#I just want things to be happy for a little longer

[reidmania]

a moment | s. reid

summary: two times there was a ‘moment’ between you and spencer, and one time he did something about it.

warnings; best friends to lovers, fem reader, pinning, this based off a lorelai and luke edit i saw, idk if its edited or makes any sense tbh!! sorry! longing, kinda self doubt idk, happy ending yay!!

an; this is for lia. And was written in like an hour so i really dont want the hate guys. If it sucks i cannot be held responsible.

You walk into the bullpen, scanning the usual chaos of the bullpen The day’s already running long, and it’s barely even noon.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Spencer says, glancing up from his desk. His eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s half-hidden behind a wall of case files, as always, but somehow manages to throw his snark with precision.

you and spencer had been best friends since you started together, you got along with anyone but gravitated towards Spencer more than anyone else. Him and Penelope were the easiest for you to be around, you loved everyone but you had your favourites.

While Penelope had been bugging you to either kick up the courage to do something about your friendship with Spencer, or move on, you did neither.

"Oh, save it,," you fire back, tossing your bag on your desk. "I’m fashionably late. It’s a thing."

"Yeah, fashionably late in a profession like this. Very chic. Theres other ways to get here you know — from your house-“

“Don’t even” you cut him off.

“Im just saying if you keep missing the same turn off every time maybe it’s a sign you should be going a different way.” He muttered.

“I didn’t miss the turn off.” You argued. You lied.

“You did.”

“No”

He said your name and you huffed.

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you sink into your chair. "Can we pretend, just for today, that you’re not right?"

"Well," Spencer says, leaning back in his chair, "I’m only right about ninety-seven percent of the time. So, technically, you’ve got a three percent chance of being right today. Want to take a gamble?"

You throw a crumpled paper at him. "Your math is annoying."

He catches it, eyes twinkling, and throws it back at you. "Annoying?"

“Yes, annoying. It hurts my head”

It’s easy between the two of you—this banter, this back-and-forth. It always has been, ever since the first case you worked together. Over time, it’s become second nature to tease him, push his buttons, and he always gives it right back. The tension slips away with every joke, but today, there’s something different about the way his eyes linger on you a beat too long, like he’s waiting for you to catch on.

You ignore it. You have to.

"So, what do we have?" you ask, holding out your hand for the file in his lap.

He passes it to you, fingers brushing against yours. It’s brief, but the touch sends a spark up your arm. Your eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to say.

Spencer clears his throat, looking back down at the file. "This unsub’s a real charmer. I think he's using manipulation tactics to lure his victims. He’s got a pattern, but it’s subtle. Took me a while to piece it together."

"Took you a while? So, like... five minutes?" You grin, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

He laughs, a sound that always surprises you because it’s rare, but so genuine. "Try thirty. It was a real struggle."

"Wow. I almost feel bad for you."

His smile fades just a little, and when he looks at you again, there’s that shift. Something hovers between you, just under the surface, where the teasing usually stays. His eyes flicker over your face, and suddenly, you wonder if he’s about to say something else, something that would cross the line you’ve never acknowledged before.

Your heart skips, and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward a little. Your breath catches.

"So..." Spencer starts, but before the sentence can land, your phone buzzes on your desk. The sharp sound breaks the moment like a snapped thread. You jerk back, grabbing your phone.

"Hotch needs us in the conference room," you mutter, more to yourself than him, trying to get a grip on the swirling thoughts in your head. "We’ve got a lead."

Spencer blinks, clearly shaken out of whatever that was, and you stand up quickly, focusing hard on the case and not on the fact that you were about two seconds away from… what? Leaning in? Kissing him?

No. That’s not what this is. This is Spencer.

"Race you to the conference room?" he asks suddenly, the playful lilt back in his voice, but there’s still something lingering behind his eyes, a question neither of you seems ready to ask.

"Race? You’re literally taller than me, that’s cheating. I’m wearing heels!!"

"You can run in heels, can’t you?" He shoots you a smirk, the tension easing just enough for you to relax, even if your heart is still racing.

"Could. But i don't want to damage my gorgeous shoes," you huffed, yet already heading for the door.

"Gorgeous shoes?" He repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah that was actually the name of the shoes when i bought them. They had 'gorgeous shoes' written in big letters across the box." You smiled, tilting your head.

"Really?"

"No."

You make it halfway to the conference room before he catches up, the two of you slipping back into your usual rhythm. But as you walk into the room side by side, the unspoken thing still hangs between you. You don’t talk about it, and maybe you never will, but it’s there.

“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asked, looking down at you, eyes lingering on yours. You nod.

“It’s pizza night. Of course I am.”

And once again, you’re reminded that with Spencer, things have never been as simple as just best friends.

You’re standing in Spencer’s tiny kitchen, flour everywhere. And when you say everywhere, you mean it—on the counters, in your hair, smeared on his cheek where you definitely didn’t mean to slap him with dough earlier.

“This is going really well,” you deadpan, holding up the limp, misshapen pizza dough.

“Um.” He squints as he looks at the mess.

“Well.. you’re the genius who can outsmart anyone but apparently can’t figure out yeast,” you argue, pinning the blame on him. “Is it supposed to look like this?” You muttered, tilting your head.

“I think it’s fighting back. Maybe we’re the victims now.”

You both dissolve into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. This was supposed to be simple. Homemade pizza sounded like a cute idea, something easy to do on a night off, but it’s turned into chaos. The dough’s not cooperating, the sauce might be too watery, and you’re pretty sure you added way too much garlic. But that’s what makes it fun.

"Okay," Spencer says, hands raised in surrender. "I officially give up. This dough has outsmarted me."

"You’re giving up? Dr Spencer Reid, defeated by pizza dough?" You snatch the rolling pin from him, trying to take over, but the second you press down, the dough tears. "Okay, maybe it’s smarter than both of us."

Spencer steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the mess you've made. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and for just a second, everything feels different. The banter pauses. His breath is soft on your neck, his arm brushing against yours as he reaches to touch the dough. Your heart stutters, and you freeze, unsure of what to do next.

But then, with no warning, Spencer flicks flour at you.

"Hey!" you squeal, spinning around to face him, eyes wide. He looks so pleased with himself, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What? You had flour in your hair. I was just trying to help.”

"Sure, you were." You reach for the bag of flour, holding it up threateningly. "I will not hesitate to make this a war, Spencer."

He grins widely, almost daringly.

You grab a handful of flour and toss it at him in retaliation. "You are such a child."

“I’m just helping!” he protests, dodging your attack and grabbing the rolling pin like a shield. His laughter is contagious, and soon you’re both caught up in it, the tension slipping away into something lighter, easier.

You try to swipe more flour at him, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you mid-throw. His fingers wrap around your wrist gently, but the touch sends an unexpected shiver up your arm. You both freeze, the room suddenly too quiet again, his hand lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary.

His gaze flickers down to where his fingers rest against your skin, and then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a pause, just long enough for the air between you to thicken, something unspoken hanging between you. His thumb brushes your wrist lightly, and you wonder if he feels it too—the tension that’s been simmering all night, just beneath the surface.

You swallow hard, pulling your hand away, but not before you catch the briefest flicker of something in his expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and just like that, the moment slips away.

His eyes narrow playfully, and for a second, you think he might call your bluff. But instead, he just chuckles and steps back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let’s not escalate this. We’re adults, after all."

"Adults who can’t make pizza," you mutter, dumping the ruined dough into the trash. "Guess we’ll have to order in. Again."

Spencer wipes his hands on a towel, still smiling. "I’ll let you pick the place this time. As long as it’s not that one with the weird crust you made us try last month."

"Oh come on, that was a bold choice! You just have no sense of adventure."

"I have a very good sense of adventure," he says, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling in that way that makes you feel like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. "I just like my pizza to taste like pizza."

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning, too. "Fine. We’ll get the boring pizza this time."

As you both settle into the living room, waiting for the pizza to arrive, you can't help but feel that lingering tension again. The kind that sneaks up on you when things get quiet, when the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of you sitting side by side, closer than necessary.

You smile, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew you were such a terrible cook, though?"

"I think we share equal blame here."

"Maybe," you admit, glancing at him. His eyes catch yours, and for just a moment, the playful air between you shifts. It’s small, like the brush of his hand earlier, like the way he’s looking at you now. Your heart skips again, and you wonder—just for a second—if maybe, possibly, you weren’t imagining it. You ignore it, there was too much that could go wrong if you didn’t.

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear the knock at your door. The sun's still out, casting a soft golden light through your living room windows, but it’s the last thing on your mind.

You’re dressed in something more put together than usual because, of course, Penelope had insisted on setting you up on this date tonight. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but she’d been so enthusiastic that you’d caved. You’d said yes to humor her, to get her off your back.

She had insisted that you needed something to get your mind off Spencer. You wondered if that was actually possible.

So when the knock comes, your stomach churns, thinking it might be the guy arriving too early. But when you open the door, it's not your date.

It’s Spencer.

He’s standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly disheveled, and there’s a look on his face you can’t quite place. It’s tight, maybe a little frustrated, though he's trying hard to keep his expression neutral.

“Spence?” You lean against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, eyes scanning you briefly before he looks down, then back up again. There’s tension in his posture, the kind you recognize when he’s overthinking something. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You don’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh.”

His face tightens even more, though he tries to hide it with a half-hearted shrug. “Did Penelope set you up with some guy?”

“Yeah?” You squinted trying to figure out how he knew that. You hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to talk about what had caused your sudden date or have to lie to him about why Penelope suddenly set you up when you have shown no intention of being interested in dating.

“Penelope told me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, running his hand through his hair as if he was stressed. You didn’t understand, not really. You told Spencer everything so you could understand why he would be annoyed that you didn’t tell him this, but it seemed as if he took it personally.

You squint at him, crossing your arms. “What is your issue? You look like you want to strangle someone.”

He lets out a huff, avoiding your eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something under the surface, and you’re not about to let it go. “Well you’re here so, obviously its not nothing … What’s going on?”

He finally looks up at you, his eyes sharp and filled with something you haven’t seen before. It catches you off guard for a moment. “It’s just—there was a moment.”

You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “A moment?”

His voice drops, a little rougher now, a little more real. “Last week. When we were making pizza, and the week before that— and during- there was a moment.”

Your heart skips. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you stay silent, letting him continue.

“I thought there was a moment,” he says, his frustration starting to leak through his words now. “I thought maybe something was… happening.”

Your chest tightens, the air in the room shifting as you meet his eyes. “There was.”

The confession comes out of your mouth before you even realize it, and the tension between you two spikes instantly, filling the space with an electric charge. You can feel it, the way everything has changed with those two words.

Spencer just stares at you, his brow furrowing slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to admit it. He takes a step forward, you step back almost unconsciously, and your heart beats faster in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice low, unsure.

He doesn’t stop moving, closing the gap between you even more, and his voice is soft but firm when he speaks. “Will you just stand still for a minute?”

Before you can say anything, before you can even process what’s happening, his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it’s full of all the unspoken things that have been building between you for so long. You feel the world tilt, your hands instinctively moving to grip the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. For a second, everything else fades away—your date, the case, everything.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you just stare at each other. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, and his eyes search yours, full of something that feels too big to name.

Neither of you says anything for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy with everything that’s just shifted between you.

Then, as if in slow motion, you take a small step forward. It’s your turn now, the tables flipped, and you can see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he instinctively steps back.

“What are you doing?” he asks, echoing your earlier words, his voice low and a little breathless

You give him a small smile, feeling the tension twist tighter in your chest. “Will you just stand still for a minute?” You mirrored his words

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move, and before he can say another word, you close the space between you and kiss him again.

This time, it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss is deeper, more insistent, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It’s like everything you’ve both been holding back is finally breaking free, all the tension and the unspoken feelings rushing to the surface.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Your hands are still gripping the front of his jacket, his fingers still digging into your sides like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t move, neither of you do. You just stay there, staring at each other, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not thinking about the job, or the cases, or anything else. It’s just him.

He’s the first to break the silence, his voice quiet and almost disbelieving, He exhales, a long, relieved breath, his hand still resting on your waist. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

You shake your head, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “No. You weren’t imagining it.”

Another beat of silence passes, and then his lips quirk up into that small, crooked smile you’ve always liked so much. “Well, I guess we have Penelope to thank for this.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, and she doesn’t even know it.”

His thumb brushes your side, a subtle touch, but enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Are you… still going on that date?”

The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you almost laugh. The idea of leaving now, of going out with some guy Penelope set you up with, feels absurd.

“No,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “I’m not.”

His smile widens, just a little. “Good.”

You grin up at him, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Yeah? Why’s that good?”

Spencer’s gaze softens, and for the first time, you see the real reason for his frustration, for all of this. He steps even closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his voice low and sincere.

“Because, there was a moment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you meet his eyes, that familiar warmth spreading through you again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his lips ghosting yours, and the last bit of tension that’s been sitting between you melts away completely. He smiles, and before either of you can say anything else, he closes the gap and kisses you again.

[bpmiranda]

It Could Be III |l. howlett| nsfw

A/N: boxer!logan, 18+ f!reader, sweet!reader, angst, smut, oral f! receiving, unprotected sex

It Could Be It Could Be II

“You want to break up?”

The conversation was unavoidable. It was eating at her that she couldn’t stop thinking about Logan. The guilt that sat on her chest grew heavier and heavier every time she said ‘I love you’ to Adam when she was no longer sure if she believed it. “I just think-we aren’t-um-I mean, are you happy?” She asked, looking at him with concern-filled wide eyes while Adam only looked confused.

“Of course I am.” He said with a chuckle.

Y/N chewed her lip nervously. “Are you happy with me?” She asked, her eyes falling onto her lap as the reminder of his infidelities swarmed her mind. Adam held onto her hand which was sitting in her lap and she looked up at him.

“I love you, sweet pea. I can’t imagine my life without you.” His other hand caressed her cheek and he was about to lean in for a kiss when she stopped him, gently placing her fingers over his chin, and he frowned.

“What if I can?” She asked in a soft voice.

Adam’s eyes reflected the hurt he was feeling and he pulled away from her. They stared at each other for a moment and he gave a deep exhale as he small smile curled his lips. “I can’t change your mind?” He asked and she slowly shook her head, closing her eyes as a small tear slipped down her cheek.

“I wish it could’ve been us, but I just don’t feel the way I used to, Adam.” She explained and he nodded in an understanding manner.

“Is it Logan?” He asked suddenly and her eyes went a little wide. Adam chuckled and he shrugged lightly. “He’s always had a thing for you, the way he calls you ‘baby’ and always seems to be around. He’s a good guy.” Adam said, a defeated look on his face.

Her eyes scanned his face for any signs of anger and she didn’t see any. “Nothing’s happened between him and I.” She told him, though she wasn’t sure why she felt the need to reassure him.

Adam only smirked. “I know, sweet pea, you’re not like me.”

They hugged and Adam left her apartment. Her heart felt less blocked up, there was no longer a feeling of grief constantly weighing on her. Logan came to her mind and she quickly picked up her phone, her thumb hovered over the ‘call’ icon for a moment before she pushed it and held the phone to her ear. Each ring felt like it lasted an eternity until she finally heard his voice on the other of the line. “Hey baby,” His voice was so deep and comforting, her heart skipped a beat when he called her ‘baby’. “What’s going on?”

“Could I come over? I just-” Her mind was spinning as she tried to find her words, but she didn’t need to, Logan knew her so well.

“I’ll come to you. Be there in fifteen.” He told her and she smiled to herself.

“See you then.” She said before hanging up.

When Logan showed up, he had two cups of coffee in his hand and she felt her belly bloat with butterflies as he smiled at her. “Caramel latte, right?”He said as he handed her a cup and she nodded with a smile while he came into her apartment. Logan figured she and Adam had another fight, he figured she needed to talk to a friend, and he would always be available to her. He wasn’t expecting this, however.

“I broke up with Adam.” She said suddenly and he looked at her after he had set his coffee down with hers on the kitchen table. Her eyes were searching his face for a reaction other than the surprised look he was currently wearing and then a small smile broke his stunned demeanor.

“Yeah?” He asked, his hands itching to grab her. Y/N nodded slowly, looking up wide eyed at him. “How are you feeling?” He asked, shoving one hand in his pocket and scratching the back of his neck with the other as he restrained himself.

Her eyes fell on the ground and she shrugged, tugging at the sleeves of her loose cardigan. “You were right,” She looked back up at him, an embarrassed heat spreading across her face. “I’m not happy with him.” Logan gave her a small nod and she continued. “I don’t mean to make you feel responsible for this and you definitely shouldn’t think you influenced my decision. I’m not expecting anything from you nor do I believe you owe-” Her rambling was suddenly cut off by Logan grabbing her around the waist with one arm and bringing her lips to his with his other hand. Her body molded into his as he held her tightly, so close to him that she swore she could feel his heart beating against her chest. Her hands clasped around his neck as they kissed. Logan’s lips were soft and gentle though his body language felt restrained and she slowly slid a hand down onto his chest over his heart.

“Let me be responsible.” Logan murmured against her lips before pulling away and looking down at her with that trademark loving look that was always in his eyes when they were together. His thumb lightly brushed over her cheek and his soft green eyes searched hers, studied every feature of her face. “I want to be the reason. I want to be your choice.” Y/N looked away from him shyly and he gently turned her cheek so she’d face him again. “I want to be whatever you need, baby.”

Her lips tentatively found his again and he sighed into her mouth, his arm tightening around her waist as he guided her towards the bedroom. Her fingers were undoing the buttons on his flannel and he slowly pushed her cardigan down, his large hands leaving goosebumps along her arms as he tossed the sweater. Without breaking the kiss yet, he guided her to lay down on her bed and he hovered over her, settling between her thighs. An involuntary moan left her lips as the bulge in his pants pressed into her and she covered her mouth with her hand only for Logan to gently move it. “Sorry.” She breathed out.

“Don’t be. I want to hear you.” Logan told her as he lifted her black camisole up below her breasts so he could kiss her belly and her hips. Her body trembled underneath his touch and she sighed his name. “Can I?” He asked, fingers hooked underneath her bunched up tank top and she nodded, raising her arms so he could pull it off and his eyes fell on her exposed body. Her face grew hot again as she fought the instinct to cover herself and Logan’s tongue peeked out to moisten his lips. “Jesus, your ex is an idiot.” He said and she laughed, the sound brought a grin to his face and he dipped his head down to kiss her once more before he kissed her chest and her collarbones, licking softly on her breasts and circling her nipples with his tongue.

“Logan,” She moaned, her fingers laced through his thick hair as he dragged his mouth down her body, leaving kisses and licks behind. After giving her time to stop him, he tugged her leggings down and he kissed her thighs, squeezed at them, bit gently on the soft insides of them until she was trembling with anticipation. “Fuck.” She whined.

Logan slowly pulled her lace panties down and he groaned at the smell of her arousal, saw the leak from her slit and he gently spread it around her folds and her clit with his thumb. His eyes shifted from her pussy to her face as he watched the reaction he had on her while she whined and called his name like a prayer. “Baby,” He called her, her dazed eyes opened and locked on his face. “Be mine?” He asked and she couldn’t help the small laugh that left her lips as this man, touching her and having already undressed her, was asking her to be his girlfriend.

“I already am yours, Lo.” She told him, smiling at him as he grinned. “I’m so happy with you.”

With that, Logan buried his face in her wet cunt, lapping gingerly at her slit, sucking at her clit, spreading her juices around with his thumb as she moaned and mewled for him, her back arched against the bed while her legs trembled warningly. “So fucking pretty.” He murmured as he watched her drip due to her pending orgasm, her core was pulsing and begging to be stuffed. “Come here, princess.” Logan stopped before she could cum, he removed his clothes to sit against her headboard, and she climbed onto his lap with his help. “I love you.” He said, looking up at her pretty face and fixing her hair for her as it had become frizzy from writhing on the bed. “I’ve always loved you.”

Y/N smiled down at him, biting her lip before kissing him softly. “I love you, Logan.” She said against his lips, caressing his bearded jaw as they made out. “More than I’ve loved anyone.”

His cock throbbed underneath her and she gasped softly, aware of his length and girth as he was pressed into her folds. “Want to take it slow?” He asked, his tip rubbing at her opening while he kissed her jaw gently.

“I trust you.” She whispered, her arms wrapped securely around his shoulders and Logan guided her down onto his shaft. “Oh, Logan.” She moaned as he stretched her out, stuffed her full, and sat heavy inside her.

Logan growled into her neck, holding her tightly around the waist as he took a moment to enjoy this feeling. The feeling of them so close and connected, his lips peppered kisses across her chest and neck, anywhere he could reach while she lightly scratched at his scalp, sighing and gasping with every pulse and twitch from his cock. “Feels so good.” He breathed out, taking the chance to admire her on his lap like this, observing the way he speared through her, and how she leaked onto his shaft. “Feels right.” He said, looking back up at her and she nodded, her brows upturned as she began rocking her hips against him. She needed to feel more, needed to know how it felt to completely belong to a man, to be the only one. “I can’t hold back, sweetheart. I gotta-gotta fuck you.”

“Fuck me.” She whispered.

Logan held onto her waist as he began easily moving her up and down on his shaft, groaning as he watched how her pussy would sink down on him repeatedly, taking every inch of him while she clawed at his shoulders and begged for him. “All mine, you’re all mine, baby.” He grunted, watching her breasts and her face as she bounced on his cock. Her heavy head nodded weakly in agreement and he smirked. “You’re so fucking pretty like this. I can’t get enough, need you all the goddamn time.”

“I’m yours, always, I’m just yours.” She moaned, feeling that familiar tension grow in her abdomen. Her fingernails dug deeply into his shoulders and Logan growled her core tightened around his throbbing shaft. “I’m-you’re gonna-oh!” Her body shook violently and he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist again so he could bury his face in her neck as he also reached his release. His load filled her already stuffed full pussy and she mewled loudly, pawing at him, pulling him close as he pinned her down onto his lap so every drop was released deep inside. The territorial side of Logan simply needed to know he was in her, that he had planted his seed even if it didn’t take right now.

“All mine?” Logan asked after they had calmed down and she was no longer trembling.

Y/N smiled and rolled her eyes playfully. “If that didn’t tell you,” Logan laughed and kissed her cheek softly as he rubbed on her legs. “Yes, Logan. I’m all yours.”

“About time.” He teased which made her laugh and she lightly swatted at his chest. Logan looked at her, smiling as he watched her become shy again under his stare even though she was sitting with him still inside her. A small sigh left his lips and he glanced at hers. “I’d wait even longer for you if I needed to, baby.” He whispered before kissing her.

Their coffee grew cold in the kitchen, forgotten as there were more pressing matters that required their attention tonight.

🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @needz1nk @sad0ni0n @samsamsantos

[copper-16]

Chapter 8 has been posted - but before everyone goes to read, a little bit of an announcement on my end:

This is going to be my last longer Mapi/Ingrid story, and probably the end of me being super active/posting on ao3 and tumblr. I might write the occasional story here and there, but writing is not bringing me the same joy it once was and I want to dedicate my time to other things. I’ll still be around reading on ao3 and somewhat on Tumblr, but I just won’t be posting a whole ton on either. I’ve been so incredibly lucky to get to know all of you guys on here, and to receive so much love for my work. It means the absolute world to me - and thank you all so much for welcoming me into this little community so wonderfully! I hope the stories I wrote were able to bring just a little bit of happiness when you guys needed it (even if I constantly left everyone on cliffhangers - I truly am sorry about that).

The rest of this is long, and you don't have to read it if you don't want to, you can just go ahead to the story now if you would like. I'm not known for my ability to keep concise, that is for certain. If brevity is the soul of wit - perhaps we know why my stories aren't very funny!

I’ve especially enjoyed joining tumblr and really finding a little community here. Getting to interact with so many people, both those who read my works and those who don’t, has been such a joy for me. I love getting to hear when people like the things I've written, even if it touches them in a small way. I love getting to interact with so many brilliant minds and am forever in awe of how much amazing talent there is in this little corner of the internet! I've made some incredible friends from getting to be on here, and it makes me so happy to have a little community of people I love. Thank you guys for letting me have space here even if I don’t write reader works or know how this app works most of the time.

I started writing seriously in September 2022 and I can't tell you how much joy it has brought me in the last two years. As someone who doesn't enjoy the college degree they are currently getting, this was such a fun creative outlet for me. It was so cool to have this blank canvas to work with, to weave things together, especially as I began to write longer stories. Writing was a place to destress for me and interact with other people who loved football as I was coming to love it. Every single kudos, comment, and bookmark meant so much to me. Even when it was something silly like someone dubbing the 'Copper Monologue,' it made me feel so seen. Someone cared enough to read enough of my works to pick out the fact that I do that? Absolutely mind blowing to me. It's crazy to hear that people cared about the silly little stories I wrote. When someone told me that I was one of the things to help inspire them to write their own stuff - I think I properly sobbed. It meant more to me than anything has in this entire world, and it still does! Writing has helped me to process, it's helped me to grow, it's helped me learn to identify my emotions and struggles and think through my own thought processes. I hope that maybe for someone out there, it could help them do that as well. It's a little strange for me not to want to do that anymore. Writing this last story solidified to me that for the most part it was time to be done, and HDITA was more of a goodbye than anything else. But even with that, it feels strange not to be thinking of my next idea, thinking of how I am going to create characters and relationships and plot lines.

I think for me right now, I'm just excited to be myself. Maybe this vessel of writing was what I needed to get myself through the last two years. I wrote la princesa when I was at my absolute worst in life, and as I've grown and matured as a person, I like to think that my writing has. I no longer find myself in a place where it fills a huge void in my own life that I once needed.

I've grown a lot as a writer these few years (those who read my earlier works will understand), and I'm excited to one day come back to it, maybe in a different sphere. I love the idea now of writing a real book. It always terrified me before - I didn't know where I would start or if I would be horrible at it. But you all have given me the confidence that maybe at least one person would like it, and maybe that's enough of a reason to try. So thank you all for holding my hand and encouraging me. I hope that if nothing else, everyone remembers that a little bit of kindness on here or ao3 or anywhere on the internet costs nothing, and yet can go a long way.

It did for me.

But enough of my sappy rambling, please enjoy this last chapter of mine. I hope it brings you as much joy as it brought me when I was writing it. Love you all so so much!

Chapter 8 of How Do I Trust Again?

[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part Eight)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Tag List will be updated soon! Please comment and engage!

After Cillian disappeared, you managed to pull yourself back together and went upstairs to shower off the sweat that still permeated your body, but thinking about what you had just done and experienced with him, the anger inside you flared up again.

How could he have just left you like this after  what you both had just done together?

You expected him to stay, kiss you some more, prolong that intimacy for just a little longer, but instead, he just vanished, and it was hard not to think that he was ashamed of what happened.

Ashamed that he had just slept with his stepdaughter.

The guilt he must have felt though was one of the things that drove you even more towards him. But the shame and the cold apathy he displayed after everything was heartbreaking and frustrating.

You felt used and discarded, as if you were nothing more than a quick release to a deep craving he had and, with that on mind, you quickly finished  washing up before wrapping yourself in your towel.

You rushed out of the bathroom, hoping to avoid seeing Cillian before you could get dressed in the privacy of your bedroom and whilst you had considered to confront him, you quickly shook of that idea after realizing that it would be a waste of both of your time as he seemed to have made up his mind about the whole ordeal already. 

"Fuck," you cursed to yourself before slamming the door to your bedroom shut and leaning against it, closing your eyes and taking long, deep breaths.

Your heart hammered in your chest, and the aching throb from the aftermath between your legs reminded you of what had just transpired.

It made you wonder if that was just a dream - how could something so forbidden, so intense feel so right?

Anger overtook your emotions again, causing you to pick up a box of photographs you took before throwing it across the room. 

You breathed deeply and looked around the bedroom, surveying the damage. The box had shed its contents on the floor, but you didn't care and slumped on to your bed instead, which is when you heard a knock on the door.  It was soft, hesitant but still perceivable. You hesitated for a moment, considering whether to respond or pretend you weren't there. But eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you called out a cautious, "What do you want?" 

The door slowly creaked open, and Cillian stepped into your room. 

"I just wanted to talk ," he said quietly, his eyes downcast. He looked vulnerable, almost like a lost little boy.

You remained silent for a while, looking up at him and feeling a rush of conflicting emotions. You wanted to scream at him, to tell him how hurt you were by his actions. But at the same time, you couldn't deny the deep connection you felt towards him.

"You could have talked to me downstairs instead of running away," you said finally, breaking the silence.

Cillian looked up at you with a pained expression. "I know and I am sorry, but I am just confused," he admitted. He took a hesitant step towards your bed before sitting down on it, by your side.  "I haven't been happy for years, but I...," he trailed off.  "I..." he gasped before finally finding the words. "I am sure you agree that, all things considered, this was a huge mistake Y/N," he said in a low voice. "You are my fucking stepdaughter," Cillian said, struggling with his emotions as he looked at you, lying in your bed.

"Yes, it's wrong Cillian. I agree. But I do not agree that this was a mistake," you  disagreed, looking at him steadily. "I preempted this and I think you did too, so how could you call this a mistake?  We both came into this with our eyes wide open," you whispered, reaching out to touch his hand. "Despite, I don't want to think of my first time with a guy as a mistake," you said, causing Cillian's chin to drop.

"Your first time?"  Cillian repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand moved to cover yours, entwining his fingers in yours as he looked at you with confusion on his face. "Why didn't you tell me?"  Cillian asked softly, squeezing your hand gently.

"I don't know," you replied, your gaze dropping to your lap. "I guess I didn't want to ruin the heat of the moment. Despite, it's not that I am a virgin. I just never had sex with a guy. Only girls," you mumbled, feeling vulnerable and exposed under his gaze.  You looked at Cillian, who was still holding your hand and could tell that he was slightly taken aback.

"I shouldn't have left you like I did Y/N. I am sorry ," Cillian said, trying to make amends. "I just, fuck..., I wanted you so much and it scared me," Cillian confided in you.

His gaze drifted to the ground momentarily before meeting yours again. You could tell that he was struggling with his guilt, and that he truly did care for you.

"I know and I feel the same, but we did what we did, and we can't change it now," you whispered back. "So lets please agree that this wasn't just a stupid mistake, but rather something we chose to do, realising that there would be consequences." 

Cillian nodded, his eyes still focused intently on yours. "Alright, but what now?" he asked. "How do we move forward from this?"  Cillian asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched your eyes for an answer. "Because we both know that this cannot happen ever again," he told you and you took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I don't know," you admitted, sighing deeply until Cillian spoke up again. "What do you think?" you asked.

"Well, maybe it's best if we pretend that this didn't happen and that we did not cross that line," he told you reluctantly, knowing that this would be for the best 

You nodded, but you looked unsure. "Is that really what you want?" you asked gently.

"I think it would be for the best Y/N ," he replied silently and gravely. His face had tightened, making his sharp features even more prominent and, for a moment, you saw something akin to pain flicker through his eyes before he averted his gaze.

You nodded again, but you couldn't help but feel that this wasn't the end of the story. That there was more to come, and that the tension between you was far from resolved.

"Okay, let's do that," you thus told him. "Come tomorrow we will never speak of it again," you added and, for a short moment, there was an awkward silence that hung in the air between you two as you both realised what you had done.

"Alright, from tomorrow then, this never happened," he whispered before caressing your face gently with his fingertips. "Which means we still have tonight though, right?" he whispered,  his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine.

You nodded, unable to find words in response. All you wanted to do in this moment was kiss him, touch him, get lost in his intoxicating presence once more.

"Then, let's make the most of it," he said, his voice thick with desire.

He pulled you closer, his lips crashing onto yours in a fiery kiss, his tongue demanding entry into your mouth. Your hands instinctively went to his hair, pulling him closer as you deepened the kiss.

Your tongues danced together, and the kiss quickly became frenzied and hungry.

Cillian's hands roamed down your body, cupping your breasts over your towel before sliding under it to feel your bare skin. You moaned as his fingers found your nipples, already hard and sensitive to his touch.

"Just so we are clear, this still counts as a one time thing, correct?" you whispered as you broke the kiss, looking him in the eye as you spoke.

He nodded and leaned down to kiss you again, the heat and passion between you igniting as if it had never been extinguished.

"I am sorry that I left you there, in the living room, by yourself before," he said again as he pulled back from the kiss.

"Well, you better make it up to me then," you told him, before pulling him close to you once again.

Cillian made a strangled noise in the back of his throat before flipping you onto your back, his body pressing down on top of yours.

He caught your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging deep into your mouth. Your body ignited under him, lust surging through you.

"I will ," he promised roughly, his teeth scraping down your jawline while his hands worked their way down your stomach.

You gasped as his fingers slid between your legs, finding your throbbing clit and rubbing it in circles. She arched her back, giving him easier access as your body heated, needing more.

Cillian slipped a finger inside of you, satisfying a primal hunger that was still burning deep within him. You moaned, your arms wrapping around his neck.

Your body tensed as he found your g-spot and ground his finger against it expertly.

You writhed under him, feeling his heavy erection press against your leg.

"Cillian," you moaned, your body begging for the release it craved. "Please, I need you inside of me," you whispered in his ear before biting down on the lobe, causing him to groan with pleasure.

He didn't need any more convincing. Cillian pulled off his t-shirt and boxer shorts while you unwrapped yourself, the white towel landing somewhere on the floor . The sight of your naked body underneath the dim light left him speechless. His eyes traveled over your soft, heart-shaped curves while your eyes investigated his arousal.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cillian muttered under his breath. "You're so goddamn beautiful."

"Uh-huh ," you managed to say, barely able to string a coherent thought together as Cillian's hands roamed over your body.

He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. You moaned, your back arching off the bed.

Cillian took that as a sign to continue, his teeth scraping over your sensitive nipple while his hand wandered down your body.

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing circles over it as his mouth traveled to your other nipple."Please fuck me already ," you whimpered, the anticipation building up inside of you.

Cillian didn't need to be told twice. He spread your legs wide open and positioned himself between them, his tip brushing against your slick entrance. He teased you for a few seconds before pushing into you gently, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he pulled out of you slowly. "You are not too sore?" Cillian asked in a hoarse whisper, as he slowly moved back inside of you, causing you to gasp with pleasure.

You shook your head as a response, wrapping your legs around his waist and urging him to move deeper. Your heels dug into his back, pulling him closer as your slick walls tightened around his shaft. Cillian groaned, the sound reverberating through your room and igniting your body into a blaze of passion.

"Why do you feel so fucking good?" Cillian groaned as he bottomed out inside of you , planting himself deep within your warm embrace before you grasped on to him and demanded to go on top, to ride him.

You were wetter than ever, your pussy eagerly clutching at his cock as you rode him like some sort of ravenous demon. He knew you needed it as much as he did and you forgot all about how sore you actually were from the constant penetration. 

Cillian was lost in you, his mind a haze of pleasure as you ground your hips against him, every glide of your pussy against his pelvis pushing him closer to the edge.

Cillian felt his balls tighten as a tingling sensation began to build at the base of his spine, and as you squeezed him with your legs, he knew he wouldn't last much longer.

"Don't stop, Y/N - fuck, I'm so close," he managed to say between his labored breaths.

You answered with a deep, desperate moan, your eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure overtook you. You could feel your body shaking and, with each passing second, the fire between your thighs began to burn brighter than ever."Oh god, please, yes. I want to feel you cum inside me again," you moaned as you moved up and down on him, feeling him grow impossibly bigger inside you.

He grabbed your hips and thrust upwards as you moved down, meeting your movements with his own. The room echoed with the sound of your skin slapping against his, your gasps, and moans of pleasure filling the air.

With each thrust, Cillian felt like he was losing himself more and more, letting the pleasure consume him until he couldn't think straight anymore.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, and his arms felt like jelly beneath him as he held on to you tighter, wanting to feel every inch of you.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cillian moaned as your walls tightened around him, the pleasure overwhelming you both. "I'm so close."

You nodded, unable to speak anymore as you threw your head back, letting out a guttural cry of pure bliss.

You had never felt anything like this before, a wave of pleasure that washed over you so completely and overwhelmingly, you could barely register the shock of it all as you orgasmed. 

Your hips were still pumping back and forth against him, milking Cillian for every last drop again, and he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his seed coursing through his veins.

"I-I'm cumming," he gasped, his fingernails digging into your ass cheeks as you felt him swell, then pulse inside of you, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you.

"Oh god, Cillian!" you cried out, your own orgasm still ripping through your body as he spurted again and again into your welcoming heat. You dug your fingers into his shoulders, feeling him shudder beneath you as you rode out the incredible spasms that accompanied your climax.

Cillian groaned as he erupted deep within you, feeling your walls tighten around him as you moaned incoherently in ecstasy. Your legs were trembling uncontrollably now, exhaustion kicking in as you slowed your movements and eventually came down from your pleasure-induced haze.

The only sound that could be heard in the room was the sound of labored breathing - yours and Cillian's.

You collapsed on top of him, feeling his heart beat rapidly beneath your breasts, his spent manhood still buried deep inside of you.

Your bodies were both slick with sweat, your breaths heavy and unsteady. A feeling of exhaustion, coupled with a deep sense of satisfaction washed over you like a wave, leaving you feeling completely spent.

Cillian wrapped his arms tightly around you, holding you close to him as he pressed soft kisses against the side of your neck. You shivered, feeling a fresh surge of desire flow through you at the sensation, your pussy clenching around his still semi-hard shaft.

"Mmmhh...you still feel so good inside of me, Cillian," you murmured softly, nuzzling your face into his neck and breathing in his scent. His arm tightened around you in response, and you sighed with contentment.

The heat between your thighs slowly dissipated, leaving your body feeling warm and sated.

Your mind was still in a hazy daze, but as the sweat on your skin dried and the tension in your muscles began to ease, you knew that you both needed to get some sleep.

Eventually, Cillian broke the silence.

"I don't think I had sex that good in...I don't know...ever," Cillian murmured, his voice thick with pleasure and exhaustion.

"Oh please, as if,"  you murmured back, your own voice tinged with amusement as you lifted yourself of him. "You would have slept with many women in your days. Models, actresses , women you met on set, I am sure you had a wide selection to pick from," you replied nonchalantly, a small smile playing on your lips as you collapsed next to him. 

"Yes I have had my fair share of sexual partners in the past, before I, you know...," he began to say and you interrupted him.

"Before you met my mother ," you acknowledged with a smile playing on your lips, causing Cillian to nod, which is when you asked him a question that had been playing on your mind for a while.

"Did you ever cheat on her before?"  you asked him, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cillian looked at you for a moment, considering his answer carefully. "No," he said finally, "I never did. Not once. I got close, but I never went through with it because, at least until now, I respected her enough not to," he explained and you nodded understandingly, feeling a surge of gratitude towards Cillian for being honest with you. 

"Do you love her?"  you asked, unsure if you wanted to hear his reply.

Cillian's gaze softened as he looked at you, taking a moment before he answered. "No," he admitted quietly. "But I love Sadie and I love what we achieved together," he  went on, rubbing his hand over his face with tired resignation. 

"Is Sadie the reason why you married her ?" you questioned, allowing the conversation to go where no one had ever dared before.

"Pretty much," he replied, his tone softening as he gazed at you fondly, "I got married because of convenience after your mother told me that she was pregnant. It was a decision I made, thinking it would make me happy because I never really fell in love with anyone, but I wanted a family, you know," he said sadly.

You nodded, understanding what he meant. It wasn't uncommon for people to marry for reasons other than love, and Cillian had been honest about it. It didn't excuse the fact that he had been unfaithful, but at least it gave you some insight into why he made that choice.

"I am sorry," you eventually  whispered, reaching out to take his hand in yours.

He looked at you with a mix of emotions swirling in his eyes - sadness, guilt, and something else that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"Don't be," he whispered back, squeezing your hand gently and you didn't know what to say after that, and the silence stretched on between you two as you both tried to process what had just happened.

"So what about you?" Cillian eventually asked after contemplating his question. "Why did you not have any other guy before me?" Cillian asked, tracing the outline of your hand with his fingers. "Because you are stunning and smart,..." he trailed off and you sighed, turning to face him.

" I've had girlfriends, and I fooled around with guys before," you explained. "But I don't think I was ever really attracted to guys in that way until recently," you confessed. "You are just different from the guys I have met," you told him softly, reaching up to stroke the stubbly jawline of his ruggedly handsome face. 

Cillian leaned in and captured your lips in another deep, passionate kiss. This time it was slow, lingering, and filled with tender emotion. You could hear your hearts beating in time with each other, and it felt like you were lost in a dream.

The weight of your decisions was incredibly heavy, yet all you could feel in this moment was a powerful connection between you and Cillian.

You kissed like this for a while  , with your hands in each other's hair and bodies pressed close, as if you couldn't get enough of one another. It was like a magnetic force was pulling you together, and you were both happy to give in.

Eventually, the kiss slowed, and both of you broke away breathlessly. The room filled with post-coital silence, the tension now finally dissipated.

"Well, it's getting late, we should get some sleep," you whispered, still wrapped in the warmth from each other's bodies.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Cillian replied, trailing a finger lightly along your shoulder.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" you asked softly, looking up at him through your eyelashes and Cillian hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"Alright," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as if he never wanted to let go. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

It was steady, rhythmic, and oddly soothing. You closed your eyes and felt yourself drifting off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth and safety of his embrace.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[blixabargelds]

12. things you said when you thought I was asleep

pls pls pls

did you think i was going to be sad with this one 😈

- things you said when you thought i was asleep

They agreed upon it days ago. John drunk as all hell, a dead weight at Gale’s side and listing tiredly. He’d turned to Gale and said, wanna fuck you every waking moment. Gale had said, your waking moments are rapidly depleting. John had said, doesn’t matter to me. Gale, dropping to his knees to untie his boots for him, had said, to me neither.

The next morning, pitifully wrung out and wincing into his coffee, John had looked up at Gale open-mouthed, as Gale reiterated, “It don’t gotta be a waking moment.”

It’s not John’s fault that he’s a light sleeper.

Gale wakes groggily, the air still cool and the sky still pitch black as it leaks in through their window, John’s long fingers opening him up from behind. Gale’s breath catches. He’s face down in their bed, and inhales deep and slow the flavour of the cotton sheets, shivering as he tries to regulate the movements of his body. John had wanted this. Gale’s happy to give him the illusion. He keeps himself lax as possible, eyes shut, as John draws out two fingers, then slides three back in. He’s been half-successful; the stretch tingles in the base of Gale’s spine, but does not hurt. He notices, then, that the nape of his neck is damp against his sleep shirt’s collar, as if John’s been lapping at him. Gale is hard between his stomach and the bed. There’s a stickiness already at the tip of his cock, and the idea that John’s been at this for some time makes it suddenly more challenging to stay still.

John hooks his fingers inside him, and Gale swallows around a whine. It’s a poor method on John’s part- if he wanted Gale asleep then he shouldn’t delve like that, soft pads of his fingertips pressing and seeking, slick with Vaseline and scissoring a little. Gale breathes faster, tries to hold back the way his hips want to stutter, as John moans quietly behind him at nothing but his own fingers fucking into Gale.

“Christ, I’d have you like this every night,” he mutters. Gale bites his lip. “God, every morning, too. I just might.”

John pulls his fingers out, and it takes all Gale’s strength not to back up to keep them inside. The silence in the room feels enormous in his head, as John shuffles around in the dark. Gale’s half scared his heartbeat might give him away. His lungs ache with the effort of expanding subtly whilst pressed flat onto the mattress, and then John’s pressing him down further, his wetted cock pushing inside his hole with more restraint than Gale’s ever felt from him.

“Oh, fuck,” John hisses. “Buck, sweetheart.”

There’s drool escaping Gale’s lips from around his clamped teeth. He wonders if there’s any range of movement that won’t give him away, any small shift of his ass back onto John’s cock that won’t alert him to Gale’s wakefulness. He tests a fraction. It’s either well timed with John’s slow thrusts, or John is too gone to notice, because as Gale grinds back against him as minutely as he can John falls further forward, hitting the spot in Gale that would normally have him groaning loud.

“I love you pliant,” John whispers. Gale makes a punched-out noise that could be a dreaming grunt. “Love the way you just take me without tryin’.”

John pulls halfway out. It’s dizzyingly slow, so as not to wake Gale, who’s wide awake and fast losing his grip on pretence. He fucks himself down onto the bed, he can’t help it. The friction against his cock makes him sigh, makes him want to do it again, but he’s already jerking too much to be convincing much longer. John thrusts back into him deep, and Gale almost chokes.

“So tight even like this,” John keeps talking, filthy little whispers for nobody’s benefit but his own, every one making Gale’s eyes roll behind his eyelids.

He starts fucking him in earnest; not his usual, fast rutting, but clipped grinding thrusts, hardly any drag of his cock pulling in and out of Gale’s body, just burrowing himself further in. Gale’s mouth is open against the sheets now, and he thinks he might be wheezing. The bed begins to bounce with John’s movements, allowing Gale a touch more plausibility with which to fuck back onto John. He rolls his hips down, breath coming faster and harder as his cock twitches where it’s trapped, John splaying a big hand over Gale’s spine and pressing him down more. Gale’s aching cock rubs desperately against the sheets. He lets slip a decidedly conscious moan.

“Buck?” John says.

“Don’t stop,” Gale grits out, voice thick, “Bucky-”

“Fuck,” John says. He grabs Gale’s hips, pulls him back by them hard, and Gale finally releases a crushed, noisy breath as his chest leaves the bed. “How long-”

“John,” Gale gasps.

“Okay,” John says. “Alright,” as he reaches around to take Gale’s dripping cock in hand.

It only takes two tugs for Gale to come. He groans into the crook of his elbow, shuddering as John’s fingers slide over the head of his cock, gathering the hot rush of cum and slicking it back up his sensitive length, driving roughly into him until he shouts out his own release.

Gale collapses under their shared weight. John pulls out after a long, panting moment, and yawns.

“You tired or somethin’, Bucky?” Gale says.

“Were you leading me on that whole time?” says John. Gale says nothing, but shakes his head. There’s a small amount of light coming through the window now. In the relief of it, John laughs. “You were. You son of a bitch.”

“Says who?” Gale smiles. “Was just gonna tell you ’bout my nice dream.”

[pennotfound]

George hates editing videos, and he's always been able to sweet-talk his best friend into either helping him or doing it all himself.

Surely a little cold won't stop that, right?

The Art of Procrastination

“George!” Dream knocked on his office door and George jumped a little, dropping the Rubix cube he'd been working on for the past hour.

Quickly he wiggled his computer mouse to refresh the screen, just in case Dream decided to barge in.

He did. Of course he did.

The door only opened a crack before a stack of boxes from LA stopped it.

“George.” Dream let out a little grunt as he pushed harder on the door to move the boxes. “You need…” He buried his mouth in the inside of his elbow and coughed. “You need to unpack these boxes.”

“I know.” George shrugged as he stood up and moved the stack out of the way. “And I will. Eventually. I just need someone to help me. I'm no good at decorating, you know that.”

“Did you ask my mom?” Dream stepped around a few more boxes and settled on a stool. “She did mine and helped Sapnap with his. I'm sure she'd be happy to help you with yours.”

“I'm… I don't want to bother her.” George half-lied. Truth was, he knew if he decorated his office he'd have nothing holding him back from streaming. And he just wasn't ready yet.

Dream understood and didn't press further, which George was thankful for.

Instead, Dream leaned closer to the monitor, then rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I thought you were editing. That's what Sapnap said.”

“I am.” George lied again, but this time Dream crossed his arms and leaned on the desk.

“George, Sapnap and I have been telling everyone during our spaces and streams that you've been busy editing.” Dream reached for the mouse and George lunged to swat it away.

“I… I am.” George said, determined to convince his best friend.

Dream knew him better than that.

“Okay, okay.” George sighed in defeat and slumped into his chair. “So I've been procrastinating a little. I was hoping you could edit them. Because you're just sooo good at it.”

“George, I know you can do this.” Dream countered. “You edited your meetup vlog in one day and that was much longer.”

“Please?” George whined, sticking out his lower lip and giving Dream his best puppy dog eyes.

“You know that's not working on me.” Dream gave George's chair a little kick, then covered his mouth as another round of coughs shook his chest. “I'm immune to your…. Your fucking wiles.”

“Probably the only thing you are immune to.” George mumbled as he swiveled in his chair.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Whatever.” Dream let out a long sigh. “How about this? If you help me and Sapnap fix the issue with his video, then I'll help you with yours.”

“I don't even know if I can, though.” George replied. “He told me about the problem and as far as I can tell, it's beyond my abilities.”

“Dude.” Dream raised his hands in frustration. “I thought you were like, an expert at that stuff.”

“Even I have my limits.” George shrugged. “So about my video…”

“I'm not doing it!”

“But Dreeeaam….”

“I mean it, George.” Dream coughed again, so violently this time that his entire body shook. “I'm not… I'm not.... gonna be... your little…. your little simp.”

“Oh my God, Dream.” George recoiled, pushing his chair away. He wanted to comfort Dream, really he did. But even he had his limits. “Maybe you should leave, before you cough all over my setup and get me sick.”

“You mean like this?” Dream raised his head, smirked and leaned in to press a big wet kiss to George's cheek.

“Ewww! Dream, what the… ewwww!” George stood up and ran into his attached bedroom to scrub his face clean of Dream’s germ warfare.

A low chuckle sounded from in George's office, interspersed with coughs. “Then I guess… I guess I'll leave… you to your editing.”

A few moments later, the door clicked shut.

Damn it.

George blindly reached for a towel to dry off his face, then opened the cabinet and pulled out a canister of Clorox wipes.

If he was going to edit, he needed to disinfect everything first.

Several hours later, George leaned back in his chair while a surge of dopamine rushed through his veins. He had to admit, editing was easier than he thought once he started. He was even able to help Sapnap with his problem.

Double dopamine.

He picked up his phone to text Dream, and immediately he remembered that Dream was probably asleep. Or trying to sleep.

Remorse crept over George's skin and he slumped in his chair. He really shouldn't have whined to Dream so much earlier. Especially with Dream being sick. It was… well, it was insensitive.

He needed to make it up to Dream.

And he knew just how to do it.

Fifteen minutes later, George closed the front door after bringing the bag inside that the Doordash driver had left there. Then, with his laptop in his other arm, he walked down the hall to Dream’s room. George set the bag down and tucked the laptop under his arm before picking up the bag again and opening the door.

“Dream.” George whispered through his mask into the darkness while the ceiling fan whirred overhead. “Dream, are you awake?”

A groan sounded from the bed, after which Dream rolled over and coughed into his elbow. “I am now. And why are you in here? I already said no.”

“That's not why I'm here, idiot.” George shook his head as he approached the bed. He set the laptop on the comforter next to Dream, then opened up the bag.

“Wait.” Dream sat up, then reached for the bowl in George's hands. “is that… chicken noodle? From Panera?”

“Mm-hmm” George nodded. “And I got extra bread for you too. I know how much you like it. And lemonade with lots of ice. The good kind.”

“George.” Dream’s voice softened, and George glanced away, trying to hide the blush that colored his cheeks every time Dream used that voice. “That's… that's so sweet of you.”

“Here, let me get your tray.” George walked into the closet and came back with the tray that Dream's mum had used the last time she visited. Carefully he extended the legs, then set it over Dream’s lap so he could set his soup and lemonade on it.

He picked up his laptop then, and scooted into the bed next to Dream. “And that's not even the best part.” George turned to face Dream and smiled, hoping Dream could see it in his eyes with the mask covering his mouth. “I edited my video. It's ready and I wanted you to see it first before I post it.”

“Wait... really? George, that's awesome!” Dream replied as he carefully removed the lid on his soup. “I'm proud of you, George. I know I gave you a hard time about it but –”

“I know.” George nudged Dream’s shoulder. “And thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Dream tore off a piece of bread and dunked it into the hot broth. “I assume that's what the laptop is for?”

“Yeah.” George opened the laptop and pulled up the file. “I edited the longer video. I figured we could watch it while you eat your soup.”

Dream chewed the bread, then swallowed. “Sounds good to me.”

A half hour later, the video ended and George closed his laptop. Dream hadn't said much during the video, probably because he was eating.

A soft thump on George's shoulder gave him the real reason.

A smile on his lips, George carefully picked up the tray and set it on the floor for later. He hadn't even taken one step, though, before George felt a tug on his shirt.

"Stay." Dream mumbled, half asleep.

It reminded George of another time, another day. When an ocean separated them.

Now he was here. So he stayed.

George climbed into bed and immediately Dream rolled into his side. Wrapping an arm around Dream, George held him close, ready to comfort him through the next coughing fit.

And he'd stay as long as Dream needed him.

At least until he pestered George to edit another video.

~END~

[eff4freddie]

Things You Knew

Javi Gutierrez x Reader Rating: M Words: 8k AN: This is my submission for @burntheedges roll-a-trope challenge and @auteurdelabre trope-off. Apologies for doubling up on challenges but it's been a pretty insane month at work. Anyway. I chose Javi G as I've never written for him before, and my trope was Soulmates. This was really fun to write and I hope you enjoy! Warnings: None

Your ankles crinkled in their sockets when you stretched them, and you didn’t want to think about what it meant, so you didn’t. You rolled your shoulders, feeling the way the tendons strained under the weight of keeping your head up. It wasn’t even that working for Javi was that hard – he was a kind boss, generous with his time and respectful of yours – it was just that his relentless quest had started to take its toll on all your other tasks. Tasks that were mounting up without his attention.

‘Mr Gutierrez…’ you started, your arms full of binders and your iPad balanced precariously on top, ‘you have a meeting with the executive producers this afternoon…’

‘Cancel it, and it is Javi, please. You know this, Cariño.’

He was good looking enough that you didn’t mind the pet name, or that he’d bestowed it upon you the moment he saw you on your first day in the job, seven and a half months ago. Now, though, it grated on you as he strode past you standing patiently at his office door.

‘They’ve said that if you don’t show up this time the deal is off, Mr Gutierrez,’ you tried again, following behind him as he made his way down the hall to the front door. Your heels clacked on the marble in a way that announced your arrival well before you had any intention of making it, and you hated that you were unable to move silently through his house.

‘They can say whatever they want to. They do not understand I’m on a quest,’ he said, talking to you over his shoulder as his longer legs carried him. You sighed, the sorrowful little sound of it stopping him in his tracks. You took a step back as he rounded on you.

‘Como, Cariño?’ he asked, his brows saddled in concern. ‘Do you work too late? Do you carry too many things? Look at all these…’ he tutted at you as he took the binders from your arms, all labelled neatly in your script; the names of his various projects, ledgers, budgets, a contract he still hadn’t read let alone signed. ‘Who makes you carry these, hmm?’ he said, grinning at you slightly as you secured your face in a disapproving glare.

‘My boss,’ you said, but fighting a grin.

‘What a monster he must be,’ Javi said, winking at you. You felt the heat crawling up your cheeks, and hated yourself for it. You had noticed long ago that his voice, when it was just the two of you, was softer, quieter, that he almost whispered to you such that sometimes you found yourself leaning closer into his orbit just to pick up the words. You felt the fizzle up your spine and ignored it, every time, his cologne and his shampoo and just his skin enough to send a riot of butterflies into your throat and suffocate you.

‘Enough of this, it does not matter to me,’ he said, dismissing your months of work.

‘Mr Gutierrez, when you find her, you’ll need…don’t you think you’ll…’ you tried to think of a reason. He didn’t need the money, you knew that. He didn’t need the social status, he had that in spades thanks to his wealth and his association with Nicholas Cage. He had everything a man could want except for the thing that kept him up at night, and when he found it…

‘Don’t you think Nic will want to know what happened to your next movie?’ you tried your Hail Mary, invoking the name of Jesus himself. Javi paused. Your arms now empty you tugged nervously on your sleeve.

‘I will find her,’ he said, determined, and you nodded at him. ‘But when I do, you are right, I will need to juggle all my other responsibilities…Oh, Cariño will you help me, still? You will not leave me to rot?’

‘You won’t rot,’ you said, rolling your eyes at him. ‘You’ll be too happy with her.’

He grinned, his dimples popping out. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to take them between your teeth, but you resisted, you always resisted.

‘I will be, Cariño, won’t I?’ he said, but he wasn’t asking for an answer, and you could see the way his eyes had drifted away from yours that he was imagining her again, conjuring her in his mind as if he could transport her in front of him just by sheer will.

‘Yes, Prince Charming,’ you said, and he smiled at you, again.

‘If only I had a glass slipper to try on these women,’ he said.

‘You have better,’ you said, nodding to his wrist. Absent minded, he ran his fingers over the mark, the pattern you had seen enough times to know by heart.

He looked at you, sadly, then, his eyes coming back to yours. He knew it was a privilege to have been marked, that not everyone was born with their destiny etched on their wrists.

‘Is this hurting you?’ he asked, and you swallowed, collecting yourself for a moment.

‘You’re not the first I’ve witnessed find their match,’ you said, the words bitter on the back of your throat. ‘I’m happy that you will be happy, Mr Gutierrez. And that you apparently won’t fire me the moment you find her.’

‘I would never,’ he said, jostling the binders in his arms so that he could extend a hand to your shoulder. You felt the warmth seep into your skin through the loose cotton of your shirt. He wore a look of consolation on his face, and somehow that burned more than anything else.

A moment passed between the two of you, Javi’s thumb caressing your skin without his fully realising. You could see again his eyes were unfocussed, could see the spread of goosebumps up his forearm. You pushed him away, taking a step back and out of his grasp.

‘I do hope it’s soon, though,’ you said, plastering a smile on your face. ‘Not sure I can hold off the execs much longer.’

‘Tell them a family emergency came up,’ Javi said, ‘tell them I am sorry, but I must attend to my loved ones.’

‘Mr Gutierrez, we said that last time,’ you reminded him. He dropped your binders, one by one, on the hall table by the door. Through the glass you could see his driver idling his sports car. You held in a sigh. Taking a pen from his front pocket he at least signed the contract, sight unseen.

‘Tell them again…it is not untrue,’ he said. ‘When I find her, she will be family.’

Before you could try and get him to see sense he was gone, the door opened and closed for him as he strode over the threshold. You forced yourself to look away, to turn your shoulder and stare instead at the binders beside you. You could never look when he left you.

--

You had meant to go home, you really had, but you found yourself unaccountably engrossed in Javi’s bookkeeping and before you knew it the sun was setting over the ocean. Your phone rang, the vibrations jolting you out of your work.

‘-lo?’ you said, without checking, and when you heard a scoff you knew it was your roommate, Karla.

‘Girl, what are you doing?’ she asked, and you sighed.

‘I got…stuck with work.’

‘I’ve been texting. This time you didn’t even leave me on read.’

You had put your phone on Do Not Disturb the moment Javi had cleared the driveway. If he found Her, finally, you didn’t want to know about it.

‘Oh, I…needed to concentrate,’ you said. You realised your eyes were stinging and you blinked them a few times. How long had you been bent over your laptop? Too long, judging by the squawk of protest from your shoulders when you moved.

‘You’re breaking your back for this guy again?’ Karla asked. She knew, or at least she suspected with the benefit of very good evidence, that you didn’t work so hard for Javi because you cared about his next big movie production. Balancing the books for a multi-billion-dollar company wasn’t your job, either. But you knew that Javi had been taken advantage of before, by his own family no less, and you just liked to keep an eye on things to make sure he could trust his accountants.

‘I have a business degree, I gotta use it somehow,’ you said, and you heard Karla laugh. ‘What did you want, anyway?’

‘I was calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight, but I’m pretty sure I know the answer.’

‘Mmm,’ you agreed. You felt your stomach protest, remembering that you had forgotten to eat lunch. Javi had a way of making your tummy flip that made it difficult to want to add food to the equation.

‘He’s out again, on the hunt?’ Karla asked, gently, because she could read your mind even through the phone and that was why you loved her.

‘Mmm,’ you said, again, this time trying to sound blasé.

‘And you’re not waiting around for him to come home to see if he’s hit the jackpot?’

‘Mmm-mmm,’ you said, shaking your head for the benefit of absolutely no one.

‘Course not,’ Karla replied. ‘Will you at least go eat something?’

‘How did you…’

‘Could hear your stomach grumbling from here,’ she cut you off, and you grinned. You paused, feeling the smile slide off your face.

‘Do you think he’s ever going to stop looking?’ you asked, and you heard how wistful you sounded, how sad, your voice failing to cover for you.

‘Honestly?’ Karla said, and you held your breath, waiting for her to answer. ‘No, that man is determined and he gets what he wants.'

‘He put the ad in the paper,’ you said, ‘and he went on Late Night and showed his mark on TV.’

‘And how many fakers did that bring out of the woodwork? The cheap tattoos? That one lady who Sharpied hers on and didn’t think he’d try wiping it?’

You scoffed at that. She had lasted all of three minutes, and it was three minutes too long in your opinion. His security teams had received a talking to after that.

‘I don’t like seeing him… like this,’ you said, and you meant distracted and not able to attend important meetings, making you grovel for reschedules. Of course that’s what you meant. ‘He was so disheartened when all that publicity didn’t work.’

‘Kind of makes me grateful I don’t have one, to be honest,’ Karla said. You made your way to Javi’s kitchen, untouched by anyone except for his chef, and scrounged around for something with which to make yourself a sandwich. ‘I think he’ll do all this dating, and he won’t find Her, but he’ll find a girl nice enough, or gorgeous enough, and he’ll make do.’

‘Some stunning influencer.’

‘6 foot tall, waist tiny enough to wrap one hand around,’ Karla agreed.

‘Rich lady hair. Tits up to her chin,’ you added, after a thought.

‘She’ll have a PhD in neuroscience, and something in Law’ Karla giggled, ‘and she’ll volunteer for the UNHCR.’

‘And she won’t know how beautiful she is, she just will be.’

‘She’ll pop out twins and be…wait are we just describing Amal Clooney?’

‘We…we might be,’ you conceded.

‘I met her once, she was lovely.’

‘Of course she fucking was,’ you said, an ache blooming at your temples you were worried would turn into a full-on migraine. Karla was right. That was absolutely the kind of woman Javi would end up with, should end up with, if there was any justice in the universe. You knew this. Of course you knew this.

‘I’m gonna go meet my Not The One But Good Enough,’ Karla decided.

‘Put the sock on the doorknob,’ you reminded her, and she remained on the line long enough to scoff at you before she was gone. She was your best friend.

You turned back to the cupboards, considering your options. The kitchen was well stocked, but it was an ingredient kitchen. You just wanted a box of mac and cheese, not to have to roll the pasta yourself. You sighed.

‘That was dramatic,’ you heard a voice behind you, and you swivelled fast enough to make yourself dizzy.

‘Mr Gutierrez!’ you said, his voice honeyed but his eyes sad in the light from above the stove. ‘You’re back early.’

You watched as he sighed, plonking himself down at the table. Behind him a storm threatened to blow in over the ocean. You felt your stomach sink for him.

‘She was not the One,’ he said, and you nodded.

‘Not even the Not the One But Good Enough?’ you asked, and he shook his head.

You knew Javi. Despite Karla’s predictions, you knew he was uncompromising in getting what he wanted, that he had enough money in the world to engineer any career, any dream for himself but this one thing, this one missing piece, that was nevertheless evading him. He wasn’t the type to settle, even if it would make him reasonably happy. You knew this, too.

‘I do not know how to describe it, just that I knew she was not Her.’

You stayed by the cupboard, not wanting to interrupt his reverie, not sure if you should intrude. It almost seemed as though he forgot you were there, until he snapped his eyes to you. ‘What are you doing hiding in the kitchen?’

‘I didn’t have dinner…’ you said, and he slapped his forehead.

‘I forgot!’ he exclaimed, standing and running out of the room. You followed, because it seemed urgent, and because of course you did. You watched as he ran to the garage, disappearing into the darkness before you heard a car door slam.

‘Sorry, Cariño, I was just so upset about the girl, but it should still be warm. I will heat it for you.’

‘Mr Gutierrez, no, I can…’ you said, not wanting to remind him of the last time he tried to heat up leftovers, including his Great Grandmother’s silver serving spoon.

‘I know, Cariño, no silverware,’ he tutted at you, and you once again found yourself tagging along behind him.

‘Now you know,’ you said under your breath, and you heard him giggle.

So caught up in chasing him down, as per usual, you didn’t even look at what was in his hands until he produced a plate and served it. You had been expecting a half-eaten chocolate cake, maybe some bread and an unwanted appetiser, but what greeted you was an intricate dish, seafood and delicate squares of polenta, a garnish of radish and dill. You looked, as subtly as possible, for any bite marks and found none.

‘The chef recommended it as his favourite,’ he explained, his eyebrows saddling as he watched your reaction. ‘You eat fish, yes?’

You nodded, dumbly. ‘How did you know that I would…’

‘You’re always working late, Cariño. You think I do not notice but I do.’

You felt heat in your chest, your belly flipping again. This time, though, the smell of the food wafting gently over your nostrils was enough to overcome it. You were embarrassed to find your mouth watering.

‘Thank you, Mr Gutierrez,’ you said, warmth in your eyes as you looked at him. He smiled, pleased.

‘She did not like the food at all,’ he said, rolling his eyes as he put the plate down in front of you and went to find forks. ‘She did not like to eat.’

‘Well, she’s crazy,’ you said, too impatient to wait for the cutlery and instead diving in with your hands, picking up a polenta square and popping it into your mouth. An explosion of flavour danced across your tongue and you moaned, your eyes closing of their own volition. When you opened them again you saw Javi gazing at you, pink blooming across his cheeks.

‘It is not cold?’ he asked you, his voice oddly strained.

‘No, it’s good, do you want some?’ you asked, reaching down and holding a square out for him. He came forward, tentative, as you placed the food gently on his tongue. You felt an ember of something lighting between your thighs as he savoured it, groaning slightly.

‘Oh, it is heaven,’ he said, still with his eyes closed. You thought for a deranged moment of slipping from your chair and getting down onto your knees for him, wondering if you could make him make him groan like that with his cock in your mouth. You blinked, swallowing harshly. His eyes opened, gently, to gaze down at you.

‘I regret so much about tonight, and now I must also regret that I did not choose this for my own,’ he said, and you smiled at him. He reached for more and you batted his hand away.

‘Mine,’ you growled at him, and he grinned.

‘My hungry little Cariño,’ he said, and the little ember started to catch flame.

He sat beside you, his hand resting on the back of your chair, as you tucked in. So engrossed in the food you didn’t notice he had lapsed into silence until your plate was almost entirely cleared. When you finally remembered he was in the room you took him in.

He was quiet, his chin resting in his other hand as he considered the darkening sky over the ocean. You could see he was deep in thought, a kind of maudlin contemplativeness he was prone to sink into when things didn’t go his way. You wanted to pull him into your arms and wrap your fingers in his curls, soothe whatever troubled him with your lips on his skin.

‘What else do you regret about tonight?’ you asked, bold for someone who was technically talking to her boss. You pulled him from his reverie, but the room remained heavy with the weight of his sadness.

‘Have I gone about this all wrong?’ he asked. You wanted to reach out and smooth the indent where his brows crashed together, wipe the hopelessness off his face once and for all.

‘I don’t know how else you could have gone about it,’ you said, honestly. ‘You’ve gone about it basically every way there is.’

‘The talk show, that was not such a good idea.’

‘It seemed OK at the time, you just forgot people are generally terrible.’

‘A Sharpie, of all things. And it was black.’

You snorted a little. ‘I mean, no marks for execution but you gotta respect the hustle?’

Javi lapsed back into consternation for a while, and you let him. Being with him set your nerves ablaze but also, paradoxically, calmed you in a way that no-one else did. He was your boss, and he was annoying and this quest of his was ruining your standing with quite a few important contacts, but he was also kind, and he was loving, and you imagined that if you were to rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat it would sound like home.

‘She just feels…I do not know how to say it. She just feels…like she’s right there. But I can not grasp her.’

You wanted to reach out and put your hand on his forearm, rub it with your thumb as you cooed into his ear. You needed to get yourself together. You were tired and he was wearing down your resistance by being so sad and so fucking gorgeous at the same time. You cleared your throat.

‘I should head home, it’s late,’ you said, and he nodded.

‘Cariño…’ he suddenly started, grabbing your arm as you went to move away. You pulled it from him, the heat of his touch even through your sleeves scorching. He sat beneath you as you stood over him at the table, his expression changing from sadness to hope to something else, something not quite settled comfortably on his features. ‘You can come in late, if you like. Since you worked late tonight.’

You couldn’t have said how. Maybe just that the look on his face, his hesitation, just by the way he had paused as he gazed up at you, but you just knew he had been going to say something else, had been thinking something else entirely. You wouldn’t ever be able to articulate it. You just knew this, too.

--

You shouldn’t have been surprised. This was what you wanted, after all. So, you could only smile, a little tightly, when Javi bounded into his office one afternoon, uncharacteristically late, and beamed down at you sitting at your desk.

‘You found her,’ you said, ignoring the stone shifting in your belly.

‘No,’ he said, his face suddenly serious, a look of almost remorse crossing his fucking beautiful features. ‘But she is just as good.’

You nodded at him. Fucking Karla had willed this into existence.

‘So, your quest is over?’ you asked, but he was already bouncing on his heels, looking at you with bright eyes and his dimples so sharp he could poke himself. You recalibrated. ‘Tell me the story,’ you said.

‘Oh, Cariño it was like nothing I had expected but somehow it was better.’ He was looking over your head, as if watching the movie of this perfect moment playing back behind his eyes.

‘We do not have the same marks. Hers is different, it is close but a little off on the left side? Anyway, I was at the bar talking to Marco, you remember Marco he financed my last project? So, I was talking to Marco about locations for filming in the Spring, and suddenly there is a tap on my shoulder and a woman…a vision of a woman…tells me if we need a vineyard she has one on the south coast!’

‘She…has a vineyard,’ you repeated, an image of Amal Clooney in a sundress holding a bottle of wine while giving you the finger appearing in your mind.

‘Well, it is her fathers, but I can not exactly complain about that,’ Javi said.

Ah. There it is.

‘And where did she get her law degree?’ you asked, not able to stamp out all the bitterness in your tone before the words escaped your mouth.

‘Eh?’ he asked, and you waved him away.

‘No, nothing, it’s…that’s great. When do I get to meet her?’

‘Cariño, you want to meet her?’ he asked, and he seemed genuinely surprised this, and because of that it was difficult for you to quantify the hurt it caused.

You’d forgotten, you supposed. All the late-night chats, the bringing you dinner, the times you had stood beside him while he worked his way through half of Europe trying to find his one, then most of Hollywood to boot, you thought that there had been a friendship there, something more than a boss and an overworked, underpaid employee. Of course there wasn’t. He was a billionaire and looked like a model and talked with passion about almost everything he encountered. You were…you. You knew this.

‘Well, I need to vet her, Mr Gutierrez,’ you recovered, quickly. ‘Have you done the necessary background checks?’

‘Oh, I do not need those, this is love,’ he said, and you tasted sour over the back of your throat. Your mouth was turning down all on its own, the muscles of your jaw twanging under the strain. You were horrified to realise you were going to cry in front of him if you didn’t get out of there.

‘Mr Gutierrez, I strongly urge you to do the background checks,’ you said, your voice reedy, but he wasn’t listening. You wondered if he ever would again.  

‘We are to holiday in St Tropez,’ he announced. ‘I have just decided. Will you organise the helicopter?’

This time, you didn’t follow him as he strode out the door. You worried, instead, that you had condemned him, and by extension yourself, to a life of disappointment. It had to be this way, you were sure of it, and maybe you were worrying over nothing. Maybe this vineyard-inheriting goddess could make him happy, in the end.

Almost unconsciously you lifted your sleeve, your fingers tracing idly over your mark. You knew Javi’s so well. It mirrored your own.

--

‘He’s going to fucking marry her,’ you predicted, genuine misery in your chest nearly as heavy as the four pints of ice-cream you’d put in your belly. The Ben and Jerry’s had been Karla’s idea, and only now were you slightly regretting it.

‘Oh, fuck her, and fuck him too,’ Karla said, waving melting Triple Caramel Chunk in the air. ‘She’s probably got a stick so far up her arse she can’t bend over without getting a splinter.’

You snickered at this, the cruelty of it appealing to your whispering dark corners.

‘Daddy’s got a vineyarrrrrd,’ you intoned, affecting a truly awful sort-of-British accent.

‘DADDY! GET ME MORE VIIIIIIINES!’ Karla yelled, and now you were laughing so hard you were in real danger of asphyxiation.

‘DADDY! I’M TIRED OF THIS MANSION BUY ME ANOTHER ONE!’ you joined in, through hiccups of laughter and an errant burp.

You both paused for a moment, catching your breath. In the quiet the sadness seeped back in.

‘I still don’t understand why you don’t show him,’ Karla said, after a while. You sighed.

‘It’s not meant to be,’ you repeated for the hundredth time.

‘How can it not meant to be? You’re marked.’

‘Because he’s just…his life is completely different. I don’t fit into it, in any capacity.’

‘You do in one capacity,’ Karla said, nodding her head to your wrist.

‘He would be disappointed,’ you said, eventually, and Karla sighed.

‘You said when you saw him it was like lightning bolts?’ she asked, and you nodded. ‘You don’t think he felt that, too?’

‘I know he didn’t, because he didn’t react at all. It was like he didn’t see me. He just…employed me.’

‘But that doesn’t mean…’

‘Karla, I love you, but you need to listen to me on this one. There were no turtle doves, no petals falling from the sky. He saw me and he shook my hand, and he said, “welcome to my staff, it is lovely to have you” and then he was gone. The whole soulmates thing, they don’t mention that crushing, ridiculous privilege will override it. He didn’t feel anything for me because there was too much money and status in the way.’

You were dangerously close to tears again, the helplessness and the grief washing back over your bones. To your relief Karla just nodded at you, extending a cold hand to rest on your knee. You immediately shucked her off. ‘Ice-cream hands,’ you muttered, and she smiled.

‘I just…I just feel like, shouldn’t he have the choice? To decide for himself?’ she asked, and you shrugged.

‘It’s better this way. He’s found Little Miss Vineyard. He says it’s…he thinks it’s good enough, clearly. That’s good for him.’

‘What about you, bub?’ Karla asked, and you were going to protest, going to tell her that it didn’t matter, that you were happy he was happy, that maybe the one act of love you could do for your soulmate was to just stay out of his way, but for some reason that night the words died on your tongue. You swallowed down their corpses, feeling them curdle alongside ice-cream in your belly.

‘I’ll be OK,’ you said, and you knew the more times you said it, the more likely you would, one day, believe.

--

Javi and Vineyard were gone for the next ten days, which was enough time for you to harden your heart again and get back down to business. You decided, in the spirit of change and new beginnings, to finally bust out the black Amex card Javi insisted you keep in your drawer ‘for emergencies’ and renovated his office, deciding the mid-century brothel vibe didn’t suit a seaside setting. You were going to do modern coastal, you decided, using company time to browse furniture websites and considering the merit of rattan in a professional setting. You were going to do coastal, and you were going to do a fresh start and you were going to do healing. One decorative seashell at a time.

What you didn’t anticipate, though, so insistent on a new office kit out and by extension a new personality, was that everything would arrive flat-packed. The groundsmen faked bad backs, and the security team were pretty adamant their jobs didn’t extend to Allen keys, and so you found yourself down on your knees, sweat sticking your hair to your forehead, trying to beg the lug nut to sit flush on the dowel, whatever the fuck that was. It was this moment, of course, because the Universe was clearly punishing you for an egregious wrong doing in a past life that Javi, of fucking course, wafted back in.

‘Cariño?’ he said, uncertainly, to the lower half of your body.

‘Mmph,’ you responded, a screw held tight between your lips. ‘-ust a sc-nd Mr Git-er-ez,’ you muttered.

‘What are you doing? Where are my things?’ he asked, and you felt your shoulders drop. You took the screw from your mouth, deciding that four equal table legs that all touched the ground was so last year, and got up on your knees.

‘I wanted to surprise you,’ you said, and you looked around at the detritus of your efforts; the bubble wrap, the ripped-open boxes, the two successfully constructed armchairs that took you the better part of the morning to assemble. ‘I thought, a fresh new look for your new love,’ you lied, and watched as his eyebrows shot up.

‘This was all my father’s,’ he said, gesturing to where the old furniture was stacked up against the back wall. You swallowed. You probably should have known that.

‘I…’ you started to apologise, but he cut you off.

‘It was never my style. But I never knew what my style was until…this…’ he said. ‘This is perfect, Cariño. How did you know?’

Your mark tingled and you pulled your sleeve down tight over your wrist.

‘I thought about what I would like and did the opposite,’ you lied again, and he laughed, clapping his hands in delight.

‘My brilliant Cariño,’ he said, and it would have been kinder if he’d just shot you on the spot. You felt the burn and ache in your chest. You wondered what cute little pet names he called Vineyard. But he was coming towards you, getting down on his knees in a way that made your breath catch in your throat.

‘I will assist,’ he announced, in that way he had where there was just no arguing with him.

‘Why do I feel like you have never, in your life, put together flat-pack furniture?’ you asked, and he grinned at you.

‘You know me so well,’ he said, and you really fucking did.

It took an hour and a half, but by the end of your toiling you and Javi had the legs on the desk, all four and all the same length. It turned out if the dowel didn’t sit properly you could just whack it really hard with a paperweight. The things you learned working for Javi.

You stood together, appraising the upturned desk.

‘So, I guess we just each get on the other end and…flip it?’ you suggested.

‘It looks heavy,’ he said, his brows furrowed in concentration.

‘It is, I got the really expensive one,’ you said, and smiled at him when he looked at you, questioningly.

‘You spoiled me?’ he said, and you scoffed.

‘One way to think of it,’ you said, not wanting to tell him you’d paid with glee thinking somehow this might put a little dent in his amour somewhere, knowing that of course it wouldn’t, but feeling the vindication anyway.

‘Ok, Cariño, you get on that end and then I think we…put it on its side?’ he asked, and you nodded at him.

‘Yeah, roll it that way,’ you said, gesturing to your left as you leant down.

‘That way?’ Javi asked, gesturing with his head to his left, not yours, but you weren’t watching him.

‘Mmmhmm,’ you hummed, bracing yourself to lift. Was it lift with your knees to protect your back? Squat? That seemed like it would strain more…

‘1…2…3…’ you counted, hefting the desk to the left while Javi hoisted to the right. It immediately corkscrewed, rolling out of your hand and twisting your wrist as it thudded to the ground. You screamed in surprise and then blooming pain, holding your wrist in your hand as if you could repair it with just your grip.

‘Cariño!’ Javi called, vaulting over the desk and at your side in an instant, reaching out to grasp your wrist. He moved so quickly, so agile over to you that you didn’t have time to react. He pulled up your sleeve to get a better look, turning your wrist towards him to inspect it.

‘Wait, wait…’ you said, as your mark gently rotated into his view.

He froze. You closed your eyes for a moment, terrified to look at him, before you heard his sharp intake of breath. You opened your eyes again to see him examining it, lifting your wrist closer to him to properly inspect it.

‘Cariño…’ he whispered, and you swallowed acid over your raw throat.

‘I can explain,’ you said, but you couldn’t really. He finally lifted his eyes to yours, as if remembering for the first time the mark was attached to a person, and you watched as the confusion on his face crumbled away to a sorrow deep enough you thought he might stop your heart.

‘You knew,’ he said, his voice soft and dripping in betrayal. ‘All this time, you stood and watched…and you never said a thing.’

‘Mr Gutierrez…’ you whispered, not knowing where to even start. He was right, of course he was right, but you had never intended to tell him, had never allowed yourself to imagine the conversation unfolding around you in this moment. The hurt bloomed on his face, and you felt tears start to well at your waterline. You blinked them back.

‘The whole time. You knew,’ he said.

You did, you had known. So many things you had known.

‘I…’ you started, but he was moving, standing up and backing away from you, out towards the door. You looked away as he left you, like you always did. You knew now it would be the last time.

--

This was beyond even Ben and Jerry’s. Karla mostly left you to it, the unique weight of the pain at having hurt your soulmate indescribable. You had read that it was possible, when you finally made the connection, that you could feel their feelings as richly and as closely as your own. The combined weight of your sadness crushed you, pulverised you, such that you could barely think straight. Karla brought you easy food; toast and bananas and chicken soup, and you ate it all without tasting, only feeding your meat suit purely for maintenance, and didn’t allow yourself to remember the taste of the fish Javi brought back to you; his soulmate and his traitor.

You resigned, immediately. In writing, in an email that was never replied to. Each day you scrolled Instagram for news of the inevitable engagement to Vineyard. You held your phone in one hand while you rubbed at your aching mark with the other.

You knew, there were stories, of divorcing soulmates. It was rare but sometimes circumstances overcame even destiny, even biology. Sometimes people died, leaving their soulmates behind. You spent time on message boards reading the stories of people who had lost their connections, of people who had woken up one day and felt the mark cold to the touch, had known in their hearts then and there that their mate was gone. Some had felt it before they had found their matches. They struggled the most; the what ifs, the could-have-beens.

You considered that maybe it was a blessing that you at least knew it was Javi. It would stop you looking for the rest of your life, stop you having to check the wrist of every man you met, second guess any minimal attraction you might have felt to another.

Karla sat on the end of the couch as you stared out the window, the TV on but unwatched in front of you.

‘You love him,’ she said, simply, and you nodded. Heartsick, you didn’t have the words.

‘From the first moment,’ you agreed.

‘No, but it’s deepened, the more time you’ve spent with him,’ she observed. You nodded again before lifting your knees to your chest and resting your cheek there. If you closed your eyes and really tried you could conjure the memory of his cologne, could imagine you rested your head on his chest.

--

A couple of weeks passed. You couldn’t be sure how many. You got off the couch, the thrumming hurt of your heart and your mark lessening somewhat as the days went on. You checked it every morning for its warmth, relieved not to find it cold, and you wondered if your lessening sadness was really just that Javi was moving on with Vineyard. That now you were starting to lose his connection you could be left to your own miserable devices. You considered that this was inevitable, that the ending you had been expecting probably ran pretty close to this. You hated that you had hurt him, though. You had only ever intended to fade into the background before he noticed you were gone.

You applied for another job, this one far less glamorous but less likely to utterly gut you. On the mainland, doing some general bookkeeping and executive assistance for a CEO of a small manufacturing firm. It would be simple work, and you were a shoo-in, subject to a satisfactory referee check. You hovered over the form naming Javi as your previous employer.  In the end you named his business manager, leaving the details for him to fill in.

Your reference check came back within the hour. Glowing. You were offered the job.

Your first week was good, then your first fortnight. You received your first pay-check with gratitude, even though it was almost half what Javi had been paying you. You felt good to be productive again, to be able to put some of your skills to good use. You didn’t have to trail behind your boss as he blew off any and all obligations for some flight of fancy. You spent considerably less time discussing Face/Off.

It was fine, you were fine. It was going to be fine. You were aware, distantly, that you were probably heaving in denial and numbness, and it suited you, so you let it.

Except when you woke on what you thought would be a normal Thursday, your mark burning so hot you gasped awake, reaching for it to check it hadn’t been seared into your skin. Holding it up to the light it looked the same. Karla checked it and confirmed it seemed to the same temperature as the rest of you. Just your nerves were screaming, perceiving a flame not visible to the eye.

You googled, checking message boards, searched ‘burning marks’. There was nothing, which you weren’t sure was a good or a bad thing, worried for a moment you would pull up results from those who had lost their spouses, the burning mark serving as a premonition of the horrors to come. You slathered burn cream on it, which did nothing, took an anti-inflammatory or two and considered calling in sick. In the end you decided against it, because you weren’t sick sick, you were heartsick, and somehow that just didn’t feel anywhere near as real.

On the ferry over to the mainland you considered lowering your arm into the ocean water, the cool of the water maybe able to provide some relief. You would have to get down on your knees in your work skirt, on the wet and not particularly clean ferry floor. You considered it longer than you cared to admit.

In your office the heat from your mark started travelling up your arm and you started googling ‘infections of the blood and skin’ and ‘septicaemia’. You wondered if it was an allergic reaction, if perhaps you had run your arm through some kind of heinous plant, and you wondered if the office had an epi-pen in the first aid kit. You googled if it was bad to use one if you weren’t actually in anaphylactic shock. The internet was pretty damning of the idea.

You wondered if you needed to go the local emergency care clinic, was just debating asking your boss for the afternoon off, when a shadow darkened the door.

‘Cariño?’ it said, a perfect Javi-shaped silhouette as the sun streamed in from behind.

‘Mr Gutierrez?’ you asked, gasping immediately as your mark pulsed, the heat shooting down your arm and into your chest. Was it a stroke? How were you supposed to know if it was a stroke?

‘My Cariño,’ he said, stepping forward into your little office and somehow crowding all the space. His cologne wafted over to you, and you felt the warmth of it spread over your nostrils and down into your blood. You wavered a little on your feet.

‘I’m so sorry,’ you said, stepping back from him as he advanced, feeling the sudden urge to keep space between you, not to let him to get too close, knowing that if got within arms reach you would pull him into you, wrap his arms around your back and your legs over his hips, never detach yourself from him, sink your lips over his neck and taste his pulse through his skin.

‘Cariño…’ he said, but you interrupted him, the searing heat of your mark now making its way to your racing heart.

‘I thought you would be happier with someone more like you… I thought it was a kindness, that you would feel something for someone that would be enough to make you happy. And I only ever wanted you to be happy, you have to understand that I did it so that you could be happy…’ you trailed off, the words spilling out of you now, distracted by the flames in your chest. ‘Karla said I should tell you, let you choose, and I know now that she was right, I think I always knew she was right, but the idea that you wouldn’t choose me, I wasn’t sure I could survive it, so I didn’t let you. It was selfish and it wasn’t very brave and I know I hurt you, and I never wanted to…’ you felt tears on your cheeks, marvelled at them, at how they could appear unbidden. You weren’t sure you were breathing. You weren’t fully convinced you were alive.

‘Cariño…’ he tried again, taking another step towards you but you held your hand up, your aching mark now uncovered.

‘Please, please…I don’t think I can…’ you started, but you didn’t know how to finish. You didn’t think you could stand it if he’d come here to just finally end things. To tell you he was going to marry Vineyard but wanted a clear conscience first. Wanted to let you down easy, in person. Was your mark burning because he was furious with you? He mostly just seemed nervous.

‘Let me speak, Cariño, oh my god,’ he muttered, his patience rapidly running out. You stopped short. ‘I know. I mean, not at first. At first, I did not understand, but I thought about what you must have been feeling, how you must have thought of me.’

‘No, I…’

‘The silly man who runs around causing you problems.’

‘No…’ you started, but he kept talking, despite you.

‘But then I thought harder, and I felt more.’ He gestured to his mark, the perfect match for yours. ‘I was not angry, Cariño, I could never be angry at you. I was sad, I think, that I had failed you.’

You shook your head, the words failing you.

‘I felt more into the mark…I do not think I am making any sense. But I thought of you, my Cariño, I think I heard you in my head a little bit, and I thought of your beautiful heart, and I knew why you did it.’

‘You did?’

At this he shrugged, honest and raw. ‘Of course I did, you are my One.’

‘Why did I do it?’ you asked him, genuinely still trying to settle it for yourself.

‘Because you love, and this is how you show it. You put others first. You always have.’ You nodded. This was true. ‘I see that about you, Cariño. What do you see about me?’

You answered immediately. ‘I see a man who feels deeply and freely, who is passionate about what he wants… who usually gets it.’

‘Usually?’ he asked. You noticed for the first time that, since he had started talking, he had also been moving towards you. That if you reached out to him, and he reached out to you, skin would meet skin.

‘Always,’ you said, grinning.

He nodded. ‘It is true, I will not lie,’ he said. ‘I get what I want.’

He took another step, and this time you stayed put.

‘You don’t hate me? You’re not mad? All those dates…’ you asked, and he shook his head.

‘I knew,’ he said, devastating you in two words.

‘You did?’ you asked, with the little breath you still had.

‘Some part of me knew, yes,’ he nodded. His brows were crashing together now, his face so earnest, so open, as he inched towards you like he was trying not to spook a bear. Later you would realise the closer he was to you the less your mark burned. You could smell him this close, more than his cologne but the clean, crisp scent that was just his skin, just Javi.

‘All of those women, Cariño. In all of those women I looked for you.’

You didn’t think. Nothing about it was conscious. You just felt the firework explode in your chest and moved to him, letting him pull you into his arms and kiss you, his lips searching and little muffled whimpers matching your own. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a melding, a coming together. It was something right and essential slotting into place, a line item checked off on the Universe’s ledger. You gasped into his mouth, your knees weak, your pulse heavy at your throat. His skin on yours. He reached up a hand to cup your jaw, pulling you closer into him.

‘Javi…’ you whispered, and he groaned a little.

‘Say it again,’ he said, and you did.

[dalessandra01]

I will throw rocks at your window

By @dalessandra01

Summary:

“Kate goes to visit Sophie’s room the night before her wedding, officially welcoming her as a sister. The two share an heartfelt conversation before they hear someone throwing rocks at Sophie’s window.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

She hadn't slept in such a comfortable bed for years. Or simply retired for the night without feeling pain from head to toe.

Sophie let herself fall onto the mattress with the same excitement as a small child, giggling for no reason other than just being happy.

She still couldn’t believe that by this time tomorrow, she would be married.

To Benedict Bridgerton, no less.

The man she had dreamed of every night since that unforgettable evening.

Was she really this lucky?

It felt like living in a fairytale.

Or perhaps a dream.

Would she now wake up and discover it had all been a figment of her imagination?

She turned over on the mattress, resting her head on the pillow.

It felt natural to touch her cheeks, and she realised how warm they were.

She felt a little shameless thinking about what would happen the next day when the celebrations would be over, and she and Benedict would leave for their honeymoon. Alone.

And this time, without worrying about anything.

She was free to be with him and no longer fear the arrival of children—in fact, at that moment, it was all she desired most.

She bit her lower lip at that thought.

She had agonised over the idea of a child so many times, even more so when she and Benedict had given in to passion, but now she could think calmly about their arrival. Was she perhaps rushing things?

She wasn’t even married yet, and she was already imagining what their children would look like.

And above all, how much she would love them.

This made her remember how much she longed to see her fiancé at that moment.

When they had returned from his apartment, Lady Bridgerton had not been particularly pleased that her request to be home by seven had been ignored.

But judging by her expression, she must have expected it.

Especially since Sophie hadn’t been scolded at all—Benedict had taken all the blame.

It had made her smile, even though she knew she had wanted it as much as he did.

But she certainly hadn’t expected Violet to be a vengeful person.

Not in a truly malicious way, but it was clear that she had done everything she could to ensure that the two of them were never alone in the same room.

And apparently, she had also involved the young Viscountess in the process.

It was actually a very sensible decision; Benedict might have been able to get around his mother, but never his sister-in-law.

Sophie had noticed from the start how tenacious the young Lady Bridgerton could be, but she hadn’t thought it would go this far.

She would almost swear that she found it amusing.

She lifted her head when she heard a knock on her door. For a moment, she almost fooled herself into thinking that Benedict had managed to sneak into Bridgerton House to visit her.

She held her breath, waiting for her visitor to reveal their identity:

“Sophie? May I come in?” Her smile faltered when she heard Kate’s voice from the other side of the door.

She took just a moment to recover from her disappointment and sat properly on the bed.

“Of course, come in,” she replied, not wanting to appear ungrateful for her visit.

Even when she was only a maid, Kate had always been extremely kind to her. If Sophie refused one of Violet’s invitations to join her and her daughters for tea, especially when she had visitors herself, Kate would insist she come.

Sometimes she even offered to make her chai, in case she didn’t feel like having English tea.

Besides, seeing how quickly little Edmund had become attached to Sophie must have made the Viscountess even more protective towards her.

And, very likely, Kate had been one of the first to notice Benedict’s feelings for her.

It was a universal rule—after the servants, the high-society ladies always knew everything, and Sophie considered Kate one of them.

The title suited her as if it were a custom-made dress; she moved and acted with such elegance that even if she had married a simple wealthy gentleman, it would have been a shame not to grant her husband a title so that Kate could continue being the noblewoman she was meant to be.

A role Sophie never saw herself in, to be honest.

Even if her father had recognised her as his daughter, giving her noble status, she could never have endured the pressure that came with it.

Of course, her life would have been easier, and perhaps she and Benedict could have courted properly, but… would he have courted her if she had been the daughter of an earl?

She and Benedict would never have faced financial problems, that was certain, but it was also true, at least from what she had gathered from reading Whistledown, that firstborn sons were always the most sought after on the marriage market.

And only once they were married did attention shift to the second sons.

Belonging to a family like the Bridgertons had certainly made Benedict a desirable match, but if Anthony had still been single, he would have taken second place.

And in this fantasy world where Sophie was a legitimate daughter, would he still have tried to approach her? Or would he have felt unworthy?

Her life had been horrible, yes.

But at least… it had brought her to this point: to that night, just a step away from saying the big “yes” and marrying the love of her life.

At that point, titles and social conventions no longer mattered.

From tomorrow on… it would be just her and Benedict.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Kate asked her with a teasing smile. Sophie raised a hand to her face, feeling it flush again.

“Is it that obvious?” she squeaked, unable to meet the other woman’s eyes.

“A little,” Kate laughed. “I’m sorry for keeping you two apart these days, but I won’t deny that I’ve enjoyed teasing my brother-in-law.”

“I imagine… I admit it’s satisfying to see him suffer a bit,” Sophie joked in return. After all, Benedict had spent much of the time she had worked for his mother tormenting her, trying to convince her to become his mistress.

He had apologised, true. But it was only fair he suffered a little for what he had put her through.

The only downside was that now, having him completely, being apart from him was torture for her as well.

“But I miss him terribly…” she ended up admitting.

“It’s only a few more hours,” Kate reassured her, gently stroking her arm. “And, in the meantime, I’ll take this moment to officially welcome you.”

Sophie’s eyes widened in surprise at those words.

“Welcome?” she asked.

“Yes, from tomorrow, you and I will be sisters,” Kate said, taking her hands. “You know… Anthony and Benedict are very close, being the eldest, and I’m glad he’s found a good match in you, Sophie. I’m sure we’ll spend a lot of time together.”

Sophie gave her a wide smile. All the Bridgertons had been incredibly warm once Benedict had announced their engagement.

In truth, she had felt like part of the family even before that.

But being welcomed by someone other than Violet warmed her heart, especially because Kate, more than anyone, knew what it was like to marry a Bridgerton.

“Thank you, Kate, really. That means a lot to me,” she said, smiling at her the whole time.

The Viscountess looked at her with an almost motherly expression before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” she asked gently. It was obvious that, for all the family might have discussed it, only Benedict knew her full past. What Kate could know was limited.

“You have no idea,” Sophie replied.

“If you ever feel like talking to someone, I’m here.” And it took all her willpower not to break down in tears.

Yes, Posy was her sister.

Now that she was away from Araminta, she was free to call her that, but Posy would always remain more of a little sister to Sophie, being the youngest.

What Kate was offering her, though, was what Rosamund should have been, but her vanity had always prevented her from being anything else: an older sister.

Without realising it, a tear had slipped down Sophie’s face, and her new sister promptly wiped it away, reassuring her.

“You’ll be a magnificent bride,” she said, and Sophie didn’t know whether to cry or not.

She wasn’t used to having such a figure in her life. For the first time, she felt truly loved and appreciated.

But the thought of where Benedict was kept tormenting her. She so longed to see him, even if just for a minute.

From what she understood, gentlemen prepared for their wedding day differently than brides did.

This was also because not all unions were as wanted as hers.

But from what she had gathered, while she had been pampered with beauty treatments, Benedict had gone somewhere with his two brothers. When it had been Anthony’s turn, they had simply stayed in his study, but since they were just a few doors away, the chance that Benedict would find a way to escape Anthony and Colin’s clutches was too plausible for them to remain at home.

Although Sophie had to admit that she would have liked that.

“Do you know where they are?” she ventured, lowering her gaze, wondering if she sounded too forward.

“At Mondrich’s. Anthony told me they were going to spend some time there and then bring him back home.”

The idea that his brothers trusted Benedict so little that they even volunteered to escort him back to his own house just to make sure he didn’t try to see Sophie the night before the wedding was almost laughable.

By now, it must have amused everyone, seeing how determined they were to ensure the two didn’t come together before tomorrow.

Suddenly, she blushed.

The thought crossed her mind that perhaps all that frustration could have some specific effects once the ceremony was over. Certainly, it would be enjoyable, and perhaps she should thank her new family for—no.

That was too much.

“Is everything alright?” Kate asked, with a knowing look.

“I think I’m just a bit warm,” she replied—strange to say, since it was autumn.

And indeed, it was clear that the Viscountess didn’t believe her one bit. Without saying another word, she got up and left.

For a moment, Sophie thought she was retiring for the night, but a few seconds later, she was back by her side, with the same composure that characterised her.

“What’s going on?” Sophie asked, confused.

“I’ve sent for a bottle of whisky from Anthony’s study,” Kate replied matter-of-factly.

Sophie’s eyes widened.

“But I’ve never had whisky.”

“Neither have I,” Kate replied. “But I have a feeling it’ll be one of the first experiences we share together.”

Meanwhile, the bottle had been brought on a tray with two glasses. The butler offered them his respects with a bow and then disappeared.

“Won’t Anthony mind that we’re drinking his whisky?” Sophie asked as Kate poured the liquor into her glass.

“Perhaps, but it’s a problem I’ll deal with when he finds out,” she replied.

“Welcome to the world of married women, Sophie Baek.” She couldn’t help but laugh at Kate’s satisfied expression.

After all, it was highly likely that Benedict was in a similar situation right now, so what was wrong with indulging in a bit of alcohol?

“I’m not sure if Benedict and Anthony will be happy to know we’re getting along or…”

“Afraid that we might team up against them?”

At that point, Sophie burst out laughing.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

"I must do it."

Benedict declared, stepping forward with determination. Anthony quickly grabbed him by the sleeve.

"Hold on," he reprimanded, "You've waited this long; you can wait until tomorrow to see her."

Benedict looked at his brother in frustration.

They had just come from Mondrich’s, and perhaps it was the whiskey clouding his judgment, but he felt an overwhelming need to see his bride-to-be. Just for a minute. He was certain he wouldn’t be able to sleep unless she gave him one of her radiant smiles. One of those smiles that could rival the brilliance of the stars.

"Please, brother, just for a minute," he pleaded, realizing how desperate he sounded for begging Anthony of all people. "I swear, I have no ill intentions."

"I highly doubt that," his older brother replied, rolling his eyes.

"Please, I just want to do something foolish," cursed whiskey, making him talk like an idiot, but if it meant seeing Sophie, he didn’t care.

"I never got to court Sophie properly, and to make up for it, I want to go stand under her window."

At that moment, Colin had joined them, clearly holding back laughter.

"Are you planning to recite her a sonnet, brother?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"I might," Benedict was seriously considering it for a moment. He wasn’t sure what exactly he would do once he got under her balcony,

"Something—anything, I don’t know, but I just want to see her."

Anthony sighed,

"Alright, but don’t make too much noise."

Before he could continue, Benedict had already thrown his arms around his neck.

"Thank you, thank you!"

"Dear God, I swear this is the last time I drink with you."

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Maybe Sophie should have realized that since it was her first time tasting alcohol, she would start feeling strange after just the second glass. Even Kate seemed to have let loose a bit, and they ended up talking about everything, the inhibition from the liquor making them laugh at every silly thing they said.

"Wait, wait—! What do you mean he bought her a horse?"

"I swear, he showed up outside our house with a horse."

"And this was just to convince your sister to marry him?"

"He's very competitive."

"I can see that."

They both burst into laughter like two little girls, and when Sophie finally caught her breath, she naturally blurted out:

"And did he ever buy you a horse?"

"No, and I keep holding it against him," Kate replied with a smirk.

"Then I need to find something to hold against Benedict," Sophie joked.

"Great idea," Kate replied. "Maybe the fact that he didn’t recognize you?"

"Isn’t that a bit too cruel?"

"It’s useful when you need to negotiate," Kate shrugged. "You’ll need it when you have children."

Sophie felt her face flush again, but before she could respond, a tapping sound on the window made her turn.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, hoping the alcohol hadn’t made her imagine things.

Kate nodded, and Sophie moved to check.

When she pulled back the curtain, a small stone hit the window, making her jump.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

"Have you gone mad?!"

Anthony half-yelled at Benedict.

"How else am I supposed to get her to look out without shouting?" he retorted.

"Stop that, you’ll break the glass," his brother ordered, trying to stop him, probably cursing the fact that Colin had decided to head home, leaving them alone. You had to wonder if he did it on purpose.

"They're pebbles, not rocks," Benedict protested.

"It’s still my house!" But before Anthony could argue further, Sophie peeked out from the window.

Benedict grinned like a fool, forgetting whatever quarrel he had with his brother. She was stunning, and how he wished he could climb that damn wall just to steal a little kiss from her.

"Sophie!" he exclaimed.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her expression happy, though he noticed a slight flush on her cheeks, but paid it no mind.

"I wanted to see you."

She let out a small laugh. What a melodious sound.

"You would have seen me tomorrow."

"I couldn’t wait any longer," he said brightly, "I wouldn’t have been able to sleep without seeing you, even for just a second."

He saw her place a hand on her chest, her smile growing wider. It made him proud that his words touched her, but he knew he could do better.

"You are more beautiful than the moon and stars, Sophie. I can’t wait to be your husband."

"Oh, Benedict," she murmured.

"I want a kiss from you. Please, just one," he begged, completely forgetting Anthony was right there.

And, unbeknownst to him, not alone.

"Benedict! Don’t you dare!" Anthony shouted.

But before Benedict could take even one step toward the wall, they both found themselves soaked.

Kate had appeared next to Sophie, holding an empty pitcher—the one usually kept on the nightstand for water—in her hands.

"Go to bed, Benedict. You’re getting married tomorrow!" his sister-in-law said in an authoritative tone before shutting the window.

Benedict looked at Anthony, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead by now.

"Remind me never to cross your wife."

"And you remind me never to drink with you again."

[starryeyedcas]

Every Destiel Fic I’ve Ever Read [WIP]

Let’s do it! I took this list directly from my twitter

I’m not really going to post my ratings and stuff and I’m not going to copy what I said verbatim because as I grow older my opinions always change and every fic deserves love regardless of what some stranger on the internet thinks! Check these out if you need something new to read :)

Also, side note: A lot of the fics I tend to read are either non-canon or pre S10. If your looking for canon type, recent fics this will not be a list for you and I apologize :(

Also pt. 2: Some of the fics that I have listed on my twitter are no longer available so I have decided to not list them here. It’s very sad because there were some really good ones! Regardless, I’m still trying to keep this list as up to date as I possibly can when it comes to my reading ventures. Either way, I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I do <3

1. NINETY ONE WHISKEY

By komodobits, 401,193 words (not counting other fics in the series)

Please, please, please! Read this if you haven’t yet!! It’s a slow burn, World War II based fic and it’s my absolute favorite fic of all time. In fact I think it may be my favorite story of all time!! I come back to this fic always. If I’m sad, I read it. If I’m happy, I read it. I’ve read it probably 4 or 5 times at this point and it always holds up. I will say though, IT WILL MAKE YOU CRY. Dean and Cas are written VERY well, in fact every character in this fic are written to perfection. You find yourself growing attachments to side characters that you may have even forgotten existed in the show. I seriously cannot recommend this one enough. You will not regret it.

2. A BRIEF GLIMPSE

By cloudyjenn, 12,356 words

I’ll be honest, this one is special for me. This was the very first Destiel fic I ever read back in 2014. That being said, I may be a little biased towards it but I do genuinely think that it’s very cute. It’s a Slice-of-Life esque story with light supernatural happenings; where Castiel is in high school and has a very big crush on his best friend, Sam Winchester. Things start to go awry when Sam invites Cas to a carnival. I won’t spoil too much though! If you want a quick read with some fluff, definitely read this one.

3. SMELLS LIKE ROSES

By unknown :(, 53,828 words

Uhoh! A Djinn fic! I remember this one just hurting me so much. Dean is living his dream life. Everything around him is perfect and he’s mysteriously very happy. When you get to the end of this fic, holy cow the heartbreak. It’s written very well, you obviously can’t go wrong with a fic that slightly follows canon. I really like this one and I might reread it again soon but I cannot stress enough how much it hurts! Stay safe out there.

4. NOT ALL THE WAY THROUGH

By Tracy, around 4,700 words

Shorter fic based around s5 episodes 3 and 4. This one is good but it’s also very painful. I think I like fics that hurt me lol. There are some warnings I want to state! This fic features substance abuse, non con, mentions of torture and A CHARACTER DEATH so please be careful! This is told through Castiel’s perspective and all the summary says is “Castiel’s new life begins and ends with Dean.” So I will leave it at that. (Also as a side note whenever I think of this fic I think of the song ‘And So it Goes’ by Billy Joel. Listen to that while reading and you are sure to shed some tears. Stay safe friends xx)

5. PAINTED ANGELS

By WinnJennster, 105,637 words

This one used to be really popular, so it’s likely many of you have already read it. Either way I will still recommend it. It’s a nice little “reunited” type fic in which Cas is an author and Dean is a painter. I will say, however, that the angst in this fic is HEAVY. Personally, I’m not huge into giant angsty fics like this, or maybe the type of angst portrayed in this one. I just remember feeling a little frustrated by it. YET, this fic has a lot of good memorable moments with some fluff sprinkled throughout. If you love angst, this is the fic for you. WARNING though, you need an AO3 account to read this fic. If you’re not already logged in, you’re out of luck.

6. TWIST AND SHOUT

By Gabriel and standbyme, 97,556 words

Who are we kidding?? Everyone on this website KNOWS this fic. You all could probably recount it backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down. Who knows. All we know is that this fic is a capital S-A-D. When I was in high school, I LOVED this fic. I adored it, no matter how much it made me cry. Because YES there is a MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. And NO it’s not FUN. Can I be honest? After rereading it, I feel as if Cas and Dean are out of character! Doesn’t mean it’s a bad story, absolutely not. It’s beautiful! I think it’s wonderful and obviously I recommend it. But you could change the names of the boys and you wouldn’t even know its based off two characters from Supernatural. This is my hill and I will gladly die on it. Read it if you dare, but remember to beware OOooOOoooOo (another side note: I had to go to the fic to get the link for this post and I swear to God my eyes watered when I read that first sentence. I HATE and I LOVE this fic all at the same time.)

7. SMOKE IN THE MIRROR

By letters_of_stars, 52,327 words

Oh shoot! Dean is an artist and he needs a nude model!! Who do you think is gonna take the bait?!?! In all seriousness though, I really adore this one. YES Castiel is nude and YES Dean is painting him but if you’re expecting smut right from the get go you are mistaken! I wanna say this is another slow burn?? But it has also been a while since I’ve read it. I just remember liking this one a lot. In my original rating, I gave it a 5/5 so that’s gotta mean something. Another little slice of life with a lot of good moments. Check it out!

8. A HOME BENEATH THE STARS

By CheshireMoon, 71,240 words

Hi, it’s me again. The girl who likes fics that rip her heart to SHREDS. I’m gonna be about as vague as can about this one because boy did that ending catch me off guard when I first read it. So Dean is homeless, right? And Cas is a kind hearted, Good Samaritan, astronomer. When the two meet Dean’s life changes… for the better… I’m gonna leave it at that. You could be ignorant like me and skip over the warnings to this fic and just leave it to good will and faith that this fic will leave you happy and giggly. Or you could do yourself a favor and know what’s coming but not know when it happens. Either way, I still recommend this one. I really like it, just make sure you have a fluff fest fic waiting for you on the other side.

9. THE FACE OF HEAVEN

By orange_crushed, 9,772 words

This one is short and so so sweet. Another type of slice-of-life where Dean is just a gay bartender living his best gay bartending life when he suddenly comes across a fallen star whose name is Castiel. It’s very unique and I love it so much. In my original opinion of this fic I said I didn’t like the formatting? And I think what I meant to say is, I don’t like reading long paragraphs but the formatting to this fic is perfectly fine lol. Still a fun little read and it’s pretty fluffy!

10. SO MUCH TANGLED THREAD

By imogenbynight, 37,428 words

Holy crap! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES. It’s like, Ninety One Whiskey almost, except there’s time travel, and supernatural happenings, and OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS FIC. It’s ends pretty quick but it’s still so so so good. Please read it, show it some love. I think about this one from time to time and I still smile. Much like with Painted Angels, you need an account to read this one. So make sure you’re logged in! If you don’t have an account you best get that invitation fr.

11. DIAMOND STAR HALO

By had, 4,924 words

Just pure fluff told from Sam Winchester’s perspective. I kind of have a soft spot for fics told from a third party perspective because it’s like they’re seeing Dean and Cas how WE see Dean and Cas and it makes me all giddy, I dunno. This is a good short read and you should definitely read it after reading something really sad and heart wrenching!

12. CINDERWINGS

By bendingsignpost, 181,619 words

STOP!! I love this fic!! It’s a Cinderella type story, there’s a masquerade ball, Dean is a PRINCE. Very fantasy with supernatural elements. It’s WONDERFUL. The way the author writes about the world through Castiel’s perspective is super entertaining and funny and I love the misunderstandings that happen within the story. If you love fantasy and monarchy and magic and parties, this is definitely a fic for you.

13. ONE WHITE LIE

By komodobits, 11.179 words

I can’t lie, komodobits is my favorite fic author and so I am a little biased towards their stories. This one is no exception. It’s hilarious, lighthearted, and fluffy. The range that this author has with their fics amazes and horrifies me. How can one person have that much talent? I have no idea. This is just a komodobits appreciation post, you got me. Anywho, Castiel tells a small lie to the Winchester brothers and they mess with him. Not based in canon, a very slice-of-life fic. I love it, please check it out.

14. FORGET-ME-NOT BLUES

By noangelsinthegarrison, 68,689 words

Ahhh I remember this one. Another slice-of-life, have you noticed a pattern? Sam and Jess are getting married! Woohoo! Of course Dean is in the wedding but so is Castiel, someone Dean has history with……….. Basically there’s misunderstandings and mutual pining and it’s fun. It’s got all sorts of romcom elements with just a dash of angst!

15. MUSCLE MEMORY

By komodobits, 18,961 words

Give me a story that’s loosely based off of 50 First Dates and written by my favorite fic author and suddenly I’m in Heaven. I’m a really big fan of movie AU’s, especially well written and this one is no exception. It’s kind of sad though, but if you’ve seen 50 First Dates then you should expect that. Even if you aren’t a fan of movie AU’s, I would still suggest giving this one a read.

16. KIND OF A FOREVER DEAL

By komodobits, 111,460 words

STOP LOOKING AT ME. YOU THINK IM PUTTING TOO MANY FICS BY THE SAME AUTHOR HERE? WELL YOU LISTEN TO ME PAL, THIS WON’T BE THE LAST ONE EITHER!! Ahem, this fic is awesome and sort of a fan favorite already!! Slice-of-life, teenaged angst, summer camp, LoVe, it’s amazing! The way that the author wrote the friendship between Dean, Cas, Jo, and Victor has me in tears. Very wholesome and heart wrenching, highly recommend!

17. IMPERFECT PROPOSALS

By Fallen_Angel_Meg, 111,082 words

Another movie AU! This is loosely based off The Proposal and filled with fluff! You really don’t see a whole lot of crossover fics that are long like this one, but it’s fun to read and you’ll probably fly through it just like I did. Do you like The Proposal? No? Read it anyways xx

18. CHECKED OUT

By whelvenwinge, 27,127 words

Okay this one, is really good. Like really good. It comes complete with original artwork and fantastic storytelling. Castiel is a librarian and he really despises Dean Winchester, an acclaimed author. It’s sooooo good, I cannot stress enough how much I think you should read this. And you’ll get really pretty pictures to look at! The ending is great, the beginning is great, it’s just wonderful. So what are you waiting for? Run along now and read it!

19. SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS

By habitatfordeanwinchester, 2,593

This one is just cute. It’s short and fluffy. Imagine Castiel working at a Chipotle and getting special instructions on a mobile order. Can you guess who they’re from? If you’re sad and need a pick me up, just read this one. It’s so cute!

20. C-S-T-L

By komodobits, 90,377

It has been a really long time since I read this one. But I know that I loved every second of it and I was crying during the majority of it. Either because I had just got done reading 91w or because the story itself made me emotional. Either way it’s a fantastic read! Castiel is an android and Dean is tasked with adding him to their army for the WAR. This fic has wonderful world building, really in-depth character exploration, and the ANGST. I’m probably going to read this one again sometime soon~ JOIN MEEEEE

[observeowl]

Second Chance | Chapter 8 - Life Lessons

Series masterlist

sorry! i haven't been putting the taglist for the last 2 chapters. but you can reach it through the masterlist. hopefully i will remember it from now on.

You woke up about an hour later, sitting peacefully on the bench with Andrew. It was night out, and hardly anyone was walking outside except the few who came out to refill their bottle or take a breather. 

“Are you awake?” You hummed, still not wanting to go back in again despite having an hour's break. “Shouldn’t you at least finish the last half hour of training? I know Clint came out a few times looking for you, even though he didn’t say anything.” 

You stretched your limbs, resigning to the fate that you have to head back in. You used to take this opportunity to see Nat when she came to see Clint each week. You no longer feel the spark of interest you had when you first joined Archery. Now, it’s more of a mandatory thing than something you look forward to every week. 

With a clap of your hands, you stood up from the bench and headed back to range. Clint gave you a silent disappointed look before looking back at others. You ignored him and got back to your position to shoot the last few arrows before everyone called it a day. It was tough for everyone to have such a long training session when the minimum was 2.5 hours. Some come for the whole 5 hours in school, and this was practically twice that. 

He dropped you off at your door and passed you your archery bag. “Have a good night’s rest. I know you’re not staying long tomorrow, and you have a long way back.” You suggested to Andrew to head back to his room for some sleep as you were planning to stay behind to use the gym here tomorrow morning. Andrew has his basketball training session in the afternoon, which he has to get to; otherwise, he would have stayed and waited with you. 

“How are you going to head back though?” 

“I’ll figure something out.” He nodded before saying goodbye to your friends in the same room and left. 

“You two are in your honeymoon phase.” Your friend was stating the fact without any malic when she saw how lovey-dovey you were with him. You didn’t have anything to defend or deny as you knew this was how you and Nat started. Always next to each other, texting one another, until you saw disagreements that were too hard to settle.

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” You asked. She shook her head, and you just smiled. This was what you felt before you fell in love with Nat. Those couples that over-display affection was interesting to you. You never understood why they were always in each other’s space. But ever since with Nat, every little thought brings you back to her. It may not even be something she liked, but you wanted to share everything with her, the little things that made you happy such as seeing a cat on your way to work or a nice dress that you saw someone wearing.

“You’ll understand when you get one.” 

===

In the morning, you woke up in time to have breakfast before seeing Andrew off. You decided that since there were still 3 hours before checkout, you’d pack your bags, leaving out the things you require for your gym session. 

You were slightly self-conscious entering the gym, not because you weren’t confident in your own body, but because you were a gym noob. This was the first time you entered the gym alone, without anyone guiding you. You weren’t sure if you were going to use the equipment correctly or if you were hogging the equipment that someone was planning to use. 

You liked to stand in the corner with your weights, surveying everyone through the mirror. No one was going to use your weights, right? You were using the lightest one available, and most gym goers use the medium to heavy weights or the other machines. But either way, your mind was louder than the music in your ears, and you eventually left the gym after an hour of workout. 

“Didn’t think I'd see you here.” You lift your head to see Natasha looking at you. She was heading to the gym, the one who taught you gym basics. You ignored her and continued making your way to your room. “We have to be around each other, and you can’t keep ignoring me.” That made you stop walking and look around. You didn’t see anyone, so there was no point putting up an act to acknowledge her. 

“Hey, Y/N! You went to the gym too?” Suddenly Maria came out of nowhere, and you just smiled and nodded. “We are about to head to the gym too. Nat needs to get over her hangover, and she’s offering to guide me on what to do.” 

“Have a nice time. I’m sure you’re going to learn a lot.” You turned to leave, but Natasha called you once again.  

“How are you going back? I heard from Clint that Andrew left in the morning.” You had the intense feeling to give her a sarcastic comment, but you held back since Maria was here. 

“I can figure it out. I’ll take a bus or Uber if I feel like I’m rich.” You shrugged your shoulders before finally leaving. 

Your friends were doing their final packing as you entered the room. Since they were staying in the dorm, they were heading back together. You begged them to bring your bow bag with them and place it in the school locker because there was no way you were going to be carrying that heavy ass bag alone. 

As the logistic director of the archery team, you was designated to collect everyone’s keycard to return to the front desk after making sure everyone returned it. The only ones remaining were part of the executive committee. Since everyone was here, they decided to hold a quick meeting regarding the upcoming tournament. For your part, you have to get everything ready for the captain, such as the toolbox and first aid kit. 

This was the first tournament you were going to be participating in. Not exactly the first, but the first in this version of this life. Before this, you used to only head to the tournament to cheer them on, even though it starts really early and is held more than an hour away from your home. 

In actual fact, it has been a long time since you participated in any tournament. The atmosphere of hearing and seeing forty people shoot all at the time was something you were unable to find anywhere else. 

Once everything was settled, everyone was free to leave. Some already had a car and drove here, but they stayed in a different direction than you. Just as you were deciding how you were going to head back, your phone received a message. 

Gave you some money for an Uber back home :) 

It was Andrew. Before you could reply, he sent another message. 

I know you can well afford this, but you don’t have to save money every way you can. Plus, I want you to have a comfortable ride home. 

A smile plastered your face when you read his text. You didn’t think he remembered when you said you were trying to get a head start above everyone else in terms of earning money and getting a job because your parents were significantly older compared to your peer’s parents. As the only child, the burden of taking care of your parents falls on you. As much as they tried preparing for their retirement, the rising cost of living and inflation stresses you out. 

Thanks. How about we meet for lunch? I can pay it back to you then. My treat. 

Sure. I’ll hold you to it.

You picked up your bag, getting ready to leave and say goodbye to the group when Clint came forward to talk to you. You resisted rolling your eyes, not knowing what he was trying to talk to you about. 

“Look, I… you’re improving a lot, and I believe you will do well in the competition. I have never seen someone improve as quickly as you. Someone such as you in the novice section would do very well.” 

“Thank you. But I wouldn’t put too much faith in myself. There are others out there that do amazing as well.” 

“Have a good rest. I know training was tough, especially yesterday.” 

You nodded before giving him a small wave and pointing to the back, suggesting you were leaving this place and the conversation. 

===

A few days later

You brought your family out for lunch since their work gets quieter during the year-end. You brought them to a ramen place your future self found and thought it would be nice to introduce them to if they were still around. It also has a mall nearby to shop around if they like to do so. 

As long as the shop sells spicy ramen, you know what you’re going to order for your father. However, your taste buds and stomach were like children at times, more often choosing to share with your mother as you may not be able to finish the food yourself and not want to waste any. 

“Do you want the corn or pork option?” You asked your mother for her opinion. 

“I don’t mind; either is fine.” 

Such a tough decision. Ultimately, you decided on the ramen that includes corn since you were going to order gyoza as a side dish. 

As you were eating, your phone started receiving a lot of messages. You took a peek at what was happening from your lock screen and noticed it came from Camellia and Diana. They seemed really excited at what they were discussing, so you took a break from eating and checked your phone. 

C: Guys, guys, the results are out!!

D: Really?

C: Yeah, my friend checked hers

D: Ok, ok, I’m going to check.

OMG… I’m so nervous

C: Me too! I totally forgot what was on the test, though. 

You would love to check your results too, but you preferred using your laptop to check instead. And you would like to get your emotions in check before getting your results. This part of the test always freaks you out more than taking the actual test itself. You took a few deep breaths before putting your phone down and resumed eating again. It isn’t uncommon for you to feel irritated after looking at your phone, so your parents don’t think too much about it. 

You’ve always wanted to get those high-cut Converse, and you took this chance on Christmas sales to get one. You could have gotten it after you started working, but you felt it was too casual even though people wore them. You couldn’t lie, you were tempted though, but your morals stopped you. 

You tried different designs of shoes, so while waiting for the store assistant to get one in your size, you went out to tell your father he could wait somewhere else or in a pub, drinking his beer. He isn’t one to shop for a very long time. You got your mother’s opinion as you walked up and down, trying to get comfortable in the shoes. Ultimately, you decided on one and paid for it as your mother texted your father to meet at the car in order to head home. 

Once you get home, you quickly open your laptop and log into your school email account to check for your results. You felt your heart beating out of your chest, and your hands shook as you typed in your details. The more you felt you could do well, the more nervous you were especially since you have gone through one round of this

So, when you saw you only received a B grade for all of your subjects, your body slumped back down on your chair in a daze. You had a hard time registering how badly you did. How was this even possible? 

You really wanted to excel in this life and get rid of always being the average person in the class. But, even with this second chance, you’re stuck with that title; how was this fair? 

A B grade generally isn’t bad, but it is when that’s all you get. Were you only capable of getting a B?

You checked the email one more time before going to the official application and saw the same results. You resigned to fate and closed your laptop after that. 

After seeing the sad news, a nice day out with your family has ended badly. Thankfully your friends weren’t the type to ask to share results, so you flopped onto your bed and went to sleep. 

That was the first time in forever you let a tear slip because of your grade. 

===

“Hey Nat! Have you checked your results?” Clint asked when he realised today’s date. 

“No, is it today?” She pulled out her phone and checked her calendar. 

“Yeah! Hurry up and check it so I can gauge what I got!” He rushed her, giving her his phone with the login page ready for her. Maria, who was having lunch with them, also went to check her results using her phone more peacefully than her friends. 

“What’s the rush? Not like your results will change if I check now or later.” Despite saying that, Nat accepted his phone and checked her results to give her friend peace of mind. It took a while for the page to load, but she got there eventually. Happy with her result, she returned the phone to Clint without saying anything. 

“Holy shit! An A for everything!?” Clint exclaimed when he saw Nat’s results. Nat smirked at his response. She was confident that she was going to ace her exams. Law test was more practical in that sense; whatever she did in her career could be used in the exams. Unlike yours, you specialise more in the audit side, which was not tested.  The diners at the restaurant turned to look at them for a moment when he shouted. “What about you, Maria?” 

“Aced it too.”

“Right, right. So I should do well too, right?” Clint asked tentatively as he logged in with his details. Both women looked at each other sceptically, knowing he was not the brightest student in the class. 

“Well, I don’t know, Clint.” Maria sighed. “Who was the one who had to remind you a test was coming up?” 

“Nat?” 

“Who was the one who had to help you when you were doing your group project?” Maria continued asking. 

“Nat...” 

“Who was the one who had to give you their notes when you weren’t listening in class?” 

“Nat. Okay, okay… I get it. My grades aren’t going to be that good.” Clint grumbled as he waited for the page to load. Nat and Maria crossed their arms and stared at him as they waited. Sensing their stares, Clint turned his body away and shielded his phone from their prying eyes. “Alright, I got it. Not that good, but good enough.” He informed them as he pocketed his phone. 

“You’re not going to tell us what you get?” Maria asked. “How’s that fair? We both told you our results.”

“You told me willingly. I didn’t force it out of you.” Clint defended. 

“I got it.” Nat’s phone displayed Clint’s results, and Maria moved at the speed of lightning to grab it before Clint could even react. 

“How?!?” Clint looked at Nat, feeling betrayed. 

“Do you really want to know?” Nat raised her eyebrow. “I memorised your school ID since I always submitted the work. And your password is so easy to decipher. For the sake of god, find something else.” 

“Maria! That’s enough, give me my phone back.” She decided that it was enough of teasing Clint. “You didn’t do too badly. Just one B and one B+, and three As.”

“But it pales in comparison to the both of you.” 

“Why don’t we invite the others to the bar? Celebrate our results and drown in sorrow that the holiday is ending.” Maria suggested. 

“Alright, let me just text someone.” Maria nodded and went ahead with Clint to the bar they often visited with the group. 

Nat unlocked her phone and was about to press on your contact when she remembered you wanted nothing to do with her. She wanted to know how you were doing. On the surface, you always looked like you were okay with your results, shrugging your shoulders and waving it off, but she knew you cared a lot more and wanted a lot more. In the end, she closed her phone and went to the bar. 

Series masterlist

@queen-of-chaotic-surprises @esposadejoyhuerta @gemz5 @natsxwife

@dyslexic-dreamer @unexpected-character @eternalnight410

@leenasayeed @oh-thats-sad @skz-xii @gay-frogs-dancing-around

@justspance

[lovinglylibelle]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 (gojo's pov)

-navigation || masterlist-

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

genre : slow burn, fluff, first meet

description : how an encounter with a stranger left him wondering about the possibility of love

requests : open

a/n : it took a while but here it issssss, i am very proud of it and i am like very happy about it. its really good if you decide to read it anddddddd well, if you read it and like it, please click that little heart and reblog so that i can reach more people. Thank you so much 🤍

YOUR POV

Contrary to what people said, Gojo Satoru quite liked it when it rained. It never bothered him or got in his way since he was always protected by that little bubble of his, literally.

So when the winds picked up and the rain turned from soothing drizzles to heavy shower, he wasn't troubled in the least. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he just casually walked through the streets of Tokyo; looking for new curses to exorcise because you never know where they might be lurking.

The sight around him however, was the opposite; everyone was running around to find refuge from the seemingly neverending downpour. it was chaotic.

Too serious, he thought, everyone was too serious at all times... They should be enjoying moments like these but all they did was run away frantically.

Gojo wasn't like that, he appreciated the things life had to offer him and it wasn't because his life was at stake or something. He knew it well that he wasn't going to die anytime soon, or ever if he was being honest; thanks to his infinity and six eyes and his devilishly handsome looks. He liked these things because they were a welcome break and a moment of normalcy in his already hectic and tiring lifestyle. 'you're such a loser' they would say, which is why he kept such thoughts to himself, safe and away from judgement... others' perception of who he was did not actually matter to Gojo, he just didn't like the unnecessary drama and chatter it created.

The cars were driving past him, their dirty splashes failing to reach him. He kicked a stone out of his path, making a game out of it until he noticed a candy cart in front of him.

His eyes lit up with childlike excitement as he happily made his way towards it only to find out that the candyman was trying to hurry away to save his cart.

"Excuse me! I want to buy some candies!" he said as he followed the cart,

"Really sorry sir but i can't stop here in the rain, it will ruin all the candies." the cart owner bowed and apologised, his pace never stopping.

"i'll buy them all! please? i'll pay you extra." he pleaded but to no avail, the cart owner, much to his inconvenience, had an honest business and didn't want to take advantage of the situation.

He pouted seeing the cart pull away from him as the intensity of the rain increased. He looked up and suddenly didn't really like standing under the pale wide sky anymore. The mere sight of the previously pleasant rain now making him frown.

Spotting a busstop nearby, he decided that it was gonna be his solace for the moment and jogged towards it casually.

He was upset and it showed by how he was huffing and groaning, tapping his feet impatiently as if he was bored already and cursing the rain. His shoulder sagged and he pouted but not before feeling somebody's gaze on him. He turned around just in time to see a girl glance away from him, sitting on one of the benches, immersed in her reading.

There was something about her calm exterior amidst the chaos that made him curious, and Gojo being Gojo, had to speak up. So he did. He sat next to her, at a comfortable distance.

"Hey," he said, turning around to face her. She was reading something and her hair hid her face from him.

She glanced up, taking a moment and it was the first time that Gojo Satoru was caught off guard. The world had seemed to still around him, the sound of rain no longer audible as he looked at her. He followed her movements as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at him inquisitively.

"What are you reading?"he asked, glancing at the book as he brought himself back from his thoughts.

"Oh this?" she asked, turning it around to inspect it, "just a random book i found in the bookstore right around the corner." she answered, much to his surprise.

He wasn't used to direct answers or a normal conversation, everyone in the Jujutsu world had a stick up their ass and would rarely ever talk courteously, himself included.

"Yeah? what's it about?" he asked, growing more curious as the time passed.

"Well according to what i have read till now, its about love at first sight... soulmates in a way." she said, a small pout on her face as she recalled the book.

oh... cute

"Love at first sight? do you believe in it?" he asked before he could stop himself, Suguru had warned him that he needed to think before speaking and well, Gojo hated that he was right.

Despite just blurting it out, he was interested in hearing her thoughts and to his relief, she didn't seem to mind as she happily indulged in answering his question.

"While i have never experienced it first hand, the way people describe it makes it seem that its definitely real." she looked away, thinking some more

"However, i once read about the concept, 'koi no yokan' somewhere and i believe in that instead." she said with a nod.

He watched her speak, entranced by her every word as he listened attentively. Somehow Gojo Satoru was listening, he was listening to someone other than Geto talk, and he didn't even know why.

Koi No Yokan... he had heard about it from Suguru, it was something like 'love at second sight' or something, he wasn't quite sure. Love was a foreign concept to him, having never experienced it and friendship being the closest to love he ever got. He didn't feel bad though, he knew that in his life, love was something he would probably never experience, so why even bother about the concept as a whole? He almost thought of the girl as naive but something about the way she spoke, told him otherwise.

"Do you?" she asked, interrupting him and catching his attention with the most earnest and curious look he had ever seen.

"believe in love at first sight that is?" and it was the first time in a while that Gojo found himself thinking before answering,

Satoru didn't know a thing about love, how it happened, why it happened, would it even happen or was it even real in the first place. When it came to this, thing, he was as clueless as they came but he would never admit it... So, love at first sight was also, unsurprisingly, something he knew barely about but that didn't mean he didn't have an opinion on it. For him, love at first sight didn't exist, cause even if love was real, its too big of a deal to happen at the first look.

"I think i do, somewhat. i believe in being attracted at first sight, love seems farfetched for someone like me." he replied with a smug face, he wasn't lying though, it was a far too fictional idea for him.

"Oh? would you mind telling me why is that?" she asked him, which, again, he wasn't expecting at all. He thought the conversation would end here but it didn't.

He observed her for a moment, wondering whether it would be a good idea to entertain the question or not. She seemed like a good person to him, something about her aura was comforting and welcoming, he felt warm. She seemed genuinely interested too, so he formed the best answer he could.

"Well even i know that love requires time and sacrifice, both of which i can't offer with my line of work and besides, why would anybody ever want to settle with just one person when you can be with many, anytime?" he said, leaning back into the bench, carefully hiding behind the cocky persona.

She clicked her tongue and nodded slowly, thinking about what he had said. Her eyes were on him, and Satoru could almost understand what it felt like for someone when he looked at them with his six eyes... he felt as if she could see through him.

"I get where you are coming from," she said, shifting back and looking ahead of her, deep in thought. Gojo took this moment to analyse her carefully,

"but I dont agree with that last bit you know? I personally believe that having that one person in your life, the one you decide to spend forever with, letting them become half of your soul, is simply magical and something that all of us deserve to have." she looked back at him, a wistful smile on her face.

"Don't you think it would be special to have one person, dedicated entirely to you while you are just as devoted to them?" her smile was now a happy one, and he kinda liked that.

Somehow, Gojo understood what she was saying, he even agreed with her subconsciously but he didn't know that. He mulled over her words, gaining a seemingly new perspective. He didn't mind the ongoing conversation though, he would hear more and ask more of her opinions if time allowed.

"Maybe..." he said, taking a deep breath. Maybe he would want that, it sounded nice but it would be foolish to hope for it.

The rain was slowing down and he decided to take it as a cue or else he would end up sitting there all night and being deduced as a creep.

"But i wont find that out ever and honestly, i'd rather not either." he said, he didn't believe that he had the privilege of getting to know whether love was meant for him or not and he was fine with that.

He got up, reaching his hand to check for raindrops, their slow pace grounding him. He was aware of her gaze on him, so he turned around to face her... only to turn back around and shake his head, what was he doing?

He grinned widely, slipping back into his charming self; enough of somberness, he thought.

"This is where I leave you, try not to miss me too much." he said with a wink as he stepped out in the rain. The cool water feeling nice on his warm skin. He continued walking before remembering something and running back,

"Oh, can i know your name?" he asked,

"Y/n," she replied with a soft smile and he started walking again.

Y/n...

"Wait! What's yours?" he heard her call back, smiling, he spinned around.

"Gojo Satoru." he told her,

"Well Y/n, i hope it was a pleasure for you to meet me." he called out, walking away.

Y/n... the name was familiar, he had definitely heard it somehwere before but couldn't place a finger on it.

Through his six eyes, he could see her watch him and that made him more happy than it should have... unknowingly hoping to see her again, somewhere, anywhere... where you two could talk just a little bit longer and he could get to know you...

but for now, he was content and the soft rain began feeling nice again.

taglist 🏷️: @quirrrky (send an ask to be added <3)

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

129 for Switcheroo!

---

Eddie gapes at him.

“You retired?” He asks. 

“Yes,” Ramon replies.

“Willingly?”

“Yes, Edmundo. Willingly.”

Eddie huffs out a heavy breath.

“Well,” he says after a moment. “I’m sure you must be going crazy.”

“It just happened. Two weeks ago,” his father explains. “And now I’m here.”

Now he’s here. He almost died. Eddie almost died. The world almost ended, and Ramon Diaz decided, hey, time to retire and try to fix things with his son. Eddie doesn’t know what to think. Part of him is moved, honestly. The part that always sought his father’s approval. That tried so hard to be the boy he wanted him to be. That then, spurned, tried to be anything but that man. That lost little kid in him wants to take this at face value. The father in him? Less happy. The son says, finally. The father says, how could you ever have waited this long? 

“Please, son,” Ramon replies when Eddie is silent for too long. “All I’m looking for is a chance not to miss any more of your life. Or my grandson’s.”

This last comment lights a fire in Eddie. 

“But you would have never known Christopher at all,” Eddie accuses. “If I hadn’t run into my son, a total stranger, in a grocery store, none of us would have ever known him. And that was a choice.” 

“I know, I don’t deserve-”

“Do you?” Eddie cuts him off. “Do you have any idea? Because you missed most of your own kids’ lives, so I can see why it wouldn’t seem like a big deal.”

Ramon flinches. But he takes a steeling breath and looks Eddie in the eye. 

“I… I have an excuse for one, but not the other.”

Eddie tightens his jaw and waits. Fine. He’ll listen. But he’s not going to pretend he’s happy about it.

Another deep breath from Ramon. 

“For Christopher… It’s going to sound like a lie, but really, I didn’t have the same information.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks. 

“I… I didn’t… I supported your mother, you know? That’s what you do when you’re married.” 

Eddie tightens his mouth. He doesn’t need a lecture on duty. 

“But I was away on business, she got the call from Shannon. When she heard about the baby. By the time she got back, all I heard was that Shannon girl got pregnant. Moved on from Eddie fast. I didn’t question it.”

Eddie can actually believe this, which  is the problem. It might be easier to know how to feel about it if he thought his dad was lying. He could just stay angry. It’s easier to just stay angry. 

“Okay,” Eddie replies cautiously. “I can see that.” 

“I should have behaved much differently when I found out the truth,” Ramon continues. “I shouldn’t have backed her up. I love your mother, but she was wrong in what she did. I know that. I’m sorry.”

Eddie swallows. The admission has more impact than he would have thought. 

“Thank you,” Eddie says. “I appreciate you saying that.”

If he expects Eddie to apologize in return, for sending them away, for preventing them access to Chris, he won’t, though. He was right to do that. He knows that. 

“I don’t have an excuse for not being there for you growing up,” Ramon says. “Or for the way I reacted when you came out to us. All I can say is that I felt… I felt like there was a certain way to do things right, and was very scared of veering off course. I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s throat feels very tight. He doesn’t really know how to reply. He knows the compulsion his father is talking about. Knows what it feels like to walk away from it. He knows it’s something he inherited. Did it just take Ramon decades longer to turn his back on it? Or is this all a charade? 

“Thank you,” Eddie says again, voice hoarse.

“If there is anything I can do to make it better between us, please tell me, Eddie,” Ramon practically begs. “I’m just looking for a chance.”

Eddie takes a deep breath. “Um… I want… I want to give you a chance, I think. I just… Honestly, Dad, I don’t know how. I don’t know how to trust you.”

Ramon’s eyes flicker down to the table. He nods shallowly.

“I suppose that’s fair.”

The thing is, though… Eddie doesn’t want to be angry. He’d love for this not to be a gaping wound in him. He’s never wanted to hate them. He has always loved them, and found himself missing being loved in return. He doesn’t want to set refusal to forgive as an example to his son, in case god forbid he ever fucks up so badly it’s a question. Not that he would ever fuck up quite like his parents have. Never. 

Eddie would like time and space to process this a bit better than he can right now. But that’s not the scenario he’s presented with. His father has come to apologize and ask if there’s any chance to move forward. Without his mother. Something Eddie wouldn’t have, in a million years, anticipated. So… So, it’s an opportunity. One to accept cautiously. One to measure the benefits and the risks of analytically, rather than from a place of anger. He can do that. 

“I’m open to figuring it out,” Eddie says finally. 

Ramon looks back up at him, hopeful. 

“You are?”

Eddie nods. “It’s… It’ll take me time.”

Ramon sighs, relieved. “Thank you, Eddie. I understand.”

[careless-with-your-heart]

Distracting myself from fic trauma by brainstorming a one-shot that takes places the same night as the piano chapter when Kitty and Blaine go back to the mansion. 🤪🔥🧤

[soyochii]

Quick doodles before I evaporate.

[lilybug-02]

Eimmet High...temmiE high. OMG!

Part 28 || First || Previous || Next...(Hiatus)

--Full Series--

Next update may take...much longer! I have finals and an internship and not to mention I have to draw- A LOT :')

[fear-no-mort]

favourite thing: his new habit of saying uhuh/mhm and also this