#after you open it it has to be refrigerated anyway

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 4

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Currently thinking this will have like 5-7 parts?

The sheets didn't smell like Max anymore. Colette had changed them over a week ago.

She ran her hand over the empty space next to her, the sheets cool to the touch. Empty. Alone. 

Colette wished Max was there. That she could simply turn around and he would be there. But he wasn't. 

Bébé took that moment to kick her bladder and she sighed as she pushed herself to sit up. 

The sun was lower on the sky an she knew that she must have napped at least a few hours. "Bathroom and then we can see what we'll have for dinner," she suggested to the baby.

She got an answering kick in response that made her snort. 

After taking care of her business, she made her way to the kitchen, feeling a rumbling in her stomach.

To her surprise, Colette wasn’t alone in their apartment. "You do know that I am adult, right?" she asked her mother and her oldest brother drily as waddled into the kitchen. Arthur was nowhere to be seen, probably busy with his actual job. "I can be left alone. Chances are I'll just go back to watching reruns of Real Housewives this evening," she said drily.

Neither of them laughed at this. She looked up from opening the fridge to see their...very serious expression. Colette paused, a cold feeling of dread worming its way into her stomach. Something was wrong, she could tell by their expressions. "What?" she asked, closing the refrigerator door.

Was something wrong with Max? With Cha?

She had never outright believed in the whole idea of twin telepathy or anything like that...but Charles and her had this...thing. If something was really wrong with each other...they could feel it.

And she couldn’t feel anything…not like that, not right now.  

"Did...did something happen to Max?" Colette asked shakily, almost afraid of the answer. Her mind instantly went to the worst-case scenario. "Is he...okay?"

Her mother and brother traded a glance, which did nothing to calm her nerves. "Max is fine," her mother promised her. "Why don't you sit down, Choupinette?" This also wasn't calming her.

"Enzo?" Colette asked, her voice shaky.

"Nobody is hurt or dying," Lorenzo promised her quickly. "It's...complicated."

Colette nodded, lowering herself into a seat at the kitchen island. Her heart was still racing, palms a bit sweaty.

"Complicated how?" she asked, her voice a bit hoarse.

"I would like to preface this by saying that Arthur didn't...think this through," Lorenzo said with a grimace.

Colette's eyes widened in disbelief. "Arthur...what did he do?" she asked immediately. 

"He may have posted that post you made on your stories in his," Lorenzo said carefully.

Colette's jaw dropped open in shock. "He...he WHAT?!" she nearly shrieked, hands gripping the edge of the table.

What? How could her brother do this? How could he...

That ill-thought out post she had made...with a Taylor Swift lyric that she had thought was cute...to her less than 200 followers that all knew about her and Max anyway…

What? How could her brother do this? How could he...

Colette's hands were shaking now as she tried to process what her brother had done. "Are you serious?" she finally managed to whisper.

And now it was  out there. For EVERYBODY TO SEE. Everybody. Everybody could see her post about Max. Everybody could see her saying that Max came straight home to her.

They had spent 15 years keeping their relationship a secret. And now...now there they were.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to calm the panic that was welling up inside of her. "Oh god...oh god," she muttered, her mind racing.

"People are going to see that. Max's fans are going to see that," she whispered, her stomach clenching. "Oh god, they're going to see it and figure things out."

Her mother reached out, placing a calming hand on her arm. "It's okay, Choupinette," she said gently. "It's going to be okay."

Colette shook her head. "No, it's not," she said, her voice shaky. "How could Arthur do this? He knows...he knows that I didn't want anybody to know," she whispered, tears biting in her eyes. She wasn't even sure what to do. She wasn't even sure what to think.

Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Fear, worry, frustration...and anger. So much anger at her brother, for not thinking, for not asking first, for not considering the consequences.

"How could he just... do this?" she said again, her voice cracking.

Lorenzo tried to come closer, but she held up a hand to stop him. She didn't want his touch, not right now. "Arthur should have asked me before doing something like this," she said, her voice shaking. "He knows...he knows that Max and I...we keep our relationship private."

"I...I need some space right now," she choked out, pushing her chair back and standing up. She had to get out of here, get some air.

She left the kitchen, leaving her family behind.

She found herself in the living room, collapsing onto the couch, her hands covering her face as tears streamed down her cheeks.

She couldn't believe what her brother had done. 

And now...now it was out there. Their secret, Max's secret, their life...everything.

She tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm down, but she couldn't. She was angry, hurt, scared…

Their relationship...it had always been a safe space to Colette. 

Somewhere where she could just be herself. With Max, she felt loved and safe and quite frankly, spoiled rotten by his attention. She didn't need to think about what she said, she could just be comfortable. And nobody had an inside look into that relationship that she didn't want to. They had admitted it to people over the years, to friends and colleagues and family members. But to the public they had never been connected beyond Colette being the twin sister of one of Max's biggest rivals. 

She had liked her anonymity. Had liked that nobody paid her a second look on the street. That nobody even thought twice about her.

Her role could just be Charles and Arthur's supportive sister. Nothing more, nothing less. Max knew that she loved him, that she supported him in the privacy of their relationship. It wasn't something she needed anybody else to know.

But now it was out there.

Colette buried her head in her hands, letting out a soft sob. It was out there, and it couldn't be taken back. No amount of damage control, no amount of apology was going to take those words back.

She could already see the headlines in her head: “Max Verstappen’s secret girlfriend”

It was so much worse than she had expected. The idea of being exposed like this...it made her want to crawl under a rock and hide for the rest of her life.

Colette didn't want to deal with the media circus, the gossip, the speculation. She didn't want to deal with any of it.

She didn't want her life to be dissected. She didn't want everything to be picked apart.

But that's what was going to happen. The vultures were going to descend, the media was going to hound her, her inbox would be filled with requests for comment and statements.

She was going to be the topic of everyone's conversation, speculation, and judgment.

She wanted to cry, scream, and throw something simultaneously.

She didn't ask for this, she wasn't built for this.

She wanted her anonymity, her simple life, her relationship to be private. That's all she had ever wanted...was that too much to ask for?

But now it was all in jeopardy, because her brother wasn't able to keep his mouth shut. She knew that he hadn't done it to hurt her...he had just been a idiot without a brain. But that didn't make the situation any easier for her.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to gather her thoughts.

But now it was gone. The secret was out, and there was no turning back. She was going to be under the microscope, every move she made, every word she spoke, every expression on her face would be analyzed and scrutinized.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

Colette leaned back against the couch, feeling the weight of the situation crashing down on her. 

She had always known that Max's life would come with a certain amount of spotlight and media attention, but she had never expected to be dragged into it.

She had always been in the shadows, quietly supporting him from behind the scenes, but now she was being thrust into the bright light of the media spotlight. And she couldn't help but cry her eyes out about it.

She let the tears flow, feeling the sobs rack her body. It was too much, all too much. She was exposed, vulnerable, and raw. And she had no idea how to handle it.

"Choupinette," her mother said softly, sitting down besides her.

Colette barely registered her mother's presence, too consumed by her own despair. But she felt her mother's hand on her shoulder, gentle and comforting.

She buried her face in her mother's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.

Her mother just held her, stroking her hair and whispering soothing words of comfort. "It's going to be okay," she promised. "I promise, it's going to be okay."

"Maybe it won't even be so bad," her mother tried to comfort her. "It will blow over. You do love Max and he loves you."

"It was going to get out sometime," Lorenzo said quietly. "It was question of when not if, Colette. It was a miracle that you were able to keep it quiet for so long."

This only made Colette cry harder.

She hadn't wanted anybody to know. She had wanted privacy. She had wanted…

She had wanted it to just be her and Max, living their life together, without any outside interference.

She knew it was foolish to think that it could last forever, but a small part of her had hoped.

Now it was going to be ruined. And it was all because of her stupid brother and his impulsive behavior.

She didn't want the attention. She didn't want the speculation, the questions, the accusations.

All she wanted was Max.

She wanted him, his warmth, his soft reassurances, his quiet love. She wanted him with her and just to curl up in his arms. Where she could forget everything else and just be.

But she couldn't do that. The truth was out there now, and there was no way to erase it.

She was Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, the public knew, and there was nowhere she could hide from it.

And that thought terrified her more than anything else. She didn't know how to handle the public eye, the media interest, the gossip. It was like a massive wave that was about to crush her, and she had no life raft to hold onto.

She leaned closer into her mother, feeling like a child again. The sobs continued to rack her body, and all she could do was hold onto her mother's comforting embrace.

She didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to handle this.

***

This was the last fucking news Max wanted to hear before qualifying. The absolute last.

He loved the Leclercs. He did. He loved Colette’s family like his own. And he loved her brothers like his own. 

But this was making him absolutely furious with Arthur. 

And he would have liked to destroy his driver’s room in a fit of rage, but he wasn’t going to do that. He was not going to let his emotions get the best of him. 

Not when he understood where Arthur was coming from. Even when he hated the way he had gone about it. 

Max had half a mind to simply throw the towel. To give up. What did it matter anymore? He had won his 4th World Championship title…Red Bull wasn’t in the running for the constructor’s championship anymore…that was between Ferrari and McLaren… so did it matter? 

Wouldn’t he be more useful at Colette’s side? 

But he knew that if he asked her…he knew what her answer would be. 

She wouldn’t stand for it. 

She knew that he wouldn’t forgive himself for this. He wanted to win. It was in his DNA. It wasn’t in him to leave things unfinished. 

She would tell him to do it. To finish that race. And then to come straight home to her. 

But it was hard, especially when he knew that the media was going to be all over this. The vultures were going to be circling, waiting for any slip up, any moment of weakness. 

It wasn't like he cared if his and Colette's relationship became public. He was content with screaming it from every rooftop. He would happily post his beautiful girlfriend on his Instagram daily. He was more than willing to take her to some charity gala and kiss her in the view of every camera that was there...but he knew how important it had always been for Colette.

And now she was exposed, without warning and without even knowing. 

Max wanted to find her brother and wring his neck for this. How could he be so careless, so thoughtless?

He knew how important Colette's privacy was to her, how much she valued it. And now it was gone. Just like that.

Colette wanted to keep a low profile. She was more than happy to be the always supportive sister to her brothers, to cheer them on from the sidelines...and she herself was happy to work in her mother's hair salon, and dabble at playing the piano and violin…and content to simply be.

He had always loved that about her…how happy she could be with the most simple of things. 

Colette didn’t enjoy the spotlight, she preferred the shadows. And now she had been thrown into the whirlwind of media attention.

He knew that she wasn’t going to handle this well. 

And he was seriously considering throwing the towel. 

To say fuck it all and go back to Monaco. 

His father didn’t want to hear a single thing about it.

Jos had never really approved of Max's relationship with Colette. He thought it made him weak, he thought Max needed to focus on racing, not on some girl… but Max had been stubborn.

Colette was everything to him. Colette’s place in his life was not something they were going to argue about it. It was set in stone. 

 And so, through the years his father had realised that Colette was there to stay. 

And he may even had started to respect her place in Max’s life, realised that her presence calmed him and focused him in a way nothing else did…Realised that Colette was good for Max. 

And even for his relationship with his father. 

Nowadays…they got along better than they ever had and quite frankly they had Colette to thank for that. She had softened his father with her calm, gentle and yet incredibly stubborn nature, unwilling to take any of his bullshit and willing to call him out on it, constantly.

Still, Max wanted to get to Colette. He wanted to hold her, to reassure her that everything was going to be okay eventually. He wanted to place a hand on her swollen belly and feel bébé rumble underneath her skin…wanted to see that everything was alright with her and their baby. 

“You have a job to do,” his father said drily. “Colette isn’t alone. She has her family with her.”

Max didn't answer, just clenched his jaw.

He knew his father was right, he had a job to do, a race to focus on. But the thought of leaving Colette to deal with that by herself…it didn't sit well with him.

“She’s pregnant,” he hissed. “You want me to care about a race while my pregnant girlfriend is an ocean away, distraught, because our relationship just became public knowledge?!” Max asked sharply.

His father scowled.

“She has her brothers and her mother with her,” he repeated sternly. “I’m sure they can calm her down and make sure she’s taken care of in your absence. But the team needs you to focus on the race. Besides…It ha​​s been a long time coming…”

He knew he had a job to do. He had a race to focus on, a team that was depending on him to be at the top of his game. It was his job to win, no matter what was going on at home.

“Fine,” he gritted out, turning around to leave the room. “I’ll focus on the damn race.”

He took a deep breath, trying to push all thoughts of Colette out of his mind. He needed to focus. He needed to push aside his emotions and put his game face on.

He was a professional and he had a job to do.

He could deal with driving.  He could deal with managing a respectable 5th place on the grid in Qualifying…he couldn’t deal with the press afterwards.

He was surrounded by reporters, camera flashes and microphones. They were all firing question after question at him, shoving the microphones closer and closer to his face.

"Max, is it true that you and Colette Leclerc are in a relationship?"

Max clenched his jaw, trying to keep a neutral expression on his face. He didn’t want to give them any ammunition, anything they could use to try and dig deeper into his personal life. But he knew he couldn’t ignore the question either.

“I don’t see how my relationship status is relevant to the race,” he snapped back. “I’m here to talk about the race, not my personal life.”

They happily ignored that: “What’s Charles’ reaction to your relationship?”

Max clenched his jaw again, the anger starting to boil over. He hated this, the way they felt like they had the right to just poke and prod at his life like it was some kind of spectacle for them to enjoy.

“I’m not discussing my personal life,” he repeated through gritted teeth. “I’m here to talk about the race.”

But the reporters weren’t interested in the race. They were only interested in the juicy gossip of Max Verstappen dating Colette Leclerc.

More microphones were shoved in his face, more questions were asked, each one more invasive than the last.

“How serious is your relationship with Colette?”

“Are you engaged?”

“What did you think about what she posted on Instagram?“

“I think that Colette’s Instagram account is private for a reason,” he said tightly.

The reporters fell silent for a moment, surprised by the harsh tone. Max knew he was skating on thin ice, but he didn’t care. He was angry, frustrated and upset. He wanted nothing more than to find a quiet corner to just brood and worry about Colette in peace.

“I think that George overreacted about something that was posted on a private Instagram profile that has less than 200 followers. ” Max bit out. “There is a difference between posting something for your friends and family to see and complaining about this to the press when George knew it would be put all over the media.”

The reporters were stunned into silence at his outburst.

Max knew he had crossed a line. He knew he shouldn’t be snapping at them like that, but he couldn’t help it. He was so frustrated and upset, and he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He knew he had to reel it in before he said something he would regret even more. “I have already lost all respect for George Russell before, but he has crossed a line when he dragged this into the public sphere,” he said flatly.

The reporters' eyes widened, surprised by the ferocity of his words.

Max knew he was being harsh, but he didn’t care. He was furious, enraged. How dare Russell expose their private life like that? 

Max took another deep breath, trying to calm himself. But it was hard. The anger was like a living thing inside him, seething and burning. He wanted to storm over to the Mercedes garage and punch Russell in the face, to wipe that smirk off his face for good. But he knew he couldn’t. 

So he stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to keep the anger at bay. Trying to ignore the way the reporters were looking at him with greedy, excited eyes.

He knew they wanted him to explode, to lash out. They wanted him to go off the rails and say something even more incriminating. Something they could use to make more headlines. But Max couldn’t give them that. He couldn’t let them get a rise out of him. So he stood there, trying his best to remain calm and collected.

But it was hard. So goddamn hard.

He could feel the tension in his body, feel the anger and frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. He wanted to do something, to take action and make the situation right. But he didn’t know what he could do, how he could make it right.

He didn’t know how he could fix the mess that had been made, how he could turn back time and undo the damage that had been done.

"Do you have any questions about the race tomorrow? Because otherwise I am done," he asked.

The reporters stood there for a moment, frozen in shock. Then, a few of them started to ask questions about the upcoming race, but Max could tell that their hearts weren’t in it. They were too distracted by his outburst, too eager to keep prodding at the sensitive issue of his relationship with Colette.

The reporters looked at each other for a moment, unsure whether to press him further or not. Max could see the wheels turning in their heads, could see them trying to decide whether they would press the issue or let it go.

Eventually, the more sensible reporters began to ask questions about the race, steering the conversation away from the minefield of his personal life.

[thegeminisage]

this morning's no cold groceries breakfast: instant potatoes and microwave bacon. and more sweet tea

[yunhoszn]

horses are still overrated

pairing jeong yunho x f!reader word count 2k genres fluff﹒smut warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, established relationship, mentions of voyeurism, dirty talk, marking-ish, mutual masturbation, kissing, slight cum eating shhhhh don’t say anything, pet names: baby, babe, princess

summary new relationships always have room for experimenting, and well, you and yunho are no exception.

more ok so i tried doing these in ask format but i didn’t like it so we’re back to our regularly scheduled programming with a little update :P anyway,, this was for this request! it’s meant to be an extension of save a horse, ride a cowboy but can totally be read as a standalone! i kinda strayed from the initial req, but i hope this is still good… it’s still yunho day so <3 ALSO @bro-atz thank u for betaing my love i appreciate u so big!! pls reblog if u enjoyed!

@atzhouse

The few weeks that have passed since you and Yunho have confessed to each other have been nothing short of blissful. 

He makes you feel like you’re soaring, ensuring that your happiness is the top priority. He embraces you in a way that’s not only physical, but emotional too. Like his feelings for you are their own special hug of warmth that envelopes you when you need it most. You could never get tired of him, could never return to your life back home like this summer never happened. 

Because in all honesty, this summer was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to you. 

You have a small smile on your face as you reminisce about the wonderful time you’ve spent here so far, leaning back into the bench on the farmhouse porch. Initially, you were sitting here to openly gawk after Yunho as he rounded up the cattle, but now you were too giddy to pay attention to that. You don’t notice him walking towards you directly, Yeoreum tailing behind him. 

“What’s got you so cheesy today?” 

You blink at his question, feeling a bit bashful. You’ll never get used to this view. “I was just thinking about us, and how happy you make me.”

“That’s cute,” he mirrors your expression, one hand on the back of the bench to hold his weight and the other coming up to cup your jaw, lips pecking yours gently. “Ready for dinner?”

“I have a confession to make,” you start as you’re washing the dishes after dinner. 

“What’s up?” Yunho asks you from the other side of the kitchen, putting away the leftovers. He shuts the refrigerator and leans against it, arms crossed over his chest. You swallow thickly. 

“I’ve just had this on my chest for so long and I need to get it off before I explode,” you ramble, avoiding his eyes as you scrub a plate. “Promise you won’t judge?”

“I promise,” he chuckles, and you can hear his footsteps as he gets closer. “I won’t judge you.”

Your sigh comes out as more of a shudder, Yunho’s arms wrapping around your middle and his chin resting on your shoulder. The new proximity makes you ten times more nervous to say your piece, your heart beating erratically behind your rib cage. This is fine. This is great actually. (No it’s not!)

“Do— um— do you remember the day before Seojun and I broke up?” Your hands are trembling slightly. 

“When you gave Yeoreum a bath, right?” He nods, the movement bothering you slightly because it has his chin digging into your shoulder uncomfortably. “What about it?”

”So…” You have to pause the dishes, your hands clamming up so much that you think the handle of your sponge will fly out of your grasp. “That night, when my lightbulb went out, I actually went out to go grab you. But— uh— I saw something… else… instead…”

Your eyes squeeze shut, entirely too mortified to even think about what his reaction could be. It’s been a minute since the ordeal played out, so really you didn’t have to say anything. Part of you felt like you couldn’t continue this relationship in good conscience without being totally honest, though. 

Strong hands wrap gently around your wrists, turning you around to face him. He tsks, “Open your eyes, princess.”

His eyes are soft, no hint of disappointment or disgust on his features as he stares back at you. His lips curl into a smug smile after a couple seconds, cupping your jaw and caressing your cheek with his thumb. You blink at him, a little confused by the shift in atmosphere, but not complaining. 

“You’re not—?” 

“You watched me fuck my fist, is that right?” Yunho asks so bluntly, so vulgarly. “Tell me, what did you do after that?”

It’s easy to divert your gaze again, focusing on how interesting the material of his button up suddenly is. It’s one thing to admit that you stood there and watched for a bit, it’s another to admit you stuffed yourself with your own fingers not even fifteen minutes later. But you think he already knows that, based on your behavior and some good ol’ context clues. 

“I… I touched myself,” you whimper, ashamed of how you’re getting turned on. The worst part is the fact that he’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying the way he has you folding for him so quickly. “To the thought of you…”

Yunho’s grip on your chin tightens and his eyes flutter shut with a groan. “Fuck, baby, that’s so hot…”

You weren’t sure how this would go, and a piece of you genuinely thought he might even end things with you. Any other person would think you were sick and perverted, but not him. It makes you feel a lot better and a lot more secure in your relationship. 

Your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth, grazing the pad of his thumb. He hisses, cursing under his breath, letting you wrap your lips around and suck the finger. Yunho stares with not a single coherent thought behind his eyes. He’s losing his composure, pressing his thumb down on your tongue. 

“Do you think you can tell me? How exactly did you touch yourself?” He purses his lips, his free hand slipping into the opening of your overalls, dragging his finger along the exposed skin of your waist. You shake your head with a whine.

”Yun… That’s embarrassing…” 

He pulls his hand out of your overalls, hooking the digit into your belt loop and yanking you closer. His mouth is dangerously near your own, lips brushing yours when he speaks. “I wanna know. Need to picture my pretty princess fucking herself desperately ‘cause her fingers aren’t enough to get her off.”

Your legs feel like jelly, your cunt clenching around nothing just by his words alone. Yunho had always done such a good job at being the sweet and doting partner everyone wanted. He was attentive, praised you like you were a living, breathing goddess. But this dirty side of him is different. And you like it a lot more than you should.

“O-Okay…” You swallow thickly, and suddenly he’s spinning you so his chest is to your back. He urges you towards the bedroom, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking the supple skin gently, tenderly.

”Go on,” he says between kisses, still pushing you until you’re standing in the middle of his room. Your eyes already feel heavy and you haven’t done anything yet. “Tell me.”

”I— um— I thought about your hands and how big they are,” your tone is shaky, and you hope you don’t sound stupid. “Thought about how good it would feel to have them all over me. I pictured that it was your fingers inside of me. Imagined your cock, and how big it is.”

“Is that so? I’m just not getting the visual, babe. I think I need you to show me.” He hums, a hint of amusement in his voice. As if this couldn’t get more embarrassing, now he wants you to finger yourself in front of him? You’re about to protest, but he’s pressing your lower back to the mattress and talking against the corner of your mouth again, teasing you because he knows he can. “If you’re good for me, I’ll fuck you so well, you won’t be able to forget the shape of my cock.”

You nod with a whimper, hopping onto the bed and scooting all the way up to the pillows. Your hands are wobbly as you undress yourself, unbuckling your overalls and kicking them off your feet. Of course you chose the worst day to dress the part. Yunho sits at the edge, watching you with an unreadable expression. 

When you’re in nothing but your top and panties, he clears his throat, leaning back onto his palms. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Move your underwear to the side for me, princess. Let me see your pretty pussy.”

It’s almost impossible to hold back a moan, following his instructions. You glide your middle finger through your folds, showcasing how you’re practically dripping for him in the amount of time it’s taken you to get from the kitchen to here. He exhales through his nose, legs spreading to give you a glimpse of an uncomfortable looking bulge in his pants. 

You sigh deeply at the sight, circling your finger around your clit slowly. The thought of being the cause behind it, of getting Yunho so hot and bothered, drives you crazy and has you curling your toes. 

“Just like that,” he encourages, tossing his denim button up to the floor. He palms over his erection, tilting his head slightly. “Can you do some more for me?”

“Mhm,” is all you can manage to force out, doing what he asked. You shove your ring and middle fingers inside of yourself, finally releasing a moan at the intrusion. You keep pressure on your clit with the heel of your palm. There’s silence between you save for the occasional whine.

Yunho shivers, shimmying out of his pants so he can stroke himself freely. You gawk at him with bated breath, biting your lip as your fingers pick up their pace. There’s a knot that settles in the pit of your stomach, tightening and tightening in preparation for that special moment. 

The view of him spread out in front of you, fucking up into his hand with hooded eyes trained on your own playing with your cunt, is too much. He’s wearing that same godforsaken white tank top as he was the night you saw him, the muscles in his forearm and bicep flexing with each twist of his wrist, each pump of his cock. 

You feel like you’re drooling, ogling at him like he was a piece of meat. But you couldn’t help it. Yunho was the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on. The longer you stare, the further you fall. That’s a conclusion you’ve come to a little too late. 

“‘M close, Yun,” you moan, arching your back off of the pillows, head almost clunking against the headboard. “Wanna cum with you.”

“I’m almost there, too, baby,” he grunts, teeth gritted as he runs his thumb over his slit. That has a loud whine spilling from your lips, your feet digging into the mattress. You don’t know how much longer you can last. 

Your fingers try to reach that spongy, sensitive spot deep in your cunt, but you can’t. It seems that only Yunho’s long, thick fingers could accomplish that feat. No wonder you were so obsessed with his hands.

You opt for using the fingers of your free hand to swipe quickly at your clit while the others curl and thrust into you, inching you toward that steep cliff that has stars decorating your vision. Judging by the volume of his sounds getting higher and higher, you can tell Yunho’s right there with you. 

One particular absentminded curse from him has your brain short circuiting, that promise of release washing over you almost violently. Your body aches and quivers, orgasming harder than you ever had just with your own hand. (You’d like to think the presence of a certain cowboy had everything to do with it.)

He groans and follows behind shortly after, painting his hand in milky white. The two of you try to catch your breaths, laying there for a couple moments to recuperate. After a while, Yunho leans over to kiss you gently, squeezing your cheeks with his cum covered hand. You scrunch your nose. 

“You’re getting it on my face!”

“That was the goal,” he laughs, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips. You roll your eyes, licking away whatever was near your mouth. He groans again. “Fuck, are you trying to kill me? Purposely?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. “I remember being told you’d fuck me if I did good for you. Where’s my reward?”

“Trust me, I didn’t forget.”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[moonstruckme]

Hey girl. I saw you were asking for whimsical!reader. The one that you did with James was so cute!!! Could we get another part to that? Also you’re one of my fave authors on here.❤️❤️

Hey babe, so honored! There are so many amazing writers on here, so I really appreciate you taking the time to read my stories :) Thanks for requesting love!

cw: hurt (not direly) animal

James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 846 words

“Jamie, do we have any seeds?” James hears you enter through the front door. He turns down the TV to hear you better. 

“Seeds?” he asks. “Like, for gardening? I don’t think so, love.” 

“No, like sunflower seeds.” Your voice fades as you move into the kitchen, cupboard doors opening and closing. “Or actually, kale would do. Can I use some of your kale, please?” 

“What?” He gets up to go to you. “What are you making?” 

James finds you standing in front of the refrigerator, trying to tear open his container of kale with one hand and cradling an alarmingly complaisant-looking bird in the other. 

“Sweetheart,” James says slowly. You tilt your head at him. “Is that a baby bird?” 

“Of course not.” You smile guilelessly, eyelashes kissing at the corners. “Don’t be silly, I know better than to take a baby bird away from its nest. This is a bullfinch. It’s an adult, they’re just small.” 

He nods. “And why’ve you brought it inside, lovie?” 

“Because something’s wrong with it,” you say softly, as if wary of the bird overhearing. “It flew into Mrs. Hutchinson’s window—you know, the older woman down the way? Anyway, it’s alive, but I think it’s in shock or something. See how it’s letting me hold it in my hand?” 

James says that he does. 

“It shouldn’t be doing that,” you finish somberly.

You’re telling him. 

“But I’m fairly sure you’re not supposed to touch wild birds,” he worries, fighting vigorously against the urge to take the thing from your hand. “They carry diseases, don’t they?” 

“I’ll wash my hands.” You finally get the kale open, taking out a few leaves and holding them in front of the bird. “I couldn’t just leave it, Jamie. Mrs. Hutchinson has a cat. What if it had found it all frightened like this?” 

James takes a breath and forces himself to remember that these are the things he loves about you. Though he does prefer when your kinder traits don’t come at the risk of avian disease. 

“It’s not eating,” you fret, watching as the poor thing’s reddish belly pumps with quick, tiny breaths. “Do you think we should give it some water too?” 

“Can’t hurt,” James agrees, grabbing a small dish and filling it from the tap. “Why don’t you bring our little friend outside? We can put this stuff on the ground and see if it’ll eat then.” 

He doesn’t add that despite its equanimous facade, the bird is probably scared shitless sitting in your hand like that. You take to his suggestion happily, leading the way out to James’ small porch. You set the bird down gingerly. James does his best to match your carefulness, placing the little dish of water and a few pieces of kale in front of it. 

“Come on, lovely,” you coo, voice extra soft and sweet for the small creature. 

James’ chest aches at the sound of it. If this bird dies, he’s going to have to arrange a whole funeral for your sake. 

“Let’s give it some space,” he says gently, wrapping his fingers around your waist to encourage you back towards the door. “It might be too scared to eat with us around.” 

You press your lips together as you nod. James nuzzles your hair compassionately. The pair of you sit on his doorstep in silence, you gnawing your lip raw and him reminding himself repeatedly not to hold your hand. After what feels like hours, the bird moves. 

Its head twitches towards where you sit, and then, without even touching the meal you’d set out for it, it flies off. 

Ungrateful prick, James thinks. 

The sigh that leaves you is so loud that he starts to panic before he sees the relief on your face. 

“It’s okay,” you say, not quite teary but looking dangerously close. 

“It is,” James affirms. He’s unable to keep from smiling, you look so adorably thrilled. “It may not have had much appetite, but you saved it, angel.” 

“Did you see the way it looked at us?” You’re awed, looking up at him with huge eyes. “It knew. It could tell we were the ones that helped it.” 

James isn’t sure he can get fully on board with that theory, but he’s not going to burst your bubble. 

“I’m sure it did,” he says, standing and taking your wrists in his hands. You get up too, and James holds your hands out away from you, shouldering open the door to go back inside. 

You follow him gamely. “What are we doing?” 

He leads you over to the sink, forcing you to keep your hands in front of you like a surgeon’s the entire way. “Washing your hands,” he replies. “Don’t need you falling ill from some rare bird disease.”

“I don’t think our friend would have given me any diseases,” you say, though you don’t resist when he holds your hands under the hot water, pumping soap into them. “It liked me, I think.” 

“Oh, I have no doubt it did, sweetheart. But just to be sure.” 

[munson-blurbs]

The Boy is Mine (Bug's Version)

Part of @carolmunson's writing challenge! Thank you for spreading some love and joy in this community, and I hope this fic makes you smile.

Summary: A cozy night in with your sweet boyfriend who is a nuisance in the best way.

Warnings: allusions to smut, allusion to spitting, lewd jokes, basically just fluffy fluffness

WC: 1k

--

Poke.

Poke poke.

Poke poke poke.

Poke poke poke poke poke poke poke poke poke–

“If you don’t stop,” you hiss without looking up from your chemistry notes, “we’re gonna have a problem.” 

Eddie pulls his forefinger back from where it’s pressed against your earlobe, his shit-eating grin morphing into a pitiful pout.

“But it’s date night,” he whines, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You promised me we could curl up and watch Monty Python after an hour, and it’s been…” he glances at the digital watch wrapped around his wrist, “...one hour and three minutes.”

“I’m still trying memorize–”

He snaps the small notebook shut and pulls you closer to him, effectively cutting you off. “And you will–after the movie.” Leaning back against the couch, he lines up his finger to once again prod at you. “C’mon, Sweetheart; we never get the place to ourselves on Friday nights.”

He’s right; his uncle has off on Friday nights and usually prefers to spend his free time relaxing at home, but he’s on a fishing trip this weekend with some of his old army buddies. 

“Okay, okay.” Truthfully, you are in dire need of a break; the formulas and lists of molecular compounds have all become meaningless squiggles right before your eyes. Your back hurts from being hunched over the snack table you’re using in lieu of a desk. Whatever ‘studying’ you do now will likely be unproductive, so you might as well snuggle up next to your boyfriend and enjoy a movie. “But only if I can study after. Some of us would prefer not to spend an entire decade in high school.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs. You’re the only person who’s allowed to crack jokes about him being held back–twice–and you milk it for all it’s worth. “Aw, don’t be like that. That’s not even true. It’s only been six years. And I’m gonna graduate this time. So, ha.” He sticks out his tongue, making you giggle in turn. “But, fine. You can go back to your smart person mumbo-jumbo once we finish the movie and have sex.”

The last item on his agenda snags your attention as you swing your legs onto the cushion, its stuffing poking out from beneath its worn fabric. “Excuse me?” You cock a brow in disbelief.

“As compensation for the three minutes you spent neglecting me,” he explains with a shrug. “‘S only fair.”

“Sure. You usually only need three minutes anyway.” You lift your foot to dig it into his side, but he grabs it before you can tickle him, playfully bringing it towards his open mouth as though threatening to bite it. 

To be honest, you wouldn’t put it past him.

“Best three minutes of your goddamn life.” His smirk makes a triumphant reappearance as he stands up and pads over to the kitchen. The refrigerator light illuminates him in a bright glow, a juxtaposing halo on the man wearing a shirt with a cartoon devil plastered on the front. “Wayne took all of the beer with him, but we have Mountain Dew, some orange juice that I think is still good…oh, here it is!” He rummages through the top shelf and pulls out the last can of Diet Coke, the one he’d shoved towards the back so no one drank it before you could.

You shoot him a grateful smile that he returns easily. He plucks two mugs off of the wall, both of them gag gifts he’d given to his uncle, pouring Mountain Dew in one with Ask Me About My Nuts spelled out in bolts and screws and your soda in one with a three-dimensional pair of breasts jutting out from the body.

“I ran out of, like, nice cups,” he says sheepishly, likely referring to any container that didn’t allude to body parts. “Is this okay?”

“Perfect.” 

Eddie sets the drinks down on the snack table, careful not to spill on your notebook. “Okay, pretty girl. C’mere.” He places a throw pillow on his lap and pats it, signaling that it’s time for you to assume the prime cuddling position. 

As soon as you rest your head, his hand finds its home on your upper arm. His thumb, calloused but gentle, makes gentle strokes that have both of your hearts beating slowly and in sync.

“Babe?”

“Hmm?”

You roll over so you can see the stubble that’s starting to prickle along his cheeks, jawline, and under his chin. “You forgot about the movie. And the snacks.”

He groans, using his free palm to rub his nose in frustration. It’s one of the cutest habits he has, and part of you always wonders if he does it just to make you smile. 

“‘M too comfy to move,” he grumbles, peering down at you with a guilty expression. 

“Me, too,” you agree. “But…snacks.”

Eddie chuckles, stretching to grab something from his side of the sofa. “We’ve got this,” he says as he procures a half-eaten can of vanilla frosting. “I swear I just opened it last night. And we can just talk until we fall asleep, like we did when we first started dating.”

The memory floods your body with warmth. Even before the two of you became a couple, when you and Eddie were only friends, you would often stay up on the phone until your consciousness gave way. No conversation topic was off-limits; on one night when he’d been more than a bit tipsy, he’d divulged some of his more…private preferences. 

“So she spit in your mouth?”

“Mhm.”

“And you like that?” 

“Abso-fuckin-lutely, Sweetheart.”

Neither of you know where tonight will take you. Maybe you’ll become a familiar tangle of limbs, trading sloppy kisses and murmured sweet nothings. Maybe the sugar from the frosting will rejuvenate one of you enough to actually put the VHS in the player. Maybe you’ll just soak in each other’s softness, letting comfort envelop you until your eyelids become too heavy to keep up.

Wherever you go, you and Eddie will get there together.

--

[badkitty3000]

One Fateful Day - Part 2

A year after your fateful meeting at the park, Five is now a huge part of you and your daughter's life

This is a sequel to my other fic, One Fateful Day. Be warned, while this has plenty of fluff and cuteness, just like the first one, this contains smut. Enjoy! 😻

Five x Single Mom Reader-insert, 5.8k words, one-shot

Warnings: Now With Smut!

“Five…” you whimpered quietly, biting at your lip and trying desperately to hold back the loud moan that was dying to be let out. Your fingernails dug sharply into the tensed muscles of his back as you felt him smile against your neck.

As a response, both to drive you crazy and to be a jerk, he gave a hard slam of his hips into you, cutting off your too-loud cry with a hungry kiss. When he went back to his methodical, rhythmic thrusts, he pulled back to look down on you.

“I’m not sure which I like more. Hearing you loud and desperate, or watching you try and hold it back,” he whispered between his own heavy breaths.

“Shut up,” you said with a smile before he did the same thing again and your body was shoved back with the force of his pelvis ramming into you. You muffled your cry with his shoulder as he continued the harder, faster pace that you loved.

Afterward, while you were both lying in bed, limbs tangled together and the sheets a mess, Five stroked your hair while you laid your head on his chest. Neither of you said anything until the alarm on your nightstand began to blare, rudely alerting you that your little love nest was not permanent.

“Damn it,” you groaned after slapping the snooze button and curling back into him. “I just want to stay here.”

“I would love that. But you know if she doesn’t get up in time, she’s going to miss the bus.”

You smiled, tracing a circle with your finger onto his chest. “Not if you blink her to the stop. That buys us at least five more minutes.”

Five gave your hair a playful tug. “Sometimes I get the feeling I’m being exploited for my powers just to make your life easier.”

“I am exploiting you, that’s true. But not just for your powers,” you teased, raising your head to give him a long, lingering kiss. “You have many talents that are of use to me.” You moved your hand down over the sheet that was loosely covering his lower half, rubbing lightly between his legs.

“I guess there are worse things.”

After a few more heated kisses, the alarm went off a second time. You groaned again, but started to haul yourself out of bed.

“I’ll wake her up,” Five offered. “You make the coffee.”

“Good idea,” you nodded, putting your underwear back on and pulling a bathrobe around you. “She likes you better in the morning anyway. She’s always a grump with me.”

Five smiled as you slowly padded out of the room on the way to the kitchen. After a year of being together, he never got tired of watching you do even the most ordinary things. Everything you did was beautiful, even when he was annoyed with you, which wasn’t very often. You hadn’t officially started living together yet, although you might as well be. Five was at your house most of the days and nights of the week. It was comfortable and the three of you were a little family.

Cassie adored Five, and the feeling was mutual. She had her own dad that she saw every other weekend, and she loved him, too. But Five was her buddy and the two of them had a special bond. He was also fiercely protective of her, which was adorable.

As Five got dressed and made his way to Cassie’s room, he could smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen and hear you mumbling to yourself. He grinned, knowing you were probably hunched in front of the open refrigerator looking for the coffee creamer and cursing him. You always blamed Five for hiding it on you, but really you were just a zombie that couldn’t think straight in the mornings.

“Five?” you yelled from the kitchen.

“In the door on the second shelf!” he yelled back.

There were a few seconds of silence and then a quiet “Thank you”, before Five heard the coffee spoon clinking against your mug. He laughed to himself and opened the door to Cassie’s room.

“Morning, kiddo, time to get up,” Five said with a clap as he stepped inside.

The six-year-old was snuggled up in her bed, her favorite unicorn stuffed animal tucked under her arm. She didn’t move, so he tried again, a little louder. “Time for school, come on, wake up!”

When she stirred a little, but still didn’t open her eyes, he sighed. “Hey, look! The ice cream truck is outside and they’re giving away free ice cream to everyone named Cassie! But only if you get up right now!”

He saw her eyelids flutter a little and maybe the beginnings of a small smile starting to form. After a couple more seconds of no real movement, it was time to resort to more direct tactics. With a flip of the switch on the wall, the room was immediately flooded in bright white light. Cassie whined and shielded her eyes with her hands, while Five tugged at the bottom of her pink striped comforter, pulling it all the way off the bed and leaving her with no covers.

“Hey!” she cried, sitting up in bed, her eyes narrowing against the light and her hair a ball of snarls on top of her head. “You’re mean!”

“Well, if you woke up when I asked you nicely, I wouldn’t have to be mean,” Five answered matter-of-factly. “Now, come on, time to get up.” As he turned away to leave, Cassie threw her unicorn at Five’s head. When it bounced off of him and landed on the floor, Five staggered like he’d been shot. Dramatically swaying and clutching at his chest, he collapsed to the floor, splayed out, with his eyes closed and tongue hanging out of his mouth.

“I’m dead,” Five rasped out. “Death by unicorn.”

Cassie climbed out of bed and came to stand over his limp body, staring down at him in her Taylor Swift pajamas with her arms crossed over her chest. “Dead people can’t talk.”

Five opened one eye. “Maybe I’m a ghost.”

Cassie nudged him in the ribs with her toe. “Nope. If you were a ghost my foot would go through you. Everyone knows that.”

Five sighed loudly and sat up, peering up at the small girl. “You’re too goddamn smart, you know that?”

She shook her head in a disapproving way that mimicked her mother when she was in trouble. “You’re not supposed to say that word in front of me. I’m preshible.”

“Impressionable?” Five laughed and Cassie nodded. “Tell you what. You don’t tell your mom that I said a bad word, and I’ll blink you to the bus stop this morning.”

Cassie thought for a moment, a finger on her lips. Then she smiled. “Deal!”

“Great,” Five said as he hauled himself off the floor with a groan. “Now get dressed, your mom left your clothes out on the chair over there. When you’re done, bring me your hairbrush for that rat’s nest of yours.”

“You’re a rat’s nest,” she said gleefully, giggling at her clever comeback with a hand over her mouth.

Five laughed, shaking his head. “That doesn’t even make sense, yet I still feel mildly insulted. Good job, kid.”

Later that morning, as you stood on the sidewalk in front of your house, watching while Five grabbed Cassie’s hand and blinked her down the block to the bus stop, you sighed contentedly. You really could not have predicted that this man you met feeding pigeons in the park a year ago would be such a large part of your life. You were head over heels in love with him, and not just because he was good to your daughter. He was kind, and loving, and even if he was able to kill a man without breaking a sweat, you never felt safer than when you were with him.

You smiled to yourself again as you saw the two of them appear out of one of Five’s portals at the bus stop. It was far enough away that you couldn’t see many details or hear their voices, but you knew Cassie was giggling her head off. You also knew the other moms at the stop were green with envy whenever they saw Five. They wanted their own sexy, super-powered man to sweep them off their feet and become a hero to their kids. But he was all yours, and you felt that warm feeling in your chest just thinking about it.

As the bus pulled up and the line of kids started loading up, Five crouched down to Cassie’s height. “Ok, you have your lunch?”

“Yep.”

“Your homework?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Your kazoo?”

She started laughing. “You don’t need a kazoo in school, silly.”

Five furrowed his brow. “You don’t? What kind of school do you go to?”

Cassie giggled again, before throwing her arms around his neck. “Love you, Five,” she said as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek before joining the other kids.

“Love you, too, kid,” he said with a grin as he watched her walk up the stairs.

No matter how many times Five heard her say that, or how many times he felt her little arms wrap around him in a hug, he always felt like his heart was going to explode. Never in a million years would he have thought he’d be standing at a bus stop, waving goodbye to a little brown-haired girl that had stolen his heart, but here he was. Combine that with the fact that he was so completely in love with her mother, and he’d never been happier.

The next week, Five hadn’t stayed over the night before, so when he came over that afternoon, Cassie was already home from school and in her room when he walked in the backdoor.

“Hello, darling,” he said with a smile, wrapping you up in his arms and kissing you. He must have sensed something was off by the way you quickly kissed him in return. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s Cassie. Her dad dropped her off after school and she was crying. He said she got bullied at school today, but of course he didn’t give a shit, the bastard. He just told her to get over it and left to let me deal with it. I tried talking to her, but she just kind of shut down.”

Five immediately tensed up. “Who bullied her? Was it that little shit Emma, because I’ve been watching her and she’s a total bi—”

“No, Five,” you smiled, putting a hand on his arm to calm him. “I don’t think it was her. It doesn’t matter anyway. We just need to talk to Cassie and help her navigate her feelings.”

“Yeah, well, I know my feelings and I’m going to navigate them all over whoever made her cry.”

“I love that you’re protective of her, but we need to handle this the right way. Things are a lot different than they were back when you were a kid.”

“When I was a kid, my father pitted my siblings and I against each other in what was essentially a cage match; not letting us quit until the other either tapped out or were too broken or exhausted to continue.”

“Jesus, Five, that’s awful!”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But I tell you what, we didn’t sit around talking about our feelings all day. If we had a problem with someone, they were going to know about it. Usually with a foot to the face.”

You cringed. “Ok…but how did that help the person that lost? Didn’t that just make them feel worse about themselves?”

The corner of Five’s mouth turned up. “I wouldn’t know.”

You rolled your eyes, but you hugged him close to you, staring up at his face with a small smile. “You can talk tough all you want, mister, but I know you are big giant marshmallow underneath it all.”

“Only when it comes to you two,” he said, leaning down to kiss you softly.

A few more days passed, and Cassie continued to come home angry, or quiet and sulking. You were concerned, but you still hadn’t let Five take any major action. You had tried talking to her teachers at school, and even the principal, but it wasn’t really going anywhere. She also wasn’t giving up any names.

“Let me take her to the park tomorrow? Maybe she’ll talk to me,” Five suggested one night after Cassie was asleep and you were lying in bed together.

You turned on your side, propping yourself up on one elbow. “That’s a good idea. She always likes going there with you.”

“She’s my park buddy.”

You stroked his cheek gently with your hand before giving him a soft kiss. “You’re so good to her. And me.”

“I love you,” he stated simply with a small shrug, as if that accounted for everything.

The next day, Five took Cassie to the park, as he had suggested. She was in a good mood and she held his hand while she skipped along, all while chattering continuously about everything and nothing at all.

“…and then I saw a cool bug on the playground and did you know that killer whales are really called orcas?”

“Is that right?”

Cassie nodded while kicking a rock in front of her. “Yep. And there are dolphins that live in rivers and guess what color they are?”

Five shook his head. “Green?”

“No!” Cassie laughed. “Pink! Pink dolphins! Just like my favorite color!”

“Wow…” Five smiled. “How do you know all this stuff?”

“I read a book at the library about it,” she said with a shrug. She was silent for a few moments. “Five? Do you want to see a pink dolphin?”

“I would love to see a pink dolphin.”

She nodded and he felt her squeeze his hand harder. “I want to see one too, but I want you to come with me. They live in the Amazon. Have you been there before?”

“No. I’ve been to a lot of places, but never the Amazon.”

“Then we should go. You, me, and mommy. Ok?”

Five couldn’t help feeling a sense of pride that she would pick him to see her precious pink dolphin. “Sounds like a plan,” he told her with a squeeze of her hand in return.

When they arrived at their usual bench to feed the birds, Five sat down and handed Cassie the bag of bird seed. The little flock that Five had befriended a while ago was now officially Cassie’s. He just supervised.

She called out to them as she scattered the seed on the ground. “Here, birdies! Come here, guys! Dinner time!”

Five decided to let her have her fun before broaching the subject of the school bully. He didn’t want her to think he had brought her there for solely that reason. This was their special place and he didn’t want to spoil that. So, he watched her for a while in her element; addressing the birds by names and encouraging them to eat.

He had kind of zoned out a little when he was jolted back to reality by Cassie suddenly yelling angrily; stomping her foot at the birds and clenching her hands into tight fists.

“Stop! Stop being mean to them, you stupid blue jay! They weren’t doing anything to you!” She kicked her foot out at the troublesome blue bird, but it flew off before she could make contact with it. Then she picked up a small stone and threw it in the direction of the bird. The rest of the flock flapped away into a nearby tree to wait for the scene to calm down again, but that didn’t stop Cassie from her angry rant. “I hate you! You stupid, stupid bird! If you come back here, I’m going to stomp you!”

Five jumped up and blinked the few feet to Cassie’s side. Kneeling down, he grabbed her shoulders and turned her toward him. Her little face was red with anger as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Cassie, look at me,” he told her, trying to get her to focus on him and not the birds. “We don’t hurt animals. You know that.”

As the little girl collapsed into Five’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder and soaking his shirt with her tears, Five hugged her and patted her back.

“She was being mean to the other birds,” she whimpered between sniffs and hiccups.

“Ok…alright…it’s ok…” Five soothed as he waited for her crying to die down.

When Cassie was able to stop crying, Five stood up and took her hand. He led her back to the bench and sat her next to him. She was still sniffling and trying to catch her breath, and they sat there in silence for a few minutes. Soon, the birds that had been scared away found their way back to their seeds. As they watched the birds eat on the ground, Five turned to Cassie.

“You see how Mr. Tippington is being shoved out of the way?” Five asked.

Cassie nodded. “Yes.”

“Ok, so now watch. After a while, he comes back. What’s he doing now?”

She watched the birds with interest. “He just pecked at that other bird.”

“That’s right. Not hard; he didn’t hurt the other bird. But he was telling them to back off because he has every right to eat just like they do.”

“Ok.”

“And now what happened?”

“The mean bird hopped out of the way and let Mr. Tippington in. He’s eating and they left him alone.” She looked up at Five with wide eyes, wiping at her nose. “They stopped being mean to him.”

Five nodded. “He didn’t let that mean bird win. He wasn’t mean back, but he also wasn’t going to let them push him around. In the adult world, we call that ‘Not Taking Anyone’s Shit’.”

Cassie giggled and reached out a hand to cover Five’s mouth. He tried not to think about how she had just wiped boogers off her face with that same hand, and let her keep it there. “You said a bad word again.”

Five smiled. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” he said; his voice muffled behind her hand.

Taking her hand away, she smiled. “I won’t tell.”

“Thank you. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. I want to go home, though.”

“Good idea. Come on, let’s go.”

Five held out his hand and she took it in hers. They walked home in relative silence, but she never stopped holding his hand.

Later that day, when Cassie wasn’t around, Five told you about the bird incident. He was all fired up and pacing back and forth.

“I’m telling you…whoever the little shithead is at her school that’s doing this is going to get a giant boot shoved up their ass, because if you had seen her—”

“Five,” you cut in. “Thank you for being so concerned, but you can’t go around beating up kids. That’s not how things work.”

He stopped pacing and looked at you, still angry. “You didn’t see what I did. She was a mess.”

“I know, I’m worried, too, trust me. I haven’t even been sleeping and I wake up in the middle of the night thinking about her and how I just want to protect her.”

“Then let me teach her how to fight.”

You frowned, pulling your head back in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“I can teach her how to fight and how to defend herself. When I was her age I could take down a fully grown man. I can easily show her some basic moves that she can use against whoever this kid is. She can show them she’s not going to back down without a fight.”

 You laughed nervously. “Uh…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because…I don’t know!” You crossed your arms over your chest. “It just seems wrong somehow. And her dad is not going to like it, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, fuck him! And it’s not wrong. It’s how the world works. Not everything can be solved with rainbows and hugs. Sometimes you have to use your fist.”

“Five!”

“What? Am I wrong?”

You put your hands on your hips and your voice got harder. “Look, I know you mean well, but I’m just not going to agree with you on this. And it’s not your problem to solve, anyway. It’s mine and her father’s.” Five was silent but his face told you everything. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No, you’re right,” he said, his voice edged with anger. “It’s not my place. I’m just the boyfriend.”

“Five…come on. I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m not sure how else you could have meant it.”

You sighed and took his hand. “I’m sorry, honey, I really am. You know I love that you love Cassie and want to protect her. But in this case, I just don’t think violence is the answer.”

“Violence?” he asked, his eyebrows drawn together. He adopted that smug posture of his with his hands in his pockets and his head tilted to the side. “This isn’t violence, sweetheart. This is a little girl defending herself against some playground asshole. But, if you aren’t on board with that, I will let it go. You’re her mother, you know best.”

The two of you agreed to drop the subject for the time being. You didn’t want to hurt Five’s feelings because he was just trying to help in the best way he knew how. But you were still not convinced that his idea was the best for your daughter. Until the day she came home with a bloody elbow after being pushed onto the ground.

As you shook with anger and tried to blink back the tears in your own eyes, you crouched in front of Cassie while she sat on the toilet seat in the bathroom and you cleaned up her wound with a washcloth. She sniffed back her own tears, but had still refused to say who had done it. Five stood in the doorway, waiting to see what you would say now.

After a minute of silently working through your feelings, you turned to Five, looking up at him with a stony expression. “I changed my mind. Let’s do it your way.”

With a small smile, Five nodded his head. “Ok, darling,” he said quietly.

For the next week, every day after school, Five would take Cassie to the backyard to teach her basic defense strategies.

“You’re a natural,” Five said to her with a grin after she had successfully deflected him from grabbing her wrist.

“I can totally beat you up, Five,” she said with a giggle.

He nodded. “I know it. Pretty soon, I’m going to have to take lessons from you.”

She laughed again. “Don’t worry…I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Five pretended to be relieved. “Thank goodness for that, because I don’t want you on my bad side. Alright, now, let me see that block again.”

The next week, Cassie came home bursting with energy, and when she ran in the house after you walked her home from the bus stop, she immediately found Five in the kitchen.

“Five!” she cried. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“That mean girl, Emma, tried to push me again today, and I did just what you told me. I said ‘I don’t think so, fart face,’ and then she tried to kick me but I blocked her foot and she lost her balance and fell over onto the ground. She was ok, but she was a big baby and started crying and then she got up and ran away.”

“That’s great, kid! I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself,” Five said. Then he looked at you very pointedly. “Did you hear that? Emma.”

You nodded and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I heard it. You were right. Again.”

“I never get tired of hearing that.” Five stooped down so he was eye level with Cassie. “How do you feel now?”

“Great! And I don’t think Emma is going to be bothering me again because she looked pretty sad for the rest of the day.”

“And what did we learn from all of this? he asked.

“Not to take shit from anybody!” Cassie recited before realizing what she said and looking up at you with wide eyes. “Oops.”

You laughed. “You know what, Cass? I’ll let that one slide.”

Cassie laughed before turning back to Five and suddenly wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly. “Thanks, Five,” she said quietly.

“You’re welcome,” he said as he hugged her back. When he looked up at you with that gorgeous smile of his, while your daughter clung to him like a little spider monkey, you thought he had never looked sexier.

Later that evening, after Cassie had been picked up by your ex and you and Five had the house to yourselves, you were caught by surprise when Five grabbed your arm as you walked past him and blinked you directly into the bedroom and onto the bed. After seeing your shocked expression, he dragged you on top of him with a quiet laugh, brushing your hair off your face and tracing your lips with his thumb.

You put a hand on his wrist. “Before you start getting too frisky, I need to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For doing all of that for Cassie. She’s back to her strong and happy self and that’s because of you. I should have listened to you sooner.”

He nodded with a smile. “Yes, you should have. Let that be a lesson for you.”

“I’m serious!” you laughed. “Really, you are amazing.”

He didn’t say anything to that, but his eyes searched yours intently before giving a slight shake of his head. “You’re amazing. And fuck, you are gorgeous,” he told you before his mouth was roughly attacking yours.

As your kisses heated up and your bodies began reacting to one another, you started grinding down on him, making little whimpering noises when his hand tangled in your hair and his mouth traveled down your neck. You would never get tired of the feeling of his mouth on you. It didn’t matter where or how; crashing it hungrily onto yours, licking at your nipples with a sharp flick of his tongue; teasing you mercilessly with long, lazy laps over your clit; it was all amazing.

When it came to Five’s perfect body, he was like an endless, erotic buffet for your senses. Just the simple act of tasting his skin on your tongue was enough to make you dripping wet. Every inch of him, every scar and imperfection, was so fucking delicious it made your mouth water. Combine that with his natural, intoxicating scent and you could never get enough.

Climbing off, you stripped your clothes away in a hurry before yanking his underwear down, exposing his fully hard length. Five stroked your cheek with his finger as you knelt between his legs and leaned down, grasping him firmly in your hand to trace the head of his cock with your tongue.

“That’s my good girl,” he sighed before closing his eyes and laying his head back.

You always wanted to take care of him like this. He did so much for you in your everyday life, and you knew how long he had gone without physical love of any kind before you came along. It made you feel good to know that you could give that to him now.

You felt him reach down and gently sweep your hair to the side so he could watch as your lips encircled his thick shaft and your hot mouth slid over him. Your head moved up and down as you took in as much of him as you could without gagging, feeling the satiny skin of his cock glide over your tongue. When you started sucking hard on the tip while flicking your tongue over the underside and stroking the rest of his shaft with your fist, he let out a long, shaky moan.

“Come here, baby…please,” he gasped with a gentle tug of your hair.

When you let go and crawled slowly up his body, you slid your wet sex against him, letting his hard dick slip between your folds and press against your clit. He answered back with a roll of his hips into yours; his abs tightening and flexing with the motion.

Your lips brushed softly over his as you quietly questioned him before moving over to his cheek where you sucked a gentle kiss onto his dimple. “I want to give you everything you want, Five.” You swept his hair off his forehead and kissed him again. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

He held your chin with one hand while the other gripped your hip tightly. His eyes met yours with nothing but pure lust behind them. “I want to come inside you.”

You nodded; your lips slightly parted while your eyes searched his. With a quick maneuver of your hips, he was slipping inside you; bottoming out as you adjusted yourself and spread your bent knees further apart. When you started to sit up, he pulled you back down so that you were flush with his chest again.

“I need you close.”

Five was always loving with you, but when he let himself be fully vulnerable and open, that’s when you felt the most connected to him. Hearing him admit he needed you like that made your connection that much deeper.

After a long, deep kiss, you began to slowly move over his cock while he pushed his hips up to meet yours, his heels digging into the mattress. Your pace quickened as you became needier; with your kisses getting sloppier and your hands roaming over his chest and arms.

“I love you,” you whined desperately, pulling yourself away from his eager mouth for just a second.

The feel of his cock inside you was everything. You stared into his beautiful green eyes as he thrust his hips up into you again and again. Just as you were starting to near your threshold, Five grabbed your hips and flung you off, so that you landed on your back next to him.

You gave a small shriek. “What the –”

Five was up on his knees before you could finish your thought, his dick still hard and wet from being inside you. With a half-smile and a hoarse chuckle, he grasped your hips again, pausing for just a moment.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he said between harsh breaths, right before he flipped you over onto your stomach.

Once you were face down on the bed, Five roughly pulled you back until you could feel his hard cock sliding through your folds and against your throbbing clit as his hip bones slammed against your ass with one jerk. He shoved your legs apart with his knees as he ran a hand down your back.

Your breathing was loud and labored as you pushed back against him. “Oh shit,” you panted; your voice muffled by the mattress beneath you.

Five slowly moved his cock over your slit, teasing you while caressing your ass and thighs. “I’m sorry, darling, I changed my mind. I need to fuck you hard and make you scream.”

With one perfectly executed thrust, he was inside you again, his hips slamming against you while your body was propelled forward. You let out a loud moan and reached a hand down to finger your clit while he fucked you hard from behind. Five stopped suddenly and yanked your hand away.

“No touching yourself until I say so,” he ordered you before continuing to pound you.

You hissed into the sheet under your face. The feeling of his dick filling you up from that angle and his forceful thrusts hurt so good. But you really needed more stimulation to make yourself come hard.

“Five,” you moaned. “Please…”

“No,” he told you, and you could hear the smirk on his face. “Just be good for me, baby.”

Grunting and groaning, Five kept at it, ramming into you over and over again. You weren’t sure how he was able to keep going like that; he had to be getting close. You were, too, but you were dying to touch yourself.

“You’re doing so well for me, sweet girl. Just…fuck…you feel so good,” Five groaned through clenched teeth.

“Please…”you whined again. “Five…please…”

“God, you drive me crazy when you beg like that. Go ahead, sweetheart. Let me feel you come all over my cock.”

Finally getting his permission, you began to finger yourself, using all four fingers to press into your clit while Five continued to fuck you as hard as possible. His cock hit just the right spot as your hand did the rest of the work and soon you were spasming against him as you cried out his name over and over. Hearing you call out his name like that sent Five over the edge and a few seconds later he was filling you up with his warm cum while his hips stilled against your ass, his fingers gripping you tightly.

When you collapsed onto the bed, Five pulled out and laid down beside you. He rested a hand on your back as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Damn, Five,” you breathed out with a laugh. You slid over so you could snuggle up to him and threw an arm over his waist. He pushed his damp hair off his face before hugging you to him and kissing the top of your head.

He was still breathing hard and he let out a short chuckle. “Sorry. I hope that was ok.”

“Ok? That was more than ok, that was fucking incredible” you laughed again, rubbing your cheek against his chest. You were silent for a moment as your breathing started to return to normal. “I meant it when I said I want to give you everything you want. And not just sex. I mean everything.”

You weren’t sure he was going to respond at first but then you felt him swallow hard. “You are all I’ve ever wanted,” he whispered with his lips pressed into your hair. “Thank you for loving me.”

You placed a hand on the side of his face and kissed him deeply before pressing your forehead against his and closing your eyes. There was no need to say anything else; the way you looked into his eyes and the feel of your body melting into his was enough. Five never needed to thank you, though, because loving him was the easiest thing in the world. He loved you and your daughter deeply, and he made your family complete. Which was all you had ever wanted.

@kaybreezy3000

[starkwlkr]

how bout a teenage Ruby fix where she starts dating, or maybe even a baby Ruby fix where she has like a fake wedding with one of her classmates and of course the absolute meltdown of Charles

here comes the bride | charles leclerc

i have several request for teenage ruby dating so i went with the fake wedding <3 and here we have the return of ben iykyk (he’s a classmate of ruby that appears in another fic) thanks for requesting!!

It was a sunny Friday afternoon when Charles received a piece of paper with crayon scribbled all over it from Ruby. He had just come back from his run and all he wanted was to take a shower and sleep so when he read the paper, he didn’t pay attention to it thinking it was just something Ruby wanted him to put on the refrigerator door with magnets so he did exactly that.

After taking a shower, he walked to his bedroom where his wife was waiting. As he passed by Ruby’s room, he saw her wearing her princess dress and heels, posing infront of her mirror.

“Ruby Jules, it’s time to sleep. You can dress up tomorrow. Put away your toys, okay?” Charles told her.

“Okay. I have a big day tomorrow, papa!” She smiled then proceeded to put away her Barbies in their designated spot.

Charles didn’t think much of it. Again, he thought that maybe she had a playdate the next day so he kissed her cheek and tucked her into bed. Then walked to Mathéo’s room and did the same.

The following morning, Charles was making himself a cup of tea when he heard the doorbell ring. He wasn’t expecting company, but he opened the door anyways. Once he did, he saw several of the neighborhood kids and Ben, a classmate of Ruby, with toys in their hands. They often came over to play with Ruby.

“Hi Ruby’s papa, is Ruby here?” A boy asked.

“She’s in the backyard playing.” He let the group of five kids in. They knew their way around the house so they ran towards the backyard to play with Ruby.

“Isn’t it a little early for them? It’s eight thirty.” Y/n checked her watch as she made her way into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

“Ruby got up early too. Look at her, she’s already in her princess outfit. She was wearing it yesterday night.” Charles said.

“She’s been wearing it all week I think. And those plastic princess heels with Snow White on them. Last time she stepped on my foot with those I thought I was going to die. They fucking hurt. I want to punch whoever invented them.” Y/n said as she opened the refrigerator door to get milk for Mathéo’s bowl of cereal. That’s when she noticed the paper that Ruby had given Charles last night. In pink and blue crayon it read:

‘Ruby and Ben wedding

Where? Outside

When? Morning

bring toys for the bride and Ben’

In a matter of seconds, Y/n pieced it all together. So that’s why Ruby wanted her dress to be washed and for her toy chairs to be lined up in the backyard. As Charles watched the kids play outside, Y/n took the paper from the refrigerator. She then joined Charles by the glass sliding door that led to the backyard to watch the kids.

“Why does she need all of her stuffed animals outside? They’re going to get dirty! See? Floppy just fell to the ground and Snoopy’s fur is starting to be a different color! What if I go out there and tell her to put away her toys? The other kids brought toys, she could play with those.” Charles said then sipped on his tea.

“Well you can’t crash your daughters wedding. You’re going to look like an asshole.”

Then Charles spat out his tea getting all on the glass door. “What? Wedding? Nobody is getting married!”

“Oh my dear sweet husband.” Y/n laughed. “I’m guessing she gave this to you. I just saw it on the refrigerator door.” She handed the paper to Charles.

As he read it, Mathéo ran down the stairs with his own stuffed animal in hand. “Come on! We’re going to miss the wedding!”

“He knew about the wedding too?!” Charles was pushed outside by his son, Y/n following her boys to the backyard.

“Maman! Papa! Théo! You made it!” Ruby gasped as she saw her family walking towards her and Ben, who was dressed in a simple white shirt and black shorts.

“Yeah, I live here.” Charles stated. “Ruby Jules—” he was about to tell her the wedding was off when Y/n stopped him.

“It’s fake, Charles. Just let them play.” She reminded him. “Come on, let’s sit with the rest of the bride’s family.” She saw three empty seats next to Floppy and the rest of Ruby’s stuffed animals.

“Fine, but I’m just saying. . . No boy will ever be good enough for my precious girl.” He was about to sit down next to Floppy but Ruby stopped him.

“Papa, you have to walk me down the aisle. Please?” Ruby asked.

Charles couldn’t resist. Ruby was his little girl, of course he would do anything for her. So he grabbed her hand and took her to the end of the ‘aisle’ and while baby shark played, Charles and Ruby walked towards Ben.

When they reached Ben, Charles crouched down and look at the boy. “Don’t make my little girl cry or be sad, okay? If you do, all of Italy, Monaco and her uncles will hate you—”

“Charles, babe, don’t threaten the kid.” Y/n warned as Charles got up and placed a kiss on Ruby’s temple.

Charles then joined his wife and son and sat on the uncomfortable tiny plastic chair. “I thought I wouldn’t have to do this until she was older.”

“You’re okay, you’ll live. And I thought I would be the one crying when Ruby got married.” Y/n teased.

[jigeuminunbich]

digitally yours | lee donghyuck (haechan)

synopsis in which after a night out you already expect to come home to your boyfriend, donghyuck, grossly hunched over his desk with his face illuminated by his monitor screen, playing god knows what— but what you don’t expect is to find him playing an entirely different game than usual.

genre nonidol!au, fem!reader, established relationship, comedy, and fluff

warnings minor suggestive comments & death/suicide mention (hyuck is just extremely dramatic)

word count 1.5k

a/n my nct brainrot has obviously reached a peak and please bare with me since i haven’t written a one-shot in AGES lol (anyway, enjoy lots!)

“So you want me to kill myself is what I’m hearing,”

A sigh passed your freshly glossed lips, darting your eyes to your boyfriend’s reflection in the mirror.

“Hyuck, it’s just a few hours,”

“Exactly. Enough for me to end it all.” Donghyuck muttered— the pout on his lips evident in his speech, retreating to his gaming chair where he sat boneless. Sparing you the most solemnest, and the most pathetic glances he could muster just to make sure you were still paying attention.

Truth be told, you knew there was absolutely no point in reasoning with your boyfriend. You knew he was gonna draw out every situation with his dramatics to the point where you would just give up and give him the win.

Ignoring his attempt to get you to change your mind last minute, you collected your things so you could swiftly breeze through your door and begin your night out.

“Goodbye, Donghyuck,” you reluctantly decide to grace him with a brief peck on his pouty lips. Breaking him down from his sulky attitude to the point where said lips stretched into a satisfied smirk.

Before you could lean yourself back upright, Donghyuck’s hand had circled the back of your neck— bringing your lips back to his own to further the kiss you had shared. You indulged him for a bit, bracing yourself with both hands on the armrest of his chair, but eventually decided to cut him off before he actually started effectively convincing you to stay home with him.

“Alright, seriously, I’m going now,” your feet move to separate yourself from Donghyuck before he could reach out for you once more. You rub your lips together, noting to retouch your gloss before you got to where you were going.

Donghyuck sighed, accepting his defeat.

“Okay, okay. Have a good night, baby,” he chirped as you made your way to the bedroom door. As your hand brushed the knob, you glanced over one last time to see Donghyuck returning his attention to his monitor.

“And Hyuck,”

“Hmm…”

“Please don’t stay on League all night.”

Donghyuck snorted dismissively. “I won’t.”

He reassured you, signaling you with a shooing motion to finally exit from your shared bedroom. You cut your eyes at him, not believing a word he says but also not having enough time to spare to bicker with him about his habits.

Illuminated by his monitor, Donghyuck flutters his pretty lashes at you, feigning innocence. “I promise I won’t, angel,” his nickname of choice for you eliminating a third of the unease you were holding.

You huffed, finally peeling the door open to slither your way out. Before completely taking your leave, you throw a final threat suggestion to him.

“And go to sleep at a reasonable time!”

“I will!”

“God,” you jumped, clutching your chest at the sight of your boyfriend half-way deep inside your refrigerator.

He glared at you with his bloodshot eyes as wide as saucers, the bright light of the fridge illuminating his face making him look strangely ghost-like. Unfortunately, this wasn’t your first time catching your beloved boyfriend at what you could only describe as his worst. His back curved viciously, scavenging in your kitchen (curbards and all) looking for anything to qualm his late night cravings.

Your eyes flickered down to his favorite choice. A crisp cold red bull fit snugly in his fingers, you sighed— your shoulders coming down from your initial fright.

“Hyuck, what did I say?” You spoke as if you were an owner disciplining their disobedient pet. Only this pet stayed awake till ungodly hours and drank energy drinks like water.

Donghyuck whined, already knowing you were gonna reprimand him for doing exactly what you told him not to do. He closed the fridge door and waddled toward you, purpleish bags circling his eyes.

You braced yourself as he wrapped his arms around you, his chin landing on your shoulder— anticipating the way he was gonna try to pry himself out of this situation with what he thought was his best asset: being annoying.

“You can’t blame me, ___,” your name floated from his lips in a sing-song manner, Donghyuck’s breath tickling your neck.

“I can’t blame you for staying up and playing League with Jeno?” You inquired, not letting him have an effect on you (or at least trying not to let him have an effect on you).

Donghyuck snickered, craning his neck up, his half-lidded doe-like eyes glittering in clear exhaustion. “That’s because I wasn’t playing league with Jen’…” he smirked.

You sighed, already exhausted with his antics. “Then what, Hyuck?”

“Lemme show you,” his head returned to the crook of your neck, his breath making you shiver. Your eyebrows knitted together— shrugging off your want to not further fuel him, finally (unsurprisingly) giving into his actions. Donghyuck circled his arm around yours’, dragging you to your shared bedroom.

To say you were surprised to find out he actually wasn’t pulling your leg about not playing with Jeno would be an understatement. Donghyuck hummed his way to his desk, settling down his drink of choice and pulling you into his lap— a position you were familiar with.

The screen re-illuminated itself at the tap of Donghyuck’s fingers, soon graphics you hadn’t seen in months filled his monitor. You blinked at the scene in front of you— a house in build-mode— in confusion, it wasn’t like Donghyuck to play the Sims. He had only installed it on his PC for you— and you hadn’t touched it in at least six months.

Your eyes fell to the bottom of the screen, two characters that dangerously resembled you and your boyfriend idly in the bottom left corner. You couldn’t help but giggle at what was unfolding, Donghyuck had presumably stayed up for the past five hours simply making you and him in a simulated game.

Donghyuck’s face nudged into your shoulder once more, “Ya’ like?” He inquired, his speech a bit slurred from his evident lack of rest.

You giggled lightly, turning your head to meet his sheepish gaze. “I love,” you rivaled.

A sleepy, yet triumphant smile spread across Donghyuck’s face. He sat back in his chair, it bouncing with his shift in weight. “As you should. I busted my ass off in create-a-sim,” he proclaimed, a hint of bitterness laced in his words. Your eyes flitted to the screen, squinting to see your simulated look-a-like. You had to give it to him, they were pretty accurate.

“They are really good, Hyuck. It’s like a mirror,” you mused. Donghyuck hummed, clearly basking in your compliments. Before you could get off any more, he interjected– a sneaky hand climbing up your spine over your jacket that you still hadn’t removed due to Donghyuck’s eagerness to have you in this position.

“Should I download wicked whims to test their realism?” You didn’t have to look at your boyfriend to know he was wiggling his eyebrows expectantly, and that he was when you snapped your head to him at a neck-breaking speed.

“Moment ruined,” you spoke sourly, placing your palms on Donghyuck’s desk to balance yourself as you tried to get up. Hurriedly, arms were encompassed around you to pull you back down into his lap.

“Kidding, kidding,” he mumbled with his lips against your skin, a for now being muffled lowly into your neck just moments after.

You sighed, reluctantly allowing yourself to become comfortable with his touch once again. “All right, pro simmer, now that I’ve seen your accomplishments— can you please go to bed for me?”

Donghyuck yawned on cue, leaning in to click past you and shut down the screen he had become acquainted with all night. With his computer no longer needing his attention, your boyfriend circled his strong arms around your waist. “Anything for you, angel,” he chirped.

“Tsk. You said something like that earlier—“ A slender finger was placed gingerly on your lips, hushing you promptly.

“Shh, let’s not dwell on the past, love,” Donghyuck’s hand fell to come back to its rightful place on your torso.

You snorted, shaking your head at him. Though annoying, there was something about Donghyuck that you’d always find endearing— without fail.

Comfortably, you leaned in to have your lips angled against his own— catching him by surprise for a fleeting second. Exhaustion aside, Donghyuck always had enough energy to give you affection. He slanted his head opposite of yours, humming in satisfaction as your lips moved in harmony. There was a disgruntled whine that crawled its way out of Donghyuck’s throat upon your disconnect.

“More once you get some sleep,” you placed a final peck on his pouty lips. You could visibly see Donghyuck fighting back the urge to argue with you but his exhaustion must’ve gotten the better of him because without a word, he scooted his chair away from his desk— signaling that he was ready to get up.

Proud you were wordlessly crowned victor of your non-existent fight, you kindly moved off of his lap to grant him room to launch himself from his chair to the middle of your shared bed. You laughed at him, beginning to finally strip yourself of the clothes that seemed to weigh you down after wearing them all night.

Much to Donghyuck’s delight, it didn’t take you very long to climb into bed alongside him. Cuddling into his warmth, and allowing him to sling a comfortable leg across your torso to cling onto you more effectively.

“Love you,” he mumbled tiredly into the crook of your neck, emitting another yawn.

“I love you too, Hyuck.”

“Also my sim is having an affair with Don Lothario, so don’t be shocked when you log in next time.”

“What?!”

© jigueminunbich 2024

[mxnhoo]

mwah! (k. sn)

ˋ "just bored, nothing else" ࿐ྂ ⁀➷ kim sunoo x reader genre : bro is your bestfriend, bestfriends to lovers (kinda..), inspired by that one sunoo live LOL, not proofread, kiss kiss kiss w/c : ~2.1k cly's note : finally back with something! god guys i'm so fucking sorry for being so inactive. i know i promised that i'd release my hyunjin fic very soon but i just had to write something else to get me back to writing altogether yknow? i hope you guys like this one, im insanely rusty and my kissing scenes are NAWT IT, but regardless hope ya'll enjoy it. wrote this all in one sitting, my ass hurts, if you enjoyed it, please do reblog like and comment! ANYWAYS GN.

border isn't made by me, credits to cafekitsune

The doorbell rang and you raised your eyebrows, looking at everything in sight as you patiently wait for the door to swing open. And it does after a while, and your bestfriend was heavily panting, his posture slightly slouched as he processed that you were here. "You're.. here," he managed to voice out through his heavy panting and you give him a small smile while your eyes lit up at him, "I am".

"Come in, kept you waitin', sorry," he spoke in short sentences, his voice still breathless as he stepped aside from the door, making space for you to walk in and you nod, stepping foot into his house and now being hit with the unfamiliar scent of his apartment. His new apartment. Sunoo had recently moved, and he invited you over because he wanted to show you around his house, catch up with you, y'know, stuff like that.

He was your best friend for a while, a few years, and as much as you admire him as a friend, you also wanted him real bad. Like reeal bad. He has stolen your heart since the first time you saw it and the boy's completely clueless about it, everything he does to you leaving you to question if he did it on purpose to hint something or if he was just being clueless.

He'd always invited you over to his house to hang, play games, stuff like that, but with him moving and his academic workload accumulating, he had been busy and had lesser time to see you, and today was finally the day you could see him after a few weeks. You glanced at the boy who watched you walk in and took the opportunity to ruffle his golden hair, voicing out a "How have you been?".

He smiles at you and slowly closes the front door behind you and locking it. "Good, just been a bit stressful lately, 'bout you?". You turned back to the sight of his new apartment, the same paintings that were hung on a different wall and old furniture that blended in with some new furniture you've never seen before.

"Great. Seems like you've finished moving in, how's it like so far?" you question, walking in more towards the living room, now setting yourself on the couch and looking at the light that was hanging above you.

"Been amazing so far! It gets tough without mama sometimes, but I can cope," he follows you but stands in front of you instead of sitting himself down, "Could I get you anything? Apple juice, orange, water". He remains silent before continuing, "Probably an apple juice right? Your favourite."

Your gaze fixates on him from the hanging lights, the image of him in your brain being refreshed as you took view of his facial features, his blonde hair slightly messy and his lips looking plump and kissable as ever. His lips slightly agape as he eventually started to catch his breath and his eyes looking down on you. You gulp at this sight of him, you almost forgot how beautiful looked and before you could go into a daze about how attractive he looked, you slowly nodded your head, a small smile forming on your face as he recalled your favourite joke, even if it was normal for best friends to remember these types of things.

"Okay, gotcha." was the last thing he said before walking towards his refrigerator. Your eyes followed his every move, the way he opened the refrigerator door, the way he pulled out a carton and closing the refrigerator before pouring the drink into a glass up that was conveniently placed on the counter near him. Your eyes lingered onto the magnets on his refrigerator when he closed it, recognising a photo that was nicely placed in the centre with 2 magnets at opposite corners.

"You still have that?" you pointed at the photo, and Sunoo turned his head over his shoulder, glancing at you before following where you were pointing to, and his eyes land on the photo. The corners of his mouth curl up before he placed the carton down, "Yeah, why wouldn't I?".

It was a photo of you and him in a party, sitting on a couch while posing with peace signs on both hands. It was when you two had first met when people had introduced you to each other or when you practically begged people to introduce you to him . The way you two clicked so fast is quite scary, and from then on you two were quite inseperable.

"I just think it's surprising," you reply, "Out of all the photos we have, you decide to put that one, y'know?".

"It's a special day," he instantly replies, turning his back with a cup of apple juice in his hand. He made his way to you and you raise your eyebrows at his response, "Special?". Your heart fluttered at the thought of him considering a day with you special, and you almost gave it away by putting the most stupid smile on your face, but it took every ounce of self-control inside you not to do so.

"It is the day we met after all," he sat beside you, offering you the cup of apple juice that you had requested. Your eyes slightly widened, and a small smile creeping onto your face as you register what he said. You hastily took the cup into your hand, "You care about those types of things? Like, first days, first meetings, stuff like that?". Everytime you meet him, he always seems to surprise you with something new with no fail, and that's one part you like so much about him.

He hummed, his approving sound accompanied with a small nod and you took a sip of the apple juice. The sweetness immediately hit your taste bud and you quickly swallowed, voicing out a quick 'Ahh' after the refreshing sip. Your eyes look at him and you realise he was already looking at you and it made your heart skip a beat.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" you chuckled, lowering the cup from your face as you flash him a grin. He quickly looked away, a faint smile on his face, "Just missed you".

There he goes again, saying things like that. Is he doing that with a purpose? Like to flirt with you, or is the boy just being genuine? Clueless?

You choked on your drink, his response being the last thing you expected and you shot him a bewildered look. He laughs at you choking, probably enjoying how he managed to get a reaction out of you and you glared at him.

"Are you just teasing me or what?" you questioned, placing your glass cup on the small coffee table in frornt of you.

"I am," he giggled, "I'm kinda bored so it's quite funny to tease you".

Oh yeah?

"Hey," you call out to him, your tone suddenly serious and his laughs die down, his eyes slowly moving to you "I'm bored too".

His eyebrows raised, feeling confused as to where this was going.

"Since we're bored, should we kiss?"

He chokes on the air, his hand flying to his mouth as he looked away from you. You gently patted his back as if you weren't the one who just dropped a 'let's-kiss' bomb on him, a smirk forming on your lips. Once he stopped coughing, he looked back at you, his cheeks a bright tint of pink and his eyes slightly widened, "W-what did you say?".

You looked at him with an amused expression, "I said, let's kiss." You honestly have no idea where this ounce of confidence came from, but if he wanna tease you, he can only get the taste of his own medicine right?

He started to stutter, his gaze being everywhere but on you as he started to scratch his neck, the way he was so flustered being so painfully obvious as you chuckle.

"I'm just kidding," you said. As much as you wanted to kiss him, your intentions were only to tease him back. Upon hearing you, his eyes shot to you, his eyes showing that he was slightly disappointed, "Why?".

"What do you mean?" you questioned. "Why were you 'just kidding'?" "What, do you want an actual kiss or something?" "Yeah.. Yeah, I do."

Now it was your turn to be flustered. You looked at him with widened eyes, your jaw quite literally dropping as you stared at him, taking a moment to process his reply. Sunoo wanted a kiss? And he just openly admitted it?

"Sunoo, quit the teasing, it's not funny at this point." "Who says I'm teasing? I'm being serious, Y/N".

Fucking hell, no fucking way Sunoo admitted that he wanted to kiss you. "O-okay wait, so you're serious about wanting a kiss from me, right?" you questioned, wanting confirmation and that you weren't just dreaming.

"Yes, I want a kiss from you, a kiss from your lips Y/N".

You blink at him repetitively before unconsciously standing up to your feet from the couch, your eyes still fixated on him.

"This feels so wrong," you nervously bit your lip and he sat up and reached out to gently hold your wrist, slightly pulling you towards him, "It isn't, don't worry".

"Do you really want this, Nu?" you spat out, suddenly feeling doubtful about everything and anxiety grew inside you. He gently tugged at your arm, causing you to look at him and he replied, "Been wanting this since forever".

If you said that your heart wasn't going to explode, you'd be lying. Your breathing rate picked up as your chest rises up and down hastily, and your gaze fall on his lips that were slightly parted. You looked back up at his eyes and you immediately notice his eyes on your lips. Your free hand cups his cheek, and you quickly voice out "Me too, Nu" before leaning in and closing the distance between the two of you.

His hand immediately released your wrist, his hands immediately finding comfort on your waist as he pulled you closer. The kiss was slow, passionate as both of your mouths moved in the same rhythm. You could feel him smile during the kiss and you slightly tilt his head to help you get more access to his mouth. Butterflies filled your stomach as you finally process that you were kissing your bestfriend, you were kissing Sunoo. The kiss was so passionate, and it was now evident that you two have been dying for this moment. The longing for each other added fuel to the fire, and your hands gradually make way to his hair, lightly pulling on it.

The surroundings around the two of you slowly start to seem non-existent as you both increasingly melt into each other. At this point of time, only you and Sunoo mattered, nothing else. He nibbled on your bottom lip, causing you to gasp and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring your mouth as much as he can. Both of your tongues fought a fiery battle for dominance, and to no surprise, he won. The kiss was becoming so heated and intense, and before things could escalate, your hands quickly trail down to his chest and you slightly push him backwards, pulling away from the kiss.

Both of your chests rise up rapidly as your foreheads rest on each other. Eye contact was maintained as you both looked into each other's eyes. "Did.. did that just happen?" you question, still trying to catch your breath as you remain in shock as to what just happened.

"Fuck yeah, been wanting that for so long you don't even know," he confessed. A smirk forms on his lips as his eyes quickly flicker to your lips then back to your eyes. You chuckle as you close your eyes, your head leaning on him even more.

You pull away completely to sit on the spot beside him on the couch, your eyes still on him and you shook your head, "How long exactly?"

"Since I first met you." he responded, his answer once again never failing to surprise you.

"Mutual feeling then," you confessed, your breathing slowing down as you finally manage to catch your breath. He seemed shocked by the fact, but he definitely wasn't complaining.

"Since you care about first's so much, then consider that our first kiss, yeah?" you chuckled. "Sure thing, just know it won't be our last."

[dadvans]

memorial day

Memorial Day is always the Monday to end all Mondays, year after year. Buck discovers it’s a little bit better when you have a guy waiting for you after a stupid shift and you both get to trade war stories.

Tommy greets him with a kiss and presses two beers from a six pack to his hands when Buck lets him in, then walks over to the kitchen to put the other four away.

“I don’t know about you, but my stupidest call today was putting out a brush fire caused by a gender reveal party. You’d think after El Dorado people would fucking learn, but holiday weekends always bring out the idiots.” He opens the refrigerator door and spots the saran wrapped plate Buck left there for him. “Or maybe you had a much better day than me. Bobby cook?”

“No, uh, actually,” Buck says, hunting for the church key in the drawer behind him. “My stupidest call of the day would be the neighborhood barbecue brawl that broke out. Three guys arguing over who would man the grill. The backyard seemed salvageable when we left, but one guy’s face not so much after another dad tried to give it the smash burger treatment on an open flame. Some families were so embarrassed they actually sent us home with leftovers. I was able to weasel out a second plate for you.”

“Evan.” Tommy takes the plate out and stares down at it with a confused little smile, what Buck has taken to calling his Who Me? face in his head.

“It wasn’t hard, pretty sure Athena and Maddie and Karen got one too. Anyway, you should try the potato salad. Apparently, it’s grandma’s famous recipe.”

Buck cracks the caps off both of their beers and replaces the church key with a fork for Tommy. Tommy gives him another look before digging in. One bite of potato salad in and his eyes are rolling back in his head.

“Fuck, I love you,” he says, meaningfully at the plate and not at Buck.

Buck laughs. “Wings aren’t bad either. Cole slaw I can do better.”

“Sure,” Tommy replies graciously. He picks up a chicken wing and has the meat practically sucked off the bone in two bites. “I can’t remember the last time I spent one of these actually getting to enjoy part of it.”

Later, after Buck gets him to wipe the buffalo sauce off the corner of his mouth, Tommy gets on his knees for Buck and shows him exactly how grateful he is with a fairly luxurious blowjob. Buck comes down the back of his throat and slurs out a thank you for your service, to which Tommy playfully flips him off. And he’s no potato salad, Tommy didn’t need to say it, but he’s feeling pretty loved too.

[blackleatherjacketz]

Shadow and Sin: Chapter 3

Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having just moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they truly are until it's too late.

This Chapter: Your brother warns you against Elijah, so you get a Tarot reading to clear things up, only to be interrupted by Klaus.

Warnings: Brotherly Warnings, Witches, Alcohol, Tarot, Compulsion, Negging, Manipulation, Holding Hands, Kissing, Biting, Blood Play

Word Count: 2.7k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

“That Elijah guy really creeps me out, you know.” Austin tells you as he haphazardly enters your apartment. He makes his way over to the middle of your living room before throwing himself down on the sofa, opening his Styrofoam container of pad Thai

“Creeps you out? You met him for like five seconds!” You juggle your to-go box and two bottles of water as you kick the refrigerator door shut, setting them both down on the coffee table next to him. Your brother always had something bad to say about the men whose company you kept, but he seemed painfully vigilant about this one. “What do you even mean?”

“I dunno, sis, there’s something off about him. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but like… who wears a three piece suit like that in New Orleans?” He shakes his head and takes a bite of his noodles as if he hadn’t eaten in days, which very may well be the case. “And an all black one, at that?”

“Maybe he’s a local,” you argue with a shrug, having noticed that particular strange detail yourself. “Maybe the heat doesn’t bother him like it bothers us?”

“No, his accent isn’t from here.” He shakes his head and takes another bite before taking his time to swallow. “Whatever it is, I don’t like it. You’re always way too trusting of people, and it’s going to get the best of you one of these days.”

“Oh, shut up, you don’t like anyone.” You roll your eyes and twist the noodles onto your fork, slightly blowing for them to cool. “Maybe he just came from a funeral… or maybe he’s a vampire, and that’s why he’s cold enough to wear all those layers.” You joke with a dramatic tone, finally taking your first bite.

“Vampires aren’t real, sis. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Despite living in the most magical city in the world, your brother remains one of the most defiantly skeptical people you’d ever known. He refuses to believe in the supernatural despite the local legends, convinced instead that Louisiana has the highest homicide rate in the country due to the fault of human beings alone.

“So, what is it this time, then, huh? The vibes are off? His handshake wasn’t as strong as you wanted it to be? He didn’t look you in the eye for the correct amount of time before looking back down at the floor?” You call him out of his chronically obsessive behavior, referencing reasons he’s given you in the past for not liking certain people. “All we did was talk about books, anyway.”

“Uh-huh.” It was his turn to roll his eyes as he chewed on his noodles. “I know that look.”

“What look?” You ask sheepishly, hoping you weren’t imagining how Elijah was staring at you in the library.

“Just be careful.”

———————————————

The city is more alive after your brother passes out on your couch, and you slip out into the heavy night air, leaving him nothing but a note that you locked up tight and would be back before morning. You know you’d never hear the end of it if you didn’t tell him where you were, even if he had never done the same for you in return. Classic Austin.

The absence of the sun does little to bring down the temperature and humidity of this place, making it feel as if a thick blanket of heat rests on your shoulders, wrapping itself around your torso and legs as you attempt to seem unaffected by it, the beads of sweat on your skin no doubt giving you away. Everyone else in the crowd around you either seems to embrace it, not to notice, or be far too inebriated to even care. You duck in between a few drunk and disorderly tourists, a splash of watermelon slushie getting spilled in your hair before you’re able to walk into the voodoo shop that most people were too scared to enter.

“You shouldn’t be here, baby. It’s dangerous after dark.” The old lady behind the counter tells you, looking up from her ancient spell book. The wrinkles on her face tell the story of decades of magic, of life in the quarter that your brother would never even pretend to believe as the power within her vibrates the air around you, reminding you of what drew you to this city to begin with.

“The sign out front says that you do tarot readings.” You pull a twenty dollar bill out of your pocket and gently place it on the counter, pushing it toward her. “Would you be willing to do one for me?”

“You sure you want that?” Her voice is cautious as she looks you over, her eyes whitened with age as they peer into your very soul.

“I’m sure.” You’ve been dying to have your cards read so that you might know what to expect, to see if the fates can prove your brother wrong about his misconceptions about the man in the library.

“Alright, baby.” She smiles and shuffles the deck, slowly singing a song to herself in the process as three cards slowly fall out onto the counter in front of you. “Let’s see, here.”

She turns the first one over slowly before looking up at you, almost as if to make sure you’re paying attention. “The Moon. You’re going to have to choose between two paths, although it may not be clear which one is good and which one is bad. You can rely on the light of the moon to guide you, though, child. Don’t forget that.” She wags a finger in your face and turns the next card over. “The Emperor, a strong masculine figure will enter your life. He is rigid on control and order, but he’s also one who will serve you well. Don’t dismiss him too quickly, now.” She smiles at you before her hand hovers over the last card for what seems like forever, shaking a little before flipping it upright.

“The King of Swords… reversed.” She gives you a wary look, inhaling deeply before lifting her palm up to face you, as if that will help ease your mind somehow. “Don’t you worry now…”

“Don’t worry? You look worried!” Your eyes widen as your heart begins to race, wondering what could be so damn scary about this card that could frighten this old woman to the point of shaking.

Before she can answer you, the bell jingling above the door breaks your train of thought. The woman’s face suddenly drops as if she’d just seen a ghost, her expression far worse than when she saw your third card. She pats your hand affectionately as if to tell you that she’s all done with you, that you can go now, before letting go of your fingers. Without a word, she hurriedly collects your cards, making sure to shuffle them evenly back into the deck before taking a deep breath and glancing up at the new customer.

“What have we here? A little midnight tarot reading, is it?” You’d recognize that voice anywhere as it resonates deep within your bones, his very presence prickling your skin into an uneven pattern of excitable gooseflesh. “Consulting the fates before deciding to give me a call, love?”

“No harm in that, is there?” The woman answers for you, plastering a more believable smile onto her face as your benefactor slowly approaches the both of you.

“I suppose not.” He looks at you with a dark grin before addressing her again. “And what did the cards tell you this time, Marie? Anything you’d like to share with the class?”

“You know I can’t tell you that. The reading’s for her, and her alone.” She continues to shuffle the deck, making sure to lose your cards along the way. “Although I’d be happy to read your cards if you’d like.”

“Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary.” He smirks, standing right next to you as he leans against the counter. “I’ve had them read more than enough times in my lifetime.”

God, he smells good.

“What can I do for you this time, wolf?” Marie asks him with a pained familiarity.

“Wolf?” You repeat, trying to make sense of the growing knot tying into your stomach.

Klaus laughs nervously, turning that angelic face of his toward you. “That’s just a little term of endearment Marie uses for me.” He pauses and waits for her to agree with a silent nod. “Wolf, baby, love, darling… you’ve heard one, you’ve heard them all, isn’t that right, love?”

“That’s right, ‘love’,” she corrects herself.

You can tell that Marie’s afraid of him. You can see it in her eyes, plain as day, but for some reason, as soon as Klaus looks at you, you hear a voice in your head telling you not to fear him. It calms your nerves and reassures you that her trepidation is unfounded, telling you that you can trust him with your life. It’s a new, very odd feeling that makes the knot in your stomach seem to unravel and disappear entirely without much of an explanation at all.

————————————————

“I was right about you, wasn’t I? You’re a believer.” Klaus glances over at you knowingly as you lead him through the quarter toward your apartment. Although his tone is light and flirty, his eyes are very serious.

“A believer? What happened to me being morbidly disturbed?” You vaguely remember the three cards Marie had given you, but decide not to focus on them for now. Instead you decide to focus on how closely his hand brushes against yours with each stride, how electric it makes you feel as he walks beside you.

“I don’t see why the two can’t coexist within that beautiful body of yours.” He raises an eyebrow as his pinky finger hooks in between your thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of warmth up your spine. “As your benefactor and mentor, I find it my duty to inform you of the dangers that lurk in the darkest corners of this city, witches being one of them.”

“Witchcraft is real?” You ask point blank, cutting through any witty banter you might otherwise throw his way.

“Oh, I’m afraid so, love. Every story you’ve ever heard hushed whispers of, every suspicious tradition carried on by the locals, every legend of lore uttered by a tour guide…they’re all true. It’s a way of hiding in plain sight. They get to practice their way of life while the tourists are none the wiser. It’s a pretty convenient arrangement, really.”

“And you know all this, how?” Your heart skips a beat as he speaks so plainly about the supernatural presence in this city, giving you hope that you’ve found a like-minded person. You’ve always suspected that the stories were true, but never talked about it with anyone this openly.

“Oh, I’ve lived here for centuries,” he exaggerates with a cocky glare. “But it won’t take you that long to notice all the magic that’s in this city, to see just how dangerous it can be for someone like you.”

“Someone like me? What does that mean? Every city is dangerous, Klaus.” You take his warning with a grain of salt, but you still heed it, keeping his words in the back of your head and saving them for later. “And what do you mean, my mentor?” You allow him to take hold of your hand completely, wrapping his fingers around it with a squeeze.

“Did I fail to mention that I’m a painter, as well?” He laughs as you turn a corner on the sidewalk, your apartment building just a few doors down now. “It must have slipped my mind the moment I saw you and your work.” He gives you a beguiling smirk, his lips flushing a light rosy hue. “You were both so enchanting.”

“Really?” You smile at his confession, blushing at his compliment. “What do you paint?” That smirk of his suggests that he feels the growing warmth that’s spreading all over your chest and neck as it slowly makes its way into your core, that maybe he’s been feeling it all along.

“I tend to focus a bit more on abstract ideas, landscapes, skylines, things like that. Painting for me is a way to… clear my head when I need to escape, but it’s nothing as political or bold as your work.” He pauses, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. “That being said, with the right funding and guidance, I think yours could be astoundingly better.”

“Better?” You try not to sound offended, but his words cut like a knife as you arrive at your doorstep, steeping in the awkward silence before he speaks again.

Does he even like your artwork at all?

“Oh, don’t be cross with me, love.” He releases your hand and slowly turns toward you, plating both palms over your hair to better look into your eyes. “The things I could show you if only you’d let me into your mind, into your creative process, in here,” he presses his middle and forefinger against your chest, pointing at your heart as he brings his face closer to yours. “I could help you discover so many new things, teach you techniques you haven’t even dreamed of, make you see stars brighter than the hottest summer’s day.”

Is he still talking about art?

His words fan that warmth inside you into a spark, unable to stop your body’s chemical reaction to his touch or the hypnotic sound of his velvety voice. You know deep down that something that burns this hot can’t possibly keep you alight for very long, but like a moth to the flame, you can’t help but be drawn to the fire within him. It’s been so long since you’ve allowed yourself to be consumed by anyone else’s madness, to be engulfed by their passion, but if this is what burns you down to mere embers, then so be it.

“I can do that.” You nod, eyelids fluttering as his lips feather over yours, parting ever so slightly before you decide to stand on your tiptoes and kiss him.

He tastes just as good as he smells, the faint flavor of whiskey and copper parting your lips as you breathe in his citrusy scent, committing it to memory. You moan as his tongue clashes against yours, exciting every neuron in your body as your hands end up in his dirty blonde curls, tugging and pulling him in even closer to you. You can feel his breath quicken as his chest rises and falls against yours, his hands mapping out every inch of your neck and shoulders as he greedily sucks your bottom lip between his teeth. Step by step, he walks you backward against the wall, his hips needily pinning you in place as his kiss greedily deepens to the point of breaking your skin.

You gasp as he pulls back just enough for you to notice your blood on his lip, his eyes seeming to darken with desire before he languidly licks it off, looking you in the eye to see how you’ll react.

Your eyes widen, uncertain if you’re actually witnessing what you think you are. Did he just bite down hard enough to draw blood and then… lick it?

He holds onto you with that wanton stare, watching the wheels turn inside your head as you try to register what’s happening. He tilts his head to the side to see if fear or disgust will override your carnal desire for him before he gently brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the rest of your blood. The salt of his skin stings your exposed tissue as he tugs it downward before bringing it up to his own mouth to taste.

“Klaus,” you start, the pain in your lip barely outweighing your need to keep kissing him.

The sight of your blood on his lips somehow triggers something deep within you, something he already knew was there from the very second he laid eyes on you. Like some kind of dark and twisted Manchurian Candidate, he knew exactly how to draw it out of you, how to give you just enough to make you want a little bit more. How did he know something about you that you didn’t even know about yourself?

He merely grins in response, sucking his bloodstained thumb as he keeps those enchanting eyes of his locked onto yours. “I look forward to mentoring you, love.”

[sturnslutz]

i fucking hate you.

it was never supposed to be like this.

its always been you and the triplets. but, the one thing everyone knew, was that you and matt hated each other. and that was never going to fucking change. rude words getting thrown back and forth, screaming, crying, you name it. it's happened between matt and you. (besides the crying part. that only happens when you're alone.)

nick was your best friend since 7th grade when you accidentally spilled the pink paint all over his shirt in art, and he laughed it off. after that day, you guys were best friends. soon after, he introduced you to his brothers, chris and matt. chris and you got along very quickly as he was super extroverted and so were you. you guys were basically the same person.

with matt, it was the opposite. unfortunately, the first day you actually met him and chris was at their house and you (coincidently) spilled your water all over him. he didn't take it like nick did, no. he knew he was going to fucking hate you.

since that day, even while you're a freshman in college, its been non stop arguing.

the triplets' career quickly boomed for them their senior year and their fans knew you as the occasional guest for the video. so, after you all graduated, you already had plans of attending boston college while they had none.

sooner or later, they moved to la, and nick and chris promised to stay close to you. matt on the other hand... not so much. in your eyes, he didnt fucking care one bit, which was also what he tried convincing himself. your last day together was one like any other. a final argument before they finally let. but, it ended in matt saying "i fucking hate you." before leaving and slamming the door on his way out.

thats what you guys left on for 9 months. sure, they visited somerville at times but you were always busy with school and never could see them until you were finally on a break and nick invited you to come to la to see them.

he bought your plane ticket the next day, and you flew to la and had plans of staying for 3 days. matt was obviously informed but didn't pay much mind to it. but inside, he was reeling. almost every time nick or chris (or both of them) were on facetime with you and they were on the main floor and matt was in his room, he was jerking himself off thinking of you and your voice. but he wouldn't tell anyone that, ever.

anyways, the day of you arriving he coincidentally cleaned his entire room and made nick and chris clean theirs too, and when questioned, he quickly dismissed it as wanting it to be clean for no reason (???)

when you come, nick and chris take you out for dinner, go shopping and come home while matt has been in his room, sulking. right when the 3 of you come home and nick and chris go to their rooms to get changed, you're met with matt in the kitchen with his airpods in.

you throw your empty plastic water bottle at him, getting his attention. "what the fuck- oh. its you." "yeah, nice seeing you too, matthew. always a pleasure." he nods and sends a sarcastic smile before turning back around to the refrigerator. "we got you food." you say trying to regain his attention again. "already ate." "ain't seem like it if you're scavenging through the fucking fridge like something gonna pop up when all yall got is fucking 10,000 cases of soda."

he turns around, shutting the fridge. "you got a problem with our house?" you shake your head no as he push his food to him from across the table. "nope. just questioning the sugar intake." "its mostly chris's shit." he says responding to your remark while opening the plastic bag to see what you got for him and when he's pleased with what he sees, he nods slightly, closing the box again.

you nod and turn around, setting your bag on the couch. "you got a place to sleep tonight? i mean room wise." he says not moving from his spot in the kitchen. "um no, i was just thinking about sleeping on the couch." you say, slightly surprised you guys were speaking so calmly.

"it gets fucking freezing here at night and in nick and chris's room and mine's basically the only one with proper heating. your choice, i guess." he mutters the last part while opening the box again and grabbing a fork. "is matthew asking me to sleep in his room?" you scoff as you turn around in disbelief.

"no. its just a suggestion. fuck, you're so fucking annoying, always twistin' my words n' shit. just forget what i said, freeze your ass off." he says as he scoffs and eats his food, going on his phone in the meantime. "i mean, i get easily cold and i cant sleep well while i am. so like, can i sleep in your room?" he looks up and his eyes examine your face to determine any jokes and eventually nods.

as time passes, you and matt discuss basic rules and to not cross the pillow wall. as you're trying to head to sleep and get ready in matt's bathroom, he suddenly walks in. "what the fuck?" you says muffled as you stop mid-brushing and examine him. "spit that shit out." he says as he closes the door and leans on it, staring at you.

you brush around once more and spit out the toothpaste and rinse your mouth out before turning around to matt. "yes?' without another word, he swiftly leans in and kisses your lips, leaning you back in the sink behind you.

you gasp against his lips before quickly reciprocating the kiss and reaching your arms around his neck. he makes his way down to your neck as you finally come to your sense, somewhat. "matt what are you-" "just shut up." he says, once again silencing you as he kisses you again. "needed- this- so- fucking bad." he says through kisses and your tongues intertwine.

he eventually pulls away, his forehead leaning on yours as his hands are at your sides, gripping the sink, his knuckles almost turning white. his blue eyes practically stare you down as you guys stand there in silence, processing everything.

"never speak of this, yeah?" he says as he kisses you one last time before opening the door, and swiftly walking out back to his room, leaving you in the bathroom with swollen lips and a very apparent hickey you were still unaware about, and a million questions running through your mind.

@lypsiiii

[jacksgreysays]

(Not sure if I can qualify for another prompt after the last wonderful prompt fill but here goes:

The Academy was perfectly fine with Shikamaru’s imaginary friend Shikako, until she managed to ____.

Oh dona, there are so many things that can fill in that blank. SO MANY THINGS. And, I’ll be honest, a lot of what comes to my mind range from funny to alarming. But the on that I think is the most encompassing—without being too boring—is simply “get caught.” Because that opens up so many opportunities for what else she could have been doing before she got caught in such a way that also builds a dynamic between those who are in on it (ie, the Rookie Nine, maybe even the full Konoha Twelve since Team Gai IS only just one year older) and those who aren’t (presumably the teachers of the Academy) However, in order to narrow this fic down into something writable, I should figure what Shikako is doing before she gets caught… and, maybe this is just me, but I kinda like the idea of… now maybe this is too specific… but basically, Shikamaru’s imaginary friend Shikako, aka his literal sentient eldritch horror twin sister that lives in his shadow, just straight up eating Danzo. Just. How do you get rid of something? Eat it. Because, like… okay. My brain goes something like this:

“Hm,” says Shikamaru as they hide in the treetops from Iruka-sensei.

Normally, Shikamaru is content with being out of the classroom that, outside from telling them the plan needed to ditch and stay hidden, he stays pretty quiet either cloud watching or napping.

Chouji, in his spot next to Shikamaru and equally satisfied with just being outside, is the only one to hear him. “What is it?” He asks.

That gets Kiba and Naruto to perk up, starting to get bored after their flawless escape with minimal conflict.

“Shikako says she’s hungry.”

Good friend that he is, Chouji offers some of his chips. A tendril of Shikamaru’s shadow shakily takes one, wobbling even under that weight, but Shikako is also a good friend so she eats it.

Well. She tries, anyway. Shikamaru’s shadow curls around it, mimicking a chewing motion, but it remains unchanged.

After a moment, Shikamaru reports, “Shikako says thank you, but she might need to eat something else specifically?”

Naruto, ever curious asks, “What does a shadow even eat?”

Shikamaru shrugs. “She says she’ll know it when we find it.”

Kiba, and an Akamaru squirming with eagerness, declares, “Akamaru and I are the best and finding stuff. We’ll get it in no time.”

—

Iruka-sensei finds them before they find the ambiguous “it.”

To be fair, they were searching through the refrigerator in the teacher’s lounge, and their self assigned mission had carried them through to lunch time. So really it was their own fault.

Didn’t stop Naruto, Kiba, and Akamaru from yelling and howling up a storm as Iruka-sensei grabbed the two boys by the collars of their shirts. Mizuki-sensei at least just gestured his two charges forward, trusting that Shikamaru and Chouji would cooperate since they had been caught fair and square. And plus, it was lunch time.

Distracted as they were, none of the boys noticed Shikamaru’s shadow stretch itself to connect to Mizuki-sensei’s.

Without that context, none of them made the connection when, not even a minute later, Mizuki-sensei stumbled, nearly falling, before catching himself in an uncertain stance.

“You okay?” Iruka-sensei asked, caregiving nature winning over his desire to continue lecturing the boys.

Mizuki-sensei waved him off with a strained laugh, “Ha, I just felt a little tired—midday slump, probably.”

Kiba and Naruto, sensing weakness, re-aim their efforts from complaining to making fun of Mizuki-sensei’s age. It draws his ire, never mind that he tries to seem cooler than Iruka-sensei, but he musters a woozy, half-hearted defense at best.

Shikamaru glances at his shadow, darker and deeper than it was before.

Shikako isn’t as hungry anymore.

—

A/N: And then something something Ino and Sakura spot the boys questing for Shikako’s food and they also believe in/like Shikako anyway so they try to help out, Shino gets pulled in because they end up on Aburame territory and he’s holding his smiling baby sister and his untouchable vibes are way lowered, at some point they’re like… maybe Hinata can use her cool eyes to FIND what Shikako needs (and she’s stalking Naruto anyway so we might as well actively include her) and then Sasuke kind of feels left out ALTHOUGH… I may have a separate thing for how Sasuke gets pulled in. Anyway the kids try to figure out what she’s doing—she doesn’t eat chakra, she eats life energy, but only out of people that she wants to kill anyway and the amount she eats from them is maybe based on how much she wants to kill them? (she really does almost eat Kabuto to death the first time they encounter him lol)—and they’re like… well… we also don’t like the people Shikako doesn’t like anyway? Here’s where plot maybe comes in and maybe where Sasuke gets pulled in but basically if this is pre-Uchiha Massacre then there could be a day when Itachi goes to pick up the little Uchiha members from the Academy and Shikako is just like ??? DO I want to kill and eat him??? because he hasn’t done anything (YET) so it’s just like… the rest of the kids investigating into Sasuke to investigate into Itachi which then somehow Scooby Doo style gets them to Danzo and MAYBE he’s being a creeper and visiting the Academy to recruit future ROOT agents or MAYBE the Academy building is near the Hokage’s Tower (I think???) or Shisui and Itachi are BOTH picking up the various Uchiha Academy students and Danzo tries to use the opportunity to intimidate/threaten them both “subtly” and Shikako’s just like !!!!! FEAST MODE!!!! And fully just eldritch style swallows him whole in front of some Academy teachers :) And it’s not like Shikamaru can get in trouble because he’s BEEN telling the truth about his imaginary friend Shikako the whole time. And as far as they know it LOOKS like a Nara clan technique so they’re like… well… uh… maybe we should tell the Jounin Commander about this. And Shikaku’s just like… uh… Kasuga… what the fuck… And Kasuga turns to Sembei-obaasan and also asks what the fuck… And Sembei-obaasan has to search deep deep into the Nara oral tradition for what the fuck is going on And Shikako is just in Shikamaru’s shadow, totally pleased with herself. I’m not hungry anymore :)

[darshy]

pretty, pt. 2

some of the formatting on this is screwed, i know, it’s just a struggle adjusting things on a phone ):

n e way, enjoy!!

Megumi Fushiguro didn’t hate Satoru Gojo—at first. It was more of a simmering annoyance, something bubbling under his skin, threatening to slip out and crash. Nothing too dramatic. Tsumiki liked the man enough so it caused Megumi to tolerate him. 

“After all, he saved us. Imagine where we’d be now without him!”

Before his sister said that, Megumi uttered his first curse word in relation to Gojo.

And, after living with the man for about two months, an anomaly occurred. Typically, Gojo would be absent for about a week. He’d say, “I’m just checking on something!” or “I’ve got a long mission—I’ll be back before you know it!”

Now, he’s been gone for a month.

Not that it really matters; the two siblings have a roof over their head and a surplus of food. It’s not their business to be in Gojo’s business.

It’s not Megumi’s business to be in Gojo’s business. 

There’s a creak in the house at two AM. The only creak in this house is located in the kitchen, right in front of the refrigerator. Megumi only knows this because he was tasked—by Gojo—to find every creak in a building as a survival tactic. Just in case he was kidnapped.

Or, if he wanted to sneak some food in the middle of the night. Doesn’t really matter the situation.

Megumi blinks and attempts to wipe the sleep from his eyes. The sound was minor, could easily pass as a tree scratching a window, but Megumi’s gut is twisting. It couldn’t be Tsumiki, she never gets up at night, and it couldn’t be Gojo because he always arrives back in the mornings.

So who is it?

He waddles to his bedroom door, toes twitching against the cold, wood floors. He presses on the lock, satisfied to hear a gentle click. Then, he pushes the door open. It reveals a dark hallway with several other doors in its walls. Tsumiki is just a few doors down to the left and Gojo’s room is the last room on the right. Megumi’s stomach churns as he looks to Gojo’s door.

‘Ugh, it’s so ominous…’

He pushes through anyway. The floor is smooth against his feet as he slowly makes his way down the house. Just as he reaches the middle of the staircase leading downstairs, he hears a murmur. Alarm rings through his mind and his hands shake.

What should he do? Is this an intruder? Should he leave and take Tsumiki with him? Call Gojo? Fight? His technique isn’t very refined—Gojo has been so busy lately that he wasn’t any help—and he’s never actually fought before. He could call for 911 too…

What should he do?

The murmuring gets louder, more audible. Megumi strains to hear from his spot, frozen, too scared to go up but still too scared to go down.

”M’gon’ kill that—- —watch him choke— -“

Megumi leans closer by holding onto the handrail of the staircase while praying that it doesn’t create a creak of its own.

”..she’s…mine. Mine.

“—Megumi, ah, why are you awake?”

Megumi holds his breath as he stumbles down the stairs. He, surprisingly, doesn’t feel the harsh impact of the ground against his bones. Instead, there’s a feeling of warmth and the smell of a girl. Megumi pulls away immediately. He’s quick to mask his face of fear, and instead, replaces it with a glare and a sneer. “Gojo? Why are you here?”

”Am I not allowed in my own house?” His smile is slow going, just a bit wobbly, and rather empty-looking. 

Megumi jerks back even further. “Are you drunk?”

“A question answered by three other questions,” Gojo says with the bark of a laugh. His breath smells weird. Obviously there’s the stench of alcohol but there’s something else there. Lingering. 

Stinking.

”You smell,” Megumi mutters. Gojo blinks down at him. “You’re stinking up the air,” he says a bit louder while conscious of Tsumiki’s gentle snoring. Gojo grins again.

”And you’re drunk. Why are you drunk? I’ve never seen you drink.”

”Awh! Am I worrying you, Megumi-chan? But don’t worry—I’m an adult, so I can do adult things like this.” Megumi cringes at the honorific and cringes even more so at Gojo’s use of ‘adult.’

”There’s no kind of adult in you.”

”..okay! Time for bed!”

Gojo swipes up Megumi and quickly warps the two into the boy’s bedroom. Megumi’s stomach churns and he wants to puke.

But underneath all the smells of alcohol, there’s a twinge of floral essence. It smells like the shampoo and perfume that Tsumiki uses. It smells like a girl.

Megumi opens his mouth to ask another question but then Gojo is gone.

“Why were you awake last night?” Gojo asks as Megumi pours cereal into a bowl. Tsumiki blinks between the two of them, her mouth full.

”I was thirsty,” Megumi says lowly and glances up to his adopted father. Gojo has dark circles under his eyes and his hair is a bit messy.

“I’m glad I didn’t wake you.” His breath permeates the air; now the aroma of mint and toothpaste. His eyes twinkle and Megumi knows that he saw through the lie.

Change is a constant in life. It’s so much of a constant that Megumi is accustomed to it. A new school, a new bed, a new life…

It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t hate change, because he hates change. 

He hates coming home to tiny little curses wriggling about. He hates the new craze in Gojo’s eyes. He hates how the hallways are dark at night. He hates the muffled noise coming from Gojo’s room.

He doesn’t necessarily mind the new smell that tangles with Gojo’s cologne.

He still hates change.

Megumi wakes up at five in the morning. His stomach is killing him. It’s twisting and knotting and spinning.

He moves to the hallway bathroom and is surprised to see the light on, shining beneath the door. Gojo is gone again and Tsumiki never wakes up at night.

”Tsumiki,” he calls gently, holding his stomach. She doesn’t reply.

”Tsumiki, please let me in.”

Silence.

”…Tsumiki?”

There’s a shift of a shadow, a disturbance to the light. Megumi recoils quickly and nearly smacks his head against the picture frame behind him. His stomach rolls.

He decides to use the bathroom downstairs, unnerved.

Tsumiki closes the front door behind them. The heat is nearly unbearable so the siblings scramble to remove their socks and shoes. Soon, they lay against the cool tile floors of the kitchen. Tsumiki is looking at Megumi and Megumi is looking at the ceiling.

”It’s hot,” she groans. Megumi nods in agreement. Both of their faces are flushed feverishly. Megumi wants to take a nap against the tiles so he slowly closes his eyes.

”Hey, wanna get some popsicles?”

Megumi opens his eyes. “Yeah.”

The two stand up. Just as Megumi reaches for his sandals, Tsumiki stops him, “I’ll go—I have the money.” For proof, she takes her pocket in hand and shakes it. Change jingles loudly.

”Huh?”

”I’m gonna go. By myself. Just tell me what you want.”

Megumi’s eyebrow twitches. “But I wanna go too.”

”Just tell me what you want.”

”…fine.” Megumi proceeds to babble about a specific ice cream before Tsumiki takes off. The last words to leave her lips are: “Don’t forget to lock the door!” He dutifully follows—turning three locks until they click—but is then faced by another obstacle: boredom. He doesn’t have homework assigned and he doesn’t really have any chores that needed to be done.

Megumi lays against the tiles again. He sweats, heating the cold surface up, so he slides to another section of the floor. He repeats this three times until there’s dirt and mini pebbles sticking to his cheeks. Tsumiki is not back yet.

The boy makes his way up the stairs and into his room. He can probably find something remotely interesting inside but—oh.

Megumi pauses. His hand that was raised to open the door falls to his side.

Gojo’s room is making noises. It’s scratching and crying, almost like a sound for help. Megumi eyes the door with a tilted head. He takes a step forward and then he hears it.

Pleading.

Megumi’s guts twist and his fingers flex. He’s struggling to breathe and he’s reminded of Tsumiki’s words of “In through your nose and out through your mouth.” It’s not enough.

He staggers backwards. The noises get that much louder with a few more scratches and a few more sobs. Megumi is torn between investigating and leaving.

He chooses to depart. He moves back to the top of the stairs, grasping the handrails so tight they’ll leave marks in his palms.

—but what if this is urgent?

Megumi blinks and squeezes the handrail again and doesn’t take any further steps.

What if they need help?

He turns back to the door. His mind is full of slush and he’s hot and sticky and he just wants Tsumiki to come back with a bag full of popsicles and ice creams.

What if Gojo is hiding something?

He places his hand on the doorknob. He’s shaking. The scratches have subsided but Megumi can clearly hear a sniffle every few seconds.

The knob doesn’t turn. The door is locked.

What is Gojo hiding?

Megumi squats. He presses his face against the floor and peers into the thin crack under Gojo’s door. A single eye and bloodied finger tips stare back at him.

He screams and screams and screams and runs to the bathroom to puke.

Who is Gojo hiding?

”Megumi! I’m back!” Tsumiki calls from the front door. “And guess who I found!” She doesn’t explicitly say who and, unfortunately, the response she receives is silence.

Then, there’s loud crying.

”Ah—Megumi!” Tsumiki hurries up the stairs with Gojo right behind her. The two find Megumi hunched over the toilet, heaving and hacking. Gojo approaches with open arms, a frown on his face. 

“Megumi? What happened?”

Gojo barely grazes Megumi’s shoulder before he’s shoved away. Megumi’s glaring and sobbing. Tsumiki parts her mouth in shock—Gojo tenses up right beside her.

As Tsumiki leans in to coddle her brother, Gojo stands, watching, eyes wide and fists clenching.

What did he see?

Megumi gasps for air as he’s slammed into the fighting mattress. Gojo stands above him, a simple smile on his face. It doesn’t look real.

”I told you to bend your knees more,” Gojo says with a patronizing tone, “If you had, maybe you wouldn’t have fallen.”

That’s a lie. Gojo would have pushed him down anyway, it doesn’t matter how much force he would of had to use.

“I just… I want to learn my technique more,” Megumi says lowly. He claws at a rip in the mattress. Slowly, fluff crawls out of it. Gojo wipes it away with his foot. Megumi huffs.

”To master a technique, you need to learn basic fighting. How else did you think I became this great?” Gojo laughs obnoxiously and Megumi doesn’t feel a tug of his lips or a happy beat of his heart or anything. It’s all been stowed away since he discovered the person trapped in Gojo’s room. If that’s even a person.

Obviously, Megumi has attempted to open Gojo’s room for a while yet. The time windows have been small, unfortunately. Gojo has stayed home for a while now—the scheduling of his missions have gotten more and more bleak. As if the higher ups don’t need him. As if there are less and less curses.

That will never be true.

And besides, Megumi shouldn’t be so worried about it anyway. He could just be seeing things, or it’s some kind a curse that Gojo just wants to specifically torture. (And, even at that, Megumi’s not sure if the thing is being tortured. He’s not even sure as to what happens in that room.)

”—despite the challenges, which you’ll go through by the way, you’ll always come out on top because you have me, Megumi! Oh, and… Hey! Are you listening?”

”No,” Megumi replies before he spots a fist coming right for his forehead.

Megumi watches the two dogs zip around each other. They nip and preen and jump and yap. Their furs brush and mix and it’s pretty to look at.

Tsumiki watches too. She sits next to Megumi, playing in the grass with her toes. Leaves are falling and snow will be arriving soon, but Tsumiki is comfortable going around barefoot and wearing shorts and a tank top.

“Is it a lot of work?” she asks, “To make them play, I mean.”

Megumi shrugs. The dogs freeze for a second, a moment of stillness, but then they’re back to enjoying life.

“Well—at least it’s nice to see.”

Megumi agrees. He doesn’t say that aloud.

Gojo has a girlfriend. She smells a little like Tsumiki.

She’s sitting next to him at the table, hands in her lap, head swirled in his direction. Tsumiki admires her a lot. Megumi shifts uncomfortably in his seat as Gojo spoon feeds her. Under the blindfold, Megumi can imagine the heart eyes.

Later, the couple settle onto the couch, deciding to watch a movie. Tsumiki and Megumi are instructed to go to bed.

”Megumi…!” Tsumiki hisses when Megumi stops at the top of the stairs. “Gojo told us to go to sleep. I don’t want to be in trouble because you’re caught watching TV!”

”She’s wearing gloves, Tsumiki.”

”Huh?”

”She’s wearing gloves inside.”

”Well it’s fall and maybe she runs cold,” Tsumiki says, leaning against a nearby wall. “Or, maybe, she doesn’t have her nails done.” Tsumiki sighs dreamily. “She really is perfect.”

Megumi’s eyebrow ticks. “Ew.” He turns back to look down the staircase. 

Gojo’s standing there, hands on his hips. His lips are puckered in a pouting way. “I said go to bed!!”

Tsumiki laughs.

Megumi’s up in the dead of night.

He makes his way to Gojo’s room with expectations of the sounds of creaking and moaning and crying.

There’s nothing—even as he crouches to peer under the crack of the door, whispering back, promising to help this time.

There’s nothing but faint scratch marks on the floor.

The girlfriend—you—has been around more often. Sometimes it’s babysitting while Gojo is gone (which, by the way, the siblings have never had a babysitter before, as per Gojo’s terrible parenting skills), but most of the time it’s while Gojo is around. The two of you stay in the bedroom for a majority of the visit, so Tsumiki clings to Megumi until you come out.

Currently, this is a babysitting scenario. Gojo’s been gone for two weeks and you’ve been doing your due diligence for the kids. Cooking, cleaning, and playing house seem to be your specialty.

”You’d be a great mom,” Tsumiki says. Megumi physically flinches and you pause your mindless surfing on the TV. You’re still wearing gloves.

“Oh, you think?” you ask rather awkwardly. Tsumiki nods.

”I’m just waiting for the day Gojo proposes.”

Megumi pops his mouth open, to tell Tsumiki to knock it off or something but then she stands up and announces that she will grab some snacks.

Megumi’s eyes immediately find yours after that. “I’m sorry. I…don’t know why she said that.” He feels miffed.

”It’s okay,” you smile gently. It appears that you want to say more but then stop. You curl into the side of the couch, on the complete opposite side of Megumi. You look almost sad, like something is missing in your eyes.

”You don’t have to stay here, you know,” Megumi says and you blink up at him. “I know that Gojo can be a bit pushy—“ he’s under exaggerating— “but he can’t boss you around or anything. You guys haven’t known each other for that long, right?”

Your lips part and just like before, you stop. It’s frustrating watching you pause and struggle by simply not saying what you want to say. Then it’s awkward when your eyes dart up to the clock, waiting for your cue to shout I should head home now!

And just as Megumi gives up, slinking into his side of the couch, face pressed against the armrest, you talk.

”Satoru told me what you guys have been through—so don’t think I’m upset about Tsumiki. I honestly thought it was kinda funny.” You grin a little and Megumi pouts back.

”She still shouldn’t have said that.”

”It’s whatever.” You shrug but still grin and there’s a sparkle in your eyes that is similar to Tsumiki’s. Oh. That’s what was missing in you. That’s probably what made Gojo fall for you.

You’re really nice looking.

Megumi’s face warms. He distracts himself by looking at your gloved hands. Like clockwork, you hide them in your lap, with an uncomfortable look on your face.

”I’ve, um, known Satoru my whole life,” you blurt. Megumi realizes that you don’t want him to question the gloves. “He would visit the US during his holidays and he would find me.”

Megumi leans in and curiously questions, “Find you?”

”Because he wanted me—us—to live here, in Japan, together,” you say and the sparkle leaves your eyes. You’re not so pretty anymore. “And guess what happened.”

You and Gojo must have broken up. The teacher has been disturbed lately. He screams and breaks everything in his sight and he almost appears to lose control. (Of course, this is while the kids are—supposedly—sleeping. He wouldn’t dare show unruly behavior to growing and easily-influenced children!)

Thankfully, he doesn’t lose control, less Megumi be six feet underground.

And Megumi isn’t sad. Your absence doesn’t make his heart heavy. Doesn’t make him want to cry and throw things too because that’s how Gojo does it and Megumi isn’t him. Megumi is simply Megumi. He doesn’t want you back like Gojo does. He’d just appreciate it if you visited once in a while. It would help the broken plates. It would help with the increased amount of curses.

“Sensei.”

”Sensei.”

”No Megumi! Sensei.” Gojo corrects.

”That’s what I’m saying!” Megumi groans. “It’s not like I’ve never said this before. I literally go to school, Gojo.”

”You mean sensei,” Gojo says with a sly smile. Megumi groans again.

He’s growing up. It feels slow, like each day is dragging by. It doesn’t help that Tsumiki has fallen ill, even to the point of bedriddenness. But it’s okay. Because Megumi is growing and he’s going to fix her.

He’s going to fix everything.

“Geto Suguru.” Megumi looks up to his soon-to-be teacher. “You knew him?”

Gojo shifts uncomfortably. “He was my best friend! And now I have to kill him.”

”Oh,” Megumi utters because there’s nothing else to say. He looks back down to the sheet. He squints at a near familiar name. Shoko Ieiri. Megumi taps the small picture of her. Gojo grins.

”Another friend. I don’t have to kill her.”

”Oh,” he utters again, because there’s still nothing to say.

Just before school starts, just before Gojo officially becomes Megumi’s teacher, you’re back. Standing in a pretty outfit, beaming at the two from inside Gojo’s home. Megumi stiffens and attempts to meet Gojo’s eyes. His attempts are ignored in favor of you, however.

The two make it inside. They’re sweating, at least Megumi is, from the relentless practice. And he wants to ask what you’re doing here. Why you’ve shown up out of the blue in a pretty outfit, smelling a bit like Tsumiki and not wearing gloves at all. 

He’s going to ask but then you place food in front of the two and Megumi can’t say no to this.

So he eats. 

There’s comfortable conversation for you and Gojo. It’s weird not having Tsumiki sitting next to him, whispering, prying. She would be waiting for you to finish. She’d wait and wait and wait.

Megumi keeps eating. His mind feels like it’s running a little slow.

”Of course I would, Satoru… Why do you think I’m here?” You say while smiling. It looks weird.

”For me.” Gojo’s smiling too. His is easier to decode than yours. It’s a simple cypher: right corner of his mouth is a bit down and his front teeth are gnawing into the flesh. He’s not upset but maybe a bit annoyed at… something. Megumi’s not so sure. The teacher always carries a look like that when Megumi misplaces his foot. Or when the teen is up at night, creeping into the halls.

Just as Megumi’s head droops, his forehead hovering right above the countertop, he hears you gasp. Blearily, he looks to his two elders. Gojo’s hand is clutched around a wrist you’re attempting to tug back. The teacher’s face is bright red with his glasses slipping down his nose sloppily. “Satoru…!” you whine and pull back.

It’s terrifying how quickly Gojo leaps across the counter to get to you.

Megumi closes his eyes.

Itadori is a mess. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t even be alive.

He shouldn’t be in Megumi’s dorm room, but he is, and he’s poking and prodding around. He says things like: “Woah Fushiguro!! What is this?!” and it’s a book about psychology. When Itadori began to open Megumi’s drawers, a pillow was thrown to his head.

“Ahhh Fushiguro, your room is so clean… Where’s all the posters?” Itadori asks. He’s peering over Megumi’s shoulder. Math homework peer right back at him.

”What posters?” Megumi attempts to shrug the other away. Itadori stays and gestures around the room. “You know, like, really hot girls in bikinis! And big butts! Like Jennifer Lawrence.”

Megumi’s face turns red. “Hell no!” And he finally swats Itadori away.

Megumi resumes his work for a few minutes longer before looking over to Itadori. He’s, again, snooping around. Megumi’s eyebrow ticks. “Put that down.” Itadori’s holding a picture frame before flipping it to green eyes. ”Who is this? Your mom or something?”

Soon-to-be. Right. Gojo and you are engaged. Have been for about a month. The wedding will happen in about three weeks from now.

Feigning boredom, Megumi looks back to his papers. “Gojo-sensei hasn’t told you about her yet? I figured he would blab about her every second he could,” he mutters. Itadori appears a bit skittish after hearing that.

”I mean, he talks about his fiancée…”

”Yeah.”

”Oh… OH!” Itadori jumps up and Megumi can practically see the cogwheels turning in his head. “So she will be your mom! Wow, okay!” Itadori turns back to the picture frame. Suddenly, a mouth manifests out of Itadori’s cheek and laughs.

”I’m sure she’ll make a great meal!”

Megumi barely suppresses the punch heading for Itadori’s face.

A runaway bride is what you are. Fleeing the night before the wedding.

Gojo has held a stifling quiet for the past 32 hours. His eyes are dull. Megumi wants to reach out and offer some sort of comfort. Instead, he says simply, “It’s probably just some misunderstanding.”

Gojo doesn’t look up. Doesn’t react, doesn’t move, and Megumi would think that he were dead if not for the gentle rising and falling of his chest.

”I’m tired of her running away,” Gojo says after a pregnant pause. “I know what she wants and she knows what I want. It’s not like I’m going to kill her.”

Megumi’s stomach rolls and it reminds him of being a kid, sneaking around and trying to get into Gojo’s room because he thinks someone’s trapped in there. It’s silly, looking back on it, but his stomach is rolling all the same again.

He makes his way back to the school. He dreams of his warm bed and warm shower and warm clothes. He’s tired of the fighting. He’s tired of Tsumiki not waking up and nagging him. He’s tired of the looks of his friends, each exhausted and on the brink of death after each mission. He’s tired of it all.

As Megumi passes a local store, he smells something like Tsumiki. Floral-ish, like flowers, like how most girls smell. It smells nice and comforting and like you.

He turns to the store. His heart seems to stop in his chest and his mouth dries.

You notice him back. Your eyes lock with wide green ones.

Megumi is right in front of you in half a second. His arms are stretched wide, a hugging gesture, but you don’t take it. You shuffle, holding a wrinkled bag in your hands. Megumi drops his arms.

”Hi,” he whispers. He doesn’t know if you’re real or if it’s just the hysteria creeping into him. He wants to touch and feel, maybe poke and prod while he’s at it. You look like you, but are you really? You smell like you, but is this fake lying?

”Hi Megumi,” you whisper back and Megumi hugs you. You’re stiff (and you shouldn’t be) but you manage to wrap your arms around his middle. Your hair tickles his mouth and he just hugs you closer.

”I missed you so much,” he says into the top of your head. He pauses for a moment to inhale. You tense up like you’re waiting for bad news—and for good reason. Gojo-sensei has been in his quiet, anger mood for far too long. Megumi can’t wait for it to end.

“We want you back home.” He inhales your scent again. Sweet. Comforting. Home.

”I know,” you say into his jacket. (Despair.)

[hearts4hughes]

Congratulations on 500!! I’m just spit balling here but can you please write something with jealous/protective jack. Like maybe the reader and the other boys were mucking around at like a lake house or something and maybe picking the reader up and throwing them in the water and jacks not happy about it maybe with the promt"no way.... you're actually jealous."

nora’s 500 celly !!

-

“put me down, trevor!” you screeched as he picked you up and walked to the edge of the dock. unfortunately, your protests were ignored as he threw you into the water, jumping in right after you.

when you surfaced, you felt trevor’s arms snake around your body. his wheezy laugh filled your ears and you relaxed into his body.

anything between you and trevor was strictly platonic. his personality was outgoing and flirty, and it always has been. when you first met him, you thought he had a crush on you because of the buckets of compliments and flirty remarks you had gotten from him. but after that, you realized that was just his humor, and you never thought of him as anything more than a friend.

however, you do have a huge crush on one of his close friends, jack. jack is a brunette, hockey player, with amazing charm. almost everything about him screamed boyfriend material, and because of that, you were infatuated with him.

jack watched from afar as trevor clung to your body. jealousy ran through his veins. why was he so close to you? we’re you guys more than friends? did you like him? did trevor like you?

with a huff, he raises to his feet, “i’m going to grab a drink.” his voice was sharp and annoyed. you turn around to trevor with furrowed brows. he wears the same expression.

��what was that about?” he asks, causing you to shrug. you untangle yourself from trevor and swim over to the dock.

“i’m going to go see if he’s ok.” you say, placing both arms on the wooden dock and hoisting yourself up. you grab a towel, barely bothering to dry off before racing into the house after jack.

“jack?” you open the glass door to an oddly quiet house. he hums in response and closes the refrigerator door with a beer in hand. “is everything ok?”

he nods in reply.

your eyes can’t help but scan his shirtless body. he’s tense and stiff, but it does wonders for his abs. the slight tan he got made his muscles more defined and your knees nearly buckled at the sight.

he watched as your eyes wandered around his naked torso. a slight smirk took over his lips. “my eyes are up here, baby.” he teases, taking a swig of beer and placing it down.

red paints your cheeks as you quickly change the subject. “you sounded upset outside. are you sure you’re ok?” you ask again, moving closer to him.

he doesn’t say anything but his eyes talk for him. they flutter back and fourth between your lips and your eyes. he blinks rapidly, pulling himself out of whatever trance he was in.

“do you like trevor?” his voice is quiet and his features are soft. “more than a friend, i mean.” he elaborates.

more than a friend? you had thought he had known the relationship dynamic between you and trevor. had he not? why would it matter to him anyway?

then it clicked.

“no way… you’re actually jealous.” you grin.

his eyes enlarge as his breath hitches in his throat. “what- i’m not- i wasn’t-” he sputtered, clearly trying to mask his nerves.

he throws his head back and runs his hands through his hair frustratedly.

“jack, it’s ok. i was just joking.” you reassure. he lets out a sigh of relief in response. “i’ll meet you outside, ok?” you say and turn around to leave the house.

jack wants to confess his feelings for you so bad. he needs to confess everything to you. all these moments and opportunities he’s had, and he continues to chicken out, playing it safe by hiding his true emotions. but not this time.

“y/n, wait.” he grabs your wrist, halting your steps. his touch on your wrist sends sparks shooting up your spine.

slowly, you turn around. once again, being face to face with the love of your life.

“yes?” you reply. you want to guess what he’s about to admit. god, you know exactly what he’s about to admit. however, you push back the storyline created in your head. there’s no way jack hughes was about to confess his feelings to you. that stuff only happens in the movies.

or so you thought.

“i like you a lot.” he admits, removing his hand from your wrist and scratching the back of his neck nervously. “more than friends.”

a weight feels like it’s lifted off of your shoulders when the words leave his lips. you swear you pinched yourself just to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

“you don’t know how long i’ve waited for you to say that.”

[shchristine]

Miami

Pairing: Javier Peña x Former Partner!OFC 

Summary: After six years in Colombia, Javier Peña, Steve Murphy, and their former partner Charlotte Tran have gone their separate ways to establish their lives in different parts of the country. Still clinging on to each other for comfort, the Murphys use Connie’s pregnancy as an excuse to lure Javier and Charlotte to Miami for a weekend of fun before the baby arrives. 

CW: 18+ MDMI, smut, mentions of violence, mentions of PTSD struggles, inaccurate portrayal of becoming a tenured college professor lol

Charlotte’s flight from Seattle to Miami landed late in the night on Tuesday. Almost midnight. She’s surprised when it’s Connie that pulls up in the Murphy's shiny new station wagon, jumping out of the driver’s seat as soon as the car was in park outside of the baggage claim and rushing around to give her a hug. At almost 8 months pregnant, Connie’s protruding stomach pushes into Charlotte’s own as the two embrace each other.

After leaving Colombia, Steve had returned to Miami with Connie where the couple bought a house on the beach and settled into married life comfortably. He still worked for the DEA for the time being, on a much smaller scale than the operation they were involved in during their time in Colombia. And Connie was in full PTA Mom mode now that Olivia had started school. 

“I’m so happy you’re here!” Connie exclaims, rocking their bodies side to side with one last squeeze before letting Charlotte go. 

“I’m so happy to be here! And kind of shocked that Steve had you pick me up this late…” Charlotte trailed off, placing her suitcase in the back seat before closing the door and sliding into the front.

“Oh, he didn’t make me. I was up anyways, the little one has been keeping me up all night kicking lately so I offered. And he needs the rest, he’s been working so much the past few weeks.”

“Typical Steve,” Charlotte mumbles. 

“Oh, I know,” Connie replies with a nonchalant wave of her hand before she looks into the rearview mirror and pulls the car away from the curb, “But he promised to take some time off when the baby gets here and I’m holding him to it. This weekend will be good for him, too. He’s been so excited for you two to get here.”

“When’s Javier getting in?”

- 

“Javi!” Connie throws her arms around the neck of the man standing in the doorway, jumping up and down in excitement to see him. Javier drops his bag, returning the hug by wrapping his own arms around her. “What are you doing here? We’ve been waiting for you to call so we could come pick you up. You didn’t take a cab here, did you?”

“It’s good to see you, Connie,” he replies, laughing as he rubbed her back affectionately. “Yes, I caught a cab.”

“I can’t believe you! They’re so expensive and the traffic is so bad this time of day,” he shrugs in her embrace nonchalantly, “Well, come on now that you’re here.” 

Dropping her arms from around him, she motions for him to follow her into the house. 

“Steve is out on the deck grilling some dinner. He’s going to be beside himself when he sees you,” Connie starts, leading him into the kitchen, “Can I get you a beer before you head out?” 

“A beer sounds great. Did Charlotte make it in yet?”

Connie couldn’t help the mischievous smile that spread across her face as she turned to the refrigerator. 

“Yeah, she’s down on the beach.”

Javier narrows his eyes at the tone of her voice and the small smirk on her face once she turns back to hand him the unopened Budweiser bottle. 

“Don’t start, Connie.” 

She laughs, holding her hands up innocently. “I didn’t say anything! Why don’t you go on, the bottle opener should be out there on the table. I’ll grab your bag and put it in your room, then be out with Olivia in a bit once she’s done with her nap.”

Javier tries to take the bag himself, guilty over the prospect of a pregnant woman taking it instead of doing it himself, but she insists, pushing his hands away when they both bent down to grab at the handle. He concedes, shaking his head at her and making his way over to the sliding glass door that led to the deck at the back of the house.

“There you are!” Steve exclaims as Javier step outside. He puts the large tongs he had been using to flip whatever he was cooking down on the grill before enveloping his former partner in a hug of his own. “I’ve missed you, man.”

“I’ve missed you too, Murphy,” Javier responds, squeezing Steve tightly. 

The pair stand on the deck for some time without interruption. Javier had taken his leather jacket off and slung it over the back of one of the patio chairs. Steve was still cooking and Connie was in the house talking to a now awake and grumpy-sounding Olivia. Javi gazed down the deck to the beach, searching for the only person missing. He saw her in the distance, crouched down in the sand looking for something. His breath catches as she stands, her long hair whipping behind her in the wind, the colorful bikini top and high-waisted denim cutoffs showing off her curves. 

He had been dreaming about her lately, since they finalized their plans to come down to Miami. Dreaming about seeing her again, hearing her laugh, touching her if she would let him. He thought about her when he was shoveling hay in the stables or fixing the fence posts lining the back pasture of the ranch. Thought about her when he laid in bed at night, the dry Texas air drifting into his childhood bedroom through the open window and when he was in the shower, scrubbing off a long day’s work. How long had it been since he had seen her? He had multiple pictures of her that he looked at on a regular basis, his favorites being the one Steve took of the two of them sleeping in the back of a Jeep after a mission in the jungle, the one of her holding baby Olivia a few days after the Murphys had taken her in, smiling big with crinkled eyes at the camera, and the one he took the day he had gotten his camera of her naked body from above laying in his bed, her hands up in an attempt to cover her laughing face. That one he kept ironically tucked in between the pages of the bible he had in his bedside table drawer. But in person, it had been close to three years. She had been with him for a short time in Cali after Steve had gone back to the States, but resigned from the DEA and left Colombia for good when her Mom passed unexpectedly. 

Sandals in one hand and a mysterious object clutched in the other, Charlotte made her way back down to the house, the smell of the almost-ready dinner no doubt beckoning her. She rounds the stairwell that leads up to the deck, stopping to take in the scene at the top. Javier and Steve stand together, chatting, laughing, drinking their beers. The sight brings a wide smile to her face, unshed tears burning her eyes. 

Had the three of them really made it out of Colombia? Certainly not unscathed, but alive none-the-less. She could tell Steve was happy here. The domesticity of the life he and Connie had built suited him. Connie had wanted it so badly for so long, and Steve was finally able to give it to her. Javier was, Javier. He was haunted by the things he had seen and done, as she was. Life in Texas was slower, based on what he had told her during their occasional phone calls. But it was working for him. The transition from the constant high-stress, high-awareness, not knowing if you would live to see tomorrow mentality to a quiet life on the ranch with his father was jarring at first, but he was making the most of it. Charlotte’s post-Colombia life looked quite different. She still couldn’t seem to relax, the bustling city life of Seattle never fully allowing her to take a step back from the edge she had been on for the better part of the past 10 years. She was stuck in a perpetual state of fight or flight after all this time. Javier knew about most of it, they confided their struggles in each other and racked up the long-distance phone charges, having no one else that could really understand the weight of it all. The nightmares, waking up in a cold sweat, dropping a potted plant in the middle of the kitchen one day when the sirens of a police car flew past her apartment. A news channel helicopter filming the Memorial Day parade downtown sending her into the nearest bathroom with labored breaths and shaky hands. She had elected not to tell him about the shoving incident that occurred when a man stood too closely behind her at Pike Place one busy Saturday. You should talk to someone, find a therapist he had suggested. That’s how he was coping. Opening up and talking about what had happened during the years they spent down there. But she couldn’t talk about it; not yet, she told him with her eyes clamped shut, hand clasping the phone so tightly she swore she could break it. She had been trying to convince him as well as herself that Seattle was where she needed to be. It was the only home she had left, she reasoned. Where else would she go? With both of her parents dead and no siblings or cousins or distant aunts or uncles, moving back to where she had gone to college seemed like the closest thing to home. 

“Are you going to come up here or are you going to keep staring at us?”

Steve pulls Charlotte out of her head, a habit he had adopted early on in their working relationship, and she races up the remaining stairs. Javier’s arms open wide as she launches herself into them, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck.

“Mmm…” Javier groans, inhaling the familiar scent of her for the first time in what felt like forever. He couldn’t put his finger on the smell; something woodsy and sweet and undeniably her mixed with the salty ocean spray that whipped around her as she walked in the sand. His grasp around her back tightened, lifting her slightly off of the ground in his embrace. “I’ve missed you, Cariño.”

As they part, tears flow freely from Charlotte’s eyes. Javier wipes them with his thumb, don’t cry he mumbles to her with a smile. 

“She cried when she saw me too, Jav. You’re not special,” Steve pipes up from behind them. 

Javier feigns shock, his mouth opening wide and hand covering his chest. 

“Is this true? I thought I was your favorite.”

Charlotte can’t help but laugh, wiping the rest of her tears away with the back of her hand before turning to help Connie get Olivia situated at the table for dinner. 

“I brought you something from the beach, Livvie!” She says excitedly, smiling wider when the child laughs up at her. 

She slides a perfect sand dollar she had picked up on her walk into Olivia’s grabbing hands. Connie gasps, leaning down to look at it. 

“Look at that, Olivia! It’s so pretty! We’ve been looking for one without chips all summer, haven’t we? Can you say thank you?”

“Thank you auntie Char!”

Javier’s heart squeezes at the vision in front of him. Surely it was a dream, right? Connie and Charlotte playing with Olivia, Steve preparing everyone’s plates, the warm Atlantic breeze tickling his sore neck beneath the collar of his button up. It was almost like they were back in Colombia, peaceful moments like this popping up occasionally in their otherwise chaotic lives. But it was better this time. They didn’t have to go into the Embassy tomorrow morning, waiting for bad news, looking over their shoulders like it could be their last day walking this earth. 

-

The four of them spend hours on the deck, catching up, eating, laughing, and drinking. It was dark out now, and Olivia has fallen asleep in Charlotte’s lap as the latter rubs her back soothingly. Connie sighs, stretching her arms over her head before standing up. 

“I better get this one into the bath before she’s out for the night,” she says, padding across the deck to take Olivia into her own arms, carrying her into the house and closing the door behind herself. 

It’s quiet for a few minutes, Steve and Javier both turning to look at Charlotte when she could no longer conceal the sniffles coming from beneath the hand that covered her face. Javier reached over to her, tracing his fingers up and down her forearm in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

“Sorry,” she sniffles again, rubbing her eyes on the sleeve of the oversized MIAMI sweatshirt she had put on before dinner. “I just..I can’t believe we’re here. Like this. Happy, breathing. Seeing you guys again is making me emotional.”

Javier sighs, his brows furrowing. He knows the pain she’s going through, because he feels it too. The resistance, almost refusal, to accept a more stagnant pace. Not fully believing that they would ever find peace after what they had endured. It was hard for all of them. Watching her fight was as hard as fighting for himself.

“They’re happy tears, I promise,” she laughs wetly. She takes in a deep breath, a shaky exhale leaving her lips as she brushes the rest of the tears away. 

“I’m going to need you to buck up, Char,” Steve jokes with raised eyebrows as he stood to pick up the plates scattered across the patio table, “we already have one overly-emotional adult, you’re not allowed to go soft on us.”

The pair left on the deck chuckle as Steve disappears through the sliding door. Javier looks at Charlotte with wide eyes and gives her arm a reassuring squeeze. 

-

Charlotte gasped as she opened the door, rows of cages filled with men and women coming into her line of sight. Making her way down the corridor, she glanced into the barred holding cells, most of the occupants huddling into corners as she passed. Gun upright in one hand and flashlight in the other, her boots squelched in the mud beneath her as she continued walking. A rough hand grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her close to the body of a man much larger than her.

The sound of soft crying wakes Javier up, one eye cracking open to note that it was still dark out. Middle of the night. Assuming it’s Olivia, he closes his eye and rolls over, knowing that Steve or Connie will get her. But when it didn’t stop, he realizes that the sound was much closer than Olivia’s room. It’s coming from the room next to his, Charlotte’s. After a minute of being awake he recognizes the sounds, having shared a thin bedroom wall with her in their neighboring government subsidized apartments in Bogata for all of those years. Pushing off his sheets and stretching before rolling over to place his feet on the floor, Javier stands and sleepily walks through his room and into the hallway, careful to open the door quietly so as to not wake anyone else up. He sees Charlotte clutching her blanket tightly and crying in her sleep as he opens the door to her room. He closes it again behind himself before kneeling next to her bed. 

“Char,” he whispers, grabbing her shoulder and shaking it gently, “Charlotte.”

Her eyes fly open, startling him for a second before he slides his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to calm her.

“It’s ok,” he starts, but she gasps like she can’t breathe before squeezing her eyes shut again. Upon waking from the nightmare and seeing Javier next to her, she thought they might be back in Colombia. He had done this countless times back then, using the spare key she had given him for emergencies to wake her from whatever bad dream she was having. “Hey, we’re in Miami, remember?” He speaks softly, moving to run his hand down to her shoulder. 

She does remember, thinking momentarily that it had been part of the dream as well. A cruel joke her mind was playing on her. But it wasn’t; it was real. Her features soften as she opens her eyes again, peering down at Javier from her place on the bed. 

“Did I wake you up?” She mumbles warily, reaching out to feel his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” he says, grabbing her hand and turning his head to give it a light kiss. “Go back to sleep.”

“Stay?” She whispers, unsure of the nerves that rise after asking when he had never denied her before. 

He doesn’t this time either. He slides into the bed behind her, wrapping an arm around her middle and burying his face in her hair that lay splayed out on the pillow. 

When Javier wakes again a few hours later, his head is swimming. Morning light creeps through the curtains but the pair are still in the same spot they had fallen asleep in. He’s hard, incredibly so, groaning as he mindlessly pushes himself into Charlotte’s backside. The smell of her hair fills his senses, everything else still dull from sleep. His hand slides up to feel the silky fabric of her thin nightgown. He pushes up against her again, pulling her closer to his chest before reaching up to move her hair away from the back of her neck. His lips rest there, unmoving. 

“Javi…” she whispers in a disapproving tone. He had woken her up this time, and this wasn’t the first time he had woken her up like this.

“Cariño,” his voice is rough against her skin. He pushes his clothed lower half into her a third time and a quiet, relenting sigh escapes her lips. 

“Hey, Steve?” Connie yells from the kitchen.

The pair freeze with wide eyes before giggling quietly to themselves as Steve yells back, his footsteps trailing past Charlotte’s room and down the carpeted stairs. Javier rolls away from her to lay on his back and adjust himself in his sleep shorts but keeps his eyes on her as she stretches her entire body for a few moments, a soft moan slipping through her lips as she releases the tension. He props himself up on his elbow, leaning over and gazing down at her with a sleepy smile. He had missed her in the time since Colombia, so much so that he thought that he might have even preferred to be back there with her than over a thousand miles apart here in the States. Sporadic phone calls did little to calm the ache he felt in her absence compared to seeing her in person again. Why had they let so much time pass?

Javier swings his leg over her middle, straddling her and leaning down to burrow his face in the space between her neck and shoulder as his hands slide down to her rest on her sides. 

“I need to go shower,” she mumbles, her hand carding through his hair absentmindedly. Keeping him at arm's length emotionally, per usual.

“Not if I get there first,” he responds before nipping at the skin of her neck with his teeth gingerly and digging his fingers into the soft flesh on the side of her stomach. 

She yelps, slapping him playfully on the back as he jumps off of the bed and runs towards the door. She looks up at him, stirring at his flushed cheeks and chest, his untamed hair sticking up every which way, the sleepy smile and wink he throws her way before disappearing through the door. She sighs dreamily, turning over to rub her face into the pillow he had been using.

The rest of the day goes by in a pleasant haze. Steve calls into the office sick, so the three of them spend the day drinking on the beach. Connie and Olivia join them briefly for a swim and lunch before retreating back inside. In the afternoon, the former partners trudge back up to the house to collapse into a fuzzy, alcohol-and-sun induced nap. 

The remaining days of the trip pass similarly. Sightseeing around Miami, dinner and clubbing after securing a last minute babysitter. An unexpected day trip to the Keys where poor Connie had been so busy making sure Olivia was protected from the sun that she herself came home with alarmingly red and painful shoulders. Charlotte hears her crying in frustration as Steve apprehensively rubbed aloe on the angry skin in the other room that night. Javier creeps into her room every night after she has already fallen asleep, his comforting presence jarring her from her dreams momentarily before they both slip back into pleasing unconsciousness for a few hours. 

-

The morning of their last full day there, Charlotte wakes up before Javier. She slips out of his embrace covertly as to not wake him before wrapping a sweater around herself and tip-toeing down the hall and out of the sliding glass door. Sitting in one of the patio chairs and stretching her legs out to rest on the one across from her, she slides down and sighs, her shoulders lowering from her ears in what feels like the first time in years. She can’t remember the last time she was this light. The whole week spent in Miami had been like running her hand through a fur blanket, soothing the wounds left from an age of dragging it against sandpaper. 

The sun is peeking slightly over the ocean, still shrouded by the moody darkness of nighttime when Charlotte hears the door open behind her.

“I love coming out here in the morning,” Steve’s gruff morning voice comes from beside her as he sets a mug of hot coffee in front of her. He sits in the chair next to her, lifting his own mug up to his mouth. Tears prick at Charlotte’s eyes again, sad this time. She was going to miss Steve greatly when she left to go back to Seattle the next morning. He doesn’t look at her, though; staring out to watch the sunrise with a relaxed face. 

They sit in comfortable silence for a long time, the sun fully out and hanging low over the water before Steve moves again. He grabs the pack of cigarettes that sit on the table and offers her one. She takes it, smiling lazily at him in thanks as he hands her the lighter. She passes it back to him and takes a slow drag. It had been a long time since she smoked, ever only really partaking after an excessively stressful day at the Embassy or a few too many drinks at the bar across from their apartments. Her nagging insistence that he and Javier smoked too much in the office rang in his ears every time Steve brought one to his lips. Nevertheless, he lights his own and sighs contentedly, finally turning to look at her.

“Back to teaching in a few days, then?” He asks as he leans back in his chair. 

“Summer classes start on Wednesday. It will be nice to have a few days before getting back into it.” 

Upon resigning from the DEA and returning to Seattle, Charlotte had stumbled into a teaching position at The University of Washington after meeting the chair of the psychology department at the wedding of a friend from her own college days. He was a friend of the groom’s father, impressed by her experience and credentials. She started slowly, teaching Intermediate Psychology I and II simultaneously for a few semesters before being approved for tenure-track. She would start a full-time schedule in the Fall, adding more specified subjects to her course load and beginning her work in the Behavioral Science research facility. 

“Do you think you’ll stick with it?” Steve asks. He knows it was something she hadn’t intended on getting into.

“For now.” 

“You could always come down here, ya know, teach at the University of Miami or something. Hang out with us on the weekends. Babysit Olivia and the baby when we go on dates.” Charlotte laughs. 

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m trying to. It would make Connie very happy, she misses you,” he stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray in between them, joining the one she had put out a few moments ago, “I miss you. It would put my mind at ease knowing you were close by.” 

“You going soft on me, Murphy? After chastising me the other night?”

Steve smiles, reaching over to give her hand a quick squeeze.

“You’re so far away from us. And from Javi. What if something happens, or you need something?”

Charlotte sighs. “I’ll be ok, Steve. I’m struggling now but I won’t always be, right? How did you get over it?”

Steve shakes his head. “I didn’t, really. I don’t think we ever will. But there are things that help. You and Javi help, knowing that you two made it out. Hearing your voices over the phone or getting to see you. Work, being chained to my desk rather than out in the field has helped. Mostly, Connie. Her being down there with us, knowing the things that happened, having someone to share the burden with makes it easier.” 

Charlotte nods, lifting her cup to finish the last few sips of her coffee. The door behind them opens again, a half-asleep Javier walking out onto the deck to join them for a few more moments of morning quiet.

-

The rest of the day drifts by easily. One last trip to the beach, where the four adults lounge on chairs while Olivia sleeps under the umbrella between Steve and Connie after a day of running through the sand. One last dinner on the back patio, conversation flowing as easily as the drinks. When Charlotte enters her bedroom after one last shower in the Murphy’s guest bathroom, Javier is already in her bed. He’s shirtless, sitting propped up by a pillow, reading his worn copy of The Sun Also Rises as he waits for her. 

“It’s a little early, isn’t it?” She asks, sliding into the bed to lay on her stomach next to him before slipping her arm under the pillow to rest her head on. Half of her face is pressed into the pillow, obscuring it from his view, to his dismay. 

“I’m an impatient man, you know this.”

Charlotte smiles in agreement, looking up at him through her eyelashes. He leans over her to place the book on the nightstand and pulls the light switch on the lamp. Darkness floods the room as he slides his body down next to hers, rubbing up and down her back with a heavy hand. 

“I don’t want to leave yet,” she confesses with a mumble. Her eyes flutter shut at his delicate touch.

“Me neither.”

The pair are silent for a while, Javier assuming she had fallen asleep until her hand reaches up to curl into the short hairs at the base of his skull.

“I don’t want to leave you yet.”

Javier sighs, his own hand moving up to tangle in her hair. He holds it there, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of her lips. Charlotte rolls onto her back, his hand falling from her hair to land on the mattress next to her head. It serves to support his weight as he leans down again, fully covering her lips with his own this time. The kiss is slow, deliberate. A shiver makes its way down Charlotte’s spine as his mustache tickles her nose. Javier sighs again, through his nose, as he moves his body closer to hers. He needs more. His tongue slides across her bottom lip and she opens her mouth, granting him access. 

They stay like this for some time, making out like teenagers before Charlotte wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her nails into the soft skin there. 

The pair had been intimate in the past, stumbling into his apartment or hers in a drunken stupor a handful of times. But it was hard to get romantically involved with someone when you didn’t know if you would be returning home the next night. Didn’t know if they would be returning. Their lives stayed teetering on the fine line between continuing and ending throughout their duration in Colombia. And they were friends, first and foremost. While there was no rule explicitly forbidding an office romance, they cared too much about each other to bring the complication of a full-blown relationship into the already hectic mess that their jobs kept them in. 

Now, as his free hand trails under her shirt to rest under the swell of her breasts with his lips still attached to hers, Charlotte feels as though she can’t breathe without him. The life she lives in Seattle feels like a dark, looming cloud she didn’t care to return to with the prospect of his absence. 

A whimper escapes Charlotte’s lips as Javier readjust his body, gently pushing her thighs apart to rest in between them and presses his already throbbing erection into the apex there.

“Is this ok?” He asks in a soft tone, pushing the hair off of her neck before leaning down to press wet, open mouth kisses there.

“Please,” she whispers back. Javier reaches down, sliding one hand up the inside of her thigh, gently brushing his fingers against the already wet underwear inside of her soft sleep shorts. He hooks his fingers into the fabric, moving it over to press his fingers against the silky skin of her slit. Charlotte gasps at the contact, her knees instinctively coming together as Javier works to keep them apart with his thighs. His fingers gently push forward through her folds, swiping up and down to spread the wetness that had collected there. Moaning as the pad of his thumb stops at her clit, Charlotte slides her hands up from Javier’s shoulders to tangle in his hair. He keeps his thumb there, stretching his hand to slide his middle finger into her. She inhales loudly at the intrusion, trying to keep quiet once she remembers the presence of a small child just down the hall from the bedroom they’re in. 

“I think about this all the time,” Javier whispers into her ear, causing her to shiver again, “think about being with you like this again.” He slips a second finger into her while keeping his thumb on her clit. 

“Javi…”, she moans as his fingers pump in and out of her, his thumb simultaneously circling her sensitive bundle of nerves. Sweat is starting to collect at the back of her neck. “I want to feel you.”

Javier’s mouth moves from her ear, across her cheek to her mouth before resting her lips on top of hers. “Give me just one, baby,” he pleads. It’s not long before she does, the soft squelching of her own wetness and the feel of Javier, his breath, his fingers, the hardness in his pants pressing against her thigh cause her to spiral. Charlotte exhales loudly before whining, causing Javier to cover her mouth with the hand he had been using to support his weight. He watches as her eyes squeeze shut and brows furrow, body tightening as pleasure takes over her and then releasing as her orgasm subsides. 

Javier pulls his hand away from her wet center gently before sitting up on his knees to pull his boxers down. Charlotte watches in a haze as his thick cock springs up from above the band of his underwear, lightly slapping against his abdomen before bobbing back down. Her eyes widen at the sight; she doesn’t recall him being this big but, then again, she had never slept with him while completely sober like she was now. Once his boxers are discarded, he removes her sleep shorts and underwear as well, pulling them down her thighs, then her calves, then over her feet to toss them to the floor. Charlotte does the same with her top and relishes in the feeling of his warm skin against hers as he lays back down, covering her body with his own. He kisses her again, fitting his top lip in between both of hers before lining himself up and slowly pushing himself inside of her. Their lips stay together, unmoving as he presses in further until he bottoms out.  Javier starts slow, rolling his hips languidly in an attempt to savor the feeling. Who knows when they’ll be with each other like this again. Charlotte squirms underneath him, her fingernails leaving indentations scattered across his broad shoulders. He grunts at the sensation. 

“More Javi, please,” she whispers in his ear and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Javier picks up his pace, causing Charlotte’s eyes to slip shut. A soft creaking from the bed beneath him sounds in time with his thrusts. He adjusts their bodies slightly, reaching down to pull one of her thighs up to rest on his hip. The slight shift has Charlotte moaning out loud, covering her own mouth quickly with the back of her hand. 

“I’m not going to last much longer,” he tells her in a quiet, strained voice. Sweat has begun to collect at his hair line,  Moving his hand from her thigh, his thumb finds her clit again and begins to softly massage the over-sensitive nub once more. 

“I’m going to come,” Charlotte whines, her body shaking against his own. The admission has Javier’s blood racing, balls pulling up in anticipation.

“Do it,” he whispers, desperate to see her come apart again. She does, eyes squeezed shut tightly. She throws her head back on the pillow, exhaling loudly. Her cunt clenches around Javier so hard that he flinches before his whole body tenses. He barely manages to pull out in time, emitting a low mmm as he grabs his cock and paints her stomach with his release. He collapses on top of her, not bothering to clean her off before planting quick, open mouth kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “So good, Char,” he groans into her skin.  She sighs contentedly, her whole body relaxing underneath him. 

-

Steve drops Javier and Charlotte off at the airport early the next morning on his way to work. The trio mournfully say their goodbyes, hugging each other tightly before regretfully letting go. With promises to come back after the baby is born, Charlotte and Javier leave Steve at the security line. Once through, Javier walks Charlotte to her gate, wanting to savor their last bit of time together.

“I can’t wait another three years to see you, Charlotte,” he tells her with a serious face, grabbing her gently by the arm to pull her body close to his. 

“Well, I’ll be pretty busy over the next few months with school but…what are you doing for Thanksgiving?”