#if not we can totally arrange something else x

[nereidprinc3ss]

light of the morning

in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs

It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 

It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 

"Hi."

"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 

You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 

"Did I wake you?"

"How could you tell?"

"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"

"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."

He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.

You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 

"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."

His eyebrows dart up. 

"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"

When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 

"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"

His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"

"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."

You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 

"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.

He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."

It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 

"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"

"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."

You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 

"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."

Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 

You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 

"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"

"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 

"Spencer."

“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 

"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."

He looses a nervous laugh. 

"I know. We’ve just never really done this."

You frown at the darkness.

"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."

"Yeah, but… this feels different."

That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 

Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 

"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 

"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 

"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.

"Can I…"

"Yeah."

Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 

He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 

"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 

"Goodnight," he whispers back. 

You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 

------------------------------

It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.

Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 

But you’re just friends. 

Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 

"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 

"Five."

"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."

"Sometimes waking up early is okay."

His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—

He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 

Friends. 

"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."

"I don’t want to go back to sleep."

The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  

"No? What do you want?"

Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 

The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.

So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?

Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 

"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"

"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"

You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 

Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 

"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 

"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"

He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 

You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 

"It’s fine. Thank you."

He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 

"Did I just ruin the mood?"

"No," you laugh, "not at all."

"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 

"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 

He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 

"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"

"Kind of," you breathe.

"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."

Well, he’s not wrong there. 

You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 

You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 

Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 

Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 

"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."

"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 

"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 

You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 

Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 

"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 

He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 

"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 

He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 

You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 

When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 

"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."

You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 

You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 

"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 

"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 

"You must have me confused with someone else."

"Doubtful."

You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 

"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"

It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 

"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 

"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."

He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 

"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 

"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."

"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."

You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.

"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 

"Only for you."

Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 

"Only me?"

You moan an affirmation. 

"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"

"Yes!"

"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."

"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"

He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 

You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 

"You okay?"

All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 

"Need your words, angel girl."

"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 

"Yeah? Why so quiet?"

But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 

"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"

"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 

"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."

"An hour."

He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 

"I said 48 minutes."

But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 

[kikyoupdates]

Girlfriend-For-Hire ⭑˚🦋⭑ 𝟶𝟷

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.

story masterlist | next

“...you can do what now?”

“Hire someone to date you,” your friend, Ava, repeats. She chuckles and waves you off dismissively. “Come on, [Name]. It’s the modern age. People are always coming up with new things these days. I’m willing to bet there’s an app or website out there for practically anything.”

You blink in disbelief. Granted, there is all kinds of crazy shit going on in the world, and you’ve heard of companionship services before—like escorts or sugar baby arrangements—but to hear that something like this is trending nowadays is still undeniably a shock. 

“Here, look,” Ava gestures, pulling out her phone. “I was curious, so I downloaded the app the other day just to check out.” 

“Uh, don’t you already have a boyfriend?”

“He knows I was just browsing. I showed him too, and we scrolled through some stuff together. A lot of the profiles on here are wild,” she laughs. “It’s crazy what people advertise they’re willing to do. Get a load of this guy. He says he’s down to meet your family and make a total ass out of himself just so that he lowers your parents’ standards and the next real boyfriend you get will look way better by comparison.”

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. “I can’t tell if this is actually real, or just some new meme template.” 

“Of course it’s real! I think you’re underestimating how lonely people these days are. There’s definitely a lot of money to be made in this industry. Just look at how much people are willing to blow on their favorite streamer, even though they’ve never met them a day in their life. Dating’s gotten a lot more complicated lately, so I guess some people just want to skip past the troublesome parts and experience what it’s like to be with someone.” 

You furrow your brows. The whole thing sounds incredibly sad when you think of it that way. People would rather pay for a fabricated relationship than put in the time and effort towards building something real? Loneliness is starting to sound like an actual epidemic nowadays. 

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t judge people without understanding where they’re coming from,” you acknowledge. “It’s not like I know what they’ve been through. Times are changing and all. It sounds like this is actually starting to become pretty mainstream.” 

Ava nods chipperly. “Yep! I mean, I love my boyfriend, so I’m definitely not the target audience, but maybe it’s what some people need to gain a little boost of confidence and get back into the dating scene. I doubt everyone uses it in a romantic sense too. There are people out there that just want a bit of company every now and then. Isn’t it nice that they have someone to spend time with this way?” 

“Yeah… I guess that’s true.” 

Honestly, you’re still struggling to fully wrap your head around this. You understand the premise well enough, but you can’t really get past the part about accepting payment just to provide someone with a fabricated experience. Then again, you suppose that’s the case for most things nowadays. People are willing to spend the brunt of their earnings on in-game purchases for video games and other things that aren’t tangible in the real world, because even though they aren’t necessarily organic, it still provides them with some satisfaction. 

Long story short, it’s not up to you to decide what does or doesn’t make someone else happy, and you suppose as long as it’s executed in a professional manner, there’s nothing wrong with meeting new people this way. 

“Hey, I’ve got a great idea,” Ava suddenly perks up. “You should join this app! You’re super pretty, smart, and nice. I bet you’d have loads of guys lining up to hire you as their girlfriend!”

“Me?” You blink repeatedly, shuffling backwards the closer she leans in. “I mean, I just don’t think I’m the right person for the job. If it makes people happy, then I support it, but deep down, I worry I’d feel like I’m exploiting someone’s feelings just for a few extra bucks. Morally speaking, I’m not so sure I like the idea…” 

“It’s not exploitation,” she insists. “People know what they’re signing up for. At the end of the day, it’s a buyer-seller relationship. Someone pays for the service being advertised, and they receive it. As long as you’re not ambiguous about what you’re willing to do for the amount that you’re charging, people know what to expect. Of course, I’m sure there might be the occasional asshole here and there, but if they do anything inappropriate or violate the terms, you can report them through the app and they’ll be banned from using it.” 

You’re not quite sure how to respond to that. Some extra money would be nice. You’re a university student with all sorts of loans, so it’s not like you’ve got excess cash lying around. And it’s also true that you’ve been looking to apply for a new job lately, since your old manager was a total ass and you ended up quitting. 

Still. A girlfriend-for-hire? Someone like you? It’s just really difficult to imagine. 

“I actually think it’d be a good experience,” Ava goes on. “You’ve never really put yourself out there before. I know everyone dates at their own pace and stuff, but you shouldn’t have to be afraid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet some cool people and want to date them for real. And even if you don’t end up going for them, you still make some money, so either way, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

You chuckle weakly. “Yeah, I just don’t know. I feel like I’m better suited for traditional jobs. But thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m glad you think people would actually be willing to pay to date me.” 

“Girl, you seriously need to believe in yourself more,” Ava sighs. “I’m telling you, you’re a catch. But at the end of the day, it’s your call. You shouldn’t force yourself into anything if you feel uncomfortable.”

You smile and nod in agreement, and sensing your discomfort, Ava decides to change the topic.

But for some reason, you feel a twinge in your chest, and it’s hard to keep your mind from wandering.

Later that same day, you’re lounging on the couch, mouth agape, having just downloaded the app on your own phone. 

“What the hell am I doing…?” 

You tell yourself that it’s just simple curiosity. Yeah. That’s all it is. Ava piqued your interest earlier, and now you just want to scroll through in more detail to get a better sense of what kind of people use this platform. 

The app is called ‘Partner For Hire’. The name isn’t particularly inspired, you have to admit, but you suppose it communicates its point rather effectively and leaves no room for ambiguity. Ultimately, this is a transactional relationship, and it’s probably for the best that clients know what to expect. 

You can use the app as either a buyer or seller. Meaning that you can create your profile and advertise your services, or simply list yourself as a prospective client and what your hobbies and interests are. In that sense, it’s kind of similar to most dating apps, since you have to take a flattering photo to go along with whatever blurb you’re providing. Of course, just because you try to solicit someone’s services doesn’t mean there’s any guarantee they’ll accept. This is an app where you can run everything yourself, and of course the company takes a cut of your profits, rather than an agency that matches you with a client regardless of whether you want to accept the job or not. 

There’s definitely a lot of flexibility, and you can easily choose who you want to pretend to date. If someone is interested in hiring you, they submit a request to be able to contact you, and once you accept, you can message them directly and establish the terms of the dating contract, such as the length and what particular services will be provided. 

You scroll through the list of boyfriends/girlfriends being advertised on the app, and honestly, it seems like there’s a decent amount of money to be made. Of course, a lot of that comes with building a good reputation and improving your ratings and visibility so more people will want to hire you, but it actually seems like a decent amount of people are able to make a living off this sort of thing. 

You bite down on your lower lip. Should you really go ahead and just do it? Like Ava said, there’s probably not much to lose. All the transactions are managed on the app, so you can easily report people who try to skip out on paying. Clients have to link their banking and personal info, so they’d be taking on a big risk by trying to scam people. You’re sure it might happen from time to time, but based on the reviews you’ve read, the company is really good at enforcing their policies and making sure everyone gets paid.

The money seems good, and it would definitely help take some pressure off your student loans, but ultimately, the biggest thing you’re struggling with is your moral compass.

People are willing to spend money for this kind of thing, and that’s entirely their choice to make, so it’s not like you’re extorting them or anything. Still… you wonder if it’s actually okay to profit off of someone else’s loneliness. You’ve never worked the kind of job that requires you to cater directly to another person’s emotions, and it kind of freaks you out.

But maybe Ava is right. There are all sorts of people in this world. Maybe some of them are just curious to try the app out. Maybe others just want to get their families off their back by pretending like they’re dating someone for a little while. There’s no way to discern everyone’s motivations, so perhaps there’s really no point in thinking about it at all. 

Most importantly, this could be a good thing for you. Life has been stagnant recently, and it’s true that you usually hesitate to put yourself out there. You’ll never learn what you do or don’t like if you keep on avoiding everything. This could be a chance to learn a lot about other people, but also, to learn more about yourself. 

Yeah. It’s time to stop overthinking for a change and just try something new. 

Thus, feeling unusually determined, you spend the rest of the day setting up your profile (finding nice selfies was the longest part of the whole ordeal), and with a resolved huff, you post it and officially go live on the app. 

You’re not really sure what you were expecting, but needless to say, there isn’t any immediate feedback. It probably takes a while for people to stumble across your profile, and even then, there’s no guarantee they’ll want to go out with you. 

I guess I was getting worked up for no reason. Certain people might find success with this kind of thing, but it’s probably not as easy as it looks. 

You scratch your cheek, suddenly sheepish over how needlessly excited you got earlier. You’re not used to stepping out of your comfort zone, so you must have gotten a bit carried away. 

For the rest of the evening, you set your phone aside and come back to reality. You get some homework done, make dinner, and by the time you’re ready for bed, you’ve pretty much forgotten about the whole thing altogether. 

That is, until you check and see that you’ve missed a notification.

“Huh? Someone viewed my profile and wants to message me?”

You’re undeniably taken aback. Not just because it’s happening a lot sooner than you expected, but also because it means that contrary to what you first thought, people��are interested in you. 

Having minimal experience when it comes to dating and romance in general, you have to admit, the thought of being viewed as desirable is immensely flattering. 

Curious to see who wants to hire your services, you click on the user’s profile.

His name is Isaac, and he’s twenty-one years old, set to complete his undergraduate studies at the end of the year. He goes to a different university than yours, thankfully, because you can’t help but feel like it would be incredibly awkward to bump into him on campus after pretending to be his girlfriend. He’s studying to become a doctor, which means he’s still got a lot of school ahead of him, but you’ve always had a lot of admiration for people who are willing to commit to their goals and work hard. 

Also, even though you don’t want to sound shallow or anything… he’s really, really attractive. 

You frown. Granted, there’s more to a person than their appearance, but based on how he comes across in his profile and what his future career is, he doesn’t strike you as the type of person who would struggle to date someone.

But again, you can never know what’s going on in a stranger’s life. And there’s no real way to find out why he decided to join the app.

Apart from speaking to him directly, of course. 

[𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬?]

>>[𝐘𝐄𝐒]

After a momentary delay, the screen loads into a messaging interface, allowing you to see what Isaac sent you and respond to him directly.  

You stare at the messages without blinking, just taking it all in. So, there really are people like him out there, who use these apps for reasons other than seeking companionship. It sounds like he’s not too interested in dating for real, but his parents are putting a lot of pressure on him, so he just wants an escape. Honestly, you can’t blame him for it. Your parents were overbearing for the better portion of your life—even now, as an adult—so you can understand just how suffocating it gets at times.

All of a sudden, you don’t feel too bad about accepting the job. It doesn’t feel like exploitation in the slightest. In fact, you’d be helping someone resolve a frustration situation, while getting paid in the process. It actually sounds like it could be rather fulfilling. 

More importantly, you decided to be more confident and try something new. You refuse to back out now. 

You stare at the messages without blinking, just taking it all in. So, there really are people like him out there, who use these apps for reasons other than seeking companionship. It sounds like he’s not too interested in dating for real, but his parents are putting a lot of pressure on him, so he just wants an escape. Honestly, you can’t blame him for it. Your parents were overbearing for the better portion of your life—even now, as an adult—so you can understand just how suffocating it gets at times. 

All of a sudden, you don’t feel too bad about accepting the job. It doesn’t feel like exploitation in the slightest. In fact, you’d be helping someone resolve a frustration situation, while getting paid in the process. It actually sounds like it could be rather fulfilling. 

More importantly, you decided to be more confident and try something new. You refuse to back out now. 

[𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞]:

You’re admittedly a bit nervous, especially since you want to do a good job and avoid letting him down, but mostly, you’re feeling excited. All of this is uncharted territory for you, after all. Never in a million years would you have imagined taking on a job like this. 

And you really shouldn’t have.

You don’t know it yet, but this will be the cause of many, many regrets. 

Shit. I’m starting to have second thoughts. 

Even now, you still can’t believe you’re really going through with this. After talking to Isaac and ironing out the finer details, you agreed to join him for a family gathering and pose as his girlfriend. You expected for him to have quite a few requests, but luckily, he seems pretty laid back about the whole thing. The better portion of your conversation was spent on getting your stories straight so as not to incur any suspicion, and since you’ve always been a good student and a hard worker, you promptly memorized everything there was to know. 

And now, it’s finally time to put this plan in motion. 

“Hey,” Isaac greets. “[Name], right?”

It’s the evening, since his parents are hosting a dinner party. The event is supposed to be pretty casual, but you still dressed up semi-formal in the hopes of making a good impression. He never explicitly mentioned how strict his parents are, but since they’ve been on his case about getting a girlfriend, it never hurts to go the extra mile. 

"Hi, Isaac,” you smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.” 

“You, too,” he nods. He’s considerably taller than you, and every bit as handsome as his picture suggested. Unless his personality is god-awful (which you probably would’ve picked up on after messaging him for so long), you’ve got a good feeling that most girls would be interested in him.

Still, everyone is different. He might have really high standards, or maybe he wants to focus on his studies, or perhaps it’s just a case of having never met the right person. Whatever the reason may be, his parents shouldn’t be pressuring him to date someone, and if you have the means to help him out, you’ll happily do it. 

“You look really nice,” Isaac says. He tilts his head to the side. “I hope you didn’t feel like you had to dress up to impress anyone. The most important part is that they believe I’m seeing someone so that they finally ease up a bit.” 

“Oh, I just did this for my own peace of mind,” you reassure. “I made sure to memorize everything you told me in advance, so I’m confident I can convince them that we’re the real deal. Even though this is technically my first day on the job… I promise not to let you down.” 

You blush, feeling rather flustered. The idea of being someone’s hired girlfriend is still a lot to wrap your head around, and you certainly don’t want to make empty promises, but you have every intention of giving it your best shot. Isaac is in a stressful situation, and you’re resolved to do whatever you can to fix it. 

“Can’t wait to get this over with,” Isaac sighs. He opens the passenger door and gestures for you to step inside the car. “Don’t worry. I know you might be feeling a bit uneasy, but I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything like that. I won’t hold it against you if you have 911 ready on speed dial until we get to my parents’ house.” 

“I trust you,” you insist. “I’ve heard good things about this app, and it sounds like they take safety seriously. They’ve got your information in their system, after all. Plus, I can tell that you’re a nice guy. It’s just a gut feeling.”

“I appreciate it,” he smiles. “Anyways… I guess I’ve stalled for long enough. You can probably tell that I really don’t feel like going. But the sooner I get them off my back, the better.” 

“I’ll be the best girlfriend you can ask for,” you beam. 

It’s a promise to him, but also to yourself. You are committed to taking this new job seriously, and for the rest of the evening, you will do whatever it takes to blend into the role that’s been thrust upon you. There’s no reason to get worked up. At the end of the day, all of this is pretend. It won’t be anywhere near as complicated as a real relationship.

Right?

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[cozage]

Hi! Do you write angst stuff? If so, can you please write about something like s/o is from a normal, well educated, middle class family but her parents don't approve of their love because well you know, he is a pirate. Ace, Law, Shanks x f!reader please

A/N: This is only very loosely edited. I’m sure theres plent of typos and grammatical errors. Forgive me!  Characters: f! reader x Ace, Law, Shanks Cw: This is angst only…should I make a part two with resolution? Also there are some harsh words exchanged in some of these. Just be mindful of that :) Total word count: 3k

Disapproval

Ace

You spotted Whitebeard’s jolly roger in the distance and braced yourself for the next few days. Ace was surely on that ship. He never missed a visit to your island. You knew it would only be a matter of time before you’d have to see him again, but you hadn’t expected him to return so soon. 

You watched the ship pull into port from the cliffside, trying to decide what to do. Ace was expecting you to be down by the docks when he arrived, as you always were. But you knew it would only make everything harder, and you haad been warned to stay away from the pirates due to their…bad image. 

You fiddled with the engagement ring on your finger as you thought. Ace deserved to hear the news from you. It was cruel, but hearing it from a local would be worse. With a stone weighing in your stomach, you rose from your place and started down the path to the port. 

You loved Ace. With all of your heart, you loved him. But your parents were extremely affluent individuals in the community, and Ace was a pirate. He had plenty of other women on other islands to comfort him-women you tried not to think about too hard. But you couldn’t spend your life waiting for the next time he came too you. He had his life on the sea, and your had your life on this island. 

So when William Cleed had asked for your hand in marriage, you agreed. It was an arrangement between your parents, and William was a rather boring fellow. But he came from a good family, and he was kind to his servants. He was a good man. Plus, the marriage would solidify your parents position in the community and strengthen family ties. It was the sensible move. 

“There she is!” Ace’s voice rang out amongst the sounds of the portmen, and you found him at the bow of the ship, waving down at you. 

You gave him a sheepish grin and small wave, the way you always had as the two of you waited for the gangway to be set. His grin made your heart swell, which paired with an instant pang of regret. 

Unwilling to wait any longer, Ace jumped over the side of the ship, landing on the dock directly in front of you. 

“Miss you, love.” His eyes gave a quick scan over your body, lingering a moment too long of your lips. “You look good.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile dancing along your lips. “I bet you say that to all of your island girls.”

Ace wrinkled his nose at your comment. “Only you. I tell you every time, there’s no one else.”

“And yet you always leave.” You raised an eyebrow at him. This was a daance the two of you always did.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. “Come with me.”

“Ace-” you tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he only strengthened his grip on you, a smile still on his face.

“I know, I know,” he said with a sigh. “You can’t go and I can’t stay. So we just have to keep dancing this dance we always do.”

You tried to pull away again, but he didn’t budge. “Ace, I need to talk to you.”

“I missed you.” Hiis lips were already on yours as he spoke the words. 

You should’ve felt guilty. You should’ve tried to pull away, or push against him. You should’ve tried to get away and preserve yourself and your fiance. 

Instead, you melted into him. You couldn’t help it. You ignored the reasonable part of your brain that was reminding you about your bethrothed. You would tell him about your engagement the moment you pulled away, you just needed to taste him one more time. To have your sense invaded by campfire, to have your mouth slightly numb and your hair a tangled mess from his fingers twining through them. Just this last kiss, and then you could say goodbye. 

“What the hell is this?” William’s voice broke through the smoke that was fogging your brain, causing you to yank out of Ace’s grasp. 

“William-” you gasped, trying to think of a reason he would’ve found you like this. 

But William wasn’t looking at you. He stepped infront you you, glaring directly at Ace. “You pirates thing anything you look at is yours. Get the fuck away from her!”

The sharpness in William’s voice was something you had never heard before, and it caused you to take a step back from both of the men. 

Ace blinked, confused and slightly disoriented from your kiss. His eyes found yours, asking for an explanation, but you simply adverted your gaze. You should have told him, but now your voice was gone. 

Ace gave out a nervous laugh. “I don’t understand. She was fine-”

“The hell she was!” William shouted. “My fiance doesn’t go around kissing other men, especially not a pirate.”

The way he spit the last word made your cheeks heat with shame. You had never been ashamed to be seen with Ace or any of his crew before, but the Cleeds wouldn’t be caught dead frequenting the same establishment as a pirate. 

“Fiance?” Ace barked out a laugh, but was quickly silenced. You knew he was looking at you, at the ring on your finger. “I-”

“William, dear,” you interrupted quickly. “Can we just go?”

WIlliam finally turned around to you, his eyes instantly softening as he looked at you. He smoothed some of your wild hair and wiped some dirt off of your face. “Did he hurt you?” he whispered. 

You shook your head. “No. I’m okay. I swear.”

Ace was staring at you, trying to get your attention. “Y/N-”

“Don’t say her name,” William growled, turning back to Ace. “Don’t even fucking speak to her.”

“I can talk to her if I damn well please! She’s her own person!” Ace took a step toward you, but William stepped up to meet him, cutting you off from him. 

“And my betrothed,” WIlliam hissed. “And my family will not associate themselves with your kind.”

You could see Ace’s temperature rise at that comment. You knew the look on his face. One that often happened when people in the bar spoke poorly of Whitebeard or laughed at someone in his crew. He was getting ready to loose his flames.

“Please-” your voice cracked on that word, finally looking at Ace and all of the confused pain on his face. “Please just let it go.”

William turned to you and relaxed, walking back to you. “Yes, of course. Let’s go.”

He smoothed your hair again, gently kissed your cheek, and led you away from the docks. You didn’t dare to look back to Ace, but you knew he was still standing in the same place you had left him, silently begging you to turn and run back into his arms. 

Law

Trafalger Law had visited your island a few times and managed to stop in at your family’s cafe every single time. And every time, your conversations went about the same. 

“Welcome back! What brings you back to the island?”

“Business for the World Government,” he’d say with a straight face, staring at the menu. 

You’d give a nervous laugh. “Right. Classified, I’m guessing.”

He’d finally give you a smirk. “You’d be correct.”

“Anything I can help with or give you insider information on?”

“Just a sandwich.”

It was at that point that you’d remember he stopped in for service, not conversation. You’d quickly ring him up and make his order. He always sat at the bar near you. At first, he didn’t seem interested in making small talk with you, but after the third or fourth visit, the two of you could talk through the entire meal without any awkward pauses or lulls in conversation. 

And without fail, everytime he left, your mother would stick her head out from the back room and click her tongue in disapproval. 

“You shouldn’t be so kind to men like that. He’s a pirate, you know. He’ll take you hostage and not think twice about it if it benefits him.”

“He’s a Warlord, you know. Sanctioned by the World Government,” you’d always say back. 

She’d scrunch her face at that comment. “Just means he can get away with it.”

The two of you would roll your eyes at the other’s remarks and get back to work, but those golden eyes would stay in your mind for the rest of the day. 

One day, Trafalgar Law came into your shop twice in the same day. 

You couldn’t help but smile at him. “Back for the World Government Business? Or just a sandwich for the sea?”

“Neither,” Law said. “It’s actually a personal matter.”

Your heart began to race at his words. “Oh? And how can I help with that?”

Law looked back at the door as if he wanted to run, but his crewmates were blocking the exit, staring at him expectantly. 

He turned back to you, watching you carefully. “Are you busy tonight?”

It took a moment for you to process his words. “Tonight? Uhm…no, I don’t think so.”

“I’ll meet you here at seven, then.”

It felt like all the air had gotten sucked out of your lungs. “What?”

“For dinner.” He started to walk away, and then froze. “I mean, if you want to.”

You gave a nervous laugh. “Do you even want to?”

He quickly turned to face you, and you could see the calculated panic across his face as he realized his communication errors. 

A smile spread across your face as you watched him try to fix his mistake. “I’ll see you here at seven. Don’t dress up too fancy, okay?”

He gave a quick nod and then slunk out of the building. You couldn’t help but laugh at his awkwardness. You hadn’t seen that level of communication issues from him since his first lunch. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to hear anything from your mother. Her and your father were away for the day, working an event on the other side of the island. 

You closed the shop quickly and ran home to change into anything but your work outfit. Law had seen you in that enough times. 

Law was already waiting for you as you approached the bakery again, and gave a smirk when he saw you. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t show up.”

You flashed him a smile in return. “And miss a evening out with a pirate? How could I refuse!”

He rolled his eyes at your enthusiasm. “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s nothing big. It’s just-”

“Y/N?” Your father’s voice made you freeze in place. Even Law stopped speaking mid-sentence. 

You quickly spun around to see your mother and father standing in the path. “You guys are back early!”

Law turned around as well, slower and more disinterested in the conversation. But you saw the moment your mother recognized his face. How her eyes bulged out her her face for just a moment. How she whispered to your father. 

Your father’s eyes widened aat your mother’s indistinguishable words. “You’re coming home right now,” he said to you. 

Plastering on the fakest smile you could, you willed yourself to speak confidently. “I’m actually just on my way out. Everything is okay at home, though.”

“Listen here, girl-” Your father strode up to you in five quick steps and grabbed you by the arm. “If you don’t come home this instant, you will have no home to come home to.”

“Father-”

He tugged on your arm. “Now.”

“Go,” Law said, already turning around and heading down the path without you. “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch.”

“You will not!” Your father screamed after him. “You and your crew aren’t welcome in my shop! All you bring is trouble!” 

Law didn’t respond as he kept walking, so your father turned his rage to you. “If you ever see him again- If you ever try to go out with him again- You will be no daughter of mine. Is that understood?”

You glanced down the path one last time to see Law vanish out of sight. “Understood,” you whispered. 

Shanks

“Run away with me,” Shanks whispered between kisses. “You’re too busy here.”

“I have to stay.” You managed to get the words out before his lips came crashing back onto yours. 

“You don’t have to,” he argued. His goodbyes were always like this. 

You pulled away from him. “Just like you don’t have to go.”

“I’ll be back.” He gave you one last kiss, and then he was gone. 

--

Your mother clicked her tongue in disapproval as you stumbled back in, still drunk from the wine and Shanks’s lips. 

“That man is a walking bad idea,” she warned. “I told you to stay away from sailors. They’re bad news.”

“Shanks is a pirate,” you mumbled without thinking. “That’s a totally different profession.”

“What?” Her sharp eyes cut over to you, fire burning from your words. 

You were in for it now. You let out a groan and stumbled up the stairs, but your mother was quick on your heels. 

“Me and your father have set you up a good life. You have a good job for now, your on track to be the first graduating student with high-”

“I know!” you shouted. “My life is perfect!”

“It is!” She shot back. “And we have worked tirelessly to ensure that. So I’ll be damned if you ruin our hard work because of-”

“He offered to have me join his crew, you know.” The mischief in your eyes cut her off mis word, her mouth still hanging open in shock. “Maybe I’ll take him up on it next time!”

With that bombshell, you slammed your bedroom door shut. 

“He’s a filthy pirate!” Your mother screamed through the wooden door. “He’ll use you until he grows tired, and then he will dump you off just like every other girl!”

“Better being stuck on this damn island!” you shouted back, but your mother had already stormed back down the hallway. 

You shouldn’t have threatened your parents. You shouldn’t have mentioned leaving. You shouldn’t have even told them about Shanks in the first place. Because your parents held onto things; let them fester. Their rage never left them, it just sat dormant until they needed to call upon it. 

That rage didn’t manifest again until you saw the red-hair pirated sailing into port. Coincidentally, it was the same day that your professor had assigned a huge research project. Upon arriving home, you found that you were to prepare the meals for the family for the next week since the chef had taken a vacation, and that your parents has volunteered you to work the summer camp that helped the underprivileged island children. 

“I know what you’re doing,” you whispered to your mother while chopping vegetables one night. “It won’t work.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about dear.” She gave you a false smile and returned to her book. “I could use some more tea.”

You had plans to sneak out after dark, but your parents stayed in the foyer until the early hours of the night. Between school, volunteering, making dinner, and working on your project, you never could stay awake longer than them. 

You knew what they were doing. Severing your relationship with Shanks and his crew was the best way to keep your family’s reputation pristine. But you had to see him once before he left. Just once. 

You stayed up all night to finish your project, and finished all of your dinner preparations before you went off to your volunteer duties. Dinner was finished and ready the moment your parents got home. 

You served your parents, ignoring your mother’s glare that you hadn’t set the table for yourself. 

You took a deep breath. “I’m going out this evening with some-”

“No,” your father said. “Sit and eat with us. We are a family.”

“I’m going to eat with some friends.”

Your mother raised an eyebrow at you. “Which friends?”

You began walking towards the door. “Enjoy your meal.”

“Y/N” Your father’s voice was like a blade across your skin. “Sit and eat. You have things to do afterwards here at home.”

“I’ll do it when I get back.”

“Sit. Down.” There was the rage you remembered so well. The piece of him that required you to be perfect. Obedient. 

You sat down at the table. 

You resisted the urge to shy away from his glare as he spoke. “You will not go out tonight.”

“It’s just for a few hours. I need-”

“You need nothing,” he snapped back, immediately silencing you. “I will lock you in the cellar before I allow you to galavant around the town while pirates are in town.”

“Besides, we saw that red-haired young man in the market earlier,” you mother cooed. “Seems he found another doe-eyed girl who was stupid enough to say yes to his offer. Im so glad you moved on from that fantasy and are focusing on what’s actually important now.”

Your heart stopped in your chest. “You’re lying.”

She gave you a wicked smile. “I’d sayyou could go see for yourself, but it seems you shall remain on the property. For your own safety, of course. And since we will not allow such filth in the house, wee’re at an impasse.”

“You’re lying,” you said again. You could feel your body shaking, your eyes welling with tears. But you couldn’t stop yourself. 

What pity your mother looked at you with. “I’ve told you dear. We don’t socialize with animals for a reason.” 

Your father gave a thoughtful nod, as if your mother has actually said something profound. “Well, not that we’ve got that covered, why don’t you tell us about the research project you have for Professor Kiamari.”

“I think-” you stood from the table, almostknocking over the chair. “I think I’m going to go work on that right now.”

“I think that’s a swell idea,” your father agreed. “Anything less than perfect-”

“Is a failure,” you finished. 

“And we didn’t raise a failure,” your mother said. 

With a weight crushing on your heart, you receded to your room wondering if Shanks had even realized you weren’t around anymore.

Part 2 by request :)

[mossyivy]

Yearn | '24 Alphabet Challenge

Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Summary: You break off your FWB relationship with Leon after being feed up with his lack of commitment. But even after years of being apart and marrying another man you realize moving on was a lot harder than expected. An the feeling might just be mutual.

Words: 7.3k

Content Warning: 18+ content, pet names (sweetheart, angel, baby), cheating, possessive behavior, desperate Leon, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it please!), cream pie, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praise, degredation(if you squint), spit and marking.

Authors Note: Listen... This is my first time ever putting something like this online so please be nice to me. I tried and think I did decent enough.

"You want a drink?" Leon asks, pouring whiskey over some ice in a lowball glass. Looking up at you in your seat in one of his armchairs

"No, I need to go soon. Wouldn't be a good idea."

This has become the norm for you two. You come over to his apartment on the weekends. Both of you have packed schedules due to working for the D.S.O. and being on the same team. But coming over usually meant it lead to much-needed stress relief in the form of sex.

Something mutually beneficial for both of you. Leon wouldn't have to worry about you getting attached, since you knew the dangers of your job. And you... Well, you didn't really get much out of this arrangement except to stay connected to him in some form. Even if it wasn't what you wanted.

Leon wanted no string attach, no commitment. No feelings involved in the deal.

But you failed miserably in that department. Already having some kind of undefined feelings for him before starting these weekly meetings. Repeatedly getting hurt by your own actions, knowing full well how he was with this arrangement and what you agreed to.

"You got plans?" His eyebrow rises as he sips his whiskey, rounding the corner of his kitchen island and sitting on the arm of the couch next to you. Sipping his drink leisurely.

"Actually yes." You smile to yourself, gaze meeting Leon's as you look up at him. Finally, feeling happy at the thought of moving on, possibly.

"I have a date with a guy from the office. Shepard from accounting."

Leon nearly choked, covering his mouth with his arm as he coughed. Clearing his throat, his expression shifted to one of annoyance. His eyes fix on you, glaring sharply and unable to hide his obvious jealousy. Something he hasn't felt in ages now.

"And... you just decided to tell me now? What about our agreement?"

You raise a brow, confused by his reaction.

"We agreed what happens in our private lives is our business unless it directly affects one of us."

"But if you date someone, that's my business. You don't think that doesn't affect me too?" His nose wrinkles as he stands up from the arm of the couch, setting his glass on the coffee table.

He can't believe he has to even have this conversation with you. He thought it was obvious enough to not have to say anything.

"I haven't kissed him, slept with him or even held his hand. No germs or possible diseases have been swapped. How is this your problem exactly? We aren't together, we're just in a..."

You stop to ponder for a moment, really thinking about how to phrase this without coming off as a total bitch.

"We're friends with benefits. No exclusivity."

"And if you're seeing another guy, that would stop. I really don't feel like looking for someone else when what we have is good right now."

The thought of replacing you was disheartening and uncomfortable. It took him long enough to open up to you to begin with. Starting at square one again just wasn't an option he wanted to take. Your arrangement was just what he wanted, what he needed to keep his shit together.

"And what exactly did you expect of me, to just sit around and cater to just your needs?"

Your face turns to a scowl, eyes burning with a certain kind of fire that hardly anyone gets to see. You glare at him, hard. He can feel the tension rise between you two.

"I can't just wait around for someone who 'doesn't do relationships,' Leon. I have the right to be happy with someone."

"I didn't say-" He cuts himself off, swallowing the lump in his throat as he feels his face heat up. The irritation in him bubbled up in his very soul as your eyes met. He stares you down trying to get you to crack and look away first, but you don't back down.

"I didn't say you had to wait around for me. I just..." His glare faltered for a second, irritation turning to discomfort at the accusation. "I thought I'd have more time. Not just have you spring this on me so suddenly."

"Why do you think I told you? He just asked me out today, and it was out of the blue. He's a decent enough guy, so I thought I'd give him a chance."

You stand up from your chair, grab your bag from the floor and slide it over your shoulder.

"It's not like you caught me sneaking around, I told you before anything could happen. You're just pissed because you don't want to lose the only connection you have with someone outside of work that gives you the tiniest shred of normalcy."

As much as he hates to admit it, you're completely right. He knows you're right. But he's definitely too stubborn, closed off and selfish to admit it. Stepping in front of the entrance to his apartment, he crosses his arms, determined not to let you leave until everything is settled and hopefully in his favor.

"Listen, I know I'm not a relationship guy. But I'm human. I have feelings and... And needs still."

"So am I." You turn, crossing your arms as you stare back at him.

"The only reason I agreed to this situation to begin with is because... I just wanted to be closer to you and I knew you didn't do relationships." Your own words sting, admitting what you felt. And even with the new revaluation, you looked hurt over the situation.

"And I can't just sit around hanging on to the tiniest shred of hope that you'll change. That's not healthy... So I think it's time for, whatever we have, to just stop and for me to move on. And finally get fulfillment out of a relationship someone can commit to me in."

But your words cut deep. You were completely justified, Leon knew that. Despite knowing you were in the right, Leon couldn't help but feel like he was being slapped in the face. Like all the time you spent together was just nothing.

"You're just going to throw us away then? For some guy at work... What was his name? Shepard? What the hell kind of name is that!?"

"I'm not throwing it away for some guy, I'm walking away for my own sake." Your brows furrow as you glare at him again, not wanting to be hostile, but at this point it only feels like you can get the point across this way.

"I thought you of all people would understand what it's like wanting to move on from something that hurts you constantly. But I guess I was wrong."

You feel the burning behind your eyes, trying to ignore it. You sniff, blinking repeatedly to keep the tears at bay.

"All I want is not be in a situation where I know someone can't or refuses to love me like I want to be. Not anymore. I don't think that's too much to ask for."

Leon feels like he's shrinking seeing your eyes glaze with tears. He didn't even realize he was causing this much pain. Even if he hadn't intended to, he strung you along with the hopes of something he wasn't even considering. Not until now at least.

"Listen..." Taking in a deep breath, he frowns, looking into your teary eyes, "I'm sorry. I didn't know I was hurting you. I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"Trying and doing are two different things. That's why I want to call it quits now... Before I end up resenting you or... Or we feel bitter towards each other. We still have to work together, and I'd rather not think about how much I hate you every time I have to look at you."

You sniffle again, a few tears escaping before you can wipe them away and step towards him.

"It's just best if we just go back to being only colleagues."

"So that's it? We're just..." He stops himself again. It's not worth arguing, you've clearly made up your mind, and he should just be the bigger man and respect that. His head hits the door as he looks up at the ceiling, feeling a pain wash over his chest. He's not ready to let you go, and it's clear to him that even he got attached.

"Fuck... Okay." Rubbing his eyes, he steps away from the door, not blocking you from leaving anymore. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Reaching the door knob, you clutch it tightly as he jerks towards you. Not stepping in front of you but making sure he's visible.

"Wait. Can... Can we have one last kiss? For old times sake."

Every part of you is screaming no, but you tighten your shoulders with a nod.

"Yeah... I can do that." Moving in, you slot your hands onto his biceps, leaning in. Your lips land on his, applying a light pressure. Nothing remotely close to some of the more passionate kisses you've shared over your time together.

For Leon, it takes everything in him to not give in and kiss you exactly like he wants to. To wrap his arms around you and suffocate you completely with him. Make his last mark on you before you go your separate way. Show you how much he loves... the company you give him.

But this is for the best, to just go back to normal like nothing ever happened. His hands meet the small of your back as he takes in one last long look at you. Not wanting to let go until you step back.

As you pull back, you look up at him as his eyes meet yours. Almost like they're silently pleading for you to stay. Giving a quick rub to his biceps, you step past him, a small smile meeting your lips.

Saying goodbye just feels wrong to you, so you settle for a see you later.

"I'll see you at work on Monday..." Opening the front door, you give him a quick nod, closing the door behind you as you leave his apartment one last time.

He stares at the front door, hoping you'll come back any second now and just tell him it was some kind of fucked up joke you're pulling. You never do.

Walking back over, he slumps over on the couch, holding his head in his hands. Trying to think of where exactly he went wrong with this entire thing. Glancing up at the coffee table, he spotted his whiskey, swiftly picking it up and downing the almost full glass with a dissatisfied grunt. All before he gets up and makes his way towards his liquor cabinet once again.

You're not paying attention when one of your coworkers is droning on about whatever to Shepard next to you.

Connie? Chloe? Cassie? Whatever her name was, it wasn't important right now. What was important was the glances being thrown at the end of the sturdy brewery table.

"Are you okay, hun?" Your trance was snapped, eyes shooting back to your husband as his smile filled with concern.

"Yeah." Your voice is half-hearted and still slightly dazed. "Just thinking too much."

Thinking too much about the blue eyes burning into you from a few seats down.

You didn't blame him, it's been 4 years since you two had any real conversation outside of work. Being married for 2 years, you've tried to respect your husband and steer clear of Leon at any point. Shepard didn't know your past, and you wanted to keep it that way.

But now that you're all in the same place due to a work retreat. You don't know how long that's going to stay hidden. Who knows what could happen?

You quickly smile, as you've trained yourself to do, as you look at Shepard. He smiles back before sipping his rum and coke. Looking back at the brunette across the table talking.

"What were you saying, Cassidy?" Shepard asks. The woman nodded, sipped her wine and set it back on the table.

"I asked, are you happy she's changing departments? I bet it's unnerving having your wife risk her life every time she leaves and not knowing if you'll see her again."

"He is, he always hated how much I was away or just scared something would happen, y'know?"

"I'm always worried about my special girl. I love her." Shepard squeezes your thigh with a smile. Rubbing his thumb across your bare skin.

You feel nothing when he touches you. You never have and probably never will. He always talks about this spark between the two of you, but you feel no spark at all. Not even a little buzz.

You just smile back at him and continue to sip your wine, glancing down the table at Leon, talking with one of your other colleagues. You feel uneasy but still somehow calm. Even after being apart for so long, he always seems to draw your attention.

Leon's having a conversation with another coworker. Or at the very least tries to have a conversation...

He's watching you out of the corner of his eye, observing with a Stoic expression as it usually is these days. But to the trained eye, he's completely obvious. He honestly can't help himself from looking at you.

Just as beautiful as the day you left...

His mind wanders as his side glance lingers too long, he's still so in love even after all this time. He thought it faded from your separation, but if anything, it's gotten worse with such little contact outside important assignments or the occasional workplace banter.

It's slowly driving him nuts that sometimes he wonders if this isn't just an obsession but physically seeing you brings him right back to earth. The thumping in his chest became harder to ignore.

God, he wishes he was Shepard. To spare him the looks you gave your husband. The thought of being able to touch your thigh again without care nearly gives him a hard on.

But he catches himself. Teetering on the edge of his mind, wandering too far. He swallows it, forcing it down. Knotting the pit of his stomach to not let it show. He takes a long sip of the whiskey sour in his hand and tries turning back to the conversation.

You try your hardest to put on a fake smile as you listen to Cassidy and Shepard rattle on. Sipping your wine, you feel that familiar rubbing.

Glancing down, you see Shepard's hand gripping your thigh with a firmness you've felt before. His large hand dawned with the wedding ring matching yours staring back at you as his thumb glided across your bare skin.

For any other woman, this would be an instant turn on. But for you, that's all it is, just a hand. Nothing special or thrilling. But you look at your husband as he gives you that sultry look he thinks is flirtatious, but it just makes your skin crawl.

And not in a fun way. This is getting to be too much.

"I think I'm going to go for a smoke." You cut off the chatty Cassidy. Shepard's head turned to you with a smirk.

"You want me to come with you?" Shepard sits forward, ready to stand when you put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"No, no. I need to make a phone call anyway. Could you watch my drink though?"

He nods as you take your phone off the table and step back from your seat. Shepard clears his throat as you lean over giving him a kiss, almost as if you've been trained to do so.

Finally, you walk out of the brewery, past tables filled with chatting people and around the side of the building to the secluded smoking balcony. Surprisingly empty as you show up. Grabbing one of the two chairs, you have a seat in front of the railing.

You lean back against the seat, looking up at the dark night sky full of stars, mind wandering to the man inside.

Not your husband...

"Fuck..." You mumble, pulling the pack of Marlboro's out of your jacket and slipping one of the sticks between your lips.

You retrieve your lighter, flicking the button repeatedly. Only a tiny spark igniting with a soft click. You groan in irritation, trying again.

"This seat taken?" You nearly lurch out of your seat, quickly turning to see Leon standing next to the empty chair, drink in hand.

"Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me..." Putting your hand on your heart you feel it pound from fear, glancing up at Leon you almost swear you could feel it skip for a split second.

"Is that a yes?" He asks, his lips curling into a smirk as he looks down at you.

"Yeah, sit. I don't care." You flick your lighter repeatedly, finally getting it to light as he sits. You make brief eye contact, slipping your lighter back in your pocket.

"Following me isn't really a great look for you, Kennedy." Leon scoffs, brows knitting as he takes in your figure far longer than appropriate.

“Can’t a guy just enjoy sitting next to a beautiful woman for a while?” It's your turn to grin, taking in his old cheesy way of talking. Your eyes start to linger now, taking in his appearance.

You can see the once lively eyes he had now grown into tired and strained. Hair darkens with age to match the beginnings of crows' feet. But he still looked handsome as ever. He always will.

"It's a free country, I can't tell you no." You continue with the banter, turning your attention back to the cigarette as you take in a drag. Glancing at him, you exhale, thinking of a way to break the building tension.

"So..." You knock some ash off your cigarette into the tray between the chairs and look at him again. "How've you been? I heard you're taking my spot as team lead. Congrats."

"Thanks, I'm doing okay." His hands move as he tries looking anywhere but you. Licking his lips, he finally looks at you again.

“What about you? You're happy about the change? Being off the field completely and all.”

"If you like sitting behind a desk all day slowly rotting from the inside out, sure... You know I'm a woman of action." You wince at your own bitterness and sigh.

"I took the new job for Shepard. He's been on my ass about taking care of myself since we..." You stop yourself, looking down at the wedding band, just another reminder of what once was between you and Leon.

"I just wanted to make him happy." You slip the cigarette between your lips again, looking down at the phone as it goes off in your lap.

Leon bites his tongue before saying the first thing to come to mind and nods instead.

Yeah, if she took that job for Shepard, she probably wouldn’t be pleased with it.

He can probably guess how much you do for him by that reaction alone.

“So... you do love him, then?”

You're mid-drag when the coughing starts, caught off guard by the sudden question. Your head snaps to Leon, coughing into your closed fist.

"Excuse me?" Leon shrugs, looking unbothered by your reaction.

"You took the job for his sake. So you must love him... Or at least want to keep the peace between the two of you. But you've always been a pretty good actor."

"He's my husband, isn't he?"

You almost sound defensive, not really giving him a yes or no response. You know the answer. Leon took note of the lack of one.

"Why are you asking?"

"Just curious." He takes a sip of his whiskey sour, shaking the glass, loose ice clanking against the misty sides as he stares down at it.

“I just thought, maybe... you were looking at me earlier. During dinner, during cocktails. I know I was staring at you. And the way you looked at Shepard. It seemed like you were almost... bored with him?”

You both loved and hated how perceptive Leon can be sometimes.

"Wow, I had no idea you were suddenly an expert at what I wanted. Little late for that, don't you think?" Your tone was sarcastic, but you knew what he was saying was true to an extent.

Even if you don't want to admit it.

He takes in your response, sipping his drink again as he nods. He has your down pat and the smirk forming on his face says he's completely aware of it.

“So am I right?” He asks, not really expecting much of an answer.

"Leon, you can't..." You look away, scrunching your nose, frowning at his question.

“Accuse you of settling? You just sort of settled on Shepard? Because he’s safe? Because he’s a good guy?” Leon continues, setting his drink down next to the ashtray. He leans forward, trying to get a glimpse of your face.

"It's not fair of you to ask that. Not from you of all people." But it's true, you settled for Shepard. Knowing he loved you and was looking out for your best interest.

"He loves me and I..." You stare at the street below, unable to finish what you started saying. The ring on your finger starts to feel heavier as it weighs on your hand and conscience.

The obvious truth was that you didn't love him, you tried. Really, really tried to but never got the same kind of attachment to him like you did with him.

With Leon...

"Sweetheart."

God no, his voice is so charming still...

"You don't love him, do you? You've... Never loved him." Finally, you look at him again, wanting to curse him out desperately.

But he's so smug, the look on his face says he already knows how to make you admit it. And you both know he'll drag the truth out of you one way or another.

"I hate that you can read me so well still." You finally answer, unable to keep up the lie. Taking in a deep breath, you extinguish the cigarette, leaving it in the ashtray. You look back at the street below, feeling Leon's eyes on you still.

"We both know how well I know you sweetheart." His voice is barely above a whisper. He leans in watching your eyes flicker at him. That natural shine he's used to seeing back again, to greet him like an old friend from years past.

It's enough of a greeting that you both know how this could end, easily.

You know that look all too well, feeling your heart thumping in your chest, harder than it has in years now. You know exactly what he's thinking about.

"N-No Leon." Your voice can't even carry a stern tone as he makes you weak in the knees with a single look. Your stomach does a flip as he just stares, look unwavering.

"I'm married!"

"You think I'm not aware of that?" He leans even closer, his hand sliding onto your thigh.

You say nothing, watching him put his hand on you, squeeze you like Shepard does.

Like when you feel nothing...

You know it's wrong, you should stop him from touching you. But the familiarity is so comforting as his thumb glides over your silky skin.

God, it feels so different with Leon... So good... So wrong, but so right at the same time.

The feeling of fireworks fills your chest and butterflies materialize in your stomach. That same feeling from years ago is rearing its ugly little head to claw its way back around your heart again. You just stare at each other, not saying a word.

“You’re married,” he speaks again, just repeating what you said. “But you’re still in love with me, aren't you?"

You swallow again, the gulp making an audible noise. Almost like you just sucked down a golf ball.

"I want to hear you say it." His voice sounds like he's on the verge of begging for it. You grab his shoulder and push him back to arms length.

"Leon, no... It's wrong. Happy or not."

"But, I want you." The words slipped out of him so easily, making you ache.

Ache in a lot of ways, in a lot of places you definitely shouldn't for someone who isn't your husband.

"Please... Just one kiss to see if the sparks are still there." He's quite literally begging now, grabbing your hand.

"Honey?" You shoot up from your chair the second you hear his voice, yanking your hand away. You quickly step past Leon as Shepard appears around the corner.

"Honey, hi!" You sound unnaturally excited to see him.

"Hey Shepard." Leon stood from his chair and sounded cold. Honestly, not caring to cover his bitterness about the situation.

"Oh, hey Leon." Shepard greets him, noticeably a bit intoxicated by how he's standing. "I didn't know you smoked."

"He doesn't!" You blurt out, gaining your husband's attention again. "He was just asking me for advice about being the new team lead. Just helping a co-worker out."

"Aww, that's so sweet of you, baby." Shepard smiles sheepishly at his wife, not even realizing you're lying through your teeth. "Speaking of baby... Could you help me get Cassidy to stop talking about her kids? Pretty please?"

You sigh with a fake chuckle. "Yeah just... Give me a minute."

Shepard nods, giving you a kiss on the cheek and walks back into the brewery.

"So, you're okay with that?" Leon crosses his arms, gesturing between you and the door.

You glare at him, not bothering to hide your annoyance.

"You're insufferable..." You rub your eyes thinking before you speak.

"Look, I don't... Love him... But I don't want to hurt him either. He's still a good guy..."

“A good guy, huh?” He whispers, stepping forward, taking your hands in his.

“But not enough to make you feel anything when he’s around. That's strictly reserved for me, yeah?” You feel your skin warm up as you pull your hands away.

"Jesus Christ..." His cocky attitude makes you groan in irritation.

"I could honestly choke you right now... I swear."

"You know, I know what buttons to push to get you all riled up. Just to come right back into my arms."

You roll your eyes looking back into the brewery, seeing Shepard start to wobble in his chair slightly. You know that he's at his drink limit now.

"Leon... Just... We'll talk later." You start walking away towards the door to inside the brewery when he grabs your wrist. Not painfully tight, just enough to get you to stop walking.

"Or we can talk now." You sigh, thinking of a solution, as Leon let go of your wrist.

"What hotel room number did they stick you in for the work retreat?"

"Why?" He grins, leaning in again. "You're going to drop by for a special visit later?"

"To talk." You emphasize, getting more irritated as you lean in closer "And only talk..."

"Fuck, you're so hot when you're mad." You groan watching him bite his lip as he looks you up and down.

"Room number Leon. Now."

"Can't ever let me have my fun, can you? Room 407." Your eyebrows furrow, of course he'd only be two doors down from you.

"I'll be over at midnight."

"I'll be waiting with bated breath." You shoot him a glare, making him chuckle as you walk back into the brewery.

Collecting your husband, with a lot of effort and his cooperation, you make it back to the hotel in a good amount of time. Unlocking the door, you help him over to the bed, laying him on his side.

Getting him plenty of water and making him take Tylenol before he inevitably passes out to avoid the hangover you know he'd definitely be having if it weren't for you.

Soon it's midnight, and you make your way two doors down. Knocking on room 407.

You hear heavy quick footsteps coming towards the door. Leon opens the door, his hair messy and his shirt's top three notches unbuttoned. This was starting to feel really reminiscent of your old hook-up days.

“Come on in, sweetheart. I was starting to think midnight would never come.”

You push your way into his room, shutting the door behind yourself, so none of your coworkers see them together. You glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You got a lot of nerve pulling the shit you did earlier."

"Oh I'm aware," Leon locks the door, stepping up to you slowly. His eyes trailing your figure again, "you'd be lying though if you said you didn't like it."

"So you think betraying his trust is better than cheating on him?"

"Y'know, I hate how you keep avoiding what I've been asking you today." His hand comes up, caressing your cheek, you grab his wrist to move his hand, but your eyes meet with his. His thumb runs along your jawline, leaning in closer, his voice becomes warm against your ears, a sultry tone tickling you in all the right ways.

"He doesn't get you like I do. Make your knees weak with a simple touch or feel how easily your pussy throbs if you're called the right name in bed... He doesn't know that side of you."

He smirks, feeling your skin become warm underneath his fingertips.

"I fucking hate you." Leon snickers, bringing himself closer to you.

"No you don't. You love me." His eyes flick from yours to your lips. Lingering for a split second before you speak.

"Do you have it in you to love me like I want?"

"Of course I do." He's known since you left how he felt.

"Prove it. Tell me how you feel then."

“I love you." He speaks without hesitation, running his thumb across your bottom lip.

"I’ve always felt this way. I get that feeling in my stomach when I look at you, that feeling whenever I touch your skin, I’ve needed you for years now. I’ve known it almost as long as you’ve known you don’t love Shepard... I miss you." Your breath hitches, hearing what you've wanted to for so long. Leon drew closer, lips centimeters from each other.

"Do you miss me?" With that question your little shred of resolve disappears.

"I miss everything... How you make me feel. Your touch... How you always know exactly what I'm thinking even when I can't put the words together..." You frown, looking at him before leaning on him. Wrapping yourself around his entire being.

Your noses touch, lips slightly parted as you look deeply into each others eyes. The beautiful blue in his eyes surrounding your reflection, encasing you completely.

"Tell me how much you want me." Your body quivers, hearing his borderline demanding tone.

"He loves me, but he's never made me feel like a woman. Not like you did before... And I want you so badly, I can feel it in my bones."

Your lips glide over each other's. Not able to hold back much longer.

"How badly do you want me?" You ask, watching him pull back from your lips. Smug smirk staring at you, almost like he's watching his next meal.

He reaches out, brushing the back of his hand across your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin radiate into his. His hand moves down to your chin, tilting your head up towards him.

"I could show you instead, if you'll allow me." He stares into your eyes, waiting for a response, any sign that you'll let him in again.

You give in with a short, simple nod.

His lips are on you, fiercely pressing his tongue against your lips, possessively pushing his way in. His hand goes to the back of your neck, hitting the hotel room door with a loud rattle.

Your hands fly to paw at his open chest, his hands prodding at your thighs under your dress, pulling your legs around his waist. Hands gliding up to your ass, squeezing it while you're carried to the bed.

He breaks the kiss, pushing your body to the bed. Leon pulls off his dress shirt, popping buttons as he rushes, tossing it to the side as he climbs on top of you. Soon, his hands are back on you, gliding up your thighs, pushing your dress up past your hips to pool at your waist.

"Well, I'll be damned. My favorite pair." Leon breathes out, sounding like a laugh as she looks at his favorite pair of blue lace panties covering your lower half. His lip curls up as he kisses above the edge of the fabric. Making your hips jolt for a second, acutely aware of how wet you actually are.

His hands travel up, pushing your dress up and over your head. Sitting up on his knees, he takes you in. Biting his bottom lip as his eyes wandered, wondering where to start first.

"I missed this body so badly." Leon traces his lips across your skin, starting to kiss under your ear and down your neck. His hands gliding under you to unclasp your bra, freeing your chest.

"Do you know what I want to do to you right now?" He growls into your ear, making you whimper in response.

You try to think straight at the moment, but all you can focus on is his strong hands roaming down your side, slowly towards the wetness pooling between your legs.

"To fuck me like you'll never see me again." He smirks against your ear, feeling your warm breath against his cheek. He chuckles darkly, knowing exactly what he wants, what you both want as his hands pull your panties off, dropping them on the floor with your dress.

"Good girl. You've always been so smart, angel." You watched him sit up and undo his belt, pulling it through the loops of his pants. Quickly making work of his pants and boxers, he stands over you naked. His thick cock standing at attention against his lower stomach.

Your legs come together as he pulls you towards the edge of the bed, grip tight around your thighs as he sinks to his knees. He spreads your legs, eyes landing on your wet slit, he playfully leans over, kissing your knee as he puts your legs over her shoulders.

His lips roam, kissing down your inner thigh. Reaching up, his finger spread your folds open. Watching the wetness from your arousal glisten against your skin, Leon let out a throaty groan in satisfaction.

"Fuck, you're so perfect like this. Ready as ever for me aren't you, sweetheart?" His lips turn to a smirk as he leans down, licking a slow gentle strip up your folds. Forgetting how much he enjoyed the sweet taste of you.

A soft moan erupts from your lips, arching off the bed to grind into his mouth, Leon placing a calloused hand on your abdomen to keep you in place. His other hand digging his short nails into your plush thigh.

With a final lick to your fold, Lean spits your juices back in you entrance, burying himself in your pussy, nose on her clit and deep in your tight hole with his tongue working your g-spot expertly.

As if he never forgot where it was in the first place.

The ridiculous amount of squelching alone would be embarrassing, but it felt too good to care. You hadn't felt like this in years.

Leon feels your walls convulse around his tongue as his eyes flick up to watch you quake in pleasure. A moan leaving your lips as your fingers bury themselves into the silky hotel bedsheets. Shaky breathing breaking as you feel his mouth pull off you. Your eyes shoot down watching him lick his lips clean of your juices.

"Fuck I missed making you feel this good." Leon lines up 2 of his fingers with your core, gliding them inside you. Feeling your walls clench around his thick digits. Eliciting a moan from him as he curled into the spongy spot.

"Could have you gushing on my fingers like this forever." Leaning down nibbling at the sensitive flesh of your thighs. Leaving behind subtle teeth marks. Not caring in the slightest if your husband saw it or not.

You're finally his again, and he'd be damned if he wasn't marking his territory this time. Staring at them for a moment makes his cock twitch.

Leaving one final bite, he focuses back on your pussy, his tongue slips from between his lips, gliding across your clit. Lips move to latch on and suck gently. Your legs quiver, shaky breathing signaling you're getting close to release. His fingers move in perfect tandem with your body.

"C'mon beautiful, cum for me." Your eyes roll back, glazing over as you bite down on your lower lip muffling a cry of pleasure. Climaxing on Leon's fingers and hand as he works you through your orgasm. Feeling your body relax, tension leaving as relief washes over you after what feels like forever.

Panting softly, you lift yourself onto your elbows to watch Leon lick his slick fingers clean, savoring the taste before diving back into your dripping entrance to clean things up properly as you watch him with a close eye.

"I've been thinking about this moment for years. Been dreaming about being buried deep inside this tight little pussy again." Pulling away and licking his lips, he kisses your thigh once more.

"Has he ever made you cum like that? Or has he been depriving my angel?" Your head spins at the question, swallowing hard as you try thinking of an answer as he caresses your face.

"No, never as good as you..." He moves, pulling you up onto the bed, putting you up against the pillows, crawling on top of you. Moving to kiss your collarbone up to your ear. His full weight pressed down on you, cock pressed against your inner thigh.

"Can I fuck you? Need to be buried inside you, feel you around me again." His voice sounds borderline desperate as he asks, your eyes turning away.

"You should let me show you how good it could be to be claimed as mine again," his hot breath trickles against your ear. He moves his hand down to grip onto your chin firmly, making you meet his hot gaze again.

Desperation not only poured from his words, but his expression too.

"Tell me you'll let me have you again, so I can make you mine... Fully. Just like we both know we want." You know you want to, you feel nothing for Shepard.

Nothing comparable to what you feel with Leon.

Your lips part as you give him an answer.

"I'm yours, only yours, Leon. Every part of me." His eyes lit up, leaning in and pulling you into a passionate kiss. Happy to finally have you again in every way.

"Do you remember how good I used to make you feel?" He moves forward, positioning himself at your entrance, ready to claim you completely.

"You're mine and mine alone." Sliding into you, you feel that familiar fullness of his cock inside you. Digging your nails into his shoulders as he huffs into your neck, your legs wrap around his waist out of instinct.

"Fuck, I forgot how good you feel." He mumbles against your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down your throat to the top of your breasts. A deep groan leaves his chest as he rolls his hips into your tightness.

You feel your walls contract around him, almost like your molding to perfectly fit him and only him.

"Oh fuck, Leon." You breathed out, hand running up to the base of his neck, pulling at his hair.

"Feels too much like home," Leon's voice is thick with pleasure as he continues to drive into your wet pussy, feeling every bit of your heat surround him, "he definitely hasn't been fucking you right... Of course not. He's not me. Doesn't know shit about your body like I do, does he?"

He grunts into your neck, body trembling at the effort it takes not to cum immediately from how good you feel against him.

Reaching down, he grabs your ass, pulling you tighter to him, starting to pound into you. Moving his hand, he lifts your leg, hitting that angle that turns you into a hopeless puddle beneath him.

You let out a string of broken moans, louder than intended, but you're at the point of no return. Feeling the intense knot in your stomach building quickly. You can see his face getting red as he pulls back from your neck to look in your eyes.

"Close, so close." He watches your face contort in ecstasy, smirking.

"Mine to take care of, mine to pleasure, mine to claim... " He reaches in-between your bodies and starts to circle your clit, his voice becoming more unsteady as he gets closer to his climax.

He feels that quiver around his cock, your nails digging into his back and pulling at his roots as you finish around him.

"Fuck, fuck. I'm-" His voice breaks, burying himself deep inside you, he fills you, a pathetic moan slipping from his lips as he collapses on top of you.

You're both panting heavily, his head on your chest listening to your heart thump against your ribcage. He smiles, still trying to catch his breath, kissing over your chest. Your hand weeds through his hair, pushing his bangs back from his face.

"I didn't even know you could make a sound like that." He grumbles against your skin, biting your chest lightly. You giggle as he rolls over off you, bringing you to his chest.

"Shut up." But he smiles down at you, watching how easily you curl into his side. Bringing your hand up, you caress his cheek, brushing over the bone with your thumb. He takes it, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. Taking note of your wedding ring.

"Are you okay?" He questions, voice sounding a bit worried. "I wasn't too much?"

"No. You were perfect. Are you okay?" He just nods in response, rubbing his hand across your lower back slowly.

"Why don't you take a nap before heading back? You look tuckered out." His smirk returns, you simply nod, cuddling up to him. Nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck and putting your arm around him as he holds you close.

He knows he's going to struggle to let you go again.

"I don't see it out here either." You say, look around the hallway. Shepard raises his head from dragging your luggage out of the door. He slides the card into the door, locking it before turning back to you.

"Baby, it's fine. We'll get you a new one." His irritation is obvious as he walks past you towards the elevator when one of the doors in the hallway opens. Out stepped Leon from his room, bag over his shoulder as you lock eyes. He smiles before noticing Shepard, his face dropping to its usual Stoic expression.

"New what?" Leon questions, watching your husband turn his head.

"She lost her wedding ring." Shepard pushes the button, calling the elevator as you and Leon walk up behind him.

"You seemed pretty drunk last night. Maybe she lost it helping you back to your room?" Shepard looks at Leon, his face dropping and irritation evaporating in an instance.

"Was I that bad? Jesus, honey, I'm sorry." Shepard puts an arm around your waist. You look at Leon from the corner of your eyes.

Leon's shooting daggers at Shepard, who's none the wiser.

"Just check the lost and found before you leave." He suggests, looking back at the elevator doors as they open. You all step in, stuck in-between Leon and Shepard.

Leon fidgets next to you, he stares straight ahead. Trying to ignore your skirt tapping his leg, or your perfume taking over his senses from how close you are.

But in the end, he can't help himself.

His pinkie finger pops out, brushing against your fingers, fully expecting rejection in the form of your hand pulling away.

Thankfully, he's greeted with your pinkie, interlocking with his until the door rings again. You walk out ahead, Shepard, carrying your bags. You spare him one last glance and a smile before leaving around the corner to the hotel lobby. Leon smiled to himself, stepping out of the elevator.

Shoving his hand in his pocket as he walks, feeling the cool metal of your wedding ring brushing against his fingertips.

All the while knowing, he isn't losing you this time.

[number1jeonginstan]

Sucking on Minhos fingers while he's got you in a headlock... Hehe

A/N: THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD REQUEST!!! At first, I didn't know what to write, so that's why I took so long to fulfill it. I usually try and imagine scenarios in my head and then play them out in my writing, and it finally hit me while I was re-watching Chainsaw Man today. I really hope I did you justice and you enjoy it because I think this might be my favorite fic to write to this day!!!

WC: 2.7k (1.6 is literally smut...)

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: Roomate!Lee Know x afab!reader

Warnings: Lee Know calls the reader a slut, cum eating, mirror sex (just a bit), head lock, protected sex (for the first time ever), idk what else?

It was a normal night between you and your roommate Minho, he would spend every Friday cooking for the both of you guys while you caught up on assignments. It was a good arrangement because you hated cooking, and it was his favorite pastime. In return, you would wash all the dishes and make dessert for the both of you. Baking had always been your favorite, and you loved trying new recipes with him, and he did the same when it came to new dishes. 

This week, he wanted to try out a sous vide steak. “Can you pass me the butter please?” Minho said across the kitchen. “Yeah of course!” you said, walking across the kitchen to pass it to him. “Thank you!” he replied back, basting the steak that he had searing on the stove with the butter you just passed him. 

You went back to sitting on the barstool, continuing to work on the assignment you had due for your Journalism class at midnight. As you continued to work, Minho continued to cook. He was making a side of vegetables but needed your opinion on whether or not they were seasoned enough. 

“I need you to taste this,” he said, holding up a fork in front of you. You were so immersed in your assignment that you just opened your mouth, waiting for him to put it in your mouth. He did so, and before you could notice how he stared at the fork leaving your mouth you said “I think it needs more salt, just a pinch, but it’s good.” 

He just coughed and nodded, turning away, not letting you see how his ears turned a bit red at the tips. “Yeah, let me add some more salt and then we can sit down and eat.” 

“That works for me!” you replied, finishing up the assignment at hand and submitting it. You close your laptop, pick up the plates, and place them on the table in the middle of your apartment. “What kind of wine do you want to drink tonight?” you asked him, looking in the fridge. “Red would go best with today’s steak,” he replied cutting up the steak into pieces on the cutting board. 

“Alright got it” 

As you took the first bite, you moaned to him how good it was. “I think this is your best recipe yet,” you told him while taking a bite of the vegetables. You didn’t realize that your little moan caused him to cough up a bit of his wine.   

To distract himself from what just happened, he told you how Jisung had accidentally spilled coffee all over himself at work and he laughed so hard that he spilled some on himself too. You told him about your week too, how classes were kicking your ass too. 

“Oh, and this dude in my literature class asked me for his number.” You took another bite of the steak. He was fuming a bit, but not wanting to show it he casually asked “Did you give it to him?” 

“I didn’t want to be impolite, plus he seemed nice so I did. He invited me to get dinner with him tomorrow.” You said while taking a sip of your wine. 

“Did you say yes?” he asked, annoyed you were giving your number out to total strangers. 

“I told him I would most likely be able to, but if something came up I would have to cancel and he said that was totally fine, why?” you replied, a bit confused as to why he was so interested. 

“Oh, I was just wondering, it’s been a while since you’ve been on a date.” 

“Yeah, I know, that’s why I wanted to go out. I’m tired of being stuck at home constantly.” Before he could interject, you quickly spoke up again. “Not that I’m tired of hanging out with you, I love spending time with you. I just want to look pretty for someone, get all dressed up,” pointing down at yourself, “not just in sweats all the time.” 

“That makes sense,” Minho scoffed, and you could hear a bit of undertone in his voice. 

You decided to ignore it, collecting both of your dishes as you finished them. “Do you wanna play the new episode of Chainsaw Man while I bring the flan?” you asked 

“You made flan again?” he asked while walking over to the couch. “Yeah, I knew how much you liked it last time, plus my friend gave me this recipe to perfect it.” 

“Oh, that’s nice, thanks for thinking about me.” he was already sitting down so you couldn’t see the grin that was plastered on his face. “Hey, don’t be so egotistical, I liked it too,” you said while bringing over two bowls of it. 

You guys sat in silence, eating the flan while the episode played in the background. Minho would occasionally look at you, watching your little reactions to what was playing on the screen in front of the both of you.

“Damn, I wish I was Denji,” you said loud enough for Minho to hear. It was a scene of Himeno putting him in a headlock. “You want to be choked?” Minho asked, not sure if he understood you correctly. 

“I mean, it seems weird, but also, I really want to try it,” you shrugged to Minho. 

“If you want to try it, I can put you in a headlock” he replied back with no hesitation. “I mean, I don’t think it will choke you or anything, but I am pretty strong so if you want to…” 

Before he could even finish his sentence, you quickly replied with a “Yes!” 

“I mean only if you are comfortable with it, if you don’t want to I mean we don’t have to” you rambled on. 

“I don’t mind as long as you are comfortable with it, just tap my arm if it’s too much.” He said, pausing the show and patting the spot next to him. You crawled to him, sitting on your knees right next to him. What you didn’t realize was how flushed Minho had become, he could feel his pants tighten a bit at the thought of him in his arms. 

“Can I sit in your lap you can do it from behind?” you asked innocently, your doe eyes looking up at him. He swore he groaned out loud, but he stopped himself, composing himself and just nodding. 

You climbed into his lap, your back facing his chest. You felt his arm wrap around your throat, your bicep slowly squeezing it. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay kitten?” and you just whimpered in response. This is the first time he’s ever called you that and you can feel yourself getting wet in his lap. 

You began to squirm, causing him to groan behind you. “Fuck, don’t start something you can’t finish.” 

“What if I want to start something?” you tilt your head up, trying to get a good look at your roommate's face. 

You had never realized how beautiful he was, you knew he was attractive. It was evident, he was one of the best-looking men you had ever met, but his beauty astonished you in that moment.

Before you could even say something, he flipped you around. “Fuck kitten, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do this. Seeing you in your tiny shorts and big t-shirts around the apartment. That one time you took my shirt and wore it around the house, I swear I was hard that entire day after seeing you.” 

You just giggled at him, “Oh baby, this is no laughing matter, maybe I should shut you up?” 

You just nodded up at him, as he slipped his fingers in your mouth. You began sucking on them, wrapping your tongue around both digits, wetting them with your saliva and he just groaned above you. “Fuck baby” he just groaned thinking about how well you would take his cock in your mouth. 

He slipped his digits out of your mouth, placing a kiss on your lips. One kiss became another and another, and then it turned into a heated make-out session. In the process, he had flipped you on top of him and you began grinding on his semi-hard cock. 

“Fuck baby you feel so good, but let’s get off the couch okay?” you just nodded at him, still feeling lightheaded from his mouth on yours. 

You both got up, him picking you up, tossing you onto his shoulder. Before you could protest, he began walking to his room. You began writhing on his shoulder, wanting to be put down. “Stop acting like a brat,” he said while smacking your ass. 

“Minho!” you shouted, eliciting a chuckle from him. “If you act good, I’ll take care of you, but if you act like a brat, I won’t let you cum.” You quickly shut up, allowing him to throw you on the bed. He hovered above you, placing kisses on your neck, and moving down to your thighs. 

He took off your sweatpants, leaving you only in your oversized shirt and panties. He began to lift your shirt only to see you not wearing a bra. “Had these out just for me, and I had no clue? What else are you hiding from me, baby?” He asked, sucking on one of your nipples causing you to moan. “You just wanted to act like a slut, hoping we did this, is that why?” 

“Yes Minho, just wanted you” you moaned again as he moved onto the other breast. He just groaned, you were good to him, too good. He moved down, kissing your stomach and then your thighs. You rubbed them together, wanting some sort of friction.  

“No, keep these open for me kitten, I want to see your sweet little cunt.” He said while pulling down your panties. “Fuck baby, this pussy is so wet, tell me who’s doing this to you.” 

“You are Minho, only you can do this to me.” you moaned as he liked a stripe against your pussy. His lips catch your clit, sucking on it causing your legs to shut. “Kitten, what did I just say?” 

“To keep my legs open for you.” You were hiding your face behind your hands, a bit ashamed of how wet you were for him, how much he turned you on. “So, let’s keep them open okay? You can be a good girl and do that for me can’t you?” 

You just nodded, opening your legs again. “Fuck, you taste better than any dessert you’ve ever made me.” He said while licking your pussy another time. “You are going to let me eat you for dessert whenever I need it aren’t you?” 

“Yes Minho, I’ll let you do anything to me” you moaned as he started putting his veiny fingers inside of you. He began fucking his fingers inside at a quick pace, still sucking on your clit and all you could do was moan. 

He hadn’t even put his cock in you and you could already feel yourself cumming. “Please Minho, too much, I’m gonna cum.”

“Then be a good kitten and cum on my fingers, then I’ll make you cum on my cock. You can take more than one round, can’t you baby?” 

“Yes, can be a good girl for Minho, please can I cum, please sir let me cum” you moaned as his fingers hit that particular spot in you causing you to go over the edge, your entire body shaking as you came over the edge, cumming on his fingers. 

“Minho, need your cock, please need it inside of me.” you pleaded and he was in awe. You had just cum, but you were still begging for his cock. He was going to have fun with you. 

“You just came and already need my cock? How much of a needy slut are you? You just want your hole filled at all times?” He scoffed at you. He was still fully dressed as you were fully naked underneath him. You pawed at his shirt and he just laughed. He took it off, along with his sweats. 

You could see how hard his dick was through his boxers, your eyes widening a bit, trying to hide your reaction by covering. He chuckled at your reaction, releasing his fat cock from his boxers, taking a condom out of his drawer, and tearing the foil with his mouth. 

“Yes, just a slut for you sir, I need you, need you in me.” You spread your cunt apart with your fingers, trying to show him where you needed him most and he just groaned. 

He slowly pushed his tip inside of you, knowing how eager you were. He was also eager, his dick hard as soon as you moaned his name the first time. “Fuck baby, this pussy is so tight, don’t know why I didn’t fuck it beforehand.”

He slowly pushed his dick inside of you, your cunt squeezing it tight, making it hard for him to fully still inside of you. “Baby I need you to relax so you can take my cock. You can be a good kitten for me and do that right?” 

You simply nodded, taking his fingers into your mouth once again, wrapping your lips around his digits, causing him to groan as he finally entered you fully. “Fuck baby, you feel even better than you taste.” You simply moaned, feeling so full as he was fully inside of you. 

“So good Minho, feel so full” you moaned, feeling so full of him you couldn’t help but clench around him. “Please move, I need you” You looked up at him, his fingers going back into your mouth and he couldn’t control himself. He began thrusting into you, causing you to moan around his fingers. 

“Fuck this pussy is so tight, gonna fuck you all around the apartment from now on. This pussy is mine and mine only, you got it?” You just nodded as he began thrusting into you faster. 

You were on the verge of cumming, but Minho pulled out before you could. Before you could protest, he flipped you around, your ass up and face at the end of his bed looking straight at the mirror in front of you. “I want you to see how pretty you look on my cock, how my cock is making you dumb, how good it is making you feel.” 

You felt yourself going dumb, the only thing on your mind was Minho and his cock. “Minho, fuck it feels so good.” you moaned, feeling him hit that spot inside of you. “Yeah, kitten? Look at who’s making you cum, look at who’s making you dumb on their cock.” 

“You are, you are making me feel this good” you moaned as his thrusts got harder. With one more thrust, you were cumming on his cock. 

“Fuck, this pussy is to die for” he groaned, continuing to thrust into you trying to get to his own high. After a few more thrusts, he could feel himself getting ready to cum. “Where do you want me baby?” 

“In my mouth,” you said with no hesitation. You wanted to taste him like he tasted out. “Fuck kitten, you are going to be the death of me” he took off the condom, wrapping his hand around his cock. With a tug of his cock, he came into your mouth. You swallowed all of it, showing him and he kissed your lips. 

You both fell back on his bed, him wrapping his arms around you as he covered you both with his blanket. Both of your clothes still splayed on the floor of his room. “That was… unexpected,” you said. 

“A good unexpected or bad?” he asked a bit scared of your response. “Definitely good,” you said while kissing his lips. He grinned, “You better cancel that date tomorrow because I’m the one taking you out tomorrow.” You just hummed, playing with his hair. 

Minho didn’t need to know that no one had actually asked for your number, you were just trying to make him make the first move. 

taglist: @sclassstay @minhosify

(my perm taglist is open, also sorry for forgetting to add my tag list, it just slipped my mind, so sorry)

[pbnbucks]

can you write something about meeting Caitlin because ur family are family friends and you two develop a relationship?

Caitlin x Reader!

What Happens In Bora Bora Stays In Bora Bora

word count : 1574

warnings : cussing, friends to enemy’s to lovers, somewhat leads to smut, jealousy

summary : your dad and caitlin’s dad worked together and made lots of money so when they had a scheduled buisness trip and decided to bring the whole family down you and caitlin where put to room together.

i made this at 6am so if it sucks my apologies!

your sitting in your cabana in Bora Bora waiting to be told the rooms suituation only to be hit with total disappointed “I just got off the phone with Brent and we decided you and caitlin will be staying in a cabana together while we are in Bora Bora” your family was close with the clark family because for generations they worked together in the family industry. you where close with Brent and Anne, along with their sons except their daughter caitlin. she often picked arguments with you and she didn’t bother hiding her hatred for you. nobody knew exactly why she hated you, your guy’s parents always thought it was because you where the same age (16) and similar in many ways and equally stubborn. although caitlin wasn’t always like this, when you first met when you where 4 and she was a sweet heart up until you guys where 14, thats when it all changed and compliments changed to snarky comments. something in her changed the way she viewed you she went from idolizing you and protecting you to being disgusting by you and filled with hatred towards you. but by the end of the trip it would all change because by the end of 3 weeks shared in a cabana in bora bora together something was bound to happen.

“do i seriously have to share a room with her i mean she hates me and i don’t want to deal with her the entire time” you say trying to convince your dad to make any change in the vacation arrangements. “actually it was her idea she wanted to share a room with you, wouldn’t let anybody else get the spot” great. her goal was to make the vacation terrible for me. “please dad im begging you its a trap her entire goal is to ruin my vacation” he just rolled his eyes at you “they will be here any minute so better hurry up and choose your side of the room.” you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. as soon as he walks out you hear her voice making small talk with your father, she has always kisses up to the adults and the second they turned a blind eye she completely changed. she of course walks in with a attitude already and waits for you to tell her the room arrangement “so i picked the left side of the room so that leaves you the right and i’ll probably go explore in about 30 minutes once im unpacked.” she walks past you making sure the shove against you, not hard but hard enough for you to notice. “look if you just forced yourself into being my roommate just to make my life hell ill gladly go find somebody to room with instead” hopefully trying to get her to quit whatever act she had going on but instead she just laughs at you “your not scary so just sit down princess, and i think i will join you on your little scavenger hunt” shes unbelievable.

TIME SKIP.

its now been 3 days that where full of hiding from caitlin making sure to be out by the time she was awake and come back when she was asleep. shes caught up to what you where doing but to entitled with her ego to question it so instead she drops subtle hints to inform you that she knows what your doing and to cut it out. but you genuinely have no want to argue with her. a good this is you met this girl Maddie on you trip, you brought her by your cabana once but it was extremely awkward with caitlin there, all of a sudden she became extremely possessive with you and even putting her arm around you saying that you where her best friend. you thought that maybe she just didn’t have friends back home and it would make sense with the way she acted.

you where brushing your hair getting ready to meet up with Maddie but instead caitlin walks in on you in the bathroom, “where are you going?” is she being serious? she treated you like shit for the past 3 days and all of a sudden wants to know where your going. “im going to go swimming with Maddie ill be back around 10.” she immediately shuts down you idea and tells you otherwise “no your not im tired of having to wait and stay up at night cause you want to go out with some girl all day and night.” “dude caitlin what the fuck are you even talking about right now, maybe act like a normal person on vacation and go make some friends clearly your lacking some.” she scoffs at your true, but mean comment. “im not lacking any friends nor do i need any, and you one to talk about friends in supposed to be your best friend and yet your blowing me off to hang out with some random girl” best friend? she wishes. “what are you talking about best friend? we are far from friends because you cant get your head out of your own ass. now if you will get out my way so i can hangout with my friend and enjoy my vacation away from you” you shove out the way not giving her the chance to even disagree with you and walk out the door only to greet maddie’s face as she is already there waiting for you, before she can even greet you, you drag her by the arm and run down the long hallway to the water. “im sorry caitlin was giving me a tough time and she was close to coming out and breaking the door down” she laughs thinking you where joking but only if she knew what you had to put up with. “i think she might be in love with you.” you cant believe the words that just came out of her mouth. “whats with everybody and trying to ruin my day.”

ANOTHER TIME SKIP

its now 10pm and you said your goodbyes to your friend as you parted ways only to be greeted with a locked door, you knock on the door begging caitlin to let you in turning the door knob hoping that she will listen but nothing works, your last hope is to say something you know would piss her off and give you a long night but you just deeply wanted to go to bed. “caitlin seriously let me in before i have to room with Maddie.” once you finish your sentence you immediately hear foot steps coming you way to have your door swing open greeting a angry cait, you push past her “seriously you locked me out? why cant you not be a asshole for one day” she rolls her eyes at you “me, im the asshole now? and stop bringing up Maddie i couldn’t give to fucks about your friend.” unbelievable “well clearly you did cause you let me in as soon as i mentioned rooming with her, and you know what i am going to room with her because thankfully she wouldn’t kick me out my own room.” as soon as you said that her face got red and she pressed you up against the door pushing you bodies close together and her forehead resting on yours “your. not. leaving. this. room. got it?” you didn’t know if it was the butterflies in your stomach or her hands gripping at your waste and her mouth and body extremely close to yours but you craved her touch and you wanted more and the only way you know how to get more was by pissing her off. “or what? you cant control me caitlin especially not with the way you act” there was only one thing you wanted to hear from her and it was for her to beg for you. after all these years of constant arguements someone who claims they hate you, ends up needing you so badly. “cmon cait i want to hear you beg for me to stay.” she hesitates hoping you would give up “ you can be serious, im not going to beg.” you just smile at her words “im serious and if you wont beg im rooming with Maddie.” she groans at your words “fine.” theres a long silence for her mentally trying to prepare herself for what shes about to say “please y/n, don’t go room with her.” there was those words you wanted to hear so badly although it wasn’t enough. something in you just clicked “aww is that really what you want baby?” her eyes widen staying their for a second before deciding her next move, no going back now. her lips attack yours and her hand that was on your hip now find your neck making you moan into the kiss, it was the shock you have because this is the first time in a while that she has shown affection for you. she pulls away to gather her breathe but before she pulls you in for more you stop her “y’know i think i have more control over you then you let me know” she gives you her little smirk shes known for “oh yeah? why don’t you show me princess? you up for a challenge?” maybe this was your chance of getting your relationship back, you couldn’t miss your opportunity “of course.”

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

~ Pride and Protection | JJK

Pairing: CEO!husband!Jungkook x writer!fem!wife!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, arranged marriage, secrets, feelings of yearning and uncertainty, food consumption, idiots in love, the in-laws make an appearance once more, talks about contract marriage, secrecy, lies, minor injury, a bit of blood, talks about having children, the have a moment! (let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: Your relationship with Jungkook was complicated while at the same time was the easiest thing in the world. However, after having taken three steps forward, you take five backwards as you learn that someone knows your secret and in order to protect Jungkook, you must make a choice. But would he let himself be protected with the only thing that would pain him greater than death itself?

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Hello everyone! I know I have taken ages to update this series but yesterday while in the shower I was able to solve a major plot hole so here we are! I really hope you will enjoy this part as we dive further into the complicated relationship that is marriage, buckle up darlings because this will take quite a different turn that what I have originally planned!

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

You awoke upon hearing a sudden noise. A gasp left your lips as you sat up on the bed, eyes roaming around the bedroom only to notice that you were alone in the large bed, your husband was nowhere to be found.

You quickly stood up and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and style your hair a bit. Without giving it much thought, you left the bathroom and walked to the kitchen.

What you saw made you chuckle a bit. You saw Jungkook crouching down on the floor while Bam walked around him excitedly.

"Bam, stop it. This is all your fault."

You giggled at your husband's scolding to the Dobermann and that seemed to catch his attention as he turned to look at you over his shoulder. His eyes were bigger than usual as you seemed to have caught him doing something he shouldn't. Like a scolded kid.

"(y/n), you're up. I... um."

Jungkook stood up and turned to face you, your eyes immediately went to the mess on the floor he was apparently trying to fix.

Over the white floor laid the vase you had placed your sunflowers from last night shattered with the nice flowers adorning the place in an almost artistic way.

"Bam broke it."

He said urgently. You lifted an eyebrow at your husband. A smile tugging at your lips. Your gaze shifted from the large dog sitting next to your husband and the man's adorably wide eyes.

"Of course, that's totally what happened."

You said with a bit of sarcasm in your words but Jungkook knew you weren't mad, your gaze had a softness in their (e/c) pools and a teasing smile was painted over your lips.

He sighed, looking down at his dog before returning to look at you.

"I wanted to move the vase from the dining table so that we could enjoy breakfast together but Bam rushed past me and I accidentally dropped it, I'm sorry."

You walked towards him, careful to not step in any of the shattered glass on the floor.

"It's okay, Kook. There's no need to apologise, it was just a vase, I can put the flowers somewhere else."

Jungkook stepped aside as you crouched down to pick up the sunflowers from the floor, careful so as to not cut yourself with the broken glass. His eyes followed you as you moved swiftly around the kitchen.

"Let me do it."

He said, grabbing the broom and dustpan from your hands when you returned. He didn't allow any room for you to deny it as he began sweeping the floor, carefully getting rid of all the glass. Bam scurried off to his house in the corner while you searched the cupboards for another vase to put your flowers.

The scene was peaceful, domestic even. And Jungkook found himself loving the small moment between you both, like a real married couple.

He put the broken glass in the bin and handed you back the broom and dustpan, you accepted the items with a smile but your eyes drifted to his hands circling them.

"Jungkook, you're bleeding."

He hadn't even registered the subtle pain up until now, you were fast enough to grab the cleaning objects and put them aside before your hands grabbed his larger left hand.

"I probably cut myself a moment ago, don't worry about it."

But the frown between your brows didn't disappear. You inspected the cut with prying eyes before you walked toward the sink, pulling him with you.

"We cannot leave it like that, Kook. It'll get infected if you don't clean it."

You didn't look at him while you said those words as you were focused on the running water of the sink falling over his cut. Jungkook watched you attentively, his eyes ran over your worried expression, noticing the concern in your eyes, how you bit your lower lip and how your brows were slightly furrowed. He couldn't help but find it cute.

With a soft towel you dried his hand with careful movements, mindful of his small wound. You didn't say another thing as you let go of his hand briefly while opening one of the kitchen cupboards. He watched as you stood on your tip toes and reached for a white box. You put it on the counter and opened it before grabbing Jungkook's hand once more.

"Why do you keep that in there?"

He asked softly, referring to the first aid kit hidden in the kitchen.

"I always have one in hand, in case I burn myself while cooking or sometimes a small cut happens too. It comes in handy."

He hummed in response, not quite processing the fact of your words as he was more distracted by the feeling of your delicate touch over his skin.

You applied some ointment over his cut on his index finger before wrapping a band-aid on it.

"There."

A soft smile graced your features as you let go of his hand, his skin feeling cold the next instant as you put the things back in the box and put it back where it was.

You didn't have time to turn around when you suddenly froze on the spot. A hand rested on your right shoulder and your breath hitched in your throat when you felt Jungkook's body pressed into your back, his other hand went to rest against the counter and you swallowed as he trapped you between him and the marble counter.

"You be careful. I don't want you to get hurt while you cook."

His words were rasped out, voice deep that made your insides quiver. Jungkook was even surprised of himself with such a bold move but he didn't dare move from where he stood. The warmth of your body made things to him, to his mind, to his heart. Things he hadn't felt before. Or at least, not all of them.

He lifted his left hand from the counter, moving his now bandaged finger in front of your face.

"It can hurt pretty bad."

You swallowed, mind going blank with all the possible things you could've said at that moment.

"Jungkook."

His name left your lips without you noticing it. As if it were on instinct that you wished to pronounce his name.

He hummed, resting his left hand over your own on the counter while his thumb began drawing circles on your shoulder. Your skin tingles where he touched you and your heart was hammering so hard inside your chest you thought he'd hear its frantic beating.

He began leaning into your ear, as if wanting to whisper the secrets of the universe to you and only you. You turned your head, looking at him so close. So intimate. A tension grew between you two. Something intangible, something that could only be felt with the heart.

Your lips almost touched his; gaze fixing between his eyes and his pink lips. Your breaths mingled together, the feeling of his body pressed to your own grounded you while at the same time let your mind loose.

Jungkook cursed under his breath when his phone began ringing. Popping the sweet bubble of innocence between you two. The warmth of his body disappeared the next second, making a shiver run down your spine at the sudden coolness of the apartment.

Jungkook answered the call in a sour mood, cursing the person in the other line for calling him when he nearly kissed you! Literally there couldn't have been a worse timing for that call. Then again, it wasn't as if he could stay mad at Hoseok for longer than 10 seconds. That man was a walking ray of sunshine.

You, on the other hand, stood rooted in your place. After having turned around, your back facing the cupboards, your eyes remained glued to Jungkook who paced back and forth in the large kitchen.

You didn't know what he was saying through the phone, you weren't paying attention. Your mind kept playing over and over again what had just happened between you and your husband.

Jungkook's voice enthralled you. Not because of the meaning of his words, you didn't know the latest updates from the company but it was the mere sound of his voice that mesmerised you.

It could be soft and sweet. Loving. Or it could be deep and harsh. Commanding. And you absolutely loved it. You watched as he grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl before hanging up.

"I have to go, (y/n). Something happened, we'll have breakfast together later, call me if you need anything."

He sent you a flashing smile before putting his shoes on in a hurry, grabbing his coat and leaving the flat. You blinked once then twice, feeling the silence of the apartment consume you. A sigh left your lips, you were still processing what had just happened between you and Jungkook only for your husband to storm out of the door the next second.

"Bye, Jungkook."

You whispered to the air, as if needing to say it so that you could continue with your day. You ran a hand over your forehead, his husky voice repeating itself in your mind, you were still intoxicated with his cologne and the memory of his body against your own made you tingle with ecstasy.

You smile, chewing at your bottom lip as you sit down on the stool.

Did -did we just have a moment?

"Where's Jimin?"

Jungkook asked his friend and coworker, Namjoon. The shorter man hadn't been seen around and it was already half past three in the evening. The older man cleared his throat, putting some files on Jungkook's desk before he spoke.

"I think he took the day off, said something about having to visit someone. I'm not aware of the details."

Jungkook hummed, eyes roaming over the papers his friend just brought him.

"Namjoon, do you think you can handle today's meeting with the shareholders? I'll pick up my wife from her appointment with her editor."

The other man nodded, taking out his phone to put it in his calendar.

"How are things going on? Between you and (y/n)."

Jungkook sighed at the question, was his married life the only gossip going around in the office?

"Jimin-ah asked me the exact same question the other day, hyung. But to satiate your curiosity, I think we are progressing."

Namjoon smiled, picturing in his head how Jimin probably pestered Jungkook to spill the beans about his love life.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, Kook. You deserve it."

The younger man smiled softly at the thought of you. Your presence, even in his mind, was enough to soothe his soul and calm his heart while butterflies flew wildly in his stomach.

"Thanks, hyung."

Namjoon bowed slightly at Jungkook, not because of his age but because of him being his boss. Your husband was left alone in his office the next moment. Leaving him with his thoughts, his racing heart, his yearning soul.

He wanted to get back to you, already addicted to your presence, your voice. Your mere existence was enough to captivate him. He needed it. Almost to the point of needing a drug to keep his sanity. As if he was sick and you were his cure.

Your entire being, your heart was a sanctuary for his love. A love so pure only you were to receive. Only you were to claim it as your own. Jungkook wished to get back to the apartment, imagining you sitting on the couch with a soft blanket over your legs and your laptop resting on the blanket. The image in his mind made him smile.

He remembered what had happened last night. How your body had felt against his own. The way you both cuddled together on the couch, how his hand found yours underneath the covers, he broke a barrier at that moment with his touch. He crossed another line between you both, another step towards having your heart in his hands.

And then there was his silent confession. His whispered words that hung in the silence of the flat as darkness drowned the place. Jungkook couldn't keep those words in him any longer, he had to say them. Say them but you weren't meant to hear them. Not now at least.

He sighed. So many thoughts lived in his mind, so many wishes rested in his heart and it made his soul heavy. Heavy with need and love. With yearning for something that he could touch but maybe he couldn't keep.

Love was complicated, Jungkook understood that now. But that didn't mean he would let the small spark that existed between you and him die. No. He'd make it a burning flame of love and passion. A fire that warmed but didn't burn. A beautiful spectre of perfection.

He didn't know that in that exact moment, he was living in your mind as well. You sat in a small cafe, eyes lost in the distance. Not even watching the cars pass by on the street as your mind replayed last night's events.

You remembered how Jungkook had given you your flowers. Those beautiful sunflowers that made you smile widely. Even now, as you reminisce on the bouquet, you subconsciously smile. The smell was engraved in your memories and how your heart skipped a beat when he had presented the gift to you in an almost shy way made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

And then, there was what had happened this morning. How he pinned you to the kitchen's counter, the way he towered over you and he trapped you between him. Your senses were invaded by Jungkook and you blushed at the thought.

Your train of thought got interrupted when Mrs. Ming arrived. You shook your head softly to get rid of the thoughts about your husband before you stood up and greeted her with a smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Ming. How have you been?"

She was your editor, a middle aged woman with a kind heart and great knowledge. She sat down in front of you, putting her purse next to her as her warm eyes locked with your own.

"I've been fine, (y/n), thanks for asking. And you?"

You nodded at her before signalling for a waiter to take your order. She ordered a slice of apple pie and a cup of coffee while you only asked for a coffee. Once the kind waiter left, she spoke once more.

"So... I read your first draft. (y/n), I really loved the story."

You chuckled softly, allowing her to continue.

"Even when that kind of plot is widely used, I do believe you described it completely differently from other stories that are about arranged marriages."

Subconsciously, your right hand searched for your wedding band on your ring finger. You traced the band softly, mind going back to Jungkook.

"I'm glad you liked it, of course I know it needs a lot of polishing before going live but that means a lot, Mrs. Ming."

She smiled at you, that warm smile tha soothed your nerves when it came to your work and reputation as a well-known writer.

"Send me your next draft when you are done, (y/n). We'll go from there and try not to rush it. You know how these things work."

You nodded at Mrs. Ming's wise words before bowing softly at her. Jungkook hadn't texted you so you assumed he was in a meeting. He had been quite busy this past few weeks and your heart clenched at his stress and frustration over the company that would eventually be his.

"Would you like me to give you a lift?"

You smiled kindly at her sweet offer but shook your head.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Ming. I want to stop in a nearby shop and buy something for my husband."

"Very well, text me if you need me to check anything from your draft and believe it when I tell you it has very solid pillars already."

You couldn't fight the smile that grew on your face upon her compliment over your work. Writing was your passion, what you lived for. If you couldn't write, there was no point in experiencing life the way you did it.

"Thank you so much, take care."

"You too, (y/n)."

And with that, you parted ways with the older woman who you have grown fond of. You sighed to yourself, walking in the other direction to make your idea of a surprise a reality for your handsome husband who lavished you in luxury and a soft affection. You wanted to reciprocate those gifts, even a little. At least try. At least welcome him with something you hope he'd liked.

Your features were soft as you paraded over the pavement, your mind went back to Jungkook, your sweet and loving husband. The memories of him were cascading over you like a soft drizzle on an autumn day. It made you sigh in content, quickening your pace as you got closer to the store you had ordered your gift from.

The bell over the door rang above you as you entered the old jewellery shop. The sudden smell of dried roses reached your senses as you looked around the small yet cosy shop you were in.

An elderly looking man came from behind the counter with a gentle expression over his aged features.

"Hello, miss. What can I do for you today?"

You stepped forward and answered him. You clutched your purse in your hold, nervous as it was the first time you were to buy something for Jungkook. you had gifted him other things, but this was different. It meant something different.

"Good evening. I actually ordered a designed watch and I was told I could come today to pick it up."

The man's eyes sparkled as he remembered your order you had placed over the phone. It didn't matter how much it would cost you but you had wanted to give your husband not only an item he could wear but something to remind him of you, of your relationship.

"Ah, yes. I remember now. Mrs. Jeon, isn't it?"

You nodded, biting your lip in an unconscious way as the man bent down behind the counter and rose once more holding a box in his hands. You took a step closer and suppressed a gasp as your eyes landed on the beautiful watch with black leather straps. The watch on itself had a golden outline and the numbers were marked by simple lines also made of golden material. The little clock hands were also in that same beautiful golden colour while they were thin and delicate. Elegant.

You picked it up with gentle movements and turned it around, reading the engraving on its back and smiling at just how beautiful it had come out. You were sure Jungkook would love it.

"It's beautiful. Thank you so much."

The man smiled at your happiness and received with both hands your card to pay for the beautiful gift. He was also kind enough to pack the watch in a lovely box with a silver bow on top of it. You put the black box in your purse and thanked the owner with a soft bow before you left the cute store.

You began walking back to the coffee shop where you met with Mrs. Ming because Jungkook had told you he'd come pick you up after he was done with some meeting.

However, just as you were rounding the corner of the block where the coffee shop was, a black car parked next to you. You didn't have time to panic as the window rolled in and you saw your mother-in-law sitting in the back seat.

"Get in, (y/n). We have things to discuss."

Her demanding tone made a shiver run down your spine as you clutched your purse tighter against your body. You were going to protest, saying you had things to do but her glare was enough for you to swallow your words. You didn't say anything but obeyed her commanded request with rigid movement. When you were seated in the car and the door closed behind you, the chauffeur at the front started the engine and began driving away.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Jeon?"

You asked out of politeness. However, the memory of her demand at dinner was still fresh in your mind. The feelings were still there, the bitterness of her request and the frustration in your heart were still open for the world to see.

She didn't say anything as she grabbed a file next to her before handing it to you.

"You are aware of why me and my husband chose you to become Jungkook's wife, are you not?"

You nodded, still confused about all that was happening. She sounded serious about whatever topic she had to discuss with you. Even more, she looked angry too.

"(y/n), we promised to make you a successful writer, which I must say, we have accomplished in a transparent way."

You looked at her, not opening the file in your hands as your heart raced in your chest. With nerves, with fear, with anxiety. Does she- does she know?

"In exchange for your success in your career you were to become my son's wife and give him an heir."

You swallowed, feeling a lump grow in your throat. As if she were suffocating you with her cold gaze.

"Mrs. Jeon, I-"

She cut you off as she raised her hand in the air.

"I know everything, girl. Everything."

Tears clouded your vision, your hands shook despite you trying to stop them from trembling.

"I'm sorry."

You whispered, fearing with your entire being what she'd say to you next. Your heartstrings were pulled by fate's dark grip. You kept your tears to yourself, not allowing them to flow and leave the cage that was your body.

You were ashamed of yourself, you felt dirty upon being caught in your lie, in your secret. But you needed the money, you needed to progress in your career and your in-laws had offered you that opportunity in a silver tray for you to take. Even when you were risking more than your life while accepting that deal.

Mrs. Jeon scoffed humorlessly at you, her eyes trained on the file that was gripped in your trembling hands.

""Sorry" is not going to fix this. Did you really think we wouldn't find out?

You sniffled, the lump in your throat preventing you from speaking. From defending yourself, words failed you when you needed them the most.

"I want you to divorce my son."

Her words stunned you to the point that you turned to look at her with wide eyes, your heart was in your throat as a single tear left your eye and rolled down your cheek slowly.

"I can't."

You whispered, your body preventing you from speaking any louder. From sadness, frustration, anger. You couldn't get the words out.

"You must. If you will not give Jungkook what he deserves, let him have the opportunity of building his life and not wasting his youth with a woman that would always hold him back."

You closed your eyes. trying to calm yourself a bit. You nearly gasped when you felt the woman's hand over your left one and you looked down at what would have been a sympathetic touch if it weren't for her greedy wishes. Your eyes were trained on your wedding ring, almost as if it mocked you.

"It's for the best, (y/n). Think about Jungkook. Think about all that he'd lose if he continues to be tied to you. He deserves a chance with someone who would make him really happy."

The car came to a sudden stop and you looked outside only to notice you were in front of your apartment complex. You sighed, your hands clutched the file in your hands, already knowing what was inside it for Mrs. Jeon to confront you this way. It made you shudder internally.

"Think about Jungkook, (y/n). It is him who would end up hurt in the end."

You looked at her with dead eyes, refusing to spill your tears in front of such a cruel woman. You didn't say anything, yet your heart was heavy as you exited the car, leaving the file behind. Wishing it was that easy to leave your past behind as well.

With heavy steps you made your way into the luxurious building where your shared home with your husband rested. You wiped your tears while you were alone in the lift, feeling the ride up longer than usual.

You took out your phone while wiping the tears cascading down your cheeks that you could no longer hold in. You turned it on, putting in your wedding anniversary date to unlock the device before you found Jungkook's contact and sent him a quick text, letting him know you were home and that he didn't have to worry about picking you up.

You pressed send and the elevator doors opened and you walked along the empty corridor until you reached your door. In an almost mechanical way you typed the password, the sound of the door unlocking fell on deaf ears as it opened, you stepped inside and closed it with a light push.

With a heavy sigh, you dropped your purse and phone on the couch before you walked towards the bedroom. Your heart was heavy with the words your mother-in-law had spoken to you a mere moment ago. It felt selfish to stay with your husband yet it was cruel to leave just like that.

The greatest fear in your soul was for Jungkook to know the truth as well. Perhaps if you left in silence, his mother would keep your secret to herself.

A shudder racked through your body at the single thought of leaving your husband behind. Your man, your love. The door to your shared bedroom closed behind you as you allowed yourself to drown in your thoughts and tears, the product of your own decisions.

Jungkook was in the middle of a meeting when his phone buzzed as it rested on the table. He was quick enough to read your name on the notifications before the screen went dark again. His fingers itched to grab the device and read your message. His heart pounded at the thought of you texting him, wanting to talk to him.

With a discreet movement he grabbed his phone and pulled it under the large table, the voices of the directors dying down in his mind as he read your text.

Something stirred within him at the coldness of your words, at the lack of emojis and sweet greetings. It was just a short message, delivering its purpose yet he knew there was something wrong in order for you to send such a message buried in a pile of ice that felt like a dagger between what had been growing in your relationship with Jungkook.

He stood up, catching the attention of the men and women seated around the glass table.

"Excuse me."

No-one spoke a word as he left the room, not minding the curious gazes over his form nor the questioning looks on his people's faces.

Once outside, he read your text again, his lips pressed together as the words repeated themselves over and over again in his loud mind.

'Jungkook, I'm already home. Mrs. Ming gave me a ride. Don't bother about picking me up later.'

That was what you had written to him. Your coldness and dismissal of his attentions to you pulled at his heartstrings. He called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it rang and rang until it led to voicemail.

He sent you a text, asking if you were alright, if something had happened. They got sent, but you didn't read them. Worry began etching on his chest as many thoughts raced through his head. Maybe your phone had died and you sent him that text so as not to worry him?

Yet his heart screamed at him to go home, find you, see you with his very eyes and confirm you were alright.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up...."

Jungkook mumbled to himself as he dialled your number for the last time; it went to voicemail and he cursed under his breath before his feet were carrying him through the corridor and down the stairs. He didn't have time to take the lift as his heart raced with each step he took.

Time was slower than usual yet at the same time it raced against him and his strongest desire that was to get to you.

His car was speeding through the streets, he feared something bad had happened to you, that you were hurt in some way. The thought scared him to death. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly in order of keeping his hands from shaking with nerves, with fear, with desperation, with frustration. With love. With urge. His emotions and thoughts were a muddy concoction that blurred his senses and made his heart ache.

Jungkook ran up the apartment complex, the lift ride taking centuries to go up to his floor. He practically ran through the hallway before his fingers quickly typed the password; the door was yanked with force fueled by his thumping heart only to be met with a numbing silence drowning the place.

He looked around, not even Bam was in his house, running to receive him like any other day. Spotting your purse on the couch, he went there with urgent steps only to find your phone next to it as well with all his missing calls and unread texts in your notifications. He lifted your purse, searching for some clue about what had happened, about your coldness, about your strange text.

A black box tied with a silver bow fell from your purse upon its movement. Jungkook frowned, picking it up in his hands as he eyed it with curiosity. His fingers were about to untie the ribbon but he halted in his action when he heard a whine coming from the bedroom. It was Bam's cry. And then came a soft sniffle that hadn't he been alert, he'd have missed it.

Jungkook put the box on the coffee table before he walked over the hallway and towards where your shared bedroom was. His palm pushed the door open and he nearly gasped at what he saw.

"(y/n)?"

You froze in your movement when you heard your name being called by the unmistakable voice of your dear husband. You turned around, your eyes meeting his as you stood frozen in the middle of the large bedroom.

His heart clenched when he saw tears in your eyes, your cheeks were wet and your lips were pouty. Your hands were shaking as you held your jewellery box.

"What are you doing?"

He asked, his voice so soft, so patient. Yet you were able to read the underlines of curiosity and hurt over his words as his eyes travelled across the bedroom.

You were packing your stuff.

"Jungkook."

His name escaped your lips like a prayer, a verse of a poem your soul found no rhyme with. Your missing treasure that you had to let go before ever having him in your arms. You husband. Your love.

Your jewellery box slipped from your hands, landing dryly over the grey carpet as its contents escaped the little box and scattered around. You swallowed, never breaking eye contact with Jungkook as his long legs carried him towards you.

He panicked as he watched you be in such an estate of distress. Bam laid in your shared bed, watching you with sad eyes as whine filled the room.

A shuddering breath escaped through your lips when Jungkook's hands rested on your shoulders. His eyes were filled with worry and want, of sadness and confusion and a million other things you weren't able to grasp.

"What happened?"

You bit your bottom lip, trying to stop its quivering. Tears leaked from your eyes and he wanted to wipe them so desperately he felt his fingers would turn to ash if he didn't dry your tears. You hated yourself for what you were about to say to him, for how you were going to break his heart; hurt his precious and sweet soul.

The wedding band on your finger was suddenly too heavy for you to carry. Tainted with guilt, with shame. Lightened by love and a dream that was now disipaiting like fog on an early spring day.

You looked into your husband's eyes with thousands of emotions before you spoke words that made his heart crumble to pieces. You watch the hurt flash over his doe eyes and his hands tightened around your shoulders.

"I want to divorce you, Jungkook."

~Masterpost

December/19/2023

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to hear out your ideas and theories about the outcome of this story!

Drabbles are open for this au! My inbox is open, darlings!

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 52)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Triggers, Smut

Despite Mark's persistence however, Sean declined his offer for now, wanting to win you over fair and square, but when Mara's birthday came finally around, he was in two minds about it.

It was a Saturday morning and you were up early, preparing everything for the party. Mara was in her playpen, occupied with her toys, while you were rushing around the house, making sure everything was in order for your guests.

You were dressed in a casual summer dress and your hair was tied up in a messy bun, but you still felt self-conscious when the doorbell rang, and Sean stood there with a big smile on his face. 

He had not been around Mara before but arrived early to help you with hanging  decorations and preparing the food. "Hey, you look great," he said, handing you a bunch of sunflowers making you smile softly.

"Thanks, so do you," you replied, admiring his button-down shirt and jeans even though the moment was short-lived.

You led the way into the living room where you had a designated area for the kids' party. "I thought it would be best to keep it separate from the rest of the house so we don't end up with sticky fingers all over," you chuckled to yourself.

"A room full of toddlers, huh? Sounds fabulous," Sean  joked, looking slightly nervous at the sight of the colorful balloons and animal balloon sculptures scattered around the room.

"Oh, don't worry. They're all really well-behaved, trust me. Mara is actually the most boisterous one of them all," you laughed, feeling yourself relax a little more in Sean's presence.

"That's good to know," he said, taking a deep breath with a nervous smile on his face. "So, uhm, just checking, what did you tell people about us? Because, I know that your ex's family is coming and all, so  I just don't want to cause any awkwardness or something," Sean inquired, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"I told them that you are a friend of mine, who has been helpful lately, and that you are coming over to help me set up and all. I didn't mention anything about us being together, you know?" you told him, feeling the need to reassure him once again.

"Yeah, I figured as much. I just wanted to make sure," he said, nodding his head in response.

"I am sorry Sean, it's just, Cillian wouldn't even agree to you being here, around Mara, unless I kept this platonic and I can understand him too," you told him sympathetically, understanding the frustration he was feeling.

"Why do you care so much about what he wants

, though? Surely he should be happy for you, if you have found someone else that you like?" he asked, a slight note of confusion in his voice.

"Sometimes, it's complicated Sean. Cillian and I are working through things and, to tell you the truth, since you and me aren't in a relationship, I too want to keep this platonic for Mara's sake. It would just confuse her, you know," you  tried to explain, being as honest as you could.

Sean didn't seem totally satisfied with your answer, but he understood where you were coming from and decided to drop the subject for now. You both worked in silence for a while, hanging decorations and setting up tables, but there was an underlying tension between you.

As you were arranging the food on the table, the doorbell rang and you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought of Cillian's mother arriving. However, it was just your best friend Emma. 

"Where is my favorite Babygirl?" she  grinned, taking Mara from her playpen and blowing raspberries on her chubby cheeks.

You couldn't help but laugh at the sight of your best friend, who had known you since you were in high school, playing with Mara. You two had been through so much together and you were grateful to have her in your life.

"I have a super cool present for you,"  she winked, pulling a wrapped gift from her bag.

"Oh my god, Emma, you didn't have to. But I am so excited to see what it is," you grinned, helping Mara opening her first present for the day, inside of which was a beautiful stuffed giraffe  , complete with a pair of pink and white crocheted booties.

"Gigi," Mara smiled, which was what she had called the giraffes at the zoo , her favorite animal.

"I know. Isn't she beautiful?" she said, pointing at the stuffed animal in Mara's arms, already covered with enthusiastic kisses from your daughter.

"Best friend ever," you smiled, hugging Emma tightly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Emma said warmly before turning to Sean, introducing herself for the second time around, the first time having been at the nightclub where you had met him.

"Is Cillian okay with this?"  Emma asked, eyeing Sean up and down.

"Yes, I cleared it with him," you told her which is when, again, the doorbell rang and more guests  began to arrive one by one.

Sean remained helpful and kind, keeping his distance from your friends but assisting where needed. You watched him from across the room as he chatted with some people, sipping on his beer, wearing a polite smile on his face. He looked so at ease that you almost forgot about your complicated arrangement until, an hour into the party, the door went off once more.

"I will get it," Sean offered, seeing how busy you were with Mara and her toddler friends.  You nodded appreciatively, relieved to have some extra help at the party. As he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of Cillian who was meant to be in the UK, filming. 

Surprised, Sean took a step back while Cillian stood in the doorway, his eyes narrowed as he looked at Sean.

"Sean," Cillian said with restrained hostility as he walked inside. 

Sean tried to keep his cool but couldn't help feeling nervous at Cillian's presence.

"Cillian, what are you doing here?" you asked, surprised, as you made your way over to him.

"Well, I decided to surprise Mara for her birthday. I'm only here for the day though. I got to go back tonight," Cillian explained, unable to take his eyes off Sean and you could sense the tension in the air growing with every passing second.

"Well, I am glad you could make it," you said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Mara is over there if you want to say hi to her," you gestured towards the living room where the children's party was happening.

Cillian hesitated for a moment before nodding and making his way towards the noise and laughter emanating from the other room. 

"There she is," he smiled, picking up Mara and kissing her chubby cheeks. "My little princess," he said as Mara beamed at her father and hugged him tightly. "Happy birthday Sweetie," he told Mara who went straight for Cillian's hair.

"Dada," she grinned, running her tiny hands over the shaved sides on his head, which was clearly a haircut she wasn't too fond about.  "I've missed you Babygirl," Cillian told her affectionately, noticing how Mara's eyes brightened at the sight of him. "Missed me too, huh?" he teased, receiving an adorable giggle in response and, just as you watched this tender moment unfold, you felt a swirl of emotions in the pit of your stomach. You were glad that Mara had her father there for her birthday while Sean, on the other hand, seemed displeased. 

It was clear that he felt uncomfortable around Cillian, and you couldn't blame him. After all, you were still unsure about where you stood with both men, and you knew that keeping a clear mind would be crucial to avoid making any unnecessary mistakes.

As the party progressed, you found yourself caught in a never-ending cycle of keeping a close eye on Mara and making sure that Sean was relaxed and enjoying himself while Cillian socialised with his family and the people around him. 

Mara clung to her father, clearly pleased to see him  and looking adorable in her brand new party dress, complete with a matching headband and shoes. Her laughter filled the air as she played with the other children, who seemed equally delighted to have Cillian there as he was fabulous with young kids, engaging with them in their games and being purposely silly and entertaining. 

Sean, on the other hand, remained somewhat reserved, occasionally joining in conversations but mostly standing off to the side, observing everything. You caught his gaze several times throughout the party, noticing the steady glance he gave you, the subtle twitching of his lips, and the raised eyebrow.

It was as if he could see the turmoil brewing within you, sensing the conflict that raged on inside. You wondered if he knew that you were struggling with your feelings. To what extent and in what ways was he aware of your internal struggle? His knowledge about you had been growing with each passing day, and that realization terrified you. He had been observant and intuitive, but was stopped short of fully understanding what was going on within you. You felt safe, yet vulnerable, anticipating the reckoning that was surely coming.

Cillian's attention seemed focused solely on Mara as she was having the time of her life, laughing joyously and blissfully oblivious to the drama unfolding between her parents. The laughter and chatter of the other children echoed throughout the room, punctuated by sporadic fits of giggles that seemed amplified because of the sheer innocence of their pleasures.

"She is growing up so fast," Cillian murmured, standing up from the floor and watching as Mara sat amongst the other kids her age, playing with blocks. "And yet, I feel like I haven't been here for any part of it lately," he added softly, the regret in his voice unmistakable as he turned his gaze toward you.

"I should have declined that role, Y/N. I've missed so much," he sighed, his eyes searching your face for any hint of understanding. "Only being here every fortnight isn't good enough," he told you, not knowing that Sean was listening in, and you said nothing for a moment, merely holding his gaze as you reflected on his words.

"Life happens, Cillian," you said finally, opting to keep your tone light and neutral to avoid causing any unnecessary drama. "This is your career and we knew this before we brought Mara into this world. In fact, we talked about the logistics of it many times," you  explained gently, trying to make him understand, knowing that this was an important point for him.

"I know, but I would be lying if I said that I didn't miss seeing her every second day or so," Cillian sighed, his eyes softening, "It's just, I don't. It's hard I suppose," he  admitted, looking away briefly before turning back to meet your gaze.

"You know, after my final exams next week and the wedding the week after, Mara and I could stay in Liverpool for a bit," you proposed, thinking that it would be good for Mara to have more time with her father. "After filming, you could spend some time with her, just for an hour or so, and I could take her to the zoo over there and all the other cool places during the day while you are on set,"  you added enthused, wanting Mara to have a good relationship with her father.

Cillian looked surprised but also pleased at the idea. "Really? That would be great, Y/N. Not just for Mara, but for me too," he admitted, smiling at you fondly. "I could rent you a unit and car and you could cruise around with Mara during the day. Maybe the two of you could even visit me on set, unless you think that's weird,"  Cillian offered, taking another sip of his beer.

You shook your head and smiled at him. "No, not weird at all. Unless it's weird for you," you said, seeing how you were no longer together and Mara's visit could even affect his performance on set.

"I think it would be fine. I would love to see her, even if it's just for a little while," he replied with a smile, touching your arm affectionately. You noticed the way Sean was watching you, the subtle tightening of his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes. You pulled your arm away, feeling suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Alright, let's plan it out then," you  said, changing the subject before Cillian could say anything else. "I'll call you next week and we can arrange everything."

Cillian nodded, seemingly satisfied with your response. "Sounds good," he said before making his way back to Mara while you went and stood next to Sean who was nursing a beer. 

"I should go," Sean said after a little while, breaking the silence and you were too busy to notice that he was struggling internally.

"Of course, you don't have to stay," you said, offering him an easy exit.

Sean hesitated for a moment before nodding and making his way towards the door.

You followed him, feeling a sense of guilt wash over you. You had known that inviting Sean to the party would make things complicated, but you hadn't expected it to be this difficult.

"I am sorry Sean. I didn't mean for things to get so awkward," you said softly, as you stood by the entrance.

"It's fine. I knew what I was getting myself into, although I didn't expect HIM to come," Sean replied,  his voice low and gruff as he looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, sadness, and something else that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"I know, but he is Mara's father and I am glad he came, for her," you  said, your voice barely audible as you stood just a few feet away from him, feeling the tension between you grow thicker.

Sean sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair, looking you in the eye for a long moment, before replying, "I know, you're right, and I should just leave. But, I hate to admit it, his presence makes me feel like you still belong to him and it bothers me," he admitted and, with that,  the tension between the two of you grew palpable like a storm on the horizon.

Feeling the weight of the situation bearing down upon you, you glanced back into the room, wishing that Cillian could somehow disappear, like a mirage in the desert heat, leaving both you and Sean alone, untouched by the web of complications that had ensnared you both. But, you knew better.

"I belong to no one Sean," you  spoke softly, feeling a sickness rise in your throat at the thought. "Not to Cillian, or you either. I have a life of my own to live."

Your words hung heavy in the humid air, letting the weight of their meaning sink in. Sean looked at you with a troubled gaze, unsure of how to respond.

"I will call you tomorrow?" he then simply asked, causing a flash of confusion in your mind.

"Sure, I would appreciate that," you managed to say before Sean disappeared and drove off  in his car. You returned to the party, feeling lost and confused, trying to shake off the awkward energy that lingered between you and Sean.

Sean, on the other hand, made a call to his friend Mark. "Fuck morals. I am done playing nice. Give me all the dirt you can find on him," he demanded, wasting no time to beat around the bush.

Tags:

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

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

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

[mouseymilkovich]

Nicotine & Tangerines | Carmandy | Chapter One

masterlist | playlist | pinterest board | next chapter

Fic Summary: Mandy always had one absolute top rule that sat above all else for her line of work — never fall in love with a client. Though when she gets hired to be a companion for chef Carmen Berzatto, that proves to be easier said than done.

Chapter Summary: Richie introducing Carmy to a mysterious girl he claims is a close friend, when in reality, Mandy was hired by Richie to keep Carmy company— what could possibly go wrong? | Carmy Berzatto x Mandy Milkovich — The Bear x Shameless Crossover (part of my Shameless Bear Universe!)

Content Tags: Claire mentioned a few times, lil bit of drinking, Mandy has a switchblade, anxiety Carmy duh

Important Info: Generally takes place in the time of The Bear S3 and onward (obviously a few years after Shameless atp)

Chapter One: Scar-Crossed Lovers

Word Count: 2.5k

It was early in the morning, Mandy was on one of her days off. She'd just landed back in Chicago the night before, and was checked in at a nice hotel. She checked her business email, as she did even on her off days, and noticed an email from a Richard Jerimovich.

SUBJECT: New Client

Miss Milkovich,

My name is Richie Jerimovich, and I was wondering if you did long-term work in companionship? My friend's been lonely and frankly a little mean since his relationship ended and he stopped smoking. In short, he's been a fucking asshole, pardon my language.

I think you'd be excellent company for him. You seem, for lack of a better term, like a total badass. He needs someone like that, someone who won't take his shit like the big fucking baby he is — pardon my language... again.

Anyways, if you're interested, please get back to me ASAP so we can make our arrangements. I don't want him to know I'm doing this, I want this to seem like it's happening naturally. He'd probably ring my neck if he knew I was hiring someone for him.

Thank you for reading,

Richard Jerimovich

Well, that was certainly... odd. Still, a client was a client, so it was worth checking out. To be fair, she'd done weirder for clients before... so, this was one of the more tame requests she'd gotten... some people were absolute freaks.

Mandy looked into Richie online, he seemed like a legitimate person, so she emailed back.

SUBJECT: RE: New Client

Hi Mr. Jerimovich,

Thank you for reaching out! I'd be glad to meet up with you to discuss further details about being a companion for your friend.

I'm currently staying at the Ritz-Carlton, I would be more than happy to meet at the bar there to discuss over drinks. I'm free this evening around 7pm if you'd like to come then.

Hope to see you then,

Mandy Milkovich

So, the time was set. Richie had agreed to meet Mandy that night, and they discussed the details of the whole thing. The whole "being hired for companionship" thing wasn't a foreign concept to Mandy, she'd done it a few times before, but it like Richie mentioned, he was after something more long-term for this friend of his.

"You seem like a real classy gal, Mandy." Richie commented with a little smile, sipping a whiskey.

"Would you believe I'm from the south side?" Mandy asked with a little laugh.

Richie nearly spit out his drink. "No shit? That's impressive, seein' someone from the south side get to the level you have. Don't see that very often."

"I know!" Mandy laugh. "Usually all you hear about is the bad."

"Very true." Richie laughed softly.

"Especially with my family — christ, extra especially my older brother, Mickey..."

After some more small talk, it was time to make concrete plans for the next day. It was simple; Mandy was to go to The Bear as a "special guest" of Richie's, he'd introduce her to Carmy, she'd hang around for dinner service afterwards.

┈

The morning of, it was go time. Mandy got ready, heading towards the restaurant. The area looked vaguely familiar to her — but, this was the city she grew up in, so almost everything looked vaguely familiar.

Inside the restaurant, Richie was hyping Carmy up to meet the "special guest" in question.

"What kinda special guest are you talkin' about, Rich?" Carmy muttered, prepping for the night's new menu.

"She's a classy gal, an old friend of a friend. You don' know her." Richie said with a casual shrug. "She'll be here any minute to meet'cha, Carm."

"If you're trying to set me up on a blind date, cousin, I swear to fuckin'—"

"Relax, cousin! Not a blind date." Richie replied, tossing his hands up in defense. It wasn't technically a lie.

Mandy was let into the restaurant, wearing a nice but casual dress, heels that would've made her tower over Carmy — though, she was already taller than him.

"Ah! There she is!" Richie said, waving to her from the window that separated the kitchen and dining room. "Mandy!"

The moment Mandy walked into the kitchen and saw Carmy, she practically felt her heart stop. No way.

"What the fuck?" She whispered, eyeing Carmy cautiously.

Richie and Carmy exchanged a glance, then Richie smiled nervously at Mandy.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Is this some... cruel fucking joke or something?" Her words were cold and bitter, something Richie hadn't expected, and it confused the hell out of Carmy.

Neither of them had any idea what she was talking about.

"Hello?! Seriously, what the fuck?! Lip, what the hell kind of shit are you trying to pull, here?!" Mandy demanded, eyes like daggers as she stared at Carmy.

"Um, Lip?" Carmy asked, sounding and looking so genuinely confused. "Who... what are you talking about?"

"Lip Gallagher, I know that fucking face anywhere." She spat back. "You're seriously telling me that you're not him?"

"Mandy Milkovich, meet Carmen Berzatto." Richie intervened, motioning calmy to Carmy. "We've never heard of this 'Lip Gallagher' guy, sweetheart, honest."

Mandy groaned and took out her phone. She dug for a minute, finding an old picture of her and Lip together.

Carmy's eyes widened in surprise when he looked at the picture. "That's... freaky. But, uh, I'm... pretty sure I was in Copenhagen, whenever this was taken."

"Well, this is sufficiently awkward." Richie muttered.

The awkwardness was broken by Sydney, who came with printed out versions of the night's menu and placed them in front of Carmy.

"Here you go, chef." She nodded, then looked at Mandy. "Who's this?"

"Syd, this is Mandy Milkovich. Old friend of a friend, I was introducing her to Carm." Richie muttered, then looked at Sydney for a moment.

"Seriously, am I on fucking Punk'd or something?" Mandy asked, reaching in the front of her dress and pulling something out—

Oh, that's a switchblade.

"Woah, woah! Sweetheart, no need to pull out the weapon, it's okay!" Richie responded quickly, putting himself between Carmy and Mandy. "You're not on an episode of Punk'd. I promise ya, we do not know who this Lip Gallagher guy is."

Mandy eyed Carmy carefully over Richie's shoulder. "What's my little sister's name?"

"Uh... what?" Carmy stammered, peering out from behind Richie like a scared little kid.

"Lip would know the name of my little sister." Mandy stated, eyes narrowed as she studied Carmy.

"Uhm... I... I dunno... uhm... Maxine?" Carmy stammered once more. His expression showed sincerity, he truly did not know the answer.

Mandy sighed, putting her switchblade back in her bra. "Okay, okay... I'm sorry."

"Hey, uh, Syd, come help me with somethin' in the back." Richie muttered to a confused Sydney, then ushered her out of the kitchen quickly.

The tension in the air was palpable once Mandy was alone with Carmy. She eyed him carefully, up and down, studying every angle of him that she possibly could.

"So... this... um, Lip guy... he, uh, really did a number on you up, huh?" Carmy asked, his tone soft yet curious. "Given the way you... reacted."

"You... could say that. Our history is a little... messy." Mandy muttered in response, then sighed. "Okay, a lot messy."

Carmy nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "So... seeing me..."

"A little fucking freaky, yeah." She laughed softly, then took a deep breath. "So you... don't know the Gallaghers... like, at all?"

"The name doesn't ring a bell... if Richie doesn't know them, then I definitely don't. Richie usually knows fuckin' everybody." Carmy shrugged, then scanned the table of food he'd made.

Mandy followed Carmy's eyes as he went over the dishes he'd prepared. She smirked a little bit after a moment. "Yknow, I guess I should've known you aren't Lip. He can't cook to save his fucking life. He can maybe operate a toaster, if he's lucky."

Carmy cracked a smile, then pushed a dish over to Mandy. "Here, taste this. Tell me what you think."

"This looks incredible. You sure you aren't an artist?" Mandy asked with a soft laugh as she took a fork to the plate of prepped food.

"Well, cooking is sort of an art, if you think about it. Presentation is a part of it, if you watch any cooking show, people are always docked points for bad presentation. It's part of the experience—"

Carmy's rambling was cut off by Mandy letting out a delighted moan from the food. His cheeks went a little pink.

"This is amazing." She commented, looking at him with a little smile. "Seriously, like... I think this is better than anything I've ever had before."

Upon Mandy naming a familiar restaurant in New York, Carmy smiled a little — only at the comment of the food being good, not at the awful memories of that place, the memories of David Fields. "I worked there."

Mandy looked surprised, eyeing Carmy curiously. "You worked in New York City?"

"I've been all over. Here, Paris, Copenhagen, California, New York... lot to learn about food, yknow?" He hummed as he carefully inspected one of his dishes closer.

"So... what the hell brought you back to Chicago?" Mandy asked, her interest was piqued beyond just getting to know him for the reason Richie hired her. "You've been so many beautiful places."

"My... brother... um, he..." Carmy trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

Mandy's gaze softened a little as she looked at the way he'd reacted to the question. She knew all too well about the struggles of having brothers... "It's okay if you don't wanna tell me, yknow."

"Well, uh, he... kinda... killed himself." He muttered softly. "And this place used to be The Original Beef of Chicagoland—"

"No shit?! This place used to be The Beef? Your brother was Mikey?" Mandy asked, eyes going a little wide.

Carmy looked surprised, to say the least. "Um... yeah. You knew him?"

"Well, I met him like... once. One time, my brother Mickey went to juvie for a couple months cus he did some property damage at school. When I picked him up, we went to The Beef for lunch— and I'd completely forgotten my wallet." She explained with a little laugh. "And Mickey didn't have shit on him, he just got out of fucking juvie! So I was freaking out... and Mikey said it was on him. He could see we were a little... roughed up. It was really nice of him... I wish I'd gotten to come back before he passed away... I'm really sorry."

"I-It's okay— I mean, it's not okay, but I'm getting better every day... yknow, that one step at a time, day by day, kinda bullshit." Carmy muttered softly.

"I get it... mourning shit is hard." She reassured, gaze softening as her eyes met Carmy's.

He definitely looked like Lip, there was no denying that. But the longer she spent looking at him, the more she took in how different he seemed from her ex. Of course, Mandy knew Lip wasn't a totally bad guy, he wasn't the worst person in the world, she knew worse — but there was something in Carmy's aura and general demeanor that was different. She had to remind herself though, Carmy was a client.

"So, um, did Richie offer you a table for tonight?" Carmy asked, breaking the silence between them.

"He did. I'm really looking forward to what's in store." Mandy smiled softly. "He told me you changed the menu every night... is that... how the hell do you keep up with doing that?"

"Practice. Lots of practice." Carmy responded casually. It seemed like he really knew what he was doing, though on the inside he was an anxiety-ridden mess.

┈

By the time everybody was calling for doors, Richie had Mandy seated at her table. She sat alone, but she was fine with that— she never minded a little alone time once in a while. Besides, it gave her time to think about Carmy a little more.

Meanwhile, Carmy tried to focus on the kitchen. He was doing expo tonight— but it was hard, his mind was now stuck on Mandy. She was... charming, in her own right, if a little intimidating. Something about the whole thing with the switchblade and her sense of self, something about their paths unintentionally crossing in the past without them even knowing it...

"Chef?" Sydney asked, nudging Carmy and snapping him from his thoughts. "You look distracted. Do you need me to take over expo?"

"Huh? No— no, I'm fine, chef, sorry." Carmy muttered softly. "Um, would anybody mind if I served a dish tonight?"

Sydney raised her eyebrow at Carmy. He hadn't done that since the soft open with Claire.

"Are you sure, chef?" She asked carefully, trying to gage his reaction.

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure." Carmy muttered. "Let me know when her dish is ready, I wanna serve it to her."

"Okay, okay— heard, chef." Sydney nodded, quickly going back to her station.

Mandy's order was up, and Carmy took a deep breath. "Sydney, on expo for a few minutes please."

"Yes, chef." She nodded, switching places with Carmy as he took the plate of food.

Carmy took a deep breath— he wanted to impress Mandy, but not make the same mistakes he made with Claire. Internally, he kept reapeating the same thing, "Don't fuck up, don't fuck up, don't fuck up—"

"Hi, Carmy." Mandy greeted with a little smile when she saw him arrive with her dish. "Didn't know I'd get the pleasure of having my food served by the man himself."

"Oh, um, yeah, I thought it'd be... nice..." Carmy muttered nervously, but forced a little smile.

"You, uh, seem a little nervous there, Carm. Everything okay?" Mandy asked softly as her plate was set before her.

"Last time I served someone a dish personally... things went south." He sighed softly, but smiled a little again at Mandy. "But, um, I hope you enjoy."

"I'm sure I will. I'll hang around after to give you my thoughts." She gave a reassuring smile, it sent a flutter to Carmy's chest— he hadn't felt that in a while.

Once he was back in the kitchen, he went back on expo, dismissing Sydney, determined to not have a repeat of friends and family night. "Thank you, chef."

Thankfully, the rest of the night went more smoothly. Carmy's mini-chat when serving Mandy her entrée somehow calmed him down enough for the rest of service. It was a difference that everybody noticed, especially Richie— his plan was working.

Richie brought Mandy to the back of the restaurant to clear her table, she hung out until everything was closed for the night.

"Um, does anybody mind if I cut out?" Carmy asked.

Richie perked up before anybody else could respond. "Go on, cousin. We got it."

Every single other staff member looked at Richie in absolute shock— what?

But Carmy just smiled at Richie, then grabbed his things from his locker. He went to where Mandy was waiting, by the back exit, and took a deep breath.

"Um, would you... like to... go on a walk... maybe?" Carmy asked bashfully, glancing up at Mandy.

Mandy smiled a little, and nodded. "I'd like that."

As they walked out, Richie silently celebrated— and Sydney looked immensely confused. What in the hell was Richie up to?

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

tags ; @thecapricunt1616 @buzzcutlip

click here if you'd like to be tagged in any future updates of my work!

[honeyglz]

</3 Breaking up w/ mha characters + little snippets </3

A/N - Let me know if you guys want full length fics for any of these cause I may or may not do some. Im starting this off with the main three but hopefully Ill do more characters later. Also Shoto's is a lil shorter than the rest my bad. Yk the drill on rpoof reading.

Reader- GN for Bakugou and Deku, fem used for Todoroki (Though it could be veiwed as more of a Afab reader instead, just mind the pronouns) , She/Her, You/Your/ Yours

Disclaimer- I do not own any of the characters aside from my depiction of Y/N.

Pairings (separate) - Bakugou x (engaged)reader, Deku/Midoriya x (dating) reader , Todoroki x (engaged) reader

Warning- Mentions of violence/death/injury (No abusive relationship is written in this it is just part of their jobs as hero's). Arranged marriage for Shoto's

Category- Angst Check Master-list for follow up's for each character.

-♡- ✮Bakugou K.✮

Reason: He didn't care enough to make time

Plain and simple.

He's a busy guy, esp once he becomes a pro hero

It starts off small too

He misses the good morning kiss he usually gives you

Next its coming home late

At first you thought maybe he was just tired.

Until he starts blowing off dates. Here you were. Sitting in your chair uncomfortable with the amount of whispers that you could hear. 3 hours you had been waiting. Pity glanced brushed off your shoulders as you sighed flagging down a waiter. "ready to order?" the waiter said in a small voice as he watched you try to cover the sadness in your tone "Yea.. Ill take.."

Katsuki arrived home later that night. Covered in soot and ash as he lay on the couch.

You found him in the morning, still fast asleep.

You sighed as you let it slide, he was busy, surely it was a one time thing right?

Wrong

So so very wrong

He had missed a total of 20 dates

20 .

2

0

It wasn't until you finally had enough of being second place to his job did you try and talk to him...

Bad idea. It was late. The glow from your alarm clock light your face, dried tears staining your checks. You looked down at the sliver ring on your finger. Unaware of the door to your shared apartment having been opened. Katsuki's footsteps were heavy, sluggish movements as he kicked off his boots. His gauntlets thrown carelessly onto the couch noticing the dim light from your shared bedroom. Tracking his way into the room he noticed you staring down at your ring, twisting it nervously as you spaced out. A low grumble snapped you from your thoughts as you stared up at him, eyes devoid of the warm glow he fell in love with. "Bakugou. We need to talk." His thoughts came to a halt at your words. Why the actual fuck were you using his last name? He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he sighed clearly annoyed at the shit you were trying to pull. "Can this wait, Im fucking tired and-" he huffed only to be cut off "It can't wait." There was a cold sadness to your voice, foreign to his ears. He had to be hearing things. He watched as you stood only now taking in the rest of the room. Your things were missing. "Did we get robbed or sumthin- where the fuck is all your stuff" He said making a vague gesture to what now felt like a very empty room. Katsuki's eyes landed on the packed suitcase. Everything clicking in place now. You were leaving. He felt a lump form in his throat as he looked you over. You looked almost as tired as him. You kept your eyes low fidgeting with the ring once more before speaking. Your words calm and thought out. "I think we should take a break" Now. Katsuki has grown alot in the past years. But something inside him snapped at hearing the dreaded words fall out of your mouth. To him you were giving up on him. Like everyone else. Emotions swirled through his scarlet eyes before an anger bubbled over them.

Yeaaaa.....

Safe to say you both didnt recover from that. -♡- ✮Midoriya I. (Deku !!)✮

Reason- He's too scared of leaving you that he kept you at arms length.

You heard me right folks

Poor bby is scared that one day he wont be around and he'll leave you all alone

Solution?

Leave you all alone while he's still alive :D

Being fr tho ever since he became the new symbol of peace he's had this unconscious state of "Any moment may be my last"

Thing is he didn't really develop this until one night.... There had been a villain attack, one far more catastrophic then anyone would have predicted. Izuku came home hours later battered and bruised beyond belief. Walking into the your shared house it wasn't until he heard muffled cries that he snapped out of his daze rushing to the source only to find you, clutching his shirt, tears streaming down your face as the sound of the news blasted through the room. You turned your head to see your boyfriend, leaning against the door frame, splattered with blood and dirt his clothes torn with wounds oozing the horrid crimson liquid. Your glossy eye's met forest green and you sprang to your feet tripping as you fell, hands gripping his. That night Izuku fought tears while he watched you try to scold him between sobs about how he should have called you. How scared you were and how much you needed him to come home after stuff like that. Something in him switched that night. He never wanted to see you cry like that again.

And so he distanced himself

AND I DONT WANT ANYONE BEING LIKE

"Oh why dont u just come home early when stuff like that happens or be more careful"

At the end of the day there is no guarantee he'll be able to call you.

Or that he'll always be safe

There's no guarantee He'll be alive at the end of the day.

Its the realistic statistic's of his life

And of course being the symbol of peace, he had to accept that

But the thought of leading you on with the rest of the world

Leading you to think that every night he'll be there to lay next to you.

Allowing you to feel so much pain if he ever did leave.

The thought alone had him uneasy.

So he did the only thing he could think of.

Letting you leave first. You sighed as you packed your things, Izuku watching out of the corner of his eye, trying his best to act indifferent to it all. "I think that's the last of it..." You said gripping the handle as you looked over to the man you had loved for years. The man that you thought you would marry. The man who now wouldn't even spare you a glance. A uninterested hum echoed through the house. Utter shock painting your face as you scoffed biting back tears that threatened to spill once again. You turned on your heel hand hovering over the cool steel of the door handle before you stopped. "You're not the man I fell in love with, not anymore." You turned the handle leaving the shattered man behind. The slam of the door making the hero flinch. He did it. He kept you save. So why was he still crying? -♡- ✮Todoroki S.✮

Reason - He never gave it a chance

You two had been young when your parents arranged for you both to be wed.

You were told since day one about it.

Shoto, not so much.

It wasn't until he turned 18 was he told of this.

His first thoughts?

He hated it.

He hated the whole idea.

He despised it so much that he fought tooth and nail to get out of it. "You're not listening to me- I don't want to marry someone I've never met!" Anger filled his body as he yelled at his stoic father. The man never once cracking a look of sympathy for his son. Instead he stood up, firm eyes trailing down to the duo coloured ones below. "She had no problem with it. I don't see why you're making such a fuss, its for the family's blood line and-" Shoto felt flames crawl up his skin as he listened to his fathers ramble. Tired of it all he left leaving the man talking to thin air. He paced his training room before sending the room into a pit of rage filled flames. Ice covered the windows as he let out all his pent up anger. Cursing aloud at how foolish anyone would be to marry someone they didn't know.

Safe to say he didnt even want to meet you.

But you did and eventually got engaged.

But it was all a lie.

He didn't love you. He made sure you both knew it -♡- A/N I ran out of room. :/ I can redo Shoto's if yall end up liking this idk

[skzhua]

Can I request Minho and y/n having a really heated argument and she says something she doesn’t mean and he gets really emotional and y/n feels really bad and he leaves to go for a walk to think and when he comes back she makes it up to him 💕

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Office worker!Lee Minho x Company Heiress!Reader

Genre: Aftermath of runaway from arranged marriage, angst, fluff.

Word Count: 2,925

Warnings: Swearing and sad asf.

A/N: I was totally supposed to do my essay due for Monday but I gave up because Minho is on my mind 24/7.

You married for love. You had to remind yourself that, you married for love and not for business. So how come did you feel like your marriage was falling apart?

Lee Minho was his name. He started to work at your company only a few months after you became team supervisor as you were slowly going up in status to be prepared to become CEO. Your mother was one of the rare women to have built her own business without the need of a man and you admired her for that.

But back to Minho. He was attractive, there was no denying that. You caught on quickly that he was sleeping around with the other female workers. You didn't despise him per say, but you definitely held a dislike to him as an employee. But as you worked together more and more often, you discovered a broken man who wanted nothing more than to work his ass off to build himself up from the lower-class part of the city.

That was how you fell in love with him. Being in position of authority, you kept it secret for months with a few steamy sessions done in the corner of your office. And when your mother announced you that you'd be married to the almighty heir of the Seo company, you had no choice but to comply. It was good for your image and good for your numbers to rise.

But like any typical story about a business heiress falling in love with someone with a lower status, you ended up walking away from the altar to run back to Minho. All of your future that was planned out for you was gone and given to your younger brother instead. You got married with only your close friends who approved of your relationship as your guests and had been for almost five years. Since then, you lived happily a few miles away from the city and worked as an accountant. It was definitely a shift from your previous life but you managed. As for Minho, he worked in a law firm as a secretary. Nothing extravagant, just enough for you to pay the bills.

Or so you thought.

"Good evening, my love." Minho greeted your with a kiss as he stepped into your house. "How was your day?"

"I got more paperwork due but I think I can manage to finish it if I keep working extra tomorrow evening."

Minho paused from putting his things away. Loosening his tie, he approached you and grabbed you by the waist.

"Tomorrow is our anniversary, though."

"It's the 12th, no?" you asked, placing your arms around his neck.

"We got married on the 11th, honey." he chuckled and then placed a peck on your lips. "You could ask your boss to give the work to someone else, no?"

"You know I can't do that." you sighed. "We can celebrate it tonight or the day after instead."

He scoffed. "No, I don't think we can."

You cocked your head to the side. "Minho, please."

With a heavy sigh, he shook his head in exasperation. "I wanted it to be a surprise but I reserved at the best restaurant in the city and I even booked a night at the hotel for us to relax. With the spa included."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh indeed." he noted, pettiness in his voice.

You felt bad, so bad. But at the same time, you weren't going to leave out work for you to have a romantic getaway. You had bills to pay and you actually found it unreasonable for him to be paying something you knew you couldn't afford.

"I'm afraid you'll have to cancel."

His hands automatically left your body and he removed your arms from his neck. His jaw clenching, he headed to your kitchen and pulled out a bottle from your refrigerator. Not any bottle, the exact bottle of champagne you drank at your wedding ceremony.

"Min..." you exhaled. "Where did you get that?"

"I bought it last week, actually. My boss was kind enough to pay me double for a day only so I can get you this." he explained before placing it on the counter. "My point is that if I can compromise with my boss, you can do the same."

You shook your head. "Mrs. Moon is not like Mr. Bang. She doesn't sympathize like that, especially if it's about that aspect of our personal lives."

"Be reasonable, Y/N. We haven't gone out on a date in months and you work like a slave for that woman. All I'm asking for is a day off for us to spend quality time together."

It totally made sense what he was saying. However, you couldn't do that for him. Deadlines were approaching and you were afraid you'd get fired if you didn't meet your boss' expectations.

"I'm sorry."

He scoffed again and put the bottle back in the refrigerator, slaming the door shut. "I'm sorry for wanting to spoil my wife. I guess I have some calls to make tonight."

He left to the study room, not even wanting to look at you. All of these years, he worked his ass off to show you that running away with him was worth it. Every extra penny he made was saved for you. He had done so much for you and so little for himself.

"Minho."

He looked up from his phone. "What is it? I'm making calls to cancel because I can't even get one night with the one I love."

"Okay, now. Drop the attitude."

He chuckled sarcastically. "I'm so sorry for being disappointed, really. You truly have no idea how much I put into this relationship."

It was your turn to huff at his words. "I'm sorry but I'm the one making sacrifices for us. I gave up an entire life for us to be together. Maybe you should remind yourself that sometimes."

He walked closer to you, now hovering your small figure. "I'm well aware of what you did which is why I thought doing this would be worth celebrating our union. Turns out it doesn't mean that much to you as it does to me."

"I never said that. I appreciate it, I really do. But you know very well that we simply can't afford it."

"How come was I able to pay for it, then?"

"By cutting off on our groceries. Don't think I didn't notice you stopped spending for your lunches."

At that point, the both of you were fuming and Minho was hovering you more and more as to seem like the bigger person. "And then you say I don't do enough for us, sure."

"We can't keep living like this. I love you, I swear, but working is more important right now. We need money."

"We have it."

"We would have had it if we didn't leave everything behind five years ago."

You saw him gulp. "Are you saying you would have prefered staying in that toxic environment?"

"Maybe. Marrying Seo Changbin wouldn't have turned out like this, that's for sure."

Another gulp made his Adam's apple bop. This time, he didn't have anything else to add. You had crossed the line and it hurt. You couldn't believe that you let yourself say those words. This was the exact thing Minho was afraid of and here you were, making his nightmare a reality.

"If that's what you want."

He stormed out of the room and went to the kitchen. You followed him and watched as he grabbed his keys and his blazer he had previously gotten rid of minutes ago before it all went downhill.

"I'll be at Jisung's."

"Minho, I'm so sorry."

"Whatever. You said it, the harm is done."

Before you could say more, he was already out the door. Dropping on one of the dining room's chairs, you let the tears flood out of your eyes. You cried and you kept on crying, you didn't know for how long. When you started to come back to reality, you forced yourself to make a quick meal since you had not eaten for the entire day. You really did force yourself as the hunger was close to nonexistent.

You tried to work a bit, but with it being the cause of your argument, it only made you feel worse. You didn't even know why you told him that as you never regretted leaving the business to be with him. If anything, this was the best decision you had ever made.

After hours of trying to forget about what happened, you checked the time to see it was a little past midnight. This was a good 5th anniversary for sure... Helpless, you took out your phone and dialed the first number that came to your mind.

"Y/N?"

"Hey." you said, your voice still shaky.

"Are you okay? What are you doing up so late?"

"I could ask you the same." you chuckled but your tone remained the same. "Am I bothering?"

"Of course not. What is it?"

"I..." a sob took over and interrupted you.

For the nth time that night, you were crying. Jeongin was lowkey panicking from the other side of the line. He, himself, still had work to do but he wasn't going to leave his big sister in her sadness. He was one of the few people to keep contact with you despite your mother having cut ties with you. He offered to help you financially many times but having grown up with the independence your mother taught you, you refused each time.

"Do you want me to come over?"

"No, I know you have a lot to do." you sniffed. "I just need to rant I guess."

"I'm listening."

You told him everything: from the start of your financial arguments to your indecent comment. Jeongin said nothing and let you talk for what seemed to be hours. At some point, you heard him closing a door and you felt bad he had to leave the office without having finished his work.

"I'm so sorry for bothering."

He sighed. "I told you, you're not bothering. And if there is anyone you need to apologize to right now is your husband."

"If he still considers me his wife." you scoffed. "You have to admit, though. Spending so much just for one night is crazy."

"He loves you, Y/N. Of course he wanted to treat you a night for yourselves."

"But we can't afford it." you repeated.

"Are you going to understand he doesn't care? He'd be the poorest man on Earth and he'd still buy you flowers when he could."

You bit your lips in shame. Jeongin was right, you were the one being unfair here. Minho had told you on many occasions that you could get a better job with your reputation but you told him you didn't want a job for being known and for your skills instead. But you were more worth than this stupid accounting office job. And even your brother offered you side contracts that paid well, but being the stubborn woman you were, you declined. Looking back, you realized you were the problem.

"You think so?"

"I know so."

You sighed. "Even if I do understand now, he won't take me back for saying that. I hurt him so much, Innie."

"You'll manage, Y/N. You always do."

The conversation ended with these words as he needed to go to sleep. As for you, you were more awake than ever. Going back to the study room, you noticed Minho's agenda was still opened. Luckily, he had noted down the place and time he reserved for the two of you. Not even worrying about the fact it was 2 in the morning, you called Minho's boss to ask for a week off after briefly explaining your situation, Mr. Bang was more than happy to help and he crossed off Minho's name on the schedule for the rest of the week. You then wasted no time to call the hotel to book the room for extra nights, making sure that breakfasts and others were included. The last thing you had left to do was to quit your horrible job. You were more willing to accept your brother's contracts than to come back to see Mrs. Moon's face again.

As morning arrived, you hurried to pack your things in a luggage and make yourself look nice although you hadn't had one minute of sleep. To your surprise, you received a text from Minho. It was very brief and distant as he only informed you that he'd come around 7 to get his things to move temporarily to Jisung's.

Seven o'clock was nearing and you were nervous. You wanted everything to turn out perfectly and you certainly hoped he wouldn't walk away again. You needed him, more than anything.

Seeing the car pull into your parking lot, you instantly got up from your seat and grabbed your bags. You looked as if you were ready to leave for a while, which was the case.

Minho unlocked the door and stepped inside the house, not expecting to see you. But when he did, his eyes immediately got darker. Then, he studied you for a little longer and saw you holding firmly onto your luggage.

"You're leaving?"

You kind of wanted to mess with him for a bit but with your literal marriage being at stake, you didn't and shook your head instead.

"We are leaving."

He didn't look any better than you. His eyes had bags under them and his disheveled hair was a sign he didn't even shower. He still had the same buttoned shirt he usually wore at work but it was much wrinkled.

"What are you saying now?" he sighed.

"You are right, I'm not being reasonable. I blamed all of my problems on you because I was so used to succeeding by myself. I didn't realize that you booked a night for us because you care much more about our relationship than I do."

He exhaled loudly. "At least you're admitting it, good. You're leaving me now?"

You shook your head vigorously. "I could never leave you, Minho. I'm terribly sorry for what I've said because I didn't mean one bit of it. I love this life with you, I am just too much of a stubborn to enjoy it like I should."

He frowned from your words and uncrossed his arms, a sign that he was more relaxed. "What do you mean like you should?"

"I resigned from my job."

His eyes widened. "No, Y/N. I never wanted you to quit for me... again. I was only mad for having to cancel everything, that's all."

He walked up to you, now holding your face so carefully, almost like he was scared you would break in his grasp. This made you feel so much better, it was a sign he still cared.

"I'm not doing this for you, it's for me. You were right, I'm not happy there."

You didn't realize tears came out of your eyes once more until he started to rub your cheeks. "So what is this we are leaving thing about?"

"I booked the hotel room for the week."

His grip on your face tightened slightly. "I'll have to be the one to tell you I can't now."

"I called your boss, he's fine with it."

"You're actually so fucking stupid." he huffed.

You saw a small smile forming on his lips. Still brushing off your tears, he leaned closer slowly. Until he kissed you. Not sure if you were still on bad terms or not, he did pull away quickly.

"You do realize we really are broke now?"

You laughed. "Not exactly. I'll take Jeongin's contract and – or – get an actual good job."

"Damn you and your stubborn ass." he shot at you with a grin. "You're finally making logical choices."

"I'm sorry it took us fighting for me to snap back to reality."

More tears falling, more of him brushing them away. "We're okay now."

"I really thought you hated me now."

You suddenly broke into more sobs again. The lack of sleep was definitely apparent. Minho held you closely, stroking your head as he shushed you calmly and peppered your forehead with kisses.

"I could never hate you. You get on my nerves sometimes, but it'll never be hatred."

You looked up at him. "You still love me?"

He chuckled. "Of course I still love you. An argument isn't going to end everything we build for the past five years."

You cried some more, of happiness this time. Minho laughed at how sensitive you were but didn't let go of you. He kissed you again, wiped your tears off for you again... He wanted nothing more but to protect you at that moment. You were rarely this vulnerable in front of him and he was simply honoured you trusted him enough to let yourself loose.

"Happy 5th year, my love." he whispered into your ear.

"I love you so much." you said, hugging him tighter.

"I love you more." He pulled away and grabbed both sides of your head. "How about I go pack and we enjoy our week together?"

"I'd like that."

He excitedly ran to your shared room and you let out a chuckle as you watched him. Your life was far from being perfect, but what you had with him was. You weren't going to take it for granted, not when he still loved you albeit your stubborness.

taglist: @lenilla15 | @muddy-waters | @nanaspalette | @nattisbored | @popcatx0 | @vanblack95 | @aestheticsluut | @thanxxskz | @minhoino | @taetertotsv | @luvscrazy | @lethallyprotected | @foxinnie8 | @jisuperboard

Copyright © 2023 skzhua. All rights reserved.

[violetsaffron5]

Beautiful Disaster (7)

← Chapter 6 • series masterlist • Chapter 8 →

↳ 7 | No One Else

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Satoru takes you out for a conversation and dancing

words: 4.2k

cw: jealously, arguing, gojo being an ass

Taglist • Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

“What the fuck, Suguru?”

“Sorry, man. Thought she’d be gone before you got up.”

Satoru clicks his tongue, watching as Suguru shrugs before leaning against the counter and taking a bite of his toast. 

It’s silent for a few moments before Satoru finally asks, “And she’s just in your sweatshirt because…?”

“We were up all night, she needed something to wear this morning.”

Suguru’s nonchalant attitude is pissing Satoru off even more. If there was one person who knew what Satoru’s thinking, and feeling, it is him.

And you - you know they’re best friends and still chose to come over, flirt with Suguru in front of him, and stay the night.

Satoru is seeing red and has a flurry of emotions running through his body right now that he’s not going to bother trying to sort out because fuck that.

While Satoru and Suguru were busy talking, you made your way back upstairs to Suguru’s room, which is the total opposite of Satoru’s - clean and organized.

Everything has its place rather than strewn around recklessly. Even the books on his bookshelf are arranged in alphabetical order.

After changing back into your clothes from the day before, you make your way back down the steps to leave, hoping to avoid an awkward interaction with Satoru.

You know what he must think. That you’ve distanced yourself from him only to hook up with his best friend.

But that’s not the case. You were hard at work on your diorama when Satoru left for his date, after making a show of it in front of you. When you and Suguru completed it, you wanted to relax while working on the research paper.

Suguru suggested moving up to his room, where he has a yoga mat and pillow in one corner set up for relaxing, along with a peppermint candle to help with focusing.

The two of you worked on that in his room for several hours until you fell asleep on his bed, and when you woke up this morning, Suguru was on the couch.

There was a small part of you that hoped Satoru would see you, and sure, be a little jealous.

But as soon as you saw his face when he walked into the kitchen those hopes immediately vanished and were replaced by an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach.

When you come down the stairs, Satoru is leaning against the wall by the front door, the little round circular sunglasses you’ve seen him sport several times covering his eyes, and he’s changed too. Now in a black fitted tee with dark jeans.

“We’re going out.” He says coldly, opening the door as you look back at Suguru who just shrugs with an amused little smile.

“Okay… Can I go back to my room and change first?”

“Nope.”

The tall gangly bastard is walking out the door before you have a chance to argue about wanting to put on different clothes before going out.

You have half a mind to disregard him, walk back to your dorm, and go back to ignoring him. But the expression on his face, as he opens his passenger door and waits for you to get in tells you that maybe right now isn’t the time to do that.

The car ride is awkward and tense. Neither of you says anything as he speeds down the road, passing several cars in front of him before pulling into the parking lot of a local restaurant.

The place is nicer than you expected, and more intimate as well. Dim, yellow lighting and soft murmurs from other patrons, and clattering of plates and silverware fill the space as the two of you are seated at a small table for two.

You’re not sure what to say because you’re not entirely sure why he’s brought you here. The air is thick as you awkwardly look around the restaurant and watch the servers bring out food to the other guests.

“Pretty fucked up that you hooked up with Suguru.” Satoru finally says, breaking the silence between you, taking off his sunglasses and setting them on the table.

You purse your lips before sighing, “You’re the one who didn’t want to be exclusive.”

“Could have been with anyone, but fucking my best friend, really?”

“Ok, well, first of all, we didn’t sleep together and-”

“Hard to believe when you two were blatantly flirting in front of me.” Satoru seethes.

You stare at him shocked with wide eyes, “Satoru, we were working on our project, not flirting!”

“You know what I think? You ran off to Suguru, who just happens to look like your ex because you were jealous I went out on a date.”

Your brows are knitted, heart beating rapidly, wondering how the hell Satoru even found out that you have an ex, let alone what he looks like.

You scoff in disbelief before sucking on your teeth, “We’re not even together, it shouldn’t matter to you what I do.”

“Well, maybe we should be,” Satoru visibly relaxes, stern expression softening, a little fear in his eyes, “exclusive, I mean.”

You search his face looking for any sign of insincerity in what he just said but you don’t find anything, just a burning passion and maybe a little fear.

Your heart skips a beat, and there’s a smile threatening to break the stern expression you’re trying to maintain. There’s still a part of you that needs to know if he’s actually serious or if he’s just telling you what you want to hear.

“What’s changed? Why do you want to try now?”

Because when he sees you, and you smile at him, he can’t help but smile back. When you look at him, it feels like sunshine and sunflowers and warmth on a summer day, but instead of saying any of that cheesy shit he says,

“Because I’d probably beat the fuck out of whoever you try to get with.”

“God, that’s so… unhinged and scary.” Your brows are upturned and a chill runs down your spine, directly to the apex of your thighs at his words to your dismay.

He reaches across the table with his long arms, grabbing your hands so he can thread his fingers through yours before sighing, “I’m serious. I… want to give this a real shot. Might as well try right?”

“You know, when you say shit like that, it makes you seem so unserious.”

He just laughs, watching you while clenching his jaw waiting for an answer, “Fuck, fine, okay, we’ll try.”

You’re not sure how much you believe him, if he’s capable of being serious in a relationship, or if he’ll get bored and go back to what he was doing within a few weeks.

You know it’ll probably end spectacularly bad, but maybe, just maybe, he’ll surprise you.

November 2011

Since making things official with Satoru you’ve learned he’s a bit more aloof to relationships than you originally thought. It’s not totally surprising, and you had expected a bit of it, but it hasn’t stopped certain things from being incredibly annoying.

In the few weeks you’ve been together several girls have come by his place, stopped him on campus, and messaged him asking when they’d be going out next.

Satoru denies them, but he still looks at them just a little too long and smiles a little too widely at them for your liking.

And you glare at the women who come around asking for a good time, especially when he’s wearing his dark little sunglasses and you can’t see his eyes to tell how he’s looking at them.

With the way they glare back, scoff in your direction, and are ignored in group conversations, it feels like you’re the pariah of the female population on campus, but it’s not as bothersome as they probably think.

You have found yourself getting jealous at the amount of time Satoru has had to spend replying to messages and cutting off his usuals - they’re like gnats to a plant that just won’t go away no matter how hard you try.

But aside from that annoyance, Satoru’s a shockingly decent boyfriend. He likes to buy you things and show you off. Loves having an arm around your shoulders or waist, holding you close.

Just loves to touch you in general, loves to say the dirtiest things he can think of in your ear to rile you up and fuck your brains out every night he has the chance.

You tell him he has the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen, and he says your eyes are prettier, especially when he makes them roll to the back of your head in pleasure.

Your relationship is very physical right now, Satoru’s insatiable, you’ve learned. He likes to be between your legs, and really likes when you’re riding him like your life depends on it.

But even then, it doesn’t stop you from learning new things about each other.

He’s so smart and so playful - you already knew that, but not to this extent. He thinks outside the box in amazing ways, it’s incredibly fascinating listening to him talk about his ideas whether for class or social issues.

None of your conversations have been too deep, or too personal. Neither opting to share much about your home lives, but that’s okay.

You’re trying to live in the now, with him, while it lasts.

There’s always a nagging thought in the back of your mind that he’ll get bored, break up with you, and go back to his old habits. What he’s comfortable with.

Primarily to Mei, who has been the biggest thorn in your side.

Always hanging around, always needing help with school work even though you know she doesn’t.

He just says they’re friends and she’s around a lot because of the shared friend groups, but it doesn’t stop you from sitting a little closer to Satoru, holding his hand and laying your head against his shoulder any time she’s around.

You’re trying not to think about any of that too much right now since you, Shoko, and Utahime successfully dragged Satoru and Suguru out to the clubs with you.

All of you spent the evening getting ready at Satoru’s place, listening to music, doing your hair and makeup, and pregaming.

After getting ready, you went up to Satoru’s room to slip into a small black dress that barely reaches the middle of your thighs and heels that make your legs and ass look great, but you barely made it back out.

As soon as Satoru saw you, he grinned and told you how great you look as he pushed you against the cool wall of his bedroom, kissing your neck.

“Satoru, you’re going to mess up my makeup.” You scold.

“Good,” his voice is rough, thick, and laced with lust as he playfully nips your ear, “wanna ruin this dress too.”

He slips his hand up your thighs easily, moving your panties to the side to run his fingers through your already slippery folds while you gasp, letting out a shuttering breath.

“I want to go out,” you whine as he presses his body against yours. As much as you would love to stay, let him ruin your hair, makeup, dress, and even life, you want to go out. It’ll be the first time you guys have gone out with friends as a couple, rather than one on one.

Satoru groans before taking a deep breath, moving your panties back in place, giving you space to breathe again before obscenely licking his fingers clean of your arousal with a Cheshire grin.

“You’re gross,” you scrunch your nose before adjusting your hair and dress, opening the door to his bedroom again.

“Mhm,” he hums happily, smacking your ass, causing you to squeal before leading you down the stairs to his car.

Now he’s grinding his hips against your ass to the beat of the song that’s blasting in the club, red, blue, and green lights flashing around in a kaleidoscope of colors.

You’ve been here for a while now, hot and sweaty from all the bodies melded together on the dance floor, plenty of drinks from pregaming and from the bar running through your veins.

Satoru nuzzles into your hair before placing several small kisses on your neck, his cologne is expensive and intoxicating as you lean your head back onto his shoulder, breath hitching when he kisses a tender spot just below your ear.

He wraps a hand around your throat, holding you close while you moan so sweet and pretty into his ear, the other splayed on your stomach, pulling you further into him so you can feel his hard length pressed into your back.

With the way Satoru moves his hips while fucking into you, it’s really no surprise he knows how to dance too, even though he said he prefers not to.

What’s more impressive is the fact that he’s also able to lead your body to dance alongside his when the song switches to another with a faster tempo. All the while his hand is moving slowly down your sides to the hem of your dress, before sliding up your bare thigh, grazing his thumb over your panties.

Your skin heats immediately, a jolt of electricity running straight to the apex of your thighs before you move his hand away, threading your other into his hair, adjusting so he’ll kiss your lips as you continue grinding into one another.

Satoru continues a few more times, slipping his hand under your dress and panties until you pull away, pinching your eyebrows together, “Satoru, what the fuck?”

“What’s the problem?” He asks as you maneuver your way through the crowd to get to the bar.

“You’re basically trying to fuck on the dance floor!”

“Okay… what’s the problem with that?” He asks confused, pointing out to the sea of dancers, “We’d be far from the only ones.”

“Because I’m not into that?” You narrow your eyes at Satoru before leaning against the counter, waiting on the bartender. “Why does there have to be a reason other than I don’t want to?”

He rolls his eyes, “Didn’t stop you from fucking on the beach or us hooking up at parties.”

“We were alone on the beach and all we do is make out at parties in front of people. Big difference from being fingered in front of like, a billion people.”

“Okay, well I’m just trying to have a good time.”

His words sting; you stare at him for a moment chewing on the side of your cheek, “So, going out together, with our friends… that isn’t a good enough time for you?”

Satoru scoffs out an annoyed “whatever,” walking away. You close your eyes and huff before turning to the bartender and ordering a cocktail. While you wait for your drink, you lean your back against the counter and look around for your friends.

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips when you spot Utahime and Shoko dancing together. They both look like they’re having a great time, all smiles and laughs in their slip dresses, Utahime grinding into Shoko.

“Hey girl, did you fall from heaven?”

You furrow your brows, turning to the man who came to stand next to you, laughing a little at his dumb pickup line while grabbing your drink from the counter, “Um, no, I didn’t actually.”

He gives a charming smile, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling, “could’ve fooled me. I’m Kei.”

You bite your lip and shake your head with a soft smile before introducing yourself. He asks if you came with friends and makes small talk about them when you point out to Shoko and Utahime dancing, spotting Suguru with a dance partner of his own.

“Mm. Let me get you another drink,” Kei offers, “I’m getting a toothache from how sweet you are, you know?”

You nod awkwardly, blinking at his lame jokes a few times before taking a deep breath, looking around the club, “You know I have a boy…friend.”

Your sentence trails off, lips parted, eyebrows raised when you spot Satoru dancing with another woman. His hands are on her waist, her hands are on his while she grinds into him.

“You sure about that?” Kei asks, looking in the same direction as you when he notices your expression.

You’re less sure about it now, heart sinking, feeling a lump in your throat watching as Satoru unmistakably moves his hips in time with a very enthusiastic person who isn’t you.

Satoru looks up but when your eyes connect you look down and away, heart beating rapidly in your chest trying to figure out if the fight you had was him ending things when he walked away or not.

“Yeah… yeah,” you lie, because there’s no way you’re going to tell this stranger using cheesy pickup lines on you about your tiny argument, “he’s just dancing- anyway, what were we talking about?”

He grins again, with more teeth than before, “I was just getting you this drink,” Kei says as he hands you a glass, letting the tips of his fingers graze lightly over yours. You smile and thank him while tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear.

There’s a hand at your waist, pulling you into a hard body while another grabs the drink you just accepted from your hands before you’re able to take a sip.

“Ready to go, babe?” Satoru’s tone is clipped with annoyance as he places the glass back on the bar, sliding it towards Kei.

“Nope,” you pop the last syllable, “I’m talking to my new friend.”

His grip around your waist tightens, “do you even know who your new friend is?”

“I’m Kei,” the man next to you says, extending a hand out to Satoru who looks like he’d much rather rip it off.

“I know who you are. Kicked your ass in a fight last year, and I’m more than happy to do it again.”

“Satoru!” You scold, looking up at him with an appalled expression.

Kei laughs awkwardly, looking between the two of you before pursing his lips, nodding his head in your direction, and leaving.

“Ready to go now?” Satoru snaps as you roll your eyes, grabbing your phone to send a text to your friends letting them know where you went. You would go to them and hug them goodbye but you don’t want your newfound sour mood to spoil their night.

The ride back to Satoru’s place is quiet, and tense from your end. He seems perfectly content with his actions, but your heart still feels heavy, seeing how easily Satoru was able to find someone to replace you with.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Satoru asks curiously when the two of you go up to his room, closing the door behind him.

You sigh, grabbing one of his shirts to sleep in before running your hands down your face, walking into the bathroom, “I just… want to go to bed. I’m tired.”

You take your time, removing your makeup and getting ready for bed, all the while contemplating your night with Satoru. Something you were looking forward to was ruined because of a stupid argument.

You decided that right now, it’s probably best to just get some sleep, see how you feel in the morning, and talk to Satoru about things then. Maybe you’ll feel better about the things that were said, and seeing him dance with someone else. You are tired after all.

When you come out of the restroom, he’s changed into a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his waist, showing off his perfect abdominals. You don’t say much, just climb into his bed and he follows suit, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you in closer to him when you don’t scoot in closer to him yourself.

You lay with your eyes open for a while, listening to his breathing before whispering, “You’re an asshole.”

He chuckles before nuzzling his face into the back of your neck, feeling the warmth from his body envelop you, “I’ve been called worse.”

The two of you lay in silence for a while, eyelids growing heavier and heavier, and as soon as Satoru begins playing with your hair out of boredom, you’re asleep within seconds.

When your eyes flutter open they're heavy, blurry and Satoru’s room is still dark, but you’re cold. The blankets you had gone to sleep under and strewn across the bed and Satoru’s warmth is gone, because he’s not in bed next to you.

You rub your eyes, getting the little bits of sleep out of the corner as you stand and stretch, looking around his room to find it totally empty, including the bathroom.

When you open the door to his room, you can hear music and buzz from conversations being had in the living room.

Curiously, you make your way to the steps and slowly make your way down a few before you spot Satoru’s head of white hair leaning back on the couch, long legs spread out wide in front of him, one hand in his lap.

He’s laughing, talking to someone, and when you take another step down, you see his other arm draped around the back of the couch with Mei, leaning in so close she may as well have her head resting on his shoulder.

Your eyes flicker between the two of them, heart plummeting to the floor when Mei looks up and notices you, sharp eyes narrowing in satisfaction with a salacious smirk as she moves closer to Satoru who doesn’t stop her.

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes and you swallow hard before turning back around, going back into Satoru’s room and quietly closing the door.

There’s a fine line to be danced when seeing something like this. You’re not really interested in running down the stairs and causing a scene; not after your argument and watching Satoru literally run off and dance with someone else, only to find him cuddled next to his ex-girlfriend later in the evening.

Instead, you quietly take the bag you packed to stay for the weekend and search around his room, grabbing the clothes that have been thrown around while getting ready to go out. When you walk into the bathroom to grab your toiletries, you hear his bedroom door open and close.

“What are you doing?” Satoru raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down when you step back into his room.

“You’re fucking unbelievable.”

“I mean, I like to think so too,” he smiles widely as he sits on the bed, grabbing your hand to stop you from throwing things into your bag.

You really don’t want to look at him, his big blue beautiful eyes. It hurts too much to think there’s a possibility of him lying to you, still seeing other women - Mei - and you’ve just been too oblivious to see it.

“Is there anything still going on with Mei?” You blurt out without really thinking about it, you close your eyes, running your free hand across your face, “Just… tell me now because I would rather not be made a fool of again.”

“No? We’re just friends. We’ve already talked about this.”

You yank your hand out of his grasp, “Right. And I’m just supposed to believe that after seeing you two cuddled together downstairs?”

“You’re mad at me? After I caught you flirting with another guy earlier?”

“You are such a hypocrite you know that?” You roll your eyes, grabbing the zipper to your bag and closing it, “I was just making conversation while you were trying to fuck someone else on the dance floor because I wouldn’t!”

He scoffs, folding his arms over his chest, “And now you’re accusing me of cheating!”

“What else am I supposed to think, Satoru? You run off and dance with someone else and then we come home and you leave me in your room for Mei, again.”

“I’m sorry, okay! I just- fuck!” Satoru stands, running his hands in his hair before pulling on the roots a little, “I’m sorry I’m shitty at being a boyfriend, just… please don’t leave.”

He grabs your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You give an indignant huff, his cologne invading your senses until you slowly wrap your arms around his waist.

“I’m sorry for being a dick at the club and I wasn’t tired when we got back, so when you fell asleep I went to talk with Suguru. Manami and Mei were already over, I didn’t think anything of it.”

“I don’t like her, Satoru,” your voice is muffled in his chest.”

“I know. But I promise nothing is going on with her,” he places two fingers under your chin, turning your attention up to him, “You're the only girl I want.”

You roll your eyes, trying to bite back the smile threatening to spread across your cheeks before he leans down and places a tender kiss on your lips, easing your worries.

Satoru has been putting in a lot of effort to show he cares for you, and making a new norm for himself within your relationship. You’ve only been together a few weeks.

It’s only fair to give him more time.

@petalsrdead @sugurunicorn @niki-sun @lilith412426 @sofiaconlaz @lxvephxbic @kash2 @violetsapplejuice @iam-mia9 @laylasbunbunny @creolequeen11210 @xiaosie @lem-hhn @s-witch-bitch @yogurttea @slut-jr @watyousayin @desthedemon @ritsatoru @faewithsnakes @abba-simp @myabae @hvziers @etherealkakashi

[emmaloo21butwriting]

hello! i love your writing and i don’t think it’s cringe-y at all :) i was wondering if i could request a yandere!peter pevensie x reader where it’s an arranged marriage, or he really wants to marry her or something. you can write whatever you feel comfortable with! i also think it’s very cool that you’re mormon, i have some mormon cousins! have a great evening <3

mentions of an older sibling(not given a gender) and I used she/her pronouns. I also wrote the reader as kind of stubborn but also gullible, and she wears dresses nothing else ebcause she is a “proper princess”

I may make a part 2((with multiple endings)) because this made me really hapoy

mentions of; braid-able hair, drugging of a drink, gaslighting, love bombing, check tags for more

“Mother! I find it unfair that I’m marrying a man I just met!” Y/n groaned, “Nor do I like him! He’s a lunatic! He’s killed so many kingdoms just so he could rule! I’m not marrying him, he just wants this one!”

“You will marry him whether you like it or not! Your older sibling is going to rule this kingdom, meaning you will need somewhere to go. Stop complaining and let me braid your hair!” Her mother cried, “I don’t care what you think! I will say where you go! The ball is tonight and I expect you behave and are sweet to him. Or you are in serious trouble!”

“Yeah, whatever, just hurry up!” She whined.

•••

Y/n walked into the ball, not knowing she was going to the first girl there.

“Y/n!” Peter grinned, running up the stairs to her side.

“How are you, love?” He asked.

“I’m well,” she said, trying to walk past him.

“Darling, where are you going?” He acted calm, but was quite furious.

“I was going to get a drink,” She really wanted one of those cookies, they looked delicious.

“Oh, here, follow me, I’ll get you something in a second,” He grinned at her, then winked at the guards.

The guards shut the doors, no one else in there but them.

He had her sat on his throne.

“I find this unprofessional-“

“We’re going to be husband and wife, why should we be professional?” He laughed, kissing her.

He got her a drink and a plate of cookies, right next to her, standing.

She tried to act offended, but she was so glad.

“Do you want anything?” She asked, kindly.

“I’m alright,” he chuckled, “I ate before.”

She took a sip, then split it on her dress.

“Oh..” she seemed said.

“It’s alright, I’ll get you a new one, would you like a jacket.”

“A new dress? Oh, it’s alright. They are so expensive-“ She blinked, her head blanking for a second, then taking another sip of the punch, “This tastes so good.”

“Nothings to expensive for you,” He kissed her forehead, she smiled, then fainted into his arms, he took the drink from her.

He lifted her up into his arms, taking her out of the ballroom and into his bedroom, laying her onto the bed.

•••

Y/n woke up, groaning.

Peter sat at her side, she turned her head to him.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“What?! Why am I in here?!” She got up, still dizzy, but ready to fight.

“You fainted, I brought you in here, do you feel okay?” He asked.

“I fainted? From what?” She got up, glaring at him, in her underdress.

“Don’t be rash, you’ll get hurt.” Peter said.

“I’m not being rash! I’m trying to save myself from you! You’re a psycho aren’t you?” She was at the door, he grabbed her, hand over her mouth.

“A psycho?” He held her, she was fighting.

“I’m the HIGH king of Narnia, my love. We get married tonight, aren’t you excited?” He squished her cheeks, grinning, she was terrified.

—

totally just noticed mistakes lol, updated 4/21/24

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender No Outbreak AU - Ch. 5

The Miller family grows. The final part of the Lavender No Outbreak AU, continued from Ch. 1-4 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut :), Some slurs (anti-LGBTQIA+ - they are immediately rebuked). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 4.3k

Tuesday, September 14, 2021 

“Hey Doc?” Jess slid up beside you at the nurses station where you were reviewing charts. “That one kid from Boston is here for the trial? She’s that special case?” 

“Oh right,” you said. “God, thank you for reminding me. Swear I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached this week, I’m just all over the map.” 

You’d been scrambling for weeks to get everything in place for the first clinical trial the hospital was facilitating since the COVID-19 pandemic. You hadn’t fully realized just how much the pandemic had taken out of you before that, just how much had changed. 

It was like you’d been in total crisis mode for a year, all the time. It had damn near fried your brain. You basically lived at the hospital. When you were home, you slept in the garage, where Joel had set up a cot and TV and a loveseat, too afraid of getting him or Evie sick to go in the house. You smiled at your husband and daughter through glass, wanting more than anything to just touch them. The second everyone was vaccinated, Joel held you for hours, clinging to you like a man at sea clings to a life raft. 

It was so hard, now, to do anything normal. Your mind kept scattering, trying to find the crisis that needed solving first before it could do anything like planning or building things out. Arranging the trial had been an uphill slog. 

“What’s this kid’s name again?” You asked. 

“Ellie,” she replied. “She’s a character, I think you’ll like her.” 

Jess knocked once on the door to the hospital room and opened it. Inside was a small girl, maybe 12, playing a video game on the TV. Something where she was shooting zombies. You smiled a little. She paused it. 

“Hi Ellie,” Jess smiled. “I wanted to introduce you to Dr. Miller, she’s going to be running your trial and the lead doctor on your case.” 

“Hi Ellie,” you smiled. She looked you up and down. 

“Hi,” she said. “So you’re the one who’s going to go poking around with my blood and junk?” 

“Yup,” you popped the p. “We’re going to run some tests, steal as much blood of yours as we can to feed the vampires in the basement, and then hopefully get you so that you’re not coming in and dealing with people like me quite so much. Sound good?” 

She considered you seriously. 

“You really think you can make a difference?” She asked. “Because going to the hospital all the time is kind of bullshit.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Yeah, that must get old real quick,” you said. “And it’s probably not fun having to give up your blood and stuff all the time, huh?” 

“Yeah, that part really sucks,” she slumped back in her pillows.

You frowned, getting the sense that she wanted to say something else. 

“Want to tell me all the stuff that sucks about it?” You asked, coming and sitting on the edge of her bed. “I might be able to help.” 

“Can you help find me parents who will deal with taking me to the hospital all the time if this doesn’t work?” She asked. “Because I’m pretty sure having a broken kid is a deal breaker when the people who want to adopt someone start shopping around.” 

Your heart broke a little in that moment. Her face was hard, her small chin jutting out defiantly, but she was hurting. You knew she was.

“Well if they wouldn’t take care of you when you’re not feeling well, they’re not the kinds of parents you’d want anyway,” you said. 

“How would you know?” She muttered. 

“I don’t have parents either,” you shrugged. She looked at you, skeptical. “And not just because I’m old. I never had parents, my dad left before I was born and my mom left two months after she had me. It sucks, I get it. 

“But trust me, there are a lot of parents I see in here who are good and a lot who aren’t. And the not good ones? It’s better to have no parents than them,” you said. “So really, you just have built in protection. Immunity from the extra crappy parents.” 

She laughed once. 

“Maybe I should keep the screwed up blood then,” she said. 

“Nah, think we’ll fix that,” you said. “Make sure you’re all set and ready to take it easy once you’re a grown up. Just give all the potential parents a really tough questionnaire. See if you can trip them up. You seem smart, I think you can weed them out with enough practice. OK?” 

“OK,” she half smiled at you. 

The rest of the day went by and your mind kept drifting back to Ellie. You grabbed Jess on her way down to the cafeteria. 

“Hey,” you said quickly. “Ellie, where is she staying while she’s here for the trial?” 

“One of the group homes,” she said. “It’s not ideal but it’s the only arrangement we could come up with and the trial would be really good for her…” 

You nodded slowly and thanked her before ducking outside and calling Joel. 

“Hey Baby,” he answered. You were almost surprised. His contracting business had picked up quite a bit in recent years and he spent most of his days running from job site to job site to manage progress. He couldn’t always answer the phone on the job.

“I know you’re busy so I’ll make it quick,” you said. “How would you feel about becoming foster parents?” 

Tuesday, October 5, 2021 

You got your third daughter for your 43rd birthday. 

Jess had helped speed you and Joel through the process to get approved to take her home, Sarah almost strangely OK with you dismantling her old room to make it something Ellie would like, excited about getting her new sister.

You’d given Ellie your tablet one day during lunch, letting her go on Amazon and pick out bedding and decorations for her room. You’d had to transfer care for her to another doctor - though she still got to stick with the trial - but it was worth it. 

She and Joel became such fast friends it almost made your head spin. You introduced the two one day when he came by to meet you for lunch. Ellie was playing her zombie game and he asked if he could join in. 

“Don’t want you dragging my stats down,” she said. 

“Think I can keep up,” he replied. She looked skeptical but handed him the second controller, anyway. Joel, you were happy to say, did surprisingly well. He even tallied more kills than Ellie did. 

“No way,” she said. “We’re trading controllers, mine doesn’t work right.” 

“Tellin’ ya,” he said. “Nothin’ to do with the controller and everything to do with how you handle the scenario…” 

He traded controllers anyway. He bested her a second time, shrugging with a slight smile. 

“You dick!” She laughed. He laughed back. 

When you left the room he put his hands in his back pockets and sighed. 

“Can’t let her go to a group home,” he said. “Just throw her in the car and bring ‘er home, fuck the rules.” 

You kissed him, not sure you’d ever loved him more. 

“Oh cool, you didn’t say you had a pool!” She ran to the sliding glass door, pressing her nose against it before looking back at you. “Can you teach me to swim?” 

“Sure,” you smiled. “Might be a little cold to now but…” 

“Think I can handle it,” she replied. 

You showed her around the house, introduced her to Evie, left her to settle into her room and sat next to Joel on the couch. 

“Happy birthday, Baby,” he kissed your temple. “Been a good one?” 

“Oh cool!” Ellie stuck her head into the hall. “There’s a freaking telescope in here?” 

She ran back into her room. 

You smiled.

“Pretty damn good.” 

***

Tuesday, August 29, 2023 

Joel wasn’t exactly thrilled to get a call from Ellie’s school when they’d barely been back a week. 

“Mr. Miller,” the woman on the phone said. “I’m afraid we couldn’t reach your wife but Ellie has been fighting at school…” 

“On my way,” he replied, yelling instructions to Tommy as he jogged to his truck. 

He wasn’t quite sure what to do here. Sarah and Evie had hardly been scrappy girls. Sure, they had some behavioral issues here and there - Evie got into the bad habit of sneaking out of the house her senior year of high school, something that worried both you and Joel to no end. 

But neither of them had ever thrown a punch. 

At least, as far as he knew. 

Ellie, strangely, was more like him than either of his biological daughters. He saw it when she played her video games, the way she got worked up and invested in them. He saw it when she noticed some kind of injustice and stomped off to try to handle it herself, resorting almost immediately to physical solutions instead of trying to talk it out. Joel understood her better than you did. 

But even though Ellie was on the scrappy side, he doubted she’d have started hitting someone unless she had a damn good reason. He just needed to figure out what it was. 

You pulled into the parking lot behind him, parking alongside his truck. 

“Hey Baby,” he pulled you in for a quick kiss. “They said they couldn’t reach you.” 

“Yeah, I was closing when they called,” you replied. “I got the message only a few minutes later and just got changed and ran over… There has to be a reason, right? I mean, Ellie is Ellie but she wouldn’t hit someone without a damn good reason.” 

He smiled a little at you. 

“Told you lately that I fuckin’ love you?” He asked. “Because I fuckin’ love you.” 

You led the way into the building, beelining for the administration offices. Joel recognized the look in your eyes. It was the look you got when something had pissed you off and you were going to fix it, come hell or high water. 

It was a look that had made you advance at the hospital, knowing exactly when to use your tenacity to go after something you thought needed to change, knowing exactly how to go about it to make it happen. Whether it was making nice with the right people or going scorched earth, you always seemed to find the right way to navigate it. 

Joel almost felt sorry for the staff as you walked into the office. He knew your scorched earth look when he saw it. 

“Hi,” you said. “We’re the Millers, Ellie Williams’ parents. We were told she was here?” 

“Of course,” the woman led the two of you back to a counselor’s office. 

Ellie was sitting in the corner, arms crossed, her eye black. She looked pissed, like she was on the verge of tears.

“Oh Baby Girl,” Joel went and dropped to his knee in front of her, taking his face in his hand. “Who hit you?” 

“Stupid girl,” she muttered. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Miller,” the counselor smiled tightly. “I’m afraid we have a problem here.” 

“Yes,” you said, not taking the woman’s outstretched hand. “I’m afraid we do. Is there a reason my daughter clearly hasn’t been to the nurse’s office? She doesn’t have an ice pack for her eye, who knows what other injuries she might have…” 

“Well, the girl Ellie hit is in the nurse’s office now,” the woman responded, defensive. “We can send Ellie down after…” 

“No need,” you replied. “She’ll be coming home with us until we can establish whether or not your school can provide competent care for our child.” 

“Well, your child hit another student,” she said. “In front of several teachers. She threw the first punch. The first several, actually…” 

“She started it!” Ellie yelled. You gave her a look and she sat back in her chair, muttering. “Well, she did….” 

“Did you talk to this other girl?” You asked the counselor, eyebrows raised. “Or did you just blame my child because she’s newer to the district and in foster care?” 

“I can assure you, Ellie’s status had nothing to do…” 

“Ellie,” you turned to her. “Why did you hit the other girl?” 

She looked at you for a second before looking to Joel, her eyes pleading. 

“Come on, Baby Girl,” he said. “You have to tell us what happened or we can’t help you.” 

“It… it involves bad words,” she glanced at the counselor. 

“You can say them,” Joel said, looking at the counselor too, all but daring her to try to tell him otherwise. 

Ellie sighed. 

“She called my friend Riley a dyke,” she looked to the floor. “Said she was going to burn in hell…” 

“And that’s when you hit her?” You asked, voice calm. 

“No,” Ellie looked up. “Then she said that she wanted to kill all the dykes to send them to hell faster. Then I hit her.” 

Joel felt his blood get hot. Didn’t matter that it was toward another teenager, Joel wanted someone to hurt. He glanced to you, your jaw squared, and you looked back toward the counselor. 

“So you just let children in your school use genocidal language toward other students?” You asked. 

“Mrs. Miller…” 

“It’s Dr. Miller, actually,” you cut her off. “Since you apparently didn’t bother to look in Ellie’s file and see what her foster mother does for a living, I’ll fill you in. I’m the chief of pediatric surgery for the largest hospital system in Austin which means I know every single social worker in the county. I’ve treated the children of some of the most powerful people in the state because they seek me out. I am more than willing to call in every single favor that I have - which I promise is a lot - and leverage every single cent I own to personally destroy you and everyone in this district who allows such behavior to run unchecked. I will orchestrate a PR nightmare so thorough you won’t recover for years. You will have to beg Ronald McDonald for a job slinging fries by the time I’m done with you, do you understand me?” 

The woman glanced at Joel who just shrugged. He wasn’t about to help her. She was lucky she was dealing with you, you were just threatening her livelihood. He was tempted to threaten her life.  

“If you want to keep your job,” you said. “You’re going to investigate this incident as thoroughly as possible. You are going to remove that other girl from this school before she hurts anyone else. You are going to institute new training procedures so your faculty and staff know how to handle incidents with LGBTQ students because, apparently, that needs some improvement around here. Think you can handle that?” 

“I’ll discuss it with the principal,” her eyes were a little wide. Joel smirked. 

“Good,” you replied. “I’ll be in touch to follow up. In the mean time, I’m going to take Ellie home as an excused absence to make sure she receives appropriate medical attention for injuries she received while under your care. I’ll also be reaching out to my attorney to make sure any and all liability in this case is appropriately considered.” 

You stood up and Ellie stood up with you. You put your arm around her. 

“Come on,” you said. “We’re going home.” 

Ellie pressed herself against your side and gave you a quick hug before she climbed in Joel’s car. 

“For the record,” Joel said. “Not sure I’ve ever wanted to fuck you more than when you were chewing out that counselor.” 

“Good to know I can still turn you on,” you teased before you sighed. “So, Ellie’s friend…” 

“Always kinda figured,” he shrugged. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready.” 

“Yeah,” you said. “See you at home?” 

He kissed you. 

“Hopefully more than see you.” 

That night at dinner, Ellie only picked at her food, moving it around on her plate. 

“We’re not mad at you, Baby Girl,” Joel said, looking at her. “You know that, right?” 

She sighed. 

“I know.” 

“Want to talk about anything?” You asked. 

“You called me your daughter,” she said. 

Joel looked at you for a moment. 

“Well yeah,” Joel shrugged. “That’s how we think of you. We can use another word if you’d rather but…” 

“OK but if I’m your daughter why haven’t you tried to adopt me?” She asked, looking between you. “I mean, if you just don’t want to…” 

“Oh Baby Girl,” Joel leaned in closer to her. “Do you want us to adopt you? Because we just didn’t want to do anything that you weren’t askin’ for. We’d love nothing more than to adopt you.” 

“Really?” She asked. 

“Of course!” You smiled. “What, you think we let just any ol’ gremlin come in here? Just the special ones.” 

She smiled a little at that. 

“Cool.” 

You started the paperwork in the morning. 

Saturday, October 7, 2023 

Joel had been looking for a good reason to take all his girls camping and your birthday seemed to be a good a reason as any. 

Sarah came with Brandon and Carson, who was now five. Evie was happy for an excuse to get away from college after a bad breakup with her girlfriend. Ellie was just excited to get to spend more time with her sisters. Even Tommy came with his wife, Maria. Just when they’d started to expect him to never settle down, he met the perfect woman. Unlike Joel, he wasted no time in locking her down, a fact he loved to rub in. 

And Joel? He was just happy to have all his favorite people under one roof. 

He’d rented a cabin big enough that you and him would have some space - since he fully intended on making you cum until you couldn’t see straight - and grabbed steak and hot dogs and enough junk food to feed a small army. 

Sarah still lit her marshmallows on fire for Smores but Joel caught her stealing some of Brandon’s less burned ones when they were all around the campfire one night. He took Carson and Ellie down to the lake and taught them both how to fish while you and Sarah stayed back at the cabin to chat, the two of you still the best of friends decades after he’d first hired you to be her nanny. He made the mistake of letting you pick the hike one day and he paid the price when Evie - who’d always been clumsy - twisted her ankle. Joel had to carry her back to camp, you cursing yourself for not packing more first aid supplies in your hiking bag. Ellie set up her telescope in a clearing and spent hours looking at the stars, far enough from the city lights that she was in awe of them. 

“Good birthday?” Joel asked as you climbed into bed beside him the last night there. 

“Perfect birthday,” you kissed him. 

His hands drifted to your breast and you smiled against his mouth. 

“Some things never change, do they?” You teased. 

“You stop wantin’ it and I’ll stop doin’ it,” he replied, sliding a hand over your body to your leg, hitching it over his hip. 

“You know me so well.” 

He undressed you slowly, taking his time touching you everywhere he knew you loved his fingers to linger. When you tugged his pants down, you took his length in your hand, working him up and down for a moment, before you took him in your mouth, so hot and wet he had to stop himself from moaning too loud. You sucked him slowly, working your way down his thick shaft until you were nearly choking on him before going back up again, moving harder and faster each time, your tongue pressing against the thick vein that ran on the underside of him. 

“Fuck, Baby,” he groaned. “Tryin’ to make me cum before I’m even inside you?” 

You choked out something that sounded like a ‘no’ from around his cock and he groaned. 

“You get just another minute of that,” he said, straining to keep his composure. “Want to cum inside your pussy, not your mouth.” 

Just when he felt like he couldn’t take anymore, he grabbed your hair and pulled you off him, panting for breath. You wiped your mouth. 

“Here I thought you liked that,” you whispered. 

“More than liked it,” he muttered, grabbing your hips and yanking you toward him with a quiet yelp followed by a giggle. “Gonna have to do something to make sure you keep bein’ that good to me…” 

He dipped his fingers into you, making you groan. He smiled. 

“This wet just from suckin’ me off?” He breathed. You moaned in response. “Fucking hell, you really are the perfect woman…” 

He added another finger and leaned down, taking your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking you while his fingers opened you until you came so hard it felt like you might snap off his fingers.

Joel slipped his fingers from you and ran them over his cock, using your wetness to make him slick enough to enter you. He notched his head against you and settled between your legs, pressing into you in one firm, demanding stroke. 

“Fuck,” you panted, your back arching. “So full…” 

“Love you full of me,” he said, grinding himself against you before pulling back and pushing into you again. 

Your arms went around his neck as he picked up the pace, pressing his cock all the way into you with each stroke. You pushed yourself up off the bed and he smiled, kissing you as he helped you to straddle his lap while he was still inside you. He held you close while you rose and fell over him, thrusting up to meet you with every firm stroke. Your breasts bounced with the force of it, your head tilted back in pleasure as he sucked and licked his way up and down your throat. 

“Joel,” you breathed. “Want to cum with you. So close…” 

“Fuck Baby,” he groaned as you moved harder, faster, angling your hips so his stomach pressed into your clit while his head caught on the spot inside you that made you moan. He liked to think of that spot as his place in you, where he’d been made to reach and satisfy. Never did he feel as complete as when he was inside you, making you cum around him. 

“Joel,” you gasped as you started to cum again, clinging to him with your whole body. He thrust into you once more before filling you. 

“Love you so much,” he kissed you, your body pressed tight against his own. “Fuck, I love you.” 

When things went back to the normal routine after the camping trip, Joel printed off a picture that Sarah had taken on her phone during the hike. It was just before Evie had twisted her ankle and everyone was smiling, the frame filled with the faces of everyone Joel had ever loved. 

He wrote on the back of the picture, as though he’d ever forget who any of you were to him: “My girls + Carson, Me, Tommy, Maria and Brandon - October, 2023.” 

You worked until after seven that night. Joel made dinner - nothing like what you could do but you kissed him like you thought it was a gourmet meal all the same - and Ellie was out with her friend Riley. 

“Anything you in the mood for this evening?” He asked, pouring you another glass of wine. 

“Nothing in particular,” you smiled. “Oh, we could watch When Harry Met Sally! Such fantastic fall vibes…” 

“I think I can handle that,” he smiled a little. 

“I mean, it is your favorite movie,” you smiled back. “I’ll clean up if you want to get it queued up?” 

He found the movie on the Apple TV and was about to set it to play when he glanced at the record player in the corner. You’d painted little purple flowers along one side of it. They’d faded and chipped a bit since but he still loved those little flowers, a physical representation of you. He lit the candle on the coffee table - lavender scented, one of your favorites. He pulled out Slowhand and set it to play Wonderful Tonight just as he heard the water cut off in the kitchen. You laughed, leaning in the doorway to the living room. 

“Clapton, hm?” You asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Well, when the song stops bein’ true, I’ll stop playin’ it,” he held his hand out to you. You smiled hugely and took it, tucking yourself against him. He held you close, swaying in time to the music, the smell of lavender on the air. 

You stretched up to kiss him as the song ended and Joel turned the record player off before settling in beside you on the couch, glass of wine in hand. 

“I think our little ‘how we met video’ for this movie would be fun,” you said during the opening credits. “Me, a college girl with a crush…” 

“Me, an old man who was practically head over heels for you from first sight,” he said. 

You laughed. 

“Think we’ve made a pretty good go of it though,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes. 

He smiled and kissed your forehead, surrounded by your warmth, the signs of the children you’d raised with him, and the smell of lavender. 

“Wouldn’t change a damn thing.” 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this overly long exercise in "What would happen if?" I like to think this version of Doc and Joel are living in Austin right now, happy with their girls.

Thanks for being here, thanks for sticking with it, thanks for being a part of this. Love you all!

[buckets-and-trees]

He Bought a Studio

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Natasha Word Count: 4.3k Summary: In an alternate universe where Steve stayed, Natasha lived, and everyone settled down in the Big Apple, this chronicles a Winter Soldier's decent into opening up a dance studio for the Black Widow he's become totally besotted with in super soldier retirement, and many things that come with it. Almost titled, "Five Times Natasha Romanoff Was Right To Be Suspicious Of Bucky Barnes."

Content/Warnings: brief smut (oral female receiving), fluff, feelings, a goddaughter, soft former assassins

Additional Notes: Filling my eighth square for Bucky Barnes Bingo @buckybarnesbingo - B4 "Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow" and clocking in week 7 of Hot Bucky Summer to fill the prompt "Who's This?"/my pet, my lover, my slave.

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ONE

With reputations that rivaled each other as the world’s most efficient assassin and effective spy respectively, Bucky and Natasha were too suited to each other to ever forge a life with anyone else. They could compete in skill and intellect, they challenged each other, but more than anything else they understood each other – bleeding ledgers something they didn’t have to explain, good and bad days reconciling the past something they didn’t have to clarify. No judgement.

It's also difficult for either of them to surprise the other.

But she can admit she was not expecting anything even close to this.

She blinks furiously, using the pretense of rotating on the spot to take in the space – its smooth hardwood floors and pristine mirrored walls haunting in the mostly-darkened room, one of three or four in the facility if she had assessed correctly – to turn away from his intense gaze directly on her face for a moment.

“You bought a ballet studio,” she says, the words still thicker through her throat than she had hoped they would be.

The feelings competing in her chest are at once heartbreaking and hopeful.

He just hums in confirmation.

“You bought a ballet studio,” she repeats, this time a whisper, but she knows he hears. He hears everything, including the racing of her heart.

Bucky reaches for her hand and tugs her back to him. “Don’t you want to know why?”

“Because you have too goddamn much money from the government settlements?”

“That and my sister loved to dance. You loved to dance. You could dance again.”

“You gonna dance with me, Barnes?” she teases.

He shakes his head and laughs, opening his mouth to protest, but she cuts him off.

“No excuses – between when you grew up and the dance training all Russian assets got, I know you can dance.”

“Agree to run the dance side of the Barnes Ballet Academy and I’ll dance with you whenever you want,” he says, pulling her into his chest and arranging them into an appropriate dance position, one hand holding hers, the other moving to the small of her back.

She yields for a moment, resting her head against his shoulder, and he begins to sway them back and forth slowly to some imaginary music.

“Why did you really buy a ballet studio, Buck?”

He sighs, then kisses the top of her head. “We can’t have everything together, but I can give you this. It’s not…”

He can’t or won’t finish the sentence, but she swallows painfully and then finishes it for him. “It’s not kids.”

“But these rooms can be filled with them every afternoon. Since I bought the studio, I will take care of all the business, and you can just worry about dancing and coaching. Besides, what else is a retired super soldier supposed to do?”

TWO

When she closes the door of the Brooklyn apartment behind her, it’s the wrong kind of quiet.

She fully expected to hear Bucky in the kitchen getting dinner ready or maybe on the phone with the contractor, a choreographer, another instructor, or the parent of a potential student.

“Barnes?”

No answer.

Something is not right. The lights are on like he’s home, but there isn’t a single sound, and all her instincts from her former life kick in, eyes scanning the living room, weight shifting forward on her feet, adopting a predatory stance. Moving down the hallway, she slips her hand behind one of the pictures on the wall, retrieving a gun stashed there only she and Bucky know about, and continues moving slowly and silently on.

Then she hears a scoff from the study.

Natasha’s brows knit together. A scoff?

As she rounds the corner into the study, an immediate assessment of the room is enough to tell her she has no need for defense and lowers her gun. Her boyfriend is on the couch, back to her, engrossed in watching something on his phone with noise-cancelling headphones in. She glides back into the hallway to replace the weapon so it’s at the ready in case of a real threat in the future, and heads back to investigate. She places a hand on his shoulder, and he turns abruptly, smiling when he sees her and pulls out an earbud.

“What’s a girl got to do earn her supper around here?”

He glances at his watch. “Oh, sorry, Nat! I lost track of time with this,” he says, gesturing to the iPad on his lap.

“What are you even watching?”

He smirks, but she can detect a trace of embarrassed color his cheeks. “Save the Last Dance. Here,” he takes her hand off his shoulder and tugs her around the couch and pulls her onto the cushion beside him. He then grabs the remote, turns on the flatscreen television, and throws the movie up from his tablet so they can both watch. “I was only ten minutes in, so we can start over from the beginning.”

Natasha snorts. “You’re really watching this?”

“Of course, I’m watching it! I own a ballet studio! It’s important for me to have a full understanding of the cultural benchmarks and stereotypes that are part of the dance world.”

“What, are you going to watch every dance-centric film and television show out there?”

“Maybe I will,” he responds, a defiant cock of his chin.

Now she just grins and cuddles up into him. “Fine, but I’m ordering in Thai,” she says and taps away quickly at her phone to secure their dinner. When she sets her phone down, she notices there’s also a stack of DVDs on the shelf under the TV, and she can see four of them are from the Step Up franchise, a copy of Center Stage, and Dirty Dancing and Dirty Dancing: Havannah Nights.

For the next few days, Bucky seems to be watching one of the many films he’s continuing to accumulate or an episode of So You Think You Can Dance or Dance Moms either actively or in the background whenever it’s convenient. He’s always a bit incredulous though in his idle commentary and many unconscious scoffs when the latter is playing.

“You know you don’t have to finish that,” she says.

“I always finish what I start, Romanoff.”

“But you do know there are eight seasons, right? It’s important to me that you know there are eight seasons.”

“And I will happily watch them all.”

“Happily?” she jeers.

“I said what I said.”

“Nerd.” She rolls her eyes, but affectionately, and heads out for her meeting with a potential guest choreographer for the girls. There are so many parts of this life she never would have predicted for herself, and a boyfriend obstinately binge-watching reality tv about the dance world wouldn’t even have made the bottom of the list of possibilities.

THREE

For all the dance tv and movie consumption she’d had by proximity when Bucky had started down this ballet studio ownership journey, nothing had prepared Nat for the reality of it.

The way these girls showed up was endearing.

Some of them were a little trying, but they also all tried to do their best. Ballet was demanding and it could be competitive, but Nat worked diligently to establish a teaching staff and culture that focused on grit and community as much as it did on technique.

It was harder with the parents. Some of them still jockeyed for standing both for themselves and their offspring.

She certainly appreciated some of the parents and guardians more than others, but she didn’t want to discount any of them since, for better or worse, they all played integral parts in the lives of her girls, and those experiences affected how they could show up any given day on that dance floor.

Steve’s one of the parents who plays a part in the community, his five-year-old Sarah – Nat and Bucky’s goddaughter – just old enough to start in the youngest class of ballerinas. Steve’s somewhat adopted one of the giant hulking men – Kyle, who’s a single father to one of the other girls in Sarah’s class – always making sure the working-class man feels comfortable and like this can be “the village” that helps.

Nat’s speaking with both men when she feels the intensity of a gaze she’s grown intimately familiar with.

Bucky’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and he’s in conversation with his assistant and two of the community dance class instructors (ballet runs every afternoon, but to make use of the facility and to generate enough money to make it financially sustainable, he’s implementing evening classes across disciplines for adults from simple barre and Zumba to ballroom).He’s talking to them, but he’s mostly looking at her, and when they lock eyes, he glances down to his own hand, then flicks his eyes back up to her before returning his focus to the three people in his immediate vicinity. She takes the hint, and watches as his right hand taps out a message in morse code on his vibranium bicep:

Need you in the office.

Natasha doesn’t frown in front of Steve or Kyle but gives a believable excuse to extract herself and makes her way to the office, navigating with purpose but without drawing attention to their office. He knew the schedule of this place like clockwork, and so to pull her away this close to a class almost never happened.

Within forty-five seconds, she hears his steps approaching and then the turn of the doorknob ahead of his entrance.

She arches one eyebrow, but, Oh…

She knows exactly what that look means.

She can’t help the low laugh that erupts from her chest, but it’s cut off immediately as he crosses the room and claims her mouth in a kiss, lips searing heat, desperate, consuming. His hands were already slipping into the top of her leggings, and his fingers hitched into the band of her underwear, pulling them down in one smooth motion as he forced her back to his desk. He’s never miscalculated anything in his life, so she doesn’t hit the desk clumsily – he lifts her deftly to deposit her on the smooth wooden surface the split second before her hips would’ve knocked into it.

No one else had ever engulfed her with this kind of passion, and she would never get enough of this, of him.

And yet as he trails his lips down the column of her throat, she has to protest, “Buck, I have to be back out there in five minutes.”

“I know. Still need you.”

When he laves his tongue at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, her head rolls back, and she moans, but then she pushes against his chest. “You can wait, you’ll survive.” Though she isn’t quite sure she could now that he had her blood running hot for more.

“Fine, I don’t need you,” he concedes, but then he looks directly into her eyes and his voice drops, “I want you now, and you know I always finish what I start, Romanoff.”

His hands move up her bare legs, thumbs caressing the crease at the top of her thighs, too close to her cunt not to make her heart race, and he smirks.

“Barnes…”

He sinks to his knees, ducks under the fabric of the only partially removed bottoms, and slots himself between her legs, pulling her hips to the edge of the desk before he spits on her slit.

“I can apply my efficiency,” he asserts and presses a kiss onto the tender flesh of her inner thigh resting over his shoulder.

“Cocky bast–”

His mouth directly on her clit cuts her off abruptly. Her folds were slick for him with the intensity of the previous moments, but he mixes her arousal and his spit with his thumb and then slips two fingers inside her channel, seeking the spot he knows so well, the one he knows will quickly bring her to her peak. He makes only a few slow strokes while licking her bud before speeding up, determined to make good on his promise.

Natasha hands go to his head, fingers both carding through and gripping his hair. He hums against her pussy, and her breaths come in short gasps as he continues hurtling her toward ecstasy on the tips of his fingers and tongue. He earnestly strokes her g-spot and then turns his licks to fervent sucking of her bud, and that does it, white heat breaking over her, all her muscles seizing up and then relaxing as he pushes her through it.

She shakes her head, laughing again when he looks up at her, the expression on his face one that would be too smug if he hadn’t earned it. He truly knows her expertly, intimately, in every way.

He extracts himself from between her thighs and helps her redress while she catches her breath. “I wanted you now,” he says, “but for the rest of the afternoon you’ll be thinking about how much I’ll need you later.”

Nat glares at him teasingly. “I have to go out there and–“

“Or you don’t. You have an assistant coach.”

“Unlike some of us, I’m nothing if not a goddamn professional.”

“In every way,” he agrees, though his tone changed. Warmer. Softer. “I’m more than aware.”

And now her heart races again, not due to the physical ministrations but for the undeniable devotion behind those words. She pulls him close again for a sound kiss, which he returns, encircling her softly in his embrace.

After a moment he pulls away and lets her go.

“Two minutes to get to the classroom,” he says. He opens the top right drawer of his desk and pulls out a tin of mints, offering them to her and taking a couple for himself. 

FOUR

Natasha hears the clink and slide of metal as Bucky’s key finally slots into the lock of the front door, and so she slides off the counter and turns on the panini press. She doesn’t make much else, but she’s become a bit of a sandwich artist and can make many a good combination, upping her game with grilled sandwiches after the acquisition of the panini press for her birthday.

God, they were so stupidly domestic now, and it was terrible and wonderful all at once.

“You’re finally home!” she calls out from the kitchen, hearing him stride down the hallway towards her. Strange, he usually drops his keys and hangs his jacket before settling in.

“Hi,” he says, popping his head around the corner.

Nat frowns. “Barnes, why are you home so late?”

They often took turns getting home late with different things going on at the studio, but usually it was with a hello and straightaway the explanation since they both care so much for everything happening in their dance world.

He slowly steps around the edge of the doorframe and into the kitchen, cradling the bulge of something held within his jacket.

“Barnes?”

He takes a few steps closer. “My queen–“

“You have never one day in your life called me your queen,” she interrupts, still wary, but now also bemused.

“I could, though. You know I'm your lover, a willing slave to your every wish.”

“You are two feet away from me, stop pouring on the charm and stalling and show me what’s in your jacket.”

His eyes are sparkling with mischief and his smile is sheepish as he looks down. It made her heart already melt and want to bend for whatever is coming. The thought crosses her mind that it’s a look he must’ve had on his face countless times when he was growing up.

“I didn’t ask you before buying a dance studio, and, full disclosure, I already bought everything we need – that being part of why I’m so much later tonight – and we can take it all back if you say no, but I rescued a cat from the alley behind the studio today.”

And with that, he turns and opens the front of his leather jacket to reveal a snow-white cat who looks very cozy tucked in where she was against his chest. Nat knows how comfy it is to be tucked up against that exact spot, it’s one of her favorite places to be.  

Nat just grins and shakes her head. Stepping forward, she slowly extends her hand toward the cat. The feline inclines her head, sniffs the tips of her fingers, then bumps her head to stroke herself against Natasha’s hand.

“You are such a softie,” she says, pulling Bucky down by the collar and planting a kiss on his lips.

“So, we can keep her?”

“Yes.”

He kisses her again, then leans down and places the cat on the kitchen floor. “Right, Alpine, you stay here with Nat, and I’ll be right back with your things.”

And in less than a second, he’s already out the door.

Nat puts the sandwiches she had already prepared on the grill, pulls the press closed, and then turns back to look at the cat, who is sitting primly back on her haunches and watching her.

“Alpine, huh?”

The cat blinks up at her.

“This man. How’d HYDRA’s most ruthless assassin end up like this, eh?”

Alpine takes a few steps forward and brushes up against her leg before turning and then heading out of the kitchen, likely back to the door to wait for Bucky.

FIVE

Nat approaches the bedroom doorway silently, preparing to surprise the two individuals laughing inside, but then the peals of laughter and tiny giggles cease, and she hears two bodies plop onto the bed – one big, one small. The door is slightly ajar, and she can see the super soldier and his goddaughter panting, sprawled out on the bed, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the ceiling. She loves seeing Bucky like this with Sarah and so decides to give them another moment and observe from the darkness of the hallway.

“I still don’t want to go to bed.” Nat’s face splits into a smile, knowing this Sarah mode all too well. Though it is difficult, summoning up all her godmotherly skills and fortitude, she can handle it well enough when necessary, but Bucky? No way.

“I know. But you’re already on your bed. I’ve won.”

“I don’t want to go to sleep, Uncle Bucky!”

“I’ll read you two picture storybooks or as much as you want from a chapter book, and then sleep. How’s that for a deal?”

“Deal!”

Nat stays in the shadows as she watches Sarah jump down from the bed, run to her bookshelf, and return with what looks like one of her Ramona books. Sarah thought she’d gotten the best deal, tricking her godfather into more reading with a chapter book, but Nat knows Bucky always wants Sarah to pick the latter because it means he’d read to her until she is softly snoring.

Sarah Marie Rogers has the former Winter Soldier irrevocably wrapped around her tiny fingers – had done since she was born and had only become more adept over the years at making him melt time and time again.

And it is as she’s watching him smooth Sarah’s hair down and pull the covers up over her little body with such tenderness that Nat knows why he’d brought home a cat last month, bought a building to turn into a dance studio a year and a half ago, and asked her on a date three years ago.

Her.

Sarah had changed everything.

Logistically, Steve had retired, and that removed him from the orbit of their team and their missions, resulting in slightly more time that she interacted with Bucky before they retired, but she’d never sat back and critically analyzed what had changed before that.

Sarah had changed her, too, no question.

But now she can see it.

Sarah was the first baby born close to Bucky, and he’d been smitten and over the moon about her immediately.

She was the first thing the man had loved unconditionally and without apology, a love unrestrained that he had never experienced in possibly any way similar since before he went away to war. Bucky didn’t have to justify it, it just blossomed, taking root in his soul, fully uncovering in a flash the warmth that had mostly been buried for ninety years and probably would have taken so much longer to emerge otherwise. 

“Sar, I gotta ask you a question,” Bucky says as he settles in next to Sarah with the book, drawing Nat’s attention back to the moment at hand.

She knew that tone – playful but with something serious underneath. She is always suspicious of that tone.

“Okay.”

“Let me show you something first.” Bucky digs into his pocket and pulls out a sparkling engagement ring.

Nat’s heart leaps into her chest, and it is only due to a lifetime of training to be imperceptible at all times that keeps her from gasping outright at the sight.

Sarah did gasp and ooooh appropriately though.

“Is that for Auntie Nat?” she chirps with excitement.

“I think so. I know you wanted me to marry you, and I still will if that’s what you want, but what if I married Auntie Nat?”

“Hmm,” she reaches out and delicately traces her tiny fingers over the ring Bucky was letting her examine. “That might be okay.”

“You sure?”

“Well, I was thinking, you’re going to be really old when I’m finally ready to get married.”

“Oh, that might be true,” he agrees, barely holding back a laugh.

“Yeah. You might be really wrinkly when I’m done with school, and I was thinking maybe I would marry someone else instead.”

“Sar… you say that like you already have someone in mind…”

“I don’t know for sure, I’m still deciding if I want to marry them or not!”

“Is it someone in your class?”

Nat bites her lip, grinning. She was certain she knew exactly who was being considered after seeing the kids in Sarah’s class picking up her goddaughter a few times from school.

“Maaaaaybe.”

“Well, okay. Only if I approve. Do you approve of Auntie Nat?”

Sarah nods eagerly. “I do. She is pretty, and kind, and the best ballet teacher, and she makes you laugh, and she does my hair in the good braids, and she is so smart, and always takes me for ice cream when I ask her, and has loved me my whole life, so I think it would be okay if you marry her.”

“Those are some of my favorite things, too,” Bucky says. “If you promise to keep it a secret that I’m gonna ask her, I promise you can be the flower girl at the wedding, deal?” He palms the ring and extends his pinky finger.

Without hesitation, Sarah locks her pinky with his. “Deal!” she agrees, beaming up at him. “Now read me my book.”

She snuggles down into his side, and he rolls his eyes. “You are a demanding little thing.”

“Daddy says it’s good to let people know exactly what you want.”

“Of course, he does.” Bucky leans down to kiss the top of her head, then wraps his arm around her and opens the book on his lap so they both can see as he starts to read, and Nat decides to retreat to the living room to let them have more time together.

SIX

Nat rolls her shoulders and yawns, turning to lay on her back. She frowns upon discovering Bucky’s side of the bed is uncharacteristically empty, the happy weight of Alpine sleeping atop the blankets at foot of their bed missing as well.

Then she registers a piercing stare from across the room and leans up only to see Bucky sitting in the decorative armchair they almost never used. He is stroking Alpine behind the ears, happily curled up in his lap, but his eyes are locked on her.

“Um, good morning, Cyborg.”

“You know.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t certain when it happened, but then I thought about it all night.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I had grand intentions, but you overheard everything last night. I didn’t hear you creep up on us, which means you must’ve gotten there when Sarah and I were making a ruckus, but I did hear you slip away when I started reading her Ramona, so you already know I’m going to ask you to marry me.”

Nat sits up and smiles. “Oh. That. You can still pursue your grand intentions.”

“Nope, they’re ruined.”

“But I don’t know what your grand intentions are! You could still surprise me!”

“Nope, you’re expecting to be surprised.”

“You love that kind of challenge!”

“Nope, I’m obstinately averse now. I’ve decided I won’t be satisfied by anything else than seeing my ring on your finger straightaway.”

“Then you better get over here and ask me,” she says simply.

He stands, depositing Alpine softly on the chair behind him, crosses the bedroom, and kneels next to Nat’s side of the bed. With one hand, he grabs both of hers, with the other, he holds out the ring, gleaming against his black vibranium fingers. Then he lifts his gaze to hers, and all the sullen staring from moments before has melted away leaving only the pure adoration he holds for her.

“Will you?” His voice is thick with emotion.

“You know I will.”

“I don’t want to do anything except share the rest of my life with you,” he says, delicately but decisively slipping the ring onto her finger.

Nat pulls his face up to hers in a fierce kiss, and he crawls up onto the bed with her, wrapping her up in his arms, and laying her back down, ready to express again, as they had so many times over the past few years, how much they mean to each other in every way. They make vows with their words, their lips, and their bodies, giving themselves over completely as they already had, and as they would in perpetuity.

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[quinloki]

Welcome to today’s ’what’s been rattling around in my brain’

Bc I think I have you to thank/blame for this but I can’t remember, it’s mafia Marco tho so….. close enough…..

Ok so picture this. Bodyguard Marco right, but he’s actually from an opposing family being your bodyguard bc his actual face is relatively unknown. I’m thinking devil fruits still are a thing and he normally just shows up as the phoenix, or works on the backend healing people Izou is torturing for info (WHY IS THAT HOT I WILL UNPACK THAT IN THERAPY SOMEDAY)

Anyways! Your family is up and coming and keep getting in the way, and they find out about a bodyguard posting for the boss’ kid. Marco’s got some fake (or real) documents of some like, ex military combat doctor stuff and some letters of recommendation from like idk shanks Or something so he’s an easy pick. And he’s good at the job, not the least bit weird or overbearing. Polite. Never complains about where you wanna go or what you wanna do, just taking in any info he can.

And then dun dun dun arranged marriage for combining families but the person you’re supposed to marry is the worst. Like gross disgusting. And as the wedding approaches Marco realizes that well, he’s gonna be out of an info source anyways once you marry, so maybe the jig is up. But he’s gotten fond of you, and maybe at this point they have enough to totally sink your family. But he doesn’t want you to come to any harm! So he slips a little something into your food and out you go while he takes you back to his family.

And like damn at first it’s like red flag omg creepy you just got kidnapped but then you realize…: well now you don’t have to marry that icky guy, and Marco isn’t a bad person …. You’re given more freedom to come and go here too, without constantly being under your father’s control so maybe it’s not so bad…. And really Marco is so sweet and a much better match than that other guy anyways. And he did this for you after all, bc he couldn’t let anyone else have something he wanted

>.>

(WHERE DO I SIGN UP???)

Idk where this has come from but idc I’m enjoying it and thought you might also enjoy <33333

This sounds like something @mamaalpha needs to be held accountable for too - because it reminds me of the Marco x Reader idea we had.

I say had, but we're currently conspiring behind closed doors on a collab for it (no rush, we're both pretty swamped right now), but that said the idea is similar to this with a few differences.

So I won't get into too much.

Though >.> I like the idea of devil fruits for this (idk if it works for what we're going to do, but for this) cause yeah, uh, Marco healing people that Izou's working on. >.>

uh

I don't even think I'mma worry about unpacking that in therapy to be honest. I'mma just sit here and enjoy it XD It reminds me of the line in A Light Touch (is it arrogant to talk about my own work? whatever, I'm gonna do it anyway) - the idea being "Will you come to fear the [flames] that heal you more than the pain?"

Whew.

Just gonna chew on that for the rest of the day I think.