#but nobody else really answers him do they now

[fuctacles]

Dude, That's My Ghost!

A @steddieexchange fic for @hellfireloserclub !! I hope you like it. The whole first chapter is up on Ao3.

E | ~9k | no cw | Soulmates AU, Supernatural Elements, Magical Bonds, Ghost Sex, No UD, Magical Bonds | more tags on Ao3! | beta read by @blasvemous <3

Disappearing Act

The Universe is an amazing creation. In its vastness, it gives you a Soulmate, so you don't feel alone despite your brief and meaningless existence. It may not be perfect, but it's thoughtful, and that's more than you can say about its inhabitants.

And yet, in this benevolent Universe, there is Steve Harrington.

"Ah."

He's standing in front of a guy, their hands outstretched and bare, their Soul-marks visible. At least what's left of them. 

Steve watches in horror as the swarm of bats moves around his skin in panic, vanishing one by one as if sucked into his body. They've been with him for years and now they're just... gone.

When he looks up at the man he's just met, the nail bat on his forearm has vanished as well. He looks more surprised than terrified, though, twisting his arm curiously.

"Well..." He purses his lips. "I'm sorry, mate." He shrugs. "It was nice meeting you."

And before Steve can grab him, or collect himself at all, the man disappears into the crowd. He doesn't feel anymore the tether that helped him find the man in the first place. It's all gone. The Soul-mark, the connection, his Soulmate. Who was clearly right in front of him just a minute ago.

What the fuck had just happened?

Nobody has an answer for him. As far as he knows, it has never happened before, ever. Steve Harrington must be just a special kind of fucked up, hated by the universe. Destined to be unloved. Even though for a brief moment, he wasn't. For a second, he felt whole, with his Soulmate right in front of him, within reach of his hand, but as soon as their palms touched... it disappeared.

There are people without them, but no one whose mark would vanish, like a candy yanked out of a kid's hand. And every day Steve wonders, why him? In a world where everyone was leaving him, where having someone tied to him was his only hope, the only chance for love, why him?

He had left that music festival, where he met the man supposedly destined for him, right after, to grieve his loss in the solitude of his apartment. It felt like a piece of his soul had been torn out and something inside him ached, open and bleeding, with no way to patch it up.

The taped boxes of Robin's stuff were like an additional kick in the gut. She was leaving him soon too, off to live with her soulmate, which she gets to have. He loves it for her, of course he does, but it was easier to do knowing there was someone out there for him as well.

To not think about it, he finally focused on what he's been putting away ever since Robin said she was moving in with Vickie. Looking for a new place, a one-person apartment for himself, and nobody else. It takes over a month, but when he finds it, he finds it. He knows it's the place he wants to call home.

It's shit. 

A small apartment carved from an unused attic space, perfect for a desperate single student. The bathroom barely fits a shower and a toilet and doesn't have any space left for a sink. He has to wash his hands in the kitchen, or the space that he's supposed to call one. It's a little far from college but in a pinch, he could cash in on Robin's promise that he's always welcome at her new place, which is just a short walk away from their school.

It's perfect.

Even if Robin asks him once if he's punishing himself for something that's not his fault, like a really weird interpretation of a martyr. But he just opens his tiny window and lets her listen to the birds from the park below. All she can hear from her windows are the honking cars and yells of the students trying to get the best parking spot. And that's a point for the 'you rule' column as far as he's concerned.

The place has one more perk she doesn't know of and he's not sure which column it would classify in.

Because he's sharing it with a ghost.

It's almost alarming how quickly he accepts it. One day he's listening to music to unwind, and the next he finds a note on his desk telling him his taste in music is shit.

"Hello?" he asks to the room as a whole. Nobody could hide there. There simply wasn't enough space.

His eyes widen when his pen moves.

You won't see me, it writes. Can you play a rock station?

Steve only blinks.

"Uh, sure," he says, staring at the pen. "Do you know the frequency?"

He gets a few numbers in response and reaches for the dials of the radio to set it up. Soon, a song he doesn't recognize fills out the cramped space.

"This okay?"

Yes. Thank you so much.

Thoughtfully, Steve pulls out a notebook and opens it on a blank page.

"Are you a ghost?" he asks, staring at the faint blue lines.

What's a ghost, Steve? appears the message, slightly crooked despite the clear guidelines. The handwriting somehow fits the vibe of the music playing from the radio. 

"How do you know my name?" he frowns at the words.

It's all over your books?

"Fair," Steve huffs, sitting heavily by his desk. "I don't know, a dead person?" he answers the previous question.

Well, I didn't die. So. Not a ghost I guess.

"Then what?"

What's left when your body is taken away from you?

Steve's frown deepens. What is this, an impromptu quiz test?

"Uh, a soul?"

Then that's what I am, probably.

"So where's your body?" Steve asks, perplexed.

Some asshole demon took it.

"A demon?" he asks flatly, raising his eyebrows.

You're talking to a floating pen and the demon is what's unbelievable?

"Well, I'm sorry I'd rather not believe demons exist!" Steve scoffs, throwing his arms up.

Sorry to break it to you buddy but they do. And I've learned it the hard way.

"Yeah, I can tell," he murmurs.

Don't be sassy with me, I'll break all your mugs.

"We're not summoning a demon."

"Okay, sheesh. No need for violence." Steve rolls his eyes. "So, what happened?"

"We're not summoning a demon because they don't exist," Jeff elaborates.

"How about some make-believe, hm?" Eddie puts his hands on his hips, clearly disappointed in his bandmates. "A bonding activity to boost morale?"

"You know what would boost morale?" Gareth points his drumstick at him. "Band practice."

"Fine!" Eddie throws his hands in the air. "I'll do it myself, but don't cry later when I'll be the only one blessed by the metal gods!"

"We won't," Doug assures him dryly.

"So it's gods or demons after all? Can't pick a side?"

Eddie flips them off with both hands before grabbing his guitar. He knows they are right, though. Only practice and improvement can give them a chance at the next battle of the bands. They were already so close to winning this year and were slowly becoming recognizable in the city. Getting there was slow but reachable, which was not how Eddie usually does things.

That's why, even if it's just for the peace of his own mind, a spiritual placebo, if you will, he grabs himself a beer and pulls out his D&D notes. He did way too much research on demons for his last campaign not to have some fun with it.

The instructions are cheesy, but it's exactly what he needs—something in good fun and on theme, even if it was supposed to be a group activity. He copies all the symbols, and chants, and draws blood. With his eyes squeezed shut, he makes his wish.

"Whoever is listening, help my band make it big."

The old wooden beams creak with their age. Nothing happens.

He opens his eyes, blinking to clear his vision, and realizes he's relieved. Summoning an infernal being to his little attic apartment didn't sound as thrilling as he had been selling to his friends earlier that day. To be honest, he just wanted to do some weird metal shit with his band that they could later talk about in interviews. "We sold our souls for this album," would be a bonkers headline for the front page.

"That can be arranged."

Eddie shrieks.

He grabs tighter the knife he's still holding from his blood sacrifice and turns around. There on his bed, criss-crossed and relaxed, sits a creature of nightmares.

"What the fuck?!" Eddie's voice doesn't sound as deep and intimidating as he'd like it to.

"You summoned me," the intruder deadpans.

"Oh. Oh, right." It doesn't make him any less terrified. "Uh, what do you want?" he stammers, hoping to get the demon out of his space as soon as possible. He wants to call the boys, would love to hear Gareth's annoying voice right about now, actually.

"For your wish? I want in."

Eddie frowns.

"In?"

And then I held up my guitar and told him to hop in but he hopped into my body instead and here we are.

"You ever heard of a cursed instrument?"

Steve stares at the string of words. And stares. And stares.

I know I'm stupid you don't have to tell me.

"Oh thank god, because I didn't want to make you feel even worse."

He looks around the place and slowly points at the bed.

"So, that demon, was sitting on the same bed I slept in last night?'

Not on these covers, obviously, but yes.

"Holy shit." Steve feels himself shudder with cold dread. He knows all of this might be a lie, since there is no way for him to fact-check it, but the idea is disturbing enough. "And the summoning circle?" He looks down at the floorboards below his socked feet.

It was about here, but I guess the bastard cleaned it. Took all my shit with him too.

"So he's just living your life now?"

I'd guess so.

"Have you looked for him?"

Buddy the first thing I remember since then is waking up to you moving in

Steve frowns.

"What?"

Shit. What year is it?

"1986," he answers, his frown deepening.

Thank gods. Summer?

"September. The new semester just started. What the fuck, man, when did this happen?"

Spring break. Just a few months ago, apparently.

"That's half a year!" Steve points out. "And you were what, just, unconscious this whole time?"

Yeah. Maybe you helped, I don't know. Was someone else living here?

He shakes his head.

"I was told the previous tenant left without a word and they haven't even noticed at first."

Can't imagine a demon knowing the intricacies of renting an apartment.

It's normal for about two days, as far as living with a ghost can be. But it all spirals one night when Steve feels something touch him when he's trying to fall asleep.

Wait. What about my deposit?!

He jerks back in alarm and pulls back the covers but sees no stray items left there. Takes another look around, checking if something fell from the mattress, but sees nothing. He settles down against his pillow.

"Eddie?" he asks quietly.

He almost faints when the radio cracks to life. The dials switch and rotate and through the white noise of static, come bits of songs and voices until one breaks through.

"...what?..."

"This isn't happening..." Steve mutters to himself, eyes wide. "You could talk this whole time?!"

"...had no idea...you just...annoy me so much...had to speak up..."

"What the fuck, man?!"

"...let me sleep..."

"You sleep?!" He's fully awake now himself. "Why? What for?"

"...maybe you...drain my energy...with George Michael..."

"Fuck away from George Michael!" his voice cracks, now on the edge of hysterics.

"...you fuck away...was here first..."

"Yeah, and you fucked it up!"

Right after he says it, something falls on his chest, pinning him to the mattress.

"...low blow Steve..."

Steve blinks at the nothingness around him. On top of him. He feels no weight, no touch, but something isn't letting him move. His confused senses make his brain overheat.

"You can touch me?"

He feels the sting of a slap on his cheek, but he's too confused to feel pain.

"Ow?" is all he manages to say.

"...yup..."

The thing on top of him shifts, now off his chest but pinning him from the waist down, like someone is straddling him. He reaches up with his hands, searching for an invisible person.

"...don't...it feels wrong..."

"Sorry." He retracts his hand. Blinking rapidly as if it could give him an insight to the soul realm, he searches for any sign of thighs splayed over his body. "This is weird."

"...no shit..."

His palm, still raised, feels something soft and tingly, and his fingers spread like someone is slotting theirs in between. Steve feels something tighten in his chest, a longing he's been trying to bury deep inside.

"...can we...go back to sleep?..."

Steve lets out a short, surprised laugh.

"Are you kidding me? I don't think I've ever felt more awake than right now." Then, he frowns. "Have you been sleeping with me all this time?"

"...yeah?...there's only one bed..."

"Unbelievable," he murmurs to himself. The first time he shares a bed with a guy and it's a fucking ghost. Soul. Whatever.

"...you want me to...sleep on the floor?..."

"No," Steve groans, falling back against his pillow. "Just get off me and go to sleep."

Eddie doesn't leave, but he lets go of his hand. Something presses against his abdomen.

"...how about...I get you off?..."

"What?"

There's a pressure against his groin, someone's phantom butt cheeks grinding down on him. So much has been happening, that he hasn't even realized he woke up half-hard.

"No, it's alright—"

"...you sure?...you'll sleep like a baby..."

Steve lets out a surprised snort.

"That so, nurse Eddie?"

"...roleplay?...already?...you change mind quickly..."

"I was joking." Steve rolls his eyes, but Eddie grinds against him again.

"...I would make...a great nurse...I'm very caring...attentive..."

"That so?" Steve quirks his eyebrow, simultaneously telling his brain that he's not going to seek care and attention from the ghost in his apartment.

Though, on the other hand, he doesn't have a Soulmate anyway.

He just wishes there was a waist he could grab onto, a body he could feel, a smile he could see. But as Eddie brings him to completion, he realizes this is all he might be getting from life.

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thirst squad tags: @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters):

Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Genie Adesanya (Jayme Lawson) x Ellington “EJ” Dupree (Kelvin Harrison Jr.)

Chapters:

Neon Lights Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: Imani and Jameson show all sides of their feelings for each other and come to a devastating realization.

Warnings: smut (18+), toxic relationship, emotional breakdown (x3) -- if we missed anything, let us know!

Word Count: 5.2k

Divider Template: @cafekitsune

Notes: 

The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

The liquor brought a different Imani to the surface. She was less level-headed, more vulnerable and needy. This Imani thought about what her heart said above anything else. It told her to text Jameson. It told her to call him when he didn’t answer. It told her to tell him to come get her. And it told her to go through all of those texts he left while she had him blocked. Then it told her to read his RHYTHM article she never got a chance to read. 

Fuck. This man was obsessed with her. Deep down, she knew that, but reading the article and seeing his texts opened her eyes to his love even more. A huge smile formed on her face when she got the text that he was outside. She strutted out of the gala and over to his car to see him, standing there in sweats and a simple tee, black jacket unzipped as he waited for her. He was holding the door open, a look of trepidation on his face. My poor baby. She grabbed his shirt, pulling him into her embrace. 

Imani kissed his lips, not caring what onlookers were watching. She missed him and she was going to let it be known. “I missed you.” She said, her speech slightly slurred. “This bald head lookin’ real good on you too even though it brings out your dumbo ears.” Her fingers caressed his face before she gave one of his earlobes a tug. 

He seemed shocked before he began abruptly laughing, shaking his head. “No wonder you called. You’re drunk as hell. Get in the car, Imani.” 

“I��m not drunk. Just a little tipsy.” She corrected him. She took his hand, using it for leverage as she slipped inside his car then he shut the door. Her eyes never left him as he walked to the driver’s side and got in. They stayed on him as he put the car into drive and drove away from the party. 

She noticed the way his muscles popped out of his shirt. How his eyes looked when he was focused. And his lips. Those damn lips. Imani didn’t even feel the car being in motion. She didn’t know where the hell they were going. She was just happy to be with him again. That’s all she knew. She leaned forward, touching his thigh and kissing his lips. “Baby, you really think I’m your soulmate?” She blurted out. 

Jameson gave her a sidelong glance, the answer obvious but he seemed almost reluctant to give it to her. “...Yes. I believe my life ain’t a full life unless I’m loving you. I’m always loving you and living for you. Nobody else.” Fuck. She could feel the dampness fill her eyes. She didn’t want to cry right now. Not in front of him. She batted her eyes, hoping that her tears would hold off. 

He told her he loved her in many different ways, but she never thought he viewed her as his soulmate. “You shoulda been with me the whole time.” She murmured. “I thought about you all fuckin’ night. I felt so…off without you. How do you do that? Invade my thoughts like that?”

“I should ask you. You do the same to me. I’m always thinking about you.” He replied, his voice soft and the words coming easier.

“I’m always thinking about you too. Even when you’re blocked. I was searchin’ your name on Instagram, just so I could see you.” Imani pressed kisses against his cheek then his jawline then his neck. She couldn’t keep her hands off of him.

“Baby,” he murmured. “Baby, baby...I love to hear that. I love that you’re just as obsessed with me as I am with you. But I need you to put your seatbelt on. Tell me where to take you.” he said, hand reaching out to touch her thigh.

She should have said home. It was what sober Imani would have wanted. But she wasn’t her right now. She was drunk Imani and she knew exactly where she wanted to go.

“To your house, daddy. I want to be with you tonight. No one else.”

Alarms were ringing off in his mind. Picking Imani up? Bad idea. Bringing her to his house? Even worse. But he couldn’t help himself. She needed him and even though he swore to himself that he was done trying, he didn’t want to disappoint her again. Getting her inside proved to be more difficult than he thought it would be. She couldn’t keep her hands off him, constantly touching his face and arms. 

He could barely unlock the door to his house with her hoisted up in his arms and it was even more difficult because she kept kissing him. When they finally stumbled into the house, he thought he would be able to get a breather. Maybe help her out of her heels so she could clean up and get into bed. But instead, she was kissing his lips and it wasn’t like the kiss she gave him outside of the gala. It set him on fire from the inside out. 

Chills broke out across his arm and he kissed her back without thinking – his tongue pressed to hers. Jameson slowly placed Imani on her feet, pulling her closer by the waist. He felt her acrylics pressed to the back of his neck and it made him groan. It would have been so easy to pull her out of her dress. It would be just a small shifting of fabric…but no. He had to do this right. They had a chance. He had to get it right this time. So he forced himself to pull back. He groaned lowly and spotted the pout on her face. He was not God’s strongest warrior and was sick of being tested.

“Don’t stop.”

He dropped his head to her shoulder, fingers toying with the fabric at her waist. “Fuck, g-go get cleaned up baby, so we can get you in bed.” 

Imani shook her head, refusing his request. “No. I’m still mad at you. I wish I wasn’t so mad at you. I want to be with you.” She said softly. He looked up, gazing into her eyes. He saw everything. Her hurt. Her anger. Her pain. Her love. It tore him to pieces. He wanted to talk about it all but she wasn’t in the right state to do that. 

Instead, he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “I know, baby. I know. I wish I could take it all back. Trust me, I do. But let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?”

Reluctantly, she agreed. “Okay, daddy, but I want you to know this. I love you. I will always love you even when I’m mad at you. I can’t get enough of you, Jameson Julian Lucas. You’re all I ever think about.”

It was like everything he ever wanted to hear from her was free-flowing. Every single word weakened his resolve to stay away from her a little more. She needed a new start – he wanted to give that to her. But he was torn between his selfish desire to love and be loved by her.

“I believe you. Come on, let’s get you out of those shoes so you can go take your shower. I’ll be right here when you get back, I promise.” He bent down, undoing the strap of her heels one after the other. She carefully stepped out of both. His hand rested on her waist as he encouraged her to ascend the stairs.

Her dress hugged her curves, a flash of her thigh showing every time she lifted her leg to rise up the stairs. This was going to be a long night. 

Imani turned around to face him with a lopsided grin. “I won’t keep you waiting long, I swear.” She kissed him again, deepening the kiss as soon as it began. Her head tilted, giving her easier access to his mouth then she slowly pulled away. “Just somethin’ to remember me by.”

After that, she sauntered to his bedroom. He exhaled loudly – frustration eating him up from the inside out. He was happy she was with him, because she was safe, but she was making things very hard for him. His head dropped down and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You got this.” he whispered to himself. 

He didn’t know what to do with himself. He paced the hallway, went back downstairs and grabbed cold bottles of water, then went back upstairs to shift things around his bedroom. It was pristine, but he needed a distraction. 

He heard her before he saw her. “Daddy,” she said softly, the door creaking open. “I need to borrow one of your shirts. Or I could sleep naked. What’s better for you?” Jameson turned to veto the idea of her sleeping naked – and was greeted by the sight of her without clothes, soaking wet. She didn’t even bother to wrap up in a towel. He took his time gazing over her, his eyes sweeping her frame.

He could not have her in his room, in his bed, naked. Not when he was already losing his mind. 

Jameson quickly moved across the room, heading into the adjoining walk-in closet and pulling a t-shirt from a drawer. He ignored a pile of her clothes in his closet. He wanted her in something of his to lay in his bed. He tossed it over his shoulder and strode out of the closet toward her. “You can wear this one.” 

Stepping closer to her was a mistake. He saw her frame up close and could smell the faint vanilla on her. He noticed all of her body piercings – her nipples, her belly button and her clit. Got damn it. He closed his eyes, counting to ten. 

“Jamie, open your eyes.” She said. “Are you scared of naked me?”

He didn’t answer her question. This was like being in heaven and hell all at once. The heaven part was obvious: he had Imani’s full attention, they weren’t arguing, and she was naked. The hell part wasn’t so obvious: he couldn’t touch her the way that he wanted, there was a big ass elephant in the room they couldn’t address because he had no idea if she would remember this conversation, and she was naked. 

Instead of focusing on this state, he tried to focus on getting her half-dressed. Jameson pulled the shirt from his shoulder, opening the fabric so that she could put her head through. An excuse to touch her but she didn’t complain. Imani lifted her arms and he slipped the t-shirt over her body. She was still naked underneath but something was better than nothing.

“Thank you, baby.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured against her lips. Jameson picked up the water bottle, twisting the cap off of it before he handed it over to her. “Drink this.”

Imani wrinkled her nose but took the water bottle from him, taking a huge sip before placing it on the nightstand. Without any prompting from him, she turned and pulled the covers back on the bed. Jameson sighed in relief, believing that once she lay down, she’d be out. “Come here, please,” she asked him softly, crawling under the sheets. “I can’t sleep without you.”

What else could he do? The truth was that he didn’t want to do anything else. So he did as she asked. Jameson slipped in beside her, draping his arm across her body. He placed a small kiss on her neck, nuzzling against her. He didn’t know if he’d ever get to have this again. Everything between them was so chaotic and fucked up. So he wanted to savor it – but a thought occurred to him while they lay there. He knew she’d answer honestly because she was drunk…and he asked before fear could snuff it out. “Imani…why do you love me? I mean I’m a piece of shit. Always have been. So why do you love me?”

Imani was quiet for a moment and he thought he missed his window. But when she spoke again, he knew she was thinking. “Because I never had anybody care for me in the way that you do. You’re always looking out for me in a way that no one has. I’ve never had a man care for me like that before.” 

A sense of sadness washed over him. What did that say about the other people in her life? There was no doubt that he loved Imani. But he knew he wasn’t always the best to her. If the way he treated her was the best she ever had in a relationship – no wonder she gave in to their dysfunction every time. What else did she have to compare it to?

“I can be better.” He told her softly. “I will be. I’ll take care of you better.”

“You not finna make me cry tonight, Jay. You can forget that shit.” 

“I’m not trying to make you cry, baby.” He told her softly, holding her closely. “I’m just trying to figure us out. I think it’s time that we do. I want you to be happy to be with me.”

“You are the love of my life” Imani whispered against his chest. “I will never love anyone like I love you. I know one day you will get it together…we will get it together because I can’t imagine life without you.”

Sunlight hit her like a hammer to the damn head. Her eyes were still closed, but she could feel the warmth of it on her face, an unrelenting brightness that made her groan softly. The dull ache in her skull throbbed in time with her heartbeat, and her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. She was never going to drink again.

Imani shifted slightly, wincing at the stiffness in her body. That’s when she noticed it—the unfamiliarity of the sheets covering her, the faint scent of cedarwood. This wasn’t her bed. It was Jameson’s. She’d know the smell of that man anywhere.

She cracked one eye open, her vision swimming as she took in the room. It was dimly lit, the curtains drawn halfway, but she could make out the minimalistic decor: dark furniture, muted tones, and plush sitting chair across the room. Her stomach sank. She gave in. She remembered feeling sad, mournful. Wanting to call him. And then…she did.

Fuck.

Imani’s eyes darted to the other side of the bed. It was empty, the sheets rumpled but cool to the touch. She exhaled a shaky breath, relief and something else—disappointment?—mixing uneasily in her chest.

Before she could dwell on it, the door creaked open and there stood Jameson with a tray of food. “Good morning.”

It was unfair he looked so good that early in the damn morning. Imani lifted her hand, brushing against her hair as she tried to at least look like she hadn’t been drunk as shit, emotional, and all over him. “Hey.” she said softly, gathering the sheets around herself as he came further in. The tray had a plate of eggs and french toast, a bowl of fresh fruit, and a glass of grapefruit juice. Her stomach growled loudly and Imani met his gaze with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Jameson nodded and let her eat. For twenty minutes, he watched and she ignored the fact that he was watching her. He didn’t say a word but patiently waited for her to clear the plate. When she was done, he picked it up and took it out of the room…silently.

Imani blinked as she watched him go. She didn’t know what to do next but slowly made her way out of bed and tried to find something to wear. She had to get the hell out of there.

When he got back upstairs, she was out of his bed. “Mani?” he called out, relieved when he saw her emerge from the closet. She was wearing her clothes – shit she had left behind in the many nights they spent together. Even though she hadn’t said a word, Jameson could feel that the wall was back up between them. Last night may as well have been a fever dream.

“Hey.” She said softly.

“Hey.” He replied.

The two just watched one another, cautious. Last night, they said everything they wanted to – freely and happily. But that was last night and now they were in a new day. Jameson sighed softly. He didn’t know how to start this but he knew it had to be done. “We should talk.” 

Imani seemed to freeze at the idea. “I-I’m not even supposed to be here.” Her movements slowed and for a moment, Jameson thought she would agree. “You go first. I said all I needed to.”

He shrugged, lifting his hands as if confused before clasping them together behind his back. “What are we supposed to do? Do I just…let you go? Do I fight for us? I need you to tell me what you need, Imani.” Last night, he’d cycled through two different emotions: determination to get her back and crushing realization that the rollercoaster process was hurting her. He had decided to let her go. But that one phone call made him come running back. He knew he always would when she called.

Imani spoke again, interrupting his thoughts. “I don’t know anymore. I don’t know how to get past you choosing her over me.”

He opened his mouth to deny it like he had last night at the gala but if he was going to be honest with her – he had to go all the way. “You’re right. I may not have said it but I did turn my back on you. But…Sloane is in the past.”

“Okay…but that can’t fix the issue between us now.” She chided him with a shake of her head, “You said nothing while she joked about our relationship. You took up for her when I called her out on it. I stood there alone – by myself.” She said, glaring at him. “You didn’t have my back and I...I never expected that from you.”

Jameson had devastated her with his affair. The first betrayal had cut deep but that was some faceless girl she had never met before. A fling he had immediately regretted. Sloane was different. Jameson stood at her side and she just knew she had him wrapped around her finger. It made Imani feel like a fool…and she couldn’t quite forgive him for letting her do that to them.

“I was wrong. I’ve said that already. And I’m sorry. But our relationship is about more than Sloane. I’m trying to be what you need."

“I..” She looked down at her feet and when she looked back at him, her eyes were cloudy with tears.  “I don’t think you can be what I need anymore.” She said quietly. “I thought we could move past everything but I need someone that’s going to have my back, no questions asked. And I don’t think that’s you.”

Jameson was silent for a second. She could tell he seemed stunned but he rebounded quickly.

“Okay.” All he wanted to do was hold on to her. He managed to talk himself into letting her go, wanting her to heal, but then he held her in his arms last night – and he couldn’t quite imagine his life without her. But as Jameson watched tears fill her eyes, he knew he couldn’t say anything to change her mind. This was what she needed. He swallowed thickly, nodding his head. “Why’d you call me back last night?”

“I was drunk. I shouldn’t have.” She answered quickly. Imani blinked a few times. The tears fell rapidly down her face.

He shouldn’t have asked that. 

Jameson knew it the second she began to cry. He was making this harder for her. “It’s okay.” He tried to reassure her, moving closer without thinking. His thumbs brushed at her eyes, trying his best not to cry with her. “It’s okay. I understand.”

Loving her meant being willing to give her anything. He could do it. He could give her this. A good, clean break. 

“It’s not okay…” She sniffed. “Why couldn’t you just–” her voice cracked and her demeanor changed. Suddenly, Imani needed to get out of here. “Where’s my phone? Have you seen it?” She pulled away from him, walking around the bedroom. She pushed the pillows away.

“Mani, don’t…” They had been together and broken up before but this felt more brutal. “We’re saying goodbye.” He said morosely. “I think we owe each other this last conversation. Don’t we?”

But she continued tearing his bedroom apart, looking for her phone.

“I can’t do this. I need to go.” Imani said shakily. “Where’s my fuckin’ phone?” She mumbled, tossing the covers back. She opened drawers, making a mess.

Jameson finally forced himself out of his stupor and followed her around the room, stupidly picking up things she tossed aside. “Mani, please…” he muttered, torn between his desire to make this easier for her and the need to soak up every minute he had left with her. “Imani, stop! Fuck! This is how it ends? You can’t sit down with me and talk about it?”

His voice stopped her in her tracks, breaking him from her shock. Her cheeks were stained with her tears. She knew he had never seen her like this before. “I can’t do this, Jameson! I have t-to go. I can’t say goodbye to you! I don’t want to say goodbye to you.”

“When you leave…that’s goodbye.” he said softly. “That’s it, baby. So why not just…say everything you need to say. Let me hold you. And then – then that’s it.”

She shook her head, sniffing. Imani sat down on the bed. She sobbed, “I’m not ready to say goodbye to you…that makes — that makes everything harder.”

Jameson watched her breakdown, alarmed because it didn’t matter what he did – he couldn’t fix it. He couldn’t make this simple and easy for her. How could it be that they loved each other enough to not want to let go…but that was the exact thing they needed?

He kneeled in front of her, his hands framing her face. “Okay. So we don’t say goodbye. What about…what about space? Just space? Hmm? It means one day. Just not now.”

Imani paused, looking away. “Space.” She sniffed. “Ye-yeah, we can call it that.”

He didn’t let hope fill his chest. It didn’t matter what they called it, she didn’t believe in them anymore. He couldn’t blame her. She had plenty of reasons not to. But she seemed to need to say they were going to hold on to each other. “Space.” Jameson repeated, blinking away his own tears. “I can help you find your phone but I…I bought you something for Christmas. I want to give it to you before you go. Can I?”

She wiped her eyes, sighing loudly. “Yes. You can give it to me.”

He felt if he got up, she’d disappear from right in front of him. Still, he rose from his knees and moved to the closet. He was a single man in a lonely ass house. Decorating wasn’t his forte or his interest so he hadn’t put up a tree. Instead, her gifts were expertly wrapped and waiting in his closet.

The rectangular present contained two gifts inside it. One was a letter he’d written before…well, before his world fell apart. She had stopped talking to him but he never really thought things would be over. Maybe the letter would be some comfort to her but he knew there was none for him.

“I uh – I pulled this together a few weeks ago. After everything happened. I wanted you to know I was sorry and that…That I love you.” Jameson told her when he emerged with the box in his hand. “You can open it at home.”

If she opened in front of him, he’d fall apart. He’d beg her to stay. And he couldn’t afford to do that.

Imani watched him with wary, red eyes. When she reached to take the box, they both gazed at the fancy wrapper. Everything had changed. A break was a break. They wouldn’t be able to make each other smile anymore. They wouldn’t have those annoying long phone conversations in the middle of the night. But she also knew he would make her cry less. She would be less agitated at the inconsiderate way he behaved. 

Imani knew some time without Jameson would be good for her. But she didn’t want what was good. She wanted him. 

“Jamie, I…” she began before stopping abruptly. Her throat practically closed on her when she tried to say anything like goodbye. The way he kept looking at her like he’d never see her again brought the anxiety right back to her chest. She jumped up, swiping at her eyes quickly. “I’ll see you when I see you.” Imani said quickly, ignoring the way he didn’t take his eyes off her as she moved. 

“I love you, Imani.”

He chose his final words with precision. Imani stumbled over the dress she wore the night before, caught off guard. When she glanced down, she saw her phone had been hiding underneath the fabric. She wasted no time snatching the device up and calling for her driver as she left him standing in the middle of his bedroom.

All he had left was a dress and some memories. 

All she had left was a wrapped gift and a stomach full of nervous regrets.

Imani thought she would be okay once she left his house. She thought that she would realize she was making the right decision. But she couldn’t break away from that sinking feeling of regret. It was like quicksand underneath her. Was she making the right decision? The question plagued her mind as she rode in the SUV. It only sickened her more when she was by herself. She sat on the couch curled up in a ball. The sounds of some random HBO show bounced off the walls along with her sobs. 

Imani wanted to call him. She couldn’t live like this. But she refused to give in. She couldn’t. She made her choice and she couldn’t go back. It was better for both of them. At least that’s what she convinced herself. 

Instead of dialing his number, she sat on her couch, staring at the boxed gift, which had become a box of torture. She was scared to open it. Imani had done enough feeling for today. She was tired and didn’t want to feel anything anymore. 

Yet she hadn’t looked away from that damn box since she got it for him. She sighed softly, knowing the only way she would be able to get over this is if she got through it. 

She sat up. Imani picked up the nicely wrapped box. Her hands were trembling as she opened it. There was a small box with a ring and two pieces of paper inside. One of them was a deed with her name on it to some land in Los Angeles. The other was a letter addressed to her. She picked up the letter. The tears already started to fall as she read her name. 

Each word it felt like it chipped away at what sanity she had left. She read it over and over again. To the point that her sobs became uncontrollable. Her breath became shallow and her vision was clouded with tears. She felt like she was drowning and the one person she wanted to call to save her was out of reach.

 It was time she saved herself.

The knock at the door and ringing of his doorbell barely registered over the haze of whiskey and regret clouding Jameson’s mind. He stumbled to answer it, kicking over a bottle he'd finished off last night. He damn near fell down the stairs. With a last second grasp onto the banister, he saved himself from falling. Squinting against the harsh sunlight, he managed to make it to the front door. There stood a man he didn't know with a package. "Mr. Lucas?" he asked.

Jameson nodded slowly, unfazed when he was handed a small, neatly wrapped package with a letter. He mumbled something polite and signed for it without any questions. He didn’t give a damn what it was, he just wanted to be left alone.

Then just as he wanted, the stranger was gone.

He stood there for a moment, the little package heavy in his hand. The handwriting on the envelope containing the letter was unmistakable. It was hers. 

Jameson quickly closed the door, stumbling to his couch. His movements were sluggish and uncoordinated, the alcohol from the past few days catching up to him, but he wanted to open the damn thing very badly.

His hands shook as he tore the paper, the sound of ripping edges too loud in the quiet room. Beneath the wrapping was a sleek black box. He opened it with unsteady fingers, his breath hitching when he saw what was inside.

A watch.

He lifted it from the box, gazing at it in appreciation. The design was understated and elegant, the kind of thing he wouldn’t have picked for himself. He turned it over and saw a date – and immediately knew what it was. Jan. 28, 2020. The day they met.

He immediately put the watch down and tore open the letter she sent, reading it with greedy eyes. Each word hit him hard in the chest. He blinked quickly, vision blurring the more he went on. He read it over and over before carefully placing the letter onto his table and then picking up the watch again.

His breathing was short, choppy as he tried to calm himself down. He was grieving her all over again. The tears he wouldn’t let himself cry for days finally came down. Jameson couldn’t even be ashamed about it. Besides, he was all alone. Who could see him?

Placing the watch on his wrist, Jameson put it on. He adjusted the band, making sure it looked just right, all the while thinking of Imani. Every word in her letter and every word she uttered the last time he got to wrap her in his arms. He had thrown it all away.

The watch was a reminder. Not a sense of hope – even though her letter had been sweet and encouraging. This was a punishment.

Jameson closed his eyes, lifting his hand to roughly clear his eyes and dry his face. His heart ached and he was already tired of feeling it. He rose from the couch, slowly walking back up the stairs to his unfinished bottle of whiskey and a bed where he couldn’t quite escape the smell of vanilla no matter how many times he washed his sheets.

[crystalslucky]

Crystal listened intently as he gave his thoughts on the situation, nodding along to look as though she was taking it all in. "Death or mass abduction is our only options here? The only way I see mass kidnapping making sense is…aliens. Though, I don't know if I'd give up on the afterlife theory just yet." She had been out in the lake in the middle of the night after all, either death or alien abduction made sense to her as an outcome for arriving here.

"That is kind of weird huh? You get this big group of people and then randomly one offs come around to join the party? You'd think would whoever brought us here just have us all show up all at once and then nobody else, otherwise what's the point of bringing the whole group if you've got a few stragglers every few weeks that you forgot about."

But what did she know, right? That seemed like something that would take way too much time and energy to figure out. Especially when she would much rather focus on Tej than some mystery. At least she might get actually somewhere with Tej, at least she hoped so based off the way he looked at her and licked his lips. "I'm glad you agree. You do strike me as a guy who likes to have a good time though so it looks like I waved down the right person. Maybe you can give me a tour and show me all the best spots on this beach."

Crystal did love the paint splatter effect that his gem seemed to have, from the parasocial knowledge she had of him, it seemed like it suited him. But she wasn't going to say it out loud so instead she posed it as a question. "You into art? Big on paint? Or do these little accents have a deeper meaning than that?" Her own gem, she wasn't entirely sure of. The only blue gems she knew about were sapphires, and it didn't have any special touches like his did. "I don't know. I think it's lovely though. And I do like the idea that I could make someone jealous. Not like I have any control over what I got."

She hummed softly, shrugging at his remark about sneaking into pools. "Maybe. It's also very good when you want some alone time." which in a way was true. Wanting that time to be alone and self reflect, until she ended up here. Then a question meant to be more heart wrenching. Did she really miss anyone? Maybe her parents, despite everything they always did their best to be there for her. But…it was incredibly difficult for her to think about anyone truly special enough to miss. Crystal looked down at her feet dangling in the water, clasping her hands together in her lap and letting out an almost wistful sigh. "I don't really have anyone back home to miss. People in my life are either already gone or don't deserve to be missed. What about you? Feeling homesick?"

Any other concerns? In this moment Crystal didn't think she had any right to have any concerns. Even if her dramatic lore drop caused a shift in the mood, she was still on a beautiful beach with perfect weather, chatting up a hot guy. She was having a great time. "That's about it for now. I don't see this getting dull for me any time soon, I'm a simple girl, easy to please." she answered, giving him a coy smile. "I've met a few other people but not too many yet. Though, you know what I did see that there's that list of everyone's phone numbers hung up. I thought that was so cute and thought it would be fun to text a few numbers to say hi. So there's some I've met just not in person."

"There's actually one," she started, chuckling in amusement to herself as her brain already started to twist the events that took place. "It was kind of funny, kind of weird, I think his name is Zaid? That's what the name was on the sheet next to the number. I think he really misunderstood me and thought I was hitting on him over text. Like, ok, ego much? I was just being nice and all of a sudden he invited me over for 'dinner'." she put emphasis and air quotes around the word, as if he hadn't offered up the information to her that he was a chef. "I don't know what that's all about. But I don't think I'm going, especially if he's some kind of weirdo."

Why were they there. A frost filled his chest, an ice cold spring of dread. Those rows of bungalows did not house as random of a sampling as it seemed. Not when Tej knew a few of them, or discovered being separated by a degree from another. A self-centered view but then again how could he not think that way?

"Yeah," he started. "See, I dunno. Thought maybe I bit it, you know. Died. We're all dead." Tej thought about it enough after Inika, so maybe his wish was granted. "Too obvious, the dead thing? It'd be an elaborate mass kidnapping otherwise, yeah? But, ah. Not sure how long it's been. Months now. Woke up with a big group of people. The first group. Or, first ones in awhile."

Why waste time asking unanswerable questions. Tej wasn't sure he was the type to accept the unknowable or wander blindly through it. However, that did not matter in the moment. Hell, didn't even care if she was real or a figment of his imagination. The anesthetic of grief deadened the nerves for so long, but now they began to feel again. "Enjoying ourselves, yeah." He wet his lips, gaze in a quick sweep over her again. "When you put it that way, it's almost impossible to resist."

She kept his arm in place to admire the stone. "I'm just special, hm. It's nice. An opal, I think. Reminds me of paint. Little splattered specks of the stuff." He did the same to her bracelet, reached out for Crystal's wrist and brushed the pads of his fingers over the blue stone. "Gotta wonder what these mean. Everyone's is different. What about yours. It's bright, clear. I'm sure someone will envy it."

Tej eyed the calm in front of them. Imagined Crystal alone in a pool with only the glow of the water reflected on the walls (the same color as her stone). "Sneaking into a pool? Thought that's reserved for skinny dipping with friends." In a public pool? Nah. He wondered if Crystal was in the community one at Barretto park but decided not to pursue it.

"Fine, not a black out. I might've seen a light. Barely remember now." His chin lifted. "Missing anyone back home?"

Tej thought nothing of the smooth slide from tacos to pizza. Tej nodded with a sliver of a smile. "Everyone's got their favorite place for a slice, but there's not really a bad one in New York, yeah?"

At the word cuisine, Tej sat a little straighter. Shoulders stiff, smile faded. Everything came back to Zaid, and it was infuriating. A star chef probably could whip up a delicious rival pizza using the processed dregs in the warehouse, no problem. Fuck Zaid. "Yeah, shit out of luck food wise. Well, you've seen the warehouse? There's packaged and tinned foods in there. Nothing fresh. Some people are doing the hunting and foraging thing. There is a fishing hole too. Fish jump right into the baskets. If you find a stand or food truck, lemme know."

"Got any other concerns aside from an empty stomach, Crystal from NYC?" Perhaps the easy air she seemed to move through this horror show with should be unnerving. It kind of wasn't. A temporary relief, more than anything. A chance to shut his mind off to the seriousness around him. "It's not gonna get dull dipping your toes in the water every day? Staring at the same crowd. Have you met anyone else?"

[lunaremy]

guy thats going through hell and back in the present vs guy that went through hell and back in the past except guy 1's issue is "im so tired of protecting people please let me rest" and guy 2's issue was "i hate people so fucking much please let me kill people"

[starpros-sunshine]

You know. I'm part of the fraction "to each their own and let people handle their lives however they see best fit". But I do feel the need to say that I have seldom seen such an idiotic assumption as that breaking up with someone four days before someone's birthday when you also want that someone to do something for their birthday even though you know you and your soon-to-be-ex will both have to be there won't end with that person just not doing anything with anyone for their birthday. Partially because nobody wants that kind of awkwardness after a fresh breakup and also because the soon-to-be-ex has the lovely habit of wallowing in self pity and making everything about how they have it so bad. You know I just think in such cases you should've waited a week with the breakup. I don't care how much you want to fuck that other guy but I really think you should've waited a week.

[downfallofi]

.

[elytrafemme]

call the hairdresser and call the mediator because the way i'm splitting to the fucking ends right now

[enderlovez]

A Little Timid

Spencer Reid x Shy Female Reader WORD COUNT: 1100+

Summary: You bring Spencer something for dinner during a particularly stressful case. One thing, though—nobody else knows you exist.

Content Warning: Spencer is overworking himself and forgetting to eat, reader has a sister and a niece/nephew (not specified), pet names

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

You and Spencer have been dating for nearly three years, and throughout that time he's visited your workplace more times than you can count. Usually to spend your lunch breaks with you, sometimes just so he can sit and be in your company as you work.

Which your boss is completely fine with, for some reason unknown to you.

Oftentimes you find yourself wishing you could do the same for him, on the nights where he doesn't come home until stupidly late, but every time you bring up maybe bringing him lunch on your days off, he shoots you down entirely. Like a bird out of the sky, or some other stupid simile you can't be bothered trying to come up with.

It's quite different for him, being a federal agent and such, working with sensitive subjects and often in harsh environments, so you suppose it does make sense that he would want to keep you away from all that. Still, you can't help but feel a little hurt and slightly embarrassed every time he denies your requests.

And yet...

"You sound tired," you comment softly, stirring the pot of chicken soup in front of you.

"Mhm."

"Have you eaten anything yet?"

There's no response, which is answer enough for you.

"Lovey, you need to eat," you say with a sigh, putting down the spoon you were stirring with and lean back against the counter beside the stove.

"I know," he mumbles quietly.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes turned down to the ground. "I'm making chicken soup, I could bring you some for dinner, if you'd like?" you suggest weakly. "And some of the bread I finished making earlier. You know, I could sit with you for a while."

Before he's even responded, you're bracing yourself for rejection.

"That would be nice," he sighs.

Immediately, the tension in your body melts away, a tiny smile making its way onto your face.

"You want me to bring one of those cinnamon rolls you like, too?"

"Yes please..." His voice is so quiet, you're sure he's practically falling asleep at his desk.

"Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes."

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Spencer doesn't really think about much when he hangs up the phone. Only that he's really hungry right now, and that he really likes your chicken soup.

The fact that his coworkers don't even know you exist doesn't cross his mind once. Only when you're actually walking into the bullpen, does he realize he should've given them a bit of a heads up, because everyone is looking at you now.

No horrible looks, of course, they're only curious of who you are and why you're here, but you've never particularly liked people looking at you. It makes you feel all anxious and jittery.

Your eyes quickly scan the room (definitely taking note of all the people watching you) and when you finally find your target, a small smile makes it onto your face, despite the discomfort.

He pulls another chair over to his desk as you make your way over, walking just a little faster usual, and place one of those reusable supermarket bags in front of him.

"Hey there," you murmur, bringing his hand to your face so you can press a soft kiss to the back of it. This time, he doesn't even mention how many stupid pathogens can be passed through your hands.

"Beautiful girl," is all he says, quiet and uncharacteristically drowsy, as he reaches into the bag and pulls everything out. Two perfectly warm thermoses, a brown paper bag with some of your fresh bread inside, and two saran-wrapped cinnamon rolls that you've already heated.

You chuckle softly, taking your share of the food and offering him a hunk of warm bread.

Spencer bites off a chunk of the bread and really takes a look at you, now that you're distracted with your own soup. You're wearing a baby pink milkmaid dress, the same one you wore to your sisters baby shower last year, and a white cardigan with little flowers embroidered all over it.

He gifted you the plain cardigan, you were the one who added all the flowers and personal touches.

"I really appreciate this," he hums, finally opening the thermos of soup and spooning some of it into his mouth with one of the metal utensils you brought with you.

"I'm always happy to bring you food when you need it, lovey. Even when you don't necessarily need it, I'll come running," you say in a low voice, sipping your own soup straight from the thermos. "I wish you'd let me do it more. Even when you're not starving and sleep deprived."

He chuckles at the playful lilt in your voice, but knows you're actually being completely serious. "Maybe we can make this a more regular. On the nights I can't be at home—"

"And who might this be?" someone asks, appearing suddenly enough for you to jump a little.

You turn your head the smallest fraction to find another man leaning against Spencer's desk, a (seemingly permanent) smirk breaking through the tired, clouded expression everyone here is sporting.

"Uhm—hi—erm..."

You glance over at Spencer, who is, for the most part, paying no attention to the encounter, simply sipping on his soup and gnawing on his bread like he hasn't eaten in weeks.

"I'm Y/N," you manage, in a voice soft enough to bring serial killers to their knees (now there's an idea), wiping your hands on the fabric covering your thighs and sticking one of them out.

The man hums, eyes flicking between yourself and the man seated beside you. "I don't think Spencer's ever mentioned you before."

Your smile falters slightly, but doesn't disappear completely. "I'm his girlfriend," you say, "and I never really expected him to talk about me here. He said he wouldn't, anyway."

"Girlfriend?" he asks, as if it's the craziest thing he's ever heard. "You. Are Spencer's girlfriend? Spencer has a girlfriend?"

That seems to grab the aforementioned mans attention.

"Morgan. Is it really so hard to comprehend," he asks, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close—as close as he can, with the chairs in the way, "that I could find a beautiful woman to love me?"

Ah. Derek Morgan, that explains it.

"You know that's not what I mean," Morgan argues, the smile not leaving his face. "And now, if you don't mind, I'll be around. Telling everyone. That you've got a gorgeous girlfriend, and kept it from us."

Neither of you have a chance to argue before he's gone. You're honestly surprised he didn't ask exactly how long it's been, but you're sure he wouldn't have liked the answer, so you don't push it.

"...this is great soup, by the way. I love you."

You chuckle, red coloring your face. "Thanks. I love you, too, baby."

[yuquinzel]

— nobody’s business.

feat. itoshi sae. a little sensual. 700+ wc. self indulgent :> publicizing your relationship with japan’s star player.

itoshi sae is holding onto your hand, a little more firmly than ever before. teal eyes out ahead on the field in front of you both searching for something you can’t name. you follow his gaze— it’s on the bleachers first, then hastily eyeing every player on the pitch. it’s on the spectators one second, then it’s on the cameras panning and zooming in from every direction.

sae grimaces when one such camera directs at the two of you, pulling you behind and away from the prying eyes of the media eager to catch just a glimpse of japan’s prized player and his partner who he keeps oh so hidden from the world.

he’s never denied being in a relationship. never tried to refute dating allegations with a non-celebrity, never once fazed to address the blurred pictures of him making out with someone in his car, never tried to hide the bruises on his neck that catch the eye of every fan leaving nobody wondering what it really is. he knows what they’ll do once they really know who you are— the paparazzi wouldn’t fucking leave you alone, following you everywhere. magazines would be willing to kill to get just one word from you and twist it to their likings. sae’s discreet with his words though, never gives them something to work with.

it was not until you addressed it to him yourself. just another article surfacing all around social media. something that had left a bitter taste on your tongue. ‘ itoshi sae and his supposed girlfriend ! ’ — it’s a picture of sae with a model you don’t know the name of, attending an event you weren’t invited to. he looks clearly unimpressed. but it helps little when every single comment under the article is how of well the two look together.

how well itoshi sae looks with someone who’s not you.

“you’ve already denied the rumours, so then why...” you’d said, avoiding his gaze for reasons you can’t pinpoint. “they always make up shit to write when their lukewarm ass doesn’t have real shit to sell.” he’d answered, “don’t think much about it. they’ll forget about it soon.”

when you didn’t say anything back, sae had known what he was to do. he’d known what it was you were asking of him with your silence. and for you, he was more than willing.

he’s sure a few cameras would��ve captured him with you by now, your face clear and beautiful for everyone to see and engrave on their papers and headlines. they’ll adorn you with pretty words and pretty adjectives, and he’ll have to share you with the eyes of the world now. something about it leaves a bitter flavor on his tongue, so he kisses you instead to taste the sweetness of your lips.

“don’t take your eyes off me,” he rasps between the kisses, one hand coming to cradle your jaw while the other hooks around your waist. “look at only me.”

“only you.” you say and sae breathes you in. he leans down closer, lips moving against yours more desperately than ever. he’s pleased with your answer. phantom touches of his hands slithering under your shirt and tracing the skin of your abdomen.

you forget about the match about to start in a mere minutes, about the cameras still desperate to get one glimpse of this very scene, and if you do remember that his teammates would march out any second now— sae makes you forget about everyone else when he tugs on your bottom lip lightly, “afraid? ” he challenges you with a long, languid glide of his tongue, “of what? I’m the only thing on your mind. ”

later when the game ends with the final pass from sae leading to a goal, the camera pans to you sitting in the vip section and cheering for sae and his team. another pans to sae when he notices you on the screen. sae ignores the roars of the crowd, ignores his teammates gathering around him, screaming for their win. he looks at you, waiting intently. you know what he’s asking of you — did you watch? he shifts forward ever so slightly — was i good?

you’re smiling as you mouth a clear I’m so proud of you — and only then does sae feels like he’s won.

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

why am I posting this it's a year old 🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️

[slytherinboysvip]

Imagine best friend Mattheo being absolutely obsessed with his innocent little Hufflepuff bsf but she just can’t tell. Everyone else knows, and it is quite obvious, but she just can’t think someone like him would want someone like her. But when she jokingly says she’s gonna get Cedric to take her virginity he decides it’s time he came clean.

Possibly with some soft smut if you are comfortable with it of course

bsf mattheo riddle x hufflepuff reader

hopefully this matches your request <3 i’ll most likely make a part 2 for this because.. you’ll see ;) 3.5k words

you lived a rather simple uncomplicated life, attending hogwarts as a hufflepuff with no interest in anyone’s drama. though you kept to yourself most times you tried to be nice to all your peers maintaining your classic hufflepuff demeanor, despite this there was one thing that was different about you.

you see, you didn’t see or understand why people don’t like other houses just because of “house rivalry” especially the students who weren’t even participating in any sports or point winning. and with this over your years though you had few friends you had one best friend who at first seemed rather impossible to be friends with.. mattheo riddle.

when you two met you were a fourth year and him a fifth, coincidentally you were going on to a few friends about your annoyance with people automatically assuming the worst of slytherin even though you yourself weren’t in their house or nearly like one. mattheo overheard this heated- adorable voice coming from behind him and he walked towards you carefully.

he sat down in front of you beside your friend as she gawked faces towards you at his presence. “you don’t think we’re too mean, huh?” he questioned small laugh leaving his lips. “i just think that some people are misunderstood and just because some wizards turned out bad doesn’t mean all of them in your house are” you looked at him answering his question with ease

he smirked in amusement and leaned a little closer to you “hm, hufflepuff eh? what year are you puff?” he sat back examining you and you didn’t fail to notice that nickname he slipped in “fourth year but i have an early birthday which is annoying because i could technically be out sooner” you sighed ignoring his staring.

“well, seeing as it’s ravenclaw against gryffindor do you wanna watch the quidditch game with me i know the best view” he stood up and held his hand out for you, you look towards your friends and they’re both nodding their heads for you to go so you did.

from that point on you and mattheo had been best friends, sadly he was in his seventh year and now you in your sixth nothing much had changed in your life. living vicariously through mattheo and his stories about slytherin parties and how you should go to one with him before it’s too late, he’d tell you about his sexual adventures and your jaw would drop everytime.

you yourself also confided in him though with much less interesting things, telling him how you feel unlikeable by guys sometimes because they never try to get or talk to you, or how you feel lonely because you’ve never had a a boyfriend before. hed always help soothe the thoughts away, telling you that it’s only your brain making those things up , “listen y/n, anyone who doesn’t love you is fucking insane”.

𓆙

talking to your friend zarah who’d been there since day one you always told her what you told matt, for the most part. “i just don’t get why nobody is interested in me zar, like am i genuinely that ugly” you plopped onto your bed sighing dramatically. “you’re not ugly and if you think no guys want you you’re blind i know one in particular that really, really wants you” she giggled.

you looked at her with a confused expression “i must be missing something because i have no idea who you’re talking about” you awaited her response and she just rolled her eyes and sighed “girl your practically boyfriend of a best friend you do everything with” she gave you a duh look and you just laughed. you genuinely couldn’t believe she’d even think he’d like you especially with all the girls he’d been with, “you’re hilarious, we both know he doesn’t want me he wants all the girls he tells me about” you started to compose yourself but zarah’s expression didn’t change.

“you literally must be blind y/n do you need glasses? or should i say puff? let’s talk about how that man hasn’t stopped calling you that pet name since you’ve met.. he’s in love” she rolled her eyes raising her hands in the air. “i still don’t think he wants me so there’s no convincing me” you shrugged her off and she groaned getting up and leaving your shared dorm.

𓆙

“puff you gotta come to this party, slytherin won agains gryffindor i just know this is gonna be the party you want to go to pleaseee” mattheo put his hands on your shoulders shaking you “fiinee” you attempted to answer between shakes before he let you go “if i would’ve known it was that easy i would’ve done that years ago” he rolled his eyes.

“anyways it’s tonight at like 8 so i’ll just get you from your dorm at like 7 do you think they’ll let me in? actually what’s the password?” he didn’t give you time to finish any of your sentences before you just gave him the password “butterscotch” you whispered, in response mattheo laughed “fucking butterscotch merlin that’s hilarious” you looked up at him and rolled your eyes walking away.

“i’ll see you at 7 puff” he yelled across the hall and you just gave a thumbs up and continued walking. you honestly were quite nervous seeing as you’ve never necessarily been to a party before, you’ve made small appearances at hufflepuff parties but you’ve heard they don’t even compare to slytherin.

making your way into your dorm you spot zarah and you pull her up from the common room couch “i finally said yes to a party need help now” you quickly mumbled and she quickened her pace “when does it start girl i need the info right this second come on you’re talking too long for me” she rushed and you blurted it all out “8pm he’s getting me at 7 he has the password he will be at the dorm” closing the door behind you two you both stopped to catch your breath

“sooo is it a dateee” she shimmied her arm on you winking “i already told you he doesn’t like me!!” you replied to her relentlessness. “ugh whatever we need to get you ready girl it’s already six” she pushed you onto your shared vanity chair and pulled out all of your makeup and a few things of hers, “creative control?” she asked smirking at you “mm fine but not too much” you agreed “we’ll see” she giggled.

after around 30 minutes she finished your makeup and she showed you the finished product, looking at yourself in the mirror you thought how you never would’ve put on red lipstick yet you feel really good in it. she gave you a small smokey eye and a small winged liner and you felt you looked more aggressive then you were, but you kinda loved it.

“it’s so much but so pretty” you admired yourself and the makeup she put on you slowly getting used to the feeling of fake eyelashes on your eyes. “i’m so glad you love it, but we need to find an outfit like three hours ago” she joked and rushed to your closets “i actually have the perfect dress in mind if you’re feeling the want to rep slytherin green” she raised her eyebrows up at you in a suggestive matter “sure why not” you shrugged

she handed you a velvet body con forest green dress that you were sure was going to be extremely short and you mean in every place. she held it up onto you “this will be perfect. get it on come on” she rushed you into the bathroom and you began putting it on “this is sooo tight” you called out as you struggled “oh i forgot it was a corset back wait i need to help you can i come in” she yelled through the door

“yeah come on i need this thing one me already” you struggled more as she walked in and immediately began to help you loosening the strings of the dress and pulling it down onto you “there we go now suck in like your life depends on it” she said half jokingly and began retightening the corset back. with every pull it felt like your chest was spilling out more and more and your ribs were shrinking “okay merlin that’s enough before i can’t breathe” you huffed and she stopped tying it off in a bow

“stop you look so hot y/n i bet matt will be drooling” she teased and you just rolled your eyes “what do we do with my hair” you looked at her with horror as you only had ten minutes before he should arrive. you quickly began curling your hair not really caring if it was messy just giving it some body and just as you were spraying perfume on there was a knock on your door.

zarah looked at you and whispered “answer it go go now” she pointed to the door like she was afraid to touch it herself and you walked over opening it to see mattheo in an all black button down with the top few buttons undone and black dress looking pants yet somehow he didn’t look overdressed. he didn’t say anything for a minute he was just staring at you looking up and down in awe “holy fuck y/n who did your makeup you look woah” he put his finger on your chin moving your head around examining your makeup

“zarah isn’t it pretty” you smiled and he removed his hand and replied “yeah you are, now let’s go” he grabbed your hand and you looked behind you waving bye to zarah “he’s so in love with you” she whispered before the door slammed closed.

𓆙

once you got the the party you noticed there were already many slytherins already pregaming and mattheo brought you two to them, “let’s get some alcohol in you little puff” he winked and poured you a shot of who knows what, you smelled the foul drink and it made your nose burn “come on do ittt” he cheered on and you held your nose throwing the shot back gagging at the taste. “how do people enjoy that” you made a face at him “like this” he replied taking two shots himself, “now catch up” he winked pouring you yet another

“if i didn’t know any better id say you’re trying to get me drunk matt” you laughed and he looked at you amused “obviously that’s what im trying to do it’s a party” he put the shot glass to your lips and you parted them taking the burning substance down your throat, “eugh that didn’t get any better the second time” you shook your head in disgust. “hm, let me make you an actual drink” he grabbed a clear liquor and a red juice mixing them together adding more alcohol than your past two shots and handed it to you

“matt this smells foul” you looked up at him, “just try it trust me the slytherins have the masking drink down” he winked and you reluctantly took a sip, and to your surprise all you tasted was juice. after taking another few sips you quick began drinking it and mattheo pulled the cup from your lips “slow down there this shits dangerous you’ll get so drunk you won’t be able to walk straight” he chuckled. “it’s not my fault they made it taste like juice” you shrugged still sipping.

“hey mattheo have your little hufflepuff take some shots with us” enzo threw his arm around your shoulders and mattheo pushed them off almost immediately “no she doesn’t need any shots” he spoke “you didn’t even ask me” you protested, granted you didn’t necessarily want to take any shots you just didn’t like being talked for. “oo are you sure you’re not slytherin you got an attitude” enzo laughed handing you a shot and you looked at mattheo who rolled his eyes as you took the shot.

throwing the shot back the burning sensation took over your throat and you could feel it rushing down your throat. you coughed a bit and chugged your drink for comfort “puff you’re going to get shitfaced slow down” matt fully took your cup this time and you were already feeling it. giggling looking up at him “okay now who was going to tell me party’s are fun” you continued giggling.

the music started playing and the slytherin common room was now getting more and more packed. you saw fifth year students and up in here, even a few ravenclaw and hufflepuffs your recognized. to your surprise in the corner of the party you spotted cedric diggory talking to a group of girls holding a drink.

pansy noticed your head being stuck in a certain direction and followed your eyes “oh em gee, someone’s got their eyes on a certain hufflepuff” she winked shoving her shoulder at your “shhhhh he’s just nice to look at” you giggled at her and she giggled along “you two would be soo cute” she added dragging you back to the drinks

“let’s take some shots!” she exclaimed handing you two , you took them smiling and shot them back with her, a woo leaving her mouth. “here chaser, chaser!” she shouted handing you another drink this time what looked like a lot of the punch, downing it all she laughed “girl we’re gonna be gone”. looking around you were seeing doubles of everything but didn’t want the night to already end.

“so, are you a virgin?” pansy shouted over the music making your already alcohol flushed face even redder “pansy!! you can’t just ask that!!” you shouted back flustered at the intrusive question, “i’m only curious girl” she giggled and gave you begging eyes “come onnnn” she shook you till you gave in “fine yes i am but don’t tell anyone!” you replied back as lowly as you could over the music

“who would you lose it to?” she giggled “i lost mine to blaise hehe sshhhh” she winked, considering she just told you her secret you felt obligated and just looked around “i mean i guess cedric” you giggled as she pointed at him after your response. before she could say anything else you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist and drag you off. trying to kick your way out was useless and they brought you to an empty dorm.

through all of this you couldn’t tell who it was kicking and screaming for them to let you go till you heard mattheos voice “puff calm down it’s just me” he sighed putting you down on what you now assumed was his bed “why did you bring me in here that was so scary” you huffed trying to gain your composure. “diggory?” he scoffed not answering your question.

you looked at him confused as to what he was on about “what do you mean? what about cedric” you cocked your head to the side in confusion “you lost your virginity to him??” he questioned stepping closer to you looking rather.. pissed. you just laughed in response “me? lose my virginity to cedric?.. you’re funny” yeah you fantasized about it but it certainly wouldn’t happen.

“what were you talking to pansy about then??” he looked at you unconvinced, “she asked if i lost it and i said no, but id let him take it.-“ you shrugged “besides you know i tell you everything matt i’ve never even had a boyfriend let alone a guy be interested in my virginity” you sighed laying back onto the bed now feeling upset.

you heard mattheo sigh and you picked your head up to look at him, his eyes stared back at you in silence before breaking it “believe me there’s a lot of guys who want to get in your pants” he rubbed his fists and you gave him a confused expression yet again “what are you on about matt?” you were getting sober just from all of this extra mystery.

he walked over to the bed sitting beside you, “listen when we met you were just.. blooming completely and i would be lying if i didn’t say i first went up to you because of your looks.. well overtime you know we became friends and i noticed other guys staring in ways they shouldn’t have been so i had to teach them a lesson.” he looked at you and yo didn’t know how to respond to something like that.

“what exactly are you saying matt?” you didnt understand what he was poking at, did matt mean to say he basically likes you? were you reading too much into this? “look y/n, no one else in this school fucking deserves you. hell i don’t deserve you but i know i can treat you how you need. don’t ask me what took so long to confess to you y/n, but do you feel even remotely the same?” he let it all out quick and fast, and your mouth dropped.

“you want.. me?” you looked at him in disbelief and he just smiled “that’s what that whole speech was about, yeah” he chuckled nervously awaiting your reply “why?” you sighed still slightly unconvinced “have you fucking seen yourself puff? you’re so undeniably gorgeous, i don’t know how i hold myself back from you everyday” he leaned in closer to you making this all seem more real. without thinking you allowed yourself to lean into him, faces and lips meeting for the most magical first kiss you could’ve ever imagined.

“you’re so fucking beautiful y/n” he grabbed your face pulling you closer to him till you straddled over his lap sitting down continuing the now makeout. “this is so much better than.. imagined” you huffed through the kisses. you could already feel mattheos member growing beneath you and you never thought you’d be the one experiencing this from your best friend.

you’d be lying if you didn’t admit to a fantasy or two about him in the past but this was already one thousand times better than ever imagined. mattheos lips kissed their way down your neck leaving small marks tiny moans leaving your mouth, “i need to hear more of that, y/n, let me eat you out.. please i need a taste” he continued his kisses along your neck bringing them back to your lips “i’ve never- mm yes” you replied as his fingers began making circles over your underwear.

“you sound so good fuck” he groaned pulling you off of him and getting off the bed, “you’re sure of this?” he questioned one last time and you just nodded impatiently awaiting his next move. next thing you knew he was yanking you to the edge of his bed and slowly removing your pants and underwear looking up at you from below. “holy fuck puff.. you’re fucking soaking” he breathed out over your pussy sending tingles down your spine.

without warning his mouth met your untouched area and you felt things never imaginable. his tongue made its way around your bulging clit, flicking it up and down and making his way to your entrance sucking and licking “you taste so good holy fuck” he huffed going right back in not even looking up at you, “can i put two fingers” he spoke from your pussy and you couldn’t even properly answer “mm y-yes” you replied between your moans.

you felt his slender fingers teasing your entrance and he slowly began inching one in and out teasingly, “mattheo-“ you huffed and he chuckled shoving both fingers in, loud moan escaping your mouth and this new feeling. he did a few different moments trying to figure out what makes you moan the most, soon his tongue was sucking expertly on your clit as his fingers twisters and curled inside of you.

“matt i want to.. try” you moaned at this pleasure wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you now. “mm but you’re not ready yet puff” he continued devouring your pussy simply divulging in it as if he’d never eaten anything before. his pace on everything quickened and you were already near your own orgasm, “if you don’t s-stop i’m gonna cum” you moaned loudly trying to control yourself.

“let go for me sweetheart” he sucked harder on your clit, the nickname and action forcing your orgasm to flood over you harder than you’ve ever been able to make yourself experience. your body was shaking and you couldn’t hold your reactions back, mattheo slowly licked your gushing area clean before standing up “mm now i think you’ll be ready soon” he smirked leaning down over you, grabbing your chin and giving you a kiss.

[elixrr]

“could you be seen with me and still act proud?”

➢ Jing Yuan, Argenti, Aventurine, Dan Heng, Blade, Xiao, Childe, Wanderer, Zhongli

➢ Star Rail / Genshin x [GN] Reader

➥ (their answer + reaction to this question)

➥ (comfort / fluff)

✧ - JING YUAN

“Why, of course. I would hold your hand up for the whole of the Xianzhou to see.”

This was pretty expected of the sly general. However, what was unexpected was the way he took you in his arms and lifted you up—bridal style. You begged him to put you down as he opened the doors of his and your room, now making his way outside to remind the whole Xianzhou that you're his and he's yours.

✧ - ARGENTI

“Dearest love—of course, I would be so proud to have the chance to take the hand of mortal beauty itself, and, if it were chivalrous, I would boast about your beauty everywhere I go.”

Ever so poetic, Argenti pulls your heart strings again with his creative (yet cheesy) lines. He loves you; that's a fact that nobody can deny, and he believes that you were sent down by Idrila herself with how attractive you are. Without a hesitant thought, he backs away and offers you his hand—will you accept the offer in which he takes you from place to place, hand in hand, to show the whole world that your his love?

✧ - AVENTURINE

“You wanna take a bet? Here, I'll take you out to dinner if you guess my answer correctly—get it wrong, and I decide on what I'll do with you.”

With a wink and a smile turning into a smirk, it's always hard to guess what Aventurine is thinking, but with the clock ticking, you hardly get time to really think, and so you curiously answer with “no.” A smile grows on his face, and he leans in close, holding your arms. He whispers in your ear, “I guess that means you have to do what I tell you tonight.”

✧ - DAN HENG

“Of course. I do... I do love you, after all.”

His sentences are kept short and simple (with a little bit of blush), just like how they always are. Now, unlike most people on this list, he isn't bringing you outside to let the world know that you're dating, but he would feel and does absolutely feel proud to have you as his love. He reassures you that he would never feel embarrassed or feel the need to hide his love for you, no matter the crowd he's surrounded by.

✧ - BLADE

“Yes. Nobody's taking you, and nobody's taking me. Everyone had better know that you're mine, and the same goes for me.”

His response was rather threatening, but that's typical with Blade. His words are as sharp as his sword, but they're also as meaningful as sharp; his intent is nowhere near ill towards you, and he only means that he's dedicated himself to you already, and it's a dedication that he would never feel embarrassed or guilty for. Now, take his hand—he'll promise the world that you're his tonight.

✧ - XIAO

“Yes. Why wouldn't I be?”

In Adeptus Xiao language, he means, “yes, of course I would. Archons, holding your hand is a blessing itself.” And, though he doesn't admit it, he still feels it. You are his first and only love in several millennia. You, of every person to ever set foot in Liyue, managed to capture his heart when nobody else could. Xiao loves you, and he feels that he will forever, so he prays you'd banish him if he ever hurts you or hides his love away for something trivial because that means the karma got to him and that he's gone mad.

✧ - CHILDE

“Of course, babe! You know what? Let's go on a date right now— everything's on me!”

And that's simply Childe. Without a word, he disappears and reappears with your favorite outfit in hand, and has you put it on (in private as he waits outside the bedroom door), and when you're done, he's suddenly dressed nicely with roses in hand, and he takes you out on a date. How? No clue, but know that he's letting the whole region know that you're his right here and right now.

✧ - WANDERER

“Huh? That's a stupid question. Why are you asking me, anyway?”

Yes. He means yes in every way possible. His sharp tongue speaks the opposite, but Wanderer truly means that he would show you off to the world if he had to. If he has to, mainly because he finds the concept of love in its entirety as stupid, but he also loves you too much to let you leave him, let alone have someone else think that you're some vacant partner just waiting to be taken. Now, hold both of his hands. He'll glide you above Sumeru City and show everyone there that you're his if you're still thinking about the question.

✧ - ZHONGLI

“Well, of course. Would you like to take a walk around the harbor for me to prove that?”

Zhongli senses your insecurity, and he wishes to alleviate your worries, so he takes you to a popular teahouse by a bridge. It's not that grand or special, but he keeps you close to him as you both sip away at your tea and embrace the company of one another.

yes, this was a heathers reference.

[theonottsbxtch]

I LOVED YOU FIRST | FC43

an: guys i’m so sorry for the atrocities i’m about to cause by posting this, i’m especially tagging @obxstiles to make sure they don’t miss it and that they cry muahaha there MAY be a part two to this

summary: for as long as she’s remembered she’s loved franco, wether those feelings were ever reciprocated she doesn’t know.

wc: 4.4k

She remembered the sound of wheels against gravel. Even as a kid, Franco was fast—kicking up dust and stones as he went, all edges and adrenaline. They grew up on the same street, a road that was more dust than pavement, cutting through a small town nobody had ever heard of, deep in the countryside of Argentina. Back then, he raced down that road on a beat-up go-kart that rattled and threatened to fall apart with every turn. But he didn’t care. Even at eight years old, Franco could talk of nothing but cars and speed and the shimmering, impossible promise of a life far from here.

She was the one who stood at the end of the road, cheering him on as he came barreling toward her, heart in her throat every time he cut it too close. She told herself that’s just what friends did—waited around to see the other one make it back in one piece. But there was more to it, even then. She’d never told him, of course. Franco had always been too focused on the next race, the next finish line, to notice much about her that wasn’t familiar. It was easier that way. They were friends. That was enough.

Years passed, and with them, his childhood kart became a racing simulator, then an actual car, then a series of wins that only proved what she’d always known—that Franco was going somewhere.

Last year, his parents sold their house so he could go further, could reach another level she couldn’t quite see. He moved in with her and her family when he wasn’t racing, and for a few months, it was as if they were kids again, laughing late at night, plotting his future as he spilled out every dream he’d ever had. That was the year she started imagining he might finally see her the way she saw him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Franco saw everything she wasn’t: the girl from another world, polished and magnetic, with a face and laugh that gleamed like the trophies he’d already started to collect. She caught him, snared him in a way that didn’t even seem real.

It was this girl—her name slipped off his tongue so easily when he let it—who went to the big events with him, who stood beside him when photographers crowded around after his races, a reminder that he’d already begun to belong somewhere else. She wanted to hate her, this stranger who was everything she wasn’t, but what good would it do?

It was easy to tell herself she was Franco’s friend. His best friend. The one who’d been there since the beginning, the one who stayed up with him on those late nights when all his dreams felt heavy enough to drown him. She’d learned to wear it like armour—the friend, the constant, the steady hand on his shoulder when his voice cracked and his confidence faltered.

No one else knew the small things about him, the things that made him human. Like how he had a superstition about not putting on his helmet until the very last second before a race. Or that his favorite thing in the world was the sound of tires on wet pavement, a soft hiss of rain and speed. Or that he used to dream of buying back the house his parents sold and giving them something better.

The nights she couldn’t sleep, she’d replay those memories to herself, like scenes from a film she’d seen too many times. They were pieces of a person she’d built up in her mind so completely, so painstakingly, that she sometimes forgot he wasn’t hers. Not really.

Now, Franco was leaving again, but this time it was different. The call had come last night, and she’d been there when he answered it, watching the way his face shifted, lit up with something she hadn’t seen since they were kids. He’d been invited to join a Formula 1 team—a chance to race against the best, a dream finally realised.

And she’d been the first person he told. “I’m in,” Franco had whispered to her after he hung up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “I’m actually in.”

He’d pulled her into a hug, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe this moment was for her too—that she was a part of the dream. But when he finally let go, she could already feel him slipping away, his mind racing miles ahead, far beyond anything she could reach.

And now here they were, standing on the same dusty road they’d grown up on, only this time the road was empty. She could almost see his silhouette against the horizon, an outline that belonged to no one, not even her.

“So… this is it, huh?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. She knew this was her job now: to be strong, supportive, even as she felt her chest tightening with everything she’d left unsaid.

Franco glanced over at her and smiled, that careless, easy grin she’d fallen in love with a thousand times. “Yeah. This is it.”

There was a part of her that wanted to say something, to tell him what it felt like to lose him, to have spent all these years beside him only to watch him walk away. But she didn’t, couldn’t. Because he needed her to be his friend, his rock. And that’s exactly what she would be, until the moment he disappeared from sight.

“You’ll be amazing out there,” she said softly, swallowing hard against the ache in her throat.

“Thanks,” Franco replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon, to whatever was waiting for him. He didn’t see her watching him, didn’t notice the way she tried to memorise every detail of his face, the way she gripped the fabric of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Because that’s what she was: the person who stayed behind, the person who would cheer for him no matter how far he went, even if it took him far beyond her reach.

His first race was in Monza.

And Franco had made sure she’d be there.

The roar of engines echoed across Monza, the air thick with the metallic scent of fuel and adrenaline. She stood just outside the paddock, watching the mechanics scurry between cars, drivers in their fireproof suits weaving through a sea of engineers and cameras. It was Franco’s first Formula 1 race, the one he’d been chasing since the days they’d spent on that dusty street back home. He’d called her a week ago, saying he’d arranged for her ticket, that she had to be there, that it wouldn’t feel right without her.

She glanced down at her pass, fumbling with it between her fingers, her eyes darting over the crowds, wondering if she’d see him. But instead, she saw her—Franco’s girlfriend, standing just a few paces away, a beacon in the busy paddock with her polished, perfect smile.

She thought about turning around, slipping into the crowd where she could cheer Franco on from a distance, as she’d always done. But then Franco’s girlfriend caught her eye, waved her over with an easy, welcoming smile, and suddenly it was too late.

“Hi! You’re Franco’s best friend, no?” she said brightly, as if she’d been waiting for this meeting. “Franco’s told me all about you.”

She managed a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady but her heart churning. This girl looked so effortlessly perfect—too perfect, really. She wanted to find something in her to resent, a crack, a flaw, some hint that would make her presence easier to bear. But the girl’s smile was warm, even gentle, and there wasn’t a hint of cruelty behind her eyes.

“You know,” she continued, turning to look at the track where the cars were being readied. “Franco always talks about how you’ve been there from the start. He says he wouldn’t be here without you.”

It was a sentiment she’d waited years to hear, but hearing it now, coming from someone else, made it feel empty, hollow. She nodded politely. “He’s worked so hard for this. I just… wanted to support him however I could.”

The girl looked at her, a spark of admiration in her eyes. “That’s really special. I think it means a lot to him, having someone who’s known him for so long.” She hesitated, her fingers twisting a ring on her hand. “I think he’s planning to introduce me to his family soon.”

A prickle of something sharp and painful settled in her chest. She managed to keep her face composed, even as the words sank in. “That’s great,” she said, injecting her voice with encouragement. “That sounds really important to him.”

The girl smiled, her gaze drifting as if she could see the future taking shape right in front of her. “Yeah… he said he wanted to wait until we’d been together for a year. He’s so thoughtful like that, you know? He really wants things to be right before introducing me to his family.” She looked at her, a touch of gratitude in her expression. “I think he got that from you—from seeing how much his family means to you.”

It was a kind thing to say, too kind. She wanted to hate her for it, but she couldn’t. There was nothing false about the way this girl looked at her, no jealousy or possessiveness. She was just… nice. The kind of nice that made her ache with the unfairness of it all, because it made it impossible to hate her, even though she desperately wanted to.

“Well, his family will love you,” she said, meaning it even as the words felt like they were tearing something fragile inside her. “He deserves to be happy.”

The girl gave her a soft, almost sympathetic smile, a smile that made her wonder if maybe she already knew—if she could see right through her, if she understood the look in her eyes, the one she tried so hard to hide.

As the engines started up in the distance, the girl reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “For being there for him, for being his friend. I can tell he’s lucky to have you in his life.”

She returned the smile, feeling a heaviness settle deep within her. Franco was lucky, that was true—but not in the way she’d once dreamed he might be. He had everything now: the career, the future, the love of a woman who deserved him in ways she never could.

And as the cars roared to life on the track, she stood there beside his girlfriend, feeling like a silent ghost on the edges of his new world. She would cheer for him, just as she always had, but now she knew exactly where she stood—at a distance, a quiet fixture in his past, cheering him on from the shadows as he sped toward a future that had no place for her.

The race had ended hours ago, and the hotel was hushed, the lights dimmed in the halls. She was alone in her room, her suitcase half-packed, clothes folded neatly on the bed. She’d changed her flight back to Argentina; she would be gone by morning.

The evening had been a whirlwind—Franco finishing in P12 on his debut race, his crew and his girlfriend embracing him, his face beaming in a way she’d only ever dreamed of seeing up close. She’d stood in the background, clapping politely, just another face in the crowd, happy for him but feeling her heart splinter with each cheer.

A quiet knock broke her thoughts. She looked up, heart catching in her throat. Franco was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside, his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping you’d still be up.”

“Yeah, just… packing,” she murmured, glancing at the clothes on her bed. “I’ve got an early flight back.”

He frowned, like he hadn’t expected her to be leaving so soon. “I thought you’d stay a bit longer,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “It meant a lot to me that you were here, you know. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”

She swallowed, trying to muster up a smile. “I’m proud of you, Fran. Really. You deserve all of this.”

He gave a modest shrug, his usual humility shining through. “It’s crazy, right? Like, it still doesn’t feel real.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next, her hands clenching as she watched him, the words fighting to break free. But before she could speak, he went on, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Oh—and I wanted to tell you. Over the summer break, I’m planning to bring my girlfriend—” he gestured to the wall, where his girlfriend was probably just sitting in their shared room—“back to Argentina. She’s going to meet my family. I think they’ll love her.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt herself unraveling, her heart breaking open. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Why her?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Franco blinked, looking at her, startled. “What do you mean?”

“Why her, Franco?” She repeated, her voice trembling, louder this time. “Why not me? What is it about me that you don’t find appealing? Am I too loud? Too… different? Do I not fit into your world somehow?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her words finally spilling out. “What is it about me that you don’t love, that you love about her?”

For a moment, he just stared, taken aback, as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. But his eyes were filled with confusion, like he was trying to make sense of what she was saying.

“Wait—” he started, his voice halting, uncertain. “I… I didn’t know you felt—”

She cut him off, her voice fierce, raw. “I loved you first, Franco.”

He went silent, the words settling between them like stones in water, sinking deeper and deeper.

“What?” he whispered, his voice almost as quiet as hers had been.

“I loved you first,” she repeated, her voice shaking. She could feel the tears gathering, but she didn’t want to cry, not now, not here. “Since we were kids, since you were that crazy kid racing down dirt roads, I loved you. I’ve been there every step, every race, every victory, every failure. I was the one who held your dreams when they felt too heavy to carry. I loved you first.”

She watched him, waiting, hoping for some sign of understanding, some glimmer of the love she’d imagined so many times. But his eyes were wide with shock, his face torn between pity and discomfort.

He shook his head slowly, the words seeming to catch in his throat before he finally managed to say them. “But… I love her.”

The words were a knife, sharp and relentless, cutting through the last fragments of hope she’d held on to.

She let out a hollow, broken laugh, her vision blurring as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.” She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling with a rawness she couldn’t contain. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of years pressing down between them. She could see the guilt etched into his expression, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something to make it better. But there was nothing he could say—nothing that could change the reality that he had chosen someone else, someone who wasn’t her.

“I never meant to… I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but she stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively.

“It’s fine,” she said, forcing the words out, feeling them scrape against her throat. “I… I just needed you to know. I needed you to know that I was here, that I’ve always been here. But now…” She trailed off, her voice breaking, the words she’d held for so long finally running dry.

She looked at him one last time, memorising the shape of his face, the boy she had loved and lost long before he ever realised. Then sat back down on the floor and continued packing, folding each piece of clothing and putting it away in silence, each one a silent goodbye.

When she noticed he still hadn’t left, that he was just watching him, she looked up at him. “I hope she makes you happy, Franco,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Really. I hope she gives you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

She looked back down not wanting to catch Franco’s look of pity and closed her suitcase as he walked out of her room.

Walking out of her life for what felt like forever.

It was the peak of summer, the air heavy with heat and the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked earth drifting through the open kitchen window. She was sitting at the table, picking absently at a bowl of sliced fruit, half-listening as her mother hummed while tidying up, when her mother paused and gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I almost forgot to mention,” her mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, “Franco’s coming back to town soon. Said he’ll be here next week with his girlfriend, so they can meet his family.”

She looked down, letting the words sink in, feeling a familiar tightness bloom in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to Franco in weeks. Not since that night in Monza. Not since she’d finally let herself say all the things she’d bottled up for years, only to walk away feeling like she’d left a part of herself behind.

“Oh,” she murmured, keeping her tone as light as she could. “That’s… that’s good. His parents will be thrilled to meet her.”

Her mother looked at her carefully, her gaze soft but probing, as if she could sense the ache that lingered beneath her daughter’s casual words. “I thought maybe you’d be excited too,” her mother ventured, her voice gentle. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”

She forced a small smile, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her napkin. “Actually, I was thinking about going to Buenos Aires for a bit. Just a week or two with Tía Blanca. I’ve been meaning to go see her.”

Her mother tilted her head, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. “You can’t keep running from this, mi amor,” she said, her voice tender but firm.

Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She knew her mother was right; every time she thought about seeing Franco, the old wound seemed to ache again, still raw, still fresh, no matter how many miles or weeks lay between them. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not when the sight of him with someone else would only reopen everything she’d been trying so hard to let go of.

“I know I can’t keep running,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. “But I can now. And I can cope with that.”

Her mother sighed softly, reaching out to place a warm hand over hers. “Mi amor, one day, you’re going to have to stop protecting yourself from the things that hurt you. It’s the only way to truly move forward.”

She nodded, her throat tight, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. She knew her mother was right. But all she could think of was that moment in Monza, the echo of Franco’s words—But I love her. Words that still stung like salt on an open wound, even now.

“Maybe one day,” she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. But for now, Buenos Aires felt like the safest place to be—far from the memories, far from the impossible hope she still carried in her heart.

Her mother squeezed her hand gently before letting go, her silence filled with understanding. “Then go,” she said, with a small, knowing smile. “But you’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

And as she sat there, her heart heavy with everything she couldn’t say, she only hoped her mother was right.

A few days later, everything was sorted and she was ready to go to her aunt’s place.

She swung her bag over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the house, the warm morning sun casting long shadows across the familiar dirt road. She was just two steps away from the car when she spotted it—Franco’s car, parked at the edge of the drive.

Her heart lurched, her mind scrambling, and she muttered under her breath, “No, no, no… please, not now.” She moved quickly toward her own car, fumbling for her keys as if speed alone could make her invisible. But before she could open the door, she heard his voice behind her.

“Oye, there you are!” he called, a wide, relieved smile on his face as he jogged over, his voice bright with the kind of joy she hadn’t heard from him in years. “I was hoping I’d run into you before you left. It’s been too long.”

She barely managed to keep her face neutral, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to get on the road. Don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” she said, opening the boot to toss her bag inside. She avoided looking at him, focusing on the small tasks—closing the boot, brushing off her hands, reaching for the door.

He took a step closer, his hand resting on the car door as if to keep her from leaving. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his tone softening. “You… you didn’t answer my calls after Monza. I didn’t know if… I just wanted to see you.”

She swallowed hard, glancing away as she forced herself to stay calm, the last words she wanted to hear sitting heavy between them. “That’s great, Franco,” she said, barely meeting his gaze, her words quick and mechanical. “But I really should get going.”

“Wait—” He looked at her, his expression slipping from surprise to concern. “Can we talk? Please?”

But she was already climbing into the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. She couldn’t bear to stay, couldn’t bear to let him see her break again. “Take care, Franco,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed the door.

Before he could say another word, she pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as she drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw him standing in the drive, watching her go, his face a mix of confusion and something close to sadness. She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she focused on the road ahead.

But the further she drove, the harder it became to ignore the weight of all the memories tied to each familiar street and turn. Every signpost, every curve of the road reminded her of him—their childhood spent racing bikes and kicking up dust, lazy afternoons wandering these streets, dreaming of the future he was now living.

Tears blurred her vision as she drove, the memories rushing in like floodwaters, filling her mind with images she’d tried so hard to push aside: Franco at fourteen, laughing as he beat her in yet another race down the hill; Franco, younger still, sharing a quiet moment in the field just beyond town, his eyes bright with the dreams they’d both carried.

She wiped at her eyes, her heart aching as each memory pulled her further into the past, a past where they’d been inseparable, a past where she hadn’t yet realised what loving him truly meant. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his presence beside her, as if he were still the boy she’d known, before life had pulled them down different paths.

By the time she reached her aunt’s building in Buenos Aires, the weight of the drive had started to lift, the city’s pulse a welcome distraction from the quiet countryside. She parked and took a moment to gather herself, feeling the ache from earlier settle into something softer, something that no longer felt as urgent or raw.

Just as she opened the car door, a familiar voice called out.

“¡Mira! Is that really you?”

She looked up, startled, and felt her heart lift slightly. Standing by the curb was Angelo, an old friend from summers in the city. He had the same easy smile, his hair a little longer, his build a little broader, but his presence felt exactly as she remembered—warm and solid.

“Angelo!” She smiled, the weight on her shoulders easing just a little more.

He walked over, giving her a friendly hug before reaching into the car to help with her bag. “Let me help. You’re here for a visit?”

“Just two weeks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced up at the familiar apartment building, a place that held a lifetime of summers, laughter, and memories untouched by the pain she’d left behind.

“Well, then,” he said, grinning as he hefted her bag easily, “we’ve got time to catch up.” His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes, a quiet warmth that made her feel unexpectedly hopeful.

She followed him up the steps, comforted by his familiarity and the steady, unhurried way he moved, like he knew every corner of this building as well as she did. As they reached her aunt’s door, she felt her pulse slow, steadied by his presence.

The door opened before they could knock, her aunt’s familiar face breaking into a radiant smile. “There you are, mi niña!” She hugged her tightly, then turned to Angelo with a knowing smile. “And look who brought you all the way to the door! Angelo, you’re a sweetheart.”

He grinned, shrugging. “Anything for your family, señora.”

They all laughed, and for the first time in months, she felt a genuine ease settle over her, as if she’d left more than just a town behind—she’d left the weight of everything she’d been carrying.

As she glanced between her aunt and Angelo, the ache that had gripped her chest all day faded. The streets of Buenos Aires were bright outside the door, warm and humming with life. She breathed it in, feeling herself begin to let go of everything that had haunted her on that long drive.

Because maybe now that she was here, she could forget Franco.

to be continued…?

[kujiba]

【Go on and Love Me】

୨୧ — ꒰ male!reader | he/his prounouns | Sagau | Genshinimpact

୨୧ — ꒰ Streamer!Reader who gets sidetracked by people's donations/chats making the genshin characters feel jealous

Ft. Xiao, Wanderer, Kinich, Traveler

A/n: inspired by la2yn0va hsr fic

X I A O

(Name) happily smiled at another donation sent to him after recently completing a natlan quest

"Thanks for the 20 bits donation!"

He thanked the chat with a wide smile, the chat which was filled with people commenting every second flooding the entire screen making (Name) shift his focus to answer their questions about himself.

This cute interaction made (Name) feel warm and lovely in the inside, being able to interact with fans who admired him.

You know who wasn't happy? A dark headed male inside a screen wasn't that happy unlike (Name). Why were these people gifting you so low? Most of all why was (Name)'s attention not on him anymore?

He had to pull alot of strings to make his own crit rise up since (Name)'s luck on the Vermilion domain was absolutely dog shit.

(Name) — Hm? My favorite character in genshin?

Xiao — You called?

Xiao unintentionally blurted that out without any thoughts whatsoever, but when he did realize and saw (Name)'s confused face along with the chat going wild.

Without any choice Xiao did his idle animation to hide his face away from you, he used his mask so that Xiao won't face you for a while since he was in a very vulnerable state

(Name) — New mail? Sweet 300 primos!

(Chat) — Fr? I didn't get any new mail from hoyo yet.

(Name) — Well.. Free primos is free primos

If (Name)'s happy then he'll rest easy today. Hopefully no rumors circulate about what happened earlier.. Self aware fanfics are crazy these days.

W A N D E R E R

Wanderer stared at (Name) blankly, he was too busy thanking people with countless of donations to even realize they were still in a boss fight farming material's for upcoming characters.

Wanderer became (Name)'s fan ever since he saw him at that temporary event named 'Unreconciled Stars Event Quest The Crisis Deepens'.

Smug mf since he made (Name) hit hard pity for him. But was kind enough to give you his c1 after 140 wishes

(Chat) — Why don't you change your main (Streamer Name)?

An irk mark appears on Wanderer's face but wasn't that visible on screen.

Is this swine telling (Name) to replace him with someone else? Hard pass. He was already stolen from (Name)'s attention and now these nobody's are trying to persuade him into maining some other weak random than him.

Just so happen that (Name) spotted a chest nearby and happily went over to open it, Wanderer took this opportunity immediately

(Wanderer) — Unnecessary.

(Chat) — Is it just me or is his voice rougher than usual?

Damn right it's rougher since he just wanted to vent his anger out on any enemies on sight

The chat won't know but what he had said was directly targeted at them, if only he could say every insult known to man right now

So (Name), keep your eyes on him only and no one else, then maybe he'll make his attacks stronger if you comply

(Name) — Well to answer your question earlier chat, no I don't think I'll be changing my main anytime soon. Wanderer's pretty fun to play with.

After (Name) finished talking he took a closer look at Wanderer's face, but his eyes swore Wanderer had a tad bit of pink on his cheeks

His eyes must've been starting to break with the amount of streaming his doing

T R A V E L E R

(Name) had just began to prep for his stream of the week and now he was currently adjusting the Traveler's artifacts to try out a new build

You know what's crazy though? His builds are pretty shitty.

He has the absolute worst luck in artifacts plus in leveling up pieces, most of which usually goes to defense or HP%

But he still hits about 800k regularly with the Traveler! How could he do such thing with only 44.6% Crit rate!?

(Chat) — 1 MILLION?? (Name) are you doing hacks?

(Name) — What? No! Guess my Traveler's just really op

The Traveler is a smug motherfucker

Of course the Traveler wouldn't hit such high numbers without using a...slight adjustment to the system

Sure their pieces are pretty bad but they'll accept anything (Name) had given them! How could they just shake off his hard work on griding for their ascension and talents?

Whenever the Traveler sees (Name)'s shocked expression during the massive crit's appearing on his screen they are damn right happy and overjoyed they managed to satisfy their grace!

(Chat) — Your builds are bad af tho lolol

(Chat) — Why main the Traveler? They're a pretty bad character to main, you should go for Nuevillete or Alhaitham.

The Traveler's good mood immediately faded into dust once he saw the chats text

Are those no lifers saying that they're not fit to be (Name)'s vessel? They're the most perfect one!

What could Nuevillete or whatever character have that they don't? Could they switch elements? Don't think so

If they wanted bigger numbers, the Traveler will show them big numbers all right, if you want them to hit 10 million they're gonna make it happen with just one click

(Name) — Thanks for the suggestion chat but I'm going to stick with the Traveler, I'm already wayyy too attached

The Traveler's mood once again took a 360 and smiled softly at what (Name) said to them, their stomachs fluttering with delight

(Name) is attached to them? No other compliment or praise could ever reach what the Traveler was feeling at the very moment

Their grace! Oh their grace... If only they could just grab onto you and drag you here where you rightfully belong

K I N I C H

Kinich is an upcoming playable character but many in the genshin community have fallen head over heels for him

Yet he couldn't careless about them, after all just being near (Name)'s presence even though it's just by the Traveler's vessel already makes him nice and comfortable

(Name) — Day 10 of saving up for Kinich let's goo

(Chat) — Woah already 200 wishes? You're quick man

(Name) — Can't help it lmao, Kinich seems fun to play and he's really pretty!

(Chat) — He seem's boring though

(Chat) — Dude the dialouge is slightly glitching wtf

The dialouge's glitching is caused by Kinich's embarrassment and rage, he was previously just about to talk till he heard (Name) sing praises about him! How could he not accidentally stutter and mess up the dialouge!?

But on the other hand, the hell did that person meant by he was boring? He wasn't even released yet! This caused Kinich to panic mentally if whether or not you'll change your mind about pulling for him

He stared at you from the screen, clenching his fists tighter by the second. Just a small bit more... Just one more step and he'll be released, then he could really be by your side now.

(Name) — Aw man, hold on chat I gotta pause the stream to fix this glitching

(Name) eventually had to exit the game to try and see what the problem was with his device or if it was overheating again

Meanwhile Kinich was still standing there re-adjusting his thoughts about what just happened. His feelings were all a mixed bag at this point, he sighed rubbing his temples slowly

Ajaw eventually came to his side while looking at him weirdly like he had done something wrong

(Ajaw) — Wow.. Just wow

(Kinich) — Shut up...

To rightfully apologized the system eventually sent 10 wishes in (Name)'s game mail which he was confused at first but eh, more wishes for c6 knich!

Once he becomes playable Kinich would definitely spoil (Name) with high numbers and crit's. He would just have to deal with Ajaw's yapping in the meantime..

So don't get distracted over what those 'Chat' people say about him!

A/n: likes and reblogs are appreciated! Have a nice day(ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

[thestarkinternship]

10 Minutes

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)

Summary: Bucky is a little desperate for some alone time during one of Stark's parties, and ten minutes is all he needs.

Word Count: 2.2k (no mention of Y/N)

Warnings: Profanity, drinking, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), slight exhibitionism (bathroom at a party), MINORS DNI!

A/N: I kinda took a break from writing because I had a lot of unfinished fics, but I'm slowly starting to get back into it. And thank you for 300 followers on here! I can't believe there's that many people of you who actually like my writing :)

Masterlist

-

“That’s gotta be what, your sixth drink?” You giggled, watching as Bucky polished off another glass, “don’t you wanna slow it down a little?”

With a smirk, he set the empty crystal on the countertop. “Worried I’ll have too much and do something to embarrass you, sweetheart?”

“You could never embarrass me, James,” you rolled your eyes, “and you also can’t get drunk.”

“S’not gonna stop me from trying,” he grinned, “now come here..”

Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you into his side before you could give an answer. Not that you minded – you didn’t need an excuse to be as close to him as possible. You nestled your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the heavy aftershave that he wore. It was your favourite scent. The musk from it mixed with the spice of the whiskey on his breath as it fanned across your cheeks. It was intoxication in the best way possible, superseding the several glasses of liquor that you’d consumed yourself.

“There is something else, if you think you can handle it.”

In your own little bubble, it was easy to forget that the two of you weren’t alone. Breaking your gaze away from Bucky, you saw one of your teammates making his way over to you with a delicately engraved bottle in his large hand.

“Hi Thor,” you smiled politely, “what is that?”

He held the bottle up proudly. “Asgardian liquor, the finest brewed there. It puts everything here on Midgard to shame.”

“I bet.” You chuckled.

“I’ll take that as a challenge.” Bucky grinned, stepping away from you momentarily to join Thor and some of the others in a round.

You folded your arms across your chest as you shook your head. The super soldier serum might stop his body from reacting to alcohol in the typical way, but it did have a particular effect on Bucky. You couldn’t help but notice how he always seemed to get that little bit more handsy with you. Maybe it was a placebo effect, or maybe that was just an excuse to keep you close to his wandering hands.

Either way, barely twenty minutes had passed before your observation was proven true.

Your shoulder leaned against the back wall as you watched Steve and Tony play pool when Bucky joined you.

“Where’ve you been?” he murmured, “I was looking for you.”

His metal hand drifted up your side, tracing the hem of your shirt and slipping underneath to graze your hip. The metal raised goosebumps on your warm skin, and you shivered further back into his arms.

“Bucky, stop… what if someone sees?” You whispered.

Bucky didn’t ease up, rubbing soft circles on your hip as he drew you in closer. “It’s okay, nobody’s looking at us.”

You glanced around. The loud music masked your hushed whispers, and the addition of Thor’s Asgardian liquor had worked wonders on the team of superheroes. With all of their defences down, no one had noticed the way the pair of you had sidled off to the side.

“We shouldn’t risk it.” You whispered, reaching for his hand and stopping it in its tracks.

“Let’s get out of here, just for a little bit,” he leaned in, pressing his lips to your jaw. The gentle ghost of his breathy murmurs in your ear sent your heart racing, “ten minutes, that’s all I need.”

“Are you really suggesting that we hook up in the middle of the party?” Your head tilted in a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

“Why not?” Bucky pouted. His lips looked so damn kissable when he did that. The thought of giving in, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth in a frantic need to satisfy the urge that you were starting to feel right now was starting to not seem like such a bad idea.

“Because…” Your voice trailed off in search of a compelling reason. Even the slightly hint of doubt would signal a dead giveaway to Bucky that you were more than willing to give in. And the worst part of it was the stupid grin on his face that told you he knew this too.

“Because?” He taunted, his smirk growing wider.

“Because…” The agitation in your voice grew as you struggled.

Bucky chuckled darkly, letting his right hand meet his other at your waist. He turned you slightly, until your back was against his chest. Grip tightening, he pulled your hips back into his. Pressed flush against him, you became all too aware of the way his tight, muscular body felt against yours. And that wasn’t the only thing.

“Bucky, are you-“

“Painfully.” He whispered, leaving another soft kiss just below your ear. Your head fell back to rest against his shoulder. Lips parting, a quiet whimper escaped from them. Bucky  tucked a curl behind your ear to lean in better, “What was that that I just heard, hm? You can resist all you like, doll. But your body’s betraying you.”

He was right of course, but you bit your bottom lip anyway in an attempt to prevent yourself from letting another sound slip. The more you tried to hide your growing desires, the more Bucky persisted. His hand slid down your hip to the hem of your skirt. He played with the material, gently grazing his fingers across the back of your thigh that was now exposed to him. Instinctively, your legs clenched as he dared to venture higher.

Bucky chuckled under his breath. “Bite your lip all you want. But what are you gonna do when you start to soak through your underwear and all over that pretty outfit of yours?”

Your face burned red as your gaze immediately fell downwards. Searching the front of your dress as discreetly as you could, your shoulders relaxed when you found that you hadn’t. But your reaction alone was enough to let Bucky know that you considered it a real possibility.

“Did I have you worried there for a second?” he mocked, “You know I’m right. Come on… ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked, gripping your hand and pulling you out of the room.

It was a wonder that you made it to the bathroom at all. His hands were everywhere. Running through your hair, on your waist, cupping your cheek. But yours were the same, only pulling away just long enough to fumble with the bathroom door. It pushed open, and you both crashed through.

With a hand on his chest, you pushed him back to lean on the door. His eyes widened in at your sudden control, but who was he to stop you? Ripping the hand towel down off the rail by the sink, he dropped it to the floor to cushion you as you sank to your knees in front of him. You toyed with the zipper of his jeans, slowly pulling them and his boxers down in one as you pressed soft kisses to each inch of his bare skin that you exposed.

Bucky let out a tormented groan from the back of his throat as your tongue teased up to the head of his cock. He looked down at you and nearly buckled at the sight. Your hand gripping his thigh, hair messy and lipstick smudged. He watched your wet lips twist into a soft smirk that was so close to wrapping around him.

“When you said painfully, I had no idea this is what I’d done to you.” You cooed, innocently sliding your palm up and down his length.

Bucky hissed at the sensation and reached out to tilt your face up to look at him. His fingers were firm on your cheeks. “We’re down to nine minutes. You gonna keep talking with that sweet mouth, doll, or do you want to put it to good use?”

He didn’t have to ask twice. His tip grazed the back of your throat in one smooth motion. But you didn’t let it rest. You moved your head back and forth, letting your tongue trace over every vein. Bucky’s hand slid up from your jaw to cup your cheek, pulling you further around him as he met your movements with shallow thrusts. His view of you faded as his eyes squeezed shut, revelling in the overwhelming pleasure you were bringing him. The two of you might’ve set a time limit on this brief rendezvous but fuck he could let you go on like this forever.

Head falling back against the door with a soft thud, he growled. The animalistic sound ripped through his gritted teeth as he tugged your head back and off him. Pre cum lingered on your lips as you licked them clean.

Reaching for your hands he helped you to your feet and wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He walked you backwards until your bumped into the sink. Reaching for your thighs, he lifted you up to rest on the countertop. Your skirt slipped and bunched up around your waist as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned in, nudging himself between your legs. Gentle whines slipped out from your trembling lips as he brushed over your wetness.

“Bucky…” You begged softly.

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured, sliding your underwear over to one side, “seven minutes.”

Bucky pushed his hips forward to meet yours, burying himself completely in you. His head dropped to the crook of your shoulder and his lips met your neck. Your arms curled around his broad back, scrunching up the material of his shirt as you clung desperately to him. Soft grunts from him reverberated up into your ear as he pulled out of you only to get sucked right back in by your tight cunt. With one hand on your hip and the other on the edge of the sink, he kept you in position to take it all. Every stroke inside of you had you clenching down around him. His knuckles turned white as his fingertips pressed harder into your skin with each sharp thrust.

“Such a good girl, letting me fuck you with all our friends in the next room,” he muttered between delicate nips at the skin just below your ear, “and you had the nerve to act like you didn’t want this just as much as I did.”

Your hands moved up through his hair and down to the sides of his face as you leaned in, lips met his in a needy fashion. The kiss that followed was all-consuming, swallowing any quiet moans that might give the pair of you away. But shallow breaths slipped out here and there as Bucky rolled his tongue over yours in passionate frenzy.

He pulled on your hip until your body slipped closer to the edge of the sink, and you let out a small gasp. As Bucky’s lips parted from yours, he smirked at the fucked-out haze that glazed over your eyes as his cock rutted up deeper inside of you. As he quickened the twitch of his hips, your thighs tightened around his waist.

“Keep that up, and I won’t be able to pull out, doll.” He grunted softly.

Your brows furrowed as your head leaned back in a wave of pleasure. You weren’t listening to a damn word he was saying right now. Bucky’s hand left your hip briefly to tilt your head back to him.

“Is that what you want? Want me to fill you up and fuck it back into you hard enough that it doesn’t leak out for everyone to see?”

Too out of it to verbally respond, your thighs gave him a light squeeze and answered for you. Bucky’s hand let go of your face and reaffirmed its position on your hip as he then set a ruthless pace. Your head slipped forwards to rest on his shoulder. Burying your face in the crook of his collarbone, your moans vibrated against his throat, driving him crazy. You let your body go limp in his hands as he worked to bring you both a release that the pair of you desperately craved.

Two more thrusts was all it took to bring you both over that delicious edge. His metal hand nearly snapped a porcelain chunk out of the counter with how hard he was gripping it when he came. But you were only the same, with your thighs shaking and breathing heavy. You fluttered around him with every beat of your heart, squeezing every drop of come out of his cock that he had to give you. He lazily rocked his hips a couple more times, coating every inch inside of you.

Bucky’s hands released your body from his tight grip as he gently brushed strand of messy hair out of your face, but he kept himself seated.

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t worth it.” He breathed.

Your pink cheeks pinched into a soft smile. “Maybe it was.”

“Maybe, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, not hesitating to lean into your neck.

“What are you doing?” You giggled as you felt his gentle kisses.

“What? I’ve still got one minute left.” He grinned playfully, trailing kisses up your cheek now as well.

“Bucky.” You whined, feeling his cock teasingly plunge deeper inside of you. Your sensitive body could barely handle any more.

“Fine,” he smirked, and slowly eased himself out of you, “but when this party’s over, I’m done holding back.”

[dontopenfairies]

He climbs into my lap.

“Oof,” I say. “Somebody smells like pee-pee.” He squirms a little. “Who do you think it is? Can you guess?”

No answer.

“I’ll make it real easy for you, okay? Two options. Who do you think smells like they wet themselves? Me? Or you?”

I wrap my arms around him, his back on my chest, and feel him breathing in and out.

“Come on, honey, use your words.”

“Probably me,” he murmurs.

“Uh-huh,” I say, bouncing him a little on my legs. “Because who has a diaper on?”

“Just me,” he says.

I pull back the elastic of his pajama pants and he reacts involuntarily, hands reaching down to stop me from checking his diaper.

“How come you don’t want me to pull your pants down, baby?” I whisper in his ear.

“I—uh—I don’t know,” he says. He isn’t looking at me but I can feel heat coming off his neck and ears. I lean my head on his shoulder and glance at his expression. He looks ready to die of embarrassment.

“It’s just me here, honey. Nobody is going to hear you. Nobody else is going to see your diaper. And have I ever judged anything you’ve done?”

He shakes his head.

“No, that’s right, I haven’t. Put your hands on mine, okay? Like this.” I place his left hand on the back of my left hand and he takes initiative and places his right hand over my right hand. And then we both ease down the elastic waistband of his pajama pants, enough to see a very, very wet diaper peek out.

“Would it feel good if I touched it, honey?” I ask. His left hand slips up to his mouth and he bites his finger. He nods.

“Where? Show me where.” He pulls my right hand down into his pants and I start to rub his diaper, squeezing it. “That’s really heavy, I say. You had to go a lot, huh? Should we change you?”

He shakes his head.

“No change? Why not, baby? Ohh, do you want me to keep petting you?”

“Don’t stop,” he says. Now both of his hands are up by his face. “D-don’t stop.” His breath is getting shaky. He shifts his hips, diaper crinkling. I start to rub him faster and he’s grinding against my hand, and getting it damp from his pee soaking through the material. He’s so cute like this, whining and blushing, and I can’t resist kissing his neck over and over. “Mama, I’m going to—“ He arches his back, squirming like crazy on my lap.

“Aww, did you have another accident in your diaper?” I ask him, pushing him gently down onto the couch and climbing on top of him, one elbow on either side of his body. He nods shakily. I settle on the couch behind him and wrap my arms around him again, pulling him very close to me. “Handsome, smelly baby. Do you want a change now?”

He shakes his head. “Uh-uh. Can I just have five more minutes like this?”

“What, do you like wearing a smelly, sticky, used diaper? Huh, baby?”

“Mmmmm…maybe…”

“And you like me holding you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, we can stay like this for five minutes. And then you’re getting a change.”

[eatyourmaker]

explanation in tags.

i know this is supposed to be my spooky month specific blog but something very scary just happened and I've never felt more stressed in my life

I can barely walk I'm so stressed, it's like I lost all the strength in my body

Please pray for us

Please