#knowing me i probably took 45 hours

[edwardslostalchemy]

I finally finished to program I signed up for. 😭 It's a certification program and my goodness I'm not just tired but I want to sleep for 2028384 hours. It was so much. It has been a very stressful week not only with the doing things for my new job but also doing this and I haven't gotten much sleep these past few days. I'm gonna sleep so great tonight.

[starbuck]

been thinking about Them so i redrew a screenshot to cope (it made me worse)

[seekingthestars]

got my hair cut today (haven't had it cut since early april) and it always looks good when a stylist blow drys it but it's always sorta a toss up of if it'll look good with my normal styling (which is basically nothing lol) so the jury's out until tomorrow BUT

right now i really like it 🥺 i got a bunch cut off and i feel so much better 🥺

[unfortunatelyilikebnha]

Guess who just checked all 76 aranara locations in one sitting 🥰 <- do not do this

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Interstate 40 | Tyler Owens x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You go into labor. 

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Thanks for requesting. xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

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********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

! Warning: child birth, blood, pain !! 

You were out at the barn, filling the chickens feed and water when Tyler stormed into the barn. You’re pretty sure you saw smoke coming out of his ears, his face red. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He asks immediately taking the scoop from you, “you’re supposed to be resting! Doctor’s order!” His eyes are large as he stares at you. 

You wave him off, “Tyler come on, I’ve been doing this the entire pregnancy. Nothing new to me.” You yank the scoop back from him, “I was going stir crazy laying in bed.” 

You were 9 months pregnant, 39 weeks to be exact, ready to go into labor at any time. Your body was ready, but baby Owens had yet to say they were ready just yet. Your doctor had told you to take it easy after a fainting spell. Everything checked out, baby Owens was perfectly healthy and your doctor gave you the green light to head back home and get some rest. 

Tyler had took this very seriously, making you stay in bed, and insisted on waiting on you hand and foot. He’d only left you alone for an hour to run into town to get groceries. 

“What if something happened out here while I was gone? huh? What if you fainted and hit your head or something?” 

You sigh, seeing his point, “I’m sorry.” You frown, “but Tyler, really I was going crazy. I needed to do something.” 

“knit the baby a blanket. Something where you’re not on your feet.” He grabs your shoulders, leading you out the barn. 

“Tyler-” you groan, “you know I don’t know how to knit!” 

“Perfect time to learn then.” 

As the two of you near the porch, you get a cramp in your stomach. It wasn’t too strong, but you noticed it. “ooh.” You clinch your eyes shut, placing a hand on your stomach, and bending over slightly.

“What? Oh god, is it time? See I told you-” 

“Tyler, chill.” You take a deep breath, the pain easing. “I’m sure it’s just Braxton hicks. I’m fine. I’ve been having them every little while.” 

“are they consistent?” 

You shrug, “I honestly don’t know. I haven’t paid too much attention. That’s the first one that's been more intense.” You start up the stairs of the porch. 

“You could be in labor.” Tyler says following you, “We probably need to head to the hospital.” 

“I promise I am not. We’ll know for sure when it's time.” You sigh, taking a seat on the rocking chair. 

“You’ll let me know if they get worse right? You know the nearest hospital is an hour away.” He warns. “You have to let me know in time. I am not delivering our baby on the side of the highway.” 

~ 

“You told me they were Braxton hicks!” He argues. He’s currently speeding down the interstate, swerving in and out of traffic. People are honking left and right. 

You let out a scream, hand gripping his shirt in one hand and the other on the grab handle. 

Tyler screams with you, in full blown panic mode. You were still 45 minutes away from the nearest hospital. Your water had broke a little bit ago and soon after that the contractions began to get more and more intense, and closer in time. Your labor was progressing fast. 

You’re doing your lamaze breathing, trying to stay calm, “I’ve never been in labor before, how was I supposed to know I was actually in labor?!” 

You groan as another wave of a contraction hits, “Tyler something-” You reach down to feel, bringing your hand back up, fingers covered in blood. “S-Something is wrong.” 

Tyler glances at your hand, his heart drops, face going pale. if something happens to you.. or the baby. He’d never forgive himself. He shouldn’t have left. He should have forced you to go to the hospital earlier. His foot goes heavy on the gas, engine revving loudly. 

A new feeling shows itself, “I feel like I need to shit-” Your eyes are wide, staring at Tyler. “Tyler- oh fuck I’m about to have this baby on the side of the god damn interstate, aren’t I?” 

“Don’t panic-” He knew enough from hearing stories to know what that meant. That was the key indicator baby was coming and it was coming NOW. “but yes.” 

“oh my god!” 

He’s immediately pulling the truck to the side, horns blaring as he cuts someone off. He comes to a skidding stop, jumping out of the truck. He’s throwing the door open on your side in a split second. Now it’s him who is calm. He’s rolling up his sleeves, pulling out his phone to call 911. He’s delivered a calf before. Same thing right? 

“I am NOT having this baby in your truck!” Your panicked eyes find his calm ones, shaking your head. “I can wait until the hospital.”

“You have no choice.” He helps you slide out of your pants in the seat, simultaneously telling the 911 dispatcher what’s going on, your location and gathering supplies he needs. Where did this calm, collected Tyler come from? He was panicking only 30 seconds ago. 

You scream, a searing pain felt down below. 

Tyler peeks and sees a head full of hair, his eyes widen, “you definitely can’t wait. baby is coming now. push baby-” 

It only took one push before Tyler caught the baby, laying her on your chest and drying her off with a towel. “it’s a girl!”

Emotions are running high. Tears are being shed. You’d just given birth, Tyler delivering your daughter. Your heart drops; she’s quiet on your chest, “Why isn’t she crying?”

“Come on baby girl-” He finally stimulates her enough and she lets out a loud cry. It triggers more tears from both you and Tyler. A sigh of relief. 

Tyler’s kissing you through the tears, “You did so great baby.” A proud smile on his lips as he stares at his two girls. He cups your face in his hands, “That was fucking amazing.” 

~

The EMS showed up not long after, checking over you and the baby. Both healthy. They get you on the stretcher, your baby girl wrapped in a blanket in your arms. As the emotions of your baby being earth side, the reality hits you. You gasp, “Tyler.” You cover your mouth in shock. 

“Hmm?” He hums, looking up from your daughter. 

“I just gave birth to our daughter in your truck on the side of the interstate.”  

He chuckles, “Yeah you did. That was more bad ass than getting caught in the middle of a tornado.” 

~ 

Don’t know how I feel about this one. I had a whole vision but writing it out proved to be difficult. 

Comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 

[gojonanami]

SIT IN MY LAP - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: you and satoru take your daughter to see santa at the mall, and satoru proves that he's just as much of a match for his daughter, as he is for you. ✴︎ contents: fluff, domesticity, satoru being a cute girl dad, crack, innuendo, daughter's name is satomi, implication of pregnancy, wc -> 1,350

Satoru Gojo was blessed in almost every single way — from his cursed technique to his looks, but the thing he was not blessed with was patience. 

“We have to wait how long?” Your husband grumbles as you two wait in seemingly a line longer than the Nile itself all to take for your precious daughter to take a picture on Santa’s lap. 

“I don’t know how long, Toru, it’s probably going to be 45 minutes at least,” and you swear he pouts more then your three year old does, “Santa is very busy this time of year, isn’t he, baby?” You ask your sweet daughter and Satomi only grins up the two of you, after she insisted on standing on her own. 

“Very busy,” she repeats, and Satoru softens for a moment before he sees the long wait still ahead even as the three of you round another corner of Santa’s miniature workshop they had built in the middle of the mall, “Daddy gotta wait with us!”

“Why can’t Daddy go to the car and take a nap instead?” He grumbles, and you roll your eyes. 

“Because daddy has to be in the picture with Santa, otherwise you’ll end up on the naughty list,” and his lips curl, “and not the good kind of naughty list,” you add in a whisper. 

“Daddy has already been naughty!” Your daughter exclaims as Satoru stares down at her dumbstruck. 

“What?” 

“You ate my pancakes this morning,” she huffs, and you stifle a laugh at Satoru’s indignant expression 

“I took one bite—“ but her glower said she did not care, “only three years old and already turning on me,” he mutters, “who carried her this entire time around the mall when she didn’t wanna walk? Doesn’t that earn me some points?” 

“Well I think you’ve been a good boy, aside from the impatience,” and he’s sporting a glower similar to your daughter now, as you giggle between the two of them, “how about this? We’ll all have a treat when we go home if the two of you behave,” and you lean to whisper in Satoru’s ear, “and if you’re a really good boy, maybe I’ll sit in your lap tonight,” 

And he perks up at your words, eyes raking over you, “And are you going to tell me what you want for Christmas?” 

You kiss his cheek, warmth blooming where your lips touched, “I think you know,” 

And a small blush settles over his cheeks, even as he grins shamelessly, whispering, “Have you been a good girl this year?”

You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Definitely not,” your lips skim his outer ear, drawing a shiver from him. 

“Daddy are you cold?” Your daughter notices, but you scoop her up in your arms. 

“Daddy is running a little hot I think,” you chuckle, as you watch him try to adjust himself, his tight pants doing little to help his situation, “he’ll be fine, right?” 

And he pouts again, “I’ll be fine,” he presses a kiss to his daughter’s forehead, “can’t say the same for your mom when we get home,” 

Finally, after many brain cells lost and almost an hour of time, you reach the front of the line. “Santa” sits in his chair, looking quite jolly, despite having to deal with children all day, and he welcomes your daughter, who, for all of her spunk when dealing with her parents, now was hiding behind your leg. 

And before you can say anything, Satoru is kneeling beside her, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He’s running his fingers through her soft white locks, “do you want daddy to go with you?” 

And she considers it, lips in a cute pout that’s all too similar to her father’s, and then nods, “daddy, come with me,” 

“Of course, baby,” and his fingers intertwine with her smaller ones as he takes her up. You hang back a little, your phone ready and poised to take pictures and a video, as you beam. 

Santa holds your daughter as he asks her what she wants for Christmas. Your daughter says something half whispered that you can’t make out, but Satoru does, his cerulean eyes widening slightly before his lips curl into a grin. 

And before you can ask what she said, you’re pulled in to take a picture. You three leave, Satomi in her father’s arms, nestled on his shoulder, peacefully sleeping, “what did she wish for?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 

He snorts, “Sworn to secrecy by Santa,” 

“What’s that? A hidden confidentiality clause?” And he only smiles, as you roll your eyes, “pun definitely not intended,” 

“I’ll tell you when we get home. Too many prying elves here,” he jerks his head at one of Santa’s elves sitting on a bench, clearly on their break with earbuds in either ear. 

“I don’t think they care about a three year old’s wish,” and Satoru’s lips part and eyes comically big in mock offense. 

“This is not any three year old — she’s the next Gojo heir, my successor, the fruit of my—“ and you glare, “our loins,” 

“More like mine,” you cross your arms, tilting your head as you glance at your daughter, “you’re not the one that pushed her out,” 

“Yes I’m the one who put her in there—“ and another scowl makes him clam up, smile bit back, “I’ll tell you when we get home, after I get you on my lap that is,” he adds with a grin. 

“Oh yeah, I don’t know if you’ve been so nice though,” and his free arm slides around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead, curling his lips. 

His voice low as he murmurs in your ear, “The real question is if you have been, baby.”

And finally, when Satomi is fast asleep in bed — arms and legs tangled in her blanket like a menace, you emerge from her bedroom, sighing, “finally down,” you collapse on the couch beside him, lying your head on his shoulder, as his arm wraps around you, pulling you close, “are you gonna finally gonna tell me what she wished for?” 

And he hums, mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “Sit in my lap, and see,” and you tilt your head, but you slide over his lap, sitting with your knees on either side of his waist, “good girl,” 

“Satoru—” and he’s kissing you slowly, lips meeting yours in a languid kiss and you can taste the sweet hot chocolate on his lips he drank earlier. 

“Been waiting to that all day,” he murmurs, gaze leaving a trail of heat as it slid over his body, and his hands follow, squeezing your hips and making you lurch against his hips, “definitely on the naughty list from that noise,” he grunts. 

“Weren’t you supposed to tell me what Satomi wanted?” You mumble against his lips, as they meet again, before pressing kisses down your jaw and the hollow of your throat. 

“Oh, we wanted the same thing,” and you raise an eyebrow, and he’s grinning up at you, “she wants a sibling,” you breath catches — both at his words and at his darkened gaze — and you can feel his erection press against you, his fingers digging into the flesh of your sides, “wanna make a Christmas wish come true?” 

And your heart flutters, “do you think we’re ready?” You had been talking about possibly having another kid, Satomi was getting older — ready to start school soon enough — and you wanted your daughter to have a sibling to grow up with. 

Satoru’s gaze softens, his palm sliding across your cheek, as you lean into his touch, “I know we are — as long as you want it to,” and you can almost see it now — a little boy with Satoru’s blue eyes and your hair, nights spent up with the baby, days spent as a family, the baby sleeping on Satoru’s chest as you do Satomi’s hair, and another piece of your family complete. 

So you kiss him, lips sliding gently against his, and you smile at him, “Luckily, you both knew exactly what I wanted for Christmas.” 

✴︎ note: i don't celebrate christmas, but i got this cute fic idea in my head and i couldn't get it out lol. i love girl dad satoru.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 5- Miles Between Us

Summary: Frankie's decision to join the Army was the catalyst in the collapse of your friendship. When he's forced to reconcile with his past, packed away in boxes in his childhood basement, he finds pieces of you in everything he's left behind.

Word Count: 5.0K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, lying, guilt, military deployment, FEELINGS, Frankie's mom not putting up with his shit

A/N: IT'S TIME TO PEEL BACK ANOTHER LAYER OF THE ONION, BABY!!! I hope you guys don't hate me that this is a slow burn- I know this is not how I normally write at all, but it's been really fun to build this story up bit by bit (if you hate it though, please tell me lmao 💀) I'm excited for this chapter and how it hints at next chapter (we're finally getting to some smut y'all, omg) Thank you as always for your kind words, it makes my day to hear what you have to say about these two 🥺💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Age 17, Spring of 2006

“You’re late, Morales.” 

“Can’t be late to something we don’t have a set time for, Anderson.” 

It’s true, you and Frankie have never set an official schedule for your afterschool ritual, but it never seems to fail that at 3:45, only 10 minutes after you’ve gotten home from soccer practice,  he’s at the foot of your bed with his forest green Jansport backpack, ready to complain about the homework he doesn’t want to finish and the tests he has no interest in studying for, just so he can keep you company while you stress yourself to death about the same assignments. 

And for as much as he hated school work, Frankie was never late. Never. So to watch him mope into your bedroom an hour later than his usual arrival time, it almost would have been safer to assume he was dead than anything else. 

“What took you so long? Get lost on the way here?” You joke, trying to keep it light while still prodding for an answer about his absence as you write down the answer to the math equation you’re trying to solve. 

“No. Don’t worry about it.” 

There’s been very few occasions you’ve seen Frankie so stoic. Even on his worst days, he’s at least still got a little tolerance left in him for your stupid banter. It’s enough to draw your attention completely away from your homework and onto him. 

“What’s wrong? Why are you being so weird?” 

You can tell then that something’s clearly not right, the way he’s angrily yanking loose papers and textbooks from his backpack and nearly slamming them onto the edge of your bed, making you gnaw anxiously at the end of your pencil you’d been using. 

You’re too nosy for your own good to let up until you find what you’re looking for. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Well obviously something’s wrong.” 

“What? I’m not allowed to be late, ever?” 

“No? Frankie, I just asked where you were and you’re acting like I’m asking you if you just shot the fucking president or something. What’s going on?” 

“It’s nothing, MacKenzie!”

“If it’s nothing, then why are you so upset about it?” 

“I’m not upset!” 

“You clearly are? Frankie, what the hell are you-” 

“I’m joining the Army, okay?!”

Out of all the things you could have expected to come out of Frankie’s mouth, that would have been at the bottom of your list. In fact, it’s so out of left field, you’re not even quite sure you believe him. 

Your forehead hurts from how tightly your brows are knitted together in confusion, scowling at Frankie with a dumbfounded intensity that probably had you looking like you had just gotten an unsuspecting whiff of the world’s most sour lemon. 

There’s no way he’s being serious. He can’t be. 

“Ha ha, very funny, Francisco.” You mock, frown still splayed across your face, “Now will you please tell me what’s actually going on?” 

His silence makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. You can feel the way your face falls, the muscles once tensed in adamant skepticism now sinking into a quiet panic. You can hear each breath as it flows in through your nose and out through your mouth, blood pounding louder and louder in your ears with each pulse of your veins. 

“Frankie, if this is one of your stupid jokes, it’s not funny.” 

“It’s not a joke.” 

His eyes are still peeled to the floor, too afraid to bring himself to look at you. All he can do is stare at his pinky toe, poking out of the hole in his socks that he refuses to replace. You wait for what feels like hours, days, for him to say something, but his silence is deafening. And the sound of Frankie’s silence is the scariest thing you’ve heard in a very long time. 

It’s so terrifying, the only thing you can do to cope is fill the quiet void with your rambling and pray that Frankie Morales is choosing to play the world’s worst joke on you. 

“What- what do you mean? Frankie, I thought- When you and Santi talked about doing the same thing as Will- I thought you were fucking kidding? What about college? We already both got accepted to Florida State, what are you gonna do-” 

“I didn’t get in.” 

Please let him be kidding. Please, please, let this be a sick joke. 

You can feel your confusion starting to bubble into anger, jaw clenching at the way Frankie’s too coward to even look in your general direction, gaze still glued to that stupid fucking hole in his worn down sock. 

“Frankie, what the fuck? We both got accepted back in January? You’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time?” 

“I didn’t wanna lie, okay?!” 

He’s riddled with enough guilt to speak up, trying to keep himself from the brink of tears as he works up enough courage to finally look you in the face. You can hear how hard he gulps, like his heart is bobbing in his throat, trying to buy all the time he can to come up with a reason for his deception that won’t hurt you any more than he already has. 

“I just- fuck,” he sighs, chewing at his bottom and bouncing his leg against the bed so intensely it’ll make him sore the next day, “I didn’t know what to do, Kenz. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.” 

It’s hard to stay mad at him when you know he means it. It’d be easier if it weren’t for the way his brown eyes flooded with disappointment in himself, spilling out in tears onto his cheeks. For as frustrated as you are, you have enough sympathy to ease up on him enough to at least try to understand. 

“Well, not lying to me about it for the last four months probably would have been a good start.” You huff, the air that puffs from your nostrils still tainted with the let down you’re trying so hard to not let override your conversation. 

You can���t help but let yourself find a spot next to him on the edge of your bed, a peace offering that you hope is enough to signal to him you’re willing to listen to what he has to say. 

“I- I didn’t think you were being serious when you and Santi were talking about it. I- I thought you- I thought the plan was to go to Florida State. Together. What happened, Frankie?” 

It’s quiet for a few more moments. Frankie takes a few, slow deep breaths as he runs his hands through the curls twisting at the nape of his neck. The silence isn’t as bitter as before, but it stings enough to gnaw at the edges of your nails, the anxious habit you can’t seem to break, and certainly have no intention of giving up right now.  

“Stop chewing at your nails, Kenz. You’re gonna be pissed at yourself later.” Frankie sighs, gently grabbing your wrist to pull your hand away from your mouth, trying to fulfill his duty of being the one to stop you from ripping your nail beds to shreds. 

“You’re kinda making it hard not to.” You try your best to attempt a laugh. It’s the only way to keep yourself from crying. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?” 

“Y-yeah.” Frankie re-adjusts himself on the edge of the bed, twisting the fabric of your comforter between his fingers, trying to ground himself in the reality of the truth he’s forced to tell you, “I- I didn’t get into Florida State. I told you I did because I didn’t know what I was gonna do. You were just so excited when you thought we both got in and I- I panicked and I lied. I didn’t even think I was gonna get in anyways. I didn’t think I was gonna get in anywhere. Even if I did, I don’t know if I even could have afforded it. It’s just me and my mom and neither of us-”

“It’s not too late. I can help you look for scholarships. To help you with tuition. I’m sure that there’s a bunch out there that you could apply for. I’ll even write your essays and stuff for you if you want me to-” 

“I’m pretty sure you can’t do that, Kenz. Plus, you hate cheaters.” 

Frankie tries to reciprocate the same half-assed laugh you gave him. He looks over at you, the small smile he’s forcing to keep between his lips quickly fading as he sees the way you’re pleading with him to realize that you would forge a thousand essays in his name if it meant he wasn’t going to leave you. He’d be a cheater you’d gladly forgive. 

“It’s not even just the money. I just- I- I don’t even like school, Kenzie. I suck at it. If school is already hard now, how much harder is it gonna be when I get to college? To study for a job that I’m probably not even gonna want when I graduate? At least with the Army I can have a job and benefits and hopefully make enough money to help my mom so she’s not working at the hospital 6 days a week. MacKenzie, the only reason I applied to Florida State was because of you. I thought that maybe there would be some miracle I got in and I could figure out how to pay for it and I could magically get smarter and better at school so we could spend the next four years together. I wanted it to happen. I wanted it to happen so bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you. I just- fuck- I just didn’t know how to tell you.” 

Neither of you are quite sure what to say next. That quiet comes back to fill the space between you, allowing enough room for the silent sobs you’re both trying your best to hold in, small sniffles still escaping from each of you. You’re not sure if your brain has fully processed what he’s had to say. The only thing you can understand is the swirling of sadness and confusion in your gut and the pounding ache in your chest. 

You take a scooch closer to him, the outsides of your thighs barely brushing together as you tilt your head to rest against his shoulder. It’s heavy, the weight you can’t help but lean against him, but the arm he wraps behind your back and around your waist tells you that he’ll gladly take it. He’ll take it all, if he has to. 

“Did you already sign a contract to go?” The whisper of your words is so soft, like you’re hoping he can’t hear you. If he can’t hear you, then he doesn’t have to tell you the answer you don’t want to hear. 

“Yeah. Me and Santi did a few weeks ago.” His voice is almost quieter than yours, convinced he has the same idea as you. 

His truth stings worse than the lie he’s been masquerading behind the past four months. You want to scream at him- To curse him with shouts and sobs, question how he could make this choice for himself and leave you in the dark until it’s too late for you to change his mind. You know it’s selfish, the way you want him to stay, the way you would have fought with every bone in your body to keep him from leaving. You know it’s the reason Frankie couldn’t tell you. 

It’s the same reason why Frankie couldn’t bring himself to tell you that if he had given you that chance, he probably would have stayed. 

“Do um- do you know when you have to leave?” 

It hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. It’s an admittance of defeat. Because once you ask that question, there’s nothing you can do or say that will make him stay. No fighting, no begging, no pleading. You have to accept he’s leaving. 

“Not ‘til the end of the summer.” 

“Where?” 

The more you ask, the more it makes you want to keel over the edge of the bed and vomit, the reality of it all setting in at an alarming pace. 

“Missouri for basic training. I don’t know where after.” 

He doesn’t have to say where. You both know. Even if he doesn’t know the exact longitude and latitude of where the Army will deploy him, there’s nowhere else they’re sending him besides Iraq or Afghanistan or whatever godforsaken, war ridden country in the Middle East he’ll be forced to put his life on the line for. 

And for how much the reality of Frankie leaving scares you, when you’re hit with the reality that Frankie may leave and never come back, you’re absolutely terrified. 

“I don’t want you to go, Frankie.” 

You can’t beg him to stay. There’s no amount of bargaining you can do with him or the powers that be to change what’s been done. All you can do is tell him your truth as you sob into his chest while he holds you. Maybe if you’re not enough to make him stay, you’re at least enough to make him want to come home. 

You’re not sure how long he holds you while you cry. Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours. However long it is, all the moments you have left with Frankie feel that much more precious. You won’t let any of them slip through your fingers. 

“You promise you’ll come home, right?” 

“I promise, MacKenzie. I promise.” 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Francisco Morales, it’s that he’ll never break a promise. You just hope the universe is kind enough to let him keep this one, too. 

“I promise that we’ll have a really fun summer together before I leave too, okay? Whatever you wanna do, Kenz, I’ll do it.” 

“Anything?” 

It’s enough to peek your head out from the crook of his neck, trying your best to wipe away your tears with your sleeve, like you hadn’t just stained the better part of Frankie’s sweatshirt with the same wetness. 

“Anything.” 

“Alright, well, I guess we’re gonna go to Dairy Queen and get an extra large blizzard every day until you’re too fat for the Army to want you anymore.” 

The two of you giggle, a quiet symphony of soft snorts and sobs at the idea of rolling an ice cream filled Frankie off to boot camp. It makes him laugh even harder that he wouldn’t put it past you if you really did try. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you did. 

“Whatever you want, MacKenzie. I’m all yours.” 

Frankie, Present 

Frankie’s convinced he might as well start training for a marathon at this point. 

He’s not really sure how else to spend his time. It’s hard to keep himself occupied when all he can do at home is sit around and wait for your dad to die or stare out the window like a creep to watch your comings and goings. 

At least if he’s running, he can’t think about you. 

Well, he can’t think about you as much. 

It’s been a day and a half since he decided to follow you on your run. He’s already pushed his luck enough that you didn’t damn near kill him for it, let alone that you even gave him a chance to talk to him. 

He let you take the first  shift on the morning yesterday, despite the fact he’d been awake well before the sun rose. The irony wasn’t lost on him at the way he watched you through his bedroom window the same way he did most Saturday and Sunday mornings for the first few years of your friendship. You’d be up at the same ungodly hour as him, except you’d be pacing up and down your driveway, stretching and lunging across its length as you clicked around on the iPod wrapped around your forearm, searching for whatever song would pump you up for your run. 

It wasn’t until you had finally noticed Frankie peering out his bedroom window every weekend that you began to drag him along on your runs with you. 

“If you’re awake too, you might as well come running with me, Morales. It’ll be fun!” 

“Fine. I gotta warn you though, Kenz, I am actually pretty fast.” 

“You barely run the mile in gym class.” 

“Savin’ up all my energy for when I need it most, Anderson.” 

There was once a time where you would have to beg Frankie to come with you on a run. Now, he’d give anything for you to tolerate his existence ten feet behind you. 

But he’ll sacrifice another run alone through all too familiar roads of his childhood subdivision if it helps him kill time and keeps you from hating him anymore than you rightfully deserve to. 

Yesterday, he went on two runs to pass the time. Hell, today, he’d consider adding a third run to his underwhelming schedule just to keep himself busy. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell yet) for him, Maria Morales has other plans. 

And when Maria Morales has plans, it’s in Frankie’s best interest to drop anything else he had in mind for the day. 

Even when it means he’s got a hot date with his basement and a mountain full of boxes in his basement. 

“Okay, anything in this pile to the left is for you to go through.” His mom grunts, lifting up one last box to add to the heap labeled “Francisco’s things” in her perfectly curved cursive, “If you want to take it home, find an empty box to put it in, but not my new clear, plastic bins, entiendes (understand)? Those were expensive.” 

“No clear plastic bins, got it.” Frankie chuckles, following the exaggerated step his mother takes over his scattered belongings. 

“If you see something and you don’t want it now but you want me to keep it for later, you can put it over on the shelf by the stairs. If you think it’s basura (trash), leave it over here and let me look at it first before you throw it away.” 

“Comprendido (got it).” Frankie nods, sizing up the stack his mom has set out for him, “Jesus ma, this is gonna take me all morning to go through.” 

“If you were home more, there would be less things to go through now.” 

“Yeah, well, you got me there.” Frankie grumbles under his breath, grimacing at the harsh reality of his mom’s words. He knows isn’t meant completely out of malice, but he can’t deny it’s certainly got some truth to it as well.  

“Okay, well I need to go run some errands, and I want this pile sorted by the end of the day, so standing here and moping certainly isn’t going to help that. Get to work, mijo (son).” 

His mom will never be one to throw a pity party for anyone, and most definitely won’t be throwing one for her son, based on his own, self-inflicted problem. Frankie helps her step over another makeshift pile scattered for sorting across the basement floor, giving him a quick pat on the back before disappearing upstairs, leaving him to quite literally unpack his past. 

“Fuck. Okay.” He sighs to himself, gently kicking one of the edges of flimsy cardboard at the bottom of the tower, trying to formulate his best plan of attack to make his sorting as painless as possible. 

He’s thankful that his brain has always worked in a way that allows him to analyze things so quickly, doing some quiet calculations in his head as to the most effective and efficient way to sort through god knows what may be hidden in the pile his mom has created for him. 

He runs his hand through the still messy curls of his morning bed head before selecting what feels like the lightest boxes and moving them off to the side, opening up a cardboard container from the next layer. 

Besides the trophies still in his room, every prize he’d ever won for every sport he’d ever played sits in the box below him. Frankie chuckles to himself, picking up some from the top to examine them, thumb gliding over the fake gold plating to read plaques like “Florida Junior Divisional Freestyle Swimming Finalist- 2005” or “Regional Championship Winners- Florida Firebirds 2007” glued to poorly sculpted plastic statues of swimmers. A few more medals and certificates had sunk to the bottom of the box, Frankie quickly grazing through its contents before rehoming it to the “trash” pile, unsure of when he would ever need proof he won several swimming competitions in high school. 

The next few boxes were more of the same- His varsity jacket, old t-shirts he wouldn’t stand a chance fitting into, considering the gangly figure that stretched them more than a decade ago, some old books from high school he’d only kept because of how much you loved them and he promised you that one day, he’d read them, too. 

It’s the shoe box that catches his eye next, sure that no matter how much his mom loved to hoard, whatever was in there most definitely was not a raggedy, holy pair of Converse from high school. 

It’s not until he picks up the box that he knows exactly what’s inside. It’s one of the lightest things he’s picked up in the last hour, but when he knows the weight of its contents, his arms want to tremble. 

It’s with a long deep breath that he brings the shoebox over to an open patch of floor, letting out a grunt and cursing his knees as he sits down cross legged with the box in front of him. He gently flips open the lid, hand running over his face and down the back of his neck when his suspicions are confirmed. 

Open envelopes spill out over the edges of the worn cardboard, the box stuffed to the brim with every letter you’d ever written to him while he was away.

Even if he wanted to, he’s not sure he could ever physically bring himself to throw them out. Those letters have more miles on them than most people’s cars will ever reach in a lifetime, flimsy, stamped pieces of paper following him to every corner of the globe he’s traveled to. 

Some letters he’s read so much, they’re worn on the edges where he’s held the paper, smudging the pen that’s reached the sides of the pages. Others, he’s only read once. He’s not sure he could ever bring himself to read them again. But regardless of their contents, he’d made a promise to you they’d stay with him. 

“Better not get rid of those letters, Morales. Do you know how many hand cramps I’ve given myself trying to find the words to send halfway across the world to you? You better promise me you’ll keep ‘em.”  

His commitment to the folded pieces of paper ring in his ears as his fingers drag across the tops of the open envelopes. He can’t help the way his index finger and thumb pinch the paper below his grasp, carefully tugging a random letter out of its shoebox storage. 

It’s a gut wrenching gamble, the game he’s about to play, a roulette of making his heart ache from joy or pain depending on the one he chooses to pull. He’s already placed his bet as he pulls the lined piece of paper out of the envelope- He’s not getting the money he’s already placed on the table back, so he might as well pray he makes a return on his investment. 

With one more deep breath, he unfolds the tri-fold creases, ready to watch his bet play out before him. 

August 18th, 2006

Frankie, 

I hope I sent this letter to the right place! I looked on the website and it said to send mail to new recruits (that’s you, Morales), to this address, so no one better be holding my letter to you hostage. 

Anyways, how’s training so far? Did they make you shave your head yet? I hope not. I’m not sure why the Army insists on making you all look like Dr. Evil from Austin Powers. I’m sure you’ll still look cute even with short hair! I don’t think I can say the same for Santi, but you didn’t hear that from me… hehehe 

I just moved into my dorm yesterday! My roommate seems pretty nice. Her name is Jessica and she’s from Georgia. She claims that she’s neat and she better be, or I may lose my mind. I’ll send you pictures of my dorm once it’s all set up! It’s kind of a mess right now, but I made sure to put the picture of us from prom up on my desk :)

I don’t start class until next Tuesday. Hopefully I’ll meet some new people in my dorm or on the soccer team so I’m not a total loser with no friends. LOL. 

Have you met anyone new yet? I can’t wait to hear all about your new Army friends! I already started a countdown calendar until we can see each other again. Only 70 days until basic training is done and I can hear about everything in person! 

I miss you a lot. I know that’s dumb to say because it’s only been a week, but still. I wish I would have kissed you again before you got on the plane to leave. I promise I will when I see you. Nothing says perfect place to kiss like South Missouri, romance capital of the USA (haha). 

I know you’re gonna be busy, but write me back when you have time. The return address on the envelope is my dorm address, so use that, or risk Doug and Michelle reading your mail if you send it to my house!!! I can’t wait to hear from you. Miss you, weirdo. 

From, 

Kenz :) <3

His luck of the draw sends a wave of relief through him, smiling down at the curvy loops of your perfectly neat printing signed at the bottom of the page. It makes his heart skip a beat, the same kind of butterflies coming to life in his stomach as they did the first time he read it. He’s earned his money back and then some. He gets how casinos never go broke, because the high of good fortune is enough to have him reaching back into the box to put another gamble on the line. 

October 13th, 2009

Frankie, 

I always feel dumb sending multiple letters before I hear back from you, but you know me, I love to worry. I know you can’t tell me where you are right now (stupid military and their secrets for the safety of society lol) but I’ve been seeing stuff on the news and it makes me scared for you. I just hope wherever you are, you’re safe. 

My dad’s cancer is back. He’s been in the hospital for almost two weeks now. They found a new mass on his liver, but they said hopefully they can target it with radiation before it starts to spread. Cassandra at the front desk asked how you were when I was at the hospital yesterday. I said that you were good. I think she’s only asking because if you’re not there, there’s no one to keep me from burning a hole in the waiting room carpet. 

I wish you were here. I feel really lost right now. I just know if you were here, you’d find a way to make everything better. You always do. 

Sorry this letter isn’t longer. I haven’t been sleeping that great and don’t have enough brainpower to write something decent. Just wanted to let you know what’s going on.  

Counting down the days until you make good on your promise. I hope you come home soon, Frankie. 

Kenzie 

He curses himself for an unlucky draw, heart sinking at the tear stains smearing the blue ink of your trembling letters. An overwhelming wave of guilt washes over him, vivid memories of reading your notes in his bunk alone, wishing there was a way he could fly halfway around the world for a night just to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay. 

It’s the addictive itch in the back of his brain that makes him decide to pull one more letter from the box, taking one last gamble to see if he can prove the nagging pit in his stomach to quit while he’s ahead, wrong. 

February 4th, 2011

Hey, 

If you don’t want to write anymore, that’s fine. I was trying to be friendly, but clearly you don’t really care. Just let me know and I’ll stop bombarding you with mail you obviously don’t want. Or I guess you not responding is letting me know. If you want to send anything back you can send it to my parents house. I’m moving into Liam’s house and it’s only 20 minutes away so I can just drive there and pick it up. No need to send you a new address you probably aren’t going to write to, anyways. 

I guess I’ll see you when I see you. 

MacKenzie 

And that’s how Vegas will always stay in business. 

Because now Frankie is forced to walk away, all his money stolen from him at the stupid risk he’s decided to take. The one letter he’d give anything not to read again is the one he had to pull. 

Heat seethes in his chest- he can’t quite explain why. Because he lost at a rigged game he’d set up for himself? That he still hasn’t quite come to terms with the ugly truth of what he put the both of you through? That he wishes with everything in him, he could go back and change what he’s done? 

Or maybe, it’s because now might be the last chance he has to fix what he’s broken, and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to live with himself if he can’t.

He leaves the pile in the basement unfinished, shoes barely tied to his feet before he bursts out the door in a sprint.

He's not sure where he's going. He's not even sure how long he's run for. All he knows is the pounding of his feet against the pavement, trying to outrun the stupid decisions of his past.

He tells himself if he runs fast enough, he'll beat them.

If he goes far enough, they'll be forgotten.

If he outraces them, you'll be there waiting for him at the finish line.

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@kungfucapslock @vannabanana1995 @beezusvreeland

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[bluejeanstrash]

11/10

a/n: i got this idea from an nsfw prompt generator so if anyone else has already done this, that could be why ✌️

tags: fwb! seungcheol, overstimulation, semi-dacryphilia, forced orgasms

w/c: 2.3k

in hindsight, telling the most competitive guy you know that you may or may not be faking your orgasms with him was probably not the best idea.

it was just 4 hours ago when jun had suggested a game of truth or drink. and it was just 3 hours 45 minutes ago when he had asked you ‘have you ever faked an orgasm?’

‘yeah?’ you’d answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. and because whatever was in that alcohol was making you loose-lipped, you had continued.

‘in fact-’ a pause ‘-and i’m not proud of this, but i’m really good at it. the guy could never tell’

there was an immediate murmur of we can tell around the table but you interrupted.

‘trust me, you can’t. those guys still think they’ve given me the best sex of my life but they were horrible. i faked it so i could get done with it and go home’ you took a sip of your drink despite answering.

‘so, anyway, yes i’ve faked it. many times’ you had concluded, looking directly at seungcheol when you said that. you didn’t mean to look at him, he was just there in your line of sight.

he also had this funny expression on his face, somewhere between amused and offended.

were you trying to tell him something?

seungcheol and you were in a (secret) friends with benefits thing. you didn’t really call it that but that’s what it was. it had happened as a result of another game of truth or drink around 3 months ago, and thankfully, every orgasm with him in those 3 months had been very much legit.

so, when you’d seen him outside the bathroom later you’d clarified.

‘you know i wasn’t talking about you, right?’ you reassured.

‘of course you weren’t’ he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

it had annoyed you. no man should be that confident.

‘oh? confident much?’

he’d leaned in, a little too close for being in public, and said ‘i may not know a lot of things...but i know how to make a woman cum’

and as his thumb softly grazed your lips, he’d stated ‘i know how to make you cum’

‘do you?’ you retorted, moving back ‘or have i been faking it and you just think you’re doing a good job?’

you don’t know why but you kind of wanted to piss him off. i mean sure, you were sleeping with him, but seungcheol was your friend before a fuck and it was always fun messing with him. 

‘what are you trying to do?’ he’d asked, an eyebrow raised in mild annoyance.

is this a challenge?

‘i’m not trying to do anything’ big. fat. lies. ‘i’m just saying you’d never know’

sounds like a challenge to him.

(12:40 am)

‘please, no more!’ you move under his arms, writhing desperately.

‘answer the question’ he holds you in place, his grip tightening around you.

‘how many was that?’

‘f-fou-r’

‘did you fake that one?’ he asks softly.

‘no, i didn’t! i fucking swear!’ 

‘hmmn’ you feel a trail of gentle kisses travel up your neck ‘but you said i would never know, remember?’ 

seungcheol’s voice sounds sweet. so very sweet. but you know that tone—it's pure condescension masquerading as sweetness.

right now, you’re sitting on the floor, back pressed to seungcheol’s chest, locked in his heavy arms. 

after jun’s, he’d offered to drive you home, which had recently become code for ‘let’s go fuck’. and before you could even kiss him at your apartment, he’d grabbed your vibrator.

he’d made you sit in front of the floor length mirror, nestled in between his legs, with a towel laid out underneath as he played with you. were you getting pampered today? maybe.

it sure felt like it after the first orgasm, and the second. but when he’d moved on to your third before you were even done with the last, you realised what this was. a lesson. a lesson for running your mouth.

‘another one then, just to be sure’ he hums, before pressing the vibrator back against your clothed cunt.

40 minutes in and seungcheol hadn’t even bothered to take your panties off. there was something quite erotic about seeing that damp patch on your underwear spread as he made you cum over and over. proof, he called it. and by now you were soaked, the silky fabric clinging to your puffy lips.

you squirm at his words, fingers digging into his skin at the overstimulation. he doesn’t even flinch.

‘look what you’re making me do to you’ he clicks his tongue like it’s a pity. like he doesn’t fucking love it.

‘you know i want to let you go, right? but we just have to be sure so there’s no confusion about this in the future’

subtext: if you ever fucking insinuate that i can’t make you cum, i’ll make you cum until you’re begging me to stop.

you try and wriggle again, but there’s no point—you’re completely at his mercy.

‘tsk, don’t move around so much. you should rest now. you’ll need the energy’ he cooes.

you can only whine helplessly at his words as you feel your brain and body consumed by a familiar high. and so you cum again, moaning his name as you do.

‘how many?’ he asks while you’re still coming down from it.

‘f-five’ 

‘did you fake that one?’

you tell him you didn’t. you promise.

‘are you sure about that?’ 

‘i’m sure! seungcheol please’

‘hmmn’ for a second there he actually contemplates letting you go but your cocky little words ring in his ear.

‘i’m not’ sadistic fuck. and once again you feel the relentless vibration as you jerk forward, your legs clamping shut. immediately, seungcheol drags you back, his lips gathered in a pout of displeasure as he drapes one heavy leg over yours to spread you open. 

‘where are you going? hmmn?’ he presses the head against your throbbing clit, not letting up for even a second as he forces another orgasm out of you. your sixth.

drained. that’s how you feel after you cum, your body falling limp against his. ‘seungcheol, i’m done’ you whine feebly, hoping to garner a little sympathy.

‘no, no’ he shushes you ‘we’re not close to being done here. i haven’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. how can we be done?’

he leans forward, two fingers grabbing the fabric of your wet panties to pull them aside. ‘how pretty’ he smiles, gaze fixated on your slick cunt, and a split second later you hear the hum of the vibrator again. the second it touches your exposed cunt, a sharp gasp escapes your lips.

‘f-fuck’ you curse, feeling that knot in your stomach just a few minutes later.

‘coming already?’ he taunts as you end up giving him another. 

‘that makes seven’ he counts it for you like he’s helping you out. you’re not sure how far he wants to push you today, but you do know you need to make it easier for you somehow.

‘please…can’t anymore…the vibrator’ you manage to string together in between quick gasps. the intensity of it against your swollen clit is too much. you need relief—something soft, something warm, something gentle—like seungcheol’s fingers. 

after what seems like forever, the buzzing stops. ‘thank you’ you whimper and are met with a wry chuckle, his body shaking behind you.

‘you shouldn’t thank me yet’ he whispers. one of his big hands wraps around your throat giving it a light squeeze before sliding down your body to your cunt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

‘so wet for someone who’s faking it’ he mutters to himself, thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds as he scoops up your arousal, pushing it back inside you. his finger slips in so easily that he adds a second. as he fucks you, fingers moving in and out, a vulgar squelching noise fills the room.

‘so fucking wet’ the softness of his voice now layered with something heavier. you can tell feeling you with his bare hands must’ve really turned him on. or at least that’s what his hard on pressing into your back is saying.

as you watch his fingers disappear inside you and come out all slick and shiny, your body somehow starts to crave another orgasm. 

he knows it too. the way your walls begin to squeeze around him as he curls his fingers up, two stimulating your g-spot, while his thumb rubs your clit, all working up an incredibly hard orgasm. 

‘go on…let me see you cum for me’ his voice is all you needed to hear, because a second later you come, for the eight time, gushing all over his fingers. 

‘look at yourself’ he commands.

you do, looking lazily at your reflection through tired eyes.

‘look’ he grabs your face, forcing you to look.

‘what’s that dripping out of you?’

your eyes drop to the towel that has a very telling wet patch on it. getting overstimulated with the vibrator always made you a little messy but not like this; never like this.

‘answer me’

‘cum’ and so much of it. the way it’s stained the towel, the way it’s spread all over your inner thighs, and the way it’s still dripping out of you is such a pretty sight for seungcheol.

but you’re exhausted. it was so intense and there’s no way you can do it again. 

‘seungcheol…i don’t have any left in me’ he can’t help but smile at your silly little statement.

‘no?’ he plays along, pulling you closer. his one hand grabs your breast, softly caressing it, before taking your nipple in between his fingers. his other, slides down to your swollen clit to rub in slow circles. and finally, his soft lips kiss down your neck, peppering little pecks along the way before stopping at that spot that only he knows exists. and as he stimulates all three so slowly and sensually, you feel your body start to betray you. 

‘when did you turn into such a little liar, hmm?’ he asks, feeling your body start to tense up like it always did before release. he knows this feeling, he’s felt this over and over for the past three months—you can’t fool him. and as you bite back your moans, it takes over, and you cum again. number nine. seungcheol smiles to himself, and doesn’t stop.

he keeps going despite you just having given him one. it’s sore and sensitive but the way his lips have latched on to that spot on your neck it’s impossible not to surrender.

in a consistent rhythm he builds your high back up - neck. breasts. clit. you look at yourself in the reflection and god, it’s so erotic. the way he’s holding you—tight and completely under his control, his arms flexing as he masturbates you—makes you dizzy.

you want to curse and scream as you cum but you’re too overstimulated to formulate a single thought. only eager little moans spill out of your mouth.

‘go on, i know you want to’ he coaxes as you do, thrashing and tugging at the fabric of his pants.

‘i thought you had no more left in you?’ he teases as you come down from your tenth.

maybe it was a lie before but now you really don’t. isn’t 10 enough? he has to be satisfied with that. there’s a few seconds of silence when you think he might be. he lulls you into a false sense of security as your eyes fall shut, and then the sick sound of the vibrator fills the room again. no.

‘what do i need to do?’ your eyes sting with regret as you feel it touch your extremely sensitive clit.

you know what you need to do. you just don’t want to do it.

he pushes it harder, toying with you. fine.

‘i’m sorry, okay?’ a desperate apology finally spills out. 

‘i take it back! you would know if you made me cum’ you whine. he says nothing, simply increasing the intensity.

‘i’m sorry’ your voice breaks as two perfect tears roll down your cheeks. until now, seungcheol had only ever pushed you to tears from the denial of pleasure, never from too much of it. he finds it incredibly arousing.

‘you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate’ he says, looking at your pathetic reflection in the mirror. you look so pretty with those wet eyes and a dripping wet pussy that he suddenly feels forgiving.

‘cum for me again and i’ll let you go’ he kisses your neck. a wet little kiss.

‘i can’t’ you cry, tears flowing free now. ‘i can’t’ 

‘you can’ and you will for him.

‘you’re going to give me one more’ he says like you have no choice in the matter and presses the vibrator harder against you as you grab onto his arms. 

‘shhh, don’t cry. be a good girl now and cum for me again. then i’ll believe you’ he cooes.

‘show me…show me how you can’t fake it with me’

as your start to spasm, your body shaking under him, you let out a moan, half of pleasure, half of exhaustion. you grip him harder, nails leaving red scratches all over his pale skin as the orgasm takes over.

he watches, fascinated at how you’re still giving him body shaking, toe curling orgasms after this many; at how your body moves at his command. he’s satisfied.

finally, you hear the buzzing stop as he puts the vibrator away. he wraps both arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear.

‘how many was that?’

‘eleven’ you admit, not believing the number coming out of your mouth.

he smiles. god, it feels really fucking good to have been proved right 11 times. his eyes drop to the mess you’ve made—on the towel, on his hands, between your own legs and he feels extremely smug.

‘so, did you learn your lesson?’ he asks sweetly, placing a single kiss on your shoulder.

‘yes! i did. i promise!’ 

did you? well, if this is your punishment you may just have to piss him off again.

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 1)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Since your youth, the relationship between Melissa and you has been complicated. In all of your years knowing her, she just can't admit that she isn't as straight as she thinks.

Warnings: Toxic Melissa, smut, and very veiled internalized homophobia

Authors Note: If ya like it, let me know and I'll write more.

On and off.

That’s how you would describe your relationship with Melissa to your closest friends. They would inevitably roll their eyes and make a face, annoyed with how Melissa had you wrapped around her finger.

It started in high school. She would start dating a new guy, he would leave her unsatisfied in more ways than one, and then she would find those missing pieces of her relationship in you. 

You were best friends after all…. and best friends would do anything for each other, right? 

The first night you spent together was always vivid in your memories. Her green eyes flashing with mischief before she took your hand and pulled it to her thigh. Mel told you how badly she was aching, how it was almost painful. That she needed her best friend to help resolve what her boyfriend couldn’t. 

She knew about your sexual orientation. She knew how hard it was for you to date. When you hesitated, Mel said it was like practicing for when you had a girlfriend. Only if she knew how beautiful you found her to be… that she was only making things harder for you. 

Young and naive, you gladly accepted her offer - desire flooding your senses as soon as she drew your hands to her body. She guided you through every motion and step, telling you exactly what she liked. Like a sponge, you soaked up every word and memorized every fraction of her body. Never wanting to forget a thing. 

Little did you know the knowledge would come in handy again… and again… and again.

—

“I should probably get going.” Mel breathed as she pushed herself into an upright position. You had been bathing in the afterglow of your sexual dalliance when you must have looked at her too yearningly. She didn’t want you getting too attached.

“I wouldn’t mind if you stayed. It’s no big deal.” You tried to shrug off her wanting to leave so soon. It was best if you played it cool rather than let her know how much you really wanted her after all these years. 

It was clear she didn’t give much thought to your statement. Slipping out from under your sheets, Melissa snatched up her underwear and bra from the floor. She was always in such a rush after you were finished, “I don’t want the neighbors gettin’ the wrong idea.”

That's what she had always told you - ‘I’m not gay.’ 

For years, you always had a biting remark in return. 

‘Yeah. It’s not like you just spent a half hour between my legs or anything.’

“What? Worried they might think you’re gay?” Your words were twinged with venom. Now, rather than wait for her to make the excuse, you threw it back in her face. It always irked you that she could say such a thing to you given all you had experienced with one another. 

“A woman can enjoy the company of women and not be gay.”

You scoffed, unable to contain yourself, “You’re delusional.”

Melissa’s lip curled and her brow furrowed. She always hated when you would get pissy with her, so she decided to snap back at you as she clipped her bra in the back, “I don’t need your shit, okay? I came here for a good time after my shitty date.”

You faked a smile and let the sarcasm drip from your tongue. “Glad to help.”

—

You knew the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this is how it always went. 

She would call. She would come over. You would fuck. She would want to leave right after. You would get pissed. Then you wouldn’t speak until she wanted back in your bed.

—

You gathered saliva in your mouth and then pushed your tongue between her folds, drenching Melissa’s sweet cunt in your spit. 

After the last sexual dalliance, you told yourself you wouldn’t end up on your knees for her again. But 45 minutes ago you received a partial nude from the redhead, and she had you reeled back in once more. It was a scandalous picture of her standing in front of her bedroom mirror with her hand between her legs. The caption she sent with the photo was ‘Missing you.’

While it was infuriating she could send a picture at random like that, you were in your car minutes later ready to drive over to her house. 

Your hands gripped behind her knees, keeping a gentle pressure to make sure she was spread wide for you. Her hands were buried in your hair to prevent you from lifting your face away from her swollen heat. But in all honesty, you weren’t planning on going anywhere until she came all over your tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” Mel whined, pushing her hips up to grind against your face. Her enjoyment made you smile, and sadly, a small ounce of hope lingered in the back of your mind that maybe you could fuck her good enough that she would want to be with you.

“Yesyesyesyes… God, you are incredible.” Melissa hissed out, chasing her orgasm through rough bucks of her hips.

You pulled back, fighting against the grip for her hands. You provided her with a singular lick to her cunt and then paused, teasing her, “You want to come?”

“Yes~”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

“Good girl…” You hummed, pulling away entirely to retrieve the strap. 

—

She had barely recovered from taking a pseudo-rage filled fucking when she crawled from bed. Her legs wobbled underneath herself as she wrapped herself in a robe, trying to make it clear a third round wouldn’t be an option. “I guess you better be goin’.”

“Sounds good.” You took the hint with grace, choosing to let her statement roll off your back rather than stewing on it. You slipped from the bed, unclasped Melissa’s strap (that she kept around just for you), and tossed the sex toy on the bed. You then proceeded to get ready in silence, not offering anything to Melissa that might display your displeasure. 

The redhead was slowly unnerved by your silence as you zipped up your trousers and pulled your shirt over your head. She stared at her nail beds, trying to start casual conversation, “Gary proposed.” 

You glanced up at her quickly, brow furrowed in angry questioning. While you were not proud of how easily Mel could reel you in, you wouldn’t have come if she was still in a relationship let alone engaged. 

Melissa noticed your incredulous look and finished explaining, “I said no.”

You breathed out a scoff as you tucked your phone in your back pocket and scooped up your sweater off the floor. “That sounds about right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Melissa was clearly unhappy with your tone, but you refused to glance her way - slightly enraging her further. 

Swiping your wallet and car keys from the bedside table you finally glanced over to where Mel sat on the edge of the bed. It was difficult to tell if she was more angry or embarrassed by your criticism, “I’ve learned the hard way, Mel. You’re hardly one to be tied down by something as trivial as love.”

Melissa was left speechless by your blatant honesty, and she could only stare as you gave her a curt nod, “I’ll see you around.”

—

She wasn’t gone for a half hour when you received a text from her - ‘Again tomorrow night? ;)’

It immediately forced you to roll your eyes. How you loved and hated that she was like this. One moment she would be so oppositional to any form of attachment, and then the moment someone ‘played hard to get’ with her, she would be fiending for their attention. 

What was worse is that you were no better than her. You replied almost automatically - ‘I am off at 4. Come over whenever.’

Link to Chapter 2

[mbsneur]

My Love

Aitana Bonmati x Reader

Summary: your Aitanas girlfriend

Warnings: Pure Fluff, maybe bad ending

My Masterlist

please read this text before going to the story

please don't be so strict with me but rather write to me what I can do better or what you wished were different. also tell me if you find the story too long or too short.. Also write to me if you liked it. My requests are always open (and English is not my first language so don't be mad at me) and if you have any ideas for the future about who I should write please tell me… the topics I will choose by myself unless you have a request for one or two people I will Read everything.. in the next survey I will take a few ideas from the old survey and new ones…. now read and I hope you like it <33

(its a very short one)

aitana is your girlfriend, she is the most tender and sweetest person you have ever met

You know that she would drop everything if you called her and said you weren't feeling well

It was match day. You've been playing for Betis Sevilla since your childhood. It was the game against FC Barcelona. You already knew that you wouldn't have a chance

You're going to play against your girlfriend. You kept your relationship secret long enough until you went on vacation together during the summer break and decided to post a picture together so that everyone knew you were together. Since then, your team has been annoying you and keeps telling you that you are togheter with the best player

Also today they teased you about playing against Aitana, you haven't seen her in a long time, it was already overdue. You both have been very busy lately and have neglected your relationship a little, so you didn't really like the jokes your teammates made

“Can you please stop” you said slightly annoyed and pulled your jersey over your head The jokes will probably never stop

"Aww we're a little baby again today" Paula joked and pinched your cheek lightly. You clicked in annoyance and let Noelia braid your hair. It's a little ritual between you to braid each other's hair

You were all excited to play against Barça again. You finished lacing up your shoes and went into the tunnel. You acted as captains and stood right next to Alexia, the captain of Barça. You cracked your neck one last time before the referee announced it was time to line up

You stood there, gave a little applause and shook hands with your opponents. Aitana took your hand firmly in hers and gave you a little wink, which you accepted with a smile

it was kick-off. The game went well, even though you lost 5-1, you were still proud to be part of this team

//

1-0 Barcelona: Claudia Pina 26‘

2-0 Barcelona: Mariona Caldentey 44‘

2-1 Betis Sevilla: y/n 45‘

3-1 Barcelona: Caroline Graham-hansen 75‘

4-1 Barcelona: Salma Paralluelo 88‘

5-1 Barcelona: Salma Paralluelo 90+1‘

//

Even though you lost so much, you were still proud that the times were so far apart

After the game you all gave each other a handshake

Aitana ran up to you and hugged you tightly. "Hey you were great" she beamed at you with a huge smile

“Thank you aita you were pretty good too” you joked, smelling the sweet smell of her hair once again

"Would you like to come with me? I mean you're in Barcelona and I think your team will be able to do without you for the night or not?" she told you and put her arm around your shoulders to start the way to the cabins

you took a deep breath "okay but only if you cook for me" you raised your hand aitana laughed "sí I'll cook whatever you want" she said laughing and let go of you "well I'll wait for you outside my car" She said as she walked past and you nodded at her

You took a shower and told the coaching team that you would stay with Aitana and fly back alone tomorrow

//

About an hour later you were finished. You said goodbye to your team and headed towards the exit. The evening warmth of Barcelona hit your face. You looked for Aitana's car until she drove close to you

"Hola chica necesitas un conductor?"

She asks laughing and you ironically bump into her car. You walked in. It's been a long time since you looked in her car. After a moment she immediately pounced on you and bit lightly into your neck and cheek. You squealed and tried pushing her away laughing "aita aita stop" you say breathless with laughter

"I missed you so much" she tells you and places kisses on your cheek. You took her hands in yours and gave her a long kiss on the mouth

When you let go she looks at you with her sweet gaze. She licks her lips and blushes with embarrassment. You have kissed so many times but after such a long time it is always unique to kiss her again

"I missed you too" you say and smile slightly, everything is the same as before, her light ponytail, the smell of peppermint toothpaste when you kiss her and the gentle rose scent of her shower gel that is distributed in the air

"Do you want to go I'm pretty hungry" she said and rubbed her stomach lightly. She sometimes behaved like a little baby but that's what you loved about her, her funny faces that she sometimes gave you or she tickled you awake in the morning or crawled under your shirt you loved everything about her

"Yes we can go" you say, laughing slightly and giving her one last little kiss. She drove through the gate. On the car ride, you sang your favorite songs. Her hand didn't leave yours for a second

When you arrived at Aitana's house she opened your door and took your hand to escort you out. She carried your suitcase and looked for her key to the door

“You can take something from me to wear you know where everything is” she says and gave you a kiss before disappearing into the kitchen

You went into her bedroom and the smell of freshly washed laundry from her laundry basket immediately hit your nose. You did a little tidying up and taught the basket and carefully placed everything in your closet and looked for something to wear yourself You decided on a loose shirt and shorts. You changed your clothes and saw your selfie together in a frame on her dessert. A smile immediately came to your face you loved this woman.

You went into the kitchen and the smell of fresh ham hit your nose. You watched Aitana for a moment until you walked up to her and hugged her tenderly from behind. "Ay baby you're wearing my favorite shirt" she said, laughing slightly and frying a few tortillas in the pan you place your head on her shoulder and place small kisses on her neck

"can you promise me no matter how long we don't see each other or neglect each other that you'll never leave me" You say lovingly and notice how Aitana's stomach falls and rises

"I'll stay with you until you can't stand me anymore and even then I won't let you go you won't get rid of me that easily" she says with a slight smile

you beam across both cheeks "I love you Aita" you whisper in her ear

"I love you too cariño"

[sunflowersteves]

hey love!! if you're still taking miggy requests, can I request Miguel and short reader? (like 5ft)

He's being his usual grumpy self, but every time he sees them clambering on the counter to reach something high up or grabbing a chair to reach a high place, his stern expression just breaks and he usually covers his face to hide his amusement.

He also teases them for being short and if their romantically involved he definitely uses his height to his advantage to make them weak in the knees /.\

Or whatever you come up with it! 💕

Thank you!

tarren my love, i squealed when i saw u requested something of miguel. as a five foot zero inches girly pop, i was MADE to make this fic

warnings || reader is short, height differences, fluff, making out

masterlist

Miguel let out a long sigh as he closed the door to your shared apartment. It was well into the evening—11:45 pm, as it read on the clock, to be exact.

He could feel the rage and anger that still sizzled through his veins. Today was hard. Today was a shit-tastic day and was full of fuck ups upon fuck ups.

So, he probably slammed the door much louder than he anticipated. The sound made you jump in the kitchen, startled by the booming sound.

You were so engrossed with checking the oven that you hadn’t even looked up at the clock in over an hour. A smile slowly crept up onto your cheeks, though. You knew that particular sound.

“In here, baby.” You called. Your voice echoed across the apartment, and it seemed to put him into a trance.

He slowly sauntered into the spacious kitchen. He could almost feel how all of his ire had prodded its way through every single step he was taking.

It felt heavy. All of it felt so heavy.

He walked through the doorframe, huffing out a breath, and then immediately stopped in his tracks at the sight his eyes took in.

You had been baking a batch of chocolate chip cookies before he got home. It was supposed to be a surprise—and supposed to be done—but you had forgotten one ingredient.

Salt. You always put extra flakey sea salt on top of the gooey chocolate cookies. Then, to your dismay, the salt that you had needed was unfortunately on the very tippy top of the biggest cabinet in the kitchen. You were on the highest part of your tippy toes, and an arm stretched out as far as it could reach.

Miguel’s entire anger dissolved at that very second. You gave out a quick huff before stretching out your fingers just a little bit more.

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t grow any inches.

Miguel smiled. He turned his head, and he smiled. His lips curled at your continuous attempts to reach the salt.

It was so fucking cute. He swore his heart could burst. Little did you know that you were the only one that could truly do this to him. He had to turn his head to look away from you before he burst out laughing.

“Let me get that.”

You could feel him hover behind you. His tall stature sent shivers down your spine. Your head didn’t even reach the middle of his pecks, and god, did he relish this.

He loved the way your body curled up against his—so small and so perfect. He loved the way your hand just about fit his palm (he might have been a bit dramatic, here, but still).

He pressed his chest up against your body. You gasped at the full pressure of his chest and hardened stomach up against your back. His arm followed your own, and his hand brushed up against your fingers. Your whole body felt like it was going to catch on fire. You were so sure.

“I’ve always got you, sweet thing.” He says before swiftly taking the salt down.

“Thank you, baby.” You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You were too dazed to do anything for just a moment. As if knowing that, he smirked.

“Next time, I’ll just get the stool.” You say more to yourself. God, he was so distracting. It was insane.

He scoffed. He was not going to tell you that he had gotten rid of all of the stools and ladders in the apartment. “Why need a stool when you have me?”

~

“Should we go to bed, baby?” You ask after finishing the last cookie you had set aside. Miguel’s favorite was always right after they came out of the oven. He liked them hot and gooey.

His eyes locked with yours. “I don’t know, sweet thing. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the thought. “What do you mean?”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Miguel is standing up. With habit, you’re standing upright with him.

He just smirks. He knew you’d follow him.

He immediately towers over you—dominating—and staring intensely into your eyes. “You missed something when I got home.”

You blinked. You blinked again. Your mind was blank.

You open your mouth to respond, but he’s quickly crowding your space. Your mouth quickly snapped closed, and your breath shallowed at how large he is.

Now, he’s pushing you, ever so slowly, to the nearest wall. “You forgot to greet me with a kiss, hmm?” He chuckled darkly into your ear. “How could you forget?”

He takes your wrists and traps them against his large hands, and places them above your head. He pressed hot, wet kisses on your jaw and they start to lean down to your neck.

“Look at you. I haven’t even said anything, and you’re already a puddle.” You open your mouth again, but nothing can come out.

Your mind is blank, and all thoughts and feelings are rushing about the man in front of you. He was just so tall.

His lips crashed against your own and it took all of the breath out of your lungs. His tongue swirled against your own, and his hand squeezed the base of your wrist.

Your lips molded against one another as he nipped and sucked. It was heavenly. He was heavenly as his body seemed to press further into you and the wall.

He bit against your lip and pulled back, but before you could even react with a small moan, his lips are back onto yours in full force. His smooth lips caressing each and every part of you.

Suddenly, his lips disconnect from yours. He takes a good look at you and smiled. You were entirely kiss-drunk on him. Your lips were swollen. Your chest was heaving up and down. Your eyes were completely hazy.

It was a sight to see.

“Let’s get ready for bed, querida, yeah?” Your body was screaming at you for letting his arms detangle from your body.

His whole form sauntered off, and you were left there by yourself, flushed up against the wall. Your chest heaved up and down—reeling in the feeling of his body pressed up against yours.

You never wanted that feeling to go away.

“Yeah. Bed.” You whispered—the biggest smile spreading across your cheeks. Every night, his large arms wrapped around your shoulders and stomach. You would sleep like that all night.

“Bed sounds good.”

[bunnisari]

can you write plug!connie but he yo baby daddy, love your work btw <3

WARNINGS ✩ — mom!reader(i got insane baby fever n i wanna be a stay at home mom so bad 😔), fluff, nothing honestlyyy

YOU woke up to the blaring sun in your face, causing you to scrunch your eyes up. It was 8:45 am. The usual time you wake up on the weekends. Yes the weekends. Being a stay at home mom, you were always up on your feet. Taking care of things at home while Connie took care of everything else.

Your body was locked in place from moving. Your daughter, Celeste, was wrapped around you from the back, squished between Connie who was facing you, his long arm wrapped around you both. You shook your head, assuming Celeste climbed in the bed in the middle of the night like she always does.

You slowly pried their arms off of you, leaving them quietly sleeping in bed. You headed to the bathroom, getting yourself ready for the day.

After a steamy shower and you’re 5-step skincare routine, you went to go make breakfast, deciding to make a standard breakfast.

Meanwhile, an hour and a half later, Celeste walked down the stairs, her teddy bear locked in her arms. The sound of Destiny’s Child filled her ears as she approached the kitchen island, struggling to lift her five year old body onto the chair.

“Morning mama, want some fruit?” Your daughter immediately smiled at the kiss pressed onto her forehead.

Celeste loves both of her parents, of course. Even as a five year old she knows all the stress you endure. But she’s never seen you cry, well she’s seen you cry over heels but that’s besides the point. She’s never seen either of her parents give up or argue. Even if she saw you upset at her dad, you always resolved the issue.You and Connie set your daughters standards very high.

“Yes pleaseee” She flashes a smile, very similar to Connie’s.

After preparing breakfast, you finally prepared the plates. “Mommy can I give daddy breakfast” Celeste speaks from across the island, now standing. But you can only see her puff of hair as it shows over the island.

You nod, grabbing a tray from the pantry and putting Connie’s plate on it. “Be careful” You warned, handing her the tray.

“Of courseeee” She dragged out. Man was she obsessed with that word.

Celeste carefully walked up the stairs, walking very slowly and steadily. She made sure his fruit wasn’t touching his bacon and his bacon didn’t touch the whipped cream on his waffles, just how he likes it.

“Daddyyy it’s morning time” She sung out as she stood next to the bed. Connie stirred in the bed, feeling it empty.

He looked over to his daughter, seeing her hold a tray with food and a huge smile on her face. Always smiling.. “Thank you babygirl” He grabbed the tray from her, immediately digging in. “Where’s your mom?” Connie asked Celeste as she climbed into bed beside him, stealing a piece of bacon from Connie’s plate , earning a side eye.

“She’s probably in the garden now but like um..um..are we still going to the mall today?” She took her time, smacking her teeth multiple times.

Connie shook his head at the little girl, “You are just like your mom mhm”

“DONT step on my shoes. My dad bought them and they’re custom made.” Celeste sassily crossed her arms over her chest, yelling at her distant “cousins”.

You and Connie decided to stop by the cookout Ony was throwing, Connie doing a couple of drops as well. There were kids there so nothing crazy would happen, Connie trusted his best guys with his two favorite girls so he felt okay with leaving.

“Oh yeah? My dad is like the biggest strongiest coolest ever!” One of the kids of a family friend argued. “Strongiest isn’t even a word” Celeste rolled her eyes. “That’s why my dad gave me this!” Celeste pulled out an one hundred dollar bill out of her pocket, causing the kids the gasp.

“Woah she’s like rich” One boy said from his spot on the floor. Celeste smiled, stuffing it back into her pocket. “Yeah so don’t act like I don’t have motion!” Celeste copied the word that she always heard her dad say around her.

Truth be told, Celeste was a bit….egotistical. I mean come on Connie Springer is her father. To her parents she’s an angel but once she’s around kids her age, she’s talking about how big the Eiffel tower really is and how clear the water is in Fiji.

She’s a spoiled brat, just like you, in every single way.

After playing for hours, Celeste dramatically laid across your lap. “When is dad coming back” Just then she jumped up, seeing the sight of her father.

“Hi daddy!” He lifted her up into the air before just holding her on the side of his waist. “Hey princess, you have fun?” She hummed, nodding her head before he placed her down.

“Hi A-armin” Celeste waved while looking up, her face growing hot. Armin was Celeste’s first crush. “Hey little one” Armin smiled down at the child, patting her head before handing her a $5 bill. “I hear the ice cream truck, why don’t you get yourself something”

Celeste couldn’t stop her smile, her kiddy crush feeling much more like true love. She ignored her fathers scowl and hugged the blonde’s legs before running off to the front yard with Onyankopon and a group of kids.

“Calm down boy, it’s just a silly little crush” You walked over to Connie, handing him your cup to sip out of. Your hand went around his waist, pulling him into a side hug.

“She’s only five. She doesn’t need any crushes, especially on Armin” Armin jerks his head back at the emphasis on his name.

“Acting like i’m ugly or something” He shook his head before greeting some other people. “Y’know she thinks he looks like a disney prince or something. Anyways how was your run?” You walk infront of Connie, grabbing his hand. He trailed behind you with the cup still in his hand. His eyes were glued to your butt in the skin tight sundress. “Hm baby?” You ask completely unaware. The weather was breezy and dawn had settled in, painting the sky purple and blue.

“Y’know I still want a son as well?” Connie completely ignored your question, his front pressing up against your back as his hand trailed down to your butt, lightly squeezing.

You jumped, gasping out “Connie there are innocent children here!”

[dotster001]

Daddy End

Previous Chapters: One Two Three Choose Another Ending

Please see me after class

That's what was scrawled on the top of your paper.

"What did you do?" You hissed at your kitty companion, who was usually the reason you had to stay after class. If you could go back in time, you would tell yourself not to accept "beast tamer" as a title.

"Nothin'" he hissed back. "Maybe you're the one who messed up this time."

"Not likely," you hissed back, before seeing Crewel giving you a disapproving stare. You turned back to your cauldron, deciding to grill your roommate later.

"Everything okay?" Alano, your lab partner from Octavinelle, asked.

"Yeah, Crewel just wants me to talk to him after class."

"Do you want me to wait for you?"

"No, but I appreciate the offer. It means a lot."

You gave him a reassuring smile, and he nodded skeptically, before adding another item to the cauldron.

After a tense 45 minutes, the class cleared out, and you stood before Crewel's desk. He sat back in his chair for a moment, and sighed.

"As I understand it, I haven't been chosen to be your husband, by your cat."

"Wha-" you started, but he cut you off by pressing a red gloved finger to your lips.

"No, no, it's alright, pup. If I am truly not worthy, then I shall have to accept that."

His finger to your lips turned into a gentle caress, ending with his hand resting on the side of your neck. Your head was spinning, as his cologne clouded your senses. After a pause, he gave another heavy sigh, before saying in a low voice,

"But if you ever change your mind, and want to give me a second chance," he gently squeezed your neck, not enough to hurt you, just enough to send a shiver up your spine, before slowly pulling his hand away, "Even just for one evening, where I can feed you the finest of delicacies and dress you in the finest of clothes, and simply bask in your presence, you know where to find me."

He sat down, and began working on papers, as though he hadn't just told you that your kitty roommate had ignored your orders not to sell you off, while simultaneously making you wish he'd sold you off, specifically to him.

"Um, professor?" Your tongue was lead in your mouth, and you felt like you'd need to drink a lot of water with how dry your mouth felt.

"Divus, my pet."

He wasn't even looking up at you. You made an attempt to clear your throat.

"D-Divus, I don't know anything about what you're talking about…"

He gave an unenthusiastic hum.

"But I wouldn't be opposed…"

Another hum.

"That is, if you wanted to…"

He looked up at you, face blank. Your cheeks started to burn, and you prayed to whatever was out there that he didn't know how flustered he had made you. You weren't that lucky, though. You were pretty sure he knew.

"You know…" you finished, pretty much below a whisper.

He stared at you for a moment, before gasping.

"Could it be, my favorite pet feels the same as I do?" He stood, his eyes widening. "Could it be, I still have a chance with you?"

He reached out his hand to cup your cheek, before faltering, and holding it in place. You gently took his outstretched hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze.

He smiled a gentle, relieved smile, and it struck you how he wasn't that much older than you really. He still was just a lovestruck school boy, who'd happened to be smart enough to graduate earlier than some, and rose through the ranks quickly, probably due to some money saving scheme of Crowley's. He seemed just as nervous about asking you out as you were about him.

"I know this classy little pasta restaurant. It's not overly luxurious, but still fancy. Would you meet me back here in an hour, so we could go together?"

There was that schoolboy light in his eyes again.

You nodded, and he kissed the back of your hand, before gently shooing you out.

You were far too flustered to notice Grim and Crowley standing in the doorway and glaring at Crewel.

"And that's how it's done, gentlemen," Divus said with a smirk, once you were out of earshot. He grinned at Grim.

"Don't worry too much about it, kitty, you'll have plenty of riches and deluxe tuna from me, even though it hurt dreadfully to know you didn't pick me."

Crowley pouted even deeper.

"You're lucky I'm so generous, or…"

"Or what? Face it, Dire, we both know who the better sugar daddy is here."

And with that he brushed past both of them, humming a happy little tune to himself as he prepared for his date.

The End

[writting-stuff-sometimes]

We should be best friends too Lando X Fem reader

Summary: Y/n is Pietra's best friend, she considers Max to be a nice guy, but who she really can't stand is Max's best friend, Lando. At Max's birthday party, Pietra asks just one thing, an easy, fun night, but with Y/N and Lando in the same room, this is almost impossible.

Warnings: Bad words and alcohol.

Word Count: 15K Notes: I suck at second parts, so I'm taking my time with the pt2 of "Playing with fire". In the meantime, here's something new. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks for all your comments,

__________________________

"He's coming, isn't he?"

"Y/n, it's Max's best friend, please, please, please, no fights tonight"

"He's the one that always started them!"

"And you were amazing at going along instead of being the grownup and letting it go"

"Excuse me, who's your best friend?!"

"You, but please, just tonight, can you be extra patient with Lando?"

"I'll try"

Pietra had been dating Max for a year now, and it took four months for you to hate Lando. Almost every night you were together ended with a fight between you two. _____________________________

"Hey Mate, happy birthday!" You didn't need to turn to look at the door to recognize the voice owner. You sighed in annoyance.

"Friend of yours, I assume?" the guy standing in front of you, and whom you had been flirting with for the last hour, said with a sarcastic smile.

"Best friend" you rolled your eyes.

To keep your promise to Pietra you tried to stay away from Lando as much as possible and focus on the cute guy in front of you.

____________________________

"Let me get you a refill" Your date took the glass from your hand.

"Thanks"

"My pleasure" he winked at you and then leaned in to place a soft, quick peck on your lips. So far, the night seemed to be going better than expected, no interactions with Lando, and sex with a cute guy was coming your way.

"Isn't he a gentleman?!" His mocking voice was even more annoying.

You took a deep breath before turning around to face Lando.

"Fuck you"

"What's with the cursing? I was just making a statement, you seem to have great taste in men"

"Wish I could say the same about your date" You threw a quick glance toward the blond girl who had been all over Lando for the last 45 minutes, she had done nothing to you but you already disliked her and the childlike way she was giggling with her friends, probably talking about him.

"Ouch"

"Just move and stay away from..." you tried to walk past him but your stupid heel got caught on the carpet. Everything happened so fast. The Brit caught you mid-air, his arms around your waist as your hands fell on his torso, his black shirt was unbuttoned at the top, so your hand was against his skin.

"You ok?" You could have sworn you heard concern in his voice.

The tight grip on your waist and the feeling of his warm skin under your hand seemed to be a little too much for your alcohol-intoxicated brain to voice out a response, so you just nodded.

"If you wanted to cup a feel you could've just asked, you know you have a free pass"

And there he was again, the annoying self-centered prick.

"Please, don't flatter yourself, I would choose planking face first on the floor over this, any day." You pushed him hard, trying to shake away the feeling of his touch.

“And hurt that gorgeous face of yours?” His finger softly traced your cheek, down to your chin, but you pulled away “I would never let that happen. Also, I’ve been told my arms are nice and cozy.” He crossed his arms over his chest, making them seem even bigger.

“Too bad they are attached to a huge self-centered piece of shit like you!”

"Wow" Max's voice startled you. You had said that last phrase as the music changed from one song to another, so every person in the room had heard you, including the cute guy, who was now standing a couple steps away, staring at you.

"Y/n" the disappointed look on your best friend's face broke your heart a little.

"I'm sorry, P." You walked past Lando, took your bag, and left the flat.

A couple tears streamed down your face, falling on your cell screen as you searched for an Uber to take you home.

"Fuck!" you mouthed when the No cars Available text appeared on your screen. You closed the app and opened it again, wishing for a miracle. It was almost 2 am on a Tuesday, and getting an Uber in the middle of the suburbs was a nightmare, you walked to the end of the street, praying that from there, it would be easier to get a car, but again, nothing.

You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, trying to ease the tears, but the frustration and embarrassment were too strong.

A couple minutes later a car stopped right in front of you, from the engine sound it was a sports car, and you knew exactly who it belonged to. The driver's door opened, and you heard him walk towards you.

"Y/n" his voice was low.

"Go away" You didn't turn to look at him, your eyes were probably bloodshot from the tears, and you've had enough humiliation for one night. You opened the Uber app again to keep your sight down.

"Y/n, I'll take you home, come on" He walked to the passenger door and opened it.

"I'd rather crawl there" You answered bluntly.

Like a cruel joke, a sudden gust of wind blew against your body, and goosebumps covered your skin, it was unusually cold for July. As you walked to the threshold of the building, searching for some shelter, the bottoms of your feet reminded you of the heels you were wearing, if you dared to walk back home you might have to do it barefoot.

"Unless you're planning on going back inside, or a car has magically appear on the app..."

"How could I walk back inside there?" You cut him off "I just made a complete fool of myself because of you!" You finally turned to see him as a couple of tears threatened to fall from your eyes again. He looked down at the floor, he seemed embarrassed.

"Then please get in the car, I'll take you home...you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to" He offered you his hand.

You stared at him, he seemed honest and embarrassed. You hated yourself, the puppy eyes were actually working?

"Please, P and Max would kill me if I let you go home alone."

You sighed loudly and walked towards the car. You ignored his stretched-out hand, trying to make a statement, that you were doing it against your will.

As you got inside the car his scent hit you hard, you always claimed he used way too much cologne, but now it seemed nice, warm, almost pleasant, maybe finally being out of the cold was playing tricks on your mind.

The sound of his door shutting pulled you back from your thoughts.

When the car didn't move, you turned to look at him to find him staring back at you.

"What?" you asked in a low voice.

"The seatbelt" he answered as if it was obvious.

"Oh" you turned to pull on it as he started the car and drove away.

It was a quiet drive. From time to time, you discretely turned to look at Lando, whom you always thought was one of those annoying guys with sports cars that would find every little chance to show off, but he seemed to be a decent driver.

Your phone vibrated in your bag.

Pietra💗: Are you ok?

Y/n: Yes, I'm on my way home, I'm so sorry P 😔

Pietra 💗: Don't worry about it, Lando picked you up? He said he was going out to look for you.

Y/n: Yes 😒

Pietra 💗: Good, let me know when you get home, please don't kill him, he's truly embarrassed about how he behaved.

Y/n: Can't promise anything

"Pietra?"

"Yes" You answered without taking your eyes off the phone screen.

"Good to know I have witnesses in case I go missing" He looked at you with a mischievous grin as if you were great friends and this was an inside joke.

You turned to look at him, your face anything but friendly. Why was he acting like you were there because you were friends and not because he had been an asshole?

"Oook" He said in a low whisper and kept his attention on the road.

A few minutes later you heard a breathy laugh from the driver.

"What now?" You asked, breaking the silence.

"You look like a chihuahua"

"Excuse me?"

"You're trembling so much. Maybe you should have worn something more clothy" He stared down at your outfit, black shorts, a lacey bralette, and a matching black blazer.

"I was supposed to spend the night inside a flat"

"But you decided to throw a tantrum like a five-year-old and run out"

"It was all your fault! If you had stayed away from me, right now I would've been with..." You cut yourself off.

"With Mr. Charming?" He turned to look at you. "You just met him tonight." His tone was filled with judgment.

"Why do you care?" You turned to look at him with a raised brow. For some reason, the question threw him off balance, it was nice to be on the other end of the jokes and the messing around.

"Do you want me to care?" He turned to look at you when he stopped at a red light, your winning punch was short-lived.

"Pff, please." You were about to turn away when a sudden movement caught your attention. He turned his body towards you and his hand went behind your headrest. He stared at you deeply, and you stared back. What was he doing? He slowly moved towards you, and your breath quickened as you felt your body get warmer, why was he getting closer? Your mind screamed to move away, but your body didn't move an inch.

Your breath got caught in your throat when he was just inches away from your face.

"Here, put this on before you freeze" he whispered lowly, pulling a hoodie from behind your seat, his breath warmly caressing your blushing face. You stared at him confused.

"What?" He asked, a cocky grin on his face.

"Fuck you"

"If only I had a swear jar." He placed the hoodie on your lap and put the car in movement when the light changed to green.

You contemplated throwing the hoodie back to him, but the cold was teeth chattering, so you got it on. The smell of his cologne intensified, and it felt... it felt nice. You hated how much you seemed to like it. Maybe he had changed colognes, usually, you would find it repulsive.

He turned on the radio, that stupid grin still on his face.

You were getting close to your house, a weird feeling in your chest. Was it sadness? Why would you feel sad about getting home?

Suddenly, the car turned towards a Starbucks drive-thru.

"What are you doing?"

"You're still trembling and I'm out of hoodies, maybe coffee will help you get warm"

He got to the speaker and ordered your favorite drink and a hot chocolate for him.

“How did you know?”

“That coffee gets you warm? It’s basic knowledge, I know you think I’m stupid, but I know things, you know?”

“How do you know my coffee order?”

“Oh, umm the weekend you and Pietra stayed at my house in Mónaco I ordered coffee and P told me what you liked”

“It’s been ages since that happened"

“Yeah..." A weird look on his face, as if he had been caught red-handed. He turned to look away as he approached the window to receive the order.

"Here"

You took the warm cup off his hand. Who was this person?

You held the cup close to your body, giving in to the heat.

"Thanks" You smiled back at him.

"No problem" He drove off as you took a sip from the warm, delicious liquid.

"Is it working?"

"It is, it's nice... why are you doing this?"

"I don't want you to get sick"

"Why?"

"Because being sick sucks?"

"Why are you being nice?" You insisted

"I don't get the question"

"You've never been this nice to me. You're usually picking on me and... being annoying"

"I'm not"

"Yes, you are. You're always calling me names, saying I'm spoiled, uptight, a control freak, you also mock the guys I go out with, the music I listen to, the movies I like..."

"Weeeellll, you started with the name calling"

"Me?!"

"Uuh, yes"

“When?!”

“P’s birthday party last year”

“We had only known each other for like a month back then. What could I've done to you? I didn’t even talk to you that day."

“Well, it wasn’t TO me, but it was about me.”

You stared at him confused, and he continued.

“A friend of yours asked if you liked F1 and you said hell naw, they’re just a bunch of nepo babies that only know how to spin a wheel” He tried to mimic your voice. You were about to protest but he was right.

“In my defense, that was a private conversation... and the world does not revolve around you, I wasn't talking about you, I was talking about all the drivers"

“We’ll you were at a public party, and that statement doesn't really help your case"

You stared down at the coffee cup between your hands. This was embarrassing. Was all this feud with him your fault? You could have sworn he had started it, damn! You were a hundred percent sure it was his fault.

“Why do you hate us drivers so much?”

“It’s not you, it’s the sport… my ex was a big fan, and it ended up bad with him so..."

"...the breakup wasn't my fault" you quickly added.

"I didn't think it was" He tried to cover a mocking smile with his chocolate cup.

"Yeah, right" You rolled your eyes as a faint smile sneaked from your lips.

"Well, too bad an idiot made you hate us all"

It was seriously embarrassing, you could've sworn you were over the stupid breakup with Evan, but he seemed to still find ways to ruin your life even in an indirect way.

"I ...I'm sorry"

"That's new" He joked

"Don't make me regret saying that"

"Sorry" His big smile was kind of cute.

"But really, I'm sorry I was mean, I should not have projected my breakup on you"

"Well..." He parked in front of your building and turned off the engine. "I'm sorry I was childish and tried to get you to like me by bullying you, I swear I'm out of my 6-year-old phase"

"You wanted me to like you?"

"Yeah, you're my best mate's girlfriend's best friend, so if we're going to see each other so much, we should be best friends too. Also, you're actually nice, you don't have bad taste in music..."

"And I have a gorgeous face... your words, not mine"

The curly hair bounced as he laughed at your comment, and you could swear you saw him blushing.

"And you have a really, REALLY gorgeous face"

"Thanks" You framed your face with your hands in an exaggerated flirty way. "Sooo, drinking and driving is against the law even if it's nonalcoholic, and your house is far enough for your chocolate to get cold by the time you get there, as a peace offering, do you want to come up and finish our drinks in a warmer place?

"That would be nice" He smiled taking off his seatbelt fast, as if he was already waiting for the invitation.

He opened the car door for you and walked behind you, shielding your body from the cold British air. You had been so focused on hating him that you didn`t realize how polite and funny he was. It was like meeting a completely new person.

The elevator dinged, letting you know you had arrived at your floor. As you were about to walk out Lando grabbed your wrist and pulled you back in, making you clash against his chest, almost dropping your drink. He stared into your eyes, searching for any sign that you were uncomfortable. He must've seen the fire in his eyes reflected on yours, so he leaned in to kiss your lips, and you kissed him back.

The arm that held your cup wrapped around his neck as your free hand went to make a fist with his curls, one of his arms wrapped around your waist, and his free hand went to your neck, his fingers keeping a blood-rushing grip on it.

He broke the kiss and gave a soft bite to your lower lip.

"Sorry, couldn't help it" He sheepishly smiled as his hand moved from your neck to caress your cheek. "The sexual tension was killing me"

The elevator dinged again, and you were back down in the lobby. As the door opened, a young couple got on it. A knowing smile on their faces as they said hello.

You pushed the 7th-floor button again and stepped back against Lando's chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You could see the guy looking at the driver attentively.

"Hi, sorry to bother you, are you Lando Norris?"

"Yes" the Brit answered shyly.

"Damn, big fan, can I take a picture?"

"Sorry mate, I'm with my lady, but I can sign something for you if you want"

"Sure" He took a piece of paper from his wallet as the girl took a pen from her bag. "Thanks so much"

"Sure, mate, thanks for understanding"

The elevator dinged on their floor.

"Don't worry about it, have a good night." The couple exited and you turned to look at Lando as the elevator continued with its journey up.

"Your lady?" You asked with a raised brow.

"It sounds good, doesn't it?" He gave a small peck on your lips.

"I'll have to think about it" The elevator dinged again, and you took his hand, pulling him towards your apartment.

"Wait! Did you do all of this just so you could get inside my pants?" He pulled his shirt together, dramatically covering his chest, as you opened the apartment door.

"You wish." You answered as you pulled him inside.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

[plussizefantasia]

CozyTober Day 11: Last Minute Family Gathering

Steve Harrington x reader

warnings: mention of Steve's shitty homelife, other than that just fluff

WC: 1.2k

a/n: I'm OBSESSED with how this turned out! Steve is such a sweetheart and I love him so much in this! Reblog if you liked this and keep a look out for Day 12! (I'm catching up I promise)

You knew that Steve’s home life left a lot to be desired. In all of your years of knowing home, you could count the number of times he had told you about family dinners on your hands. You’re not sure if that was because Steve had family dinners so infrequently that there wasn’t much to share, or because when he did have them they weren’t the kind of night he liked to talk about.

Either way, when your mom told you that you’re cousins and grandparents on her side were coming over for dinner that night you knew that you could give Steve at least one good family dinner memory.

Everyone’s family had ups and downs but your mom’s side was your favorite and after dating Steve for a year you thought it might be time to introduce him to everyone. When you called to ask if he wanted to come over he practically jumped down your throat to say yes and then promptly began panicking.

“What should I wear? What should I bring?! What if your grandma doesn’t like me? What kind of stuff does your grandpa like? Should I be right on time? Or should I be like fifteen minutes early?” Question after question tumbled out his mouth.

“Stevie, baby, listen. You can wear whatever you want but it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to wear like a sweater and a nice pair of jeans. If you come early, we can hang out in my room until it’s time for dinner and I’m sure that everyone will love you because I love you and they love me.”

“I love you too.” His voice crackled through the phone, “You still didn’t tell me what your grandpa likes.”

“I will see you at 6:00 baby. I love you.” You hung up the phone and took a deep breath, nervous but excited jitters running through your body.

You passed the kitchen on the way up to your room and poked your head in to see your mom already in the midst of cooking.

“Hey Ma, Steve’s coming for dinner okay? He’ll be here around 6.”

She looked up from the bowl she was stirring, “Oh, that’ll be so nice, I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“It’s been two weeks Mom, you talked to him for like half an hour the last time he came to pick me up for school. We were both late to the first period.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

She just rolled her eyes and waved you off. How come she got to roll her eyes at you? If you did that to her you’d lose your walkman for like a whole week!

Steve got there at 5:45 before any of your family arrived and he parked several houses down. When he got to the door you were already standing there with a question on your face. “The heck you park so far away for?” 

He shrugged, “Wanted to leave enough space for everyone to park close to the house.” 

“You’re sweet.” You told him and gave him a soft kiss. 

Clutched in his hand were two small bouquets of flowers, they looked like they had been one big one that he had split in half but the thought was all you really cared about. He handed the smaller of the two off to you and kissed you once again, “You didn’t tell me what I needed to bring so I figured flowers were a safe bet.”

“You figured right, come on in, Mom’s doing pre-dishes so now is a good time to interrupt.” You pulled him through the doorway and shut it behind him. You took his jacket from him and hung it up in the hall closet. You made your way into the kitchen shortly after Steve and were not at all surprised that he and your Mom were already in deep conversation. 

You waited a solid fifteen minutes before interrupting, “Mom, can I take Steve now I wanted to get my homework done before everyone got here.” 

“Oh, sure! I’ve got a ton to do anyway.”

“Need any help?” Steve, gallently but unnecessarily asked.

“No, no you two go head upstairs, I’ll call you when people start getting here.”

“Okay, thanks Mom, Love you bye!” You call after you, not-so-subtly shoving Steve out of the kitchen and towards your room.

Once inside the safety of your four poster-covered walls, you flop down on your bed and drag Steve with you.

“What homework did you have to get done?” He asks.

“Oh, none. But I didn’t feel like standing and watching you talk to my mom for another hour.” 

He chuckles and wraps his arm around your waist, the two of you both lying on your sides and facing each other.

“Fair enough. Could you give me the rundown on everyone who's coming?” Steve asks, not doing a very good job of hiding the nervousness in his voice.

And you did, you spent the next hour in bed with your boyfriend detailing the ins and outs of your family relationships. Naming everyone and telling him who is who and what each of them likes and doesn’t like. You give him pointers on things to talk about and things to avoid and even quiz him on all the information you unloaded on him. He passes with flying colors just like you knew he would.

You're interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. You feel Steve tense up in your arms and kiss him as a distraction.

“Remember, They’ll love you because I love you and they love me. Okay?” You reassure him and smile when he nods. 

Your family slowly starts to trickle into the house and make their way to the dining room. You quickly claim your seats and place Steve in between you and your Dad; both giving him a buffer from people he doesn’t know and making him the buffer between you and your dad who is one of the grossest eaters you’ve ever met.

As the night goes on Steve perks up and starts talking to people. By the end of the night, you’re pretty sure that your Grandpa likes him more than you which you’ll deem a victory even though it stings a little.

The family migrates from room to room ‘saying their goodbyes’ for like two hours. But eventually, the house empties and it’s just you Dad, who is snoring in the recliner in the living room, your mom who refuses to let either of you help with dishes, and the two of you.

“So, was it as scary as you thought it’d be?” You asked Steve.

“Scarier.” Is his response, you smack his shoulder lightly and shake your head.

“Well, you didn’t show it, who knew you knew so much about the Roman Empire? I don’t think I’ve heard Grandad talk that much like… ever.”

“I think it’s a dude thing.” Steve laughed.

“Well, whatever it was he liked you. They all did.”

“I think so too.” Steve smiled. 

“So… you wanna come for Thanksgiving? My mom is making her garlic mashed potatoes and you love those.”

“Sure, I do love those potatoes.”

“Oh, I see how it is, the potatoes are your priority?”

“Yep.” He grins.

“Alright.” You put your hand up and start walking away. Steve manages to snag your hand and pull you back towards him.

“You know I love you.” He says, kissing you on the forehead, “I just love your mom’s mashed potatoes more.” 

You smack him.

[scoonsalicious]

10.4 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, brief mentions of sexual situations.

Word Count: 3.6k

Previously On...: Bucky ran to Lily for comfort after running out on you. Despite her best efforts, Bucky realized he done fucked up, A-aron.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Everything but this and all of you is shit right now, lol.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

After Bucky had stormed out of The WarZone that evening, you had tried to call him. Dozens of times. At first, he’d declined the calls, but soon, they went straight to voicemail, and you knew he had turned off his phone. Either that, or he’d blocked you. 

You knew he would be upset when he saw the contents of that envelope, but for him to make those accusations of you, and then to run away without even giving you an opportunity to speak or explain yourself? To say you were pissed off would be an understatement. So, you did the one thing that came to your mind as a way of dealing with the pain and frustration you were feeling: you went home and drank.

You’d been obsessively staring at her phone screen as you put back glass after glass of wine, willing Bucky to call you and apologize, to text asking for your side of the story, for anything, really, but after hours of his silence, you finally had enough and composed a single message to him:

>> When you’re done with your temper tantrum and want to talk like a grown up, you know where to find me.

Probably not the most mature thing you could have done, but you had been drinking, after all. Besides, it’s not like it had mattered; he’d never answered, anyway. You’d probably never hear from him again. That thought, amplified by the alcohol, had sent you down a dark tunnel of tears and ugly sobs. You honestly couldn’t remember ever crying this much over a man– not even when you’d found out about Connor’s affair, and you’d been married for nearly a decade; no, that had felt more like a relief, like finally having an answer to a question that had been stumping you for ages. But now, here you were, a blubbering mess over a man you hadn’t even known for a full week. 

You weren’t sure what hurt the most about it: the fact that he thought you went looking for that information, the words he’d said to you, or the way he ran out without even hearing your side of things. You didn’t even have the bandwidth to consider the betrayal of him going through your private papers.

There had just been so much potential with Bucky. So much promise. It could have been something beautiful and amazing, and now, it was over before it had even had a chance to really begin. And that just made you sad. Sad, and lonely. Maybe you’d finally get yourself a cat. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea. Perhaps it was finally time to embrace your destiny as a spinster cat lady, just like your mother had always threatened since your divorce. Why fight the inevitable?

A soft knock at your door took you out of your depression spiral. You quickly glanced at your clock– 10:45 pm. Far too late for a social call. Most likely, your nextdoor neighbor, Jeremy, had locked himself out of his apartment and wanted to hang out at yours until maintenance came by with the master key, again. 

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you made a move to stand, but the alcohol sent a wave of dizziness through your system and you almost fell stumbling back down to the couch. This time, you moved more slowly, holding on to furniture for support as you shuffled toward the front door. When you made it about half way, you heard a voice from the hallway that definitely did not belong to Jeremy. You froze.

“Sugar? Are you there? Will you open up, please?” 

Shit. What the fuck was Bucky doing here? You couldn’t possibly talk to him right now– your face was an absolute mess from crying and you were still so drunk. And what if he was still angry? 

You considered your next course of action. Opening the door was a no go– any conversation could only end in disaster. For the same reason, you couldn’t try to talk to him through the door. Knowing the effect he had on you, it would probably only be a few minutes before you were letting him in, begging him to fuck you. No, the best thing to do would be to retreat to your bedroom and hide until he went away. Maybe he would just assume you weren’t home.

Yes, that was the way to do it. To your wine-soaked brain, this seemed entirely logical.  You turned to head back into your bedroom, but you missed-stepped and banged your shin into one of your end tables.

“Fuck,” you hissed in pain, trying to keep your voice down as you rubbed what would no doubt become a spectacular bruise.

“Doll?” Bucky called from the hallway. “I know you’re in there. I just heard you. Please let me in. I just want to talk to you.”

Damn it. 

Without another thought, you hightailed it back into your bedroom, throwing yourself under the covers. Just hearing the sound of his voice through the door brought back the memory of his tirade from earlier in the day, and the words he’d spoken to you:

“You wanna know how many people I killed that didn’t make it into those files, because I promise you, sugar, there’s a hell of a lot. You want to know about the time Hydra sent me to kill an ambassador, told me to leave no witnesses, and I took out his wife and his two kids, too? ‘Cause they couldn’t have been more than ten years old. That kind of thing get you off, doll?”

The rage in his voice had been palpable, and if you were being honest, it had scared you. Not the rage, itself. You knew he was capable of it. No, what had frightened you was how quickly he had turned that rage on to you.

The thought brought a fresh wave of tears, and before you knew it, you were crying yourself into a fitful, restless slumber.

*

There was an incessant pounding coming from the living room that echoed the pounding in your skull. Moaning, you rolled over and picked up your phone to glance at the time. 1:47am. The pounding persisted, and it took your now hungover brain a moment to realize someone was knocking on your front door. 

With a groan, you shoved your head under your pillow, hoping whoever was there would go the fuck away and leave you to die in peace. 

“Ms. (Y/L/N), it’s the NYPD; please open your door.” Well. That got your attention. Sitting bolt upright, you jumped out of bed and nearly tripped trying to get to the door in a hurry. 

You checked the peep hole, making sure it actually was one of New York’s finest, and opened the door. 

“Can I help you, officer?” you asked, leaning against the door frame.

The officer gave you the once over and smirked, and it was then you remembered you’d chosen a pair of boyshort panties and an off-the shoulder cropped Army t-shirt for your pajamas that night. With a scowl, you crossed your arms over  your chest. 

“Are you “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” the officer asked, obviously amused by your discomfort. 

“I am,” you nodded. “What is this about?”

“Do you know this man?” the officer stepped aside, revealing Bucky, who was standing sheepishly off to the side of the door where you hadn’t been able to see him at first.

“Hey, doll,” he said with a shameful half smile and small wave.

“One of your neighbors found him sleeping against your door and called us. He claims he’s your boyfriend and he was just waiting for you to let him in. Since he’s an Avenger, I figured I’d give him a chance to prove his story before I booked him for trespassing.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. You were far too hungover to be dealing with this right now. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you clarified, and you didn’t miss Bucky’s face falling at your words. “But we are dating.” You stood back from the doorframe, making some space. “Come inside,” you told him with an exasperated sigh.

Bucky gave the officer an “I told you so” smirk and shoulder checked him before going inside your condo. You rolled your eyes at the childish display of machismo. You thanked the officer and moved to close the door, but he put a hand out, preventing you from closing it.

“Are you going to be safe if I leave you alone with him?” he asked you in a low voice, all trace of his earlier smirk gone. “Do you have any reason to fear for your life?”

You couldn’t help it– you snorted in laughter. “God, no,” you said. Yes, Bucky’s anger had frightened you, but you couldn’t believe he would ever go so far as to actually hurt you. He just wasn’t that kind of man, right? “I promise you, officer, I’m perfectly safe with Mr. Barnes. I mean, he’s an Avenger.”

The officer nodded. “Just making sure, miss. My partner and I will stay in the area; if there’s any trouble, call 911 and we’ll be nearby.” You thanked him for his concern, but assured him it wouldn’t be needed. He tipped his cap to you and headed for the elevator. 

You closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh. You needed to get some liquid in you. Immediately. 

Without sparing a glance at Bucky, who was standing by your coffee table, studiously avoiding looking at you,  you made your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

“Boyfriend, huh?” you said eventually, keeping your back to him as you ran the glass under your refrigerator’s water dispenser.

“Yeah… I wasn’t sure what to say to him to get him to let me stay,” he said, and his voice was closer now; you could tell he’d followed you to the kitchen.

“What are you doing here, Bucky?” you asked. You took a couple of sips from your glass before finally turning to face him. He looked… rough. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were wrinkled, and his eyes were red-rimmed, as though he, too, had spent some of the last several hours crying. 

Bucky swallowed thickly. “I came to apologize if you’ll let me,” he said, looking intently at your face. “Shit, sugar– have you been crying? Did I– fuck– I made you cry, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, doll.”

You let out a short bark of a laugh. Part of you wanted to throw your arms around him, bury your face into his shoulder, and never let him go, but what he had said to you earlier in the day was… well, it was horrendous and uncalled for, and you couldn’t, out of respect for yourself, just let it slide without some kind of explanation, and some real groveling.

“Explain yourself,” you said shortly, crossing your arms over your chest once again, as though putting a physical barrier between the two of you. 

Bucky swallowed and moved back toward your living room and began to pace. You followed, keeping a decent amount of distance between the two of you.

“I freaked out when I saw what was in that envelope,” he said. “As you no doubt know by now, I did a lot of shit, back when Hydra had me, that I’m not proud of. I’m… well, I guess you could say ‘sensitive about it’ would be an understatement. I carry a lot of guilt for what they made me do, and a lot of shame. Ever since I…” he paused, mulling over his word choice, “came back to myself, for good, I’ve been trying to make amends for all the harm I caused. To make things right. I know I can never erase all the pain I inflicted, bring back the people I killed, but I try to… to make things better. Where I can.”

He slumped down into one of your armchairs, a look of defeat crossing his handsome features. “It’s never going to be enough,” he sighed. “I know that. There are always going to be people who look at me, and only see the Soldier. No matter what I do, how much I atone, or how many lives I save, they’ll never see Bucky Barnes.”

“I told you from the beginning, Bucky,” you said, leaning against the wall that divided the living room from the kitchen, “it was obvious to me that you were blameless. A victim. And so, for you to accuse me of getting off on—”

“I know, sugar,” Bucky interrupted. He was looking up at you with sorrowful eyes. “I never should have accused you of that; I was an ass. I was…” he averted his eyes, embarrassed to admit this next part to you. “I was afraid.”

“Afraid.” You rolled the word around on your tongue. “Bucky, you’re a super soldier. A fucking Avenger. What the hell do you have to be afraid of?”

“I was afraid that if you saw the real me, what I had done, you’d run screaming in the other direction,” he admitted without looking back at you. “Or, that the only reason a dame like you could be interested in a guy like me was because you were attracted to the darkness. To the monster. That it wasn’t actually me you were into, but the Soldier.” He finally looked up at you in time to see the puzzled look you gave him.

“It happened before,” he said, voice low and shamed. “There was this girl– her name was Jessica– and I thought I was in love with her, you know? Thought maybe I’d finally found my person. Was gonna ask her to move in with me but, turns out she just had a thing for the Soldier. She got off on the violence of it.” He looked down at his vibranium hand, flexing and unflexing his fist. “The old one did so much damage. They had me use it to hurt so many innocent people, and then I found out she searched for Winter Soldier choke porn on my computer. This thing that had caused so much pain, brought me nightmares, that woke me up screaming at night, and it was her fucking kink.” 

He looked back up at you, eyes desperate and pleading. “I couldn’t stand to go through something like that again. Not with you, Major. Especially not with you. So, I panicked, and I was an ass, and I hurt you before you could explain, because I didn’t want to give you a chance to hurt me.”

You sighed and moved away from the wall. He was weakening your resolve to be pissed at him by the second. In fact, your heart was breaking for him. 

“And now I’ve ruined things between us,” he said, “before they even really had a chance to begin.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am, and I understand if you don’t want to forgive me. I was awful. I just… I just want you to know that I’ll always look back on the time we spent together as some of the best days of my life.” He made a move to stand up, but you took a step toward him.

“Oh my god, sit down, you idiot.” You walked closer, putting both your hands on his shoulders and slowly moving down to straddle his lap, his hands slipping almost subconsciously to your waist. “I don’t know if this is going to come back to bite me in the ass or not, but I forgive you.” You draped your arms around his neck and softly kissed the corner of his mouth. “Were you dumb? Yes. Did you overreact and behave like a child? Yes.” He narrowed his eyes at you, but you just playfully wrinkled your nose at him. 

“But are your concerns understandable, after everything you’ve been through? Also, yes.” You began to toy with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Next time you find yourself feeling like that, or questioning my motives, please promise me that you’ll talk to me instead of yelling at me and icing me out, okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding profusely, “I can do that. I promise.”

“Good. Now, I feel this goes without saying, but I want to make sure we’re both on the same page, here,” you said to him. “ I did not seek out those documents. Someone sent them to me, anonymously. I didn’t tell you about them when I got them because I didn’t want to offend you or remind you of a past I know you don’t enjoy reminiscing about. I meant it when I said that I only want you to tell me if and when you’re ready, so I hadn’t done more than peruse the documents to get an idea of what they were and see if there were any hints as to where they came from. The only clue I have to the sender’s identity is a note where they wrote “Do you know who you’re fucking?” in black marker, but the letters are all blocky, so it’s not even like I can compare handwriting samples or something.”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Oh, shit. Sugar, I’m so sorry. If someone is targeting you because of me…”

You blew out a raspberry and waved your hand dismissively. “I’m a big girl,” you told him. “I can take care of myself. I have a ton of guns and awards for marksmanship, so don’t worry about me.”

A corner of Bucky’s mouth tugged up. “That’s actually really hot,” he admitted. “Remind me to take you on a date to the shooting range sometime.”

You tried to bite back your grin, but failed miserably. “Cheeky of you to assume there’ll be more dates,” you teased him.

Bucky tightened his grip around your waist. “Are you saying there won’t be?” He looked genuinely concerned, and you didn’t want to tease him.

“That’s gonna depend on you, Bucky,” you told him. “I’m not Jessica, and I’m not going stand by and let you punish me for the ways she mistreated you. I can tell you right now: if you ever talk to me again the way you talked to me in my office, it will be the last time you ever talk to me, at all, do you understand?”

Bucky nodded. “I don’t want to lose you, Major,” he said, and you could feel the sincerity in every word; and you hoped that he would be true to his word. “I promise to never let my anger get the best of me and speak so disrespectfully to you ever again.”

You nodded, satisfied for now. “Good,” you said, standing up from his lap. “Then we can call it a night.”

Bucky rubbed his hands on his knees and stood up. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “I’ll, uh, just be heading back to the Compound, so…”

You tilted your head. “No. It’s late, Bucky. Come to bed.” You reached out a hand, and Bucky’s entire demeanor changed, his face lighting up with surprised, but cautious delight.

“Really?” he asked, as though he almost expected you to pull your hand away from him and tell him you were just joking. 

You shrugged your shoulders. “I missed you,” you said simply. And it was true– it had only been a few hours, really, since your fight, but you had missed him. You had seriously considered that the two of you might be over for good, and you didn’t want to waste an opportunity to be close to him. 

Bucky reached for your hand, pulling you into him in the process. You let out an ‘oof’ as you collided with his chest, but soon his arms were around you, the fingers of his flesh hand tangling in your hair. 

“I missed you, too,” he said, leaning down to kiss you, and you felt yourself melt into his hold, the rough skin of his calloused right hand dragging along the exposed skin of your hip, the cold metal of the left tracing delicate patterns up and down your side. You could forgive him practically anything when he kissed you like this.

“We should go to sleep,” you said, breathlessly pulling away from his lips, “before we get ourselves worked up into a situation.”

He followed you into your bedroom, and you did your best to not ogle him as he stripped down to his boxer briefs. The second he joined you under the covers, you scooted over to snuggle yourself against him.

“You said we can’t get each other off,” you reminded him as you burrowed your head against his hard chest and rested a hand on his ass. “You didn’t say I couldn’t cop a feel.”

Bucky chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, and you could hear the rumble of it through his skin. “Yeah, that’s definitely a loop hole, sugar,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and rested his cheek against it. Slotting his knee between your thighs, the two of you fit together like perfect puzzle pieces. 

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you said, trying to fight off a yawn.

“Goodnight, doll,” he replied, running his hands up and down your back. “Thank you for giving me a second chance. I promise, you won’t regret it.”

As you drifted off to the sound of his heartbeat, you couldn’t help but hope he was right.

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