#sometimes I forget and then I’ll stumble on a photo set

[robsclan]

Robert Sheehan in ‘Cherrybomb’ (2009) 🍒

TikTok credit to montyeditsOh

[dollslayer]

Champagne Problems

Bartender!Bucky x Reader

Summary: When your ex-boyfriend makes a surprise appearance at your sister's wedding you find help from an unexpected source.

W/C: 4,642

Warnings: NO MINORS, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption

A/N: Hey! I know it's been a minute (sorry), I wrote this for @saiyanprincessswanie's writing challenge using the bartender au! If you like this please reblog and comment and check out my other fics!! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

You sighed internally before slapping on a smile for yet another group picture. Your bridesmaid dress was itchy and you already regretted spending the entire night in it, as the reception was just starting. But it was your sister’s day and you decided that if what she really wanted was for you to wear this itchy monstrosity to honor her wedding then damn it, you’d do it. So you leaned in close with the rest of the wedding party and posed some more.

When the photographer had finished with his photos you were ushered to the family table and wedged between your mother and your aunt. You mentally cursed your sister for seating you with them because they were going to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone while simultaneously lamenting that you’d dumped your boyfriend of 4 years just a month earlier. Your mother wanted grandchildren so badly, you didn’t know why she couldn’t just settle to get them from your sister.

“Sweetheart, you and Steve were so good together though! Remember when he surprised you at Christmas with that puppy? I don’t know how you let a man like that go…” Your mom chided.

You grabbed the attention of a passing server and grabbed the champagne off their tray. If you were going to have this conversation again you needed liquid courage to do so. You downed it in three sips and your mom scoffed at you.

“Mom, we've been over this. I didn’t ask him to do that, we agreed we weren’t ready for a dog. Ugh, oh my god, anyways, we just didn’t work together. Sometimes things don’t work out, Mom. You’ll still get grandkids, just not from me.” You patted her on the shoulder but she just pursed her lips and looked past you to your aunt.

You wanted nothing more than to get wasted but you couldn’t do that to your sister. You wouldn’t get blackout drunk, but you were definitely getting drunk tonight. The reception was being held in a hotel and the wedding party had a block of rooms reserved so it’s not like you had to drive. You just had one thing to do before you did that.

The moment you’d been dreading had finally arrived, the toast. You held your freshly topped-off glass of champagne and brought your fork to it to get everyone’s attention. Someone handed you the mic and you hesitated before taking it and nervously cleared your throat.

By what you assumed could only be the grace of God you managed to deliver the perfect toast about finding the right person and soulmates and anything else you might find in a hallmark card with only minor stumbles. Everyone clapped and your brother-in-law wiped a stray tear and everyone finally dug into dinner. You just hoped that would mean your mother would be quiet about Steve for the next 20 minutes and then you could escape to the open bar.

____

You almost made it through dinner scott-free and sat back to watch your sister’s first dance. Just when you thought you were in the clear it was your aunt that threw a wrench in your plans. She was three glasses of wine deep and had that glassy look in her eye when she grabbed your elbow and pulled you closer. She spoke to you in a low voice while trying not to fumble her words.

“Listen kiddo, I know your mom is hard on you about Stevie but she just wants what’s best for you. What you two had… it was so good even I liked him! I don’t like anybody y’know that. So.. so why don’t you jus’ give ‘im another chance, make your mom happy? Couldn’t be that bad, could it? Maybe he’ll even… surprise you”

You mentally blocked out her words halfway through her speech, hoping neither of you would remember it by the end of the night. Right now you just had to get her to stop so you could get away from the table. You didn’t think you could take one more second of being shamed for leaving Steve.

You smiled sweetly and nodded in understanding towards her words.

“I know, Aunt Linda. I know. Sometimes things happen, I love mom but I’ll find someone else.”

With that you patted her on the shoulder and took off in search of the bar.

There were two bars and you wanted to go to the less crowded one. Looking around you had spotted it just past the dancefloor and made a beeline. Weaving through the now open dance floor and escaping the invitations to join your family you finally made it and leaned heavily against the countertop with a sigh.

“Rough night?” Your eyes follow the gruff yet amused voice and find that it belongs to a very handsome man with a defined jaw, clear blue eyes, and long hair that was tied back.

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“You don’t know that half of it. Nothing like a wedding to remind you how single you are” You joked.

“Ah. Yeah, that’ll do it. That’s rough. You look like you need a drink, what can I get you?”

“Dealer’s choice. Just no vodka.” You requested.

He smirked and nodded, perusing the lines of bottles that were in front of him. He bit his lip as he concentrated on what to make and you tried not to stare. You watched him get to work on your drink and couldn’t help but notice the way you could see his muscles move underneath his dress shirt.

He turned back around and proudly presented you with something fizzy in a highball glass.

“My own concoction, I even used the non-watered down liquor. Just for you” He says with a wink.

You try your best to hide your shy smile and accept the drink.

“Thank you, how sweet of you.” You tell him.

“It’s nothin’. So how’s a gal like you single? If you don’t mind my asking. Seems pretty impossible to me.”

You're caught somewhere between flattery and embarrassment and just hope it doesn't show on your face. You take a long sip of your drink and gear up to answer him.

“Well, I just got out of a 4 year relationship, actually. He’s really sweet but he always had a tendency to steamroll my needs and just do whatever he was going to do. Eventually that shit adds up.” You sigh.

“Like for example - last year we had talked about getting a dog and I said I wasn’t ready, we’re just both way too busy and then on Christmas day he shows up with this puppy! And then I’m the villain for telling him no! The puppy ended up going to a good home but he did stuff like that all the time. It just became too much. Anyways now my mom won’t get off my ass about leaving him.” You shook your head.

“A puppy? Wow, that’s… intense. That’s a lot, I’m sorry. You finish that drink and I’ll pour us both a shot” He laughed.

You nodded in agreement and downed the rest of the cocktail. He held up two shot glasses and extended one to you.

“A toast, to… wait. I don’t even know your name!”

His shoulders shook as he laughed and he answered you.

“I’m James but you can call me Bucky” You made a face at that.

“What kinda name is Bucky?” You asked before giving him your own name.

“Whatever, I’ve got two shots of tequila, you want one or not?” How could you say no?

“A toast,” You continued, “To you and your weird name, Bucky.”

He laughed and you clinked your glasses together, then against the counter before downing them in one go. You tried your best not to make a face and looked up at Bucky to find him extending you the lime chaser, which you took gratefully.

“Hoo… I could use like, 3 more of those to get through tonight. So, how’d you get into bartending?”

“I needed somethin’ to put me through school and I figured this beats stripping. Though, with some of the customers we get sometimes I’m not so sure”

You laughed at that and Bucky went on to tell you anecdotes of all the crazy people he’s had to serve, disastrous weddings, and the time he got a lapdance from the bride herself. You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed but you were enjoying talking to him, forgetting your mission to be drunk.

The two of you kept swapping stories and were getting to know each other a bit more. He let you vent about Steve and just listened, it was refreshing to talk to someone and not be told what it is that you should be wanting. When you pictured the night you didn’t picture yourself confiding in the bartender tonight but if you were honest you were enjoying yourself. It beat awkwardly dancing with your family and enduring more disappointed remarks from your family.

You had hoped you could hide out at the bar and spend the entire night unscathed when the double doors to the ballroom opened. Your heartbeat in your ears as time slowed down around you as a blond head of hair made its way through the archway. Your laughter died in your throat when Baby blue eyes found you across the room and you froze like a deer in headlights. No. Nononononono this isn’t happening.

Time has somehow come to a halt while simultaneously hurtling forward since you can’t get yourself unstuck from this moment yet fail to realize that Steve is now standing right in front of you. His hair is swept back perfectly and he flashes you that million dollar smile of his that shows off his dimples perfectly. You scold yourself for checking him out but damn did he always clean up nice.

“Hey, sweetheart” he says shyly, as if he’s not crashing your sister’s wedding to get with you.

“What…? What are you doing… here?” You ask quietly, trying to avoid a scene.

Before he can answer you your mom comes up behind Steve and squeezes his shoulders tight, all with a big, bright smile on her face. Of course. How did I not see this coming?

“You made it!” She exclaimed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Of course, sorry to have missed the ceremony but there’s still plenty to celebrate, right?” He asked with his signature boyish smirk.

Shock was still in full effect on your features as you stood stock still. But that shock was soon giving way to anger as you slowly pieced together everything that was happening. Your mom had brought back Steve to try and get you back together and Steve was steamrolling you again.

“I… I, can’t. I can’t-” You started

“Sweetheart, how many of those have you had? You need some water.” Steve motions to the drink in your hand and you feel the anger running through your veins about to take over. You have to move this out of the room. Now.

“Why don’t we move this to the hall?” You suggested quietly.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you started moving towards the exit but you did spare one last panicked glance towards Bucky. He looked confused and his brows were quirked in a way that made him look upset, almost. You sent him a pleading look before turning back around and preparing yourself to deal with this shitshow that had slowly unfolded before you.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold. You got this. Your hand begins to push the door open when Steve’s much larger one covers yours and gets the job done. An action that you once would’ve thought was sweet, one that you would’ve made you swoon, even, is currently pissing you off.

You two made your way to the hallway and you looked around before you started in on him.

“Okay, what the hell, Rogers? Crashing my sister’s wedding? Really?! I don’t give a shit if my mom put you up to this I-”

“Sweetheart, please. She thought you might be having second thoughts and maybe us seeing each other would… patch things up. We just want what’s best for you, sweetheart” Steve attempted to console you, reaching out to try and rub your arm but you pulled back.

“No! I am so sick of you running me over! You never listened to me or what I had to say and this is exactly why I broke up with you, Steve! You’re being so fucki-”

“Hey, babe, everything okay out here?” Bucky’s voice surprised you but not as much as his lips pressing a kiss into your hair and his arms wrapping around your waist.

You had to crane your neck to look back and up at him. It took all of two seconds for you to piece together what you’d hoped was the truth. Bucky raised his eyebrows at you as if to say “come on” and in all your desperation you went with it. You supposed that his formal uniform made him pass for a regular guest.

“I, ah, yeah, yes. Steve here was just leaving, right?” You asked him.

Steve raised his eyebrows in a stunned expression, mouth slightly open in disbelief. His hand reached out towards your shoulder but Bucky pulled you back gently.

“Doll, are you serious? Who even is this guy? Does your mom know about this?”

“No, she doesn’t. It’s… new…” You told him.

“Right,” Bucky cuts in, “It’s new so we weren’t telling anyone just yet but she figured I should at least be here for the reception”

“Seriously?” Steve scoffs, “Man bun? What does he have that I don’t? C’mon, you know what you and I have is real.”

“What you and I have is over, Steve. You never listened to me, always pushed me further than I was ready for. We’re done, it’s over. I’m sorry for whatever Mom told you”

Steve took a harsh breath inwards and you watched him try to decide whether he should walk away or blow up. Based off of the veins popping in his forehead, he was opting to blow up.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re up to but-”

“She said it’s over, punk. Move along” Bucky cut in. He took a protective step in front of you and pushed his shoulders back, squaring up to Steve. Steve seethed quietly and you two exchanged very tense glances.

“I’m telling your mother about this. I doubt she’ll be happy to hear you brought some random person to your sister’s wedding.” Steve spat.

He walked past the two of you and bumped shoulders harshly with Bucky. Bucky’s jaw tensed and his grip on your waist tightened but he didn’t retaliate. Instead he took a step back to get a proper look at you.

“You okay?”

“Why did you do that? You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but you looked like you could really use the help.”

“Well… thank you. I appreciate it, more than you know. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.” You laughed to yourself a little and added, “We’re not even together 5 minutes and you already have all my emotional baggage”

Bucky laughed at that and shook his head.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ve got some crazy exes too. So what now? You going back in?”

You became a little flustered at that but moved past it with a sheepish grin.

“No,” You shook your head, “I think it’s best for everyone if I just go up to my room and avoid a whole scene.”

“Well at least let me walk you up. I wouldn’t put it past that creep to follow you.”

“What about the bar?”

“We’re overstaffed and the party’s winding down anyways. They’ll get on without me”

“Alright then” You accepted and started off towards the elevators.

You two were standing in the elevator waiting for the doors to close when you spotted the doors to the ballroom open. Your mother was looking around, her face a picture of anger. Lucky for you the doors closed before she could look in your direction and you let out a sigh of relief.

“You know as far as fake boyfriends go I’d say you’re pretty good”

“Just good? C’mon I had that guy on the ropes.”

“Yeah alright,” You relented with a grin.

You exited the elevator car and made your way down the hallway until finally you reached your door. You fished your keycard out of your wallet and turned to Bucky.

“Hey… do you wanna… maybe come in? Hang out? I know you’ve got work but if you’re overstaffed maybe…” You trailed off. There was a beat of silence and you felt regret instantly, thinking you’ve asked too much of him. “Y’know what nevermind, you don’t have to, I’m sorry I-”

“I’d love to hang out with you, if you’re okay with that. Plus it’s probably better I wait to get back until the wedding’s over. Can’t really show my face as your boyfriend and then get back behind the bar, can I?” He said with a soft smile.

“Suppose you’re right,” You swiped the card and cracked open the door.

You stepped inside and felt like you could finally breathe again. You kicked off your heels and went to turn on the lights. You reached back to get the zipper of your dress but couldn’t quite get there.

“Will you get my zipper?” You asked Bucky. He nodded and came closer to you.

You could feel his warmth radiating from him when he was this close. Your nostrils filled with the heady scent of his aftershave. He smells so good. He unzipped you halfway and left the rest for you.

You thanked him and grabbed your change of clothes and headed to the bathroom. Relieved to finally be free of the itchy monstrosity of a bridesmaids dress you sighed and put on a tank top and pair of shorts. You realized the tank top showed a little more of your cleavage than intended but you shrugged it off and exited the bathroom.

Bucky’s eyes landed on you and he took a sharp breath in but tried to play it cool. It half worked, you caught him staring a little bit and giggled to yourself. When you looked at him again he was undoing his tie and the first two buttons of his shirt. Wonder what he’d look like if he unbuttoned just a few more… You stopped yourself in that line of thinking and joined him on the couch.

“I think your phone’s gonna zap itself into an early grave with the way it’s been going off” Bucky said as he pointed to your phone on the table.

You picked it up to find you had several missed calls from your mother, one from Steve, and one very long text message from him that was already inducing a headache. You opened it, forgetting you had read receipts on. Oops. You weren’t going to read this now in front of Bucky, so you shut it off and put it aside.

“So how are you feelin’?” He asked.

“Better now that I’m out that damned dress. As for my family, they'll get over themselves. I don’t know why who I’m dating is such a big deal to them anyways.”

“You do look more comfy now that you’ve changed. If you don’t mind me sayin’ you’re just as gorgeous now as you were all dolled up”

You felt heat flood your cheeks instantly and eked out a thank you. You and Bucky talked for an hour more or so and in that time you’d found yourself nodding off with your head on his chest. On instinct he brought your whole body closer to him and put his arm around you. If you were less sleepy you’d be embarrassed but right now you didn’t care.

Bucky had moved slightly and inadvertently jolted you awake. You shot up and realized that you’d cuddled your way into Bucky’s side and now the embarrassment was catching up with you. You instantly scooted back to give him some space.

“Sorry, I uh, didn’t mean to cuddle you” You said while avoiding his gaze.

You felt a hand on your thigh and finally looked up to find him smirking at you.

“I didn’t mind it. It’s getting late though, I should get back.”

You were slightly disappointed but nodded your head. You rose and followed him to the door. He went for the handle but turned around when you grabbed his hand. He stepped away from the door and was in your personal space. You looked up at him with a shaky breath.

“Thank you, again, for what you did. It was really sweet of you.” He smiled down at you and brought one hand to your face. Oh God, I didn’t prepare for this. Your heart was beating just a little harder as you looked into his clear blue eyes.

“For you? Anytime. I had a really fun time with you tonight.”

“Me too.”

With that his other hand came up to cup your face and he kissed you sweetly. It wasn’t until you kissed him back that he pulled away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I don’t wanna make you uncomf-”

You grabbed him by the shirt collar and brought him in for another kiss. This time more demanding but just as sweet. He let out a small moan and you swear you could’ve melted. His tongue explored your mouth while his hands moved their way down your body and brought you even closer to him. You could feel that he was hard and it only made you want him more.

Without breaking the kiss you started to move backwards towards the bed until finally you were just at the edge of it. You broke apart for air and searched his eyes only to find his pupils blown wide in lust. You cupped him through his pants and he groaned. He was big. Maybe even bigger than Steve.

“We don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to do,” He breathed out. You shook your head and kissed him again.

“I want you, I’m sure.” You panted out.

“I don’t have a condom”

“Doesn’ matter, I’m on the pill” You told him. With that his hands were up your tank top and you’d helped him to remove it. He worked on his shirt next and while he fumbled with the buttons you took off the rest of your clothing.

Bucky was every bit as devastating as you’d thought he’d be and you let out a genuine sigh. His toned muscles rippled throughout his arms and torso and you watched him remove his boxers and you’re not entirely sure your jaw hadn’t dropped. He noticed you gawking and chuckled as he leaned down to join you on the bed.

“See somethin’ you like?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer though, he pushed you backwards onto the bed and kissed you again, this time trailing his kisses all the way down your body. He stopped and took his time to admire each of your breasts, licking and biting your nipples. You’d gasped in surprise and pleasure. He moved his way down finally to your pussy and looked up at you.

“Can I? You could only nod and let out a shaky breath as you sat up on your elbows and watched him get to work. He kissed and caressed your thighs until finally his fingers were prodding at your entrance. He groaned at how wet you were and pushed two fingers in. You let out an obscene moan and your hands went into his locks. His tongue lapped at your clit before he sucked on it, all the while pumping his fingers in and out of you in search of your G-spot.

You’d pulled his hair out of his bun and guided his tongue where he needed to be. Finally getting the right angle you were whimpering in pleasure, back arched almost to a point of pain. He’d finally found the spot he’d been looking for and your eyes shut closed in pleasure.

“Please,” you begged, “Please don’t stop I’m so close”

You pushed his head harder against you and his fingers sped up. It was only a matter of moments until your toes were curling in pleasure and you writhed on the bed in the aftershock of your orgasm. Bucky continued to lap away at you until you pushed him off. He came back up to eye level with you and had a wolfish grin.

“Who knew you’d make such noises? God it was so hot”

You pulled him in for another kiss and reached down to grab his cock. You pumped it a few times before you moved down to return the favor when he stopped you. You looked up at him with brows pinched in concern.

“Don’ worry about me, I just wanna feel you”

He moved you beneath him and you spread your legs apart for him. You were still sensitive in your post-high when his tip brushed your clit but you didn’t mind the bolt of pleasure. He aligned himself with your entrance and looked you in the eye as he pushed all the way inside of you slowly. You let out an involuntary moan, trying to accommodate his full length.

“You good?” He asked.

“I’m good, you’re just...big” He smirked at that.

“Can I move or do you need a second?”

“No, you can move, please move.”

One hand on your hip and the other on your breast he started thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. You swore you could feel every bump and ridge of him with every inch he put into you. His pace picked up and he kissed the column of your neck, finding the one spot that drove you crazy. Your small mewls turned to full moans and he began fucking you harder.

“‘M not gonna last much longer” He told you. You didn’t say anything in response, just brought him in for another kiss and grabbed a handful of his ass to push him further inside you. He chuckled at that and took the hint.

He was going the hardest he had so far and you were holding on for dear life and loving every minute of it. His panting breaths were heavy in your ears and you reached down to toy with your clit so you’d cum together. His thrusts were getting a little sloppier and your hand moved faster, quickly approaching both your peaks. He let out an almost pornographic moan as he came, He fucked you through his orgasm and not a moment later you came for a second time. Your bodies melded together as you rode out the last waves of each other’s orgasms.

Finally Bucky stopped and held himself with one hand, trying to catch his breath. You were slightly dazed, trying to compute how your night had ended up like this. Bucky rolled over onto the bed and you felt the mess between your thighs. You looked over to him with a hazy smile.

“So, I know we’re doin’ things a little backwards here but, maybe I could take you out some time? If you want?”

Your smile grew even wider and your heart felt so light in this moment.

“I’d like that”

You didn’t know what tomorrow would hold or how to even begin cleaning up the mess with your family. You’d deal with it all in the morning, for now you’d just bask in the afterglow with your fake boyfriend and be grateful for chance meetings.

[meltwonu]

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [Chapter 1] 

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, dom!wonwoo, dirty talk, masturbation, sex toys, mentions of sexting/sending photos/videos, baby this has hella plot lmao dkhf 🥴💕 WELCOME TO UNTIL I MET YOU!! THE MINI-SEQUEL TO CAFFEINE! A bit of a shorter chapter but I didn’t want to overload with too much everything in the first chapter, ykwim? 😎 Thank you so much for your patience with this sequel, I know there were a ton of people asking for a sequel for months after I said I would 💕😭😭 As always, inbox roundup tomorrow! And don’t forget, next chapter for UIMY goes up on Feb 26th! T|H ch 1 next Friday! 🥰💕 Enjoy ch 1, have a great weekend and I love you! 💕

chapters; 1 - x - x - x - x

“Mmh… Wonwoo…”

His hands roam all over your naked body; warmth spreading all over when he digs his blunt fingernails into the skin of your waist.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Did you miss me, sweetheart?” His voice is soft, gentle, yet teasing; barely above a whisper as your back bows off of the bed to lean into his simple touches. “I missed you, sweetheart. Missed your ‘lil cunt too.”

A choked sob falls from your lips, followed quickly by rushed, hurried cries for Wonwoo to move faster.

“Don’t you want me to take my time? We haven’t seen each other in months.” 

There’s a smirk on his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief when you reply back with a shaky whine. “Don’t you want me to slide my cock into your pretty ‘lil pussy nice ‘n slow? Let you feel every inch of me filling you up, just like it’s the first time all over again.” He stares at you dreamily; fixated on the way your body chases his hands when he drags them down to your thighs. “Or would you prefer it if I fucked you hard and fast? Your cute body squirming and trembling from how good I give it to you and my cock slamming into your tight ‘lil cunt.”

Wonwoo’s fingertips spread your folds as he licks his lips; appreciating how wet you already were for him.

“Bet your toys don’t feel as good as the real thing, huh?”

You shake your head ‘no’ furiously, “N-no, god, no! Wonwoo, p-please!” The male grins down at you, pouting mockingly at your desperate, pleading eyes. 

The wetness between your legs is unbearable and the sobs are caught in your throat when Wonwoo leans over you, lips ghosting across your own.

“Okay. Just say--”

You’re shocked awake by your alarm clock; chest heaving in deep breaths as you sit up in your crumpled sheets. “Oh, fuck...” Groaning, your clammy palms reach for the ringing device as you shut it off and sigh.

The clock reads 10:02AM; tired eyes trying to blink away the sleep that threatens to take you back to the dreamland you much preferred. Although, dreaming about Wonwoo was becoming a little bit too common these last few days.

Sighing once more, you move to get out of bed; already finding your panties soaking wet and sticking to you like a second skin when you stand.

“Ugh... Damn it.”

You press the vibrator harder onto your clit; teeth chattering with the pleasure that pours over your body.

“Oh, god, please, p-please…”

Images of Wonwoo dance behind your eyelids; sultry smirks and teasing glances bringing you closer and closer to the edge of an orgasm.

If there was anything that the last few months without Wonwoo taught you, it was that you couldn’t afford to lose him - in more ways than one. And despite his lack of calls or even text messages, you held out in hopes he still felt the same way that you did despite the distance.

You sent him pictures and videos of yourself often; teasing images half naked, toys in hand, and videos crying out his name while you came. And while he took the time to reply to those with praise and adoration, he almost never sent anything back. 

When he did, it was always short, clipped replies of how exhausted he was and how he didn’t have much time.

“Ngh, h-harder…” Your toes curl against the bedsheet; phantom feelings of his cock fucking you hard and deep making you cry out in desperation to be filled by his cock.

Your phone rings on the nightstand next to you as you cum - vibrator pressed so hard against your clit that your back bows off of the sheets while your thighs shake uncontrollably. 

And for the first time in a long time, it’s an orgasm that feels like it’s worth something.

‘Gyu: hey did wonwoo text u?

‘Gyu: he’s back next monday he said

‘Gyu: idk abt classes tho, might be out of commission for a while bc jetlag

‘Gyu: thinking abt throwing him a party on friday after he comes back...

‘Gyu: u wanna plan with us orrrrr? U got a private party or sth 🥴😏

‘Gyu: lmk

You’re nervous. Shy, even.

After you’d come down from your orgasm and checked your phone, your mind momentarily went blank from shock and the first thing you’d done was text Wonwoo to ask if he was really coming back that soon.

‘Ah, yeah, I was just about to text you. Prof said we can go home early if we wanted since we finished up classes. I’ll see you sometime next week? Jetlag and stuff.’, was all he had said and in your excited state, the only thing you had responded with was an, ‘Okay, great!’, without asking when, where, or what time.

You figured you’d give him some time to readjust instead of bombarding him as soon as he got in. But each second that you knew Wonwoo was home, you found yourself itching to just be in his presence.

You just had to be a little more patient.

Wednesday morning comes and you find yourself skipping your morning class to go to the library.

For studying, you tell yourself.

The male at the receptionist table shoots you a small smile to which you awkwardly smile back before ducking into an empty aisle. All you knew was that it seemed like Wonwoo wasn’t here.

Maybe he’s still at the frat house, you wonder.

Sighing slightly under your breath, you decide that maybe getting some work done would actually help distract you from looking for the male.

You find an empty table, setting your things down before pulling out your phone. 

In all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you were being so shy and nervous about contacting Wonwoo, especially when you so unabashedly sent him nudes every few days when he was away. 

Although, with how things had been before he left and the prospect of actually dating once he came back from his semester abroad - the butterflies in your stomach had been nonstop with the different scenarios that played out in your head. You’d even gone so far as to plan what happened if Wonwoo had decided he didn’t want to make an attempt at dating you.

“Sweetheart?”

The grip you have on your phone only tightens as you whip your head around to find Wonwoo standing behind your chair and you swear your heart stops beating the same time your breath gets caught in your throat. “H-huh?”

He smiles gently down at you and you can’t help but wonder how long you were spaced out to not notice him there. 

“Is this a dream too?” You wonder aloud - Wonwoo chuckling in response as he moves to collect your things for you.

“Have you been dreaming about me that much, sweetheart?” You stutter and stumble over your words; embarrassment eating at you every second that Wonwoo has a knowing smile plastered on his lips.

“C’mon, let’s go get something to eat since we both know you’re not really here to study.”

The version of Wonwoo that sits across the cafe table is… different.

Not bad, just different.

His arms are much tanner and definitely more muscular and the glasses missing from his face lets you appreciate his eyes even more when they’re not hidden behind the thick frames. He had even opted to wear a sleeveless shirt; something that you weren’t used to when he usually was around campus in long sleeves and sweater vests.

Although, you can’t and won’t deny the way your body reacts to this Wonwoo.

“Hey, I’m talking to you and you’re just spacing out.” Muttering, he leans over the small cafe table until his face is only inches away from yours and the smirk on his lips already lets you know that you’ve been caught staring.

“Listen, I know I’ve been gone for three months but you’re lookin’ at me like you haven’t had a fix in all that time.” Your lips press into an embarrassed firm line, avoiding his stare as he raises a brow at you.

“Wait, you didn’t fuck anyone in the three months I was gone?”

“No… did you?” Your voice is barely above a whisper; a little afraid that his answer will be ‘yes’ when he takes a second longer to respond.

“Nah,” He settles back into his seat, “I told you, didn’t I? I was willing to try the whole… dating, relationship thing with you when I got back. Although, I’m somewhat surprised one of the others didn’t try to seduce you while I was gone.”

You laugh slightly, cheeks warm as Wonwoo teases. “I wouldn’t have given them the time of day anyway.”

Your entire body burns hot, palms clammy in your lap from how giddy you were to be with Wonwoo and it made your heart do backflips knowing that he’d still been willing to try with you.

“Ah, how was it abroad anyway? You… didn’t really say much over the past few months so I feel like I don’t know how you were. Just some messages about how tired you were...” He takes a sip of his coffee; unintentionally making you internally scream when his lips form a pout while he thinks.

“Honestly? Other than the days we were excavating ‘n stuff, it was pretty boring. Really hectic though, and a lot of documenting which meant a lot of paperwork. I swear, I closed my eyes and I saw the inside of my textbooks.” He chuckles lightly, eyes focused on the cup of coffee in front of him.

“I just want to say sorry for my lack of communication. I really didn’t expect to be so busy that I couldn’t even pick up a call.” There’s a genuine apologetic look on Wonwoo’s face when he looks back at you. “And the time difference was really rough too. I didn’t want to take it out on you over the phone if I was stressed about not sleeping or the workload. I know we can get a little rough when we ‘play’ but this wasn’t that and it wouldn’t have been fair.”

Oh.

“T-that’s okay, I understand!” Your heart does somersaults in your chest, “I--thank you for thinking about me too.”

The feelings you have bubbling up inside of you make you feel like you’re falling in love for the first time, all over again. “Um… Sorry I sent so many pictures ‘n stuff.”

Wonwoo laughs, this time throwing his head back slightly before he tries to hide his wide grin. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t apologize.” Your eyes meet his and for a split second, you see the familiar dominating look in his eyes before he leans over the small cafe table again.

“I might’ve not had all the time to entertain you those times but I thought about you alllll the time. I missed everything about you.” His voice is barely above a whisper - careful to not let anyone else in the cafe hear the topic of conversation. “Which, by the way…You piqued my interest earlier with your question. You never really answered my question about having dreams about me.”

You shift in your seat as you avert your eyes from his; eyes flitting down his toned body instead as you mentally curse yourself.

“I… kinda? I m-mean… not normally but just--just these last few days. It’s almost been every night… I wake up and--and it’s just… I’m...” You trail off; somewhat shy to say the rest of what you were going to say even though you’re almost certain Wonwoo already knows.

“Odd. Me too. I kept dreaming about you, which is, honestly, kind of why I thought to come back earlier.”

“Oh?”

“Mm, we still had 2 weeks left, technically. A bit of a spillover since my professor wanted us to explore the city once finals were over. But I just wanted to come home.” He finishes with a chuckle - a soft look in his eyes.

You pout back at him, “You didn’t come home early just for ‘lil ‘ol me, did you?” You say it jokingly, but deep down you do wonder.

“Would that be so bad?” Grinning, Wonwoo sets a couple of bills down onto the table to cover the meals you both barely have touched.

“Like I said, I missed everything about you, sweetheart.”

Wonwoo walks you back to your place afterwards; laughing and joking with you as if he hadn’t been gone for the last 3 months. 

There’s a certain playfulness about him that makes your heart bloom and part of you wonders if he’s opening up to you more now that there’d been some time apart.

“Are you gonna be working at the library again? Or is that done forever now?” “Mm.. I mean, it’d be kind of weird if I stopped, don’t you think?”

The grin of his face is telling and you have to mentally stop yourself from letting your mind wander in the middle of the sidewalk. “Y-yeah... Studying in my apartment isn’t really the same, y’know…”

Laughing, Wonwoo takes the opportunity to swing an arm around your shoulder as he tucks you under his arm. “I was actually at the library earlier to ask about my position back. I start tomorrow.” Goosebumps rise on your skin and the close proximity is enough to make you whimper.

“I’m only taking two classes this semester to give myself a bit of a break so I’ll be in the library more often to fill up the time. You can always call me if you need to know where I am. I promise I’ll respond this time, sweetheart.”

Before you know it, the two of you are already standing outside of your complex as Wonwoo takes his arm off of you.

“Will I be seeing you tomorrow?�� There’s a hopeful lilt to his voice that has you nodding feverishly in return.

“I have a morning class but I’ll come by in the afternoon? I can text you to let you know, just in case.” You offer back.

Wonwoo licks his lips, tilting his head before leaning down and kissing you on the forehead.

The soft gesture momentarily throws you off as you freeze but the smoldering look in Wonwoo’s eyes when he pulls away lets you know that he’s already scheming.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

[spencers-renaissance]

This Gravitational Pull

Summary: Penelope Garcia sets her two best friends Derek & Spencer up on a blind first date. Even with the best intentions and highest expectations, no-one could've predicted it would go quite this well.

Tags: fluff, first date, au: diff first meeting, shy spencer, insecurity, anxiety, flirting, cuddling, protective derek, silly amounts of affection

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.9k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

I started writing this and then realised that I'd set their date in a pub's beer garden? I googled it and apparently they are a thing in America so I kept it in. I don't know how common they are, but I hope it's all good and you can picture the setting just fine.

Spencer really wishes he hadn’t agreed to this blind date.

Not because he doesn’t trust Penelope — he does, he trusts her implicitly and entirely — but because it's a blisteringly hot day in late July and the heat compounded by his shaking nerves is making for a rather unpleasant sweating situation.

A bumblebee buzzes quietly around the table he’s sat at, briefly interested in the iced coffee he’s got his hands wrapped around, and Spencer watches it with a gentle sort of intrigue, able to briefly take his mind off the impending date. He knows that Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan is physically attractive, Penelope had made that more than clear with both her copious photos of him and the way she’s sung his praises since she started working at the FBI, but if anything, that just makes him more nervous. If Derek wasn’t his type, then he wouldn’t have as much to lose.

He runs a nervous hand through his hair as he heaves a small sigh. Worst case scenario, he can run home to his apartment, order Indian food, bury himself in the early edition of War and Peace he just won in an auction and forget that this date ever happened.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?”

A surprisingly deep and sexy voice has him looking up from the watch face he’s been staring at perhaps a little too intensely, and he’s instantly taken aback by the Greek God standing in front of him. He’d known Derek was attractive, he'd seen pictures of him, but no camera could ever hope to do someone so beautiful any semblance of justice.

“Uh, y-yes, um, yeah. That’s me.” He shakes his head to try and recover his awkward word stumbling before discreetly wiping his sweaty palm on his trousers and standing up to shake Derek’s hand. “You’re Derek?”

“The one and only,” Derek says cheekily, shooting Spencer a grin that already has his stomach churning with a mix of excitement and crippling nerves. “Penelope told me you were gorgeous, but let me tell you, she really undersold it, pretty boy.”

His cheeks instantly flush red as he fights to maintain eye contact, blinking owlishly at the other man. Did he really just say that?

“I was going to say the same thing.”

Derek’s grin only widens. “Well, it looks like Penelope matched us well, then.”

This time Spencer allows himself to briefly duck his head as a baffling mix of pleasure and mortification swim around his chest. He puts it down to inexperience. Any other explanation will only compound his embarrassment.

“She did,” he agrees, smiling over at Derek and hoping desperately that he’s managing to stay cooler on the outside than he is on the inside. “Do you want something to drink?”

Derek nods. “I’ll go and order a beer at the bar. Do you want anything or are you okay with that coffee?”

“Oh no, I’m fine, thank you,” Spencer says, and mentally he praises himself for finally getting out a coherent sentence that doesn’t sound hopelessly mangled and flustered.

He watches Derek as he strides into the pub, looking as cool and confident as his looks and personality allow, and he realises that he really does just have a way about him. The bar is relatively crowded due to the blinding heat on a Saturday afternoon, but the bartender serves him instantly, all the girls eyeing him interestedly and the guys knocking his shoulder and joking about with him as though they’re all easy, long-time friends.

It’s nice, Spencer thinks, to be the focus of someone like that’s attention. Derek could have his pick of most people drinking here, but he only has eyes for Spencer as he comes back out, holding a tall pint and wearing a happy, focused expression as he sits back down.

“Do you not drink?” Derek asks curiously and without judgement, gesturing to his coffee.

“I go out with my friends sometimes,” Spencer says, blushing again, “but I’m a bit of a lightweight, and that’s not the best state of mind to be in on any first date, let alone a blind one.”

Derek chuckles warmly at that, and the sound is a pleasant rumble reminiscent of a distant thunderstorm. Spencer wants to melt into it.

“I think I’d like to see you all messy on a night out, pretty boy,” Derek says wryly, still grinning shamelessly, and Spencer gets the distinct impression that this ‘pretty boy’ business is going to be a Thing between them.

Spencer cocks his head and takes a sip of his coffee through the long metal straw. “Maybe you’ll have to join us some time.”

“Does that mean we’re going on another date?” Derek asks, but before Spencer can panic that he’s said the wrong thing, he’s smoothly continuing. “Because I’m more than down for that.”

“You are?”

“Pretty boy, you ever looked in the mirror?” Derek demands playfully. “Add that to this cute little nerdy bashful doctor thing you got going on and you’re the whole package. Of course I want another date with you, and we’ve barely even started this one.”

Spencer flushes bright pink at that, and decides to move the conversation on before he melts into a literal puddle in the middle of this beer garden. “So you know Penelope through work?”

Derek gets the hint. “I was part of the group that arrested her, actually,” he chuckles, “and I thought she was gonna be a nightmare to work with when we gave her the option of working for the FBI instead of going to prison. But then she showed up on her first day decked out from head to toe in pink and yellow, her hair dyed back to her natural blonde, and the way she smiled when I called her baby girl… well, it was smooth sailing from then on. Did you know her back in her Black Queen days?”

“I was her one phone call,” Spencer answers, his face splitting into an easy grin as they discuss his favourite person on planet earth. “I was terrified she was going to jail and I’d lose her forever, so I was over the moon when you guys offered her that deal. We went to get our hair done together the very next day.”

“Oh yeah? And what did Pretty Boy have done to his hair, hm?”

Spencer blushes. “Let’s just say she wasn’t the only one who had a rebellious phase?”

“Now that I have got to know more about.”

“Save it for date number two, SSA Morgan,” Spencer shoots back, relaxing into the easy banter between them.

“Alright, alright, baby, I can do that,” he says, winking again. Thankfully, Spencer manages not to do an embarrassing impression of a traffic light this time. “How did you and Penelope meet?”

“Back in college actually,” Spencer nods. “She was sort of going off the rails after her parents’ death, but I think finding a scared 12 year old in her Geography elective helped her rein it in a bit. We’ve been glued at the hip pretty much since we met. Even when I went to MIT for a bit to complete my Engineering PhD, she came with me. Since her job back then was mostly hacking and some supplemental side jobs, it didn’t really matter where she was based, she was just hellbent on protecting me like she has ever since that first Geography class.”

“Wow,” Derek says, looking genuinely shocked as he leans back a little bit, eyeing Spencer with curious eyes. “You went to college when you were twelve? I’m glad you had Penelope because that could’ve been a disaster.”

“It kind of was,” Spencer nods, laughing a little. “But it meant that I had five degrees including three doctorates by the time I was twenty-one so I wasn’t too mad about it.”

Derek stares at him consideringly, the soft smile on his face making Spencer’s stomach fill with butterflies. “You’re quite the genius aren’t you?”

“Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute.”

Derek just stares at him.

“So, yeah, I guess I’m a genius?” he says bashfully.

Derek laughs, shaking his head. “Definitely a genius. I mean, Penelope told me you were clever, but this is like… insane. Are you sure you’re okay to go out with a mere mortal like me or should I see myself out?”

“Yeah actually, Derek, sorry, it’s not going to work out,” Spencer says, feigning seriousness. “I can’t be with anybody who’s not within twenty IQ points of me or doesn’t have at least two PhDs.”

“A good actor, too? What don’t you have going for you, pretty boy?” He laughs in that wild and free kind of way Spencer always wishes he could, and he wonders whether Derek could teach him how.

Derek watches him like there’s something special about Spencer as the sound of their laughter mingles, looks at him like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be but right here, right now, and the warm intensity of it has a buzz going in Spencer’s chest, a pleasant feeling he can’t imagine anything dousing, and he never wants Derek to take his eyes off him again. Not if this is how it’s always going to make him feel.

The hours of the afternoon fly by and all of a sudden the sun is setting and they’re feeling distinctly hungry.

“How do you feel about getting some street food and taking a wander down to the beach?” Derek suggests hopefully, and Spencer can’t help the wide grin that splits his cheeks at the idea.

“Let’s do it.”

The beach is slightly cooler than the garden now the sun is setting and a soft, salty breeze is floating in from the ocean, so they sit close together in the sand, sharing their servings of nachos and fries between them.

“What’s your family like?” Spencer asks, a little daringly after a couple of minutes of comfortable silence.

Derek smiles. “They’re amazing. It’s been just me, my mom, and my two sisters since I was ten years old, but I think losing my dad only brought us closer together, y’know? We had to learn from a young age how to rely on each other, and we were also taught the very valuable lesson of just how important family is and how nothing in life is guaranteed, so we’ve made every effort to be as close to one another as possible.”

Spencer watches with quiet admiration as Derek gushes about his family, and takes another bite of their nachos. “Do they live locally?”

“No, they’re all still back in Chicago,” Derek says. “It’s sad sometimes, being so far away from them, but they would have killed me if I’d stuck around back home just for them and hadn’t chased my dream of climbing the ladder of the FBI.”

Spencer nods, chuckling along with Derek as they stare out at the quiet, tumbling waves of the ocean.

“What about you?” Derek asks. “Are you close with your family?”

Shit. He hadn’t exactly considered that asking Derek about his family would lead to reverse questioning about his own. I mean, call him a genius all you want, but social interaction is not his area of expertise.

“Uh, it’s just me and my mom. She lives back in Vegas,” he explains, clearing his throat awkwardly as he hopes that’s enough to appease his date.

Truthfully, it probably would have been, but Derek doesn’t say anything immediately, and the silence feels like it’s choking him into admitting the truth, however much it makes his chest tighten and his stomach flip with anxiety. What if this is it? What if Derek doesn’t want to start something with someone who has a family history as fucked up as his? What if he reads between the lines and sees that Spencer could be just like his mom in the future, and thinks that starting a relationship is just too risky?

“She has paranoid schizophrenia,” he blurts out, the words rolling off his tongue without his express permission, and instead of shutting up, they just keep coming. “When my dad left when I was ten, I had to be her sole carer until I left for college at twelve, but even then she refused professional help and medication, so I was taking the train from Pasadena to Las Vegas every weekend to try and help her out, and it got messy a lot of the time. It was only when I turned eighteen that things got a little bit easier, and that was only because I betrayed her trust and had her sectioned into a Sanitorium.

“They’re amazing, they take really good care of her and I did my research obviously, but I think a part of her still resents me for doing that.”

He stares out at the ocean for a couple of seconds before he suddenly realises where he is and what he’s just done.

“Oh my god,” he says as horror and dread fill him from the bottom up, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have just dumped all that on you, I’m sorry, just—”

“Hey, pretty boy,” Derek says gently, placing a reassuring hand on his back to get his attention. “It’s okay, don’t worry. I’m just happy you felt comfortable enough to tell me all of that, and besides, I asked the question, and I meant it. I wanted to know the answer.”

Spencer feels some of the panic recede a little, and he looks up at Derek to try and gauge whether he’s telling the truth. “Really?”

Derek’s expression only softens further. “Really.”

He relaxes a little further and leans into Derek’s side, smiling to himself when Derek wraps his arm fully around his waist, resting his head on top of Spencer’s.

“I feel like I’ve known you way longer than just four hours and fifty six minutes,” Spencer says eventually.

Derek chuckles, and this time Spencer can feel the low rumble against his cheek as well as hear it. “It might be the biggest cliche in the book, but I feel exactly the same, baby.”

“I think sharing street food on the beach while staring out at a sunset as romantic and beautiful as that one has cemented the cliches in this date enough already,” Spencer points out, laughing a little.

“That is very true,” Derek agrees, squeezing his hand against Spencer’s waist. “We could round all the cliches off with a kiss, if you’d like.”

Spencer sits upright, blushing again as he eyes Derek’s flirtatious but serious expression. “I’d like that a lot.”

Derek wastes no time in taking Spencer’s jaw in his hand and leaning in slowly to place a long, sensuous kiss to his lips. Spencer kisses back with as much control as is possible when your experience is next to none and you have one of the most beautiful men in the world turning your stomach inside out with his attention, but it seems to be enough for Derek because as soon as they pull away, he’s grinning widely.

“You’re quite the kisser, pretty boy.”

Spencer fights the blush but it comes anyway. “I like that.”

Derek’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “The kiss?”

“No, the pet names.”

Derek’s expression smooths out and he smiles again, a little more tenderly than his usual cheeky grin. “Well, that’s good, because I have plenty more up my sleeve, sweetheart.”

Spencer flushes with pleasure this time and settles back against Derek’s side, observing the blue sea as they settle into silence once more.

“I’m not very used to all of this, by the way,” he says after a while, the sky slowly darkening.

“Used to what?”

“This. Kissing. Dating. Pet names.”

Derek looks down at Spencer to try and get a better look at his face. “Really? You could’ve fooled me.”

“I’ve only ever had one boyfriend before, and this is only the second date I’ve ever been on.”

“Any girlfriends?”

“Not really my area.”

“And this other date, was that with boyfriend number one?”

Spencer shakes his head against Derek’s shoulder. “No, I never went on a date with him. I met him in college and we were friends first, so we never really dated, just fell into a relationship.”

“Ah.” A brief silence settles over them again, but Derek doesn’t let it hang long. “You know I’m not bothered by any of that, right? You could have never dated anyone ever before or have screwed your way round half of California and DC and it wouldn’t matter a single bit. Not if you were here with me, right now.”

He laughs softly as Derek lightens the mood, and something in Spencer’s chest feels like it falls into place at that, like his last anxious reservation has been washed away and he can really move forward, forge onward with this scarily exciting endeavour.

“You’re a good man, Derek Morgan. You know that, right?”

Derek kisses the top of his head. “I do,” he says, “but I’m not sure it’s ever sounded quite as special falling from anyone else’s lips as it does falling from yours.”

Further down the beach, another wave crashes against the shore, and the colours of the sunset fade away slowly. People pack up their picnic baskets and head home, and seagulls attack their leftovers, but none of that matters, because right now, Spencer’s world is Derek Morgan.

Penelope Garcia deserves a medal.

(Yes, I've used that "yeah I guess I'm a genius" sequence in way too many fics, leave me ALONE. )

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @marsjareau @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds @wifeyprentiss @cmily @love-pyramus @notevanbuckley @hotchscotchh (add yourself to my taglist here!)

[doctenwho]

A Dinner In (H’sCFS Pt. 2)

Hello! You’re welcome to request a sequel to anything, even if you didn’t suggest the first prompt! Glad you’re liking the writing, and apologies this took so long! Thanks for the request!

This’ll make more sense if you read the first fic first, as it’s a continuation of Hardy’s Cure for Sadness, as requested! 

Warning: None.

Word Count: 3,464

Summary: Read prompt above!

(Photo is not mine! Credit goes where credit is due! :D)

It had been a few weeks since that day you’d been blah when Alec had taken you out for a very late dinner in an attempt to cheer you up. You’d ended on good terms, him walking you out and watching you leave before retreating into the hotel for the evening.  

And you weren’t quite sure what the drink on your desk the following morning really meant. Especially when nothing else had followed the late-night outing.

You’d seen him since, of course, as the secretary of the office, but you hadn’t really talked more than before. More than the usual hellos and the customary inquiries about each of your days.  

More often than not, there was a tea, or a coffee on your desk, and you were certain it was Hardy’s doing, if by the way he ducked his eyes away from you whenever he saw you sipping the beverage was anything to go off.

You returned the favor, setting teas on his desktop whenever he was out and about, waiting for him when he returned from the chill of the late morning—you always got one for Ellie as well, and she always gave you a wide grin as she put on a show of sipping it.  

Most of the time Hardy would duck his head when he noticed it, but a few times he’d smiled at you. You weren’t always around when he’d return, even if you tried to be. Sometimes he snuck in while you were swamped with work.  

You weren’t quite sure where the two of you stood.  

He’d said some really sweet things to you, and you’d almost gotten the feeling that they two of you were on an almost date, but you weren’t sure. Hardy was a peculiar lad. You knew he liked you, but you weren’t sure if he like liked you...  

God, you sounded like a middle schooler with a crush thinking things like that.  

But the things he’d said had made your heart flutter in such a warm way—it was hard to forget. The thought of him made you smile, and you couldn’t deny the butterflies in your stomach when you'd come into work to find you fellow secretaries giving you that knowing look before you were could catch on the paper beverage cup with your name scrawled across the side if the cup.

You still hadn’t gotten the chance to really thank him for what he’d done. It would’ve been easy enough to just walk out the door, but he’d gone the extra mile to invite you along. It was nice to know that at least one of your co-workers kept you in mind and noticed when you weren’t quite right.  

You weren’t sure how to thank him for it, if you were honest.  

It had been one of your fellow receptionists who’d proposed inviting him for a meal back at your place. That had been accompanied by a raised eyebrow and a similar knowing glance.

The thought of inviting the man who was technically a boss of yours over to your home had seemed foreign at first, but you’d quickly warmed up to the idea. You liked to cook, and you’d been told by friends and family you were pretty good at cooking.  

Now you just needed to figure out how and when to invite him. Despite the two of you working together, and leaving each other little offerings of beverages, you’d never seen him not completely focused on Danny Latimer’s case.  

And whenever you happened to see him on his way in, or out, you were usually completely busy with phone calls, paperwork and townsfolk being annoyed that they actually had to wait to speak to an officer.  

He’d still shoot you a tiny smile, and sometimes a wave of his hand that was more or less just a flick of his hand, when he happened to catch your eyes across the room. It was the little things like that that made you heart skip a beat.

Hardy was alone in his office when you finally worked up the gall to ask him to your place for dinner. The door was open ajar, and when Ellie had seen you hesitating by the doorway, she’d shot you a grin and gestured you in from her desk.  

You took a breath and pushed the door open, tapping your fingers on the door as a warning as you entered. He didn’t look up from his computer even as the door squeaked. “I told you to run through those cases before coming back, Millhur. You’d can’t possibly have finished already- and if so, go again.”

“Not Ellie,” you bit the inside of your cheek, shuffling where you were standing.

Hardy’s attention shot up from the computer and he stumbled to stand up, “oh, ah, oh, sorry ‘bout that... What can I do for you, (Y/N)?”

He moved around his desk to lean against the other side, arms looking for something to do before he settled for crossing them across his chest. You hid a smile, stepping closer into the room, but still keep your distance.  

“I uh, I never did thank you for... y’know, that night...”

“Oh,” Hardy blew out a breath, head ducking in an understanding nod. His hair fell over his eyes as his head turned downwards, “you don’t have to thank me, really, I’m glad I could help. And... I had a good time to, you were good company after a long day.”

You hoped your cheeks didn’t flush as brightly as they felt like they did at the tenderness in his voice, “I uh, well, I wanted to invite you over for dinner as a- a thank you? You were so kind when no one else even noticed and... I’d like to return the favor?”

“Dinner?” Hardy raised an eyebrow, looking unsure. His arms uncrossed, but instead his palms settled on the desk as he leaned back thoughtfully. He was contemplating it, and you had half a mind to wave him off, and offer an easy out.  

“You don’t have too-”

“No,” Hardy said easily before wincing back like he hadn’t meant to be quite so abrupt, “uhm, I mean, I’d like to come have dinner with you... if you’re sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I’m sure,” you promise with a surprised smile. It’s small, but happy. Hardy returns a smaller one, body relaxing just slightly where he’s leaning against his desk. “Are you free tonight? Or, uh, when are you free?”

“No, I’m free tonight,” he nods, smiling at how flustered you are. It’s weird, you decided, but not a bad weird. Just... strange. He isn’t much better, just as antsy as you, but you’re hanging onto the hope that inviting him over will result in the same light conversation and easy atmosphere as it had when the two of you had grabbed dinner at the Trader’s Hotel.

It had been a lovely evening, and when the two of you had let yourselves let your guards down, you’d had a good time together. Hopefully tonight would play out the same.

“Perfect,” you give a light laugh, playing with your fingers in front of you, “does six work for you? I uh, I get off at five today.”

“How about six-thirty?” Hardy offers awkwardly, looking apologetic, “Millhur and I’ll be going to check out a lead on the Danny Latimer case, and I don’t expect us to be back before six at the latest. Wouldn’t want to be late...”

“Six-thirty works,” you chirp, flashing him a grin. “That’s perfect...” you rattle off your address for him, before stepping back towards the doorway, “so, uh, see you tonight then?”

“See you tonight,” he nods, finally stepped away from his stiff lean against the desk.  

You slip out the door as Hardy returns to his desk. He gives you a small wave as you pull the door shut behind you. You let out a nervous breath.  

When you turn around, you’re met with a grinning Ellie Miller, “so... how’d it go?”

----

You’d waved Alec and Ellie out when they’d left on the lead that Hardy had mentioned. Ellie gave you a thumbs up, and Alec’s eyes shifted from you to Ellie, where his attention dulled to annoyance. She didn’t seem phased by it, and you didn’t doubt that he wasn’t always so stiff around her.

You wondered what made you so different to literally everyone else in the building that Hardy barely gave the time of day too as you typed out some documents to be sent up to the officers.  

You returned home by five fifteen, in a rush to get started on food. You didn’t know a lot about Hardy, and you certainly didn’t know what he liked. You remember Ellie mentioning something about him barely ever accepting food from her, and that he tended to not accept anything greasy,

You settled on remaking what he’d ordered that night at the Trader’s Hotel. He hadn’t eaten much of it, but he’d ordered it, so he had to have liked it.  

You found a bottle of wine you’d stashed away that had been a gift from someone at some point, but you couldn’t quite remember who’d given it to you. It would be good for tonight though, and compliment the meal. You hoped.

When the meal was cooking, and your place had been tidied up for company, you disappeared upstairs to change into something a bit nicer.  

A knock on your door came at exactly six-thirty. You smile to yourself at Alec being so punctual. It fit his character; you decide.  

You rushed to the door, smoothing your clothes down before pulling the door open and flashing a smile at your guest. For a second, he looks like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. He brushed himself out of his shock, letting a small smile curl on his lips at the sight of you.

He ducks his eyes away from you as he shifts from foot to foot. There’s a bottle of wine in one of his hands and a small bouquet of tulips in the other. He looks uncertainly between his hands before his eyes raised to your face, “hello.”

“You’ve brought flowers?” You blinked, shaking your head and smiling to yourself at the small act that had your heart beating out of your chest, “they’re beautiful.”

“Yeah, uh,” Alec swallowed nervously, “I wanted to bring chocolates as well, but Millhur told me it was weird. I don’t... y’know,” he gestured the hand holding the wine bottle between the two of you, “much. Should’ve brought more?”

“No,” you told him, “this is sweet, thank you.” He hands you the flowers and you take them into your hands and hold them against your chest, “please come in.”

He follows you through the threshold, toeing his shoes off as he goes. He follows you into the kitchen, setting the wine beside the one you’d found earlier, while you work on finding a vase for the flowers. They’re beautiful and easily make you heart skip a beat.  

“This smells delicious,” Hardy’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. It’s an honest comment, and means a lot coming from Hardy—even if it is just pleasantries.  

“Oh, thank you,” you let out a light laugh, moving to set the flowers on the table as a center piece. “I wasn’t sure what to make, so I went with what you ordered because I know you like it. Ellie mentioned you didn’t much like greasy foods, so... I hope this is okay?”

“Yes, of course,” Hardy nods, standing off to the side of the counter before he pauses, “you asked Millhur about me?”

“Uhm,” you let out a nervous laugh as you rubbed the back of your neck, “yeah... I just wanted to make sure I made something you’d like as well and... she spends the most time with you, so I thought I’d see what she suggested?”

The look on Alec’s face is an emotion you can’t quite place; or maybe it’s a mix of a few. You don’t know him well enough to decipher what emotions are crossing his features. His eyes are following you uncertainly, like he doesn’t really believe you’re real. He’s leaning against the counter with his hands intertwined together in front of him.  

“Should be done now, are you ready to eat?” Alec shakes himself from his stupor as you move towards the meal you prepared. You grab the pot of your dinner off the stove top and direct Alec to grab the salad bowl from the fridge. You grab two wine glasses, as well as the bottle Hardy brought and take those to the table where Hardy is seating himself.

You take the other seat.  

You both serve yourselves the food.

The first few minutes are quiet while you eat, and then Alec offers a soft, “this is really good, (Y/N),” and from there conversations sparks.  

It’s light and easy, like you’d hoped. That same atmosphere from the bar, but in the safety of your home which made it even better. You spend some time getting to know each other, talking softly between bites of food and sips of wine.  

“A daughter?” you ask, taking a bite of food. He’d been talking about a few of his favorite cases from his time working at Sandbrook, and had mentioned his Ex, and daughter.  

Conversations had taken a more intimate turn this time around than when the two of you were at the hotel. Maybe It's because Becca’s not eavesdropping from across the room, but Hardy seems more at ease. It didn’t feel odd to ask, and you were genuinely curious about him and his life.

“Yes,” he nods, lifting his glass to his lips, a smile on his lips at the thought of his child, “Daisy. She, ah, she lives with her mother in Sandbrook still. I... I don’t get to see her often. I don’t have a lot of free time—especially not with the Danny Latimer case active. She’s, ah, she’s fifteen.”

“Daisy sounds lovely.” You smile as you take a sip of your own wine. You’d both steadily made your way through a glass each, and Hardy had topped you both your glasses up. “We're lucky to have people like you and Ellie who are putting so much time and effort into finding the person who did that to him... It can’t be easy to leave her, and I know Ellie misses her boys during the long days and late nights.”

Hardy gave a little nod, attention on his plate. He’d eaten a lot more of his food than he had at the hotel. You’re happy he likes it, from what you’ve heard from Ellie he’s very picky. The wine he’d brought it very good too, and accompanies the meal better than the one you had on hand would’ve.

The two of you continue to chat while you enjoy your meals.  Hardy told you a bit more about some of his favorite cases, and the odd arrests he’d made back before he was a Detective Inspector. You, in turn, told him a bit about yourself, and your friends and family. Your receptionist job wasn’t very exciting, but you had good stories to share from other aspects of your life.  

The two of you finished up dinner, but continued talking over the wine when the food was gone.  

Hardy was actually pretty good company. Maybe it had been the fact that Becca was watching the two of you the last time you’d shared a meal, but here and now, he seemed to be letting himself relax just the slightest.  

“It really was quite good,” he told you with a smile as he set his cutlery on his finished plate. Your heart thrummed pridefully at the fact he’d finished his meal, unlike at the hotel where he’d eaten very little. “Thank you for this, it’s been lovely.”

“It’s no problem,” you told him, turning your head to hide your cheeks heating up. You stood gracefully, grabbing your own plate, before reaching over to grab Alec’s as well. “I’ll just get the dishes.”

He pulled his plate back before you could take it, following your lead and standing as well. “Let me help.”

You opened your mouth to promise it was fine, and that you didn’t need any help. He was a guest after all, and this was a thank you of sorts for being so kind to you—letting him wash the dishes with you didn’t really scream ‘Thank you!’ or express your gratitude for him being so much different than everyone else working at that building.

“I insist,” he watched you with a light smile, “please? You cooked for me, so I should at the very least help you tidy up?”

You couldn’t say no to that.

Hardy was good at washing dishes. You dried between tidying everything up, putting things away as you dried them. Conversation was still light and fun, and it didn’t even really feel like you were doing chores with Alec.  

While he was distracted with the pot you’d cooked the meal in, you couldn’t help but take him all in. Stood at your sink with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His suit jacket had been abandoned on the back of his chair. He was so focused on the dishes he didn’t even notice your attention straying to him, fond smile on your lips.  

You’d never really imagined a domestic Alec Hardy, but now that you were seeing it, you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to forget it. He was just so much different from DI Hardy. Still the same personality, awkwardness and quirks, but he was more relaxed. He smiled more, and didn’t seem quite so uptight—which you assumed just came with the position of DI.  

“(Y/N)?” he called, and you forced your attention back. He was holding out a wet wine glass, with one eyebrow raised curiously. He smiled as you took the glass with a sheepish grin, turning back to the sink and picking up one of the few remaining dishes.  

Together you tided up the kitchen like it hadn’t even been used that day. It was nice to not have to worry about doing it later, or even the following morning before you headed to work.  

“It’s already nine?” Alec’s voice startled you from your thoughts. You turned to look at where he was glancing at the time on your microwave. You really hadn’t thought it was so late.  

“Time really flies,” you mumbled, eyebrows furrowed in surprise.

“Indeed,” Alec gave a light laugh, “I guess I should be on my way then.”

You thought about inviting him to stay later, but then you remember your early morning tomorrow, and you assume Alec will be getting in around the same time as you. You need some sleep if you plan on functioning tomorrow.  

“Did you need a ride home?” you ask as you follow him to the dining room to retrieve his jacket. He shakes his head with a light smile as he slips the coat on.

“You’ve already done enough tonight. Dinner was lovely, and I couldn’t ask you to drive me back to the hotel. I don’t mind the walk, it’s not too far anyways.”

You fight down the rejection in his words, smiling anyways. “Alright.”

You lead Alec to the door, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him step out into the chill of the night. You don’t really want him to go. 

You wonder where the two of you stand, even after this dinner. Will things just go back to the way they’d been before like after he took you out to dinner? Did this mean something? You’d hoped this could’ve... maybe led to more, but he doesn’t seem keen on it. “Goodnight, Alec.”

The man turns back to you with a little smile before stepping back through the threshold of the house, cupping the side of you jaw with his hand as he pressed his lips against yours. You’re stunned for a second, but then you’re kissing back, smiling into it.  

He pulls back first, leaving you breathless. His hand lingers for a moment, before he’s letting his touch fall away and he’s slipping his hand into his pocket, “goodnight.���

You watched with lidded eyes in an almost stunned silence as Alec disappears into the night. You watch his retreating back as you lift your fingers to touch against your tingling lips, smiling softly as you replay the kiss in your mind.

When he’s gone from sight, you shut your door, lock it and then lean against it with a happy sigh.  

You don’t have to wonder where you stand with Alec Hardy anymore; he’s made that completely obvious.

<><><><>

Thank you so much for taking the time to read! I hope this was suffice? It was fun to write, so thank you for the prompt!

As always, if it wasn’t what you were looking for, feel free to prompt me again! It might take a bit though :( Anyways! Have a good morning/day/night! <3

[gojology]

The Start of Winter Break. (18+)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | I FEEL RLLY SAD CUZ I WANTED TO DO THE SUKUNA BUT I DONT KNOW THE STORY ON ALADDIN SO I OPTED FOR 2 INSTEAD IM SORRY ANON. anyways i wanted to feed u guys rlly well and actually took the time to write and edit. I’M REFORMED also writing on google docs is so hard?? (reposting cuz i think im shadowbanned)

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 3798

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Food Play, Nipple Play, Oral (Fem Receiving), Degrading Nicknames (I didn’t really proof read that hard but I know there’s like, a mention of one nickname along the lines of that.)

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | It’s the first day of Winter Break, and you want to surprise Gojo with a cup of hot cocoa, instead, Gojo surprises you.       Blinking your eyes furiously, you adjusted to the dark room. Immediately, you breathe a sigh of relief. You didn’t have to wake up at such an early hour, and for once you woke up refreshed. It was finally the first day of Winter Break, you had overworked yourself, making sure that you were to spend the end of the year work-free and available for as many Christmas parties you wanted to attend.        Yawning, stretching as you did so, you look over your shoulder. There’s a slight smile dawning on Gojo’s lips.  His long eyelashes fluttered when he slept. He slightly snored, grabbing at where you once slept in his arms.   The room was unusually cold. You had always awoke to sunlight streaming from the window, realizing that could only mean that another day of work was ahead of you. But now, the room was dim, and freezing might you add. You couldn’t wait to snuggle with Gojo, this was perfect cuddle weather.   Tearing your eyes away from Gojo’s pretty face, you instead looked at the door. Years of photos with Gojo absolutely slathered the poor thing, past memories all flickering before your eyes. Pictures in Disneyland, bright colors in contrast with the rather dark clothes he always seemed to wear.   Once in a while, you would see pictures of Yuuji, Shoko, Megumi, Nobara, just about every Tokyo Jujutsu Tech School member there was, and even Utahime, celebrating good times with Gojo.      You didn’t find yourself in many of the pictures, but the ones you did find yourself happened to be some of your fondest memories.   Far more common were pictures of you, with ridiculous, shit, you’d even go as far as to say downright ugly faces while he told you a stupid joke were also taped sloppily, some photos were even slanted.    Gojo had made it a firm promise to take pictures of you when you least expected it, because that’s when he always found you the cutest.   You peek at Gojo’s sleeping face once more, a slight giggle rising from your throat that you struggled to silence. His mouth, slightly agape, was now drooling onto the pillow he oh so gracefully rested on.     Jerking your head up and snapping out of your Gojo daze, you realized that you were supposed to make your daily morning coffee for you and him today. You had chewed him out multiple times, telling him that the way he made coffee was nauseating. Usually, Gojo would always accompany the bitter drink with 8 sugarcubes, which was not your thing.   He always seemed to forget, honestly you couldn’t really tell with him, giving you a mug of absurdly sweetened coffee every morning. You always foolishly assumed that he had listened to you from the last scolding, so you would always sip it, letting the coffee coat your pallet, but promptly spit it out as soon as you realized how sickly sweet it was.     “Satoru! This is too sweet!”   “Honeybun, you’re the sweetest thing in this room, what do you mean the coffee could be too sweet? Not possible.” he would inquire innocently, tilting his head to the side.   You’d frown, shaking your head and muttering about the acts of distaste you’d do to him before Gojo bursts into a fit of laughter, pointing at you and watching you unenthusiastically look back. Most likely fuming silently, but you didn’t want to tell him that.   “You’re so fucking cute when you’re angry, (Y/N).”     “Satoru, I can literally not survive the day without coffee. Whatever you’re serving me is definitely not the coffee I want, and sooner or later I’ll be dropping dead.”     He would shrug playfully, as if he didn’t even understand the core concepts of what you were trying to tell him. But you knew he did, he just didn’t want to do it.    You would clench your fists, trying to look threatening. Your back straightening, and on your tippy toes even though you knew you could never be as tall as him. It never ever worked though, he would just continue to laugh harder, but that was just the routine.    “Then do it yourself, sweetie. I wake up at the asscrack of dawn just to make you a cup of coffee. I don’t know about you, but that’s the best show of love.”      “Oh I will. I’ll do it well.”      And so, you weren’t lying. The two of you began to take turns. You woke up even earlier than you did for work, and made him his coffee (with extra sugar, just as he likes it) while also making yours, making sure to relish the bitter and frankly delicious black drink, void of any sweetening. The next day, he would as well. He never listened to your sugar lectures though, making sure to add 3-4 cubes just to make you angry.    You had pretty much given up on all hope of ever getting your ideal coffee from Satoru, it was beyond him to even listen. Besides, you had grown to like the sweetness.   Speaking of brown sweet liquids, it was a perfect hot cocoa morning. The snow was beginning to pile up outside, pure white blanketing just about everything. You hastily threw on an oversized sweater Gojo owned, which you had found strewn on the ground.   You rolled your eyes, that guy was a mess. What would he do without you?   Trudging and stumbling your way into the kitchen like a newborn fawn, you flicked on the lights. As soon as the lights came on, you shielded your eyes from the brightness. Cursing as you pulled out a chair, your eyes slowly adjusting, pulling the chair over to the shelves and cabinets out of reach.   Now standing on the wooden chair, you grumbled. So much for being a good girlfriend, your legs ached for some reason, so every time you stood on your tippy toes, you winced.   Knocking down a bottle of vegetable oil into the sink, you were startled by such an incredibly loud noise. Your eyes widen and your legs tangle as you scramble, almost falling backwards. Grabbing onto the cabinet’s ledge, you breathed a sigh of relief as the chair stabilized.    This was a blessing in disguise, as the chocolate syrup came into view.   A feeling of triumph flooding you, you happily hummed gently pulling it out. Setting it down on the counter, you got down, moving the chair over to the right.   Standing back onto the chair, you placed a finger on your lips, slightly rubbing them. Your memory wasn’t doing you very well, forgetting where all the extra add-ons for baked goods were.   Your tongue stuck out to the side, swinging a random cabinet’s doors wide open. You had guessed correctly, sprinkles of various vivid colors stood idly, eye-catching colors on full display. A fine coat of dust had settled on the caps.   You coughed into your arm, now rummaging through the many sprinkles that Gojo would insist on buying because, “they were too cute to pass up.”      Sometimes, you swore the guy was a middle-aged Pinterest mom.   Yanking out a half opened bag of Jumbo Marshmallows, you did a small victory dance. Normally, Gojo would inhale the darned things, but he was asleep, and very soundly at that. Finally able to have your first taste of marshmallows in a while, you popped a couple in your mouth, practically melting.   So sweet.   Strolling over to the fridge while popping more marshmallows in your mouth, you lazily threw the bag onto the counter. Swinging the fridge door wide open, you shivered at the cold air, hauling a jug of milk out.   As usual, it was half full. Gojo would insist on eating all his cookies with milk, and if he didn’t have milk with his cookies, he would not eat them, stating that it was against his beliefs to even begin to stare at a cookie without a cold glass of milk at the side.   He was probably a 9 year old trapped in a 28 year olds body.   Humming a short tune, you poured the milk into a mug that Gojo had bought for you as a souvenir on a business trip. Painted onto it was a beautiful scene. Flourishing, vibrant flowers only half-heartedly concealing an undisturbed pond, deers frolicking around it. The mug was your favorite cup, and even Gojo, who most likely had the memory span of a goldfish when it came to unnecessary facts such as this one, knew it.   You flipped the chocolate syrup bottle upside down, smacking the top. Making a note to yourself to buy chocolate syrup the next time you went out. Strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer.   “Boo.”   Startled, you twirled around, expecting a rather friendly home invader, or something along the lines of that. Instead, you were greeted with Gojo Satoru’s face. Satoru’s eyebrow twitches, looking at you with an amused expression.   “Scared? We’re on the same boat.” he snickered, “woke up to some loud ass bang.” Gojo sleepy whispered into your ear, ruffling your hair with his large, calloused hands. His chin now resting on your right shoulder.     “I dropped the vegetable oil on accident.” You ignored the light, fluttering feeling when he touched you.     “Gosh, you’re a clumsy one aren’t you, sugar?”       Scoffing, you whip your head back to the hot chocolate. An unhealthy serving of chocolate syrup was splattered inside the mug, already blending with the milk.   “Don’t turn your back on me, pumpkin.” whining playfully, tugging at your left shoulder. There was something about such a playful, childish Gojo that you loved. You wished you got to see it more often.    You pretend to be annoyed, looking at him, now standing up without the support of your shoulder, in the eye now. A flicker of mischievousness over his face, he looks down at you.   “How thoughtful.” kissing your temple, he yawned. “Making hot chocolate for me? Oh hey- you even got the exact same amount of chocolate I like.”   “Satoru.” hands on your hips, you were bemused. How could one even like sugar this much?    “This is an ungodly amount of chocolate syrup, and can NOT be good for you.”   His warm gaze stared back, a slight curve to his lips now. You swear you could die a happy girl now, Gojo wasn’t sleepy very often, so when he was, you made sure to relish it. Usually, when you were lucky enough to be in the presence of a sleepy Gojo, he was always softer. Giving you small, coy smiles. Your retort didn’t even seem to register in his brain in the slightest.   “I want it, though.”   You sighed, facepalming.     “Ooooh, marshmallows!” suddenly bursting with energy he never exhibited before seeing the sugary treat, his long arm extended over to the bag, tugging at it to get it closer to him before finally shoving 3 or more into his mouth.   “Satoru!” you yank his hand back from the entrance of his mouth, able to save a few, albeit a bit ugly and smooshed, marshmallows.   “Wha?” he rubbed his eyes, chewing noisily on the marshmallows he was lucky enough to get into his mouth.   “Baby. We need those marshmallows, here, can you microwave a bowl of them? Save a few for later.”   He nodded obediently, tugging a bowl out of the “washed dishes” section of the sink. Wiping it down sloppily with a towel. He dug his hand into the marshmallow bag, throwing a few handfuls into the bowl before carefully placing the bowl into a microwave, sneaking a few more into his mouth before jabbing at a few buttons.    “There.” he gave you a crooked grin and a thumbs up, walking back over to you, placing warm fingers against your cheek, suddenly jumping back.   “Holy shit, babygirl, you’re cold.”   About to respond, you too realized how cold you were. Lightly shivering, your hands seemed to be blocks of ice.   “Babe, can you go get an extra sweater-”   Hands under your sweater (well, technically his) suddenly, his warm, big hands massaged your breasts. You yelped, the hot contact against your cold skin was electrifying. His thumbs, rubbing over your nipples lazily, sent even more shivers down your spine. Quietly moaning, you looked back at Gojo, who seemed to thoroughly savor every little sound you made.   “Like that, lil girl~?”   “S-Satoru! Not now… I’m making you s-something!”   “Hot cocoa doesn’t take a chef to make.” he placed kisses on your neck, lightly suckling on your bare skin.   “I-I know, but just… N-not now.” you stammered, he was now tweaking your nipples, gently pulling them. He didn’t seem to register the request though, but instead was drawing lazily  on your breast.   “That better, missy?” he questioned, watching you catch your breath and gulp. Resting his chin on your shoulder once more.   “Mmmmm.” you responded, thoroughly enjoying his warm touch. Closing your eyes, enjoying the mystifying feeling his hands always gave you.    Loudly, the microwave beeped. Suddenly jumping up from the loud occurrence, Gojo cursed under his breath and jogged over to the microwave, swinging the handle open.   “Great news, (Y/N). I didn’t burn the marshmallows!”   Grumbling under your breath, and wishing all hell to the microwave for disrupting such an intimate event, you nodded, giving him a few weak claps for his rather stupid achievement. Gesturing for him to bring the bowl over, you pulled out a spoon from the drawer beneath you.   As soon as Gojo placed the bowl on the counter, he zoomed back to where he had left off, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing it. This time, he was massaging one of your shoulders.   Your breathing was heavier when he did this, Gojo noted, watching as you struggled to mix the chocolate syrup and milk together. He did this for a while, eyeing the cooling marshmallow.   He swiped up a dollop, wiping it down your neck. Letting out a gasp by the sudden warmth, you assumed it was Gojo’s mouth. To your surprise, it wasn’t.   He licked the cloud of fluff, before straight up placing his entire mouth on it, lightly sucking and licking your skin. Your panties were getting awfully wet.   “L-love, we n-need the fluff to a-add the finishing touch to t-the hot cocoa.” you would mutter, trying not to collapse from the pleasure.   “You getting wet?” now lightly nibbling on your skin, his hand left your breast, dunking his hand underneath the fabric of your panties. He sneered, realizing the puddle that had seeped itself into the material.   “Aw, you’re absolutely wet. Fuck am I saying?” he swirled his finger around your entrance, lightly dipping one of his fingers in before he took it out. Whimpering, your walls clenched around something that wasn’t there.   “Anyways, let's get back to the hot cocoa!” innocently licking his glistening finger, he looked at you.   ‘What? Y-you can’t do that to me-!”   “Isn’t that what you wanted?” he chirped back, smiling devilishly.   “That’s what I wanted before-”   “Hush up, slut.” he rubbed your head with one hand, the other, stroking your cheek.     You didn’t realize how hot you got when he called you a slut, whimpering, the hot cocoa long forgotten on the counter as you leaned into his chest.     “Aw, you’re so cute.” tugging on your cheeks softly, you look up at him, while he looked down. Even though you were his girlfriend, you didn’t really see his eyes often. They were a brilliant shade of aquamarine, flecks of a darker blue were also sprinkled amongst the sea of various shades of blue.   “You want something? You’re giving me those puppy eyes.” Still pulling at your cheeks, he stared down patiently, unable to hide the smile on his face.   “I hate when you tease me.” you blurt out, surprisingly coherent, even though Gojo was pinching your cheek. Another flicker of amusement on his face.   “That’s not how you ask for something you want.”   He stopped pinching your cheeks, now staring at you. You couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking about, his face was blank, eyes cloudy.   “Mmm, I’ll give you one last chance before you get punished. Now missy, what do you want?”   You tugged at the hem of his pants, still making eye contact.   “You can’t have that, sweetie.” he straightened you back up, so that you weren’t leaning on his chest any longer. “It’s way too early.”   “Then what was the point of teasing me?” you groaned, clasping your hands together and looking at him. “Please?” you were sure to have your eyelashes flutter.   He laughed, shaking his head. “Sorry, princess.”   You groaned, getting down onto the cold floor, getting onto your knees, looking at his pleasurably entertained face.   “...What about now?”    He chuckled, rubbing your head again. “No, baby. I’m just not in the mood, but I can make a recommendation that works with me. Although, you’re really cute when you’re on your knees for me.”   You nodded, nervously anticipating whatever he wanted to do.   You didn’t need to wait, though, he carried you over to the table, like a princess, unclothing you quickly. Throwing his sweater onto the floor once again, you felt your heart jump a little. A small pile of clothing consisting of the sweater, your panties, and a t-shirt was crumpled up on the floor.   He cupped your breasts, leaning over the table to look at them. His expression softened, placing delicate kisses on each breast, making you gasp a little.   “So cute.” whispering, rubbing your nipples once again.   Your hands found their home in Gojo’s hair, now clenching onto his snowy white locks. He grunted a little as you pushed his head further into your chest, effectively telling you to start suckling on the now slightly abused domes.    “Just a sec, (Y/N).” extending his impossibly long limbs to grab the marshmallow fluff bowl, his long fingers danced at the rim, then pulled it closer to his chest. Yanking the spoon out of the bowl, he spread the lukewarm fluff on your body, you weren’t expecting such warmth, and you let out a yelp, realizing what he was slathering onto you.   “Satoru! D-did you forget what I said e-earlier?”   “Nope, I just don’t care.” sadistically grinning, he ducked his head down, the space between your breasts and his face non existent. He had practically smooshed himself into your embrace, your arms around his head. He was good with his tongue, you had to admit, too good.   Goosebumps grew on your skin, no matter how many times you two fucked senseless, he still had such an effect on you. His tongue swirling around your nipple, fingers rubbing and teasing the other. You felt his hot breath against your skin, and you couldn’t help but think how good it felt.     Strands of hair tickled you as he began to noisily slurp, before coming back up again. Your breast was glistening with spit, few thin lines of marshmallow fluff left over. He licked them up, before scooping up a few dollops of marshmallow fluff onto you, looking hungrily at the attention-starved breast, before diving back down. Fingers now giving the spoiled nipple almost close to 0 action.     He licked the hard nipple a few more times before sucking onto it, as if he was a baby. I mean, he probably was. Afterall, he was a manchild. Regardless, you found yourself heavily breathing, hugging his head like it was the last thing you’d ever do. His teeth lightly nibbled, making you jump a little. Now biting onto it, you squealed.   He glanced up, before going back down, licking the sensitive bud. You felt a rush near your lower regions, a familiar warmth rushed to your cheeks.   “S-Satoru! I think I’m gonna-!”   You weren’t even going to finish the sentence, the white, hot liquid pooling out of you as soon as you uttered a few words. Gojo’s attention was now focused on you, before looking down.   “Woah, lil girl. That’s a large mess. I didn’t know your pussy needed any attention.” he directed his gaze towards your pussy, spreading the folds and softly examined it.   “How pretty.” he muttered, he flicked his thumb on your clit, making you moan loudly.   “FUCK!” you threw a hand over your mouth, he laughed, his breath tickling you.    “You’re really wet.”   Without any warning before hand, he dove in between your legs, beginning to noisily slurp at your folds, dipping his tongue into your entrance.   You began to practically scream louder, you were fuzzy, your body, your mind, everything. Unable to cover your moans, you began to grimace at the stares your neighbors would give you when you went out for the mail. Gojo would laugh, telling you that, “He was just trying to show the world you were his.” and not pay any mind, cursing him for being so skilled, you struggled to contain all the noises you were making.   You felt his tongue tease your entrance playfully, flicking your clit a few times for extra measure, you were now wildly thrashing, and you knew Gojo couldn’t wait to ridicule you over dinner.   About to straight up shove his head closer into you, his tongue finally stuck inside of you. Letting out a sigh of relief mixed with added pleasure, he skillfully lapped at your juices. Noisily slurping away at you, he glanced up.    You were trying to sit up, but were struggling as you did so. The waves of pleasure sent you crashing back down onto the table.   You felt him exhale through his nose, tickling you once again. He closed the little space between you and his face, as soon as he was in contact with your skin, you wrapped your legs around his back, trying to close the distance that wasn’t there.   Now, his tongue was reaching you in places you’d never think he would. Flush, hot skin was sweating against the table surface, but you paid no mind, promising yourself to wipe the top later. Hair strands practically glued to the sides of your head due to the sweat, you whined again, feeling yourself close to cumming.   You were about to speak again, warning Gojo, but you couldn’t. Before the words could even spill out of your mouth, you felt yourself burst.   Gojo, seemingly unaware, was still lapping at your walls. You looked at him, breathing heavily. His eyes widened, and you felt him stop licking for a while, before you saw him gulp and stand back up.   His eyes twinkled a little in the light, and you straightened, sitting on the table, your heart still beating rapidly.   “You never told me you were gonna cum.”   You turned your head to the side, about to retort, before you realized the empty bowl of marshmallow fluff.   “Satoru! I told you to not use it all!” (resposting because i think im shadowbanned, please interact if u saw this!)

[fangirl-everythang]

You’re Not Leaving Me J.M

Summary: Y/n wants to leave Jason after he’s neglected her for gang duties. Long story short, she doesn’t. 

Warnings: Aggression, swearing, mentions of gang activities, toxic relationship-ish.

Word Count: A bit less than 1500

Today was the day. I want to leave Jason. We've been together for almost three years now and I can't take it anymore. I love him with all of my heart but he's never home. I'm alone in this relationship and he never notices.

I try to stay up to wait for him to come back from his missions but most nights but he just showers and goes to sleep. I get being The Jason McCann, worlds most wanted is hard, but I feel like I'm in a relationship with a brick wall and it's only hurting me. I know- selfish but it's for the best. He'll probably go back to his playboy days anyways.

Yup could you believe it? Jason used to be with a new girl every night, hell when we met we didn't even like eachother. One thing led to another and here we are,  young and madly in love. Wiping the tear that managed to escape my eye thinking about him. Sitting up because Jason will be home in half an hour give or take,  I can pack now.

I begin tearing the fabric from the hangers reminiscing the good days we had. Going through the drawers looking for my charger I stumble upon a picture of Jase and I. I'll never forget it; It was new year's eve and we were on the roof of Zayn and Lo's place. It was our first year together, we were happy. The photo shows us leaning in almost about to kiss with chaos and fireworks all around us, we did the camera just didn't capture it.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

That's everything.  I set my bags in the kitchen closest to the back door. Awaiting his a rival I just pace a bit while tiding up.

I've been so lonely without him, we barely talk anymore. I'm just there when he needs me. Before he treated me like a princess now I'm equal to his gang members. He's always working late or going out on weekends, I wish I, could, confirm his loyalty busy I have no fucking idea anymore. The ringing of keys at the door distracted me from my previous thoughts.

His face lit up when he saw me "Hey baby" he smiled. It took me by surprise, he hasn't called me baby or in fact any name but the one I was born with in forever. "Hi?" I respond questionly. He just wraps his arms around me and embraced me "I missed you babygirl"

"Are you feeling okay?" I say looking at him. Those eyes, those perfect fucking eyes. The ones that can make my heart flutter with one glance. He looks confused by my question and leans in for a kiss.

If I kiss him I won't want to leave. Christ why does he do this today!

I just doge it by pretending to cough, slowly removing myself from his embrace. "How was your -" "Hold that thought one minute baby I'm just gonna go change really quick I'll be right back"

"But Jase-"

"Right back. " he hurries up the stairs blowing me an air kiss. What the fuck is wrong with him? He suddenly wants to act like a boyfriend that gives a shit.

I waited 20 minutes for Jason to come down stairs, when he didn't I decided to go up. Slowly making my way up what used to be the beautiful steps of our home, I call out his name "Jase?" Reaching the bedroom door I knock but there wasn't a response. Just as I go to open the door it is aggressively pulled open with a not so happy Jason behind it. He's wearing the same clothes. "What happened I thought you were going to change-"

"Shut up" he says lowly.

"What the fuck Jase? "

I'm not scared of him, just his behavior sometimes.

"What the fuck, you tell me y/n," he says with a sinister chuckle. I just look at him confused "So you thought I wouldn't notice your shit missing y/n, what are you trying to do?" I stood there with my arms crossed "Well if you would've let me talk down stairs I would have informed you. "

"INFORM ME ABOUT WHAT Y/N?" He shouts coming closer.

"Jason I can't do this anymore, its, we're not the same" I sigh. He just gets even closer, the vein popping out from the side of his neck. I fidget a bit under his gaze. "So what?  you were just gonna leave? You fucking whore."

"Me a whore, really Jason?! You're unbearable " I yell back my voice straining as I do so. "You're the one who's never home, I don't see you anymore, "

I'm even more frustrated than before, "You know what this isn't worth my time. Good fucking bye Jason" I say turning around but he grabs my arm and yanks me back.

"You're not going anywhere."

"Jase get off of me" I say pulling away from him. His grip just tightens. He harshly pushes me against a wall causing me groan in pain and annoyance, he just looks me dead on the eye. "You're not leaving me. "

I stop fighting back and sigh "Why not? Huh Jase" He doesn't say anything. I just listen to his increased respiration and look at his eyes, they've dilated quite a bit.

"Oh now you wanna be quiet" I say pushing his chest moving past him. "You're pathetic" I spit walking away.

"Y/n wait" he says not turning. Stopping in my tracks I waited for him to continue but after a minute I began descending down the stairs. The memories this place holds will haunt me but I keep reminding myself I need to do this for me. I have too- but he makes me happy or used to at least.

Walking into the living room to pick up my phone, wallet, and keys that are on the table. Leaving Jason is like leaving a piece of me but it's time I make a decision for me, it's gonna hurt but it's for the best. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself.

Walking to the door grabbing my bags and heading out the door loading them into the back of my car. I go back in to make sure I didn't leave anything and Jason is just standing there looking at me. I shift uncomfortably under his gaze but ignore it. "There's food in the fridge and your clothes are done just put them up and u-uhh yeah." He just continues to give me the same blank look. " Jason I don't want us to end on bad terms we can st-" He just looks at me dumbly before I can finish. "Y/n you're really gonna pull that shit on me" I go to speak but he just continued " Three years y/n and you're gonna leave me now. I fucking love you and you're going to leave me. I don't know what to do with myself, I know I'm a shit boyfriend but this is new to me. I need you y/n. My life is not complete without you in it. You're my everything my reason to be here, you make me better in every way." He chokes holding back tears coming closer to me and embracing me , "I'm so sorry baby" he cries into my hair. I just hug him, he needs this. "I know" I coo running my hand through his hair gently letting him calm down. His warm tears flow onto my shirt, I haven't seen Jason break down like this before. He's never cried in front of me. I didn't realize that I was crying until he pulled away to wipe my tears with his thumb. He kisses my forehead and whispers "please don't leave me" I just shake my head "Jase I think th-his will be healthy for us" "Please y/n, I'll try harder , I'll control myself , I'll be better for you. I'll do anything for you y/n" he pleads "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry"

"Jason, I don't -" he interrupts my sentence by smashing his lips on mine. Grasping the back of his neck pulling him closer to me he moves down my neck leaving a trail of wet kisses until he finds my sweet spot. I'm so weak for him. "J-jason" i halfly moan, He just continues to suck and i know exactly what he's doing.

I just let him continue because he wont stop until he’s ready. Running my hands through his hair as he continues his asult on my neck marking me as his. Once he's done he looks to admire his deep purple and red piece of art lightly tracing it he smiles down at me, cupping my cheek. "You're mine, Okay. no one will ever love you like I love you." He softly presses his lips, to mine.

AN:

Hey guys hope you enjoyed it! I know its short,  they get longer I promise. I'm open to anything but im slow as hell. 

ANyways hope your holidays are well. I really think Jason McCann can be played out in so many ways, I cannot wait for you guys to read.

Xoxox-Janelle

[whumperooni]

pls imagine that after natsuo decided to get revenge and became a fuckboy he also gradually started to get farther away from his cutie of a lil sister! he brings home some bitchy bimbos to fuck and doesn't even notice her anymore so little sister being the adorable thing she is, she becomes very upset and sad that her brother doesn't want her anymore, so who is better to take care of her then papa enji! i want to see natsus face when he realises his plan backfired in the worst way possible!

What else is a little sister supposed to do whenever her nii-chan abandons her? u.u

tw: incest, fuckboy!Natsuo, mentions of drinking and drugs

It starts with one drunk girl that doesn’t make it out on time before Enji can see her. Usually, Natsuo doesn’t bring women home- it feels like something he shouldn’t do; he can’t bring anyone back to that place.

(Not that he hasn’t had any other woman since entwining with you- how could he when he has such an adoring little sister to love and cherish and make squeal with pleasure? Why would he want anyone else?)

But that night? That night he just doesn’t care. Drunken from too many shots and too much cheap beer, he crashes with the girl he had somehow stumbled home with and, in the morning, he fucks her again through their mutual hangovers before sending her off to never come back again.

There’s a twinge of shame and guilt when he passes you in the hallway on the way to show his hookup out. Your wide eyes and disappointment prick at him like tiny needles, the pucker of your brow has him regretful. Whenever he nudges his hookup out of the house and comes back to you, asks you where you slept last night, the mumbled “Shoto-nii’s room” makes him feel even more guilty.

You only sleep in your brother’s long empty room whenever you’re feeling particularly lonely. Natsuo hates when you feel lonely- you should never feel lonely with him around.

He opens his mouth to tell you that he’ll make breakfast for you, that he’ll make up for last night, but he’s cut off whenever a gruff voice comes from behind him and says,

“Don’t bring whores into my house.”

In an instant, Natsuo’s regret gets flipped to rage- just the sound of Enji’s voice makes him want to snap and having him insult his hookup makes it even worse- and he glares at his father- mouth opening to argue only to be ignored as Enji turns around and lumbers off to the kitchen. He barely registers your shocked “daddy” that you gasp out- he’s too focused on his father and the annoyance that had been written all over the man’s face.

Fuck him, Natsuo thinks. Fuck. Him.

His anger is only quelled whenever your hand lightly, nervously touches his and he looks back at you to see your worried expression. It takes a moment for him to calm- lips pressing together and a long, deep breath needed- but he does and he swallows back his anger, his headache to force a small smile your way.

“Have you had breakfast? I’ll make you something.”

A mumbled thank you, nii-san and your fingers lacing through his helps soothe the rest of the lingering irritation. Natsuo tugs you to the kitchen and he tries to forget his father’s face and the satisfaction that had flicked through his anger over it.

──────────────────────────────────────

He brings home another girl a month or two later. It’s not something he sets out to do, no.

But it happens. And the morning after is just about the same as the previous time- only with you more upset when you spot the hickeys all over the girl’s neck and Enji’s glare darker than before, his irritation more pronounced.

The third time is on purpose- something he seeks to do in a tipsy, vindictive rage after a particularly nasty argument with Enji.

He brings home another girl- someone dumb and sweet and just a little trashy- and he fucks her with the intention of making her scream for him, spending the night making her moans fill the estate.

You can’t look him in the eyes in the morning, but he feels no guilt- only satisfaction over the fury on Enji’s face and the way his hands clench and unclench from trying not to slug his son in front of his upset daughter.

Another nasty fight- one that you get caught in.

“-a goddamn disgrace. You think your sister needs to see this? How do you think this looks on me when you’re going around acting like a fool? I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you-”

“Daddy, please! It’s okay! Please don’t-”

“-I’m a disgrace?! That’s rich coming from you. You parade around acting like you’re so superior but all you are is-”

“Natsuo-nii! Please stop! Daddy doesn’t mean-”

“Don’t you turn this around on me, boy.”

In the end, Natsuo stomps off with red cheeks and gritted teeth- turning his back on his glaring father and his teary eyed little sister.

He stomps off and all he can think is I’ll show you a goddamn disgrace.

──────────────────────────────────────

Life for Natsuo quickly becomes a mess of clubs, hookups, hangovers, and arguments. With every girl he brings home, his father only gets more and more angry- fire bursting out in quick jets when he finds a pair of discarded panties on the lawn, some dumb slut eating at the table draped over his son’s lap, vodka bottles and condoms in the trash.

The fights get worse and worse. Natsuo starts staying away from home- only coming back to drag some girl home to rile his father up and to sometimes spend time with you whenever his guilt over your tears and upset becomes too much. He makes new friends with this new direction in life- crude boys he used to stay away from, men who fondle their girl’s tits right in front of everyone while talking about weed and parties and who has access to molly, who can get good coke.

They’re bad influences. He knows it. He knows.

But he doesn’t stay away from them. Soon enough he’s drawn into partying along with clubbing- weed and booze and more and more giggling sluts that want to ride his dick, suck him off.

One night he gets drunk enough to steal his father’s credit card and buy henny for everyone, weed and an obnoxiously expensive dinner, a solid gold chain that his flavor for the night talks him into buying despite Natsuo never wearing something like that before.

He doesn’t go home that night, but he ends up in someone’s penthouse and wakes up at four in the afternoon- classes missed and a whole block of time missing from his memory. It’s only when he checks his phone that he realizes what all has happened- snapchat showing him reeling and laughing, joking about his father’s money being blown.

It also shows him getting some sloppy head in some restroom he can’t remember. It shows him, too, that he had filmed a girl riding his dick- that he had spanked her ass and turned his phone around to show the world a drunken grin and bloodshot eyes, a gold chain around his neck.

Watching it is surreal. He knows that it’s him doing all those things, but he just can’t quite connect it at the same time. He’s never been into that stuff before- he’s never wanted to be into that stuff before. It makes something bitter and uneasy settle on his tongue, something uncomfortable weigh down his stomach.

He tries to ignore it and he checks the rest of his notifications- quickly swiping away Fuyumi’s worried texts and the messages on snapchat. There’s nothing from his father to be seen and that’s a relief that he pretends he doesn’t feel.

There is a little popup that sounds during his scrolling that shows that you’ve posted and Natsuo opens it almost absently, blinks whenever he sees a photo of a nice lunch captioned with Lunch with daddy💕

The daddy makes him scowl, but something in him twinges- guilt, a touch of sadness. He can’t remember the last time he talked to you, the last time he held you close. He used to be with you daily- hands holding yours, kisses pressed to your cheek and lips and forehead often, your cuddly body warming his late at night and holding him snug inside after a sweet ravishing. It’s been so long since he’s been with his little sister- it almost feels like that past affection had been a dream.

Guilt eats away at him and Natsuo runs his hand through his hair, buries his face into his palms after.

What have you been doing while he’s been fucking around? Sleeping in his bed because you miss him? Seeking comfort somewhere else- with someone else? Who has been taking care of you?

Your lunch post flashes through his mind and Natsuo feels sick then- knots twisting in his stomach whenever he thinks about who else you love in your life.

The last time he had been at home, you had clung to Enji- barely trying to break up the fight and sniffling through it, burying your face into your father’s chest.

You had clung to him then- are you clinging to him now?

Natsuo swallows and he stands from the bed, ignores the sleepy mumble that sounds off behind him.

It’s robotic how he dresses and drives home- sunglasses doing nothing to prevent a throbbing headache as he clenches the steering wheel and tries not to throw up last night’s indulgence all over his lap.

Getting home makes his stomach feel even worse, but he pushes it all down and forces himself to walk inside the house- mind racing as he tries to think of where you could be right now.

He finds out whenever he hears a loud gasp and a moan of “daddy.”

He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to see. His body and mind don’t connect, though, and his feet move automatically- one in front of the other until he’s in the doorway of the kitchen.

There’s flour on the floor from where it’s been knocked off the counter. Plates in the sink and magnets on the fridge he doesn’t remember ever seeing. A new mixer tucked away in the corner and daffodils in a vase on the windowsill.

And there’s you too- perched on the counter with your apron and the skirt of your sundress flipped up, mouth open with a cry, cheeks flushed pretty and sweet as Enji curls his thick fingers inside your cunny.

“D-Daddy! Please! More!”

“Shh; I’ve got you, little one.”

Bile rises in Natsuo’s throat as he watches you mewl and arch- hands reaching for your father and lips pressing against his needily whenever he gathers you in his arms and starts to slowly slip inside of you.

“L-love you, daddy,” you sob. “Love you- please- please don’t ever- don’t leave me...”

“I will never leave you, little one,” Enji promises gruffly as he spreads you apart and makes you whimper. “Never.”

Turquoise eyes flit to the side and Natsuo freezes in the doorway whenever they lock onto his - heart breaking and shame flooding through him in thick, hot waves when his sweet, sweet little sister who he loves and has neglected begins to mewl “daddy, daddy, daddy!”

Tears prick at Natsuo and he turns from the kitchen- walks away with a hand covering his mouth and his body bent forward as he struggles not to heave.

He drove you into Enji’s arms. He drove his sweet, beloved little sister into the arms of the man he hates the most. He neglected you for what- bimbos and booze and petty revenge?

God, he’s so fucking stupid.

Natsuo stumbles into the bathroom and he grips the sink tight- eyes wet and bloodshot whenever he looks in the mirror, face pale and neck mottled with hickeys, the stupid chain mocking him as it shines in the light of the bathroom. Far off, he can hear you moaning and Natsuo grits his teeth as he glares at himself in the mirror.

He really is a disgrace.

[littlestarofthewest]

*chants softly* Do it - write that modern AU uno fic that the fandom doesn't realise that they desperately need 👿😏😘

Remember this? This came up between Christmas and New Year’s 2019 xD And now I finally did it.

Pairing: Arthur x gn reader | Words: 2325 | Rating: mildly nsft | Tags: strip Uno (yes, you’re reading this right), modern AU

The party is in full swing around you, but you have no desire to join in. It's been a while since a new year made you hopeful, and all the happiness and well wishes for another promising year sound forced and wrong in your ears.

It's too loud, and it smells like alcohol and too many people in a small space. You can barely breathe, so you head along the corridor to the rooms that are off-limits to the other guests. You don't feel like crashing in John's and Abigail's bedroom, so you take the next room that's part office, part storage room. In the past, you sometimes crashed here for the night.

You close the door behind you with a sigh and are about to head for the couch, but then you spot someone sitting in front of it on the ground. He's hunched over a little and looks up when you stop dead in your tracks.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know somebody was in here."

"It's alright," the guy says, offering you a kind smile.

A little lamp next to the sofa throws a soft shadow on his face, and you recognize the beard and nice features. You've seen him many times in photos around the apartment.

"You're Arthur, right?" you ask. "John's friend slash brother?"

Arthur chuckles. "Yeah, I guess you could call me that."

"I'm Y/N, Abigail's friend."

Recognition shows in Arthur's face, and he nods. "Friend slash soul mate slash the only person who understands Abigail whenever John acts like … well, John."

"So you have heard of me."

"A little, here and there," Arthur says, "mostly good."

"Mostly?"

Arthur grins a little one-sided, and something warm rises up in your stomach. You always thought that Arthur was handsome based on the pictures. It's way worse in person.

"I didn't mean to crush your party-" you start, but Arthur interrupts you.

"It's alright. I understand the urge for some peace and quiet. Please stay."

"Thanks." You move closer and sit down on the ground, putting your first and only drink down on the table next to the lamp. "What you got there?"

"Uno cards, if you believe it," Arthur says, and you both look at each other and speak at the same time. "John."

Arthur laughs, and you take a sip from your drink, enjoying the view. You definitely prefer Arthur's company to all the fake happy people outside.

"You gonna shuffle those all night, or are you ready to lose?" you ask.

"Lose?" Arthur measures you with a raised brow. "Around here, nobody takes me on."

You wave your fingers at him. "Come on then. Deal."

Arthur shuffles the cards for real now before setting up the first game, and you try to figure out if you've ever had a stranger New Year's Eve. Sitting in a friend's apartment playing Uno with a stranger is not a plan you would have made.

About two minutes later, Arthur puts his last card on the pile. "See?" he teases, but you just shrug.

"Beginner's luck."

You go back and forth with dealing the cards, and although Arthur wins the first three games, you soon catch up, making you both even again.

"So, why are you in here?" you ask, sorting your cards.

"I only came because John and Abigail wanted to set me up, but she didn't show," Arthur says with a shrug. "Didn't feel like partying after that."

"That sucks. Did her plans change?"

"More her perspective, I guess," Arthur says, something defeated in his voice. "Saw my profile picture, and suddenly she changed her mind."

"Nah, that can't be it."

"Why not?"

"Because you're gorgeous."

"I- What?" Arthur stumbles.

"I'm telling you that you're a very attractive man," you say while watching your cards. "And Uno, by the way."

"Oh, well, thank you, I guess," Arthur says. He puts another card on the pile, his cheeks now sporting a red tinge. "You're very nice."

"Just honest. And I win."

You grin at Arthur as he collects the cards to shuffle again. "You really are a worthy foe. We should make this more interesting."

"What, like strip poker?" you joke and Arthur laughs.

"We only have Uno cards." He's about to deal, but then he looks at you with a mischievous spark in his eyes. "Although it doesn't make much difference, really."

You look at each other and there's a sudden tension as if both of you wait for the other to chicken out or laugh. You wish you could, but the idea of getting Arthur naked is too tempting, even if you might lose some of your clothes yourself.

"We should probably lock the door," you say as casually as you can.

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

You get up to lock the door, and when you come back, Arthur deals, both of you acting as if nothing changed, but you feel a constant wave of heat running up and down your body. Before, you didn't really care much for your cards, but now every move counts. 

Arthur's the first one to win, but the second he puts down the card, he looks like he'd rather take it back. "Look, you don't have to-"

You interrupt him by taking off one of your shoes. "You're just worried you're going to lose."

 "Fine, you're asking for it."

Arthur wins again, getting your second shoe, followed by you winning for the first time. Like you, Arthur loses his shoes first, and then you agree to count both socks as one item. That's how Arthur ends up shirtless pretty soon after. You tell yourself that a naked torso is really nothing special, but for some reason, you play your worst round.

"You seem to have a hard time concentrating," Arthur teases, and you hate that he actually noticed.

"Shut up," you grunt, focusing on the cards. Still, you can't help but peek at Arthur once in a while.

"How did you end up here then tonight?" Arthur asks.

"My ex is back in town and hung around in front of my apartment, so Abigail suggested I hang out here."

"Something to be concerned about?" Arthur asks, his voice making clear how he thinks about a stalker-y ex.

"It's not that bad, really. They're not dangerous or anything, just annoying," you explain. "It's probably just a desperate 'alone on New Year's Eve' thing. Like I'd do that again."

You roll your eyes, and Arthur chuckles. "One of those, huh? Just gotta wait them out then. And this is your shirt gone."

He puts down his last card, and you get to your feet. "I'll go with the pants first if you don't mind. I'm hot anyway."

"Suit yourself," Arthur says nonchalantly, but you can feel his eyes on you as you slide the fabric down your legs. 

Arthur looks away again when you sit, but your skin still prickles, and you wonder how much more of this you can take. Playing freaking Uno shouldn't be this hot.

Lucky for you, you get a good hand, and despite your lack of concentration, Arthur's the one who has to get rid of his pants next. You try your best not to stare at his junk but fail miserably. Suddenly you're very concerned about what could happen next. Arthur must think the same.

"Glad we locked the door," Arthur grunts, "I don't need strangers looking at my junk."

"I'm a stranger, too, aren't I?" 

"You called me gorgeous; you can do whatever you want," Arthur says.

You know he's joking, but that doesn't stop your brain from imagining things you could do to or with him. That very pleasing but also distracting train of thought loses you your shirt in the next round. Still, Arthur's the one who has to get rid of his underwear first.

This time, you have the decency to look away until he sits down again, and the red on Arthur's cheeks is back. 

"So, what now?" he asks. "Can't exactly take off more if I lose."

After what you just thought about, your brain seems to have lost all sensible ideas, and you blurt out the first thing on your mind. "Truth or dare."

Arthur chuckles. "Really? And next up is 'spin the bottle?'" 

"Hey, we're playing strip Uno," you huff, "you really want to get judgemental on me now?"

"Alright, alright, 'truth or dare' it is. Just deal."

You deal the cards with butterflies taking flight in your stomach. You don't even know what to ask or dare Arthur, but the alternative is to get naked yourself. Either way, you're in trouble.

The round goes on and on, both of you putting on more cards rather than losing them, but then the game turns in Arthur's favor until he forgets to say Uno. You have better luck then, finally winning the round. 

This time, it's you who tries to offer a way out. "Look, you don't have-"

"No, no, that's what we agreed on," Arthur says, waving his fingers at you. "Come on, ask."

"Alright, truth, or dare?"

Arthur studies you for a moment, his gaze so intense that a cold shiver runs down your spine. "Dare."

All kinds of stupid things run through your mind, but you don't want to make Arthur look foolish, especially in front of anybody else. You want to keep him all to yourself.

"I dare you not to move, no matter what."

Arthur raises his eyebrows in surprise but stays deliberately still. You take all your courage and crawl over to him, scattering the cards without a second thought. 

When you reach Arthur, you run your cheek along his one like a cat before placing soft kisses along his neck. You hear him take in a sharp breath, but he doesn't move. 

You look up to him, and he keeps still as you move closer, your lips hovering so close to his that you can feel his breath. It takes all your willpower not to kiss him, but you're still playing after all.

"Your turn," you say, looking right into Arthur's eyes. They're a nice shade of blue but with an almost golden circle in the middle.

"Truth or dare?" Arthur asks.

"Dare," you say way too fast.

Arthur's lip twitches into a smile, but he still doesn't move. "I dare you to come closer."

You crawl into Arthur's lap, very aware of the fact that only a tiny piece of fabric keeps you apart. With your arms around Arthur's neck, you make yourself comfortable, but your faces are still inches apart. 

"Truth or dare?" you ask.

"The truth is that I didn't say Uno on purpose," Arthur says. You believe him, which means that he wanted for this little game to start. 

"Trickery," you say, running your fingers through his hair, "how very naughty of you. I think that entitles me to dare you again."

"Sounds fair."

You move even closer, your fingers teasing Arthur's neck. "I dare you to touch me."

Arthur places his hands on your knees before running them up to your thighs. You get goosebumps all over your skin and can't help that you fidget a little. The friction takes its toll on Arthur. You can feel him pressing up against you while he runs his hands up along your body.

"Truth or dare?" he asks, his fingers dancing over your back.

"Truth. I want you to kiss me."

Arthur caresses your shoulders while he looks at you, his fingers climbing your neck in slow motion. The touch makes you shiver, but you stay right where you are, letting Arthur cup your face with his hands. Only when there's a barely-there pull, you move, finally closing the gap between you and Arthur.

You can't remember the last time someone kissed you this gently, and you melt against Arthur, promising yourself to stay in his lap for as long as you possibly can.

Arthur deepens the kiss, the taste, and warmth of him making you forget where you are until there's a harsh knock on the door.

"Hey, Y/N? You in there? It's me."

You feel like being doused with ice water, and your fingers dig harshly into Arthur's shoulders.

"Who's that?" he whispers, worry in his expression.

"My ex," you whisper back.

"Come on, let's talk," comes the voice from outside.

Arthur raises his eyebrows in question, and you immediately shake your head, so he tilts his head to face the door. "Do you mind? We're trying to hook up in here."

There's silence, and you bite your lip so you won't laugh. Sadly, your ex doesn't give up that easily. "Who is this?"

"It's Arthur; you might want to remember that name the next time you skulk around somebody's apartment."

It's silent again, then your ex clears their throat. "Just call me, okay? We can talk about this?"

You look at Arthur, slightly shaking your head, so you both stay quiet until you're sure your ex is gone. Arthur leans back with a sigh, resting his head against the couch. "That was not a turn on."

"I'm sorry," you say, running your fingers over his beard. "Like I said - annoying."

Arthur watches the ceiling for a bit before he takes your hands, threading your fingers together. "You know, I have an apartment, too. No exes hanging around that one."

You laugh. "Getting me naked here doesn't mean you can get me naked over there."

"I just borrow these cards, and we'll see what happens."

He kisses you again, and you have to admit to yourself that you'd rip your clothes off in an instant if he asked you to. You still act like you need to be persuaded. "Fine, you may take me there and try again. You might lose, though."

Arthur smiles. "I'll take that risk."

Getting dressed has never been such a thrill for you. Maybe the new year wasn't so bad after all.

[prosperdemeter2]

I'm currently 6,000 words into a Phlint fic that I am endlessly excited to share. See a teaser down below 😊

He met Phil on a Tuesday night which, objectively, wasn’t anything special. Tuesdays were free shows for those that had served in the Army so long as they had an ID and Clint had been working the front booth with Brienne. His suit was tight and purple (and yellow but Clint preferred to focus on the purple) and his hair was slicked back in the way that Carson insisted made him look professional and not like a twelve year old boy. 

Clint didn’t usually mind working the booth. He was a people person, he enjoyed seeing his audience before they were in the stands - he could tell, from the way their eyes flitted and settled on different tents and the way their hands toyed with a stack of bills, just what level of performer he would have to put on. 

Clint didn’t usually mind working the booth. Except he hadn’t slept much of anything the night before, his back was an array of bruises from falling from a roof when his foot had slipped during the job a few days earlier, and his left hearing aid was whining in a high pitched and annoying as all hell squeal just soft enough that he could, sometimes, forget it was even there. Phil hadn’t been anything special (which, really, was a joke if future Clint were to look back on the interaction). He hadn’t even come alone (Which would have set off alarm bells. No normal grown man came to a circus all by themselves on a Tuesday) but with a tall, scary looking woman with the most severe scowl Clint had ever had the misfortune of seeing. 

Perhaps they were from the city nearby - every now and then a tourist would catch wind of the show and come stumbling by to see them put on a show - or maybe they were one of the new age young folk that liked to move to small towns. Clint didn’t pay them much mind, not even when they handed over nearly identical, smooth faced military IDs. Clint didn’t even understand why they even asked to see the IDs - none of them knew how to identify a forged one but, he supposed, they were all working off the general assumption that, no matter how terrible of a person someone could be, no one would want to impersonate a veteran. 

He pressed himself flat against the wall of the booth, smiled his show smile just like he did in the ring, and said in time with Brienne - “Thank you for your service.” 

“What show are you in?” Clint saw his lips form the words but he didn’t hear them over the crowd, the music, or the whine in his left ear. 

He could have been asking Brienne but she nudged her foot back into his shin to let him know that he was the one being spoken to. Clint’s smile didn’t dare slip from his lips. “Big top at nine.” 

Occasionally, rarely, Carson’s got people that had come to see a specific performer. They’d have heard one thing or another about Brienne’s ability to read the future, about how Jonson could lift an entire riser full of people, about how the Yarnova twins performed exclusively without a safety net. They would come and they would oo and ahh and, usually, they would leave disappointed. Buck - Trickshot - had a better draw than most (Clint was pretty sure that was the only reason why Carson kept him on) and Duquesne was a crowd favorite. They had regulars that showed up every weekend just to watch them perform. 

Clint - the Amazing Hawkeye - had a draw that beat all of them out. 

It was uncomfortable, sometimes, to realize that, as far as the circus went, Clint was almost a celebrity. Carson had made him sit down for publicity photos when he was fifteen - just him, his bow, and a fake smile in the big top. He had paid good money for them and they were the only pictures Clint actually had of himself. 

He looked uneven. 

He didn’t like them. 

Phil - even though he wasn’t Phil then, wasn’t even Agent Coulson, or boss but, instead, was Nice Hair White Teeth - smiled and waved his ticket in the sticky night air. “I’ll see you there.” 

Clint saw his lips form the words and nodded once, sharply. “Enjoy the show.” Brienne kicked him again. “Sir.” He hastily tacked on and unclipped the red rope to let them in past their rather abysmal attempt at security. About ten people snuck in every show and Clint had counted seven so far that evening - kids that were sneaking out from home, adults that were just too dirt poor to pay. 

“You… go… ready… show....” Brienne filtered in and out, in and out. 

Clint shook his head as if he were to shake it hard enough it would simply dislodge the noise of the world wherever it got stuck.

It didn’t work. 

Brienne nodded significantly towards Duquesne’s tent, a line forming at the front and the older man frowning with that severe look that told Clint he was running late. “Shit.” He jumped up straight, realized he had spoken much louder than he meant to and rushed off before he could allow himself to feel guilty about it. 

Who were the people in line to pretend that they had never heard a swear before? 

Liars. 

[bts-hyperfixation]

Forget me not

It had been a long-awaited night out. Relaxing with your friends after finals sounded like a great plan, letting off steam before heading home for the summer. So why did it feel like someone was repeatedly punching you in the stomach. Of course, you knew that answer, even if you were loath to admit it. Park fucking Jimin.

You’d met the idol when you were a lowly college freshman, you’d been smitten with him then and as time went on and you’d gotten closer the infatuation had only gotten worse. Most of the time you managed to supress your crush, until you had the slightest bit of alcohol in you. And therein lies tonight’s problem. You knew it was a bad idea when he invited himself out to your celebratory drinks, but he has you wrapped around his little finger. Normally you came up with an excuse not to drink around him, finding just as much fun in his company anyway. Unfortunately, tonight there was no way out of it.

You watched from the bar as he dazzled the room. His eyes glittering in the disco lights as his hips swayed to the beat. One girl in particular had been the target of most of his attention for the night. The minute he finished two drinks he wandered off into the throngs of other drunk people without so much of a goodbye. She keeps touching him: a hand on his waist, a playfully hip check, an ‘accidental’ grind. It was vomit inducing to see her try. Even worse was the grin on Jimin’s face, indicating his mutual interest. You only had one option to make it through the rest of tonight, shots!

You lost count after six. The world was spinning far too much to be bothered with keeping track. Most of your friends had dispersed into the crowd… or maybe you’d just gotten lost on the way to the bathroom. It’s hard to tell as the whole night blurs into one. You stumble around for a little while, trying to catch your bearings, until you tumble into a very familiar feeling pair of arms.

“Easy Y/N. You okay?” You look up to find the beautiful source of your pain looking down at you concerned. Suddenly the urge to vomit is back. Luckily you manage to keep the bile in your throat, breathing deeply before trying to force what you hope is an easy smile.

“I’mmm gooodd” you slur in the least convincing way possible. He chuckles a little at your attempt and wraps an arm around you, supporting most of your weight. The two of you make your way to a taxi rank and he clambers in next to you. You lie your head on his shoulder and wait for the world to stop spinning behind your closed eyes, but it never does. The taxi doesn’t take long to arrive at your house.

“Do you need me to stay with you?” it’s not uncommon for you to have sleepovers, but usually its after long movie nights or dinners. The thought of him seeing you hungover was too much for you even in your current state of inebriation.

“No, I’ll be okay, pwomise” your words still aren’t particularly convincing but Jimin concedes. Instead settling for walking you to the door and making sure you get inside.

“Goodnight Y/N” He kisses your cheek and moves to walk back to the waiting taxi.

“Jimin?” you call after him. He turns back, expecting you to say goodnight. “What did you see in her?” your eyes have welled up with tears, but he just shrugs and sighs before getting into the taxi. You stare down the street long after the car has disappeared from view.

By the time morning comes, your head is pounding. Everything after the third shot is a complete blur. No event following stands out as its own incident. You swallow some paracetamol and check your phone, hoping to find some indication of who you might’ve upset in your drunken state. You breathe a sigh of relief when you find no angry texts or awkward photos. Going about your day it never occurs to you to text Jimin.

A few days pass and you haven’t heard from him. Sometimes it could get like this. If he was busy with shoots or interviews, but you left for home soon and he hadn’t even thought to contact you once. You had sent a couple, just checking in but got no response. Eventually you decided it’d be best to turn up at the dorm.

He opens the door to you in sweats and a tank. Messy haired and bleary eyed, he looked like he was in the middle of a day off… but if that wasn’t the case why hadn’t he messaged back.

“Hey.” Its stilted and awkward as he shuffles back to let you through the door.

“Is everything okay? It feels like your avoiding me.” He refuses to meet your eyes while you confront him, its then you see the dark circles under his usually bright eyes. You reach your hand up to cup his face, but he flinches like it burnt him.

“Why did you ask me that?”

“Ask you what? If your okay? Because I care…”

“Not that.” He spits suddenly angry. “Why did you ask me what I saw in the girl I was flirting with the other night? Why did you ask me like you cared?” your mouth flops open a little, confused by the sudden bout of anger.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Jimin! I don’t remember anything about that night!” your voice rises to match his, angry that he was angry.

“You always do this! Pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about every time you lead me on and I’m so sick of it!”

“I don’t know what you mean, I don’t lead you on!”

“You do! You make me think you might like me the same way I like you and then you ‘conveniently forget’ the next day.” He’s breathing heavy as he waits for you to process the new information, getting more and more agitated as he you fail to catch onto what he means. “Oh, for fuck’s sake” his lips attach to yours, pushing you back against the door as his hands cage you in. your mouth opens in a gasp and he slides his tongue in, exploring every inch as you begin to react. Relaxing your muscles and kissing him back. Your arms snake around his neck, grabbing at the hair at the nape, anything to bring him closer to you. His own hands travel down, lifting you by the thighs and into his arms. For such a lithe figure, he is definitely strong. Before you know it you’re being thrown onto his bed, scrambling for purchase as he climbs over you and reconnects your lips.

“Slow… down…” you pant in between kisses. He stops immediately and sits back, dejected. You panic when you realise what it sounds like. “No wait Jimin, I want to do this… I just think we should talk about what this means to both of us.” He nods slowly and helps you up into a sitting position. “I think I’m in love with you.” You hold your breath as his eyes search yours. You will yourself not to cry at the possibility of rejection, knowing you were risking it all with such a confession when all he felt could be lust. It feels like an eternity before he responds, kissing you again. This one much more chaste, creating butterfly in your stomach as you melt into him.

“I think I’m in love with you to.” His deep brown eyes sparkle with the revelation and you can’t help the wandering hand that goes up to play with is hair, tugging gently to force his lips back on your own. You keep your leverage as you kiss, directing his head where you want it. His hands trail down your sides to your waist, he fumbles with the button on your jeans. His fingers find their way into your panties. His middle finger drags along you wet slit before delving straight in. Unprepared, your grip on his hair tightens and he moans into your mouth. Nothing has ever sounded sexier to you. You tug again, eager to elicit the same sound. This time the moan is deeper as you pull harder and he forces two more fingers into your dripping hole.

No longer content with the amount of clothing still separating you, you release his hair, only to gain a whimper in return. His eyes meet yours, needy and sad, until you reach between the two of you to lift your hem. He removes his hand from your underwear before shedding his own clothes. When your finally naked he takes the opportunity to kiss every inch of you, worshipping you and making you shiver. Its not long until your begging for him. Desperate and whiny after years of build up to this one moment. Clearly, he feels the same way as he lines himself up with your entrance. He lets out a long whimper as he slides to the hilt, barely giving you time to adjust to the intrusion before pistoning his hips. Your hand sneaks to play with your clit as pressure builds inside your stomach. Nearly screaming by the time you come, the pleasure rolls through you in aftershocks with this unrelenting pace. Only when tears fall from your eyes does he stutter. Groaning as his own orgasm hits you.

“Tell me again” he whispers as he rolls next to you on the bed.

“Tell you what? This time your fairly certain you know what he wants but are set on teasing him. He meets your eyes with his sad expression and your resolves breaks immediately. You reach a hand into his hair and pull softly as you whisper back “I love you Park Jimin.”

Masterlist

Prompts WIP

[tiffdawg]

Two Halves | A Javier Peña x Reader Oneshot

Gif: @bestintheparsec​

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: T | Warnings: A dash of angst but only to make the fluff sweeter. Alcohol. 

Request: Part of the 500 Celebration! @jigglemiwa requested 49 (You’re the best part of me) or 42 (You keep that photo of us in your wallet?) from this list with Javier Peña. I thought these were great prompts so I used both! Thank you for the request – this was so much fun to write!

A/N: This is so soft y’all. I was blushing while I wrote it. 

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

… . …

Two Halves

It was like any other night after a long day of work. You were at the usual bar a few blocks away from the embassy apartment complex with a warming glass of tequila cradled between your hands. Javier sat next to you, his discarded jacket thrown over the back of his barstool, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and tie hanging loose around his neck. He looked as tired and disheveled as you felt.

It was a quiet evening, both in the bar where a few other patrons milled about, nursing drinks and chatting idly with whoever would listen, and between you and your partner. Or, former partner. That was what made that night unique: it was your last night together in Bogotá.

Now that the Cali Cartel had folded in on itself, the DEA’s presence in Colombia was downsizing and most attachés were transferring elsewhere. You had a lucrative offer for a position in Mexico. And yet, you were wavering as an inexplicable bout of indecision kept you from making a final call about your future. You’d thought that the last day of work would bring some sense of closure or light a fire under you that would make your decision easier. But it hadn’t. Even then, as you traced the rim of your glass, you couldn’t make up your mind. You were much too busy stealing glances at the man sitting next to you.

As for Javier Peña, his job was done, and he was going home. When he asked you to grab a drink with him that night, you’d expected he would be in a bit of a celebratory spirit. Instead, he was in one of his introspective moods, preferring to sit quietly next to you as he lost himself in his own mind. You doubted he’d ever admit it, but you knew he preferred to have someone by his side, even in moments like that. And if you were being honest with yourself, so did you – especially if it was him.

So, the two of you fell into an old, familiar silence broken only by a deep baritone crooning in Spanish that crackled softy through an old radio behind the bar. You weren’t paying close enough attention to make out the lyrics but if you had to guess, he was probably singing about love. They always were. 

Javier sighed at the last sip of tequila in his glass before downing it. As if he’d been waiting for his cue, the bartender appeared and asked if he wanted another round. Javier turned to you with a raised brow.

You finished off the last of your drink and set your empty glass next to his. You’d had a couple of drinks over as many hours. You could get away with one more. “Why not?” 

While the bartender made your drinks, you watched Javier as he leaned against the counter, head held in one hand as he traced the veins of the wood with the pad of his finger. He’d been contemplating something the entire night and had yet to work out a solution to his problem. And it weighed heavily on his mind. You couldn’t figure out what was bothering him so much. His job was over. That heavy burden he’d been carrying around for years had been lifted from his shoulders and he was free from the DEA. Even if he’d never said it out loud before, you knew that was what he wanted deep down. He should’ve been happy.

Just as you opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong, a pair of drinks were placed in front you. You thanked the bartender and pulled your glass toward you. As always, Javier reached for his wallet to pay the tab. And, as always, you tried to stop him.

“Javi, you don’t–” 

“I want to,” he insisted, cutting you off before you could protest, “It’s our last night out together, cariño.”

Your cheeks warmed at his favorite name for you. It never seemed to lose its effect on you. Of course, you would’ve preferred it if he meant its true sentiment. And while you didn’t want to admit to yourself that it was the last night you would spend with him, he was finally talking, so you tried to make light of the situation. “Can you believe that? That it’s all over?”

He only shook his head, his face pinching in a slight scowl, as he counted out the correct payment and a generous tip. As he sorted through his cash, something fell from between two crisp bills. You recognized it immediately: it was a photo strip from an old camera booth. The film was faded and bent, well-worn and maybe even well loved. As if It had been hidden away in his wallet for a while, but repeatedly handled. In fact, you could’ve guessed just how long he’d been carrying it around down to the day.

“You keep those photos of us in your wallet?” you asked, your voice not quite hiding your disbelief, as you gently picked up the photo strip. It was a lost memory from one drunken night out when the two of you were trying to unwind after a particularly bad day. In each of the two frames, the two of you were grinning. First, happily at the camera – or, at least, in the general direction of the camera – and then at each other. 

“I just– I like to look at it sometimes. When, you know–” Javier stumbled, clearly caught off guard. “It’s stupid.” 

“No, it’s not,” you assured. You tore your eyes from your smiling faces in the photos to look at him, silently pleading for him to continue with a careful hand on his arm.

He faltered for a moment, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally spoke. “It helps when you’re not around. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you keeping me in line all the time. Sometimes I look at you and I– I know what I need to do.” He finally looked at you, his dark eyes shining with some new emotion. “You make me want to be better. Hell, you’re the best part of me.” 

“Javi,” you sighed as you blinked away the unwanted tears blurring your vision. 

“I know I shouldn’t say that–”

“No. No, you don’t understand.” The two of you regarded each other for a drawn-out breath. He watched you carefully, waiting for you to explain, as you racked your brain for the right words. Coming up short, you swallowed hard and tried a different approach. “Can I show you something?”

His brows furrowed adorably at you and you resisted the urge to laugh. Reaching for your purse, you took your own wallet and shuffled through the crumpled bills until you found what you were searching for.

You gingerly set the last two frames of the photo strip on the counter, aligning the torn edge perfectly with Javier’s photos to complete the picture. “I like to keep you close too,” you said softly. “Sometimes I– I need you.” 

Javier’s expression shifted into some mix of shock and awe that looked rather foreign on him as he considered your statement and the completed photo strip laid out before him. In the back of your mind, you’d always wondered if the torn edge on yours matched with a second set of photos. Together, the four frames told the story of one stolen moment as it unfolded between the two of you. In an almost reverent gesture, he picked up your half and ran his thumb over the last frame. It was a blurry black and white photo of him cradling your face as he pressed his lips to yours.

“I kissed you?” he asked breathlessly.

“Apparently,” you said with a nervous laugh that was more of a sigh. “Don’t feel bad. We’d had a few too many that night. I don’t remember it either.”

“I wish I did,” he mumbled. When he faced you again, he almost looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared,” you answered with a shrug. “I didn’t know if you remembered. And if you did, you never said anything about it, so I thought you might’ve wanted to forget.”

“Cariño, I don’t think you understand,” he sighed, running a hand over his mouth as he placed your half under his again before turning his body toward yours. “I’ve been sitting here all night trying to figure out how to tell you that I love you.”

The chill that ran down your spine was followed by the sweetest warmth spreading from your chest throughout your body. And the tiniest oh escaped past your parted lips at his confession. “I think you just did.”

“I guess so,” he beamed as a look of relief washed over him. “I love you,” he said easily.

“I love you too, Javier,” you promised, finally speaking those words aloud to him you’d felt in your heart for so long.

You both moved at the same instant, leaning in to crash your lips together in a long-awaited second kiss. One neither of you would forget. As his hands cupped your face to hold you near, your lips came together and pulled apart again and again, you smiled into his kiss at the thought that the two of you must’ve looked just as you did in that photo you cherished so much.

“What?” he asked, leaning away just enough to look at you.

“Nothing. I’m just really happy,” you said wetly. You’d wanted that – wanted him – for so long. You’d all but resigned yourself to the idea that the photo of a kiss you didn’t remember was the closest you’d ever get to the real thing. But the real thing was so much better than you ever could’ve imagined. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

“I know what you mean.” When he spoke next, his tone shifted to something more serious. “Wherever you go next, I’ll follow.” Javier knew about your job offer. You’d attempted to solicit his advice about it on numerous occasions. Only then did his reluctance to help you make sense. “I just want to be with you, mi amor.”

You knew he was sincere. You heard it in his steady voice. Saw it in his determined eyes. And felt it in your heart. There would be no separating the two of you now. As you took in the tired lines of his handsome face, you knew exactly what you wanted the future to look like for the both of you. All of your doubt and indecision faded away as you finally allowed yourself to ask for what you wanted most. 

“I want out,” you admitted with an exhausted exhalation. “I don’t want to go to Mexico or anywhere else they might try to send me. I want to go home, Javi. I want to go home with you.”

Without another word, he picked up the two halves of the photo strip and tucked them both safely in his wallet. For some reason, you doubted you would get yours back. Then he stood and held out a hand to you. “Let’s get out of here.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you teased, rolling your eyes even as you slipped your hand into his.

“I know what you meant,” he scoffed as he led you out of the bar and toward. “We have plans to make. Together.”

“I like the sound of that,” you said around a smile as you leaned into his side.

“Although,” Javier drawled as he stopped walking and pulled you into him with two strong hands on your hips, “We definitely need to make up for lost time.” He nuzzled his nose against yours before capturing your bottom lip between his plush ones. It was a kiss so soft and slow it made you dizzy. He was intoxicating in a whole new way. Better than the finest alcohol. And you’d happily drink him in as long as you could.

“I think we can multitask,” you quipped, in between heated kisses. He hummed his agreement but made no move to part from you. The two of you stayed like that for a long time, kissing under the golden beam of a streetlight on a quiet road in Bogotá. It would’ve made for a lovely photograph.

In the end, you never got your half of the photo back from him. But it didn’t matter. Years later, that photo strip sat framed on the nightstand next to your shared bed with a single piece of clear tape forever mending the two halves.

... . ...

Thank you for reading!

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin

[kitkatd7]

Broken Hearts and Whiskey

Summary: Bucky’s not the same anymore. He doesn’t spend time with you at all, or keep his promises. And your done with it.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, lots of angst, drinking, my grammar errors because I didn’t fully edit

Dialogue Prompt #19. “Please! You have to let me make this right.” 

Dialogue Prompt #7: "I can't keep being your second choice, not when you're my first." 

(Prompts will be in bold)

Word Count: 1,654

A/N: This is for @imma-new-soul‘s 550 Follower Writing Challenge and @buckys-other-punk 500 Writing Challenge!! I hope y’all like it! Sorry it’s pretty sad and the ending isn’t as good as it could be :( Also this was inspired by the songs ‘Die From a Broken Heart by Maddie & Tae and Different For Girls by Dierks Bentley' Also there are a few Criminal Minds references in here😂

Masterlinst of Masterlists || Marvel Masterist || Series Masterist || part 2 

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

“See you later!” You call over your shoulder at Natasha and Wanda as you unlock the door to your apartment, coming home from a very successful shopping spree. Walking into your home you toe-off your shoes at the door, setting down your keys and purse. “Babe, I’m home!” You sing, excited to finally get some time with Bucky after him being gone on a mission for three weeks. “Babe?” You ask, walking into the kitchen, setting down your multiple shopping bags and taking in the empty space. Where the hell is he? After searching the bedroom, living room, even the bathroom and still coming up empty, you look to see if you missed any calls. Nope. He was supposed to be here you fume inwardly as you press the speed dial photo; both of you together at a carnival, you smiling brightly as he places a kiss on your cheek sweetly.

It goes straight to voicemail. 5 times. Now you're not even mad… just disappointed in him. He promised. On try number 6 you’re just done. “Hey, it’s me. Listen, so I don’t know where you are but- just don’t bother coming home tonight, okay? I had plans but- never mind, it doesn’t matter that much. I’ll see you later.”  Pressing the red button you throw your phone on the couch before changing into something more comfortable. It wouldn’t be so frustrating that he wasn’t here if it was a one time thing- But this is the fifth time he hasn’t come home to spend time with you after a mission.

Plopping on the couch, you press start on something mindless that you aren’t going to watch anyway before checking your phone for- well. really anything.

1 new message

Unlocking your phone quickly, you open it in high hopes, only to see Sam’s name appear and your face falls. 

Sam: Bucky said you tried to call. Is it important?

You: No… just we had plans.

You confide, knowing Sam will understand.

Sam: Oh shit. Okay, want me to tell him to come home?

You: No. It’s fine.

Sighing, you toss your phone on the other end of the couch, throwing your head back in newfound anger. Asshole. He saw your calls and didn’t even pick up the damn phone. After a year of dating, you at least deserved that. 

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

“Hey this is y/n, I can’t come to the phone right now cuz I’m out livin’ my life! Leave it at the beep.” He hears your all too familiar voicemail through the speaker. He had helped you come up with it, you hadn’t known what to put on it. He kicks himself, knowing you weren’t actually out living your life, just dodging his calls. Not that he blamed you- He deserved it and he knew it. Calling again, he’s not surprised when he hears your voicemail again.

“Hey… Um, listen, I know I was supposed to be at your place after the mission… I just wanted to unwind with the guys and- Shit. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think you would mind that much, I’ll be over in a bit to make it up to you, okay?” He leaves the message and ends the call before starting his car and driving towards your apartment, guilt heavy in his stomach.

You listen to his voicemail over and over, a strange mix of rage and sorrow weighing on your heart.

Tears roll slowly down your cheeks silently as you lay curled up in a defensive ball on your bed, trying to block out the unmistakable sound of Bucky begging you to open the front door; “Babe, please open the door,” He says, fist resting gently against the frame. “I’m sorry- really, really sorry. Please let me in and we can talk about it,” He sighs, resting his head against the door in defeat. He could break the lock and go in. You both know that. But he wouldn’t do that to you- All that would do is make you fear him and that’s the last thing he wants. He slides his back down the wall til he’s sitting on the floor next to your door, his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair; Tears gathering in his lashes. He really messed up this time.

----------

The next day you drag yourself out of bed, trying to forget last night and all the tears you shed. After a shower and breakfast, you head out the door for a coffee run before work. You stop in your tracks when you see Bucky still sitting there, eyes red from lack of sleep and regret written all over his face. He jumps up when you walk out, keys in hand, the door closing behind you. “What are you doing here?” 

“I- I came to apologize,” he murmurs, looking in your eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you bite, moving to step around him but stopping when he steps to block your path.

“Bucky, I’m going to be late for work,” you say coldly, glaring at him. “Move out of the way.”

“Please doll, just let me expla-”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “I understand perfectly, James.” You watch as he flinches a little at the use of his first name. You only use it when your really mad or really happy, and it isn’t the latter right now. “You were too busy with your beer buddies to come see your girlfriend after being gone for three weeks, but what’s new? It’s been like this for months. I guess it was naive of me to expect something else this time.” You shoulder past him as he stares at you; dumbfounded. Tears gather in your eyes as you make your way to your car in the rain. Your almost there when you feel a large hand on your arm and hear your name being whispered. You turn around and look up into his stormy eyes. You always loved his eyes- They’re always so bright and big and- Now is not the time to be thinking about his stupidly gorgeous eyes.

“Please! You have to let me make this right,” he whispers, tears forming in his eyes as well, mixing with the raindrops rolling down his face and dampening is hair. 

“Bucky���” You sigh, pulling your arm out of his grasp gently. “I don’t think you can fix this. I can't keep being your second choice, not when you're my first." You climb into your car as he stares at you as you pull out of the parking lot. He sinks to the ground on his knees, not caring that his clothes are practically soaked, or that someone might think he looks crazy. None of that matters- because your gone. His girl. Gone. He can’t breathe. The pressure weighs heavy in lungs as all the air is pushed from them and his heart shatters. It’s all he can do to draw a ragged breathe between sobs.

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

You manage to hold yourself together until you pull into the starbucks parking lot. And then you totally loose it; Tears and mascara mix together and run down your cheeks as you sob into your steering wheel. It feels like your heart is being torn out of your chest. Bucky was the best thing that ever happened to you… and deep down you had feared something like this would happen, but you didn’t think it actually would. You loved him- And now he was gone. 

You trek into Walmart, heading straight for the junk food isle, not caring that you look like an absolute mess. Grabbing some much needed chocolate, chips, cookies and other coping foods, you check out, starting to cry again when the cashier gives you a pitiful look on your way out. 

Stumbling into your apartment, you throw your bags on the kitchen counter before grabbing your desired snacks and tossing them on your bed. You pull on sweatpants and one of Bucky’s hoodies, sending an ache of longing through your chest. Even changing clothes feels like more effort than you could possibly muster but you somehow manage before crawling into bed and turning on reruns of Friends before you start crying again. After 2 bags of chocolate, a bag of Doritos, a burger and french fries you grabbed on the way home, you still feel like absolute shit. Maybe this is just how it will be- Unable to get over him, unable to move on. Eventually you fall asleep from exhaustion, tear stains and left-over makeup on your face and Bucky’s pillow clutched against your chest. 

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

Bucky ambles into the bar, sliding onto a stool with sullen eyes, ordering a shot of vodka before mumbling “Keep em coming.” 

Throwing his head back, he grimaces as the bitter liquid burns its way down his throat. He knows he can’t get drunk but he’s willing to try. Anything to stop feeling like this.

The old barkeep leans on the bar behind him, looking at Bucky with an evaluating stare. 

“What was her name?” He questions gently after a moment of silence.

“Wha- How did you know?” Bucky looks up in surprise and pain, his forearms resting on the bar, holding another shot.

“Son, you can’t hide the look of love gone wrong.”

Tossing back another, Bucky looks in the shot glass like it holds all the answers before whispering your name, his voice breaking. “Did you ever love someone?” He asks brokenly.

The older man chuckles lightly at this. “I did, still do.” He holds up his left hand as proof.  “Do you wanna know the secret to love?” He asks, stepping closer.

“Why not, it’s not like I could lose anything else,” Bucky says dryly, taking yet another shot.

“Sometimes love doesn’t last and you have to let it go… but sometimes you have to fight for it. And it’s up to you to decide which you’re gonna do. So which is it?”

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

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[moldisgoodforyou]

Sophie drunk at an ugly Christmas sweater party with rafe ??

yes love this! warnings: drinking, brief nudity, v fluffy 

wordcount: 2k

_ 

After a little bit of convincing, Sophie brought Rafe to her sorority’s annual Drink The Tree party. Drink The Tree consisted of buying shooters at the liquor store and placing them in a Christmas tree at a senior house, then taking a random shot on every half hour. After the first couple hours, this usually descended into madness and the regulated shot consumption rules went out the window. 

“I still don’t think seven shots are necessary, Sophie.” Rafe frowned skeptically, watching as she struggled to hold them all in her fists on their walk to the party just so she didn’t have to bring a purse. “It might not be, but the freshman always show up empty-handed, so I���m just compensating.” She countered, almost dropping and shattering a few on the icy sidewalk. He caught them quickly and took a handful from her easily, shaking his head. “You worry me sometimes.” 

“That’s not my fault you worry too often.” Sophie grinned at him, bumping her shoulder against his. He rolled his eyes and smiled back, fond. “How long is it gonna take you til you grab my jacket?” She wore a cropped Christmas sweater, a corduroy skirt, and thin tights, and bit her lip to keep her teeth from chattering on the short walk, refusing a jacket from Rafe. “Well if I’m drinking right, I should be fine, yeah?”  

“Twenty minutes.” He wagered. 

She raised her eyebrows. “Is this a bet?” 

“Yeah. If you take my jacket before that, you have to pace yourself on drinking.” He regretted the words the second her lips set in a smug smirk, knowing immediately he was going to lose. 

“Deal. If I don’t you have to take care of me.” Sophie grinned, stopping at the crosswalk and reaching up on her toes to kiss his cheek. He laughed and ruffled her hair affectionately. “We both know I was already gonna do that.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re whipped.” She beamed. “I can’t wait to see Colin’s reaction to your outfit.” Colin was invited to the party by another Theta and had taken the girl out for dinner beforehand, eager to impress. Rafe was sorely unprepared and had to wear an ugly Christmas sweater that Sophie had in the back of her closet from an ex that was about five inches shorter than Rafe, and she had accidentally shrunk it in the wash. The result was her 6′3″ boyfriend practically wearing a crop top, which he complained about the entire time she got ready. 

“Yeah, I’m still not happy about this.” He grumbled, doing his best not to raise his arms and show more than the already exposed two inches of skin. “I promise I won’t take photos.” She laughed as they came up to the house, the party already spilling out onto the front porch. “Ready?” 

“Sure you’re not cold?” Rafe raised his eyebrows in a challenge, noticing the goosebumps on her legs. “Positive. You’re not winning this.” She grinned and led him inside, greeting a few people as they made their way to the tree and arranged the shooters on the branches. Rafe cursed under his breath as he heard an unmistakably familiar snort from behind him. He turned to see Colin grinning, two cups in hand. “That’s a look, Cameron.” 

“Yeah, well, someone didn’t prepare me in advance to go buy a sweater that fit.” Rafe scowled. Sophie laughed and poked Rafe’s exposed hip. “I think he should wear crop tops more often, don’t you, Colin?” Colin chuckled and handed them each a cup full of spiked hot chocolate. “Absolutely. Heard they’re in fashion now, might have to join the trend. Sophie, what shots did you bring?” 

“Ah.” She pointed to a section of the tree, grinning. “The Malibu.” 

Colin scowled at the same time as Rafe shuddered. “You have terrible taste. We need to get you drinking whiskey sours.” 

“Believe me, I’ve tried.” Rafe lamented, shaking his head. Sophie grinned. “Just because you can’t handle Malibu -” 

“That was one time, Sophie -” 

“You were practically stripping at the party, Rafe -”

As their casual conversation quickly delved into argument, Colin just laughed and walked away, leaving them to fight it out. Rafe only noticed after a moment, shaking his head. “Hey, truce.” 

“Truce.” She agreed easily, having learned to choose her battles after a while. Sophie pulled two shooters off the tree, handing him one. “Top of the hour, drink up.” 

“Fine, but I’m not drinking your shitty alcohol.” 

“This is all shitty alcohol, baby, welcome to college.” She teased, clinking the neck of the little bottle against his before knocking it back. They both washed it down with the spiked hot chocolate and Sophie shivered, already feeling the effects taking place. Rafe grinned at her knowingly. “Lightweight.” 

“Who, me? Never.” She grinned back and gave him a short kiss, then took his hand. “C’mon, let’s go find a game to play.” 

As she got more and more drunker, she became touchier throughout the night, way unusual for her - though Rafe couldn’t say he wasn’t a fan. Sophie had her arm possessively wrapped around his waist by the end of the night, resting her head on his shoulder several times. She was clearly trying her hardest to stay awake, blinking quickly every time someone tried catching her attention. He wasn’t sober himself, but was just enough to recognize her telltale drunkenness.  

“Ready to go home, angel?” He murmured into her ear, nudging her upright. 

“Soft.” She accused, just leaning into him again. He stepped away and placed both hands on her shoulders to keep her up, thumbs kneading her muscles for a moment. “Stay awake long enough for me to get you home. Five minute walk, that’s all.” 

“You don’t have enough to shell out for an Uber?” She teased, knowing damn well it wasn’t worth the wait and the hassle. 

“No, dating you is draining my bank account.” He grinned and kissed her forehead. “C’mon, if we leave now, I promise I’ll rub your back before we go to sleep.” 

That was enough to convince her, and after a few goodbyes, they made their way back to Sophie’s sorority house. Rafe took one look at the fire escape - his usual method up to her room - and crouched down. “C’mon.” 

“Huh?” 

“On my back. I don’t trust you not to trip up these.” 

She grinned and got on his back with only a moment’s struggle, loosely wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re so strong.” She mumbled dreamily, pressing her lips against his temple at an awkward angle. 

“Shh, Soph, gonna get us caught. I’m not allowed up here, remember?” He whispered back, being extra careful up the slick steps coated with snow. Once they made it up, she started squirming. “Let me down, I can walk.” 

“Yeah? Prove it.” He punched in the code to the door on the upper deck and ushered her inside, snorting when she tripped over her boots almost immediately. She scowled, flipping him off over her shoulder and continued her way down the hall, stumbling into the wall as she went. They were quiet until they made it into her empty room and she flopped onto her bed immediately, letting out a huge sigh. “Shoes.” 

He nodded and took her shoes off for her, placing them neatly in her closet. “C’mon, you gonna take your makeup off? You have to go brush your teeth too.” 

“Come with me.” She sat up, reaching out for him. 

“Can’t, baby, you know that. Don’t want you in trouble.” He tugged gently on her hands, trying to get her off the bed even though she stayed limp, being dragged by him. “Come on, Soph, work with me.” 

She leaned forward just enough to tip her forehead into his chest, content there. “Fine, but you gotta brush my hair out.” 

“After. Promise.” He lifted her up and set her upright, giving her a little nudge. “Go, I’ll be waiting right here.”  

“Fiiiiiiine.” She whined, leaving the room and letting the door slam shut carelessly behind her. Rafe winced and changed while she was gone, pulling on some sweats from the section of her closet that was now reserved for his stays. Sophie returned moments later and promptly handed him her hairbrush, turning expectantly. He shook his head. “PJs first. No sleeping in a skirt and tights.” 

“I’ll just sleep naked.” She raised her eyebrows in challenge. 

He snorted. “You hate that, and it’s 28 degrees outside. You gonna do it or am I gonna have to?” 

She paused, considering her options, a slow smirk forming. 

“Not what I meant - oh, c’mon.” His tone was exasperated but fond anyways as he made quick work of unbuttoning her sweater and tugging it off, then stopped in his tracks, staring directly at her chest. “You weren’t wearing a bra this whole night?” 

“You couldn’t tell?” She grinned, taking it upon herself to step out of her skirt and tug off her tights til she was just left standing in her underwear. “Hey.” She snapped in his face, bringing him out of his reverie. “Fetch me clothes, handsome.” 

He shook his head quickly, mumbling a curse word under his breath as he pulled out one of his shirts left behind and pajama pants for her. “Arms up.” 

“You just wanna see my boobs more.” She accused, pausing before obliging. 

“You just stripped in front of me, clearly you don’t have qualms about it.” He quipped back, taking a moment to palm her breast and run his thumb across her nipple as he tugged it on over her head. She made a show out of moaning obnoxiously loud and he grinned, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Sophie, shh.” 

“You like my moans.” She retorted, stepping into her pj pants. 

“Yeah, but you don’t sound like that. That sounded like a pornstar.” 

“How do you know what a pornstar sounds like?” 

“Dunno, where’d you learn to moan like that?” He shot back, teasing all the way. 

She blushed, grinning. “I didn’t forget about my hair. Can you braid it too?” 

“Course I can.” He made her sit on the edge of the bed before brushing carefully through her hair, then made a quick, practiced braid for her. She almost fell asleep at his touch, leaning closer and closer into his hands. Once he tied it off, he crawled into bed next to her, cuddling close for warmth. “What’s gotten into you? You were all touchy tonight.” 

She frowned. “Thought you liked when I held your hand at parties.” 

“No, no, I do.” He quickly backtracked, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Just not usually like you. You don’t really do PDA.” 

“But you like it.” She countered, cuddling closer into his chest til he wrapped his arm around her. 

“Yeah. I do.” He paused, wondering how much of the night she’d remember in the morning. “I like people knowing that you’re my girl. Showing you off.” 

“Everyone knows we’re dating, Rafe. Don’t worry.” She murmured, tracing patterns on his chest. 

“I know, just. I liked it tonight. Had fun. Thank you for inviting me.” 

Unspoken words hung in the air between them for a moment, ‘til Sophie lifted her head to meet his eyes. “You’re my favorite, you know.” 

“You’re my favorite too.” He kissed her sweetly, smiling. “Sleep tight, Soph.” 

“Sleep tight.” She murmured back before falling asleep. 

[wondersofdreaming]

Free Bird

Characters: Henry Cavill x female reader

Word count: 1.552

Warnings: Neglect. Hurt. Anger-ish. Sadness. Regret.

Author’s note: Originally a request for @littlefreya​, who asked if I wanted to write it. This is what I could come up with.

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

Tag: @katerka88​ @littlefreya​ @hell1129-blog​ @mitzwinchester​ @mary-ann84​ @valkavill​ @sciapod​ @henry-cavlll​ @luclittlepond​ @iloveyouyen​ @trippedmetaldetector​ @radaofrivia​ @omgkatinka​ @gothwhopper​ @fcgrizi​ @alyxkbrl​ @singeramg​ @onlyhenrys​ @henrythickcavill​ @madbaddic7ed​ @palaiasaurus64​ @queenslandlover-93​ @magdelen69​ @shellbilee​ @mis-lil-red @vania-marie

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list.

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

Your relationship had started out as romantic and wonderful, as most relationships did. He would send you flowers, chocolates, take you out for dinners, movies. After months of dating and being given a lot of attention, he gave you a key to his house. He asked you to come and go as you pleased, hoping you would eventually move permanently in with him. You were elated. To begin with, you left a spare toothbrush and some clothes, but you never needed those as you always wore his. Little by little did you move your things into his house and rented your place out through Airbnb.

Months passed with the two of you being like two peas in a pod. Love was blooming between you, and he was even thinking of proposing. His dog loved you, his family adored you, his friends were ecstatic to have you in their group.

Then he got that job, and everything changed.

At first, he called every single day while he was out of the country during the pre-production. You would video-chat at night before bed, just because he missed you so much and couldn’t sleep without hearing your voice or seeing your beautiful smile.

“I miss you, sweetheart,” he would whisper while you both lay in bed with the computer next to you. His face illuminated by the blueish light from the screen.

“I miss you too.”

You had planned to visit him on set, but your boss had squashed those plans. You had been burdened with a mountain of work, and not even the saved-up vacation days could save you. So, you stayed back to work. Disappointed.

The phone calls and video chats became further and further apart. Henry would tell you that he was too tired, that it had been a long day, that he had an early morning. The excuses kept piling up.

You didn’t mind it at first. You understood that his job came first, it was his dream. One day everything had gone bad. You had slept through your alarm, you had stumbled through the house, stubbed your toes, scraped your knees, and banged your head. You missed the train and had to run from the station to your office, barely making it on time. You had forgotten to charge your phone, so when you turned it on back home, you had missed a call from Henry. He had left a voice message saying that he couldn’t make the call that night, but he would call again the next day. Ending the voice mail with an ‘I miss you’, not his usual ‘I love you’.

You tried not to cry but ended up wailing and sobbing yourself to sleep in his large blue hoodie with the rose print on the front.

The next morning you felt a little bit better. After you had taken a quick shower you saw that it was about time for his mid-morning break, so you decided to call.

“Henry Cavill’s phone, how may I help you?” A female voice answered.

“Oh… Ehm… Hi, I’m his girlfriend, may I speak to Henry?”

“I’m sorry, you just missed him. He’s gone back to filming; can I pass a message to him?”

“Oh… No, no thank you. I’ll just wait for him to call back.”

But he didn’t. He forgot. He called the day after, telling you he fell asleep. He didn’t even apologize as he had to get back to work. He promised to call that evening, but you asked him not too if he was too busy. He said he wanted to. So, you waited, and waited, and waited some more before falling asleep with a saddened heart.

He stopped making an effort to call or chat, or anything after that. You didn’t do anything on your end as well, as work was keeping you too busy to miss him, except for when you stayed at his house, there you were reminded of him everywhere. Your heart broke every time you stepped through the door.

You ended up sleeping in your own flat for a time. You told yourself it was better not to be at his place, where his scent was everywhere, where his face was on the photos of him and his family, where he had kissed you senseless and made you feel like the most precious woman on the planet.

Now, you felt nothing walking through the doors. You hadn’t heard from him in over two weeks. Not even a single text saying good morning or good night. It was silence from his end. You decided to do the same.

You packed up the things you had at his house, wrote a short note explaining why, and left his key with the neighbour. You were going to be a free bird.

What you didn’t know was that he was on his way home.

The next day Henry walked through the doors. A big smile on his chiselled face, while Kal was hopping excited beside him, as he unlocked the door.

The moment he stepped through, he felt something was off. Kal barked at him for not moving further inside.

“Good evening, Henry. So wonderful that you’re home,” his elderly neighbour said over the neatly trimmed hedge. “Your lovely lady left her key with me, I didn’t catch why, she was in such a hurry that poor dear. I think she’s suffering from horrible nightmares. She’s been crying herself to sleep for the past few months…”

Henry walked into his house, searching every nook and cranny. All your things were gone. Your books, your fuzzy socks, your scented candles. He found your note.

“Dear Henry. I wish you all the best.”

That was it. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Fuck!”

Henry crumbled the paper. He ran to his garage and started his motorcycle. It was past 8 pm. He knew you were home.

A few deep breaths later and he knocked on your door. He heard the lock being turned and your smiling face greeted him as you opened, but it quickly disappeared. It was replaced with a look of utter shock, and as tears started to form in your sorrowful eyes, he pulled you into his arms. The embrace was warm and familiar, something you had missed in all the months he had been gone.

You wanted to stay strong. To tell him to leave and never to come back. But instead, the only sound that came out of your mouth were sobs.

“I’m sorry,” his voice croaked as he himself was about to break down. “I’m so sorry.”

You tried to pry yourself out of his arms. Your mind and heart were fighting over your body. Mind wanting to throw him out, wanting to be left alone, never wanting to see him again. But your heart… your poor shattered heart wanted him, craved him and his soft touch.

In the end, your heart won.

Henry apologized profusely for the next week. He supported your decision to quit your job, as you weren’t happy there. He helped you find a new job, one that enabled you to travel with him anywhere in the world.

It took a long while before you could step back into his house. He had explained that the days on set had been gruelling as they were on a deadline. He had hardly gotten any sleep at all, as he kept on a tight schedule with little sleep and lots of training to keep his physique in top shape. He didn’t use it as an excuse, but rather as an example of what not to do in a relationship.

For filming the next season, he brought you with him. He would have been up for hours before you even would think of opening your eyes. There was always a red rose on his pillow with a small note attached to it with a quote telling you how much he loved you.

Some mornings he would still be in bed with you, holding you close to his chest, afraid you might be gone if he didn’t trap you in his muscular arms.

“Good morning, my love,” he would whisper in your ear. You would giggle and turn around to give him a gentle kiss on his soft lips. Sometimes he would become frisky and work you into a moaning mess, other times he would talk with you about everything between heaven and earth.

You would go with him to greet the horses, even ride with him on one of the gentle mares. Help him learn his lines while he’s in the makeup chair, having his face pulled and twisted for the wig.

Life became easier as you travelled the world with him. A day never went by without him telling you how beautiful you looked, didn’t matter if you had bedhead or were in a sexy black dress, nor would he forget to tell you that he loved you more than anything in the world. Every morning and every night.

At the end of filming season two, he had planned a special dinner for the two of you. The small square box had been sitting heavily in his pocket for a long time, and now was the time to give it to you. He prayed and hoped that you would say yes.

[merakiclosed]

Yoongi - Exhausted

》 Pairing: Poor Single mum reader x Rich CEO Yoongi

》 Summary: Living in a rundown apartment, trying to raise a 7 year old and balancing one full time job and part time job on Saturdays was hard and tiring. What happens when you discover your crush on your boss, Yoongi. What if he happens to like you back.

Genre: Fluff 

》 Word count: 3k

》 Notes/ Warnings: One swearword used, She/her pronouns used, reader faints, talk of over working 

Masterlist | Requests & messages are open

Its 8pm on a Sunday evening when Yuna trudges into your room, yawning. You put the book you was reading down and chuckle when Yuna flops down onto the bed, headfirst and move a hand to stoke her messy hair.

“Mumma, the machine in the kitchen is making a funny sound again” she mumbles into the duvet. The machine that she was talking about was the washing machine, you know its not been doing well over the past few days, but your trying to make it last as long as it can. You might have just enough to buy a second hand one again if you’re lucky.

You sighed, “It’s okay, Mumma will sort it”

She dramatically throws herself so that she is now facing the ceiling, her eyes fluttering from tiredness. Her yellow pyjamas already on ready for bed, her hair a fluffy mess and her chubby cheeks slightly pink from the summer heat.

“Let’s get you to bed” you whisper to her, picking her up and walking towards her room.

You set her down in bed and tuck her in, brushing some hair out of her face. Kissing her forehead, you mumble “I love you sweet pea”

“M, love you” Yuna whispers so quietly, you almost miss it.

You get up and close the door with a low click. Turning around, you are faced with the poor excuse of an open plan apartment. The wallpaper was an odd, faded shade of grey, some of it bubbling off in the corner next to the front door from it being damp. It was a small apartment, the kitchen, living room and dining room squashed into one room. Yuna had the biggest room in the apartment and you tried to decorate the best you could. Her walls were pink, and her room was scattered with toys.

You was 18 when you had Yuna and your life turned upside down. Cliché but true. There were a lot of comments on how stupid you were to get pregnant and how irresponsible you were for not being careful enough at such a crucial point in your life. I mean, you saved up to go to university but all of that went down hill when you found yourself with Yuna, all of the money you saved went to her. Your parents kicked you out because they disapproved, after all, they always tried to plan your life. You never did live for yourself, it was always their plan, their way of living.

The worst of it was that the boy that got you pregnant. The boy you thought you would live forever with. Left. Once he heard you were pregnant, he fled and just wanted you so that he had someone he could bang ever now and then. He left, changing his phone number and even moved house. He was your everything, you thought he loved you, but clearly it was a lie. You rolled your eyes at the whole ordeal, you weren’t sad, but you were slightly angry, mainly at yourself at believing in something like love.

You shook your head, not wanting to think about this, you had to get ready for tomorrow. In the next 3 hours, you cleaned the house and sorted some emails before tomorrow, cooking some food for lunch and making Yuna’s pack up.

Yawning, you headed to your room, the bed digging into your back as you laid down. Checking to make sure that you set your alarm, you fell into a dreamless sleep.

You wake up to a series of banging on the front door, scaring the living daylights out of you. You stumble out of bed, trying not to fall over from being tangled around the duvet. However, your limbs didn’t cooperate with you and you fell onto the hardwood floor with a loud thud.

“fuck” you wheeze out

Another load of banging had you up and onto your feet, your hands trying to tame your bed hair.

“Happy Monday” An excited voice greets you once you open the door. You stare blankly at Taehyung as he smiles at you brightly. ‘It’s too early for this’, you thought.

“TaeTae” You hear a shout come from behind you as your shoved out of the way by your own daughter so that she can jump into his Taehyung’s arms.

“Hello, my little cuddle bunny” His face seems to light up even more when Yuna places her small hands on his cheeks and leans to kiss his nose.

You close the door behind them when they walk in, heading to the coffee pot.

“I’ll be right back” you mutter to them, though, you doubt that either of them heard you as they talk animatedly about how Yuna is going to write about a unicorn in her writing class today, as the theme was imagination. Gosh, how you wish you could back to that point in your life.

You get ready fairly quickly, your hair now suitable for a work environment. You were dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse, deciding to ditch the blazer as the temperature was supposed to be high today.

You walk out and get a cup of coffee that was already sat on the side; Taehyung must have poured you a cup. You sit on the couch as Tae and Yuna sit in front of you, Tae drinking his coffee and Yuna eating some cereal, both of them fascinated by Strawberry Shortcake on the TV. You wonder if Taehyung is even the same age at you, as you watch him smiling at the kids show.

Checking the time, you realise that you probably set off now so that you are there on time. You lower yourself and kiss Yuna’s head, “Okay, I’m going now. I love you Yuna, make sure that Tae doesn’t forget his phone again” you chuckle.

“Heyyy, I’m the babysitter. Bye have a good day, don’t work too hard” Tae whines.

“Bye Tae” You say as you ruffle his hair. As you close the door, you hear Taehyung yell at you for messing with his hair.

You had a very boring office job from Monday – Friday and a small part-time job on Saturday, leaving Sunday for you and Yuna. You try to spend at much time with her as you can, trying to make up for the loss of another parent as well as the amount of hours that you don’t see her due to work. Sometimes you wonder if she is closer to Taehyung because of this. Taehyung has been with you and Yuna since she was born, as you met him just before you were pregnant. He was the only friend that stayed with you throughout the whole ordeal. He was like your big brother. – He was only a few months older.

The office job you had was boring. Mr Min, the CEO, was weird. He was handsome, but always looked cold, even though you doubt that he is as you often see his gummy smile. However, at least once a day you saw him. He always checked up on you, asking you to go to his office to ask if you’re alright or if you need help. He was amazing, he currently had silver hair that suited him so well, he was extra kind to you, he smiled a little more when with you compared to when he was with someone else. You blinked hard, pausing your steps. ‘Ah, shit. I think I like my boss’, you thought.

‘No, I can’t do that, I have Yuna. She comes first’

You was so caught up in your head that you didn’t notice another voice calling for you as you walked through the office.

“Hello? Ms L/N?” You jumped at the closeness of the voice, turning around to find Mr Min looking at you with an eyebrow raised, an amused smile coating his red, kissable lips. You quickly register that he said something and shake your head, nope we are not going there.

“Oh, Hi, yes hello, sorry” You stumbled over your words, an awkward smile on your face.

“How are you today Ms L/N?” He stares down at you.

“I’m okay thank you Mr Min” You say, stopping yourself from starring at his handsome features. “How are you?”

“I am fine, thank you” He runs a hand through his already messy hair and bids you goodbye as he closes the door to his office.

The only other bad thing about your job, other than it being boring, was the manager of your sector. He was always angry not matter what, you think you did a good job? Wrong. You think you’re done for the day? Wrong, there’s more work on your desk. He was horrible. You always ended up with twice your workload. More often that not, you would be working overtime. You couldn’t even count the amount of times you have had to call Taehyung and ask if he could stay later with Yuna, promising to buy him food.

Sitting down at your desk, you stretched first before logging on, you sigh looking at the photo of you and Yuna on your desk. All you could think about was working hard so that Yuna had a better life than this. A better life than the one that you live. The bad thing was, was that you didn’t even notice that your battery was running out. Quickly.

It was Friday morning when your manager came up to your desk and piled yet another load on your already cramped desk. In an authoritative tone he said “Y/N on my desk by the end of the day”.

You looked at your checklist on the post-it note on your computer, it was going to be a long day. Even though it was only 11am, you rang Tae and asked if he could stay later and that you promise to get him food and pay him extra, seeing as it was a Friday night.

You already felt disoriented this morning, your head throbbing as you lazily gazed at the manila folders on your desk. Realising that you forgot one of the folders in Mr Min’s office from this morning, you get up and head to his office. However, you don’t make it very far as a wave of dizziness crashed over you, you balanced yourself against the wall of the corridor and closed your eyes, breathing deeply for a second, composing yourself. You knocked on the door of his office and bowed once you entered, trying to muster a smile on your face. You just need to make it through today and it will all be fine.

“Hello, Ms L/N. How can I help?” He asks in a husky voice, trying to suppress his anger from his previous meeting. He looks down at his computer for a minute, expecting to hear you say something but when you don’t, he looks up at you. Your eyes seemed unfocused, your body swaying a bit as your whole-body shakes.

The ground beneath you seemed to spin as your eyesight got blurry, the pounding in your head getting worse by the second. With nothing to hold onto, your knees buckle under your weight, fear courses through Yoongi’s body as he catches you, just before you fall, pulling you into his chest. His hands shook as he called an ambulance, his voice wavering a bit. He didn’t know why he was so scared, you only passed out, you weren’t dying. Yet, he couldn’t stop shaking.

He was an idiot, he saw the signs of exhaustion as soon as you walked in on Monday, why didn’t he give you the week off, you was one of the most hard-working employees that he had. For his own selfish reasons, he didn’t want you to be off, he wanted to see you as much as possible. Yoongi admits that he did develop a small crush on, he wanted to know anything and everything about you. However, this was harder than he thought as you were a very closed off person, you hardly ever talked about your personal life and you always tried to keep the conversation topic to work. It wasn’t often when he saw you express your emotions, but when you smiled at him, his heart beat a little faster.

When you open your eyes, you’re greeted with a bright light, causing you to groan as you can faintly hear a little girls voice.

“Mum, Mum”

You blink a few more times as you come face to face with Yuna, her lips trembling and tears already cascading down her face. She pounces on to you, hugging you tightly. You wheeze, your eyes going wide from the hug attack.

“I was so worried when TaeTae came to pick me up” Her voice wavering.

“Aw, Yuna, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just fell asleep at work. Silly mum huh” You wipe away her ears and squish her chubby cheeks together, making her giggle.

“Come on bun, lets get your mum a drink from the vending machine” Taehyung comes to pick her up and bounces her up and down his arms. He looks back at you with a tired smile, concern written over his face. Looks like your going to have a long talk when you get back home.

A cough came from the right of you, turning your head, you find your boss sat that. Mr Min. He got up slowly to pour you a cup of water.

“Here” He have you the plastic cup and you took it with a small thanks.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you was feeling unwell?” He questioned, sitting on the seat next to the bed. It looked like he was going to reach a hand out towards you, but thought better of it as he lowered it, rubbing the back of his neck.

All you could do was shrug to his question, “I didn’t think it was important”. Your voice was so quiet, you didn’t think he heard it, but he did.

“Well, it is important.” He hesitated to say the next sentence “You know that I’m always here, right? I know that I am the big CEO, that I don’t always look friendly. But I want to get to know you. I don’t want to talk about just work, I want to know how you feel, what makes you happy, what makes you sad. I want to know you, Y/N. I want to know all about that little girl that came rushing to your bed in tears. The little girl that questioned why you was asleep. The little girl that resembles you so much”

You were speechless. No one wanted to get to know you, not since him. Although you did have a crush on him, you thought that you could never date, Yuna always being your top priority.

“You know that Taehyung told me everything” You looked up at him with wide eyes. Taehyung did WHAT? He knew about your crush, when you realised it on Monday, you nearly had a full-on melt down once you got home. Taehyung was, of course, there for you, telling you having a crush on someone was normal and it was completely fine. However, you were adamant that this was bad, you couldn’t bring someone else in your life, what happens if he leaves, you don’t think you could go through something like that again. Or what happens if Yuna doesn’t like him? Or he leaves and Yuna is already attached to him? You couldn’t do that to her.

You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t hear Yoongi move to sit next to you on the hospital bed. This time, he didn’t hesitate to bring his hand up to move hair out of you face. You looked up at him with blurry eyes, tears threatening to escape. You were confused, exhausted, and stressed.

“I don’t know how long I can go on for like this” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I’ve taken care of her for 7 years; Tae is her babysitter. He is always there if I need him, but I won’t be able to rely on him forever, he is always on the edge of his seat, waiting for me to call him and ask something else of him. I’m scared that one day, he will walk away, just like everyone else.” You added the last bit on, no longer scared of Yoongi’s reaction. You were just so, so tired.

Yoongi’s heart broke at both the words that you spoke and the tone of your voice. You were such a strong woman. He wanted to take all of the pressure of you, he wanted to give you the world. It’s what you deserved.

“Please let me take care of you now” He whispered, his hand lingering on your cheek.

“How do I know you won’t leave?” Your actions betrayed your words as you leaned into his touch.

“Trust me. Let me prove to you that I’m here and I always will be. Please let me in” he begged, his eyes showing nothing but love and care.

Your body started to shake as you sat up and threw yourself at him, hugging him. His arms went around your waist as he moved the both of you so that you were now sat in his lap. He cooed and whispered soothing words to you as your body wracked with sobs, you couldn’t stop crying.

“I trust you” you whispered into his ear, your breath causing goosebumps to rise on his skin.

When Yuna and Tae walked through the door, laughing loudly, they noticed that you were both passed out. You were on Yoongi’s lap, your head tucked into his chest, whilst his chin rested on top of your head. Both of your arms wrapped around each other.

“Is Mummy safe with that man” Yuna whispers into Taehyung’s ear. Taehyung smiled widely at the both of you, taking his phone out of his pocket to take a picture of the two of you, “Of course she is, Mumma has just found her prince. Now, let’s go and get ice cream”

Next: Mothers day