#and then we have conversations like tonight

[incognit0slut]

was i stupid to love you?

in which a lingering glance at Rossi’s wedding threatens your engagement.

content: angst, 4.8k, takes place right after truth or dare (14x15), a lot of dialogue, mention of prison arc, emotional distress, relationship conflict, not proofread a/n: when was the last time you saw me write angst? exactly. this is inspired by malcolm & marie bc i really like the idea of having an argument while moving around the house (also disclaimer i have nothing against JJ i just like being dramatic)

The lock clicks open. The door swings with a creak. Your heels tap against the hardwood in a hollow rhythm that feels almost too loud. There’s a tightness in your chest, that prickling behind your eyes, and a familiar ache pressing up from the pit of your stomach, churning into a faint nausea that you try to ignore. You’re trying to hold it back.

Not here.

Not now.

Spencer doesn’t even look up. The keys slip from his hand with a soft clink as they hit the side table, and he turns away with a quiet sigh that reverberates deep in your bones.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, tossing a glance toward the kitchen. “Think we could order something?”

You trail after him, the sharp click of your heels echoing as you step onto the kitchen tile. “We just came back from a wedding.”

He’s rifling through the cupboard, his fingers brushing over the mismatched mugs and neatly stacked plates before he pulls down two glasses. “I barely ate anything at the reception.”

You watch him, biting back a response as memories flicker to mind. The slice of cake he’d poked at absentmindedly, washing it down with sips of water instead of real food.

It wasn’t hunger he seemed focused on tonight. No, it was his quiet glances across the room you keep on catching from the corner of your eye, and that conversation he’d had at the bar. The one where his posture softened, his gaze so intent you’d found yourself staring at the back of his head, trying not to read too much into it—and obviously failing.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

He shrugs, his back still to you as he fills the glasses with water. “I don’t know,” he says, sounding almost absent, like it’s something he hasn’t really thought about. “I didn’t get around to it, I guess.”

The muscles in your jaw ticks as you bite the inside of your cheeks.

Spencer turns, offering you a glass. “I was thinking of Chinese, or maybe we can check if that Thai place you like is still open.”

You take the glass from him, barely sparing it a glance before setting it back down on the counter. “Whatever you want is fine.”

A subtle crease appears between his brows. “You sure? You usually have some opinion when it comes to food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t want to eat anything?”

You suppress a sigh. "No. I'm tired."

The soft amber of his eyes dims slightly as he studies you. There's a flicker of uncertainty passing through them before he nods. “Alright,” he concedes. “We don’t have to order anything.”

A faint, humorless laugh escapes you before you can stop it. It tastes bitter, a little unfair, but it slips out before you can pull it back, “You don’t have to change your plans on my account, Spencer.”

“I’m not changing any plans,” he responds. “I’m just making sure you have something to eat in case you’re hungry.”

Your shoes dig uncomfortably into your feet. You shift your weight, starting to pace a few steps back and forth. "It's dinner, you don't have to check on me for every little thing. Do whatever you like."

He blinks, looking genuinely perplexed. "What are you saying? I was trying to be considerate."

"Right. Considerate.”

There’s an unmistakable bite in your tone.

“Yes, because we like doing these things together," he observes, watching your uneasy pacing. "Am I missing something here?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

"Honey."

The term of endearment lands softly, slipping from his lips like he believes it has the power to melt whatever tension has suddenly crept between you. But it only tightens the knot building in your stomach. It’s stirring the words you’re trying to hold back, tangling them somewhere between your chest and throat.

He calls your name this time, his eyes narrowing into sharp lines. “You’ve been awfully quiet on our way home, and now you’re… honestly, I don’t know why you're acting this way.” His voice dips with a tinge of exasperation. "What’s this really about?"

The words you’ve been biting back feel like a stack of stones in your throat, rising up, up, up, each one pressed tighter by the gnawing nausea in your stomach. You can feel them gathering, and before you know it, they tumble out messily.

“I’m just saying, don’t let me hold you back from getting what you want. I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything—or, god forbid," you add, letting your gaze drift away as if a little distance might soften the blow, “anyone.”

The soft, almost stifled inhale he takes is audible. You don’t even have to look up to see his expression shifting. You’ve known him long enough to recognize the way his shoulders tense, the way his breathing slows as he processes your words. You know his reaction by heart, yet right now, you wonder if saying this was a mistake, if this is the start of something neither of you can take back.

His fingers twitching at his side slip into your line of sight. He's angry.

Maybe this isn’t the time to start a fight.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Your heels click softly as you turn.

“Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything,” you mutter, already moving toward the bedroom that’s been yours, too, for the past year. Although it feels strange tonight, like a space that belongs to someone else. A life you’re not entirely sure you belong in.

“No." His voice is somewhere behind you. “I think you should explain to me what you mean by that.”

You don’t respond, choosing instead to sink onto the edge of the bed, hands fumbling as you try to undo the straps of your heels. You twist the stubborn leather with more force. His shadow fills the doorway.

“Honey.”

Not again.

You decide to ignore him.

“Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

You tug harder at the strap. “No.”

He doesn’t buy it. “You’re clearly bothered by something.”

You shake your head, fingers still fumbling, the leather cutting against your ankle with each pull. “I’m just tired. Can we leave it at that?”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his gaze now, a crease forming between his brows as he studies you. He moves into the room. You barely have the chance to react before he lowers himself, bending one knee to the floor as he reaches toward the strap you’ve been fighting with. “Here, let me—”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, pulling your foot away. “I can do it myself.”

“I know you can. But let me—”

“I can do it myself!”

Your heartbeat thuds loud in your ears, each pulse feeding the frustration that’s wound its way up from your chest. He rises slowly, not a word passing his lips, but the tension radiates off him like heat. He’s close enough that his warmth presses against your skin, although it’s not the kind you usually find comforting. It’s almost suffocating.

You turn your focus back to the stubborn strap, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggle to grip it. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him slipping off his shoes, one after the other, the soft thuds barely audible over the rush of your own heartbeat. He pulls off his suit jacket, carefully smoothing the crumpled fabric before hanging it in the closet. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to let it go… until his gaze drifts back to you.

You can tell his patience is fraying, and you’re proven right when he asks again, “What did you mean by that? When you said you wouldn’t want to stop me from anyone… what was that supposed to mean?”

You finally manage to tug the strap loose. The heel drops to the floor with a muted thump. “It was nothing.”

“I don’t think you’d say something like that if it was nothing.”

Your focus shifts to the other shoe. “Just drop it, Spencer.”

"How am I supposed to drop it when you're implying... whatever it is you're implying?"

You keep your eyes down, wrestling with the strap in silence. He cuts through the quiet before it has a chance to grow.

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing when it clearly means something. I need to know why you said that.”

You kick off the other heel and meet his gaze for the first time since you walked into the room. “You really want to know?”

He reaches for his bow tie, yanking it loose it with one hard pull. “Do I want to know why you’re giving me this attitude right now? Yes. Yes, I do.”

Oh. So this is going to be that kind of fight.

You hadn’t expected it to go here. Fights with Spencer are very rare, usually more a clash of misunderstandings that you both laugh about with limbs tangled between sheets by the time you’ve made peace. But seeing him standing there with the tie hanging loosely around his neck and his five o’clock shadow casting an even darker line along his jaw, it hits you differently.

This is real. And this time, you don’t know if brushing it off will fix anything.

“Fine, let’s talk about it then.” You rise from the bed, tension carrying you to your feet. “Emily’s speech tonight.”

His brow furrows, not quite a scowl, more a cautious crease as he processes your tone. “Emily’s speech? What about it?”

“What do you remember of it?”

There’s a slight pause, and you can tell he's clearly caught off guard by the question. “She mentioned how Rossi and Krystal are twin flames."

“Right. Two souls that are always meant to be together.”

His face is still marked by confusion, but there’s something else creeping in. A subtle tightening around his eyes tells you he’s starting to piece it together. “I don’t understand what that has to do with—”

“You looked at JJ the second Emily made that speech,” you cut him off. “Spencer, you didn’t even spare a glance at your future wife because you were too busy making eyes at the woman who’s apparently been in love with you all these years.”

There. You said it. The words that have twisted around your insides all evening are finally out. And maybe they taste a little bitter, but at least they're not choking you anymore.

A second passes, then another, and by the time the fifth heartbeat ticks by, he’s standing there with his hand on his hip.

“That’s not what happened."

“Then what was it?” you demand. "I sat beside you the whole day, you didn't even try to hide it."

“That’s not—you’re twisting things.” His hand moves through his hair, fingers digging in as his curls tumble forward onto his forehead. “And you know what happened that night wasn’t real. It was a forced confession. She was under duress, we both were. JJ and I are just friends.”

You arch an eyebrow. “You look at all your friends like that?”

His hand drops to his side. "I don't know what else you want me to say. JJ said what she did because she thought we might die. She has a family, and a husband who she loves. We already went through this, I don't understand why this is suddenly an issue again."

“Maybe I wouldn’t be bringing this up if you didn’t look at her tonight like you were ready to break up that marriage yourself.”

A flash of shock and anger crosses his features.

“That’s not fair,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve heard in a while. “Do you really think I’d disregard everything I have with you because of a look? Because of a history that has never gone anywhere?”

“I don’t know what to think. It's not like it happened just once, I saw you looking at her the same way at the bar." You step forward, accidentally kicking your discarded heel as you move. "What were you two talking about, anyway?”

He lets out a tight breath. “She was checking in on me. She… we haven’t talked much since then.”

The corners of your mouth pull down. “Mhm. Another round of truth or dare?”

“I can’t believe you’re using that against me." His hair flops forward as he shakes his head, falling messily over his brow. "If there were anything unresolved with JJ, I would’ve said something. But I didn’t, because there’s nothing there."

“And yet, she’s always been an important part of your life, hasn't she?"

He tilts his head. "What are trying to say now?"

Your tongue darts out, briefly brushing your lips. You're not sure you should say it, but it feels like a door has swung open—a door to words that have been waiting for their moment.

You take a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with as much air as you can.

“When you were in prison, you put her on your visiting list ahead of almost everyone else. Doesn’t that say something about where she stands with you?”

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.

“She’s part of the team,” he says, as if he’s trying to spell out something he’s already explained a dozen times. "There were strict rules, I already told you that only a handful of people were allowed to visit. It wasn’t like I could just put anyone on the list.”

“But you could’ve put me on there!”

The familiar burn of tears prickles at the edges of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. An explanation or protest is poised on his lips, but you’re already moving, closing the distance with a single, decisive step. A finger lands on his chest.

“I was your girlfriend, Spencer. Were you that determined to keep me out? Was the thought of seeing me really so unbearable? Do you even understand how hard it was to sit at home, knowing you were locked up, feeling completely helpless? Do you have any idea how much I hated myself day after day because I couldn’t do anything to help you?”

Your lips quiver. You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

“I was out here, just… waiting. Wondering if you were okay, if they were treating you alright, if you even had someone to talk to. And meanwhile, she’s there, with you. Every single time, she’s the one who gets to be by your side.”

Your nail digs into the fabric of his shirt.

“So forgive me if I can’t just let that go. Because when it mattered, it felt like you didn’t want me to be there for you. And now… now I don’t even know if you need me the way you seem to need her.”

Your breathing turns shallow, each inhale catching in your chest. The tears you’ve been holding back are dangerously blurring your vision. You swallow the knot lodged in your throat.

“I need a minute.”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, leaving him standing there in stunned silence. You slip back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you finally reach for the glass of water that’s been sitting there untouched. You take a sip, barely feeling the cool water on your lips, when you hear his footsteps behind you.

“You think I don’t want you in my life?” he demands. “You think I somehow need her more than I need you?”

You set the glass down. “What part of ‘I need a minute’ do you not understand?”

“You really expect me to wait quietly after you unloaded every doubt you’ve ever had about us?”

You life your chin up. “Yes, I do. I need space to think right now.”

“What more do you want to think about when you’ve already convinced yourself that I’m always going to fall short? Is it so hard to believe that you’re the one I want?”

“You want to know why it’s so damn hard to believe?” You turn towards him. “Because every time I try to let this go, there’s always something. A confession. That—that not-so-subtle look. And when those things happen, it reminds me that I’m not as close to you as she is. I’m fucking tired of feeling like I’m fighting for space in your life.”

“Do you think I want you to feel like that? Do you think I’d go through everything we’ve been through if you didn’t matter to me?”

“Then explain to me why I wasn’t on that list!” you cry out. “Explain to me why, in one of the hardest times of your life, you couldn’t make space for me?”

“Because I was trying to protect you!”

A heavy, dreadful silence falls between you. He takes a step back, his eyelids fluttering shut briefly, and when he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that mirrors the gentleness now threading through his voice.

“I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, and maybe it never will, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing me like that. Living through it was hard enough, but having you there, seeing me so helpless… It would have crushed me. I didn’t want that to be your memory of me.”

His Adam’s apple dips as he swallows, a quick, almost anxious movement you’ve witnessed countless times.

“And when JJ came to see me,” he continues, “the way the inmates looked at her, the things they said after she left… it was disgusting. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen to you. I couldn’t live with thought of you being subjected to that because of me.”

You lower your head with a sigh. “I don’t care if they looked. I don’t care what they would’ve thought.”

“But I care,” he fires back, taking a step forward. “Because you mean more to me than anyone. All I wanted was to keep you safe, and maybe I didn't handle it right, maybe I made the wrong call... but it was only because I—" His voice drops into an even more gentle note. "Because I love you."

Your heart stumbles, an uneven beat that feels almost bruised, pounding hard against your ribs.

"I-I love you so much. More than I know how to put into words." The ache in your chest sharpens as his hands come up to cup your cheeks. "I don't like fighting with you. I hate it, actually. I hate seeing you look at me like this."

You also hate the way he’s looking at you. There’s a depth to his annoyingly pretty eyes that makes it impossible to hold up your defenses without feeling them crumble. You let your eyes flutter closed.

“Why don’t we… call it a night?” He suggests. “Let’s lie down. We don’t have to talk about this now.”

The blackness behind your eyelids does little to quiet your mind. Nor does his voice. Or his touch. Instead of offering peace, his presence throws every glance, every moment of tension from tonight into sharper relief.

You draw in a breath, trying to find some comfort in his palms against your cheeks. Yet, even this can’t smooth away the doubt that’s settled in. With a resigned sigh, you release the breath you’ve been holding along with the words that have been pressing at the back of your throat.

“You haven’t explained it to me.”

The shadows in his gaze seem to deepen when you open your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been going in circles, but you haven’t explained to me what happened tonight,” you say quietly. “Why did you look at her, Spencer?”

His thumb absently strokes your cheek in a way that feels more hesitant than reassuring.

“Be honest with me,” you press. “Was there a part of you, even the tiniest part, that still wanted something with her? Some small part of you that… wondered what it might be like?”

The silence between you presses in from all sides, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled ticking of a clock on the wall. It’s the kind of quiet that sharpens even the smallest sounds, yet his lack of response feels like the loudest thing of all.

You pull back from him with an incredulous laugh.

“Unbelievable.” The word barely makes it past your lips, then louder as you start to move, pacing the length of the apartment. “Unbelievable.”

“Wait,” he says, trailing after you, “I didn’t even say anything.”

You stop short by the couch and whip around to face him.

“You didn’t need to! You—you hesitated," you stammer, searching his face for any flicker of denial, but it’s there, plain as day, that split-second of doubt you caught. “That was already an answer.”

He inches closer. A hand closes in on you. “Please—”

You flinch, pulling back, and every muscle in your body tightens. “Don’t. Don’t touch me right now.”

His hand falls to his side. “Please… let me explain."

You watch his hand drop, fingers twitching like they’re not sure if they should retreat or reach out again, but he keeps them there, hovering in some invisible line you’ve drawn. He looks at you with those big, pleading eyes, and for a split second, you almost feel bad for him.

Almost.

A bitter sort of smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "So now you want to explain?"

He takes that as permission, and his voice comes in low, almost cautious. "When I first started at the BAU, I had… maybe a crush. A passing thing, barely anything, really. But that was fourteen years ago.” His hand scrubs through his hair in a frustrated sweep. “Fourteen years."

Your brows pull into a frown. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Because it was nothing,” he says, almost too quickly. “I was young, it didn’t matter. I didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”

“Oh, I get it now. All those old feelings came rushing back the night she confessed, didn’t they?”

He mirrors your frown, a visible line of tension etching itself between his brows as he protests, “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?” you press. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot like you’re caught between us because some part of you is still hung up on what might’ve been with her."

He shifts uncomfortably, and you notice the muscles in his jaw clenching the moment his gaze falters, dipping away for just a heartbeat before he looks back at you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I want,” he starts to explain. “I didn’t expect her to say those things, and, yes, it threw me off for a moment. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking back, or that I want her. I want you.”

You shake your head, feeling a tired sort of frustration settle over you, and walk over to the couch. The soft cushions give slightly beneath you as you sink down.

“If you really wanted me, this wouldn’t be happening. You wouldn’t have let her get into your head like that. And now, you expect to believe that none of it meant anything?”

He’s quick to follow, closing the distance in a few tense steps. “It’s not—” His hands flex open and close at his sides. “You’re acting like one single look tonight is enough to decide I’m not committed to you. Do you really think I’d let some confession I didn’t even ask for get in the way of what we have?”

“It’s not just about that single look. It’s the way she could say something and suddenly, you’re pulled back to something you swore you’d put behind you. How am I supposed to feel secure when she still has that power over you?”

“And what am I supposed to do, then? Apologize for things I don’t even feel anymore?”

You flinch at the sharpness in his voice. A low, frustrated noise rumbles in his chest when you don’t respond.

“You’re always going to question me no matter what I say, aren’t you?"

You glance over at him, catching the disheveled strands of hair falling over his forehead, and it pulls you back to that night he came home after that dreadful night. He’d walked in looking worn in a way you’d never seen before, his whole posture weighted down as if he was carrying more than just the fear of being held hostage.

You remember sitting with him on this same couch, fingers brushing his, and asking what was bothering him.

JJ said she loved me.

Your heart lurched, a quick, quiet ache that you tried to swallow down. Really?

Don’t worry. It’s not true.

But with that same haunted look in his eyes right now, you can’t help but wonder if it really was just a well-intentioned lie.

“One glance and you’re accusing me of things that are never going to happen,” he starts again. “Do you really think so little of me? After everything we’ve shared, you really think I’d betray you like that?”

In true honesty, you don’t believe he would ever cross that line. But the doubts still linger, fed by those small hesitations, the moments when his eyes seem somewhere else. It’s not that you think he’d betray you. It’s that a part of him might still be holding onto something he won’t let you see.

“It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Now those words you might actually believe.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say quietly, eyes drifting to the ring on your finger. You twist it absently, remembering the night he proposed. How he’d stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing as he tried to make the moment perfect but ended up rambling in that endearing, nervous way of his. You’d laughed, reassured him that it was exactly right, that you didn’t need grand gestures. All you needed was him.

And yet, you don’t think he needs you as much you need him.

A hollow ache settles around your hand as you slip the ring off.

“What are you doing?”

You stare down at the gold band in your palm, blinking back the sting of tears.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

Panic. Desperation. There’s a sudden rush of melancholy in his voice, a heaviness that wasn’t there a moment ago.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I—I don’t know anything right now.”

His face crumples, and in a sudden, almost instinctive movement, he drops down to his knees.

“No, no, you do know me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. Isn’t this—” he stops, then dips his head, trying to catch your gaze. “Isn’t that what couples do? They argue, they mess things up… but they work through it, right? Right?”

You look down, feeling the cool weight of the ring pressing into your skin.

“Spencer…” you begin. “I trust you. I do, and I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t. But… I need to feel secure. I… I need to know that I don’t have to wonder or worry about where I stand. I never thought you’d be the one to make me doubt that.”

There’s a sharp ache in your chest.

“I didn’t think it could hurt this much. Not from you.”

Your pulse ring in your ear.

“I can’t—” The words catch in your throat, a stinging burn rising as you force them out. “I can’t be your wife when I’m constantly questioning if I have all of you. When I feel like… there’s always a part of you that isn’t mine.”

“I’m yours, honey. I’m always yours.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

There’s a slight falter in his voice. “Don’t—please don’t do this—”

“I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”

He falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the rough, uneven rhythm of both your breaths filling the space between you. Then, like something inside him finally cracks open, he sinks down, pressing his forehead against your lap. The sudden weight of him forces a broken sob from your throat.

“Please,” he begs, fingers clutching at your sides. His chin presses deep into your thigh. “Tell me how to fix this. I can’t— I can’t lose you.”

“Spence…”

“I love you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling from him in a rush. “I love you.”

But what is love, really? Is it just a word people reach for when they’ve run out of things to say, a way to patch over bruised hearts and broken promises? Or should it feel like something more solid, something that doesn’t leave you questioning or aching? You can’t even tell anymore.

You wonder, too, if maybe you’ve been wrong all along. If this feeling in your chest isn’t love but something dressed up as it, something that fills the gaps while slowly hollowing you out. Because here you are, clinging to a love that somehow makes you feel like you’re both needed and unseen. Everything and nothing all at once.

You feel like a fool.

“I want to go to bed.”

His head lifts from your lap, a flash of surprise darting across his face, as though he hadn’t expected you to say anything at all, let alone that. “Yeah, okay, let’s go to bed. We’ll… we’ll figure this out in the morning.”

“I’d rather be alone.”

The words hit him visibly. His mouth opens, an argument forming there, but he catches himself, letting the silence stretch before he nods slowly.

“Then… I’ll stay out here. On the couch,” he offers softly. “Just… in case you need anything.”

A pang cuts through you at the thought of him stretched out on the couch, his legs too long, his shoulders folded in to fit the cramped space. But the idea of sharing a bed right now feels impossible.

You reach down, holding out the ring towards him.

“No,” he says firmly, gently pushing your hand away. “Don’t do that. This… it doesn’t mean we’re giving up. It just means we need time. That’s all.”

You’re not sure if your mind will change in the morning. The ring presses into your skin, but finally, you close your hand around it, nodding faintly before you peel away from him.

The tears start the moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind you. It spills over in a jagged, helpless cry that sounds nothing like you imagined heartbreak might sound. It’s messy, a kind of aching grief that feels too big for your chest, clawing its way out with no grace at all. You can practically hear how pathetic you sound, and yet you can’t seem to stop.

Even when the hem of your dress trails across the floor. Even when you finally collapse onto his side of the bed. There’s no stopping you. With the ring sitting cold in your hand, your tears keep coming, soaking into the pillow as you cling to the last trace of him woven into the sheets.

[nereidprinc3ss]

promiscuous

in which spencer reid doesn't like that flirty!reader is going on a date. he makes that known. (bandages universe)

flangst, 18+ for discussions of sex warnings/tags: gn!reader I think, mentions of going to a bar/going for drinks, very suppressed mutual pining, jealousy from Spencer, reader implied to engage in casual sex, reader calls themself a slut somewhat disparagingly but like as a joke, it all gets resolved, he is very sweet, he rambles when he's nervous a/n: oh God I love them so much they are like so in love and they literally have no idea at all because they're so dumb... but WE can tell.. turning point for them

���Penelope wanted me to confirm that you guys are coming to drinks with us tonight?”

It’s something of a standing tradition for the BAU on the last Friday of every month, and usually you’d agree, but tonight, you have other plans. 

“Raincheck for me,” you say, sliding some files into your bag which you do not plan on reviewing. “I have a thing.”

“What thing do you have on a Friday night?” Morgan asks skeptically. You don’t bother looking at him as you hide a smile. 

“A date, Morgan. You jealous?”

“You’re going on a date?”

You’d nearly forgotten Spencer was in the room until he spoke—he’s been in one of those quiet moods of his where he sort of floats around everyone else and makes himself insubstantial. As you cast him a sidelong glance, trying to figure out his tone of voice, you see he’s frowning. Nearly grimacing. His brows are drawn so tight you’re worried he’ll give himself a headache. 

“Uh, yeah. I am.” Suddenly, your parade feels a little rained on. 

“With who?”

You pause, looking back down at your desk with a new frown of your own and shaking your head as if you could clear it that way. “Just… some guy from OT.”

“Dalton?”

Ding ding ding. Somehow he got it right on the first guess, and for some reason, you wish he hadn’t. You don’t want Spencer knowing who you’re going on a date with. It feels wrong. 

“Does it matter?” You evade, shoving your things with a little more force into your bag. 

“Well Dalton is an idiot, so I guess I’m just trying to figure out why you’d go out with him.”

“And if it’s not Dalton?”

“Then I’d tell you all the guys in OT are idiots and you shouldn’t waste your time on any of them.”

“Alright—” Morgan passes between your desks, placing a friendly hand on your back as he does. “I’m gonna let you two hash this out by yourselves.” He gives you a look, eyebrows raised, unsmiling, that means, go easy on the kid. It makes you feel terribly guilty. And more than a little defensive. 

“Night,” you call halfheartedly. He only waves as the glass doors swing shut behind him, leaving you and boy genius alone in the bull pen.

Silence falls, cloistering you as you finish packing up together. It seems to magnify the buzz of the overheads. You notice him intentionally lingering, and you sling your bag over your shoulder with a sigh. 

“Okay,” you say, turning to face him with your whole body. He seems uncomfortable with that, but you’re not letting this go. “What is this? Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you,” he mumbles, refusing to meet your eyes. “I just think—”

“Yeah. You’ve made your thoughts abundantly clear. I don’t know why you’re judging me for going on a date.”

“I’m not judging you! I just think you deserve better than a guy who looks like he… snorts protein powder for every meal and has less capacity for intelligent conversation than a mealworm.”

“Okay. Do you have someone in mind?”

The words come out a little sharper than you’d meant for them to. A little louder. Spencer looks like a scolded puppy as he swallows. 

“Not specifically. Just—someone more like you.”

He just doesn’t get it. You fold your jacket over your arm. 

“Yeah, well, until someone more like me comes along and asks me out, Dalton is the best I’ve got. I know he’s not my soulmate, Reid. But he asked me to drinks, and I said yes.”

The room is mostly dark. Only a few fluorescents remain on to cast Spencer in an almost clinical glow against a dark grey background. You’ve been here before. It feels like an interrogation. An environment where you’re practically begging for the truth without saying please, but there’s only room for measured dishonesty. 

Spencer speaks under his breath, fiddling with the strap of his own bag. “He’s not good enough for you.”

“What do you want me to do?” It’s an exasperated, confrontational sigh. Your arms raise and fall heavily back to your sides. Another long grey hallway of silence that leads nowhere. When it becomes clear he doesn’t have the answer, or he’s not comfortable sharing, you straighten. “I’ll see you Monday, Reid.”

Your spirits are completely dampened as you trudge to the elevators. What once seemed like an exciting opportunity now only serves as a depressing reminder that you’re wasting your time with a man who isn’t what you want. Maybe you should just call the whole thing off. 

“Wait,” Spencer calls, half-jogging to catch the open elevator. His bag bobs with every step, pens and things jingling around inside. It’s endearing, even though you’re upset with him. Your arms remain stubbornly crossed, but he makes it anyway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your mood.”

You laugh dryly. “Yeah, well…”

“It’s just that…” he sniffs and looks down, hair falling in front of his face. He really is sweet, even when he’s kind of a dick. He’s full of so much sincerity he doesn’t know what to do with it all. “I know how you are—you’re special, and funny, and intelligent, and, and Dalton—all those qualities are wasted on him. He looks at you and he just sees a pretty face. It may sound trite, but… he doesn’t deserve you.”

You sigh again, heart squeezing. The glowing light on the panel of floor numbers flickers. “I know your heart is in the right place, alright? But it’s not about who deserves me or who doesn’t. I’m not a prize. I’m a person, and people like to feel wanted. Sometimes, it’s just—it’s about who’s there, and who likes me enough to say it to my face. Sometimes that’s all I need, and I know you didn’t mean it like this, but when you say he doesn’t deserve me, it really seems like you’re not considering what I might want at all. Maybe Dalton is what I want.”

God—this elevator ride is like, comedically long. 

“Is he what you want?”

At least he has the bravery to ask. 

You glance over at Spencer, washed out bloodless and looking like he’s prepared to flinch, like he doesn’t know if he’s ready for the answer. The doors ding and slide open, and stale air whooshes from the chrome compartment into the lobby like a held breath finally exhaled. You swallow. 

“I don’t know why it matters to you.”

“Because you’re my friend and I want to see you happy,” he insists, trailing after you as you speed walk through the lobby. Every click of your heeled boots echos. 

“Then shouldn’t you be supporting me?”

“I’m not going to support you in making the wrong choice.”

The conversation spills out into the bitter-cold parking lot. You turn around to face him. 

“Respectfully, you have no idea what’s right or wrong for me. I don’t like whatever this is,” you say, gesturing with a finger between the two of you, as if the conflict were a tangible thing—a phone line hanging between your hearts. “I don’t know if it’s, like, jealousy, or some misplaced feeling of possessiveness, or protectiveness, or—”

“It’s not like that!” He splutters. 

“Okay—so what is it like? If you want to see me happy, why don’t you support me in pursuing the things that make me happy? And if that’s meaningless sex with some guy from operational tech, so be it! You are not in a position to give your two cents on who I sleep with!”

“I wasn’t trying to—I wasn’t even thinking about—about sex! I don’t care who you sleep with!”

He’s turning increasingly pink. 

“Fine. But if you weren’t thinking about sex, if you thought I was under any illusion that Dalton was going to be my fucking Prince Charming then clearly you’re not equipped to have this conversation. I know he’s an idiot. I’m not looking for my soulmate—thank you, though, for reminding me that it’s completely fucking pointless to even pretend. I love you, Spencer, but grow up. And stay out of my business.”

And with that, you’re turning on your heel and marching toward your car. Spencer calls your name—once. Twice. The wind lashes against your bare arms and stings your eyes as you fumble with your keys. 

It’s just the wind. 

Nothing else. 

-

Maybe you’re simply not meant for love. 

It’s a narcissistic thought in the sense that everyone has it at some point in their lives—everyone falls victim to the delusion that they are so uniquely wretched, so singularly incapable of being understood by another person. It’s the universal illusion of solitude. And you’d thought yourself above it for a long time. In college, there was fling after fling. Your bed was never empty if you didn’t want it to be. In your young adult life, you have other priorities—but you rarely have to be alone. 

Now, though, as you sit on a rickety metal stool deep in the bowels of the Bureau’s records room, banished to sort through files in search of one that had been mishandled during a cold case and is now supposedly relevant again, (although you’re not sure it actually exists) you’re pondering the nature of those connections you’d been so sure your life was full of. Were they all artificial? Designed by you subconsciously to manufacture a sense of complacent satisfaction? To stave off the aching, gnawing loneliness in your gut that you’re only now becoming aware of and has been eating you away in bigger and bigger bites since Friday night?

Morgan was supposed to be just as arm-deep into a box of dusty manila folders as you are now, but he talked his way out of it, and you’re sitting in an awkward twenty-minute-long-so-far silence with Spencer. Which isn’t helping anything. 

The tension comes and goes like the moon pulling the tides. It’s like you can sense it wafting off of each other—you feel it in the prickle on the back of your neck and the buzz in your stomach when he’s about to say something, and you glance over, and he’s already looking at you with his lips parted, and then he doesn’t say anything after all, and the silence reinforces itself. 

It gets frustrating. 

Not to mention this task is equal parts mind numbing and infuriating. Maybe Hotch just hates you. 

Eventually Spencer clears his throat, and you welcome the distraction. 

“What year are you on?”

You give him a long look which he doesn’t reciprocate, because you want to say, really? But eventually you pick up the edge of the box you’re sifting through and double check. 

“Uh… June 1979 through August 1979.”

He nods matter-of-facts. “They should be making us wear gloves.”

Your incoming tangent spidey senses are tingling. It’s not exactly an opportune time, but it’s better than silence. 

Plus—you’re pretty sure this is his idea of a peace offering. 

“Why’s that?” You mutter, flicking through yellowed papers. 

“Wood pulp paper contains an alum-rosin mixture to minimize ink bleeding, but in the presence of moisture such as that introduced in trace amounts by our fingertips it generates a diluted sulfuric acid solution. They didn’t start adding alkaline buffers into paper until 1986, and the cellulose chains that comprise the structure of the paper inevitably shorten and break down over time, so we’re actively degrading these documents by touching them without gloves.”

“Did you say sulfuric acid?”

“I said a diluted sulfuric acid solution,” he clarifies, utterly missing the point of your question as he so often does in that disarmingly endearing way of his. “Sorry, by the way.”

You look up from a photo of bloodied bell-bottom jeans. He’s caught you by surprise. 

“For what?”

“For—”

He struggles with the words—you watch his lips form a few silent ones before he gives up on the nonchalant act and sets his file on his lap. He can’t seem to tear his eyes from it, but you don’t mind. 

“For everything on Friday. I… I know it was none of my business. I sometimes struggle with… keeping my thoughts to myself. Especially when it concerns someone I care about. But I wasn’t judging you, I swear. What you said about—about sex, I—” he sighs, obviously frustrated with himself, and pushes a bit of hair out of his eyes. “That’s not where my mind was at, at all. Whatever you… do, or don’t do, is none of my business. Obviously. You don’t need me to tell you that. You don’t need me to tell you anything. I just really wanted to clarify that I wasn’t shaming you or judging you for—”

“Spencer,” you say gently, cutting him off and reeling him in before he can dig any deeper. 

“Yeah. Sorry.”

He glows under the canned lighting, a soft aura of white blurring the edges of him. The stale room buzzes. It’s otherwise quiet down here. Peaceful, almost. 

From anyone else, you might consider it overstepping. 

You wouldn’t have been willing to forgive them in the first place. 

But it’s not anyone else. 

“Thank you, for apologizing. I really appreciate it.”

He glances up at you, sort of hunched—always trying to make himself smaller than whatever force created him had intended. The deep brown of his eyes is melted and swirling and sweet and nervous. He’s not naturally good at these interpersonal things, but he’s always trying. He’s always pushing himself for you.

Do you ask too much? 

Do you offer enough in return?

Struck by sudden insecurity, you look away. Go back to your files. 

Perhaps you made a mountain out of a molehill and told him to climb it. 

“I mean, I am kind of a slut. I wouldn’t blame you for thinking so,” you laugh airily. “Maybe it was a good reality check.”

A trailing silence. An air conditioner kicks on. 

“What? That’s not—that’s not at all what I was trying to say.”

“Spencer, it’s fine.”

His stool squeaks as he sits up straighter. 

“No, I really want you to understand. Even if I cared or thought about how many people you might sleep with—which I don’t—and even if I determined that you were… sexually promiscuous, I wouldn’t assign a moral value to that judgement. Sexual promiscuity is observed all the time in the animal kingdom, it’s biologically sound and justified and in less misogynistic cultures where bonds forged between humans weren’t socioeconomic arrangements dependent on women being viewed as commodities first and foremost, it’s completely unremarkable. But I haven’t made that determination. All I know is that… you’re you. And that’s all that’s ever going to matter to me.”

Silence falls. Your voice gets stuck in your throat. 

How does he so casually show you more kindness than anyone else has ever managed to show you in your life?

Spencer takes pity on you. 

“And… we’ve talked entirely too much about something that’s none of my business today.”

It’s wry and earns a chuckle from you. Even Spencer manages a chagrined smile. That same strand of hair falls loose as he looks down. Light bounces from his self-effacing smirk. 

You fiddle absentmindedly with the fraying corner of a folder, and you’re about to open your mouth, about to speak into the sparkling cloud that the easy laughter and the melted tension has left in its wake, and tell him how much you appreciate him and how kind he truly is and undoubtedly whatever you say will be made more beautiful because of it—because of the affection you have for each other—and then you stop, eyes catching on the case file between your fingers. You frown. 

“Wait—what’s the case number we’re looking for?”

“91 18 00063 7.”

You hold the file up, eyes alight. 

“I found it.”

Spencer frowns and takes it without asking. You watch as he reviews the number in tiny black typeface along the top of the document. His brow scrunches in disbelief. 

“I genuinely didn’t think we were ever going to find it,” he murmurs after leading through the photos and glances back up at you. “We had thirty years of boxes to look through and you found it in under an hour. You’re like magic.”

It’s impossible not to smile. You feel all warm and sparkly as you snatch it back from him and stand, straightening your jacket. 

“Will you tell that to Hotch?”

“I… will tell anyone who will listen,” he assures you, and you’re confident he’s following as you make your way through the maze of stacks. “Are we not gonna clean up our mess?”

“There are people who will take care of that later.”

“Yeah. Like me. During my lunch break.”

“Don’t worry. You’re going to be well rewarded for your efforts today.”

“What does that mean?” He mumbles, and you can practically hear his blush. 

You smile to yourself. 

Still got it. 

for more of these two, check out the bandages universe masterlist!

[okwonyo]

（ 标题 ） STRAWBERRY HEAD.

PREC𝒾S ⠀⟡​⠀a guy with a fun costume flirts with you at a party.

( 엔하이픈 희승 ) ୨୧ f .. r 12OO fluff meet cute ── flirting skinship ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ recue𝒾l

지아 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒ㅤ i am not leaving tumblr everrr don’t worry, luvdolls 💌

( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )

it always ends up the same. no matter what the conversation is, no matter how it began or where; it always ends up with the same conclusion. why don’t you have a boyfriend, yet?

as always, you groan while tilting your face to the ceiling. like a tradition, it is like you are begging a superior being to end your misery now and just take you before they all start to recall all your failed dates and talking stage over the past few months. it is not like they are that many, anyway.

you can try to tell each one of the people surrounding you that you are not interested in a relationship, that you think boys are fun to mess with but truly useless and that you are fine on your own— they never listen.

you successfully disappear amongst the crowd of diverse book, movie and game characters— and even … fruits? — costumes to get a drink. suddenly feeling very thirsty. 

no one notices you, too hang on debating on your love life when you are not even there to begin with.

pouring something into your glass, you feel someone standing a bit too close to you. 

“hey,” a voice greets you loudly. making your heart jump all the way to your stomach. 

you almost giggle as you turn around; a tall, grown man in a bright red hoodie, the same color as his joggings and a strawberry sort of hat wrapped around his head. 

his voice is way too deep to go with his costume.  

a smile tugs your lips, “hi.”

he smiles back. this time with a much much softer, he tells you back, “hi,” he eyes lingers on your face. “you come here often?”

you actually giggle at that, with your face falling towards the ground, with his face following yours, with his gaze never leaving you as he smirks. 

you cross one arm under your chest and plant your free arm’s elbow in your wrist, holding your drink close to your mouth, “please, don’t tell me that line has ever worked for you,” he chuckles at that, “i wouldn’t stand it.” 

the strawberry head shrugs, “tried and tested true for a reason,” then he leans his shoulder against the wall next to you. 

“what’s your name, bambi?” he asks you, biting down his lip as he smiles. 

the nickname comes from your doe makeup and the little tail on your skirt. looks like you are not the only one who makes nicknames. 

you respond while turning to face him, “what is yours?” 

“heeseung,” you admit it, ‘strawberry head’ will be missed but you like this one better. 

“it’s cute,” you nod and he laughs. 

“and yours isn’t?” he immediately says back. he rolls your name on his tongue, dear god . “it suits you well, i like it.”

you huff humoredly, “i will tell my parents you are a fan,” you don’t forget to emphasis on his name and hold your drink up, “heeseung.” 

“i hope i will be able to tell them myself one day,” he teases when you drink, making your choke. 

well, that was quite risky— although, still very smooth, you will give him that. 

your eyes wide and your mouth falls open is a surprised smile. your face must be funny because heeseung lets out a genuine laugh, that goes beyond the sound of the loud music. 

“take me to dinner first!” you tell him, while watching his body vibrate because of his laughter. 

the tall man gets serious pretty quickly after the words leave your mouth, he looks at you like he had you exactly where he wanted. 

“well,” he starts and his smirk is back again. “what about tonight?”

you can only blink at him for a moment. as if it was written on it; you scan his entire face in a hope of an answer. oh. 

“diner?” you ask, he hums. “tonight?” he hums again and your knees weaken a bit. “but we barely know each other!”

“we can get to!” his smile is more than evident in his voice, on his pink lips. “over diner!” 

he got you pressing your lips together and fighting back a smile like a highschool girl. the debate doesn’t take very long in your head, you just need to bite your inner cheek to get yourself to say it. 

strawberry head’s face is full of apprehension and enthusiasm, so much that you wonder who looks the most idiotic between the two of you. 

you sigh, then giggle, “fine, you convinced me.” 

the guy smiles. and after you successfully say goodbye to your friends while avoiding all their questions, everything gets wrapped pretty well. 

soon you stand a few meters away from heeseung’s means of transport.

“you have a bike,” you sound half impressed, half incredulous. 

heeseung, with his strawberry costume, has the audacity to look at you with an utterly shocked and offended expression splashed on his face. he even puts his hand on his heart. 

“am i not cool enough to have one?” he asks as he leans on his motorcycle. 

you take one step closer to him, letting your fingertips run through the leather seat. it is cool, very much so. him, despise his bright red ensemble, too. 

you chuckle, “it just doesn’t match your costume,” you confess and he chuckles. “you are like my very own james dean,” you turn your gaze back to him, “very cool to me.”

his look softens, his hand offered to you and helping you when you get on the passenger sit. he speaks again : 

“i promise to take care of you.” he whispers before letting your hand go gently. “i know a good restaurant a couple of blocks away.” you want to ask him if he doesn’t feel a bit ridiculous wearing this. “are you comfortable?

you thank your past self for choosing a black short instead of a skirt to wear with your black top and boots, “yeah,” you nod. “thank you.”

the wind runs through his hair when he takes off his strawberry head. it takes your breath away instantly. he was already beautiful before but now, this is something beyond and different. 

of course, his hair is pink.

“wouldn’t like to see it flying, would we?” he jokes and you only blink, eyes following him as he gets behind the bike and puts the strawberry in the box. he takes a helmet and comes back to you. 

he gets on the bike, so close to you when he turns around. 

your world completely collapse when he puts the helmet on your head for you, “i only got one,” he speaks, eyes focused on his fingers adjusting the helmet. “didn’t know a pretty girl like you would let me carry her around, you know?” 

thankfully, the tinted visor can hide your blushing face. and your stupid smile. halas— it can’t hide your giggles.

“i saw it in a dream of mine,” you respond when he turns around. you embrace his waist, “i knew the trajectory of you life would be changed tonight.” 

heeseung laughs again.

as he starts the engine you whisper in his ear, “is it the part where you tell me to hold on tight?” 

“i think you are doing that already, doll,” he taps your hand. 

and man, what a ride it was.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[5:24 pm]

"Nice try, we don't believe you guys," your friend laughed sarcastically as they walked through your front door to catch sight of you and childhood best friend!Jeno pressed together looking like a loved up couple.

For some reason, over the nearly 20 years of friendship with Jeno, it had become some kind of ongoing bit for the two of you to act like a couple. Usually you had good reason, like someone being annoying and not leaving either of you alone, or someone hitting on either one of you but not getting the hint.

Other times, it was just to mess with your friends, your friends who were far too used to it and tired of it. At least 80% of the hang outs you all had would start with you and Jeno claiming you were a couple. The first few times they fell for it, but now it was just the normal. They weren't tired because it wasn't funny, it was kind of funny. Funny because the two of you were so clearly in love with each other yet refuse to act on it.

Jeno never protected anyone the way he protected you. You didn't care for anyone the way you cared for Jeno. You both had so many inside jokes that the others would never understand. You both could have conversations with just your eyes, you both knew things about the other that no normal friends would know about each other. You were both each other's first call when something went wrong, the first text in the morning, and your last text at night (if you didn't fall asleep while on a call). You both refused to get into relationships with other people, because somethings always felt "wrong."

Yeah, your friends had all decided that you were both idiots and the "wrong-ness" was always just that the potential partner wasn't you or Jeno. However, tonight you and Jeno had decided to commit. Your friends were going to believe it if it was the last thing they did.

"We're actually like really together this time, today is officially one week and 3 days," you tell your friends as you all settle down on the couch to start your movie marathon.

"We've fallen for that too many times now. Just give it up," your friend waves off.

"Yeah, start the movie," another friend sighs.

Jeno gulps, standing suddenly, "I think we would really just appreciate the support of our friends as we navigate our new relationship."

"Look guys, it's the same routine every time. You guys claim to be together and the only difference is that you take your usual affection to another level of annoying. If you were ever actually together, you wouldn't feel the need to announce it every few weeks or still be on dating apps. I mean, Jeno, didn't you ask me just a few days ago why you were still getting Hinge emails?" Your first friend asks, crossing their arms.

"Plus, I think you guys would be that annoying couple that would be shameless and kiss in front of us all the time," another friend pipes up.

Jeno's face falls into a serious look, he grabs your hand and tugs you up. Your chest crashes into his own as your eyes widen in surprise. The plan had simply been to cuddle, giggle, and maybe sit in his lap.

Your friends all paused, eyes full of caution as they watched the two of you. Jeno's breathing was uneven and nervous as his eyes searched your own.

You blinked and his forehead was pressed against your own and as you gasped in surprise his lips met your own. He was still for just a moment, giving you the opportunity to pull away, to smack him, to tell him he was crazy, but you didn't.

Instead, your breath hitched as you kissed him back. His lips were soft and his hands even softer as he delicately cupped your face. Your lips moved in sync, slow, tentative, but meaningful. You could feel your heart pounding in your ears, his heart was beating just as fast under your hand.

Your friends all eyed each other awkwardly. This had never happened before. It was only when your hand moved from Jeno's chest to gripping the cotton at his waist to pull him closer that they all got the message and left while high fiving each other on the way out.

You and Jeno were far too entangled in one another to even care. One of hands went from your face to your waist and the other went to the back of your neck. His gently tilted your head up to kiss you more deeply.

Everything was slow and passionate, but it felt right. There were explosions happening all around you, remnant sparks from Jeno's lips that shot right down your spine. Why had you waited so long to do this? Why had you deprived yourself of this feelings for all these years? You couldn't even fight how your body melted against his as your grip on his shirt became desperate and your lungs burned for air. You couldn't find it in yourself to pull away, too greedy for more, more, more.

Jeno pulled away first, lips swollen and chest heaving as he caught his breath. His forehead was pressed against your own, "I don't think we can be friends anymore."

A choked squeak escaped your throat involuntarily, "I'm sorry?"

"No, don't be sorry. I could have said that better," Jeno chuckles, his hands softly cupping your face to keep you from looking away. "I can't be just friends with you when I don't have friendly feelings for you. I can't believe it took this long, it's always been something in the back of my mind, but I think I love you-- no. I know I love you."

"After that kiss, I don't have friendly feelings for you either. I guess when I think about it, there's no one else that will get me like you. No one will ever know me better than you or understand me like you do. I love you too, Jeno. And I really, really want to keep kissing you," You confess breathlessly.

"I don't think they'd like it if we keep kissing, unfortunately," Jeno sighs, despite his words leaning in toward you again.

It's then that you notice how quiet your living room is. You pull away to look around the room, finally noticing that it's just you and Jeno in your apartment. "What the... when did everyone leave?" You wonder aloud.

"Who cares? Let's keep kissing," Jeno replies, tugging you closer. And who are you to argue?

[fallstaticexit]

Ahhh it's been 65 years, and I feel kinda crazy that I've had this sitting in my drafts for like 2 months. Assuming most readers of Missing Moments are also The Art of Being Seen readers- there's some hefty lore here that will come into play later.

prev/ next

Olive: Time to move on, right Kia?

[phone pings]

Nancy: Hello darling. Do you have a moment to talk?

Olive: Who’s this?

Olive: I don’t recall saying yes.

Nancy: [sighs] It feels so good to hear your voice again.

Olive: I only answered to tell you to block me.

Nancy: I would never.

Olive: Even though I asked?

Nancy: Well. I am incredibly selfish.

Olive: Why did you call me?

Nancy: I would like to see you, Olivia. Please.

Olive: I’m not for sale, sorry.

Nancy: I know. I wouldn’t want to meet on those terms again. If I could do it all over, I would have asked you to have dinner with me when I met you. I would have courted you properly, Olivia.

Olive: [scoffs] You would have gone to a strip club and asked a stripper to have dinner with you? Seriously? When would we have ever met under any other circumstance? It’s been made very clear to me how different we are. The only way this would have happened was if it were a fairy tale.

Nancy: What matters is, I have met you. I’ve experienced you and I can’t go back. My husband- my ex husband- he signed the petition for our divorce. I came out to him- officially. It’s over.

Olive: [stunned] That’s- that’s great. I am so happy for you-

Nancy: I’m leaving all of it. I’m starting over. All I want is you, if you’ll have me.

Olive: [sighs]

Nancy: Let’s just have one dinner and after we’ve talk, then you can decide. There’s so much I want to say, but I want to look you in the eyes as I say it.

Olive: One dinner?

Nancy: One dinner.

Nancy: May I see you tonight? I’ll send my driver and I’ll cook for you at my place. Anything you like.

Olive: Tonight is fine.. sure.

Nancy: [sighs happily] It’ll be hard not to kiss you the moment I see you-

Olive: Not too much, lover girl. It’s one dinner and I’m still very annoyed with you about all this, ok?

Nancy: Yes, my love. I’ll see you tonight.

Olive: And don’t look at me like that. It’s just dinner and a conversation, ok? I am not going to sleep with her ok?

Malcolm: Well. Now I see why my mother was so willing to ruin an entire empire over you. Those mugshots did you no justice.

Olive: What is this? Where’s Nancy?

Malcolm: I noticed our driver was heading this way, I figured I’d tag along. Sight see. Get in. Let’s chat.

Malcolm: I wonder if this feels like dejavu to my mother. She makes yet another thoughtless mistake and someone comes along to make it all go away. She has a nasty habit of that, you know.

Olive: Listen. I’m not feeling whatever family drama you all have going on. I don’t want to talk to you. I want to talk to Nancy.

Malcolm: I was raised by a narcissistic liar and a spineless coward. If I let this company fall apart, then wouldn’t it all had been for nothing?

Olive: [scoffs] So you want pity? I’m suppose to pity you? Give me a break.

Malcolm: Not pity, no. If anything, I pity you.

Olive: Is that right?

Malcolm: When it comes to success, you pale in comparison to your half siblings. You’ve financially crippled your parents in legal fees since your arrest and all you have to show for it is by shaking ass in a low end strip club in the Spice District. That’s right, I know alot about you Olivia Briar.

Malcolm: I know about that quaint little family of yours down in the country. I know about your niece’s struggling restaurant and her undocumented partner. Funny, he’s able to acquire loans under a fake name but there’s no records of a Noa Briar anywhere. I wonder what else your family is hiding.

Olive: [shaken] What is this about? Are you threatening me? What the fuck do you want?

Malcolm: I’m here to help you, not hurt you. One of the greatest lessons I’ve ever learned was the power of the dollar. I can make a lot of your problems go away with one deposit if you do just one thing.

Olive: [softly] ....What?

Malcolm: We’re going to turn around and park in front of your building. You’re going to go upstairs, pack up your things and then, you’re going to go back home to sweet old Henford. You’ll pay your parents back with the money you’ll receive from this arrangement and you’ll help your niece and nephew. All your problems - poof- gone.

Malcolm: All you have to do is walk away, and stay away. You see, my mother has a nasty debt to this family she still needs to pay. Don’t make it your burden.

[pannman]

Alastor's long and detailed meticulous plan to court you goes awry

Alastor sits at the bar*

Reader: hey... Alastor?

Alastor's heart pounds, you're initiating conversation with HIM*

Alastor: how may I help you my dear?

Reader: well I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight?

Alastor tilts his head: hang out?

Reader: I mean... I-I think it would be fun if we went out and did something fun tonight

Alastor begins to panic, this is moving too fast, the plan could be ruined*

Alastor: I'm afraid I have other plans for tonight dearest my apologies

Reader: oh... ok

Reader leaves looking a bit sad*

Husk chuckles behind Alastor*

Alastor: what's so funny?

Husk: you claim you're in love with them and they just asked you out and you said no

Alastor: I have a plan and that was not how it was supposed to go down

Husk: you can't just plan every deta- oh what am I getting myself worked up over? It's not like I care

Alastor starts to think back on his decision*

Alastor approaches reader*

Alastor: hello darling, turns out my plans for tonight got cancelled, so I would be happy to accompany you to a night on the town

Reader: Oh. Sorry Alastor, Lucifer just asked me to hang out tonight

Alastor: sorry what now?

Reader: yeah, he asked if I wanted to go feed the ducks at the park

Alastor's smile strains and his eye twitches*

Alastor: well, I suppose that sounds like a lovely time... enjoy your evening...

Alastor suddenly stiff walks away with static in the air*

Husk: didn't go as planned?

Alastor: shut it!

[spidybaby]

Jealous Mind

Summary: Pedri gets jealous when he overhears someone saying his best friend likes you.

Warnings: cursing, suggestive content.

A/N: a little angsty and a little something for you 🤍

"Joder, you're spraying yourself with the whole bottle of perfume." Ferran says, waving his hand in front of his face.

Pedri chuckles, lifting the bottle and spraying Ferran several times. Ferran tries to fight by grabbing Pedri's wrist and taking the bottle.

"Venga, stop that." Pedri says, slapping Ferran's hand away. "Let's get out of here." He says, grabbing his stuff.

Ferran imitates Pedri, grabbing his toiletry bag. He walks happy behind his friend. Ferran was talking about this new fifa record he got.

"I'll pick Y/n, and then I'll drive you home." Pedri says, smiling at his phone. "I'm talking her out tonight."

Ferran smiles. "Someone's in love." Ferran yells, hitting Pedri's arm.

"Stop!" Pedri laughs. "We are going to crash."

The conversation went from Ferran teasing Pedri to how excited Ferran was about playing fifa and getting to beat someone's record.

Pedri was talking about this new project he has with Springfield and that he has an interview on this famous TV show in Spain.

"Hey, please text Y/n that I'm almost there." Pedri says, passing the phone to Ferran.

Ferran, of course, can not be trusted and start sending silly texts to you. Reading out loud as he writes them, making Pedri laugh.

You were waiting outside for him, and when he parked in front of you, Ferran opened the door of the passenger seat and told you to hoop up.

"You guys are dropping me off in a little bit, so it makes sense to switch now." He says, closing the passenger door and entering the car again.

"Hola, Pepi." You say, giving your boyfriend a kiss.

"Can I have a kiss too?" Ferran asks, head between the seats. His lips in a scrunched in a duck mode.

Pedri laughs, giving Ferran a hit on the head. "Sientate bien." He says, moving his attention to you, giving you another kiss. "Let's go." He says, hands again on the wheel.

You turn to Ferran, "How are you, Ferran?"

"Very good now that you are here with us, preciosa." He says, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You and Ferran have a very good relationship. He loves making jokes with you, he loves giving you advice and he loves your boyfriend, so it's the perfect friendship.

Ferran and you make conversation, Pedri answer here and there to some things you are asking to Ferran.

"We are here, tiburón" Pedri says, parking in front of Ferran's home. "I'll pick you up to get to training tomorrow."

"Adiós, ferran." You say, smiling at him.

"Adiós, platanito." He high five Pedri. "Adiós, guapa." He says, winking at you.

You waved at him as Pedri started the car. You moved your face from the window to your boyfriend.

"How are you, amor?" You ask him, taking the hand he has on the gear lever. "I missed you."

He intertwine his hand on yours, lifting it up to give it a kiss. "I missed you too. Tomorrow the training is in the evening, and that means we can spend all night together."

You smile at that, happy that you can spend time with him. You were busy with your college studies.

"I asked Fer to make us that dessert you like, and we are going to have a movie marathon."

You hug his arm carefully, happy to spend time with him. "I can't wait, Pepi."

"C'mon, guys!" Flick yells. "We are done for the day. I'll see you tomorrow."

Ferran pushed Pedri to the side as he walked into the dressing room. He turns his head back to see pedri giving him the middle finger.

The social media girl was taking a video of them for a reel. "Pidele a Ferran que envie besos." Pedri asks. (Ask Ferran to send kisses)

"Calla' hombre or I'll send your girlfriend some kisses." He says, laughing.

Pedri gave him a hit on the head. "Vete a bañar, que estas apestando." He laughs.

Pedri goes straight to the showers, leaving all the dirt and grass away. He jokes around with other players and talks with them about the game that's about to happen tomorrow.

He changes between conversations with Lamine, with Pau, with Hector. He loves those kids and loves spending time with them.

"Are you ready?" Pedri asks Ferran.

"Give me two minutes." Ferran says, still changing.

"Meet me in my car." He says, grabbing his things and walking to his car.

When he's there. He pulls the window down a little bit. Going on his phone while he waits. He hears the voice of Hector and Marc, he thought of scaring them since the car that they were using was next to his.

"No, but Ferran was right. That girl is a fucking show to the eyes." Marc says.

"Fuck, when he showed us her picture I felt I was dreaming." Hector laughs. "What he said was her name?"

"Y/n, or something." Marc says. "Fuck, to be able to follow her."

Pedri lift an eyebrow. What are they talking about?

"Bro code, Marc."

"I mean, ughh," Marc groans. "Have you seen her? She's fucking gorgeous, if I had a hall pass I would spend it on her."

Pedri was confused and offended at the same time. Why were they even talking about his girlfriend like that?

"Metete en la fila, because Ferran already said he would be the first if he has a chance." (Get in line)

"Con ese culo, I would try to skip everybody." (With that ass)

They both laugh, entering the car and going their way. Pedri feels a fury inside, he doesn't know what to do.

The passenger door opens, and a very happy Ferran joins him inside the car. Pedri breathes deeply. He's trying to calm himself.

"You okay, platanito?"

Pedri turns to him. He can't believe Ferran would be capable of talking like that about you. Not him. Not his best friend.

"Qué-" He tries to ask. "Qué te hizo tardar?" He asks, trying to act normal. (What took you so long)

"Oh, nothing." He brushed the question. "Just talking with the kiddos."

"Oh." Pedri says. "What were you talking about?"

He starts the car. Trying to act like nothing happened. He's gripping the wheel strongly.

"Just showing them some pictures I had."

The grip grows. He's trying everything not to flip. Maybe they got confused, maybe it's other girl with the same name.

Was your name that common? Maybe it was just a coincidence, maybe he didn't say those things to the boys.

"Are we picking Y/n again?" Ferran asks after a moment of silence.

"No!" He quickly says. "She's doing some projects and can't really go out."

"Oh no, say hi to her for me."

Pedri was lost the rest of the drive to Ferran's home. He was trying to order his mind. Why would Ferran say something about his girlfriend?

Especially something like that.

"Thank you for being my ride." Ferran says, hugging Pedri. "I'm getting the car tomorrow so I won't bother you."

"You don't bother." Pedri says. "See you tomorrow."

Ferran waves goodbye as he drives away. Pedri wants to go see you, even when he doesn't plan it nor knows if you are home.

He calls you when he gets to a red light. Trying to clear his mind from what he heard. The phone rings twice before you pick up the call.

"Hola, mi amor." You answer.

"Hola." He says, sighing.

"Are you okay?" You are surprised by his monotone voice. "Did something happen?"

He keeps his mouth shut for a few seconds, worrying you that something might be wrong.

"No, I just want to see you." He finally says. "Can I?"

"You don't have to ask." You chuckle. "Want me to drive to your place? I know you have a game tomorrow, and you have to rest."

"Don't worry, I'm close to your place. See you in a little bit."

He tries to understand what happened, but he can't understand or wrap his head around it. Why would Ferran say that?

He drives to your place, passing by a drive thru and getting food for the two of you. He's supposed to go home and to rest for the game, but he can't.

He walks over to the elevator, going up to the floor your apartment is in. He doesn't get why he feels nervous. Why is he the embarrassed one? Why is he the one with the guilt feeling?

"Hola, mi guapo," you say, opening the door and hugging him. "What you got in there?" You ask, separating from the hug.

"Your favorite food and some dessert for us to see a movie." He walks with you inside the apartment.

He closes the door, passing an arm around your waist. He goes straight for a kiss. Seeing you makes him feel happy.

You set up the things while he picks a movie for you to see. He helps you move the food from the kitchen to the coffee table in front of your couch.

He picked a creed movie, one of his favorites. You two make small talk as you eat and watch the movie.

He notices that you are on your phone, smiling at something and texting someone. "Attention much?" He jokes with you.

"Sorry, I'm watching a tik tok ferran send me." You say, chuckling at something.

He frowns, not wanting to think about what he overheard. He moves his arm behind you, grabbing your phone and kissing your lips.

"You look so pretty." He smiles, giving you another peck. "Did I tell you that?"

You smile, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. "Only like a thousand times." You laugh.

He humms. Smiling and resting his head into your chest. "Love you."

You hear three knocks on your door. You put the cup on the table and walk to the door. Finding your boyfriend there.

"Hola, camarón sin cola." You say, happy to see him. "Didn't know you were coming, baby."

You move to the side for him to get inside. He walks happy to your living room, stopping when he sees Ferran sitting on your couch.

"Ferran is helping me with a project." You say, walking back to your seat next to Ferran. "He's such a helpful study buddy." You hug Ferran's side.

Pedri feels his eye twitching. "What's the project about?" He asks, seating in front of you two.

"She's writing about Valencia." Ferran says. "And I'm helping her with some information my mom sent me."

You lift the papers, showing pedri that you were writing about it. "I was going to write about Tenerife, but your parents were busy, and I didn't want to seem pushy about it." You pout.

He smiles. "It's okay." He says, getting up and giving you a kiss. "I'm happy that Ferran helped you."

You nod, squishing Ferran cheek. "He's a good friend." You smile at Pedri.

Pedri was on his phone while Ferran was showing and giving you all the information. Pedri couldn't help but notice how Ferran was a little closer than he should.

He didn't make a scene. He didn't want to seem exaggerated. He feels bad for doing that, he can't help but think that maybe he heard wrong.

You two work for another hour or so. Pedri was like an eagle. He doesn't leave out every breath, every movement, and every look Ferran does.

"Bueno." Ferran says, getting up. "It was a nice experience, happy to be helpful." He says, stretching.

"Thank you, Ferran." You say, giving him a hug. "If I get a good grade, I'll invite you to lunch." You say, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I promise."

Pedri sighs, trying not to act weird about something he never found weird. "Adiós, tiburón." He says, giving him a hand shake.

He waits until Ferran exits your house. He then bugs you from the back, giving you neck a kiss. "I missed you." He says.

You giggle at the feeling of his stubble. "You've been here this whole time, Pedri."

He pouts, resting his head on your shoulder. "But you were busy with Ferran." He says in this annoyed tone.

You turn, facing him. "I'm all yours." You say, grabbing his face and smashing your lips onto his.

You feel his hands moving from your waist to your ass, lifting you but not breaking the kiss. He walks over to your room.

The kiss breaks only when he leaves you on the bed. He admires you, looking at your face. With one finger, he traces your jaw and lips.

"Eres mia." He says, more to himself than to you.

"Soy tuya, Pedri." You place your hand on the back of his neck. Bringing you closer and kissing his lips.

You finish with yourself makeup, adding some lip oil to your lips. "Pedri, I'm leaving." You say, closing your bedroom door.

He was watching something on your TV. Playing potato. He lifts his head to look at you. "Where are you going?" He pouts. "I thought we were ordering food."

You walk over to him, combing his hair with your fingers. "I can't, Ferran and I are having dinner, and then I'll go with my friends to the club." You smile.

"With Ferran?" He asks, sitting up from his place. "Why are you going out with him?" He asks, mad face.

You don't understand his reaction, "yes, I got an amazing grade in the paperwork." You smile, not understanding the problem. "So I promised him to take him out to eat."

"And you are going out wearing that?"

You take a look at your outfit, you are wearing a jeans mini skirt with a white tank top (the outfit) nothing you would call crazy or out of place.

"I always dress up like these when I go out." You say, obvious tone. "Why does that even matter?"

He stands up. "I'm coming with you." He says, grabbing his jacket.

You shake your head. "No, you are not." Grabbing him by the shoulders and seating him. "I'm going out with Ferran, not an unknown person. And then I'll go out with my friends."

You walk to your wood rack, grabbing your purse and keys. You were about to leave, but you feel Pedri's arm bringing you back to the couch.

"Pedri!" You whine. "What is wrong with you?" You ask, getting mad.

"I just don't think you should go out dressed like that." He says, standing in front of you.

"Joder, pero que no te estoy preguntando, Chaval!" You say, mad about the acting he's putting. (Fuck, I'm not asking you if I can)

"It's cold, you might get sick." He says, trying to excuse the real reason.

"Talk to me!" You say, grabbing his hand.

"Está frío, look at the weather app." He repeats.

You shake your head no, trying to understand his reasonings. You then think of a way of getting out of there since he didn't want to talk.

You nod, pretending to understand him. "Fine, can you bring me my jacket?" You say, smiling. "It's on the closet, left door. Then we can go."

He nods happy, walking over to your room. As soon as you notice that he enters your room. You grab your purse again and walk out the door. Locking it on your way out.

He had a key, so it didn't matter. That was just giving you time to go down to your car. You enter happy, noticing that he tries to calm you, but you send him to voice mail.

You drive to the restaurant, phone ringing with the calls from Pedri. You park and grab your phone, answering his call. "Hola." You say, happy tone.

"Why did you leave me?" He asks, mad. "I told you I was going with you."

"And I told you no." You say, getting out of your car. "See you when I get back, love you." You make a kiss sound and hang up the call.

You walk into the restaurant, telling the girl at the front Ferran's last name. You see him on his phone.

"Can I sit, Mister Torres?" You ask, smiling.

"Hola, guapa." He says, getting up and hugging you. "Sit, sit."

He helps you with the chair. You order a drink and your food because you were a little late.

"How's Aida?" He asks, moving his eyebrows up and down. "I was talking to her before coming here. She told me you guys were having a girls' night."

"We do." You say, playful smile on your face. "She told me that you guys have been talking a lot."

Ferran blushes. "Don't give me that look." He says, covering his face. "I'm shy."

"You didn't sound shy last time we got out and slept at her house." You laugh, remembering what happened.

"I can play that game, too." He says, moving his eyebrows up and down. "Don't forget that time. I had a very bad sleep because someone doesn't know how to control the volume."

It's your turn to blush. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Sure, sure." He laughs at your blushed state. "Pedri remembers." He smirks, drinking his beer.

You frown. "Talking about Pedri."

"What, a new adventure you want to tell me about?"

You think if you should really tell him about what happened, but you want to know what might be triggering for him.

You tell Ferran about the incident and how he never asked you to change or to cover yourself before. You ask him if maybe he changed his attitude during training.

"He's been kind of away from me, I wanted to ask you about it." He says, thinking about the whole situation. "I thought you knew about it."

You nod, not really knowing anything of what was happening. You shake your head, moving to another topic.

Ferran and you talk about different things. One of them and the largest was about him asking you for advice on him and your friend.

"I really like her." He says, walking with you to your car. "I just hope I don't fuck things up."

"You won't." You smile, grabbing his hands and giving them a squish. "Hey, Pedri is at my place. If you have time maybe come with me so we can talk."

He nods, telling you that he will follow you on his car. You thank him, driving to your place.

On the way there, you called Pedri, who was still mad at you for leaving him there. You tell him that you will be there in a few minutes.

When you got there, Ferran and you were talking about something Aida sent him. You sent her a picture of the two of you from his phone.

Telling her that you will free him as soon as possible. You also apologize to her for not coming to your girls' night.

"Pepi" You call as you enter your home. "Pedri!"

You ask Ferran to wait for you. You walk over to your room, finding him watching a movie, mad expression on his face.

"Amor, don't be mad." You smile a little. Walking over to him and hugging him.

You feel his arms hugging you back, his warm lips kissing your head. "I'm not mad." He says. "Why are you here so early?"

"I wanted to come home to you." You kiss the top of his nose. "And I have someone who wants to see you."

He frowns, "Who?"

You separate, pulling him out of bed and out off the room. "I know I didn't give you a heads up, but we are worried about you." You say, walking to the kitchen.

"Hola, platanito." Ferran greet him.

Pedri sighs, getting mad at him for showing up at your house. "Why is he here?" He asks.

Your turn to him, astonished by his question. "Pedri, Ferran wants to see if you are okay."

"Amigo, I'm sorry if I've been so distant. I don't know what is going on, but I'm here for you." He smiles.

"I'm good, you can leave." Pedri says, turning his back and trying to walk back to your room.

You stop him, grabbing his t-shirt. "Pedro, stop acting like this. Talk to us." You say, stern tone.

Pedri combs his hair, trying to keep his cool and not snap at his friend. He just shakes his head no.

He walks over to the couch. Ferran and you follow him. You sit next to him, he has his head on his hands.

"Pedri, please talk to us." You begg him.

He lifts his head, looking mad at Ferran. "Want to know the problem?" He asks Ferran.

"Joder, que si!" Ferran says.

"Tú eres el problema."

Ferran and you look at each other. Confused look on your faces. "Pedri, what are you talking about?" You ask him.

"Este imbecil." Pedri says, bitter tone. "Le dijo a Hector y Marc que si estabas buenisima, que si tuviera una oportunidad contigo la aprovechaba." He says to you, pointing at Ferran. (This asshole told Hector and Marc that you were so hot and that if he had a chance with you, he would take it)

You turn your face to Ferran, surprised expression. "Ferran, what the fuck!" You say.

Ferran lifts his hands. "I didn't say that."

Pedri scuffs. "I heard them. They even mentioned that you showed them a picture of her and that they want to follow her just to look at her." He shouts, mad.

Ferran thinks of what happened that day. "I never talked about your girlfriend." He says, chuckling. "I was talking about her friend."

Pedri blinks, confused.

"Qué amiga?" He asks (what friend?)

Ferran takes his phone out, opens Instagram, and searches for your friend's Instagram profile. "See, even the mother fucker of Hector gave her a like on the picture I show them." He says.

"Then why did they say her name was Y/n?" Pedri asks, mad low tone.

Ferran laughs. "Because I told them she was Y/n's friend because I didn't want them to find her."

You then turn to him. "Is that why Hector followed me? To look at my following list?" You ask.

"I would never betray you, hermano." Ferra says, getting closer to him. "I promise."

Pedri softens his expression. "No me estas mintiendo, tiburón?" He asks, pouting. (You are not lying to me, right?)

Ferran then hits him on the head. "I would never look at your girlfriend in any sexual way. She's my friend and so are you."

Ferran throws his arms around Pedri, making Pedri lose the pout. "Enough, I'm still mad." Pedri says, getting off the hug but passing his arm around your waits. "I'm sorry, I was dumb. Sorry to you, hermosa. And to you too, Tiburon."

You understood the situation, hugging him. "Next time, please talk to us about any doubt you ever get." You say.

Pedri nods, kissing your cheek.

"Quieres quedarte, Ferran? It's late." You ask him.

He shakes his head. "No, thank you. I want to be able to sleep." He laughs, refering to the talk you two have over dinner.

You grab a pillow from the couch and throw it at him. "Go away, Torres." You say. Turning to see Pedri, who's laughing. "And you, quit it, or you'll sleep on the couch." You smile a little.

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl 💛

[black--sun]

The sound of that laugh tickles his ear and tightens his stomach. Ichigo’s eyes slide to Shiro. He feels haunted now. But even being haunted would be better than telling himself Shiro was gone and never coming back. He huffs out a breath and finds a smirk. “Yeah, let’s just see how things shake out over the next few days first. I might go first.” Getting distracted with sex is a bad idea, not that he expects they’ll actually sidestep that obstruction. He nods, but it’s a hesitant motion because he’s not sure he should agree to that. But they’re just talking. It doesn’t mean any of this will happen. They’ve always been like that.

He thinks Shiro is just trying to cover his ass in the conversation so he doesn’t look too involved, but the words are a little disappointing. He’s not even sure why.

Ichigo scoffs then repeats, “Fancy reading…” with an eye roll. It’s not even inaccurate, he just doesn’t like his job being reduced to two, semi-dismissive words. But he calls Shiro a drug dealer all the time, so maybe that’s hypocritical. He crosses his arms and presses his lips. “I just like the idea that someone three centuries ago put their words onto paper, and I can pick them up now, hundreds of years after they’re gone, and it’s still relevant. No one lives forever, but we do live on.” It’s completely inappropriate to butt up against all that sex talk, but he ignores that and presses on. “You’ve always been more than clear about that.” Maybe that’s why Ichigo has so much trouble picking people up. He isn’t clear about when he wants someone. He doesn’t even want that many people, but unless they’re completely obvious with their interest, he doesn’t know what to do. Like Grimmjow and Orihime, then Shiro and Yuu. Huh. Maybe that is his problem.

Shiro narrows his eyes, and those words carry just enough sass Ichigo can’t help his smirk. If Ichigo disliked Shiro’s tastes, he wouldn’t want in his closet so bad. But someone needs to harass Shiro. There’s no way he puts up with it from all those lackeys he keeps around. Then again, Shiro was always sensitive to comments about what he wears. “I’m joking. I wouldn’t want to shop with you if I thought you were bad at it.”

Ichigo glances over as they walk, then shrugs. “It’s just all the way out here. I have that job to finish. I can’t be everywhere.” And he doesn’t want Shiro alone. But Shiro seems… disappointed. Maybe Shiro likes it better out here. Maybe there’s less pressure. There’s also a lot more opportunity to murder him quietly. “If you’re really planning to go with me on that job, we need to think about where we’re going to be.” That meeting is in the early hours of the morning. Either really late tonight or really early tomorrow depending on how he looks at it. Ichigo’s guessing it’s normally a time Shiro is sleeping off whatever he’s on. They have enough time to get a little sleep before heading out for a long day that’ll end with him sneaking into a high rise. “But if you’d rather stay somewhere with your boyfriend, you can just tell me.”

“Yeah.” Ichigo circles the SUV Shiro points out, checking the outside before crawling under it. He’s not sure they’d use the same method twice, but he’d be an idiot not to check. He shimmies back out a few minutes later, clicking off the light on his phone. “It’s clear. Drop me off by my car. I’ll follow you.”

"About my- ?" He almost says boyfriend, but stops himself and shrugs. "I dunno. I guess I did. It's hard not to wonder if the cop you're bangin', who clearly knows who the biggest drug dealer in town is, is just being a cop. Under cover or whatever. Maybe it just looked less suspicious to be upfront about it when I asked him if he was a cop. You were worried about that girl in my bathroom, but the cop would be the right way to do it." Shiro's aware of his own weaknesses. A hot guy with that added element of forbidden and dangerous that being a police officer brings certainly got his attention.

He tosses his phone onto the bed after sending Ichigo the lady's contact info. He knows Ichigo would treat her right if he contacts her at all.

That laugh sounds uncomfortable. Part of him wishes they could dispense with the trying they're both doing, the other part of him is grateful for the efforts. "It's true, I been bad at not giving you what you want from the very start." Shirt? But it only takes him a second, because when he moved out of his apartment he found that shirt. He thought about giving it to Renji to give back to Ichigo, but he couldn't quite make himself do it. "That was your favorite?"

He gets his answer the moment Ichigo looks at him. They know each other well enough for him to read Ichigo just fine. It's flattering. Then the verbal answer Ichigo gives is weirdly touching. It's very sweet, and maybe too honest, but he finds himself liking it anyway. If they can't be together, maybe they can at least be on good terms. Even not being partners, he likes Ichigo's company.

He snorts. "Of course I did, I look good in or out of anything." But being put to bed sounds nice. Warm and cozy and comfortable sounds nice. He is tired, mentally at least. He offers up a little half smirk at the reassurance. "Let's get outta here. Where do you wanna go?"

[sincere1ystar]

Shining just for you

coriolanus snow x fem! reader

After things get messed up between the two of you at the gala, Corioanus is desperate to fix things between you two again

authors note: guys when i mean desperate i mean DESPERATEEEE

Everyone always said that the C in Coriolanus Snow stood for calculating. What a silly saying, because when it came to you the C in Coriolanus Snow stood for clueless.

The image he built himself as a man who oozes with power crumbles in a matter of seconds around you. You liked it that way, you knew it was just a persona and if life hadn’t pushed him around the way he did he would’ve stayed soft.

When the two of you first met you didn’t fall pity to his charms like the rest of the peers around you. He liked that about you, you were diligent. You had beauty and brains, unlike those lifeless souls that threw themselves at him as they fluttered their eyelashes. He considered himself lucky to call himself yours and he wasn’t afraid to show it either. Every gala he was there right on your arm, and if you didn’t encourage him to go converse with the other party-goers  to others he probably would have stayed there.

You had built a home in Coriolanus’s heart, love was too weak a word to describe his emotions towards you. He didn’t consider himself a violent man, but for you he wasn’t afraid to roughen up the edges of himself. To make his image seem more powerful than it already was, so people would fear him and not even think about hurting you. 

Of course he got invited to many galas, it was only natural considering he had made a name for himself now. Still, he viewed them all as pointless affairs and if you weren’t so fond of going to them he wouldn’t bother to even step foot in the venue. 

Although his signature color is a shade of deep red, he often matched whatever color you were wearing. Tonight it was a cerulean blue to match your dress of the same color. The only thing that stayed the same was the white rose in his handkerchief pocket that eventually ended up behind your ear. 

As you’re finishing up the final touches to your look Coriolanus comes behind you, adjusting the straps of your dress as he leaves soft kisses on your neck.

“Coryo we’re gonna be late-“, you try to protest but he quickly silences you with a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“We can spare a few minutes can’t we darling?”, he cooed.

By the time you manage to drag him to the car sent for you two, you’re already late to the party. Not like Coriolanus cares though, it was time well spent.

Usually when the two of you arrive to any sort of event, he would stick by your side for atleast the first part of it until some buisnessmen or some senator pulled him away. But this time since your arrival was later than usual, the minute you two walked through the doors some of his fellow associates dragged him off to discuss business. You don’t mind much, knowing he has work to do as you walk over to a few friends of your own.

While you enjoy yourself, chatting away like the social butterfly you are, Coriolanus finds the whole event to be tedious and torturous . He wasn’t even paying attention to what his colleagues were saying, too busy stealing glances at you giggling as your friend told a story about her latest date. He’s so intrigued by observing you as if he was stuck in some trance, that he doesn’t notice Aurelia, a woman married to a local senator whom she openly despised, practically throwing herself at him.

He doesn’t snap out of it , not until he feels her red painted lips slightly touch the tip of his ear. The only thing he feels in that moment is utter disgust. The fact that someone other than you attempt to get this close to him was appalling. Did she not see the wedding band on his finger?

After chatting away with your friends for a while, you politely excuse yourself to make your way to Coriolanus since it seems that all his fellow politician friends have now left. Just as you’re about to approach him, you notice her. The woman who is all over Coriolanus, as if she wasn’t married already to another senator and he wasn’t already yours.

You’ve always been the confrontational type, which is why it’s no surprise when you come up right beside them ready to tell Aurelia to back off. Well that was before you overheard her say in that sultry voice of hers, “A man like you shouldn’t be stuck at some flimsy party like this Coriolanus. I bet you want to get out of here don’t you? Y’know my hotel room is better than any party…”

Before Coriolanus responds, you storm out with anger hot on your heels. How dare he. You decide to just go home, taking the car despite Coriolanus still searching for where you went. He can find his own way home. Better yet why doesn’t he get a ride with Aurelia, surely there’s another spot left in her husband’s car.

Your rage doesn’t die down, even as you reach the manor and tuck yourself into bed. You don’t have too much time to notice how empty it seems with Coriolanus’s side of the bed being vacant before he rushes in, his words overflowing out of his mouth. But it’s all a blur to you, tuning him out completely as you shift your body to face the wall while pulling the blanket up.

It’s not until late at night just as you’re about to fall asleep, when you realize he’s begging.

“Darling.. darling please”, he mumbles almost pitiably. He continues desperately kissing your skin with your back still turned to him. “Didn’t even notice what she was doing.. was too busy looking at you”.

You don’t say anything in response and continue staying still, but you’re not pushing him away and Coriolanus takes this as a sign to keep going. “I pushed her away the minute I noticed what she was doing. I would never be unfaithful to you darling, you know that… you’re the only one for me”.

The stubborn part of you wanted to continue to ignore him, but the more reasonable side of you decided to hear him out. “I suppose… I was overreacting just a little bit. Fine”-, you start before you were cut off by his kisses.

“Thank you. Thank you sweetheart… I know I don’t deserve it”, he rasped while leaving little frantic kisses all over your face, “Don’t deserve your forgiveness. Don’t deserve you”.

“Not so stoic and cold are you now Coriolanus Snow?”, you think to yourself. Oh how funny it would be if all his politician friends see how he acted under your finger.

[yuanist]

kuroo texts you at 3:52 am, almost three months after you broke up.

admittedly, you probably should've silenced notifications from him by now, but when you roll over—eyes barely open, a little headache from the light—you know you're much, much too late.

a text, from your ex-boyfriend, the big, blue bubble stretched across your phone.

i just moaned your name during sex.

you blink at the screen.

you what?

moaned your name, he sends. totally ruined the moment.

you look up, and then down, and then up one more time to make sure what you’re looking it is real and not some strange, midnight hallucination before typing again.

you’re fucking with me, right?

dead serious, he replies. worst moment of my life.

you can hear his voice in the text, and if you weren’t so caught up in thinking about the poor girl who probably just had the worst sexual experience of her life, you would laugh.

you need to find a hobby or something, tetsurou. you send. and preferably one that doesn't involve tinder.

i have hobbies!

non-sexual ones?

he types for a while before a short, little totally! pops up on his side of the conversation.

and you hate that this is the part of him that’s most intriguing. the unintentional charm, too weird for his own good part that keeps you texting him at four in the morning.

yeah, you send, quicker than you intended. totally.

and suddenly, you're really considering something you shouldn't. before tonight, you hadn't heard from in a while—at least not enough to be thinking about him. you'd resigned yourself to your little, single life and you figured boyfriends might be more harm than they're worth (at least for a while, anyway), but now you have a new little do you wanna come over? typed out into your messaging app, finger hovering over the send button.

you take a minute, trying to rationalize.

the responsible part of you thinks it's way too late to be asking for anything good. you have class in the morning, and you're all tucked into bed, and bringing him here would really stir up some old feelings you weren't looking to bring back right now.

the other part of you—the more fun of the two, you'll admit—knows that you're thinking about him and he's... definitely thinking of you, so what's the harm in indulging a little bit? maybe nothing would happen anyway and you'd just end up staring at each other for a while, but sitting in your bed alone, staring doesn't sound like the worst thing in the world.

you send the text.

there's radio silence for a moment, and you think you might have just fucked the whole we can be exes and friends! thing up, but after a moment or two, he replies.

really?

and you sigh, don't make me change my mind.

he sends an immediate be there in 10, and you flop yourself back into the pillows.

now, okay, you'd be lying if you said you haven't been in this situation before. you and kuroo have always had a strange habit of—gravitating towards each other, to put it politely. it doesn't matter how many times you guys swear each other off, there's always going to be a party, or a text, or a run-in at the grocery store that brings you together (in more ways than one).

the whole i just moaned your name thing, though, that one's new.

your eyes flicker up to the ceiling, then down to your feet, and then, finally, your phone—the reality of this whole thing sinking in a little.

are you supposed to—shave your legs for this? put on your good pajamas: the ones that ride up a little when you bend over? is that where this is going? you're pretty sure it is, but every time this has happened before, it's been a little more spontaneous than this. right now, you have time to prepare and time to think, which you're now realizing is something you really did not want.

you sit there for a minute, coming to the conclusion that this is kuroo. you dated for two years, and you shared a bed at night for more of that time than you'd care to admit, so what does it matter how prepared you are?

you hear a key turn in the front door (the one from under the mat; you took away his actual key you think) and, all of a sudden, you're kind of nervous.

you haven't felt this way in a while, especially when it comes to him. you think you might hate it.

nevertheless, your feet hit the floor and you let yourself pad your way into the entryway, just in time to see someone sliding his shoes into the gap between the doorway and the wall.

you flick the light on, and he jumps a little.

a beat of silence, and then, "hi."

that's all you can come up with right now, truly, and you blame half of it on the time and the other half on the fact that kuroo looks like that.

he's always been pretty, no doubt about that, but right now he looks a little beat up in a way that you have to admit you're kind of into.

his hair's messed up: half of it shifted more left than right, with a little curl to it that he doesn't normally have. his cheeks are red, and he's a sort of out of breath and—did he run here?

"hi," he says, smiling, heaving out a breath.

(oh, he totally did. maybe you're a little more alluring than you thought).

you chuckle out one more, final hi, before he steps towards you.

he smells good—not that that's something you focus on, obviously—but he's still wearing that cologne you bought him last christmas and there's a little tinge of sweat to him that suits him so much better than you'd think.

he has a t-shirt on—one you got from a concert a couple years ago; you can't remember exactly when anymore, but it's clear that the thing has gotten its wear. the hole in the left shoulder is glaring at you from here and you kind of want to poke it.

"i have your key, by the way," he says then, dangling the little thing between his fingers. "did you ask for it back?"

oops.

"i—meant to." you snatch it from him, tossing it onto one of the side tables. "definitely meant to."

his hand lingers there for a second, a big, toothy smile spread across his face. "oh, sure you did."

and you eye him, a short what's that supposed to mean? rolling out of your lips.

he shakes his head, moving closer again—so much so that you can feel the cast of his breath along your cheeks.

"you still like me," he says, and you swear you can see his vocal cords bob in his throat.

"pardon?"

"you think i'm fun—and endearing, and still worthy of a house key."

"i think you're nuts." you say, fluttering your lashes a little. "and really not in the position to be making these accusations."

"you really think so?" he leans in one more time, close enough that his lips brush that arch between your jaw and your neck. "go ahead—tell me all about how crazy i am."

you feel something inside you quiver.

this right here, this is the whole game between the two of you. some sick little cat-and-mouse thing that always leads to something that you regret in the morning and—inevitably—repeat next week.

truthfully, though, you're getting kind of sick of fighting it.

"god, i can't stand you." you back away, edging towards the hallway that leads to your room. "are you coming with me or what?"

and he grins, because of course he is.

reblogs are appreciated! ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[sainzfav]

❝︎ must be fate ❞︎ … joe burrow pt.1

left you out there standing

summary - after a tragic loss to the ravens, joe finds himself pissed and frustrated. on the contrary, a marylander visiting her parents, getting a break from the busy new york life finds herself crossing paths with a certain quarter back

pairing - joe burrow x fem!reader

song inspo - n/a

warnings! - cursing, alcohol

word count - 1.4K

authors note - this takes place at the november 7th, 2024 game when the bengals played the ravens!

"Fuck"

Joe said under his breath. The Bengals lost 35-34 to the Ravens.

"It's just an away game, man, we'll get them next time, trust," Alex said, coming up behind Joe.

"Alex, we were up for half the fucking game, then because we got lazy, we lost," Joe said, pissed off about the outcome of the game.

It was true; they got lazy. It started off great for the Bengals. The Ravens weren't playing well, and that was enough to get two touchdowns ahead, but the fourth quarter came, and the Bengals got lazy. Even when the Ravens threw a touchdown pass instead of wasting time, leaving the Bengals with about a minute of playtime, the Bengals still managed to lose.

"I don't want to hear any fucking excuses, we lost cause we were dumb and lazy, now get out of my face."

Joe's tone was sharp and angry. There was no "bright side" to this situation. They had the perfect opportunity to win and didn't take it.

-

*liked by alexconsani, charlidamelio, and 1.6M+ others*

ynofficial gotta love a w

"Wow Y/n, over 1.5 mill already, you're insane"

Y/n whipped her head around.

"Maya, you're fucking joking... 1.5 million?! There's no way"

"How are you surprised? People love a good casual post, anyway, what's the plan for tonight? Are we going out, back to your parent's house? What are we doing?"

"I feel like we have to go out, right? Plus, I wanna show you the bars around Baltimore. We could do a little bar hopping night, how does that sound?"

"Oh my god, perf" Maya exclaims, going back to scrolling on her phone.

Maya and Y/n had been friends since college, and she was truly the one person who treated Y/n like a normal person.

Y/n then connected her phone to the car to play her music through.

"Play some Pitbull, I want to get hype for the bars," Maya says loudly from the backseat. Y/n chuckles and rolls her eyes while finding a good Pitbull song to put on.

-

"Joe, some of the guys and I are going out, how about you join us. I know it was a shitty game, but going to a bar or somethin' is probably better than sitting alone like a loner," Tee says, reaching to the seat in front of him, putting a hand on Joe's shoulder.

"I'll think about it"

"Well, hurry up, cause once we get back to the hotel, we're all gonna shower and get ready and shit to go out"

"Yeah, alright"

Joe was honestly not as much of a "going out" person as some of his other teammates, but going out to distract from the shit game that just happened did seem appealing.

-

The sound of the music and conversation filled Y/n's ears the second she and Maya stepped into the bar. The electric atmosphere was impossible to ignore, and a feeling of excitement flooded over Y/n.

"This is the best bar in Baltimore; the vibes are always so good, and their drinks are the best," Y/n tells Maya.

After about 45 minutes, Maya is gone, nowhere to be seen, leaving Y/n on a bar stool as she drinks the last of her vodka cranberry.

Just as Y/n is about to order another drink, she feels a presence next to her. She turns her head and notices a familiar figure.

Joe fucking Burrow?! Y/n thinks to herself. What a coincidence, holy shit.

Joe Burrow was the last person Y/n expected to see at a bar. Actually, she hadn't even thought about it once, but here she was.

He looked pretty pissed, which made sense after tonight's game. Just then, a loud voice came closer to where Y/n was sitting.

"Joe! Whatcha order?"

It was Tee Higgins, whose mood was the complete opposite of Joe's.

"I don't know, hey... Mike? What's your best drink?" Joe asks the bartender, reading the name tag.

"It's basic, but how about an Old Fashioned? Can't go wrong with that"

"Yeah, alright, I'll have that"

Joe then glances over and gives Y/n a weak smile, then looks down to notice her Ray Lewis jersey, chuckling to himself as he looks down at the bar table.

Y/n notices his face and immediately feels awkward.

"Would you like another vodka cranberry miss?" The bartender asks

"Oh, uh, yes, please, that would be great!" Y/n says, getting caught off guard by the bartender, still feeling awkward about sitting next to Joe.

Should have planned to go out and wear something other than a fucking jersey. This is so fucking awkward.

"Good night for you guys, huh?" Joe suddenly says, breaking the awkward silence between the two.

"Yeah, and rough one for you?"

"Yup. So, you from around here? Not to be weird or anything"

Y/n smirks at his comment. For a star, Quarter Back, he's a little awkward and shy.

"Sorta, I mean, I'm from Maryland, Annapolis to be specific, but I live in New York"

"Oh nice, what brought you to New York?"

"Work, I'm an actress, so everything I do is pretty much over there and on occasion, LA"

Never in a million years did I think I would be making small talk with Joe Burrow at a local bar in Baltimore, but here we are.

"Oh sick, how is that life? It seems like it would be crazy"

Y/n chuckles at his response. Being an actress is not a normal job by any means, and it's always so chaotic, but it's Y/n's passion.

"It is, but I wouldn't give it up for the world"

"That's pretty cool"

Just then a loud, drunk Maya comes over.

"Holy shit, Y/n, I met the hottest guy, and he bought me a drink, but then it turns out he has a girlfriend, well, they also just broke up because he bought me a drink, and oh my god, is that Joe Burrow?"

Joe starts laughing a little while Y/n covers her face in embarrassment. Maya was probably the most outgoing person Y/n knew. She was never afraid to speak her every thought, which sometimes led to awkwardness.

"Y/n, pretty name"

Y/n blushes at Joe's compliment, catching her completly off guard.

"Thanks," She says kindly, still partially embarrassed of Maya's story.

"Well, if you don't mind, Joe Burrow, I'm taking my best friend dancing, so kiss your goodbyes, and Y/n lets go"

"Hold on, let me get your number. I've had a shitty day on top of a shitty week, and our conversation, although short, has been nice."

Was Joe Burrow really asking for my number?

"Uh, yeah"

He then gives Y/n his phone for her to type in her number. After she adds her contact, Maya practically pulls her arm off, dragging her away from the bar, leaving her drink and Joe behind.

-

The next day, Y/n woke up to a line of texts from Maya.

Maya: Heyyyy, Y/n, so I know I said I would get an Uber back to your house, but I'm at a guy's apartment right now.

Maya: You up, Y/n? I assume you're still in bed, actually, but I'm at this guy Derek's apartment, just letting you know.

Maya: Y/n

Maya: Y/n

Maya: Y/n

Maya: Well, love you, I'll be back at your parents sometime today.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Y/n rubs her eyes, trying to wake up more and make sense of Maya.

Just then she get's another text.

Rolling her eyes, expecting Maya, she checks her texts.

Instead, it's an unnamed number.

(513)111-1111: Hey, it's Joe!

Y/n sits up immediately. Sure, she gave him her number, but she didn't expect him to actually text her.

Holy shit

Y/n: Hey! It's Y/n

Joe: Yeah, I remember haha

Joe: Also, how's your friend? I saw you leaving the bar, but she stayed with this guy, who, and I mean no disrespect, looked like a douche...

Y/n: She's fine, at least I'm pretty sure. She texted me this morning that she's at this guy Derek's house, and she seems fine. She said she'll be coming back to my parent's house sometime today. All is good, haha. Thanks for asking, though!

Joe: Okay that's good. Well I gotta do some shit for press, but I'll talk to you later, Y/n.

Y/n: Have fun! ;)

And with that, Y/n turns off her phone, all of a sudden smelling the sweet smell of bacon from downstairs.

[ivysprophecy]

slim pickins

warnings; bad date? mentions of sex, cursing underage drinking and yes i meant for it to be written poorly i was trying to keep the humor of the album in the writing

no pressure tags; @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

word count; 1911

summary; youre tired of not finding a decent guy who will treat you right and lay you right. at least not one you've known since you were kids. however you just cant help yourself. besides its slim pickins out here you take what you can get.

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

i wanna make one thing clear, when i say there are no good guys left i do not wanna hear about you and your boyfriend of three years that can cook and loves your mom.

thats exactly what im talking about maddie!!! i dont give two fucks that he took you to barnes and noble and bought you every book you wanted.

they are all taken. its plain and simple.

which is why even with a full roster, im stuck taking fucking zander, yes with a z, to my friends' kegger.

i mean yea hes cute. hes tall, built but not that gross kind of muscly. but if were being real i shouldve known better when he was joking about being a male stripper when hes a ginger.

and i can tell kie is judging me, rightfully so. her side eye is lethal. when i introduced him to everyone she asked him about his greta van fleet tee and he said he didn't even know it was a band.

needless to say pope had to drag her away.

after that incident i decided it was best if we tried to talk away from the rest of the group. boy was i wrong.

"so what do you like to drink? ill go grab us something," i offer trying to start the conversation, also avoiding the usual problem with taking a drink from men.

"im good with whatever"

i like to think im not a violent person, but im about to be.

"does a beer sound okay?" i ask him grabbing a twisted tea for me from the cooler.

"sure thing." god why is he acting like such a bitch? i should ask him if he's on his period.

i hand him the can, our fingers brush and its my final clue for the night that i am definitely not going home with him. no spark at all. hes done just about everything else to piss me off.

he did the thing where he licks his lips exaggeratingly looking me up and down, making a point to make sure i saw.

he walks so slow for being 6'3.

and finally he tried to mansplain my career to me. i'd had just enough when he opens his mouth again

"ew, you like twisted tea? who likes sweet tea?" his face contorted in disgust, it was about to contort from my fist breaking his goddamn nose if he keeps talking to me like this.

"we literally live in the south dude." my face could not make it any clearer i am so done with this guy.

"still, sweet tea is disgusting. im not kissing anyone that drinks that nasty shit."

"who said i wanted to kiss your nasty fucking mou-" i was interrupted by the sound of a very familiar giggle behind me as his arm wrapped around my shoulder, the smell of his deodorant and sea salt that cover his skin start to put you at ease.

jj was always there when you needed him, sometimes even when you didnt but right now you couldn't be more grateful. "im glad you found those mama i got em just for you. remembered theyre your favorite. right?"

and you wanna know the best part? zander is shaking already pissed off that jj is at my side. territorial i guess.

"you mind?" he asks him nodding his head at me like im not even there.

jj cant help but laugh at him "yea bud i do mind. she's hanging out with me tonight. have fun with your ipa dick." and with that he steers us off to where the rest of the pogues are.

but not before i can look over my shoulder and give the ginger an innocent smile and a shrug as if i had no control over the situation, when really id pick jj over anyone else.

"you owe me a big fat kiss mama," jj whispers in my ear walking us over to where our friends are standing, drinks in their hands laughing and chatting up a storm.

"in your dreams honey."

"every night all night," he quips back before i shove him off me.

now before you give me shit, jj and i have had our fair share of fun, but unfortunately im starting to look for something more serious.

watching john b and sarah be disgusting together is getting to my head. popes got something going on with cleo and im starting to recognize the pattern. and before i know it everyone will be in love if i don't start making an effort in that department.

random casual hook ups aren't doing it anymore, especially considering they aren't even that good.

unless theyre with jj.

but hes not an option, theres too much drama. too much history. too much too much too much. im not what he needs and i know for a fact he doesn't want me in that sense.

is that a bit dramatic? probably.

i mean hes a great lay, he's hilarious, he's got that blue collar kind of muscle, and he genuinely cares about me.

so of course im not going to date him, why would i?

what do you mean make good decisions? id rather do things in the most difficult way possible!

"y/n youve gotta stop giving those guys a chance, im starting to feel bad for you."

"you try finding a decent guy in a ten mile radius." i glare at him, obviously not wanting to joke about this right now.

he sticks his hand out in front of me, "fine i will. let me see your phone."

curious to see what he will do i hand it too him unlocked, he swipes and taps for a few moments, smiling down at the phone before handing it back to you.

when you look back down at the screen all you see is your instagram open with his stupid fucking smiley face on the screen.

he took a picture of himself and posted to my story. written on the screen in bubble letters in my favorite colored heart 'my favorite guy <3'

"i think he's your best bet." that same smile facing back at me now, cockier than ever. so smug i wanna kiss it off his face

i cant help but roll my eyes. "jj im serious! at this rate im going to die alone. every decent guy is taken or unavailable. all i want is someone funny, kind, and attractive is that too much to ask for?"

"im right in front of you mama you dont gotta look far."

"jj we both know we're not the serious kind of relationship im talking about."

"you can think what you want too but ill be here waiting for that kiss you owe me."

"i think all that tequila youve been sipping has gone to your head maybank."

he stands in front of me, taking his signature red cap off his head and putting it on mine smiling down at me, "what do they say in those books you read? you wear the hat you ride the cowboy?"

"this no ten gallon hat and you are no cowboy."

we laugh at each other, its always been easier to do that then actually talk about our feelings. so i put his hat back on his head, backwards the way he i likes it.

"cmon y/n/n, have a few more drinks, relax and hang out and ill make you feel all better later yea? its what im best at, you know."

"its gonna take more than a few more teas to convince me jj"

"what about that thing you like that i do with my tongue, huh mama? doesnt that sound pretty good right now? i think it does."

"i give you one fucking compliment and it goes straight to your head."

"technically its about my head so that makes perfect sense," he hands me another can with that stupid signature smirk of his and his stupid sexy hat backwards. i hate to admit it's working on me.

just like it does every other time.

i squint my eyes at him taking the can, rolling the idea around in my head. "fuck it. its not like anyone else is offering," i take a big sip of my drink.

jj pumps his fist in the air like a victorious idiot giving a few woots and hollars before picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder despite my wishes.

"jb!!" he shouts turning around to face him, "we're headed out!"

john b looks at the two of us shaking his head at how im kicking my feet to wiggle out of jjs oddly strong grip. "make sure you change the sheets when youre done!"

oh my god he did not just say that. "fuck both of you!"

jj just laughs carrying you back to the chateau like a kid who's excited to use a brand new birthday present.

"what happened to letting me have a few more drinks before we left??"

"youre just too irresistable mama, gotta have you now,' he gives my ass a light slap for good measure causing me to roll my eyes for the 600th time tonight.

"are you gonna put me down now?"

he pretends to look like hes thinking about it, "i guess. only so i can watch you walk away," he does as he says helping me get my feet on the ground.

"youre a pervert."

"no im flirtatious, and you love it, you know it makes you blush i see it. now go on and give me a lil walk yea?"

oh im gonna kill him...

oh wait! im gonna kill him!

"okay... fine. but no touching until we get home," i smile walking away exactly like he asked, but i know behind me he is a puddle of mud. standing still, about to start begging me to let him.

he finally catches up after a few seconds "mama please- cmon thats not fair. you look too good in those shorts you know i cant wait that long. just wanna feel you."

i cant help but giggle at his words, its honestly adorable how mopey he gets. like i just kicked his puppy or something.

"hands of jj i mean it... not until that door shuts behind us."

it didn't really matter that i can see the chateau or that ill be there in literally a minute.

its actually painful for jj to not be able to touch me as he pleases.

i turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. "you want me maybank?"

and of course he nods so hard it looks like his head is going to fall right off.

"come and get me," running towards the house, i can see the moment when his reflexes kick in, his boots thudding against the ground as he gains on me.

just before i can make it to the poarch jj wraps his arms around me, lifting me a few inches off the ground and spinning me around in a fit of laughter.

"okay! okay okay okay you win- you got me."

"oh ive got you mama, and im havin you for the rest of the fucking night," he presses a kiss to my neck hauling me inside, the screen door slamming shut after us.

am i gonna regret this tomorrow? most likely.

but what can i say? its slim pickins in this part of town.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

The sun to me

Epilogue. Loved.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 1.5k

summary: an ending brings a beautiful beginning.

~ Masterlist for the series

One year later...

"Zip me up, please."- you say while you stand in front of the mirror, smiling at Hyunjin's reflection behind you, his eyes roaming all over your figure.

"Of course, darling."- he comes closer, his hand on your lower back, caressing you for a moment before he helps you with the dress.

"You look beautiful."- his hands are on your waist in no time, slowly sliding down to your hips as he presses himself into you.

Before you can even answer, his lips are attached to your neck and shoulder, his hands exploring the familiar curves he's worshipped and captured on his canvas countless times.

"Jinnie, we're going to be late."- you exhale shakily as he lightly bites on your neck.

"Hosts can be late."- he mutters into you, making goosebumps rise on your skin as you shiver.

"No, they can't. Come on, we need to leave."- you chuckle as you dodge him and turn around.

Hyunjin pouts and squints his eyes, the cute face you adore is a funny contrast to his serious attire, his hair pulled back revealing his sharp jawline and his casual suit make him look like a model.

"Did you just dodge my kiss?"- he whines, eyes wide in disbelief.

"You'll kiss me later. We really need to get going, everyone will be there before us."

"Fine, fine. But you won't be able to dodge me tonight."- he smirks, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his body as you gasp, his lips landing on yours in a short kiss, leaving you wanting more instantly.

Somehow, you manage to actually leave the house but not without a few more kisses on the way out.

You make your way towards Isaac's house, now turned into a museum/art gallery that the two of you proudly own.

After finally renovating all the beautiful wood, the house was mostly kept to its original look, Isaac's furniture and works of art were the main centerpieces of the exhibition, along with paintings both Hyunjin and you made.

You had both worked hard to open up the gallery, the other residents helping out with whatever they could, and it made the exhibition even more precious and significant to everyone who knew and loved Isaac.

Hyunjin thought of it as the biggest art project he had ever worked on, so whenever he had to go to the city to tend to his first gallery, it was hard for him to leave behind his project and most importantly; you.

Even though you both know that he always comes back in a few days time, you can't help but miss each other whenever you're apart.

Tonight is finally opening night, and everyone was invited to attend the event, Catherine and Bennet helping with the food for the guests.

Being the center of attention is not something you're used to but having Hyunjin hold your hand the whole time as the two of you gave a speech followed by a toast to your future and the little island that was now the home to both of you reassured you that with him, everything is possible.

Delmar pulled Hyunjin aside at some point, talking to him quietly about something, a big smile on his face. Your eyes travel from them to Barbara talking another resident's ear off like always, probably yapping away about her cats, then to Catherine as she manages to catch Luna who has started running between the sculptures, her giggles echoing in the big room as Bennet watches them with a fond smile.

You chuckle to yourself, your fingertips brush along the big wooden table that was chosen as the centerpiece of the exhibition, one that Isaac's father made, his biggest project that he worked on tirelessly, the one where Hyunjin had spent so many days sitting at, sharing meals and conversations with Isaac, sometimes just enjoying the silence in the afternoon glow.

Hyunjin sees you deep in thought and makes his way to you.

"You okay?"- he whispers as he stands in front of you, his hand finding yours as he gently caresses your skin with his thumb.

"Yeah, just thinking."- you smile at him.

"About?"- he leans in closer to you, his eyes warm and full of love.

"You."- you smirk and he chuckles, his dimples showing and his cheeks becoming rosy.

"What about me?"- he pouts a little.

"How much I love you and admire you."- you wrap your arms around his shoulders and lean in and he lets out another endearing giggle as he pulls you into his body.

"Not as much as I love and admire you."- he wiggles his eyebrows and kisses you before you can protest.

"Alright, let's go back to our guests."- you place your hand on his chest because any time his lips touch yours, Hyunjin finds it hard to detach himself from you.

The evening comes to an end as everyone laughs and talks while eating together, reminscing about Isaac and when Hyunjin first arrived to the island.

There wasn't a moment during dinner that Hyunjin didn't feel truly and deeply loved by all the wonderful people surrounding him.

All he craved for was something simple like this; a family no matter what it looked like, it was made of people who genuinely care for each other and are there to help each other grow and heal.

As the last ones leaving, Hyunjin and you closed and locked the big heavy door before your hands found each other, fingers entwined as you started making your way down the hill.

"You wanna go to the beach?"- Hyunjin breaks the silence of the night with his gentle voice, the stars above you are clear and sparkly, the moon is almost full tonight, illuminating the path towards your future.

"Now?"- you giggle, pressing your arm against his as you walk.

"Yeah, unless you're tired."- he smiles.

"I'm fine, it's just a bit chilly."

Hyunjin takes off his jacket immediately and drapes it over your shoulders, his arm wrapping around you as he rubs yours.

"Better?"

"Better."

You arrive to the beach in no time, finding the spot where you stargazed many times before, whispering words of affection to each other, sharing quiet moments of bliss.

The jacket ends up serving as a seat since you didn't bring a towel and Hyunjin wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer to his body so he can keep you warm.

"I've been thinking about something."- he says, his lips against your temple.

"Mhm."- you melt into him, playing with his hand.

"What if I just sell my gallery in the city?"- he asks and you gasp and sit up to look at him.

"But that was always your dream, Jinnie. Why would you give it up?"

"Well, it's hard when I have to leave you here. I don't want to spend another moment away from you."- Hyunjin pouts and you chuckle, lifting your hand up to caress his hair.

"Lover, don't be too hasty with that decision. Think about it more, you know I'll support it whatever you do decide. I know how hard you worked to open that gallery and it would be a shame to just give it up. Besides, I'll come with you sometimes when I can catch Cath or Barbara to take care of my garden. And if I can't, you know that I'll be here waiting for you."- you smile as you caress his cheeks.

"Alright, I'll take some more time to think about it. Thank you, you're too good to me."- he smiles sweetly.

"Nothing you don't deserve, Jinnie."- you smile back as the two of you lean in, lips captured in a loving kiss.

"Hey, is that Orion's belt?"- Hyunjin asks when you part and stare at the night sky.

"It is. You remember."- you look at him, the stars reflecting in your eyes.

"Of course I remember. Do you still not believe in destiny, that we're meant to sit here together, that this encounter has some deeper meaning?"- he giggles, his hand playing with yours.

"I think we wrote the meaning ourselves."- you say and Hyunjin's arms tighten around you.

"I believe so too, my rose."- he says gently, lips finding yours easily. "I love you."- he whispers against you.

"I love you."- you whisper back as you keep kissing your lover, as the stars flicker above your heads, the sea gently caresses the sand and a quiet wind passes through the leaves on the trees, like they're repeating those three words you have said to each other countless times.

Hyunjin is everything to you, he has brought meaning to your mornings, happiness to your days and dreams to your nights. He's the most precious flowers your loving hands touched and his love illuminated your darkest days, making him the sun to you.

You are everything to Hyunjin, your gentle love and kind heart have made him feel warm and cared for, something he craved for deep inside his soul. You're the most beautiful art work he ever had the honor to paint. You hold his heart in your hands, caring tenderly for it, helping him grow, you're the sun to him.

And the petunias will blossom again, but this time both of you will be there to witness it, your fingers entwined, palms pressed together and hearts as one.

Life may not be perfect, but with Hyunjin you feel that it doesn't have to be.

✨taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @kaysungshine @nchhuhi @1810cl @chartrucewhore @babigriin @jisuperboard @alisonyus @minluvly @instantsoulnight @kkamismom12 @its-stayville-forever @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @lemonadeboun @eastjonowhere

[tomssexdoll]

Fire and Ice

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Tom and Y/N have been enemies for years, they go to the same university and he is such a pain in the ass. One day at a party they get into an argument, one slap leading to him giving Y/N a taste of how he really felt about her.

A/N: if you want to be tagged or i accidently missed your tag comment on my pinned masterlist <3

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary but turns into riding), mutual masturbation, LOTS OF TEASING AND KISSING, arguing (some violence but only a tiny bit)

Tom kaulitz was my "enemy", he was in the same university as me and much to my luck, every single class I was in. He was a pain in the ass, a real asshole. He always teased me, only choosing to be an asshole to me and nobody else.

I didn't really know why he chose me to be his personal punching bag, it's not like I ever did anything, he was always just like that, trying to target me in any way he could, finding flaws and running with them.

He acted like an immature teenager, throwing paper balls at me just to spite me, he was disrespectful, always invading my personal space. I was sick of it, I came close to just punching him in the face multiple times and he loved it, he loved the reactions he got out of me.

One day, I got invited to one of his friends parties at their mansion. It was gonna be quite a big party, filled with hundreds of people I didn't know. My friends were going and I decided to not let Tom dictate my night, wanting to have fun without him disturbing it like he always did. I got dressed, wearing a skimpy red dress that accentuated my curves, paired with some black louboutins. I chose a simple makeup look and straightened my hair, keeping it down.

We arrived quite late, walking inside the mansion and admiring the interior design, walking outside where everyone was. We were greeted by the host and given some drinks, the music blasting in our ears and the smell of alcohol wafting through the air. We looked around to see a majority of people in the pool, splashing around and having fun, the cool night air breezing against our skin.

He was in the garden, talking to some friends. He was already quite drunk, wearing a white t shirt with some random band on it, dark blue baggy jeans and a leather jacket. He had a cigarette in one hand and beer in another, taking occasional drags from his cigarette, blowing the smoke into the night sky.

I walked over to the cooler, I had already finished my drink and rummaged through it, finding bottles upon bottles of beer until I spotted a seltzer can, I grabbed it and cracked it open, taking a small sip.

Toms eyes caught me from across the yard. He muttered something to his friends before saunting over, his movements confident and purposeful. He stopped a few feet away, eyeing the rink in my hand with a smirk. I was with my friends, they just settled with the beer and we started to talk.

Tom interrupted my conversation, his voice loud over the music, "not drinking tonight?" he teased, tipping his beer bottle towards my seltzer. His tone was mocking, as if he didn't believe I'd have the self control, "or are you on a special diet?" he pouted sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes and looked him up and down, "fuck off Tom, go back to your deadbeat friends, I'm sure they'd love your company right now," I winked, making a blowjob motion in my mouth, with my tongue, my friends chuckling with me.

Toms face darkened, he stepped closer, towering over me. "You've got a smart mouth on you," he growled, leaning in, his voice low, "careful...it might get you into trouble.." he paused, his gaze flicking to my lips. I bursted out laughing, "aww I'm so scared, mr tough guy! Get the fuck out of here Tom," I turned back to my friends.

Toms hand shoots out, grabbing my arm and spinning me back around to face him. His grip is firm, almost painful, "you think this is fucking funny?" he sneered. "You think you're better than me?" he raised his voice, looking at my friends, a cold glare. "Hey! Don't talk to my fucking friends like that, have some respect!" I raised my voice back, shoving him off me.

He stumbled back a step, surprise flashing across his face before his expression hardened again. He took a step forward, crowding my personal space, I had to admit, he was kind of sexy when he was mad. "You push me..I push back.." he gave me a small shove, "you shove me, I shove harder," he said darkly.

I slapped him harshly across the face, the sound of the slap echoing, catching everyone's attention, "get the fuck away from me Tom!" I screamed. His head snapped to the side, for a moment he was stunned, his hand coming up to touch his reddening cheek. Then his eyes narrowed dangerously as he turned back to me, "you fucking bitch.." he grunted, his chest heaving with intense anger.

Without warning, Tom grabbed my waist and threw me over his shoulder, "you think you're fucking tough, huh? You think you can mouth off to me and get away with it? I don't fucking think so!" he yelled, marching inside the house as I kicked and screamed.

"GET OFF ME YOU BASTARD! FUCK YOU!" I kept screaming obscenities at him, clawing at his back and kicking his stomach, but he didn't budge, my blows to him were like tiny punches. He laughed at my attempts to escape and bursted into an empty bedroom, sitting me down on the dresser.

He stood in between my legs and looked down at me, his eyes burning with rage, "look at me.." he growled, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look up at him, "why do you have to be so difficult all the time, hm?" he said lowly. I scoffed and looked at him in disbelief, "you were the one that fucking started it Tom, don't start with that shit!" his jaw clenched, his hands fisting at his sides.

"I don't give a fuck whether I started it or not, you don't get to just slap me around whenever you feel like it," I furrowed my eyebrows, "and you don't get to taunt me whenever you feel like it, you're such a fucking hypocrite!" I raised my voice, I could physically feel the anger rising in me.

"Shut your mouth.." he hissed, grabbing my chin tighter, "oh fuck you Tom, shut your fu-" he silenced me with a brutal, passionate kiss, crashing his mouth against mine, his hands gripping my thighs painfully tight. He kissed me rough and hard, his teeth biting into my lower lip.

When he pulled back, we were both breathing heavy, chests heaving. "You fucking infuriate me.." he growled, "oh shut up you love it," I glared at him and smashed my lips into his once again, passionately kissing him, our tongues fighting for dominance.

He groaned against my mouth, his hands coming up and tangling in my hair. He kissed me back just as passionately, his anger morphing into desire. He grinded his hips against mine, showing me just how much he does 'love it'.

"You're such a fucking cunt..I hate you.." I grunted against his lips, he chuckled, "you hate me, I hate you," he muttered, his mouth moving to my neck. He sucked and bit at my skin, marking me, "but we both know you'd beg for me.." he smirked.

I rolled my eyes, "wipe that shit eating grin off your face, you're not smart," he chuckled and kept kissing my neck, trailing up to my jawline, "cmon baby.." he pouted, "stop fighting me, let me make you feel good.." he whispered in my ear, his breath hot.

I bit my lip and turned my head to the side, "mmmh...stubborn girl.." he moved his hands down my body, grabbing my thighs and pulling me closer to him. His grin widened, knowing it'd irritate me. He slid his hands under my dress and gently grazed his fingers over my panty covered pussy, letting his fingers drag along, teasing me.

"Tom.." I gasped, looking up at him, "that's it baby...relax.." he cooed, his voice filled with sarcasm. "Oh fuck you.." I reached my hand out and grabbed his bulge, squeezing it softly, "not so fun when it's being done to you, hm?" he inhaled sharply as I groped him, his hips jerking forward into my touch.

"Careful.." he warned, but his voice was strained with pleasure. He grabbed the straps of my dress and dragged them down my shoulders, letting them slip through my arms. He then reached behind me, gently gliding the zipper down, in one swift motion he took my dress off, revealing myself to him.

I was barely wearing a bra and panties, I had a black thong on and a skimpy lacy bra, my tits practically spilling out of my bra. "Fuck you're gorgeous.." he groaned, diving his head down and kissing my neck once again, leaving a new trail of hickeys.

"You walk around looking like that.." he spread my thighs wider, growling softly in my ear, "it's asking for trouble.." he trailed his kisses down to my collarbone, then my cleavage.

I gently pushed him back, grabbing his belt and sliding it off. My fingers focused on the buttons of his jeans, letting it fall down and pool at his ankles. His shirt followed soon after, I trailed my fingers down his abs, watching as he stood before me only in his boxers, his erection strained and his muscular physique on full display.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in, using one of my hands to bring his hand to my wet pussy, "don't be afraid.." I smirked, my words laced with playfulness. "Mmmh.." he hummed, slipping a finger beneath my thong and into me.

He pumped in and out slowly, his thumb rubbing circles over my sensitive bud. "And what am I afraid of exactly..." he whispered, "of this...?" he added another finger, causing me to moan softly.

"Mmmh..good girl.." he praised. I used my free hand to trail it down his stomach to his lower belly, then to his boxers. I slipped my hand inside and found his hard cock, pulling it out and slowly jerking him off in time with his thrusts.

His eyes rolled back as I jerked him off, his hips rocking against my hand. He curled his fingers deeper inside me, fucking me with his hand as he toyed with my clit. "Fuck...fuck!" he panted, his free hand fisting on the dresser.

I leaned in and kissed him passionately, speeding up my movements on his cock, my hand rapidly gliding up and down his shaft. He groaned loudly and sped up his movements, rapidly pumping his fingers in and out of my needy pussy, curling upwards to drive me crazy, hitting that spot inside me that I loved.

"Mmmh!" I whined against his lips, we continued our movements together, getting each other off. The kiss got more passionate as things got more heated, our orgasms approaching rapidly. I felt a fire in my stomach, a burning sensation I desperately needed to satisfy.

I could feel his cock twitching in my hand, desperate for release, my pussy also throbbed against his fingers, my clit sensitive and aching. "You're so fucking sexy..oh fuck..gonna cum.." he grunted, his chest heaving, his hand on the dresser unfisting and coming to my thigh, holding onto me tightly.

I moaned and rolled my eyes back, my orgasm coming crashing down in time with his, he let out a low, guttural moan against my mouth, his hips jerking forward as he spilled into my hand. He rested his forehead against mine, breathing heavily, "bed..."he mumbled, lifting me and carrying me to the bed, throwing me onto it, "now.." he crawled up towards me, hovering over me.

I grabbed his face and kissed him passionately, I needed his lips on mine, forever. He kissed me back fiercely, years of pent up frustration pouring out. His tongue dominated mine, teeth clashing as he pinned me to the bed. He settled between my thighs, breaking off the kiss, his chest heaving as his fully erect cock pressed against my core.

He moved his hands down and yanked my thong off, then moving to my bra. He practically ripped my bra off, grabbing my tits and squishing them together, shoving his face in them, licking and sucking relentlessly, "so good..fuck..these perfect fucking tits..oh god.." he groaned, licking and sucking my nipples rapidly.

"Please fuck me.." I whined, my hands roaming around in his hair. He kept feasting on my chest, his mouth and hands everywhere at once. He licks and bites at my supple mounds, his calloused fingers pinching and rolling my hardened peaks. He pulled back, his eyes hungrily taking in my heaving chest, "look at you..so desperate for my cock...hm? Aren't you?" he growled.

When I didn't answer he reached up, his hand fisting in my hair and pulling on it, bringing me close to his face. "Aren't you?" he repeated, his voice raised, I nodded eagerly and whined, "please...give me your cock Tom, stop fucking teasing!"

He chuckled and spread my legs, hooking his arms in my thighs and pulling me closer, his tip prodding at my entrance, waiting impatiently. With a grunt, the thrusted forward, burying himself inside me in one smooth motion.

"Holy fuck!" I gasped, he didn't give me time to adjust, immediately starting to piston in and out of me at a brutal pace. He grips my thighs hard, his fingers digging into my flesh as he fucked me mercilessly, "TOM!" I yelped, holding onto him tightly, my tits bouncing wildly as his thrusts kept increasing.

He grinned wickedly, loving the way I reacted to him. He leaned down and kissed me hard, swallowing my cries as he continued to pound into me. "You take me so well.." he groaned, his hands squeezing my backside. I whined and kept kissing him, I could almost feel him in my throat.

He suddenly flipped us around so I was on top, he sat up against the pillows of the bed and grabbed my ass tightly, lifting me up and slamming me onto his cock repeatedly, I rolled my eyes back, the intense pleasure causing my body to shake.

"I can't take it! Too much!" I cried out, his eyes darkened and he thrusted harder, "you're going to take, every. single. inch." he said, his words in time with his thrusts. "Understand?" he whispered sadistically, I nodded and whimpered, my legs trembling uncontrollably.

He smirked arrogantly, knowing he was overwhelming me, but he loved it, he loved how I fell apart against him. He continued to lift and drip me onto his lap, his powerful arms handling me with ease. "Touch yourself...touch that sensitive clit baby, show me how much you love this cock stuffed inside you.." he grumbled, guiding my hand down.

"I've waited so long for this moment, everytime I see you I can't stop thinking about how fucking hard I'd make you take my cock..the sounds you'd make.." he whispered against my skin.

I rubbed shaky circles on my clit, my mouth slightly agape as I felt my orgasm rapidly approaching, I was being sent into a state of pure ecstasy, my vision going blurry. "Cmon, cum for me baby!" he yelled, placing his hand over mine and speeding my hand up, "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" I moaned loudly, my pussy clenching around his cock tightly as my orgasm came crashing down.

He groaned loudly "this pussy is so fucking good, fuck!" he slammed me down one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he exploded inside me, cum leaking down my walls. He held me tight, his face buried in my neck as he rode out his high.

"Oh my god...fuck..." he panted, "that was amazing.." I whispered, my chest heaving as I tried to calm down. After a while of settling down, I got up, my shaky legs walking over to find my clothes, as I went searching I caught a glimpse of myself, something on my neck.

I turned to look, my eyes widening as I saw my neck and chest were FULL of hickeys. "Hickeys? Seriously Tom, what are you, 12?" I groaned, running my fingers over them, he chuckled and came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and inspecting them, "fuck..I did a number on you didn't I," he pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder, "oops.." he mumbled.

"Lets get out of here, yeah?" he turned me to face him, his eyes softer now. I nodded softly and gathered all my clothes, sitting on the bed to get dressed. He put his clothes back on, adjusting himself and taking my hand, guiding me out of the party.

tags: @ballhair @bills-wife-1 @bkaulitzlover

tags: @ella1289 @billsdolliest @tomscumdoll

tags: @tomsfuckdoll @tomkslut @miyukafujii

tags: @itsangelll

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 9

Pairing: Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Attempted SA, Angst, language

A/N: So i have like 4 other parts done but i wanted to do more of an insight on Bucky and her relationship, so this is strictly just a chapter filled with Flashbacks!

P.S i do plan on updating my links to my masterlist & masterposts but links arent fricking working for me rn

1 Year ago

It was a Saturday night, and you, Bucky, Sam, and a few others had headed out to one of your favorite bars. The place was packed, neon lights casting a warm, vibrant glow over the tables and booths, music pulsing just loud enough to fill the space without drowning out conversation. After a few drinks, the energy in the room had settled into that perfect, cozy buzz.

You and Bucky were at the bar, leaning against the counter, laughing as you recounted a ridiculous story from your college days. He was right next to you, his arm resting on the bar behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His gaze hadn’t left you, his blue eyes alight with that look he sometimes had—a mix of mischief and something softer, something that made your heart race.

“You’re the worst,” you say, shaking your head with a grin. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

He laughs, his hand brushing against your arm as he shifts closer, his voice low. “Oh, come on. You’re not that surprised. You know I’d do anything for a laugh, especially yours"

You roll your eyes warmth creeping up your neck to your cheeks, trying to ignore the thrill that sparks at the brush of his fingers. “You just like the attention, Barnes.”

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “And you don’t?”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Please, I’m a saint compared to you.”

“Oh, really?” His grin widens, and he leans in, his face so close you can feel his breath against your cheek. “Guess we’ll have to see who’s the real troublemaker tonight, won’t we?”

For a moment, your breath catches, your heart pounding as you meet his gaze, feeling the air between you grow thick with anticipation. His hand lingers on the bar behind you, fingers inching just a little closer to your arm. You’re not sure if it’s the drinks, the atmosphere, or just the way he’s looking at you, but there’s a flicker of hope in your chest—a spark that maybe, just maybe, tonight could be different. Maybe this time, he might see you the way you see him.

Just as you’re about to say something, to lean into the moment a little more, Sam walks up, nudging Bucky with an all-too-knowing grin before tossing his arm over your shoulder.

“Hey, Buck,” Sam says, nodding toward the other end of the bar. “Girl over there by the corner table? She asked for your number.” Sam winks, then jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “I just kept her friend busy for you, told her our little Stevie was single.”

You glance over to the area Sam pointed to, and sure enough, Steve gives you a polite smile while he’s in the middle of what seems to be a very animated conversation with a brunette.

Bucky pulls back slightly, and you feel the shift immediately, that warm intensity slipping away. He turns to glance over his shoulder, a grin tugging at his lips. “Did she now?” he asks, smirking at Sam.

Sam shrugs. “You know how it is. She’s cute too. Don’t keep her waiting.”

Bucky chuckles, then turns back to you, his gaze meeting yours, and there’s a glint in his eye—a playful lightness that makes your heart drop. “Well,” he says, his voice low, his eyes lingering on yours for just a beat too long, something swimming in those blue depths that you can’t quite decipher. “Duty calls.”

Your stomach twists, and you force yourself to smile, giving a small shrug as you try to brush it off. “Yeah, go work your charm,” you say, injecting as much playfulness into your voice as you can manage. “Wouldn’t want to keep the girl waiting.”

He stares at you for a second, almost like he wants to say something else, like he’s about to—but then he gives you a small, regretful smile, and the moment slips away. “Catch you in a bit,” he says, squeezing your shoulder before he turns and heads toward the girl waiting across the bar.

You watch him go, the hope you’d felt moments ago dissolving into something familiar—a quiet, persistent ache that you know all too well. As he laughs with the girl, you turn back to your drink, forcing a smile as you remind yourself that this is just the way it is. He’s Bucky, your best friend, and that’s all you’ll ever be.

Sam steps in front of you, raising an eyebrow. “If you want, I can be your wingman too. Can’t be that hard to find someone for you.”

You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head. “I’m good, Sammy. Thanks, though. I think I’m just gonna go over and gossip with the girls,” you say, nodding toward Natasha and Wanda, who seem deep in a debate about something.

He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

You grab your beer and, with one last glance over your shoulder, your eyes meet Bucky’s. He’s looking at you again, even as the girl next to him leans in closer, talking animatedly. For a second, it’s just the two of you, caught in the kind of look that makes your heart ache with everything unsaid.

But then he blinks, turning back to the girl with a charming smile, and the spell is broken. You swallow hard, blinking back the sting of tears as you head toward Natasha and Wanda, already preparing to laugh and distract yourself from the quiet ache in your chest.

6 months ago

You and Bucky had the apartment to yourselves, waiting for the others to arrive for a long-promised game night. The coffee table was scattered with board games and cards, and you were already a couple of drinks in, feeling that familiar warmth that made everything just a little funnier, a little sweeter, a little more electric.

“Alright, your move,” you say with a grin, watching him frown as he studies the board like it’s the most serious puzzle in the world.

Bucky groans, running a hand through his hair. “You think you’re gonna beat me at this, but you’re dead wrong.”

“Oh, yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, leaning forward. “Pretty sure I’m about to wipe the floor with you, Barnes.”

His eyes light up, and he leans forward to match your energy, his face only inches from yours. “Big talk for someone who’s two turns away from total disaster,” he teases, his voice low and playful. There’s a sparkle in his eye, something mischievous and warm, and for a split second, you wonder if you’re imagining it.

You laugh, taking another sip of your drink as you try to focus on the game instead of the way his gaze lingers on you. “I don’t know, you look pretty nervous to me,” you say, flicking a card onto the table. “Face it, Buck. I’m the game night champion.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I’d like to see you prove it.”

The banter flows easily, a familiar back-and-forth that makes your heart race in a way you can’t fully control. You’ve been friends for so long, but there are nights like this, nights where you’re alone, laughing, sharing drinks, and leaning just a bit closer than usual. Nights where you feel that little flicker of something more, and you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he feels it too.

As the game goes on, Bucky’s hand finds its way to the back of the couch, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin. You’re hyper-aware of every small shift, every slight brush of his hand against your shoulder when he leans in to check the board, and your heart races each time, a small thrill sparking at the possibility that this could be… more.

Suddenly, he looks over at you, his face serious, his voice softer. “You know… we make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

Your breath catches, and for a second, you think you see something in his gaze—something that feels as real as the pounding in your chest, as tangible as the way his arm brushes against yours. You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips, feeling bold and just tipsy enough to flirt back.

“Maybe,” you murmur, meeting his gaze. “But I think I’m the one carrying this team.”

Bucky laughs, a soft, warm sound, and he leans a little closer, his eyes locked on yours. “Is that so?”

Bucky’s voice is low, teasing, but there’s something different in the way he’s looking at you now. The playful edge in his grin softens, his gaze dipping briefly to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. The space between you feels smaller, more intimate, and the usual banter takes on a weight that makes your pulse quicken.

You tilt your head slightly, your smile turning sly. “Yeah, pretty sure I’ve been carrying this whole operation.”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling low in his chest, and then, almost without thinking, his hand shifts. His fingers brush against your knee, just a light, casual touch, but it sends a spark through you. You glance down briefly, then back up at him, your heart pounding.

“Well, maybe I just like letting you think you’re in charge,” Bucky says, his voice softer now, almost a murmur.

You can’t help but smile at that, leaning in just a fraction, testing the waters. “Oh, is that it? You’re just letting me win?”

“Maybe,” he replies, his hand sliding just a bit further along your knee, his thumb brushing gently against the fabric of your jeans. It’s subtle, but the warmth of his touch is undeniable.

Your breath catches, and you lean closer, your faces now only inches apart. His eyes flicker between yours, searching, and for a moment, it feels like the entire world has narrowed down to just the two of you. His hand moves from your knee, trailing up to lightly rest on your arm, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Bucky…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper, but he cuts you off with a soft smile, his tone earnest.

“There’s no one else I’d rather be doing this with,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours. “You know that, right?”

Your heart swells, the words hitting you in a way that feels both comforting and exhilarating. “Yeah,” you murmur, your voice shaky but steady. “I know.”

His hand drifts up, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as his fingers graze your cheek. His gaze dips to your lips again, and you swear he’s leaning in. The air between you is electric, charged with everything you’ve never said but have always felt.

Just as his nose brushes against yours, the front door bursts open with a loud bang.

“We’re here!” Sam’s voice echoes through the apartment, followed by the sound of boots thudding on the floor.

You and Bucky pull apart instantly, the moment shattering as Steve, Natasha, and Wanda pile in behind Sam, all carrying snacks and drinks, their laughter filling the room.

Bucky lets out a quiet, frustrated sigh, his hand falling away as he leans back, plastering on a grin. “About time,” he calls out, his voice slightly strained. “Thought you guys got lost.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you as she sets a bag of chips on the counter. “Interrupt something?” she asks, her tone playful but curious.

You quickly shake your head, forcing a laugh as you grab your drink. “Just Bucky losing at game night already.”

“Losing?” Bucky scoffs, giving you a pointed look that’s equal parts teasing and frustrated. “We both know who’s winning here.”

Natasha smirks but doesn’t push further, and soon everyone is settling in, chattering and laughing as the game night kicks off. But as you glance at Bucky across the room, catching the way his gaze lingers on you for just a moment too long, you can’t help but wonder what might have happened if you’d had just a few more minutes alone.

For the rest of the night, you can’t shake the lingering feeling, the memory of his voice, of that look in his eyes. It was just a moment—one small moment—but it was enough to spark the hope that maybe, just maybe, he feels it too.

2 Years ago

The apartment was still in chaos, boxes piled high and scattered across the floor, but it didn’t matter. You and Bucky sat in the middle of it all, the weight of the day settling into a calm, contented silence. The others had just left—Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Wanda had helped you haul everything up, cracking jokes and making the place feel alive. But now it was just you two, sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by your new life together.

Bucky let out a long breath, leaning back on his hands as he looked around. “We did it,” he said, a soft grin spreading across his face. “We finally did it, doll.”

You smiled, watching the way his eyes lit up despite the exhaustion written across his features. “Yeah, we did,” you said, your voice filled with quiet pride. “Out of that shithole town, finally graduated university… and now we’ve got our own place.”

“Our own place,” Bucky repeated, like he was tasting the words. He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Feels like we’ve been talking about this forever. And now we’re here.”

You nodded, leaning back against one of the boxes. “Feels kinda surreal.”

Bucky shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat. His eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “There’s no one else I’d rather do life with than you, you know that, right?”

His words sent a warm flutter through your chest, and you could barely breathe as his hand reached up, grazing your cheek lightly. His touch was soft, almost reverent, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged with something unspoken, something deeper.

You swallowed, leaning into his touch, your voice barely above a whisper. “Best friends for life,” you said, trying to keep your tone light even as your heart raced.

Bucky smiled, his thumb brushing against your skin for a second longer before he pulled his hand back. “Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on yours. “Or… something like that.”

For a moment, it felt like time slowed, the weight of his words hanging between you. You wondered if he felt it too, this quiet pull that seemed to draw you closer every time you were alone together.

But before you could say anything more, the buzzer rang loudly, breaking the spell. Bucky blinked, then let out a laugh, standing up quickly. “Must be the pizza,” he said, shooting you a grin as he walked over to the intercom.

You stayed where you were, heart still beating fast as you watched him, the warmth of his earlier words still lingering in the room. But of course, that's all it would ever do…linger.

High School Junior Year

The school hallways buzzed with the usual Friday afternoon energy. Lockers slammed, laughter echoed, and plans for the weekend floated through the air. You were at your locker, pretending to search for a book, but really you were just trying to hold it together. The tears that threatened to fall were barely contained, your heart still raw from the breakup that had blindsided you during lunch.

You’d thought he was different. Ryan, the quiet, sweet boy from your English class, had seemed so perfect. But today, he’d told you it wasn’t working, that he wanted to see other people, well that he already had been seeing other people, well that you caught him with said other person…..Trina.

You took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. The lump in your throat only grew as you heard his laugh down the hall, carefree as if nothing had happened.

“Hey, you okay?” Natasha’s voice pulled you from your spiralling thoughts. She leaned casually against the locker next to yours, her sharp green eyes studying you.

You quickly wiped at your eyes, forcing a smile. “Yeah, fine. Just tired.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Tired or heartbroken?”

You let out a shaky laugh, but before you could answer, Steve appeared, his face immediately softening when he saw you.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, glancing between you and Natasha.

“Ryan,” Natasha said bluntly, crossing her arms.

Steve’s face darkened, his usual calm demeanor shifting into protective mode. “That idiot. You want me to talk to him?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, Steve, please don’t. It’s not worth it.”

Before he could argue, Natasha’s gaze flicked down the hall. “Uh-oh. Here comes Bucky.”

Your stomach twisted as you turned to see Bucky walking toward you, hand in hand with Stacy, his girlfriend. Stacy was all smiles, tossing her long hair over her shoulder as she talked animatedly. Bucky’s expression softened the second he saw you, his sharp blue eyes narrowing with concern.

“You look like you’ve been crying,” Bucky said the moment he reached you, his voice low and familiar in a way that made your defenses crumble.

“I’m fine,” you lied, trying to brush past him. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Hey, wait—” Bucky grabbed your arm gently, his eyes searching yours. “What happened?”

“Bucky,” Stacy said, clearly annoyed, tugging on his hand. “We’re gonna miss the movie.”

Bucky ignored her, his full attention on you. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “It’s nothing. Just… Ryan cheated on me, okay? It doesn’t matter.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his gaze flicking over to where Ryan was laughing with his friends. His protective instincts kicked in immediately, but before he could say anything, you pulled your arm free.

“I just need to be alone,” you said, your voice cracking as you turned and rushed down the hall, ignoring the concerned calls from Steve and Natasha.

You made it outside, the cool autumn air biting against your skin as you walked aimlessly down the street, the tears falling freely now. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the footsteps behind you until a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, stop.”

You turned to see Bucky jogging toward you, his face filled with worry. Stacy was nowhere in sight.

“Bucky, what are you doing? You’re supposed to be with Stacy, its movie night"

“Forget Stacy, forget the stupid movie” he said, his voice firm as he closed the distance between you. Without another word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you broke down completely.

You clung to him, the weight of your heartbreak finally crashing over you. “Why does it hurt so much?” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

Bucky stroked your hair gently, his voice soft. “Because you cared. But you’re gonna be okay, doll. I promise.”

For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared. Bucky’s presence was steady and grounding, and for the first time that day, you felt like you could breathe again.

“Bucky!” Stacy’s voice cut through the moment like a knife. You looked up to see her standing a few feet away, her arms crossed, her face a mixture of anger and hurt. “What the hell is this?”

Bucky sighed, but he didn’t let go of you. “Stacy, not now.”

“Not now?” she repeated, her voice rising. “I’m your girlfriend, Bucky! And I’m so sick of being second to her.” She jabbed a finger in your direction, her voice trembling with frustration. “It’s always about her. You’re always running after her, putting her first.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, and he finally released you, stepping forward. His voice was calm but firm. “Stacy, you knew how important she was to me when we started this. She’s my best friend.”

“She’s not just your best friend! Not the way i see it!” Stacy snapped, her eyes filling with tears. “If you’re not willing to put me first, then maybe we shouldn’t be together.”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, his face unreadable. Then he spoke, his voice steady and certain. “If it’s between you and her, Stacy, I’ll always choose her.”

Stacy’s face crumpled, and she let out a bitter laugh. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head before turning and walking away, her footsteps echoing down the street.

Bucky stood there for a moment, watching her go, then turned back to you. His expression softened as he reached out, gently wiping a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “You didn’t need to see that.”

You shook your head, your heart aching in a different way now. “Bucky, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly. “You’ve always been the most important person in my life. I’m not gonna let anyone change that.”

You stared at him, your heart full of emotions you couldn’t quite put into words. Finally, you managed a small, shaky smile. “Best friends for life, right?”

Bucky’s lips curved into a soft smile, and he nodded. “Yeah, doll. Best friends for life.”

And for that moment, it was enough.

University Year 2

The air was thick with the mingling scents of bonfire smoke, cheap beer, and the faint tang of weed. Laughter and music drifted through the clearing, blending into a chaotic symphony that pulsed through the crowd. The college bush party was in full swing, and you'd thought being here with your friends-and Nick-would be a good way to unwind.

But now, you were far from the warm glow of the fire, your back pressed against the rough bark of a tree as Nick leaned in, his hands sliding lower and lower. At first, you didn't think much of it. A kiss here, a touch there. But then his hands started to roam places you weren't ready for.

"Nick, no... I'm not ready," you murmured, pulling back slightly.

"Come on," he whispered, his lips brushing against your neck, ignoring your words. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer. "We've been together for a month. You trust me, right?"

You stiffened, your heart starting to race-not with excitement, but with unease. "Nick, I'm serious. Stop," you said, your voice firmer now.

But he didn't stop. His hands moved to your chest, squeezing, and you froze for a moment, shock and panic locking you in place.

"I said no!" you shouted, your voice shaking as you shoved at his chest.

He barely budged, his grip tightening.

"Relax," he muttered, his tone annoyed now. "Stop being so uptight."

Fear and anger surged through you, and you pushed harder, your voice cracking. "Get off me!"

Before he could respond, Nick was suddenly yanked backward, ripped away from you with such force that he stumbled and fell to the ground. "What the hell?" Nick gasped, but his words were cut off as

Bucky loomed over him, his jaw tight, eyes blazing with fury. "She said no," Bucky growled, his voice low and deadly as he grabbed Nick by the collar. "You don't fucking touch her when she says no."

Without waiting for a response, Bucky's fist connected with Nick's face, the crack of bone meeting bone cutting through the night. Nick's head snapped back, and he let out a strangled curse, but Bucky didn't stop. He landed another punch, his face twisted with rage.

"Bucky, stop!" you cried, your voice trembling as you stumbled forward, tears streaming down your face. "Please, stop!"

Nick raised his arms in a feeble attempt to shield himself. "What the fuck, man? Get off me!" he shouted, his voice muffled by Bucky's relentless assault.

The commotion quickly drew attention. Steve appeared out of nowhere, his face a mix of confusion and alarm as he grabbed Bucky's shoulders, yanking him off of Nick. "Buck, what the hell are you doing?" Steve demanded, holding him back.

Bucky's chest heaved, his fists still clenched, his knuckles already bruised. "He wouldn't stop, Steve," Bucky spat, his voice raw with fury. "She told him to stop, and he wouldn't fucking stop."

Steve froze, his eyes darting to you. The second he saw your tear-streaked face, his expression shifted, the anger fading into something colder, sharper. "Is that true?" he asked softly, his voice low.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself as a fresh wave of tears spilled over. Steve's jaw tightened, his fists clenching as he turned back to Nick, who was still lying on the ground, blood trickling from his nose. "You piece of shit," Steve muttered, starting to step forward.

Bucky caught Steve's arm, holding him back this time. "Don't," Bucky said, his voice steadier now but no less dangerous. "He's not worth it."

Nick groaned, sitting up and wiping at his nose. "You're both fucking crazy," he muttered, staggering to his feet. "All this for some prude?"

Bucky's grip on Steve tightened, but he stayed rooted in place as Nick continued. "She's not worth it," Nick sneered, his voice laced with bitterness. "A month of dating, and she won't even put out? She's not even that hot. Stupid bitch."

You flinched at his words, but before you could react, Bucky's jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. He turned on his heel, closing the distance between you in two quick strides. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. "It's okay," Bucky murmured, his voice soft now, his hand cradling the back of your head. "You're safe. I've got you."

You broke down completely, your hands clutching at his shirt as sobs wracked your body. His hold was steady, grounding, and you felt the tension in your chest start to ease, even as the pain of Nick's words lingered.

Steve, meanwhile, kept his eyes locked on Nick, his expression cold. "You need to leave. Now," Steve said, his voice like steel.

Nick scoffed, spitting blood onto the ground. "Whatever," he muttered, turning and staggering away into the darkness.

Steve let out a breath, his fists slowly unclenching as he turned back to you and Bucky. "You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded weakly, your voice barely audible. "I will be."

Bucky tightened his hold on you, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. "You'll never have to go through that again," he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. "I promise."

Bucky continued to hold you, his hand gently stroking your hair as your breathing began to even out. His heart was still racing beneath your cheek, but his touch was steady, grounding you as the fear and panic slowly ebbed away. For a long moment, the two of you stood there, wrapped in a cocoon of quiet comfort, the distant sounds of the party fading into the background.

Finally, you pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. His face was softer now, the sharp edges of his anger replaced with a quiet concern that made your chest ache. “Thank you, Bucky,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but full of sincerity. “For everything.”

Bucky’s eyes searched yours, his expression unreadable for a moment before he gave you a small, gentle smile. He reached up, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly, his voice low and steady. “I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

Your heart swelled at his words, the weight of them settling over you in a way that felt both comforting and overwhelming. You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah… I know.”

Bucky held your gaze for a moment longer, his hand lingering on your cheek before he finally let it fall. He glanced over at Steve, who stood a few feet away, still watching you both with quiet concern.

“You good?” Steve asked, his tone softer now.

You nodded again, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah… I think so.”

Steve gave a small nod, his jaw still tight, but he didn’t push further. “Let’s get you home,” he said. “This party’s over.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close as the three of you made your way back toward the clearing. The warmth of his touch, the quiet strength in his presence, reminded you once again that with him by your side, you were never truly alone.

And as you walked away from the chaos of the night, you couldn’t help but feel a little more whole, knowing that no matter what, Bucky would always have your back

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

What We Used to Be - Jey Uso x Black!OC

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Main Masterlist

This will remain a ONESHOT, no part twos ❤️

April 11th 2017

JaiFelix_WWE

liked by trinity_fatu, sashabankswwe, and 300,000 others

JaiFelix_WWE: If you're not watching Smackdown tonight, what are you doing??!

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user: dreaming about us being together

trinity_fatu : JAI- JAI 💖

carmellawwe: looking good girl!

jonathanfatu: can u delete this plz! got my wife licking her phone!

↪JaiFelix_WWE: @jonathanfatu LMAO!

Jaiania held her breath as she walked past Josh and his twin brother Jon. She kept her head down, hoping they didn’t notice her walking by them. She absolutely did not want to have a conversation with either of them - especially Josh -. After their failed relationship and trainwreck of a breakup, she would rather play in traffic than have a conversation with him. 

She almost made it past them without being noticed. “Damn girl you just gon walk right past us.” That was Jon. Jaiania forced a smile on her face and turned around to face them. 

“Oh, hey.” She said, keeping her eyes on Jon. “Didn’t see you there.” She shrugged when he gave her a ‘yeah right’ look. Josh crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes when he realized that she was trying her hardest to not look in his direction. 

This is awkward she thought as she rocked back on her heels before pointing in the direction she was walking. 

“I gotta go. Nice seeing you though,” She said to Jon, still ignoring Joshua’s presence. 

She hurried down the hallway feeling their eyes on her. 

Jon turned to his brother once she rounded the corner. “Look at what you did,” He said, smacking Josh on his chest. Josh rolled his eyes. 

“I ain't do shit. Come on, we gotta get ready.”  Josh did not want to hear that bullshit. He was in the wrong just as much as she was but since everyone loved Jaiania he took all the blame. 

Jaiaina groaned as she saw Jon and Josh walking her way a couple of hours later. This must be my lucky day, two times in one night, she thought bitterly. She could normally avoid Jon and Josh but they seemed to be everywhere she was today.

“Congratulations guys.” She said referring to the Smackdown tag team titles they had just won from Chad Gable and Jason Jordan. 

“Thank you, Jai,” Jon said, trying to give her a sweaty hug. She pretended to throw up and moved away from him. “Is your arm okay tho? That rinpost spot looked pretty rough.” 

“I’m totally fine.” Jaiaina lied. “Looked way worse than it actually was.” She said, smiling at him. 

“Yeet!” He said, making Jaiaina roll her eyes. “We goin’ out to celebrate our big win tonight, you in?”  

Jaiaina let her eyes cut over to Josh who thankfully wasn’t looking at her. “Uh. I can’t. I have plans already.” That got Josh’s attention. He looked up from his phone and squinted his eyes at her. He wasn't normally one for gossip but he had heard some things about Jaiaina and another one of their co-workers recently. 

“So the rumors are true huh?” He said with a scoff. “You move on fast.” Jaiaina cut her eyes back over to him and glared. 

“Excuse me?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Josh sucked his teeth and narrowed his eyes at her. “You heard me.” 

Jon let his eyes ping pong between the two of them. He knew he needed to stop them before they became explosive. “Uce, come on. It ain’t worth it. ” Jon said trying to pull his brother along but Josh wasn’t budging. “Josh, stop. Let’s go Uce” 

“Yeah, I think that's a good idea,” Jaiaina said as she rolled her eyes and turned to walk away from them.  6 months of silence and the first thing he said to her is something about some bullshit ass rumors?! Pathetic 

“And then he had the nerve to talk about me moving on too fast,” Jaiaina said to Trinity and Carmella as they sat in the VIP section of a club. “I mean, he broke up with me. What does he care if I moved on or not.” She said as she downed another shot. Carmelle and Trinity shared a look but didn’t say anything.  “And what fucking rumors?!” She turned to her best friends. “Yall heard rumors about me?” She let out a scoff and rolled her eyes when they both nodded. 

“Yeah, but we obviously don't believe it,”  Carmella said. 

“What's the rumor though?” 

Carmella shrugged and sipped her drink. “Something about you and AJ” 

Jaiaina's eyes widened. “AJ STYLES?!” She asked louder than necessary. “Ew, what the fuck. Where did that fucking come from?”

 Carmella sighed. “Okay, here's what I know. Apparently, someone saw you and him  leaving a hotel room together a couple of weeks ago.”

 Jaiaina scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Do these people know that he’s married and I would never do that to Wendy or his children?” She sighed. “And Josh knows that Allen was my mentor during my time in TNA.” 

“Girl you know how Josh is. He’s being an ass because he misses you.” Trinity said and Jaiaina rolled her eyes.  

“Yeah well, he shouldn’t believe rumors about me.” 

“And you miss him too, right?” Trinity questioned. 

Jaiania rolled her eyes. “Of course I miss him, I never said I didn’t.”

“ Do you still love him?” 

Jaiaian took another sip of her drink before answering. “Yes I still love him, but it is extremely obvious that he never did. We break up and the first thing he does is go fuck on one of our coworkers? That’s foul. Now every time I walk past that hoe she got a fucking smirk on her face that I wanna smack off. ” 

Trinity and Carmella found themselves nodding along with Jaiaina’s statement. It was an extremely foul thing for Josh to do. 

“I still don’t know what possessed him to do that. “ 

“I do.” Jaiaina rolled her eyes. “He been wanting to fuck Dasha. Surprised he didn’t do it  while we were dating.” 

Trinity rolled her eyes at her friend. “Josh may have been an asshole but we all know he wouldn’t cheat on you.” 

Jaiaina hummed as she took a sip of her drink. She then eyed her friend. “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with your husband?” 

“Oh, about that.” 

Jai narrowed her eyes at Trinity before letting out a gasp. “You didn’t !” 

“I’m sorry! I know we already planned this girl's night and I didn’t wanna flake on y'all.” 

Jai scoffed and turned towards Carmella who was already looking at her with guilty eyes. 

“I invited  Corey too.” 

Jaiaina had to stop herself from throwing a temper tantrum. “You guys” she whined. “Girls night mean just girls.” She pouted. 

Trinity and Carmella burst into laughter. “We’re sorry! But look, we can have a girl's night once we go back to Florida. Just us.” 

“Fine,” Jaiaina said, still pouting. Just as she was about to take another sip of her drink, Jon, Josh and… Dasha fucking Jackson. Jaiaina scoffed and adverted her eyes from the couple. 

“I’m sorry,” Trin whispered as stood and greeted her husband and Corey purposely ignoring Josh and Dasha. Carmella did the same and Jaiania couldn’t have been more grateful for her friends. 

Don’t let it get to you, Don’t let it get to you. She repeated in her head as Dasha made a point of showing she was Josh’s girl now by placing a kiss on his lips. Once Dasha looked in her direction, Jaiaina stood from her seat and walked over to the bar. The drama was something she did not need nor want tonight. 

She let out a heavy sigh as she leaned against the bar. She had successfully gone months without being in the same space as Josh because it hurt. It hurt to look at him and not be with him. She said some foul things the day they broke up and so did he, but she never expected him to literally go and fuck another woman THE SAME NIGHT. 

“C’mon, you too pretty to be frowning.” Jaiaina had to stop herself from swinging on the slimeball that just slithered his way next to her. She turned her head to the side to face him and he smiled thinking he got her attention. She cringed at the food he had stuck in his teeth. 

“Thank you,” She said referring to the compliment. “But, uh no thanks.” She said referring to his advances. The bartender set down her rum punch, Jaiaina grabbed the drink and tried to walk away but the guy grabbed her arm. 

“Don’t be fucking rude.” He scoffed. “You didn’t even ask me my name.” 

“That’s cause I don’t wanna know your name!” She said, trying to pull her arm out of his grasp. Just from how tight his grip was, she knew she was going to have a bruise. “Let go of me!” 

“Don’t be such a bitch!” He spat at her, Just as Jai was lifting her knee to hit him in his balls, he was forcefully grabbed, which caused him to release her arm. 

“The fuck is you doin’?!”  

Jaiaina let out a gasp as Josh pushed the slimeball down to the ground. By now, more than half of the bar had turned their attention to them. “Don’t put ya’ fucking hands on her like that. Fuck is wrong witchu?!” 

Slimy McSlimerson tried to kick his feet at Josh but Josh sidestepped them and then kicked slimeball in his face, knocking him onto his back. Slimy let out a groan as he started to hold his now broken nose. 

“You alright?” The bartender asked coming around the bar and taking Jai’s arm in his hands, inspecting it. “You want me to call the cops?” 

Josh gently pulled Jaiaina away from the bartender, making him drop her arm. Jaiaina’s eyebrows furrowed together as Josh wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer, tucking her into his side.  “Nah, we good,” Josh said eyeing Slimy on the ground. Josh was tempted to knock Slimy’s teeth down his throat but decided against it as he led Jai out of the club and into the night's cool air. 

Jaiaina said nothing as she let Josh lead her outside. She momentarily allowed herself to lean into his familiar touch before remembering their current situation. “I’m fine now.” She said, taking another step away from him. “You can go back into the bar.” 

“And leave you out here?” He asked. “Bab–Jaiaina, you shaking.” 

“Okay, so send Trin or Mella out here. Go back inside.”  Josh sucked bus teeth and pulled off his black bomber jacket he was wearing and handed it to her. 

“Just take the damn jacket Jai” 

“I don’t want your damn jacket, Joshua. And I damn sure didn’t need your help back there. I had it.”

Josh scoffed and grabbed her arm, making them both look down at the purple bruise that was forming. “Yeah okay.” He snorted. He hated that she was so stubborn. “You can hate me all you want Jaiaina. But if you gon’ wait out here in the damn cold, take the damn jacket.” 

Jaiaina huffed and snatched the jacket out of his hands. “Happy?” She asked with a sarcastic smile and she slid her arms into the jacket. 

“Very.” Just as he said that the side door to the bar opened and her group of friends and Dasha spilled out. Dasha eyed the jacket and then narrowed her eyes at Josh, who was still looking at Jaiaina. 

“Girl! Are you okay?!” Trinity cried out as she and Leah rushed over to their best friend. Jai broke eye contact with Josh and turned her head towards her friends. 

“I’m fine. Just some weirdo who doesn’t understand the meaning of No.”  

Trinity, being the emotional drunk wrapped her arms around Jai’s head and pulled her down, so Jai’s head was resting on her breast. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help you friend.” She whispered as a few tears slipped down her face. Jon and Josh sucked their teeth. 

“Man, Trin get off her.” Jai let out a soft laugh as Jon pulled Trinity away from her. 

“Did I ruin the mood? Or can we go back in?” Jaiaina asked. 

“Hell no! You didn’t ruin the mood! C’mon!” Leah said as she grabbed Trinity’s and Jaiaina’s hands and started to lead them inside. 

“Actually. I’m not in the party spirit anymore… We’re gonna head back to the hotel. Dasha said as she walked over to Josh. Jaiaina hated the way her heart tightened in her chest. Jaiaina watched as Dasha slipped her hand into Josh’s, her fingers curling around his in that intimate, effortless way that people who were in love did. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a bit longer?” Josh asked, his voice soft but laced with that familiar warmth Jaiaina had once loved.

Dasha's hand tightened around his. “I’m sure. Come on, let’s go.” There was a finality to her words that Jaiaina couldn’t ignore.

Jaiaina’s chest tightened. It shouldn’t hurt this much. It shouldn’t hurt at all.

She and Josh had broken up for a reason—no matter how hard it had been. She told herself she was over it. Jaiaina forced herself to look away from the couple. 

“I think I'm gonna head back too. I forgot I have an early flight to Birmingham in the morning.” 

Birmingham? Josh arched his eyebrow at the mention of Birmingham. He knew there was only one reason why she was going there, which meant she lied to Jon earlier when he asked about her arm. 

Trinity and Leah shot her playful glares, but their smiles quickly softened into teasing hugs. After making Jaiaina promise to hang out once all three of them were in Florida, Jon, Trin, Leah and Corey walked back inside the bar. 

Jaiaina stood there awkwardly. She pulled her phone out of her clutch and ordered an Uber. She could feel Josh and Dasha’s eyes on her. 

“Oh, your jacket,” Dasha said as their Uber pulled up. 

“She can keep it. It’s cold as hell out here Baby.” Baby.. just hearing that Josh had a nickname for Dasha made Jaiaina sick to her stomach.  

“It’s fine..” Jaiaina trailed off as she took the jack off and handed it back to Josh. “I should have brought out my own coat.” 

“Yeah, you should have.” Dasha scoffed and snatched the jacket out of Jai’s hands. 

Be the bigger person Jaiaina thought, don’t beat this bitch’s ass. 

“C’mon man, you ain't have to snatch it,” Josh muttered as he walked towards the Uber. Dasha rolled her eyes and stomped after him. 

“Well, why did you give her your jacket? Could have let the hoe freeze for all I care.” 

Jaiaina gritted her teeth as the door to the Uber slammed shut and they drove away. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the deep breathing exercises her therapist told her to do. Forcing herself to take slow, deliberate breaths in and out. In through the nose, out through the mouth...

It didn’t work. Not this time.

Dasha was so lucky that Jaiaina actually enjoyed her job, cause Jai would have BEEN beat her ass by now. 

Jaiaina’s head had barely hit the pillow before three sharp, rhythmic knocks echoed through the room. Her stomach twisted into knots at the sound of the knocks. 

There was only one person in the whole world that knew three was her safe number. Sighing, she threw the covers off of her, grabbed her pink Versace robe, and opened the door.

“Why did you lie to twin earlier?” Jaiaina blinked. 

What?” she scoffed, a quick laugh escaping her. “What are you talking about?”

“Earlier, Jon asked about your arm. You said you were fine but you not. Why you going to Birmingham in the morning.” 

“What I have going on in my life doesn’t concern you anymore Joshua,” Jaiaina said firmly, trying to shut down the conversation before it could go any further.

“Don’t do that.” He muttered, his eyes never leaving hers. “Don’t act like you weren’t a major part of my life.” 

“I was. Not anymore Joshua. Go back to Dasha and leave me alone.” 

Josh’s jaw tightened as he took a deep breath trying to compose himself. “Look, I know –” 

“No,” Jaiaina said as she started to shake her head. “I’m not doing this with you.” Josh looked confused as she started to close the door in his face, at the last second, he put his foot in between the door and the fame. Jaiaine huffed as he easily overpowered her and gently pushed her away from the door. 

She stomped over to the bed and threw herself down on it, while Josh shut the door behind her and went to sit in the armchair that was placed between the bed and the window. 

“Josh, it's been six months since we last talked. Let’s just go back to that.” 

“I don’t want to. I fucking miss you Jaiaina.” 

Jaiaina laughed making Josh scoff. 

“The hell so funny?” 

“YOU!” She exclaimed as she jumped from the bed and pointed at him. “You think you can just come swoop in like some type of Superman after what you did?! Fuck off, Joshua!” 

“Jai, I know I said some fucked up shit but -” 

“Said?! No nigga. It's about what you did!” She cut him off.  “The fact that you fucked that bitch the same night we broke up was foul as hell Joshua!” 

“Woah!” He called out, jumping to his feet. “I ain't do no shit like that. Fuck is you talking about.” 

Jaiaina let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah okay.” She said mockingly with a roll of her eyes. “The bitch already told anybody who would listen. The same night you walked out of our hotel room, you went to her! And you fucked her.” Jaiaina couldn’t hold it back anymore, the tears that threatened to spill since the bar came flowing down her face.

"Jai, I swear to you, that's ain’t what happened," Josh said, his voice low and urgent. He took a step towards her, but Jaiaina backed away, shaking her head.

“Don’t Joshua. Just leave.” 

“Hell no. I’m not going anywhere. I lost you once, I’m not doing It again.” 

Jaiaina childishly covered her ears. “I’m not listening to any of the bullshit you are spewing tonight Joshua!” She uncovered her ears and narrowed her eyes at Josh. “Okay let's just say, you didn’t have sex with her the same night. You’re still with her now! And don’t deny it, I heard you call her baby.” When Josh didn’t deny it, Jaiaina felt her heart break even more. “Please just go. Go back to your girlfriend and go back to ignoring me.” She whispered as she lowered her eyes to the ground. 

Jaiaina heard him sniffle but she didn’t lift her head to look at him. “I never wanted to hurt you Jai.” Jaiaina didn’t say anything back, she didn’t have anything to say. She was exhausted. She just wanted to go to sleep and forget all about Josh by the morning. 

Josh sighed and started walking towards the door, the silence between them was too much. It was suffocating. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to make things right. But he didn’t know how. With one last glance at Jaiaina, he turned and walked out the door. 

As soon as the door shut, Jaiaina broke down, she covered her mouth with her hand to try and hide her sobs. Outside, Josh leaned against the closed door, his forehead pressed against the cool wood. He could hear Jaiaina's muffled cries through the thin barrier, and each sob felt like a knife twisting in his gut. He wanted nothing more than to burst back in, to take her in his arms and explain everything. But he knew she wouldn't listen, not now.

April 18th 2017

Birmingham, Alabama

Jaiaina knew it was stupid to go through this surgery alone, but WWE provided the best doctors so she knew she was in good hands. 

Waking up from surgery was a feeling she would never get used to. She let out a groan at the dull ache in her right shoulder and immediately she heard someone shh her and place a straw at her lips. The comforting sensation of the water helped clear some of the haze, but as she blinked her eyes open, the shock of who was sitting next to her hit her like a ton of bricks.

“I gotchu, relax.” 

“What are you doing here?” She whispered,  her voice scratchy and weak from the anesthesia.

“Making sure you alright and not alone.” 

“Josh please –” 

He shushed her again. “I broke whatever I had with Dasha off. Imma be truthful and say that yeah, I got with her to fuck with you after I heard the rumor about you and AJ but, I did not have sex with her that same night. To be honest, I never had sex with her, I haven’t had sex with anybody since you.” 

Jaiaina’s jaw dropped open. She didn’t know how to respond to that. She had spent the past six months hating Josh because she thought he was a slimy asshole. She didn’t know how to feel right now. 

“Josh I-”  She started, 

“I’m not asking you to forgive me, Jaiaina,” Josh continued, his voice soft but firm. “Not right away. Aight? I know I messed up, and I know it’s not gonna be easy. But I’m willing to work this out, but only if you want to.”

Jaiaina stared into his eyes, no matter how hard she tried she would never get rid of the love she had for this man. It was a big relief to finally hear the truth about the night that they broke up but he still hurt her by ignoring her for six months. 

“Please.” He whispered. “I always seen you in my life. Always seen you as the mother of my kids. Just give me one more chance.” 

Jaiaina’s breath caught in her throat. This was the most vulnerable she had ever seen him in the three years they had dated. 

“Okay,” She whispered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “But I swear on everything I love, this is your LAST chance.” 

Josh's face lit up with a mixture of relief and hope. He gently took Jaiaina's hand, careful not to disturb the IV line. “I promise you, I won't mess this up again. I love you too damn much.” 

Jaiaina stared at him for a second before a small smile came across her face. “I love you too.” 

Authors Note: I'm sorry if this sucked 😮‍💨😫

I've had this halfway written for about a year and just decided to say fuck it and finish it. I really do hope you all enjoy it! ❤️

Side Note:

Jaiaina had torn rotator cuff.

Josh definitely bribed and threatened an intern to tell him what was wrong with Jaiaina LOL!

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