#every gif looks like it's been taken from a separate set

[marvelouslizzie]

Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: Your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it's impossible to avoid serving him for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, alcohol, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: @notafunkiller and I merged our separate ideas into one and this is the outcome. It was so much fun to write. We hope it'll me the same while reading too.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

You thought this night would be calm and easy, that nothing significant would happen. All that changed when Bucky Barnes set foot in the bar. It’s not his first time here by any means, but until now you successfully managed to avoid him by asking the other bartender to serve his side. This time, unfortunately, you are working alone. It’s a slow night, so there’s no way you can really avoid him.

You watch him find an empty place and sit down, and you really don’t know what to do. You can feel yourself sweating already. You are so nervous. Not because you are afraid of him or anything. He doesn’t look scary. Not to you. You are afraid to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you should be able to ask for his order and serve it without messing it up. That’s not so hard. 

Just keep it simple, you tell yourself.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Bucky looks up from his phone straight into your eyes, and you freeze a little.

“Hello, do you... a draft beer, please.”

His answer confuses you. That’s not his usual order. 

“You sure you don’t want something stronger? We have that bourbon.” You curse yourself internally for paying attention and not being able to hold your tongue.

He raises his eyebrow surprised. “How do you know that? There is no way you served me any drinks cause I would remember you.”

He frowns as soon as he finishes speaking. Maybe you helped your colleague or maybe you were informed about what he drinks just in case he showed up. He’s still the Winter Soldier after all.

“I never served you before.” You say with a shy smile. You hope this is enough of an answer for him.

“Do I look like a bourbon man?” He asks playfully before giving you a smile that transforms his face a little, softening his features. 

“You look like you enjoy quality stuff, and between you and me, our draft beer is shitty.”

That comment makes him chuckle. You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t notice how his eyes fall straight to your breasts.

“Thanks for the tip. Normal beer then?”

“If you insist.” You smile and open the small fridge under the bar where you keep some of the beers. You quickly open it and put it right in front of him, not realizing that gesture shows off your bartender skills a little bit.

He doesn’t look away from you as he takes a big sip before placing the bottle on the table quickly.

“For how long have you been working here?”

“For the past year.” You avoid making eye contact while drying some of the freshly washed glasses.

“Oh.” He sounds kind of taken aback. “I’m surprised you never served me. I’ve been coming here for what? Seven months?”

“Eight.” You bite your bottom lip as soon as the word slips out, trying to shut yourself up so you won’t mess up even more. What were you thinking? Well, you weren't…

His eyes immediately glow, and you wonder if you fucked up for good.

“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He brings the bottle to his mouth and before you can say anything, you watch him finishing it in one go.

“I just noticed you.” Of course, you kept an eye on him, but you played it down a little.

“Well, I didn’t notice you,” he says regretfully. “And I wonder how. I am pretty aware of my surroundings... especially if they are full of beautiful people like you.”

You can’t help but blush, yet you try to sound unaffected. You don’t know if you succeed or not, though.

“This place is usually so crowded and full of… people. So it’s normal.”

“Neah,” he denies immediately. “Have you been hiding or something?”

“I was just on the other side of the bar.” And you were trying to hide from him, saving yourself from this embarrassment because you knew if you talked to him you would fuck up. You were right.

“So I was on the wrong side this whole time.” He shakes his head. “Another beer, please, doll.”

“The same?” You ask while trying not to dwell on the pet name he uses.

“Yes, please. And one drink for you. Whatever you want, if you are allowed to drink, of course.”

The way he offers to buy you a drink surprises you. You feel quite nervous, but you try to maintain your calm. He’s probably just being nice, right? 

“I am allowed to drink, but that’s not necessary.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean you need to talk to me for it, doll. There are no conditions for this drink.”

“Oh.” You didn’t even think he would take it this way. “That’s not why I said it’s not necessary. I wasn’t worried about that.”

“Okay. Whatever you want... I won’t insist.”

“It’s just… I am allowed to drink whatever I want. You don’t need to pay for it.” You try to explain so he won’t take it the wrong way.

“Alright,” he says, a little distant, as you open up another bottle of beer and put it in front of him. 

“I just didn’t want you to pay extra when I can get it for free.” You don’t know why you are explaining yourself like this. It’s normal not to accept drinks from customers.

“It’s fine, I totally understand. Thank you!” He reaches for the bottle immediately.

You take a fancy glass out of the rack and pour yourself one of the ready-to-serve cocktails that your colleague prepared, right in front of him. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps staring at your hands.

“Thanks for the drink.” You say while putting the bottle away.

“Me?” He asks surprised. “Thought this is on the bar.”

“Well, you gave me the idea, and if you really insist on spending your money so unnecessarily, who am I to stop you?”

“That’s a good attitude.” He smiles again before bringing his bottle close to your glass. “Cheers to a good Thursday in a lovely company.”

You clink your glass with a smile on your face. It seems like he finally understood your intention, so you feel relieved. 

“How does that taste?”

“Don’t let the color fool you, it tastes really strong but delicious.” You look at him for a second and notice that got his interest. “Wanna taste it?” You offer your own drink to him, and he contemplates for a few seconds before leaning in.

“Yes, I am curious.”

You hand the glass to him. Your fingers touch for a second, and you get so excited that you worry about dropping the glass. It’s like your heart is in your throat.

“Your hands are cold,” he comments casually before taking a sip right from the spot covered by your lipstick. You gasp. You have no idea if he did it on purpose, but the way he’s drinking it… your body is responding to that so much. You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down. 

“Delicious.” He smiles, handing back your glass, and you notice a bit of lipstick in the corner of his mouth.

It creates this internal dilemma. Should you just let him know about it or act like nothing happened and let him walk around like this? The second one could cause him a lot of embarrassment, and you don’t wanna be the reason for that. That’s why you suddenly find yourself leaning closer to him, just to wipe the lipstick off. He doesn’t move an inch, not jumping like you would expect, letting you touch him. When you realize what you are doing, you suddenly feel super self-conscious. 

“You…” You gulp down. “You have… lipstick on… just here.” 

You keep rubbing your finger against the corner of his mouth. You feel his stubble and how soft his lips are, but you try not to think about it. He chuckles, covering your hand with his. It surprises you so much that you freeze for a second. Then you look into his eyes, struggling to see if you made him feel uncomfortable or not.

“So considerate of you. Thank you.”

You move your hand away from his mouth but not away from his touch. Somehow you can’t find the strength to do that. 

What he does next, though, makes you completely breathless. He brings your hand to his mouth again, but this time he presses his lips gently against your skin, smiling right after. Your eyes open with surprise, feeling completely speechless, yet you don’t move away. You don’t even realize you are smiling slightly.

“Your hands are still so cold.”

“Yeah…” You try to speak, but it feels like your words are stuck in your throat. “They are always cold.”

“We need to change that.” He places another kiss on your hand.

*

He’s surprisingly nervous as he leads you to the living room. Based on his confidence back in the bar, you didn’t expect him to become so shy all of a sudden.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“No.” You answer quickly. The only thing you want is to feel his lips again but you keep that thought to yourself.

“What do you want then?” 

It’s obvious in his tone and the way he looks at you he doesn’t ask you about drinks.

“You.” You can’t believe you said this out loud, but it’s the truth.

He doesn’t need another push as he comes closer, grabbing you by the chin. Your lips crash together with an almost desperate hunger. He takes the opportunity immediately, getting his tongue inside your mouth in a fervent exploration. The sensation is electrifying.

You let him explore your mouth while you focus on his taste. It’s so unique and tasty, you just can’t get enough of it. Your hands slowly move toward the back of his head, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels your touch, breaking the kiss just to move his lips to your neck. 

“Mhmm… James.” His lips feel so good against your neck. It just sends a jolt of arousal through your body.

But then he freezes, with his mouth glued to your neck. You open your eyes confused wanting to ask him what happened, and that’s when you realize what you’ve just said.

“You know who I am?” His voice is a warm whisper against your skin.

“Of course, I know who you are.” You make it sound so natural as if there’s no way you wouldn’t know who he is. “You think I go to the houses of men I don’t know?” You say playfully.

“I didn’t mean that...” He raises his head from the crook of your neck just to look you in the eye. “I didn’t mean it offensively, I just wasn’t sure. I’m just stupid, I didn’t expect it.”

“I know who you are, James Bucky Barnes.”

“Fuck,” he groans, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. “Say it again.”

“James Bucky Barnes or just James?”

He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.

He moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom, doll.”

“Why?” You ask innocently as if you don’t know what he means. “Isn’t your couch comfortable enough?”

For him? Sure. But for you?

“The bed is better.”

“Okay.” You sound so obedient suddenly as you wrap your legs around his torso.

He immediately lifts you up without effort, and you smile, letting him carry you toward his room. He’s a super soldier after all. He closes the door with his foot as soon as you’re inside, then he gently puts you on the bed, like he’s afraid you might break. The way he’s acting is so endearing, but you want him to let go really badly. Even the manner he starts to take off your pants is too gentle.

You let him undress you the way he wants, though. Then you move closer to him, taking his clothes off, your movements not as gentle as his. You are impatient and needy. You see him holding his breath when you reach to touch his chest, close to where his metal arm begins, so you lean in to leave a kiss right there. You don’t know if you are crossing a line, but you have to. He should know that this is not something that would bother you, on the contrary, it turns you on even more. When he doesn’t move away from you, you keep kissing around his scars and his chest. Your hand is on his shoulder, gently caressing.

 “That feels so good, doll,” he says with a sigh before he grabs your waist. “but it's time for me to eat.”

You find yourself on your back so suddenly that you don’t even have time to react. He quickly settles between your legs and you understand exactly what he meant. He lifts them enough so you can rest them on his shoulders as he gets more comfortable on his tummy. You feel a hole in your stomach immediately. You can’t believe Bucky is between your thighs, about to eat you out.

He’s taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.

“Come on, James. Don’t tease me.” You look down just to see him smiling.

“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”

“I would enjoy it more if you stopped teasing and started eating.”

Surprisingly, Bucky doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth. 

“Need you to make them wet for me, please.” Even while saying that, he sounded a little too polite.

“On one condition,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “Stop acting like I am made of glass.”

“But you kinda are.”

“I am not. Believe me.”

He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.

“Please.” The way he’s taking his sweet time is so frustrating.

He lets his hand drop and instead of feeling his fingers on your clit, you feel his tongue at the same time he gets a finger inside you. You moan loudly, finally getting what you wanted from the start.

His other hand reaches for yours when he hears you grabbing the sheet, and you immediately hold it, enjoying how his cold metal feels. When you feel the second finger and he scissors both of them inside you, you’re shocked by how close you suddenly are. You can’t help but arch your back and move your hips, needing it faster.

He reads the signals pretty quickly and lets you use his mouth while he keeps pumping his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to gasp, moan, and start to shake because of the pleasure he’s giving you. 

“James! Shit. I’m- gonna… ahh… come.”

You moan louder than you expected, dropping your head against his sheets, possessed by a great wave of pleasure. You want to tell him not to stop anything, but you can’t. And you don’t need to as he keeps licking and fingering you while you ride your orgasm out, prolonging it as much as possible.

When it’s done, you are feeling so good yet you are hungry for more. You raise your head a little and see Bucky still between your legs, but this time his beard is covered with your slick. He looks so handsome. His blue eyes are shining and his hair is all messy. It makes you wanna kiss him and that’s exactly what you do. You reach down to him, and he meets you in the middle, kissing you the way he was just eating you out: with passion and hunger.

He’s less gentle than before as you feel his hands grabbing your breasts, but it’s still not enough. You cover his hands with yours and push him to grab them harder than before. You let out a muffled moan while kissing him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You find yourself blushing like you two aren’t having sex. To mask your reaction, you reach out to his hard cock, gently grabbing it.

“Oh god,” he groans as he instinctively squeeze your breasts harder.

“Mhmm, yes.” You lean into his touch. “Just like that.”

Bucky looks at you as if you said something shocking. Is he not used to communicating during sex?

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re surprising me for someone so delicate.”

“I told you, I am not.”

He smiles. “Do you wanna help me put on a condom then?”

“I would love to, but…” You smile. “What if I told you I am clean and on the pill?”

“Fuck, I need you.” He kisses you suddenly. “Now.”

“I am right here.” It sounds so calming. “You can take me however you want.”

You’re not only on your back in the next second, but you also have his cock lined up at your entrance.

“Jesus, doll! For a pretty little thing, you’re quite nasty.”

“I just know what I want.” And this is it.

He nods, wrapping your legs around his ass at the same time he pushes inside you. In a second, your head is thrown back while you moan loudly. The way he fills you is so delicious. It makes you feel so full but not uncomfortable.

“You’re taking me so well already.”

“Please…” You raise your hips to create more friction. “Please, move.”

He brings his mouth to your breast a little before he starts thrusting, making sure to leave a small hickey right on top of it. It hurts so good, and you moan without holding back. It is music to Bucky’s ears. He just wants to hear it again, so he does it again.

“You want it rough, don’t you?” He thrusts harder than before. “You’re so needy.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is so shaky already. “I told you already.”

“Told me what?” He teases. “I don’t remember.”

“That I am not made of glass.”

“No, you are made for me.” He brings his hand to your face to move the hair strands that cover your eyes. “For my cock.”

“In that case…” You don’t know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from. “You are made for me. To fill me up.” You move your hips again, trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Oh, god. You’re so fucking wet,” he moans. “I am, I’m gonna fill you up so much.” He kisses you suddenly, your teeth almost crashing together because of the thrusts, but you don’t care.

“Can’t wait.” You tease him. “Don’t hold back, okay?”

He says nothing, letting his head drop a little so he can suck on your neck properly. He’s definitely fucking you harder. He pulls until he’s almost completely out of you before thrusting inside you again. And again. And again. It takes your breath away. The way it makes you feel is indescribable. You lose the little remaining control you had and just turn into a moaning mess. 

“Say my name, baby. C-come on.”

“James?” You sound hesitant even if you don’t mean to because you don’t know which name he wants to hear.

“Again,” he begs, his metal arm on your leg pushing it right against his ass.

“James!” This one comes out so naturally. No questions, no hesitation. You just breathe out his name with a moan.

“God, you look so beautiful. So pretty with my cock inside you.” His thrusts get faster, and you have no idea how he can speak so well while you’re a mess.

“I’m so close,” you can barely say without taking a breath in the middle of the sentence.

“What do you want?”

“Just… harder.”

“Like this?” He asks, suddenly thrusting a little harder than before. “Or like this?”

“This! Yes! Just like this!”

“You just want it hard.” He whispers against your ear. “What a dirty girl.”

You hear him, but you can’t respond. You are too busy coming all over his cock, and it feels like you are in heaven. He continues to fuck you as the pleasure fades away, murmuring how pretty you are and how good you make him feel before he comes, too, grabbing the bedpost behind you with his metal arm. It makes a clicking sound, but you don’t care, opening your still foggy eyes just to watch him.

There’s so much come. You can already feel it dripping out of you as he keeps fucking you. You expect it to end soon, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on. The way he loses control as he comes just triggers another orgasm out of you. You would be surprised how quickly you could come again if it didn’t feel overwhelmingly good. You can’t think about anything other than him and the way he makes you feel.

His come is getting all over your thighs and ass, and the bed, as he moans. “Kakaya khoroshaya devochka.” What a good girl.

You can’t help but laugh despite not understanding a word of what he says. “Is that Russian?”

He opens his eyes, and the blue you love is almost completely grey. “Yes.” He sounds confused, too. 

“What does it mean?” Your afterglow can’t overshadow your curiosity. “If you don’t tell me, this isn’t happening again.” You try to make it obvious you aren’t serious with your playful tone. Especially not after those orgasms.

“Look at you, little and feisty, blackmailing me.” He chuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips. “I told you what a good girl you are. I didn’t realize I spoke in Russian.”

You laugh a little. “Say it again.” You give him the cutest look. “Please?”

“Ty moya khoroshaya devochka.” He repeats softly. You’re my good girl.

You don’t even realize how content you look as you keep smiling.

“Now, I can get used to that.”

“Say my name again, please.”

You love the neediness in his voice. “James?” You tilt your head a little. “Or would you prefer Bucky?”

“Fuck, it doesn’t matter.” His thumb is suddenly on your lips. “I can get used to that, too.”

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[kiiwiigii]

Mine

Jasper x Vampire!Fem!Reader 

Summary: You make the mistake of wearing someone else's hoodie. 

Warnings: 

NSFW 18+ 

Smut 

The Major *wink, wink* 

Possessive sex 

Oral (F. receiving) 

Cream pie 

Word Count: 2.8k+ 

Requested?: For Kinktober! 

Intense and angry possessive sex with jasper pleaaaaaase 🙏 

A/N: A special thank you to @alecvolturi and @demetris-cocksleeve who both encouraged me to not bin this. This was the most frustrating one I have written so far. But I hope you enjoy!

I honestly should have seen it coming. 

It would be just my luck to be left alone with Jasper while the family had decided to take separate vacations. 

Coming out of the newborn stage at 2 years, I still didn't feel comfortable enough to be out in the world just yet. Alaska was a safe haven for me until I felt I was ready. So, Jasper had stayed behind, essentially playing babysitter. 

And it was awkward as hell. 

I think it was obvious that I had a crush on him. 

Obvious to everyone in the fucking house. 

Including Jasper. 

And I knew he could feel it. Which was as embarrassing as it sounds. And it was quite obvious that he didn't feel the same way, since he had never acted on it. 

We were just friends. 

And as awkward as it was, I sucked it up and enjoyed his company instead. 

At least he couldn't hear my thoughts, unlike poor Edward. 

Jasper made sure that we had something new to do every day, but he also gave me space when he sensed I needed it. In a weird way, it felt like we had been growing closer, and I had caught him looking at me often, something flashing in the back of his eyes. And like me, he would look away quickly.  

It was like a sort of dance that neither of us would admit to. 

I sat on the kitchen counter, watching the snow drift by in thick flurries through the large windows. Alice had given us the heads-up that a storm was rolling in during one of her daily check-ins. Jasper and I had just returned from hunting a few hours ago, and despite being cold-natured now, I was still uncomfortably cold. I held a cup of hot water in my hands. Not to drink, but it made me feel somewhat normal, and it warmed my hands fairly well. 

I let my mind wander. I should go sit in the living room where the fire was, I'd be much warmer. But Jasper was in there. And every time I even looked at the fire all I could think about was him taking me right there on the floor in front of it, the plush rug soothing against the skin of my back- 

I squirmed a little at just at the thought of it. 

"Darlin'?" 

I blinked up at Jasper. I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn't even been paying attention to my surroundings. He had only taken to calling me 'darlin' recently and it practically set my body afire. By God, if I could blush, I would be beet red. Quickly clearing my thoughts, I smiled up at him. 

"Hey, Jazz." 

"What are you wearing?" 

I looked down at what I had on. Shorts and a hoodie. 

"Clothes?" It came out as a question. 

"Yes, I can see that. But why are you wearing Emmett's clothes?"  

I started at the anger in Jasper's tone, surprised and wary. I eyed him quizzically. 

"Because. I wanted his hoodie. I like it."  

 Jasper scowled, and disappeared before reappearing a moment later, one of his own hoodies in hand 

"Here. This is much warmer, and I know you're cold."  

"Why do you care?" I raised a brow at him in challenge. 

This was completely out of character for Jasper and to say that I was confused was an understatement. 

We had a mild stare-down until Jasper actually growled at me. I sucked in a breath, heat shooting straight between my legs, and I squeezed my thighs together again.  

Fuck.  

That was playing dirty.  

And given my current state of emotions, he absolutely had to know it. 

"Just get rid of it." He demanded. 

"What?" 

"Emmett's hoodie. Get. Rid. Of. It." 

I gulped, a little uncomfortable with Jasper's sudden mood swings. I quickly took the hoodie from his hands. It was his dark blue one, my favorite one to see him in. 

He continued to stare at me, waiting, and I cleared my throat. Finally, he raised a brow at me, and I rolled my eyes, trying to fight the bit of embarrassment rolling through me. 

"Well, if you insist on me putting it on right here and now, Jasper, I'm going to insist that you turn around." 

His brows furrowed adorably. "And why would I need to do that?" 

I looked away from our little staring contest, biting my lip. "Because I don't have anything else on under it." 

Jasper straightened up and his eyes darkened as he looked at me, and if I'd had a beating heart it would have leaped at the burning look in his eyes. 

"What?" I said defensively. "It's soft. I like how it feels! Most of my clothes are scratchy!" 

He turned around quickly, his hands coming up to massage his temples. Keeping an eye on him I quickly discarded Emmet's hoodie and slid my arms through the sleeves of Jasper's, zipping it all the way up. I discreetly buried my nose into it for a moment. It was so much softer than Emmet's, and it smelled significantly better. Like Jasper. 

Fuck. 

I could feel the wetness beginning between my thighs. 

I needed to escape. 

Like, now. 

I couldn't exactly hide it, but it was way better than creating an uncomfortable atmosphere for the both of us. 

"You know, you wouldn't feel so cold if you put more clothes on." He was facing me again. 

I felt embarrassment flood through me. He had a point. And it was also the perfect excuse to escape- 

"Not that I really mind," He continued with a smirk, his eyes raking up and down my form. "I like what I see. And I like  how you look in my clothes. Especially in my clothes." 

My brain screeched to a halt, my lips parting in shock. His southern drawl had suddenly gotten deeper. This sounded like the Major talking. I had only met the Major once, right before Victoria's army came for Bella. That had been… an experience to say the least. And if that part of him was coming out, then that explained his sudden shift in mood. 

"And I have to say that I also prefer you wrapped up in my scent."  

He was practically purring. 

I gulped, suddenly on edge. "Why?" 

Jasper's eyes were predatory, nearly black. "Because darlin', you're mine." 

My eyes widened at his words. He approached me slowly, hands reaching out on either side of me on the counter, my legs falling open unconsciously and allowing him into my space. He leaned in, eyes watching me with such intensity that I forgot how to breathe. Perhaps it was a good thing that I didn't need to breathe because before I knew it, I felt a wave of lust roll through me, and it wasn't just my own. 

I gasped as he leaned in, claiming my lips with his own, and my legs wrapped around him without a second thought. He groaned, cupping my neck as he tilted my head back, while his other hand gripped my waist possessively. He tasted like mint, with a small tinge of copper from hunting earlier in the day. He swiped his tongue along my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth obediently, letting him in. 

After a moment he pulled back and buried his nose into my neck, his hands sliding down to grip my thighs. I tried to catch my breath, despite not really needing it. 

"You taste so much better than I thought you would." His voice was low and husky, muffled by the fabric of his hoodie. 

Goosebumps erupted across my body, and I could practically feel the wetness begin to drip down my thighs to the counter.  Jasper must have caught on to my confusion and doubt because he gripped my thighs even tighter. 

"Oh, yes. You have no idea how many times I've thought about you, darlin'." He pulled back to look at me. "Of all the ways I could have you. In my bed. On the couch. On the floor. Against the wall."

I gasped, thighs squeezing together around his waist. 

"That's right, darlin'. I've lost count of how many times I've thought of making you mine." 

"Yours?" I squeaked. 

"Mine." 

Oh my.  

Oh fuck. 

I really, really liked it when he was possessive. 

I moaned, clutching his shirt, a bit dazed as he swooped in for another kiss. 

"Oh," I gasped as he kissed his way down, lightly raking his teeth against my neck, his hands tracing invisible lines over my curves.  

I could feel every inch of him pressed up against me, and it was almost too much. I rolled my hips up against him and he pulled away, breathing heavily. 

Before I could comprehend what was happening, I was being lifted off the counter. One of his arms wrapped around my waist while the other slid under my ass to hold me up. I held on for dear life as he carried me to the living room and sat me down on the couch. I stared at him as he kneeled in front of me on the floor, spreading my legs open slightly. 

Jasper suddenly paused, looking up at me with dark eyes. 

"This is your one and only chance to tell me no. Otherwise, I will have you, right here and now, and there will be no going back." 

I gulped but said nothing, choosing to nod instead. 

"Use your words, darlin'. I need to hear you say yes." 

"Y- yes." 

"That's my girl." 

He smirked before reaching up and tugging at the zipper of the hoodie, the fabric slowly falling away to reveal my nakedness underneath. I automatically went to cover my breasts when Jasper grabbed my wrists with a warning growl. 

"Don't you even think about it darlin'. You are mine. And I want to admire every inch of you." 

My breath caught in my throat, and I felt a thrill of pleasure and submission at his words, my body betraying me as my nipples hardened. 

Jasper let out a purr of pleasure and slowly let go of my wrists, pulling my arms away from my body and exposing my breasts to his hungry gaze. 

I gasped when he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around my waist, splaying his hands across my back beneath the hoodie, and pressing me to him, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. My hands automatically came up to twist themselves in his hair, my back arching at the wet sensation of his tongue on my skin.  

I couldn't help but moan as he nipped and licked before biting down lightly, teasingly. I gasped as the pain and pleasure mixed together, creating a delicious sensation that had my pussy practically pulsing. The sensations were overwhelming, and I couldn't keep still. I started to rock my hips against him, moaning. 

Before I knew it, he was pulling away, leaving me to whimper at the loss of his tongue.  

Jasper slowly began to peel my shorts down my legs, exposing my soaked panties. 

I squirmed at the way he took in the sight of me before traveling back up to my face. 

"Mine." he purred, his eyes never leaving mine as he hooked his thumbs into my panties. He gave them a little yank, and I felt them slide down my legs. "Fuck. You're gorgeous."  

His hands trailed up my smooth, silky legs and I quivered as his hands got closer to my heated center. I couldn't help but whimper as one of his hands traced the apex of where my thigh met my pussy, right along the panty line.  

"Please." I begged softly. 

I gasped in surprise at how quickly he moved, one hand gripping my ass to pull me closer, and the other quickly shoving his face into my soaked pussy. 

I had to bite back another moan, my back arching as he slid his tongue along my folds and began to lick me. 

"Holy fuck," I managed to croak out, my eyes nearly rolling to the back of my head. 

The feeling of his hot tongue along my slick folds was almost like an electric shock, hitting me in the base of my stomach and sending sparks throughout my body, ending in my fingertips, which had tangled themselves in Jasper's golden locks. 

I had completely lost control of myself, practically squirming with each swipe of his tongue. Jasper grasped my thighs to keep me still, relentless in his assault. He started swirling his tongue around my clit, teasing me, and slowly driving me closer to my climax. The feeling of his mouth finally deciding to suck on my clit sent me right over the edge. 

I let out a cry as I came hard, gasping for breath. Jasper didn't let up, continuing to viciously lap up my juices as he sent me spiraling into yet another orgasm.   

By the time my breathing had returned to normal, he had somehow managed to escape from my hold and was standing in front of me. 

"We're not done yet, darlin'." 

I swallowed thickly. He smirked, watching me intently as he slowly unbuttoned his jeans, making me even more aware that I was unable to get rid of my burning need for him. He slid his jeans down and kicked them off before stepping close to me. I could smell the faint scent of me on his breath and I licked my lips in anticipation as he inched closer. 

"We're not done until you can't walk." 

I sucked in a surprised breath, pussy practically pulsing with need. 

Jasper chuckled as he pushed me back on the couch and spread my legs wider. His touch was soft and gentle as he spread my pussy open and slid two fingers inside me, stroking them in and out yet again. This man had magic fingers. And if he had me coming undone with just his tongue and fingers alone, it made me wonder what he was able to do with his cock. 

"I have to make sure you're nice n' ready for me darlin'." He murmured. "Here, put your hands up under your knees for me. Just like that. Now, don't let go." 

I obeyed, chest heaving and now fully exposed in a way I never thought possible. Jasper grinned before leaning in and kissing me deeply, tugging at my bottom lip with his teeth. 

I could taste myself on his lips and it only made me more aroused. He slowly slid his fingers out of me and replaced them with his hard, throbbing length. 

When had he lost the underwear?? 

I didn't have much time to think about it before he was pushing himself inside me, filling me up in one smooth thrust.  

I let out a ragged breath in surprise. 

"Jasper!" I squeaked. 

I was so full that I could feel every inch of him, so thick and hard. 

Jasper barely stopped to pause, bending down to nip at my ear in admonishment before he started thrusting in and out of me, a slow, steady rhythm that had me moaning and gripping the underside of my knees for dear life. 

Fuck. 

He was hitting that spot again, and I had the feeling that I wouldn't be seeing only stars this time around. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to another orgasm, the pleasure building up inside me until I couldn't take it anymore. 

"Jasper," I gasped out, my nails digging into my thighs. "I'm gonn- gonna come." 

He grinned before driving himself even deeper into me, his pace picking up as he started to drive me closer and closer to the edge, feeling my walls practically strangling his cock. 

"Come for me, Darlin'." He purred.  

My toes curled in pleasure as the coil building in my belly snapped, and I came hard, my body shaking and my pussy clenching around him. Jasper followed suit a few seconds later, his body going rigid as he came inside me.  

"Don't move." He ordered. 

Jasper paused before pulling out, looking down at me with a satisfied grin, eyes still dark and intense. I was panting, doing my best to catch my breath yet again while holding my legs up. I could feel his seed dripping out of my pussy and onto the couch. 

He licked his lips, taking in the sight of me and I nearly moaned at the thought of what he was seeing. I must look like a wreck. Completely ruined. Half dressed in his hoodie and completely defiled, his cum running down my pussy and ass. 

Jasper smirked. 

"Oh, darlin'. You look perfect that way." 

{Kinktober} // {Masterlist}

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#jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #twilight #the twilight saga #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #smut #jasper hale smut

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Geto/gojo/reader “I can’t believe there’s only one bed” and HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY

THANK YOOUUU!! So, this one really sang to me, I went ahead and combined the two, mostly because they are very similar. Thank you both for the prompt!!

Now Presenting...

Starring: A flirty Satoru Gojo, and a tired Suguru Geto

Your body protested every step you took as you walked into the hotel, screaming at you to lay down and accept the sweet embrace of death. Okay, maybe death was a little extreme, but you could definitely have gone for a light coma in that moment. A yawn you had been suppressing came forward, and you tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Awe, well aren’t you cute when you’re sleepy.” Gojo teased with a smile, earning him a glare from you. 

“Shut up Satoru.” This entire trip he kept making note of how cute you were, and how you needed to be protected, and at this point, he was on the brink of losing vocal cord privileges.

“Flirt later you two, let’s just get checked in.” Suguru muttered as he ushered the two of you to the front desk. He tried to summon a friendly smile for the clerk, but it didn’t touch his tired eyes. “Hi! Uh, we should have two reservations under Masamichi Yaga.” He said, really hoping they didn’t ask for an id. He told his teacher that he should probably put the rooms under one of the three people going on the mission, but the man was more muscle than brain.

The young worker started typing on the computer, before confusion fell over her features. “Um, I found the reservations, but it says it’s only for one room?” She asked. You were a bit taken back by that, and you could tell from the looks on their faces the boys were too. You thought for sure you’d at least get your own room. But, then again, if getting a room with 3 beds was cheaper than getting 2 separate rooms, it did make sense for Yaga to take that route, the penny pinching bastard. 

“Uh, yea that should be fine, that’s us.” Suguru shrugged, too tired to really argue. Much to your relief (and concern) the woman nodded and happily gave over the room key, not bothering to ask for an ID. What a stand up place. The three of you dragged your tired worn bodies over to the elevator. Well, two of you did. Satoru felt fine, because of course he did. And because he had no problem filling the elevator with whatever came to his head. You shared a look with Suguru.

How do we shut him up? Your eyes asked.

Pillow over his face as he sleeps Sugurus eyes offered.

No, I want him to shut up now. 

Oh, that’s not gonna happen. For now, we just have to endure him.

You sighed, knowing he was right and hating that fact at the same time. Thankfully, the elevator door opened, and the room wasn’t far from it. Geto unlocked the door, and you and Gojo practically fell over him to get into it. You quickly went to grab your toothbrush, and Gojo went to fiddle with the tv. It was Suguru who noticed it first.

“Uh, guys? I don’t see another bed.” He said. You and Gojo stopped cold in your tracks, heads whipping to the center of the room and- yep. That was one bed, and only one bed. Not even so much as a pull out couch in sight. 

“OH ho ho!!” Satoru laughed, launching himself onto the bed and folding himself into what you think was meant to be a sexy pose. “I’ve read fan fiction before, I know what happens here!” He cackled, “Be gentle with me, I’m a virgin” He swooned, acting like a helpless flower. 

“I call sleeping in the bathtub.” Suguru said, checking out of this battle before it became a war.

“No, Don’t!” Gojo whined, reaching out to him, “The bathtub is cold and hard, I'm warm and soft. Unless you want me to be hard.” He winked. 

“I can’t believe there’s only one fucking bed, who sets this shit up?!” You snapped, aggressively waving your hands at the bed.

“God.” Gojo responded.

“Bad fan fiction writers.” Geto retorted, apparently salty about his characterization in my past fics. 

“Satoru get out of the bed.” You demanded, shaking your head. You did not just get out of a fight with ten, count em, ten first grade curses to sleep on the floor.

“How about you get in the bed?” He purred.

“I will, as soon as you get out of it.” you scoffed, fighting back a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“Why not get in it with me?” He grinned at you, opening his arms wide as an invitation. 

“I’d rather sleep in the bathtub.” You replied.

“Not an option, I already called it!” Suguru reminded you.

“Why don’t you sleep with him?” You accused more than asked, “He’s your man!”

“He is most definitely not my man!” Geto rebuffed the statement, shaking his head.

“He’s actually my man, we just haven’t taken our relationship to the next level yet.” Satoru purred with a cheeky wink to Geto to really seal the deal. Geto rolled his eyes.

“I’m going to bed, goodnight.” He said, going to grab a pillow from the bed, only for Satoru to grab his arm.

“Come on guys, don’t be silly! This bed is big enough for all of us!” He argued, “We all trust each other, right?!” Gojo paused long enough to look at both you and Geto, but not long enough for an answer. He already knew it. “We know no ones going to try any funny business, we trust each other with our lives there's no reason for any of us to be uncomfortable tonight!” you and Suguru shared more glances. Gojo may be annoying, but when he was right he was right. The only thing really keeping the three of you from sharing was standard social conventions. 

“Fine, but if any of you touch me I’m throwing you off the balcony.” You warned. Geto sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the bed.

“I just don’t get why we weren’t warned about this.”

“I mean, it kind of explains the weird look she gave us.” You noted, sitting on the other side of Gojo.

“Yay, sleepover!” Gojo cheered, grabbing onto Suguru because he was the one that didn’t threaten him, “Fair warning, I’m a cuddler.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows for emphasis. 

“I knew I should have just slept in the tub.” Geto sighed.

🛏️🛏️🛏️

In the morning, you were a tangled mess of limbs and drool with your two best friends. Any warning against cuddling being tossed to the wind in exchange for the comfort human warmth brings. You hated to admit it, but it was the best sleep you had gotten in weeks. Gojo woke up not long after you, smiling softly, slowly coming back to life.

“Good morning,” He said. You shook your head and covered his face with a pillow.

“It was before you started talking.” You muttered.“It’s 6 am, go back to bed.” Suguru begged, not happy to have been woken up.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #suguru geto #gojo x reader #geto x reader #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #satosugu #satosugu x reader #satoru gojo fluff #suguru geto fluff #satosugu fluff #satosugu x reader fluff #gojo x reader fluff #geto x reader fluff #nobody likes you when you're 23

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Finally

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Spy!Reader

Plot: Bucky and you have a hard time staying away from each other. And though you try to push him away, every time he finds you again, the universe finds a new way to pull you apart.

Warnings: 18+. Smut, fluff and angst.

Words: 9,1OO

A/N: Recently I’ve been trying to understand what it is people want to read of my works and I have no idea, so here is my brain in scrambled pieces. I'm so sorry it’s so long, I swear it's worth it!

Romania.

It isn’t often you agree to such an extensive trip to meet up with one of your clients, but apparently this particular one can’t be seen in the more supervised countries. Besides, you’ve never been to Bucharest before, so you’re quite enjoying your drink at the small picturesque café.

You’ve done your research and know damn well who you’re meeting up with. A small part of you is screaming at you not to agree to do business with him or back out now, but your curiosity overrules any common sense. Last you heard, Hydra had lost their favourite asset and you can confidently say you were relieved to hear it. It had been a few too many times that specific organisation had made your job more difficult than it had to be.

A many number of things could have happened to the Winter Soldier. He could’ve been killed, corrupted by another organisation, fled to live as a hermit– You really want to know. It’s the spy in you that enjoys knowing the ins and outs of the criminal world. He’d tried not to mention who he is, but you had a few offers on the table, he needed some leverage to get you to agree to meet him. Safe to say, you were surprised he’d told you he was the Winter Soldier. Big chance you will now be the only person to know about the asset’s current whereabouts. That is, if you live to tell it of course…

Every hair in your neck stands up straight, despite the comfortable weather and the easy going crowd roaming the street. The sudden change in atmosphere has your spy senses stand on alert. Your spine stiffens and you causally look around, slightly discouraged at the way your body has never responded to anything in this particular manner.

You cross your legs and turn to look behind you, scanning every face in the crowd. When you turn back, the seat next to yours is taken, only a rickety metal table separating you from the large man sat in the other chair. Your breath halts in your throat and you look him up and down, instantly recognising the buff man as the Winter Soldier. How? You’re not sure, you’d never really seen a picture.

You check his hands. Gloves. With this weather? To cover up. You check his build and take a particularly long time to do so, because God, this man is broad. He’s all sturdy flesh and muscle, firm and casual. His thighs look like tree trunks and you know the man is fast, despite his build. You force the deliberate sweep of your eyes over his body to appear more nonchalant and confident than you feel.

Then your eyes reach his face and the breath gets knocked out of you. There is nothing in that face that hints towards a stone cold killer. Dark blue, deep set eyes, freckles pattered over his nose and cheeks, lips bitten raw from contemplation and an expression on his face that almost looks like… Nerves?

“Hello,” you start carefully, unable to keep your surprise from your tone, but sounding relatively cool to your own relief.

“Hi,” he says and the tone of his voice is deep, but rough, like he hasn’t spoken in ages. You think that maybe he hasn’t.

“Should I refer to you as the Winter Soldier?” you ask, composing your cool nature entirely now. “Or would you say that is a bit on the nose?”

He huffs a laugh and you smile, feeling the overwhelming urge to make him do that again. “James will do, thanks.”

“Alright James,” you say, taking your time to let your mouth get acquainted with his name, “what is it you need my services for?”

“I hear you’re a spy,” he starts and searches your face. “A good one– the best one.”

“Well now, I’d hate to disappoint,” you purr. “What do you need?”

“It’s not so much a document or one piece of information,” he mumbles and his face hardens as he collects himself. You sit upright and frown as you study him. “I need you as a partner for an assignment.”

You instantly shake your head, “Absolutely not. I’m not working for Hydra, that organisation is–”

“Not Hydra,” he quickly cuts in. “Just me. It’s a personal assignment.”

You wait for him to continue, not appreciating his vague communication if he wants to become partners on whatever this is.

He sighs, “I– I have a lot of… gaps. Things I don’t remember, things I can’t quite place. Years of information. The things I did for Hydra– I wasn’t there for most of it. Neither were a lot of people. So I need someone with access to some dark shit to help me figure it out.”

Chewing your lip, you process the information he gives you and empathy clenches your heart together. James gives you the time you need to put the pieces together. You’d heard of Hydra’s experiments with brainwashing and had already sort of assumed some of their soldiers had only worked for them because of that reason, had stayed far away from the organisation’s shit to steer clear from that danger.

But it’s so different to see it in real life, or what is left of it, you suppose. Many things aren’t quite clear to you just yet. However, you slowly start nodding your head. Your brain starts running a million miles an hour, all the gears turning to form a plan, the way you always do before you agree to a job.

“Can you pay me for the service?” you ask, already wondering to yourself if you’d help the clearly hopeless and damaged man for free, and to be honest, just for kicks. The things you’d dig up from everything he’ll give you– Selfishly, you’d kill for it. Anyone would kill for it.

He gives you a tight-lipped, apologetic smile, “Not that much. But I can save up more.”

You think. Your gut tells you he won’t kill you after he gets what he wants, even though he could. And though you will always keep a close eye on him and everything he’s capable of, your gut feeling has never disappointed you.

So you sigh and shake your head. “That’s okay. I’ll do all of it for free, and you can pay me what little you have to insure that I stay quiet. Sound fair?”

His eyes narrow with a twinkle that you hadn’t expected from a man like him and he says, “Deal.”

“Alright,” you say and finish your coffee before clearing your throat. “First order of business: tell me your full name.”

He shakes his head with a faint smile, “James Buchanan Barnes.”

Oh shit.

You do know him.

Germany.

Relief seeps into your bones as you cross the threshold of your building and you slip into your routine of coming home. Tired feet drag you through your building and to your apartment, and muscle memory unlocks your door. After the week you’ve had, you are ready to turn off your brain and settle down.

You enjoy being this tired though, revel in it. Exhausting yourself with a normal person job and the way it puts your usually restless body to sleep at night is exactly what you wanted for your life.

One step into your own hallway, however, makes your daydream of a quiet night in crumble to your feet. Something is off. You can blame your trained senses for being so instantly on edge, but the apartment you just stepped into isn’t a place that has been vacated for the past nine hours. This apartment isn’t empty.

An even older routine settles into your bones this time and you creep into your home on light feet. The air is warm and the space is completely quiet. You’ve been alive long enough, seen enough, to know quiet is never good.

You don’t turn on any lights and let your eyes adjust to the dark. Ears perked and muscles at the ready to spring into action, you slowly make your way further into your home. And when you slip around the corner and look into your darkened living room, you let out a frustrated sigh at the dark figure lounging on your couch.

“How did you find me here,” you grumble and it is hardly a question.

You can feel him sit up and tune in to your presence. You couldn’t explain it if your life depended on it, but you instantly knew who it was. The dark figure in the dark apartment, waiting patiently for someone to catch him. After all, he will deny it until his dying day, but he does have an awful lot of dramatic flair for someone so stoic.

“Better question is: why are you here?” he counters and you drop your bag onto one of your dining chairs, shooting him an unimpressed glare. “Trying to stay off the radar, are you?”

“And failing, clearly,” you say before he can say it for you. “How did you find me here, James?”

Your eyes are finally fully adjusted and you see the smirk forming on his face. You haven’t seen that smirk in five years. “I have my ways,” he says and pushes off the couch, adjusting his leather jacket. “Now, what are you doing in this abandoned town?”

“It’s not abandoned,” you counter and slip off your coat, deciding to just go about your old routine and ignore his presence as much as you can. Maybe then he’ll go away.

“It’s a shit town and you know it.” He cocks his head at you, eyes tracking all of your movements.

You notice his puzzled look. He’s genuinely wondering what is left of his old ally and you can’t quite blame him. Perhaps he can easily see your lame attempt at finding a normal life for yourself. He has probably tried a thousand times himself to escape the roaring life of saving the world, has probably failed every time, too. But you’re determined to make it work – make yourself normal and live a full life.

And that is all you were to him anyway, just an ally. The entire time, you’d felt that he paid a little too much attention to you, but you supplied critical information and occasionally wiped someone off the map. A spy. Nothing more, nothing less. However, for the infamous Winter Soldier to need your alliance again, you cannot help but feel wary.

After the first time he approached you, you’d spent months together. It was an effort not to grow too close – too much effort. Because you had. It was impossible not to, helping someone literally piece their life together through intimate and awful memories. Digging through protective walls and coping mechanisms to help him rebuild some of his life again. With a lot of reluctance from both of you.

Yes, you’d grown close then. Grown close enough that you fell asleep slumped over the kitchen counter in his awful Romanian apartment, your face sticking to the countless research papers. You’d woken up hours later on his poorly constructed bed on the floor with a blanket thrown over your frame. Close enough that you’d eventually asked him to assist you on your missions. Ones that required a different skillset than your own. Close enough that you cooked for each other, sometimes shared clothes, roasted one another for the mental health issues that lead you both to your current occupations.

After a while, you couldn’t describe your relation to Barnes in any other way than a partnership. Partners. Who had kissed once. Maybe twice. After some bad Vodka.

You sigh and turn to him, “Why are you here, James?”

“I need to lay low for a while.” A wider smirk, his eyes narrowing at you. “I remembered I know someone who is very good at that.”

“Careful,” you warn and roll your eyes. “You just gave me a compliment.”

His smirk turns to a smile and he shrugs off his own jacket, instantly making himself at home in your apartment. A strange thing when it comes to Bucky, since you don’t recall that man feeling at home anywhere. Then, he did always have this incessant cocky streak around you and he is awfully good at getting on your nerves, so he probably sees the perfect opportunity to be a pain in the ass.

“If you so much as sneeze on anything, I swear–”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts in, his tone unimpressed. “You’ll skin me alive. You’re always so weird about your stuff.”

You give him a tiny proud smile and decide to make yourself something quick to eat, only to feel him peer at you from the edge of your kitchen. He’s met with a confused frown before you raise your brows at him to make him spit it out.

“What’s the catch?” he asks warily.

You smile and look down at the sandwich you’re making. “Nothing. Just fix your shit and get out of my hair as quickly as possible.”

He winces slightly and you turn to him fully now, slowly taking a bite.

“What.”

Bucky sucks in a short breath and gives you an apologetic look before he speaks, “It might be a while…”

Your brows drop, “What did you do?”

“Nothing, I–”

“Bucky.” You cut him another look, one shaped by many, many instances of working together. “What. Did. You. Do.”

“It’s not important. I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

You open your mouth to continue arguing with him, but decide against it, already done with his shit. Yes, he is doing better and supposedly now qualifies as a good person. But you know the man before you and the soldier cannot stop himself from lying about pretty much everything. He has damaged tendencies. Give him an inch and he will take a mile, show him a weakness and he will exploit it. You genuinely think he doesn’t know how to be different, how to not abuse those effortless skills he trained all those years working for Hydra and surviving it.

“It’s my weekend off,” you tell him instead. “If you get between me and my plans, I will change the locks.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “You think I can’t get through a simple lock?”

Another glare is his answer and he raises his hands in surrender. You walk around him and toe off your own shoes, grabbing everything to take a shower as you shove the rest of your sandwich in your mouth. Bucky slowly strolls through your place and examines everything that belongs to you.

“Can you not pretend like you haven’t completely scanned the place already before I got home?” you ask him as you make way for the bathroom.

“It can’t hurt to have a second look,” he mumbles, but you have already closed the door and move take the shower you’ve been looking forward to the entire day.

You should probably work harder to get him out, should probably make an escape plan and move somewhere else. But you know arguing with him is futile and the best approach with him is to patiently wait for him to move on. Bucky doesn’t get attached and doesn’t nest, so he’ll be gone soon enough.

As the scolding water trickles down your scalp and spine, you realise how much more alert you should have been when you noticed someone was in your home. Especially with all of those loose ends and enemies you have scattered across this planet (and others). Yet, somehow you think your body knew it was Bucky waiting for you. After all, it isn’t the first time he’s pulled this shit, waiting up for you. Usually because you kept something from him, he found out and would start ambushing you to fess up.

And even though technically, you haven’t exactly kept anything from him this time, you can’t ignore the dreadful feeling that explaining your current situation will be the hardest thing to ever speak up about. How pathetic, to try and live a normal life when you’re ‘extraordinary’. Ugh, you hate that word. You’re trained well and you refuse to be anything but good at what you put your mind at.

Now, Bucky. He is extraordinary. He has potential to make a difference. You have always felt that. Hated working with him because of that. Not because of him – he never made you feel less than him at all. But–

The water turns cold and you groan audibly, time having slipped away from you as you got lost in thought. Stepping out and drying yourself off, you get ready to walk out of the bathroom. You’re met with Bucky sitting on your couch, reading one of your books.

“Let me guess, warm water’s gone?” he asks, not looking up from the book.

You walk to your bedroom and shrug, “Cold showers are good for you, I heard.”

“I suppose I’ll take the couch then?” he asks, finally looking up from the book.

You turn back and peek through your doorway at him. “You can take the floor if that’s more comfortable for you.”

“We’ve shared a bed before.”

“Not by choice.”

He smirks, “You liked it.”

“You snore.”

“Sleep tight, sweetheart.” He grins at you.

You make to get to bed when you pause and turn back to him once more with a slight frown. “Why are you so cheerful? Aren’t there people after you?”

“Well,” he says, casual as always, “these may very well be my last days, so I might as well be in a good mood.”

You find yourself swallowing hard and desperately search his face for any intel on how true his statement is, without giving away that you might just care a little bit about his well-being. But his grin stays firm in place and he raises his brows in wait for you to call it a night.

Without another word, you close the door between you and crawl into your comfortable bed. And you wonder why it is that you can’t quite get comfortable this time.

…

A powerful jolt rips through your body as you lift out of layers of sleep. You’re too tired for whatever made you wake up so suddenly. It’s too goddamn late for this shit.

But as you gain more and more of your consciousness, your senses start perking up and you realise you might very well be in danger. The gentle and calm voice calling your name with a warm stroke of a hand down your arm, confirms that for you. That specific type of calm in Bucky’s voice sends your body into overdrive.

“We’ve got to go, sweetheart,” he murmurs and is already throwing clothes onto your bed. “Now.”

You sit up and rub your eyes and it dawns on you after a week of Bucky staying at your place. This man wasn’t going to leave you until he got chased out of your apartment. And that day has come.

“Bucky,” you start with a hoarse voice as you climb out of your warm bed and quickly throw on the clothes he picked for you, “who the fuck is after you?”

He takes his time to answer, pulling two fully packed backpacks from the corner of your room that you surprisingly didn’t know he hid there. Oh, this man is going to get an ear full about this bullshit.

“Some weird underground cartel that deals in tech or something,” he grumbles and throws you a pack. You are nearly too slow to catch it before you sling it onto your back. You gape at him after his answer and his face stays solemn as he pushes a hand gun into your hands. “Let’s go.”

“Bucky.”

He stops and turns to you fully. “It’s bad, okay? I’ll tell you later.”

“No. Tell me now.”

He groans out your name, peeking outside while he impatiently chews on his lip. “Don’t do this right now. You can be pissed at me later!”

“I will be pissed at you now,” you seethe, “and later. How about that?!”

He sighs and then grabs your arm, giving you a boyish grin before shooting two bullets through your window, breaking the glass, slinging an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him and jumping out of the fucking window with you clinging to him. It’s only when you fly about five stories down, that you realise the two of you are attached to a bungee rope that eases your descent. His feet touch the ground first, yours following. He cuts the rope and grabs your hand before he starts running towards the parking lot beneath your building.

“Bucky, you piece of shit!” you yell at him as you run, hearing the faint sound of gun fire behind you over the sound of your ragged breathing.

“I’ll make it up to you!” he simply yells back.

You can hear the smile in his voice. And the worst thing? You feel yourself smiling as well when you realise how easily you’ve slipped back into being his partner in crime.

…

Bucky checks one more time, his gleaming metal hand pulling the sheer curtain aside to peer out onto the dark streets. You hear some shouting coming from outside and still feel your heart pounding, even when you know you have definitely outrun those people coming after you. You hate how out of practice you are. And how much you missed the adrenaline of being on the run with Bucky.

He turns back to you and finds you with your arms crossed, glaring at him. Oh, you know the perfect way to let out this adrenaline. There might be actual steam coming out of your ears.

Bucky cringes and slowly strolls over, already reaching out his hands to use his irresistible charm on you. Like the time he dropped the cake you made one afternoon and tried to make it up to you. Or that time he left some very important documents in one of the buildings he set on fire. Or the time he accidentally deleted your recordings off the TV when you had been looking forward to watching the next episode for two weeks.

However, your burning eyes stop him dead in his tracks and he opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it and closes his mouth again. A second later, he tries again, “Okay. Give it to me.”

You give him a satisfied, albeit sadistic smile, at his willingness to take your scolding and then, you start yelling. You have no idea what words specifically are rolling off your tongue, but your speech starts somewhere during that first meeting in Bucharest, drifts to your entire time together as partners, how you drifted apart, only for him to show up whenever he pleased, and you continue to how he stood at your door a little over a week ago, to him terrorising your happy little life in Germany… To now.

Your voice rises with every instance you tell him about, fire burning in your core and hands flailing to give your story that much more power (even though you couldn’t stop your conviction if you tried). As the grin on his face grows through your rambling, a metal hand pressing to his lips to stop it from showing too much, you burn even brighter with fury.

Then you stop, breathing heavily. You give him a withering look to get him to start speaking up, because let’s be honest, all the two of you really needed was only just a look.

His shoulders slowly stop shaking and he drops his hand, eyes sparkling like a glass of Prosecco in the light. Devious asshole. “I just– I haven’t seen you this alive in a while. It looks fantastic on you.”

You gape at him like a fish and you wonder if the warmth in your face still belongs to your anger. Though you fear it belongs to quite the opposite. Either way, this man certainly knows how to make you passionate. And you realise he knows what you have been trying to do with your fake little life here in Germany.

“I don’t think you–”

“I’m sorry,” he says and steps forward, his large hands cupping your face as he looks down at you with earnest eyes. “I’m sorry for making your life so goddamn miserable. So tell me how to make it up to you.”

And for all the world, you can tell he means it. Can tell that he will do anything to make it up to you. You can almost feel the squeeze of pain in your own heart when you see the disappointment in his eyes after he realises you didn’t enjoy this as much as he had.

But the worst part is, is that you did. You’ve never felt more alive than with him. Never felt more like you. You wouldn’t necessarily call him an adventurer, maybe he is just a magnet for trouble. But whenever you’re with Bucky, you’ll drop anything for him and you’ll burn like an inferno doing so. He makes you into the best version of yourself and he makes you love the parts about yourself that you have been conditioned to feel guilty about.

You sigh, “I don’t know. Never mind.”

He doesn’t let go though and searches your eyes, his own narrowing in suspicion. “I’m going to make it up to you, you know.”

You cross your arms and give him an unimpressed look. “Yeah? How?”

He smirks and your knees weaken. “I could kiss it better.”

“Shameless flirt,” you huff and roll your eyes as an excuse to break his intense stare on you.

“You’re just too proud to admit that my kisses would make you forgive me,” he prods and your eyes snap back to his. He’s right, that is pride surging in your chest to lunge at him.

“You’ve grown too cocky for your own good,” you sneer at him.

“You like it.”

“I assure you, I don’t.”

“Liar.”

“Manipulator.”

He feigns hurt, “Ouch.”

You huff a laugh with a roll of your eyes, “Such a fragile ego.”

He smirks again and you swallow as you fight to look at his lips. So close to your own. “Now you have to kiss me for forgiveness.”

You can’t help but truly laugh this time, your face still safely tucked in his palms and his brows raise with intrigue at the sound of your laughter.

You tell him, “You are so full of shit.”

His smile fades, his eyes large with earnest and all of a sudden, it’s the man standing before you that sat next to you in that Romanian café. Stripped down, bare, rough, and perhaps a bit vulnerable.

“Let me kiss you,” he says in merely a whisper now.

You fight for your life not to falter to that genuine request and the way he said it. “It won’t make me forgive you,” you say softly, but barely hear your own voice over the increased pounding of your heart in your throat.

“I don’t care,” he murmurs. “Just want to kiss you.”

He doesn’t wait for your permission either, because quite frankly, you most likely gave him a look of permission instantly at that request. His soft lips slot over yours and you could’ve never predicted the depraved moan that resounded in the back of your throat as your mouths meet. Your hands instantly slip into his hair as Bucky’s hands slide around your waist to pull you closer, fingers digging into your flesh possessively.

The kiss deepens when his tongue meets yours and he lets out a groan of his own, a sound so addicting that you instinctively tug on his hair to hear it again. The laugh against your lips is rough as he hauls you closer and changes the kiss. Something more desperate and impatient. Something hot and sweaty and slightly messy. You might be walking as Bucky finds something to press you up against or lay you down on, and you almost squawk in surprise as you fall back onto the double, motel bed.

Though before you can say anything else, Bucky is on you again, his mouth demanding and greedy against yours. His hands feel and grab and squeeze every inch of you and you grind your hips upward for his weight. You want his heaviness between your hips and on your stomach and against your chest.

Growing impatient, convinced that Bucky’s brain might no longer be working, you lock your ankles around his hips and pull him down between your legs, sighing a groan of relief at the feeling of him tucked against you so warmly.

“God dammit,” he grunts and gives one luxurious roll of his hips against yours, making you whine as your pulse hammers down in your core.

His mouth grazes against your neck now and you can hardly breathe, panting as if you’ve run a marathon. The pressure between your hips leaves as he moves further down and you buck your hips at the ache he leaves.

“Bucky,” you whimper and look down, heart slamming in your throat at the sight of him. He messily yet gently makes his way down your body. Hands roughly pushing up your shirt as his lips find the plane of your stomach, kissing from your bra, down to your hips that you can’t seem to keep still.

Your body feels so heavy, yet so light without him on top of you and you can’t remember any moment before this kiss. Before five minutes ago. Everything is solidified. Your entire history with him. And Bucky presses a kiss just below your navel that confirms that feeling, his hands peeling off your jeans. That is until he speaks.

“Listen to me,” he orders and you freeze at the sound of him. He’s only sounded like that during missions where either of you might die. So serious and detrimental. “Don’t ever try to build a life without me again.”

“Bucky–”

“No,” he snaps and you close your mouth. “Don’t ever pretend like we don’t exist. Like you and I aren’t supposed to do this shit together, like you are better off without me, like I am better off without you. That’s bullshit.” You give him a questioning look. Where is this coming from? “I’m going to kiss you and you are going to forgive me. And then I am going to kiss you some more.”

He waits then. For you to answer, to process what it is he is saying exactly. It’s a lot of words with a lot of meaning, yet you’re not sure if this is the declaration you didn’t know you were waiting for.

So you speak from your gut and let out a breath, “Finally.”

Bucky smiles at that and surges upward, clearly happy with that intuitive answer. His lips claim yours once again and then you feel his fingers inching up your thigh.

You whine softly against his lips and you feel him smile as his fingers reach your drenched core. Two fingers slip through your folds to explore your wetness and Bucky drops his head into the crook of you neck.

“Finally indeed,” he breathes and slips his middle finger into you, making you whimper and buck your hips.

The stretch against your swollen walls sends an ache through your abdomen that cries out for more. You cannot explain the desperation to have him, to have every empty pit of you filled with his essence. His finger curls up and you throw your head back, making Bucky raise his own head to look at you.

“There?”

You nod frantically and Bucky pushes in another finger, making you tense up around him. He curls that one too and you don’t recognise the sound spilling from your lips. You’re already so fucking full.

As Bucky teasingly darts his thumb over your swollen clit, he traces his tongue over your mouth and you gasp for air at the sensation.

“Bucky, fuck!” you cry and he pushes his mouth to yours in a claiming kiss, his fingers moving faster as his thumb rotates over your clit. You can barely kiss him back, overtaken by pleasure as he pumps his fingers over and over until you can hear your wetness surround his sinful fingers.

It is by far the hottest thing you have ever experienced. So much time has passed and now this beast of a man who tries everything to make you blush with his flirty persona, is bent over you with his fingers peeling your pleasure to the surface like his own fucking release depends on it.

His chest is heaving from watching you, brows pulled together, eyes dark as they rake over you hungrily, muscles flexing as his hand disappears between your legs.

His leg slips beneath your knee and pulls your leg up to finger you in a different angle and your nails bury themselves in the muscles of Bucky’s neck, abdomen flexing at the wave of pleasure that courses through you. “More. Oh my God, more!”

“I know, I can feel it,” he grunts and slows his fingers. “But I’ve waited ages for this. I refuse to let it be over so soon.”

Your brain is nothing but cinders and you shake your head violently, “No! No, please. You can have everything, just let me come. Please.”

Bucky pecks your lips. Once. Twice.

“You want to come all over my hand, pretty girl?” he murmurs in your ear and you can only gasp at the press of his fingers against your spot. “Can I lick you up after?”

You clench around him like a vice, his low voice making you drip onto his palm, his words incinerating what is left of your pride. You can only nod, so you do. And his hand starts moving again. Faster, deeper, more thorough. You keep nodding, your moans raising, your pleasure retreating like a snake ready to strike. Oh God, oh God, oh God–

“Come.”

Your hips fly to the ceiling when you come, thighs trembling and closing around his hand. Bucky keeps moving and thrusting and curling until he has wrung all of your pleasure from your body and you feel like you’re made of jelly. Your voice is hoarse from yelling your release and the sheets below are drenched with your desire.

Soft kisses are pressed to your face and that is how you return from whatever plane of existence you went to. His gentle laugh makes you shiver and you open your eyes to find him licking his fingers like there is caramel dripping from them. You swallow hard and zero in on that action, making his eyes sparkle.

But something changes when you reach up to stroke his hair and his eyes flutter. Your eyes rove over his face in admiration and your entire soul sighs at the sight of him. Bucky looks down at you curiously and cocks his head.

“What is it?” he asks and you chew your lip, trying to find the words.

“You and me, huh?” you murmur with something like wonder in your voice. Bucky can only nod. You continue, “Who would’ve thought…”

Bucky leans down and kisses you. Soft, slow, deep. It makes your body sing. And he shuffles back to make himself at home between your legs. Though as he does that, he remains his focus on kissing you. Deeper, more, desperate. Depraved. He moans and breathes and you swear you hear him whimper, his hips grinding over your oversensitive cunt as he gets lost in kissing you.

Raking your nails over his scalp, you once again wrap your legs around his hips and pull him down. And if Bucky hadn’t snapped his leash just yet, this does it. He turns wild and passionate and heavy. One hand of his and one hand of your own both reach down, messily working together to get rid of his jeans. He shimmies out of them, not bothering to get rid of them entirely, but bothering to at least take off his shirt.

Your fingers drag down his pecks and abdomen, trying to memorise every curve and edge with what little brain capacity you have left. You feel like no more than a flame, no more than passion and want and need. And when Bucky slides his bare cock through your folds to slicken himself, you shudder so violently, your breath shudders with it.

“Woman, you are going to kill me,” he breathes and nips at your lips.

You almost growl with impatience, “Then fuck me and die already.”

He laughs, bold and happy, before thrusting into you in a long stroke. Home. Oh fuck, he’s home. Both of you freeze, taking in the moment of being fused together before he slowly pulls out and out and out. And sliding back in with an agonizing thrust.

Something in you clicks. Something so vital, so necessary. And Bucky feels it too.

“Yes,” he groans and presses another kiss to your lips, like he can’t get enough. “This is it.”

You nod and close your eyes in pleasure. In relief. You shudder with emotion and clamp onto him. Bucky keeps pressing kisses to your skin. Your neck, your lips, your cheek, temple, forehead.

“This is it,” you choke out and Bucky smiles. “You’re it.”

Bucky breathes a sigh, as if he’s been waiting ages for you to admit it. “Finally.”

Infinity War.

Biting your lip and bouncing your leg, you try to let the rumble of the swift jet calm your nerves. Your eyes search the cabin and go over the confusing screens for the thousandth time.

“Nervous?” Natasha’s sensual voice sounds next to you and you force a smile.

“Why would I be nervous?” you ask and smirk at her. “We’re only stepping into a war with the probability of us winning being like…” Zero? Less than zero? You sigh, “I don’t want to think about that.”

She bites back her own smirk and raises her eyebrows. “Wasn’t talking about the war. Are you nervous about seeing him?”

Bucky.

You glare at her after quickly glancing around to see if anyone heard her, making Natasha try even harder to hold back a smile.

Yes, you were nervous to see him. So much had happened. So many aspects of your spy work had suddenly intermingled and now you are fighting along with the Avengers. Even after you were sure they had torn themselves apart over Bucky. Being caught in the middle of that had put you and Bucky’s relationship –if you could even call it that– so far to the back of both your minds, you barely had time to mention it to anyone until Steve shipped him off to Wakanda to get some real help.

You and Bucky were over before it even started and you think that maybe it’s for the better. Neither you nor Bucky are any good at that relationship shit anyway. It showed over and over.

Luckily enough, you’d found plenty of distraction being on the run with Sam, Natasha and Steve. No Bucky in sight, but knowing he was safe and taken care of. Private mission after mission with other people you cared about, people who didn’t know about you and Bucky, one of them eager to forget about Bucky himself.

You barely gave it any thought.

Except you thought of Bucky every day.

And now you get to see him again. However, if any time would make you reconsider any commitment at all, it would be now.

“No,” you answer and then turn serious. “I mean, I was. But now I’m just preparing myself for either grief, or death.”

“Are those our only options?” she asks with a displeased frown. “Why not prepare for victory or somethin’?”

Giving her a long and hard stare, you sigh deeply. “Yeah. You’re right. If I die, I might as well die hopeful.”

“That’s my girl,” she grins and you bump her shoulder with yours, finding your own smile breaking through.

That’s when Steve gives Sam the coordinates to fly through a barrier and show you the hidden – and beautiful – kingdom of Wakanda. So you ignore every jittery feeling you have in your stomach at possibly seeing Barnes again, and you channel it all into hope.

…

Natasha strokes her hand over your shoulder as you walk up to king T’Challa, who’s flanked by his closest guard and a palace that screams to get you on your knees to worship. You barely hear the conversation the king has with Steve, partly because you’re still in awe of the beautiful place around you.

Now this, this is a refuge.

“How are we lookin’?” Natasha asks from next to you and that’s when you start to pay attention. You’d need a hell of a lot of man-power to win this.

“You will have my Kings Guard,” T’Challa starts, “the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and…”

“A semi-stable hundred-year-old man,” finishes a voice that makes your entire system dysregulate. Oh God, it’s been so long since you’ve heard the warm timber of that voice.

You notice your hands have started shaking and clutch them behind your back, squeezing courage out of them to face your past, as Bucky Barnes walks up to hug Captain America.

“How’ve you been, Buck?” Steve asks and Bucky answers with a heart-stopping smile.

“Uh, not bad,” he answers, “for the end of the world.”

They share another warm look before Steve turns to everyone behind him and then to the king, “Should we prepare?”

A few minutes later, you’re following the king inside with all of his closest guards and your own team, which now includes Bucky. Focusing your eyes on everything around you, you barely notice the large hand slipping around your elbow and pulling you into another hallway.

You know better than to scream for help and you use the momentum to swing the person around and pin them to the nearest wall with a knife to their throat. But the air rushes from you when you stand face to face with Bucky.

“There she is,” he grins and slowly raises his hands in surrender.

You back away slowly and look at him like a gaping fish, your insides pounding and swirling and thrashing as your body heats with adrenaline. It’s him, it’s him, it’s him.

“New arm?” you ask him, your voice coming out surprisingly steady, and he glances at the appendage, flexing his hand between your faces.

“Yeah, you like it?” he asks and he almost sounds like a young boy, genuinely interested in what you think of it, of him.

And you calm. Everything inside of you settles and the heat turns to warmth. Your insides seem to melt with relief and you throw your arms around his neck, almost tipping over until Bucky’s arms automatically slide around your waist to pull your pliant body tightly against his. He’s so big and strong and warm.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he laughs softly and one hand starts to stroke your hair gently as you huff out a sob into his neck. “Oh, sweet girl. You’ve never been sad to see me before.”

You finally pull back and cup his face as he lets you survey him closely, him grinning widely at the worry in your every feature. You breathe, “You’re good. You’re safe.”

He nods and takes your hands, pressing a kiss to your palm. “So are you,” he whispers and you nod.

“Not for long,” you add, deflated.

He gives you a sad smile. “Now, who would we be if we didn’t go down fighting, hm?”

You smile slightly at that. “Back on the same team.”

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and the planet stops turning.

“Finally.”

The Blip.

Another knock sounds and you roll your eyes, throwing on a quick cardigan as you hop over to your door. Unusual, for your quiet, lonely evenings to get interrupted like this. You’re ready to cash in what you can only assume is some complaining neighbour or your awful land lord when you open the door and are met with a familiar face that makes your heart squeeze together.

“Steve,” you breathe.

“Hey.”

You step aside to let him in and take a deep breath.

“Want something to drink?” you ask as you close the door behind him and let him venture into your home. Or, whatever you have tried to turn into your home. It had never been more than the latest home trends and some empty picture frames.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I found you?” he asks and you get a feeling of déjà vu.

But you shake your head with a forced smile, “I left a trace for Natasha to track for emergencies. I know how you found me.” You give him a pointed look and Steve actually has the decency to look slightly apologetic.

That look tells you enough about how much of an emergency this is and you wonder what prompted Natasha to decipher your code and hand your location to the Captain. Maybe he was the one breaking and could use a familiar face. Maybe something turned him awfully worried about you. Maybe-

No.

“Aren’t you mad that Natasha told me?” he asks unsurely and you give him a tight-lipped smile, taking a seat in one of your dining table chairs and ushering for him to do so as well.

“Would you believe me if I said that it’s actually quite nice to see a familiar face after five pretty lonely years?” you refute and he gives you a warm smile.

“It’s good to see you, too, Kid.”

A comfortable silence settles between you two and you fidget with your hands, staring at them intently before raising your face back to Steve. “Why are you here, Cap?”

He lets out a long sigh. “Ever since the Blip,” he starts and you can feel him debating whether to continue, “I never– I didn’t get to tell you how sorry I am about Bucky.”

You freeze and slowly turn your gaze to him. “Okay. Now I am pissed at her.”

“Natasha didn’t tell me,” he quickly assures and you raise a brow at him. “He did.”

You fall quiet at that. “Bucky told you about…”

“What,” he laughs. “Didn’t think you two were serious enough for him to tell his best friend about it?”

You reply with a humourless laugh of your own. “He um– He wasn’t a very committing guy. And I don’t blame him. Why commit to something if you might lose everything all over again?”

The pity in Steve’s gaze feels burning to your skin. “Well, if you’re that scared of losing something, it might be worth committing to,” he says and you find yourself agreeing with the wise bastard.

“Well, I committed and look where I am now,” you huff. “Turns out, he was right all along.”

“Kid–”

“Why are you here, Cap?” you try again, all of a sudden too eager to get rid of him.

It takes a while for him to answer and dread settles low in your belly. When he starts talking, you’ve already started shaking your head. “We have found a way to bring them all back.”

You still. And you stay like that. Seconds. Minutes. Maybe another five years have passed.

“Did you hear what I said?” he tries.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. We figured out a way. Time travel.”

You bark a laugh and give him a pointed glare. However, your vision is already slightly impaired by the tears pooling at your waterline. “Don’t,” you stop him before he continues elaborating. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this in the past five years? That you, or Nat, or even Tony fucking Stark himself would stand at my door and tell me we figured it out? About a million times, Cap. And the more normal this delusional scenario became in my head, the more absurd it seemed to be. And now, you expect me to just believe that nearly five years on the dot, you have figured out a way to return everything to normal?!”

Steve can take it, the sudden outburst of your disbelief. He has definitely encountered a whole lot more scepticism in his life. But his heart breaks a little for you. Bucky had tried to be so casual when he finally told Steve about you, but Steve had caught the sparkle in those hundred-year-old eyes and he couldn’t describe the relief of Bucky having found someone, let alone you.

But now, to see you so far removed from Bucky – from hope. He hates it.

“I waited,” he almost whispers. “Until I was completely sure. We need you for this.”

You blink away your tears and one rolls down your cheek. Steve quickly reaches to catch it and cups your face. A touch normally so very unwelcome, but now you cannot help but bury your face in his palm.

“You’re sure?” you ask, voice breaking.

Steve pulls you in and up to his chest, engulfing you in a tight hug. “Time to bring our best friend back, Kid.”

Time Travel.

You cannot help but smile when you see the handsome brainiac hunched over a laptop near some high-tech stage that you can’t seem to look at too long without talking yourself out of this.

“Hey, Tony,” you say quietly as you walk up and his brown eyes light up when he hears your voice. Stepping away from the screen, he opens his arms wide and pulls you into a tight hug. Another comfortable embrace that you can only breathe in and cherish.

“My favourite spy,” he murmurs and pulls back.

“How are you doing?” you ask him.

He gives you a knowing look. “Oh, you know. Good. Until he showed up,” he sneers with a pointed look at Steve, who simply rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “he has a way of interrupting peace.”

Tony snorts. “Now that, is what I call a paradox.”

You laugh and pat his shoulder, “Pepper and Morgan?”

“They’re wonderful.” He grins, but you can see the fear shining in his eyes and you give his shoulder a firm squeeze.

“Thank you for doing this, Tony.”

He smirks in answer. “I swear, if you and Barnes don’t openly kiss after all I am about to sacrifice, I will find the stones and undo both of your existences.”

You shoot a thunderous glare to Steve, and to Natasha who is walking up behind the Captain. But Tony stops you before you can scold them on their horrible secret-keeping skills, “Pepper told me.”

You grit your teeth.

The Avengers are a bunch of gossips.

The Endgame.

You stumble backward, your sprained ankle and broken ribs somehow only a faint ache over the sight before you. You almost trip over debris, or a body, or just air and you keep blinking to see better or to make it all go away, you don’t know.

He did it. Tony did it. You’re sure you can still feel the snap of his fingers vibrate through your spine. And there he is. Slumped against more debris, half of his face cracked like burnt coal, his suit barely reflecting its original colours. The blue light at the centre of his chest is fading, shuttering and then… it goes dark. With Pepper’s hand over it.

Your own hand barely muffles the sob trying to break through and you stumble over and over again as you back away from that horrible, awful reality. He did it. But at what cost?

You turn around and start jogging. How? You’re not sure. Your body is in no state to hurry. But it’s incomplete. You were barely strong or extraordinary enough to be of any help during the fight, but you tried your best. Helping people in the field, some war medic patching up gushing wounds. You’d cashed some punches and kicks yourself. Dealt them, too.

It was all because you needed to be there. Because you needed to stay alive. Needed to stick around to see him again. And now… Now… You barely survived this, barely made it through. And Tony died. Tony Stark. The chance of him still being out there-

You start running faster. Hobbling and grunting from the pain.

“Bucky,” you voice is raw and frantic, it’s barely a sound as you cry out for him. “Bucky! Bucky!”

Head swinging from side to side, you hope the soldier reveals himself from behind one of the plumes of smoke. Further and further away, you flee from the horrifying scene of whatever is left after Thanos. You need to find him, but you can’t identify anything on this war ground.

If he’s dead. If Bucky is dead–

Your head whips around so fast, your neck might crack, when you’re sure you hear your name. Everything about you goes quiet and you hold your breath like it will make any difference. Slowly, you walk in the direction where you assume the sound came from, but you almost cringe at the idea that you might just be going insane. After all those explosions, your hearing can’t possibly be this sharp.

Though perhaps intuition is at play here, because you’ve always been able to feel him. Always knew it when it was him waiting up for you, or looking for you, or needing you.

“Bucky,” you croak again.

“Here…” It’s so quiet. But you hear it over everything else and follow the echo of the sound.

“Bucky,” you rasp out. “I’m coming!”

And there he is. On hands and knees, struggling to get up. You can only describe your approach as a dive, as you clash onto your wobbly knees and wrap your arms around him. His body instantly stops struggling and falls into your rib cage.

He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.

“Yeah,” he groans. “’M right here.”

You had no idea you were sobbing it to him, but you don’t care as your hands grapple for a better hold of him. He does the same until both of you are kneeling in front of each other, cupping each others’ faces to check for injuries.

“You look pretty all roughed up,” he mutters and you smile through your tears.

“You look awful,” you reply and he chuckles before pulling you into his chest. “But you’re home.”

He shudders and you might actually hear him let out a sob of his own as he tightens his grip on you.

“Finally.”

#SLOW BURNNNN #I looove their dynamic okay #lots of dialogue which we all love #some action and fluff and passion adn efgedksbf i love them ok?! #PLease tell me what you think and if this is maybe too long... #it's a bit intimidating i get that but it's an easy read i promise #ok i love you guys #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #writing #bucky barnes fluff

[viennakarma]

New Year, New Us

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: After you and Max broke up, you've never been on the same place at the same time again. That is, until the New Year's Eve party.

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: Smut, female reader, +18, sex (p in v), unprotected sex, ex!reader, a little possessive reader, spanking, cursing (but in a cool way), a bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Note: not me looking for a GIF that he's not wearing the team kit (there is none). This has been on my docs for a little while. English is not my first language (so please bear any mistake). If you’re my best friend, sophia, look away :)

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“Are you sure he won’t be there?”, you text Alex, your best friend.

While waiting for her answer, you look at yourself in the mirror, checking your makeup, basic due to lack of time, but beautiful nonetheless and the red lipstick gives the whole look a boost. On your body, you wear a set of a mini skirt, and a kind of strapless corset that holds your breasts firmly, giving your look an extra spice. When you went shopping with Alex the day before, she had confirmed that it suited the casual New Year's Eve party the group of friends throws every year.

“Charles confirmed that Max is not in town.” is the response you get from Alex as you wait for the Uber.

It would be really embarrassing if Max was there, because he's the ex you don't want to see under any circumstances. Your separation was difficult, and it almost caused a split in the entire group of friends. Luckily, Max went away for the Formula 1 season, and it wasn't necessary for his friends to choose a side, as he was the one who physically distanced himself from everyone.

Despite everything, he still meets up with friends from the group the few times he's in Monaco in between races, and these outings are the ones you refrain from going to so as not to cross paths with him.

Even though your relationship has collapsed like a house of cards, you and him do your best not to take anything out on your group of friends, you don't talk bad about each other nor impose any “either him or me” choices.

As soon as you arrive at the party, you realize that the “New Year's Eve party with friends” has probably taken on greater proportions. That's what happens when the majority of the group is made up of famous extroverts who make friends so easily. Charles had guaranteed that there would be 30 people at most, but when you enter his apartment, it seems to be at least triple that number.

You look for Alex and your closest group and find them near the small bar, getting drinks. Alex waves as soon as she sees you walking towards them.

She hands you a martini as soon as you catch up to her. Alex hugs you, complimenting your makeup, and you turn to Charles, hugging him, as well as all your other friends. You all toasted together, laughing.

Alex pulls you onto the dance floor, and you both laugh as a Rihanna song comes on. Both of you dance for several minutes until you feel a bit of sweat form on your forehead.

“Shit,” Alex murmurs, immediately stopping dancing. She looks over your shoulder at something behind you.

As soon as you look back, you see Max entering the party carrying a big box of some alcoholic beverage. It's impossible to go unnoticed when he's one of the most famous there. You watch as he smiles when he sees Charles in the crowd, as soon as the two meet, they exchange a friendly hug.

“Sorry, babe. Charles had indeed confirmed that he would not arrive from his trip in time for the party,” Alex justifies herself, but you keep looking in Max's direction. He's talking to Charles when, suddenly, he turns and looks in his direction. His blue eyes bore into yours and you swallow hard. You calculate an escape route for a few seconds, but he looks away and goes back to chatting calmly with Charles.

Alex pulls you away, but you keep looking in Max's direction until she shoves you into another room, which you recognize as the kitchen.

“We can leave if you want, we can find a nightclub or something,” Alex says, capturing your attention again.

“Alex, I'm not going to keep you away from your boyfriend on New Year's Eve just because I can't stand my ex,” You shake your head no. “Besides, if he's so comfortable, I'm not the one who's going to act like I’m not over him.”

“Oh, wow! Girl power, damn it!” Alex yells, opening a cooler on the counter. She pulls out two beers and hands one to you. With a bite of the cap, you quickly open it and after toasting your bottles, you take a giant sip that refreshes you from the heat and makes you more determined.

“That's more like it, now let's get back to the dance floor!” You confirm, with a nod after downing the entire bottle at once. Alex does the same and grabs two more bottles for you and her.

Together, you both return to the dance floor, you and Alex dancing and jumping, screaming the songs at the top of your lungs, as if there was no one else around. When Beyoncé's 6 Inch starts, you two start to dance sensually and sing along. With the song halfway through, you open your eyes feeling other people watching you and notice that they have opened a small circle around the two of you.

The attention only seems to make both Alex and you even more excited. Unintentionally, your eyes meet Max's, and you notice that he, Charles, and practically the rest of the party have their eyes on both of you. You grab Alex's shoulders and pull her close until one of your legs is between hers and one of hers is between yours, her hand goes to your waist, and she smiles as she guides her hips into yours and you both roll your hips.

“I know what you're doing…” Alex whispers in your ear. “He's going to regret ever breaking up with you!” She adds in a conspiratorial tone that makes you laugh

You mumble the lyrics to her and Alex pulls your hand, making you spin so that you stop with your back on her chest, placing you facing Max. You don't find any trace of shame in yourself, maybe whether it's the alcohol and the music, or maybe it's all these people staring at you and Alex with so much lust.

You look into Max's eyes as you dance with Alex's hand running down the side of your hip. His eyes are focused on you as he holds a cup of some drink. At some point, his hand exerts so much force on the cup that the plastic bends, spilling a bunch of drink onto his shirt.

You can't help but laugh when he looks down and mutters a swear word. He turns around and leaves. You continue dancing with Alex for a few more minutes until your feet feel sore and you’re very thirsty. When you sit at your friends' table, Charles serves you fresh cold juice. Max appears soon after, now with his shirt changed.

He sits at the same table as you, of course, because he is part of the group. Max sits on the opposite side of it, facing you. You look away from him when you realize your friends are talking and you decide to join the conversation.

“What happened?” Alex asks when she sees you readjusting the threads on your heels for the third time.

“My heels are killing me” you explain.

“I can lend you a pair of shoes. Do you want it?” Alex offers and you nod, “My stuff is in the guest suite on the first floor, where Charles always keeps our bags. You can take it if you want.”

“Thanks! You’re a lifesaver!”

You get up, crossing the crowd of people drinking, dancing and talking, to get to the stairs. As soon as you go up and reach the first floor, you take off your shoes and walk barefoot to the guest room, feeling relief in the bottom of your feet.

You find Alex’s bag on a dresser, and you rummage through it until you find a pair of white Jordans. You go into the bathroom and wash your face carefully so as not to mess up your makeup, and wet your neck to relieve the heat. After drying off, you go back to the dresser and you’re about to put on the shoes when the door opens and someone turns on the light.

You look up to see Max coming towards you with decisive steps, looking like a man on a mission.

“What are you doing here?” you murmur when he stops in front of you and his height forces you to lift your head to look into his eyes.

“You know what you do to me,” He whispers, his hand touches your face firmly, his hand holding your jaw and part of your neck “You know what I want.”

As soon as he says that, your body betrays you and you feel a wave of goosebumps running up your arms. Still, even with the clear expression of desire on Max's face, he doesn't move forward, just waits for your reaction.

You would be lying if you didn't admit to yourself that you miss him. Almost everyday, you miss the domesticity of your relationship, you miss his eyes looking for yours across any room or being the first thing you see as you wake up, you miss his touch both when it’s rough or when it’s exploratory like he wanted his fingertips to memorize you, his nimble hands and his cock stretching you.

You stand on your tiptoes to close the distance, and it's still not enough to reach him, so you grab the collar of his shirt and pull him down until your lips meet. He kisses you tentatively for a few seconds, and then his arm wraps around your waist and he lifts you off the ground, pressing you against his body while opening his lips to yours to deepen the kiss. When his tongue meets yours, you let out a moan that he captures with his mouth.

Your fingers move up from his shoulder to the back of his neck and you pull his hair hard, thinking it should always be like this. That you both belong in each other's arms.

Then you remember he was the one who ended it. He was the one who dumped you right after going on the new season of Formula 1. Probably to be free to fuck some groupie or something.

You move until he puts you back on the ground, and as soon as you find your balance, you push him so hard that he stumbles back two steps, surprised by your sudden refusal.

The both of you are panting as you sit on the edge of the bed, running your hands through your hair as you try to find your sanity again.

“You did this to us” you manage to say through heavy breathing, “You broke up with me to go on new adventures, and you still have the audacity to talk about me as if I had broken your heart”

“Love…” He starts, the pet name probably a slip out of habit, but that makes you even more furious.

“Don’t fucking ‘love’ me!” you point an accusatory finger in his direction.

Max stands like a statue, panting and his lips are red and a little stained with your lipstick, and his chest is rising and falling. You stare at him not knowing what to do now. Then you look at his face, his eyes closed as if he was trying hard to think, his hair even more messy because of your hands seconds ago. Max takes a deep breath, then he takes a step towards you, and kneels right in front of you.

“I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I should never have done that, I love you and I miss you every fucking day,” He looks up at you, his blue eyes shining in surrender, in a way that leaves you weak. “I'll do anything to win you back,” He says, placing both hands gently on your knees. Max looks at you intently as he gently runs his hand down your leg, until he closes his hand around your ankle. He slowly lifts your leg, as if expecting a negative reaction, and then leaves a kiss on your calf without taking his eyes off you. “Please- I- let me win you back- I’ll do anything you want- Let me be good to you…”

The sigh that leaves your lips is almost involuntary when he kisses a little higher on your calf, and then another one above your knee, followed by a soft bite. You almost let yourself get carried away by the effect of his mouth on you, but then you remember to regain control of the situation.

“With how many people did you have sex with after me?” you ask, and he immediately stops moving to look at you.

“None.” He answers, and you bend forward to hold the back of his neck and you pull his hair hard until he lifts his head with a groan.

“Don't lie to me, it's been eight months, Max. Are you going to tell me you haven’t had sex with anyone?” you ask through gritted teeth, without letting go of his hair. He stares at you firmly when he answers again.

“No one.”

“You swear?” you ask, finally loosening your grip on his hair.

“I swear,” He kisses and nibbles your legs again, as if he doesn't want to leave any part of you untasted. “I- I just- fucked my hand thinking about you.” He whispers against your thigh and you almost don't hear him, he says it so quietly.

He continues moving up, and you gasp as he kisses the space at your waist between the base of your corset and the waistband of your skirt. Each touch seems to send a jolt of pleasure straight into your core, and you do your best not to give in too quickly. You hold Max's face and make him look at you again.

“You have half an hour. Better fuck me hard” you command, and he swallows hard, nodding his head.

You finally let yourself fall back onto the bed as he kisses your body again. He tries to lift the corset, but the fabric is too tight. Then Max pulls the corset down in one motion, just enough to release your breasts from above. As soon as your tits spill out, Max grabs them like he's starving.

You can no longer contain your moans when his hands hold your hips, trying to reach under your skirt and his mouth alternates between licking from the base of your breasts to the tip of your nipples, and taking in as much as he can put in his mouth to suck at once. And you know with how hard he's doing it, you're going to have hickey marks all over tomorrow.

“How does this come out?” He asks, looking like he’s having difficulties with the corset.

“From behind.”

Max leaves your breasts to kiss your neck for a moment and you feel one of his hands reaching between your back and the mattress to try to open it. With an irritated growl, he palms your back. You squeal when, with a quick movement, he pulls your back, rolling you around and turning you face down on the bed. He makes a sound of approval when he finally undoes the corset, takes it off you, and tosses it away. He pulls the zipper on the back of your skirt, but it catches halfway, so he pulls hard and you hear the ripping sound until you feel the fabric loosen on your skin. With a sound of disapproval, you're about to curse Max’s entire lineage, when he cuts you off:

“I'll buy you another one. I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He gasps and soon you feel his hands touching your back and going down until they palm each side of your ass. He squeezes hard and you groan against the mattress, probably making a mess on the bedsheets with your lipstick. “I missed this,” He says, and then he gives your ass a slap that leaves you weak, then another slap on the other side, which makes your pussy throb. He gently massages where he hit on your asscheeks.

“Are you going to stand there admiring or are you going to ‘win me back’?” you say in a sarcastic voice when you look over your shoulder and Max is kneeling between your legs, staring at your ass like it's the Eighth Wonder of the Modern World.

“You're very bossy, you know that?” He says with a soft smile. He pulls your panties down to your knees.

“And you are complaining too much for someone who is on probation,” you keep looking over your shoulder and see how he takes his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, sucking on them to moisten.

“Probation, eh?” He says, getting closer to you.

“Yeah, or do you think you can get back this easily into my life?” You scoff.

You stop looking when his hand disappears between your legs, and you feel his touch gently on your pussy. You grip the sheet expectantly, as he presses your clit and you moan against the sheets again. When his fingers penetrate you, you start to move your hips, following the friction of his long fingers.

Max knows your body like no one else, the bastard, and you feel embarrassingly close to orgasm in just a few minutes of stimulation. You hear the indecent noise of how wet your pussy makes his fingers every time he moves them in and out, massaging your G-spot with infuriating precision. When your pussy clenches against his fingers, you try to do something, anything, to delay the orgasm.

Without stopping his movements, Max bends over you, kissing the back of your neck, then he approaches your ear and whispers:

“I’ve got you, pretty baby”

You want to curse him for the power of this pet name in your ear but your mind simply explodes into a thousand fireworks when you finally come, still leaning over feeling Max's lips on the back of your neck. He keeps his fingers in you for a few seconds as you try to recover from the orgasm.

When Max moves away and you feel his weight leave the bed, you roll over so your back is to the mattress so you can see him. He gets rid of his clothes very quickly, and your mouth is practically watering seeing him completely naked.

“Are you sure?” Max asks, fisting his member before going back to bed.

“So sure, baby” you say, with one finger raised, you make a “come here” gesture. He starts to climb onto the bed, “And as I’m feeling merciful today, I will ride you just the way you love” As soon as Max is hovering over you, you push him until he falls back onto the bed, rolling over him and getting on top.

Moving your hair out of the way, you crawl down until you’re between his legs, holding the base of his perfect cock. You lick him from bottom to top, from his balls to his cockhead and his hips jerk with the contact.

“Love, please” He interrupts you, grabbing your face and pulling you on top of him. “If you blow me, I'll cross the finish line too soon.”

“Now, this is the first time this is a problem for you,” you tease him, letting a bead of saliva drop onto his cock which makes his little giggle turn into a groan.

“Baby, please, I need to be buried into you”

With a laugh, you do as he asks, and sit on his lap, pressing his length between the two of us and sliding your pussy over him, your wetness indecent.

“You're trying to kill me, woman,” He says in a tense voice. You watch the head of his cock disappear between your lower lips as you grind against him and more groans leave his throat.

You lift your hips enough to hold his cock and position it at your entrance. From top to bottom, you slide his length inside you slowly, and it takes some time for you to be able to fit him inside you completely. His girth is something above average, and the eight months since your breakup that you've been in a drought require you a minute to readapt to his size.

You let out a moan when you finally bring your hips together and feel overwhelmed by his size. You place both hands on Max's chest for balance and dig your nails into his pale skin. You lift your hips just a few inches and sit back down, the friction making you both moan so loudly that for a moment you worry you might be heard. Then you remember that the party is in full swing downstairs, and the music is loud enough that you don't need to worry.

Max's two hands hold your ass and you start to move with more rhythm, going very high before coming back down with everything, pushing his cock inside you. His lips are parted and you bend down to kiss his chin and neck.

“You are mine,” Something possessive inside you makes you say that. Max looks at you completely surrendered. “Do you understand?” He nods. You leave a hickey on his shoulder that makes him contract deliciously inside you and mark him as yours. You increase the speed of the rise and fall of your hips, your moans matching his.

Max gives up his control fully and just lets you ride him the way you want, his moans getting louder and louder by the second. He stretches you so well that your toes curl, and Max presses his hand on your lower belly, the pressure makes you feel something completely different as your eyes roll back in pleasure.

Your knees weaken and Max takes the opportunity to reverse your positions again, placing you on your back on the bed as if he were impatient. Without disconnecting your bodies, he reaches for a pillow and places it under your hips to lift you a bit in the new position. He put your thighs over his where he is kneeling between your legs. Max pushes into you slowly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. Your head drops back when he goes all the way in, his hips meeting yours until there is no space in between.

“Max! Oh fuck- oh-” you practically scream, pinching your own nipples to find some relief, “Oh my God!

In the new position he presses deep into your G-spot and you know you won't last much longer. His hands hold your hips even tighter and he lifts practically half of your body off the bed to thrust into you hard enough to make your head bounce on the bed.

There's nothing you can do but surrender to the pleasure that's building inside you with the way Max manipulates your body, holding onto his forearms for dear life, probably leaving some nail marks behind.

Max puts you back on the pillow, one hand he flattens on your stomach to keep you in place, and the other he presses his thumb to your clit. From then on, it's a lost cause. It's a matter of minutes before the orgasm that has been building for the second time erupts.

Your brain blackouts for a second as he pushes you off the cliff, and your hip shakes so hard that you thank God you're underneath, otherwise you would have fallen. Your pussy spasms also make Max cum soon after. Panting, he pulls out and falls on top of you, his head against your chest.

You lay like that trying to catch your breath for long minutes without saying anything, one of Max's hands running up and down your side and your fingers playing with his hair.

You still haven't said anything when you get up and go to the bathroom to clean up. When you’re putting on your panties, you remember Max destroyed your miniskirt. You gather the fabric from the floor and fold it.

“I'm sorry about the skirt,” Max finally breaks the silence, giving you the button-down shirt he was wearing earlier. As soon as you put your arms through the sleeve, Max fastens the buttons for you. you end up wearing the bustier over the shirt, like these it girls do and the final look isn't so bad. Max puts on another outfit and looks for a new shirt in a backpack that you know belongs to one of your friends.

When you’re both dressed, you leave the room still unsure of what to say. Max holds your hand, stopping you from walking any further.

“How are we now? Will you give you another chance?” he asks, sounding anxious. You realize you haven't given him a complete answer yet, which is why he seems uncertain like this. You rise on tiptoe, and bring your lips closer, holding his neck.

“I said you're mine, didn't I?” you whisper against his lips. You leave a quick peck on his lips and pull away.

But this time he doesn't let go of your hand, he just keeps holding on, tightly as you walk down the stairs back to the party, just in time for the countdown to New Year's Eve.

When you arrive at your friends' table, they start shouting and applauding when they see that you are holding hands.

“You guys are back together?” Alex asks, hugging Charles, over the voices of people counting down from 20.

“Max is on probation, if he behaves, we'll get back together,” you say with a playful tone and everyone laughs.

Max wraps his arms around your waist and you two join the countdown.

5, 4, 3, 2… 1!

“Happy New Year, Max!” you shout, over the voices of everyone celebrating the new year. He holds your face with both hands and looks at you as if you were his entire world, his blue eyes shining with deep feeling.

“I love you,” He whispers in your ear, before pulling you to sit on his lap and placing a kiss on your lips. He clings to you like he is afraid if he let you go, you will leave again.

"I love you too, pretty baby," you whispered back, laughing as his face went red.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #formula 1 #formula one

[wingzie]

Jikook and the Importance of Photos

Photographs are special. They map out our lives through precious memories. They leave a footprint in time that can forever be part of our history. These glimpses of our past, make us who we are and show what or who is important to us. They are full of so much love and emotions, even more so when they are shared with those most trusted to us. This goes for every photo shared by the members.

 I personally think it’s amazing that we can tell when a photo of Jimin is taken by Jungkook, there’s a certain style to it and it comes across even at a glance. One of my favourite photos of Jimin by Jungkook is this one:

This photo was taken from the behinds of Life Goes On. Each MV was beautifully directed by Jungkook, and it’s hard to miss the references made from within their old dorm. I know Jungkook isn’t keen on photos but, just like during GCFT, Jimin is looking at Jungkook and not the camera here with that smile. With that one look, that we are so familiar with, we can trace every single moment within their history which has that same shining expression. It tells a story over time, but also that one photo itself is so telling in the way that it was captured. One of my favourite photos of Jungkook by Jimin is this one:

There’s something raw and delicate in this photo.You can see it in Jungkook’s eyes. Each item in the photo tells its own little story, from the Birthday cake to the polaroid photos on the table that we never saw. This photo is all we saw from the night of Jungkook’s Birthday in 2019 and sometimes I am reminded that with these glimpses into their lives, there are still so many moments of theirs that we are unaware of. For example, Jungkook had a hickey on his neck during MOTS:Online and none of us had any idea until the DVD Behinds came out. 

For every selca or video that Jikook has shared with us, it shows a part of them that we are so lucky to witness. To be able to watch their growth over the years is magical and something I will always cherish. Why am I going on about photos and memories though?  Because they give so much of themselves to us and I will never take it for granted, nor expect them to give more to us than they want to. Some of their memories are for them only, but we can still hold dear what we know already…

Some of you know this already, but I have been caring for my Mother lately. Over the last few months, her memory has worsened. In an attempt to help, we play memory games and repeat simple tasks together. However, her memory is something that cannot be simply fixed with such methods. I had the idea to get out family photos, until I realised that we had stopped taking them when my parents divorced. It’s made me more proactive in archiving things that I do each day. Every little thing I see or hear, I note it down or save the song. In a way, it’s also how I associate with BTS or Jikook. When the BTS World soundtrack came out, I was having a really bad day and it gave me a lot of comfort. I smile whenever I hear Pied Piper because it’s one of my friends favourite songs. Any time I hear “Jungkookie” or “Jimin-ssi”, a barrage of memories come to the front of my mind and I grasp onto all of them whilst I still can. 

I'm sure it's not just me who does this either, Jimin and Jungkook probably do this themselves. You could see that when Jungkook was watching Jimin’s compilation with us. He was recollecting the same memories as us, but he also has access to an entirely different set of memories that we don’t know of. We also saw that with the way Jimin and Jungkook both explained the Rainy Day Fight. During the Festa video, Jungkook mentioned “rainy day” and expected Jimin to understand what he meant. Later on, Jimin and Jungkook gave their own versions of what happened in their separate lives. They both more or less experienced the same thing, but blamed themselves for their actions and not the other. 

They love adding to their own collections of memories. Every single time that Jimin watched Jungkook rehearse and the other way around, enough so that they could probably be a backup dancer. All the clips they have but haven’t shared. The moments we don’t find out until later, the inside jokes they have without context. We don’t understand, but that doesn’t matter. Only they have to and we just watch and smile. Their memories are a huge part of them, it’s what makes their bond so special.  

#jikook #wingzie #jikookmemories #jikookphotos

[mandobatemans]

glasses (Steven Grant x fem!reader)

A/N: just a little blurb inspired by steven's glasses bc they make me feral

word count: 844

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

also posted to ao3

Whatever volume of his Steven was poring over was probably very important, something for work or his personal interest. What was very important to you at the moment was the way his glasses fell on the bridge of his nose, the way he would every so often bite his lip, getting lost in his thoughts, or the way his tongue danced over his lips to wet them. If it were Marc or Jake, they'd know exactly what their actions were doing to you. But this was Steven. Your sweet, sweet Steven who had no concept of just how sexy every single thing he did was. He could roll up his sleeves a certain way and you'd be crawling out of your skin ready to jump him and be totally unaware. You loved that about him, but right now, all you wanted was for him to put the book down and study you on his desk instead.

He would follow the words on the page with his finger, your eyes trailing the movement from across the room. You had planned to walk to the park together and work on your separate activities while sharing a bench, like you often did, but the rain had other ideas. Your activity was long forgotten, thrown to the side in favor of watching Steven, but he was still engulfed in his, eyes devouring every word on the page except for every so often when he would stop to make a note.

He touched his finger to his tongue, wetting the digit to help him in turning the page. This by itself would have set you off, but coupled with the fact that he had looked up and smiled at you while doing so, totally unaware of the thoughts racing through your head, had you rushing across the room to him.

“Y’alright, love?” Steven asked, looking up at you over his glasses.

You nodded, eagerly, maybe too eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, ‘m fine.” You shifted your weight back and forth, unsure how to bring up the fact that you wanted him to pin you down and fuck you within an inch of your life.

Steven had closed his book and taken his glasses off, setting them down on the desk so he could better focus on you. “Are you sure? You look a bit jumpy.”

“Mhm, I just–” You paused when you saw Steven pause. He had the expression on his face that came when Marc or Jake were speaking to him.

When he returned to you, there was a faint blush on his cheeks. His eyes darted between you and where he had set his glasses.

You smiled inwardly, knowing one of the other boys had filled him in on what exactly had you so jumpy.

Steven stood, picking up his glasses and placing them on the bookshelf behind him.

“What are you doing?”

“One moment, darling,” he said, picking up the stacks of books cluttering his desk and moving them to the couch you had been sitting on earlier. Once he had moved them all, he lifted you up onto the desk where the books had been, slotted his body between your legs, and crashed his lips into yours.

You welcomed the feeling of him on you, the familiar heat of his tongue pressing into your mouth, and the weight of his body against your own. You grasped a hand in his hair and welcomed the moan he let out that was lost in between kisses.

- - - -

He had you on your back, both legs thrown over his shoulders, taking you apart with his tongue. Steven was gentle, and that's what was so tantalizing about it. No matter the pace he went, he always coaxed an orgasm out of you, if not multiple. And they were always mind-blowing.

As he licked inside of you, tongue curling the way his fingers would, his nose rubbed against your clit, still wet from the attention he had given it moments before. Steven liked to watch you come undone, partly because he loved looking at you, and partly so he could memorize every single expression you made as a result of his actions. He held your hand when you came, something he liked to do no matter what position you were in. It was sweet and intimate, a ritual during sex that you became accustomed, and even looked forward to, with Steven.

He rose from between your legs, hovering his body over yours so he could press kisses to your neck and shoulders. “You did so good, sweet girl.” Steven helped you sit up and readjust so your hips were almost hanging off the desk. He pressed his forehead to yours, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “Can you take some more?” He asked, hand coming up to caress your cheek.

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his palm, but interrupted him while his other hand went to undo his belt. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong, love?”

You pointed to the bookshelf, and his eyes followed your finger. “Put the glasses back on.”

#my fic #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight x reader

[drabblesandimagines]

Hitched

Leon Kennedy x fem reader, established relationship Couple of swears, mentions of blood

The sudden noise behind you sends you spinning on your heels to confront it. Your pistol is raised, finger slightly squeezing the trigger in preparation to blow the next monstrosity’s head off only to see Leon’s alarmed face, his hands up in surrender, gun dangling from his grip.

“Whoa, baby, it’s just me.”

You exhale in relief, immediately dropping and holstering your weapon. “Sorry – jumpy. You okay?”

You look him up and down, looking for injuries after you’d been separated a little while ago. It felt like every other mission these days led to the two of you working your way through underground caverns, as evil scientists seem to just love setting up their bases there, with ill-maintained wooden walkways that collapsed below your feet. Leon had gone toppling down the last one, reassuring you he was fine - he did always manage to forward roll his way out of taking any impact – and said by the map he’d pilfered from one of the supply rooms, it looks like your paths would cross again eventually and it meant the two of you could cover more ground until then.

“I’m fine. You, however…” He steps forward, grasps you by the elbow and pulls it up gently in front of you to reveal a nasty slice across your forearm, dripping blood on the dirt.

“Slashed out at me as I took it out. Misjudged the space. I blame the moody lighting.” You joke, but Leon doesn’t respond, inspecting the damage.

“I’m okay. We should keep moving, we can’t be far from-”

“Uh-uh. Come on, there’s an alcove just back this way to provide us some cover whilst I see to this.” His grip is still firmly on your elbow as he tugs you back the way he emerged from.

“I promise I’m fine.”

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna leave a blood trail if we don’t. Besides, as your fiancé, I insist.”

The fiancé card is not one that Leon pulls out often on a mission, but has started to do so considering how long your engagement has been. He’d proposed two years ago, literally the moment he got you within eyesight as he returned from a solo mission to Spain to rescue the President’s daughter. He didn’t have a ring – later rectified – but just dropped to his knees and asked you to become his wife. It wasn’t like you hadn’t started wedding planning. There was a folder of brochures under the coffee table, half-drafted emails to venues and caterers on your laptop, saved photos of wedding gowns and centerpieces… But it just felt impossible to ever truly put a plan in place, nail down a concrete date, you didn’t know where the two of you were going to be one month from the next. Sorry, terrorism, could you wait a week or two for the Kennedy wedding to pass first?

“Okay.” You concede and allow him to guide you back a few hundred metres to the alcove – it’s more a deep crevice in the wall, but it won’t be obvious the two of you are hiding in there if anyone or anything was to stroll by.

“Sit.” He points to the space furthest back and you drop down, crossing your legs beneath you so he can crouch down in front. You lay your wounded arm out in front of you with a slight wince. If you were being honest, it did hurt.

“Here, chew this. It’ll make you feel better.” He passes you one of those stupid green herbs from his supplies. The man swears by them as a natural pain reliever – useful in a bind, he claims.

“Ugh, really? But they’re so bitter.” You shake your head, “I’ll be fine without.”

He quirks his eyebrow at you, pulling out a roll of gauze from one of his pouches to begin to dress your wound. “Sweetheart, either you chew it, or I will go mamma bird on your ass, chew it for you and then kiss you so hard you’ll have no other choice but to swallow.”

You laugh, dryly. “I think that might be the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Chew.”

Again, you concede. Leon won’t stop at anything to ensure you’re taken care of. As his gentle fingers begin to wrap the bandage tightly around your wound in an effort to stem the bleeding, you crunch the herb between your teeth. It’s scratchy, horrendously bitter, makes you want to gag almost. You can’t chew fast enough to get rid of it. He is right about them, though – a moment or two later the stabbing, stinging pain in your forearm where the creature slashed you dulls to a low, much more tolerable ache.

He has a smug look on his face, knowing your tells too well.

“Told you it would make you feel better.”

He finishes wrapping the gauze around your arm and ties it off with a tight knot, slicing the excess off with his knife. He puts away the roll before he turns and sits down besides you, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest, kissing your crown. You can feel his heart pounding beneath your cheek – he was worried about you. He knows you can take care of yourself, you’ve been through as much hell as he has, but seeing you injured always sets him off.

You know you should press on – BOWs wait for no man - but it’s clear the two of you need a moment to catch your breath, take stock of what’s occurred, work out how you’ve ended up here - again.

You begin to fiddle with the engagement ring that hangs around your neck. Too much risk wearing it on your finger when out on missions, but it felt odd and wrong to leave it at home on your dressing table, so you’d settled for having it like this, tucking it away on a chain out of sight, but playing with it had soon turned into a nervous habit.

Leon clocks your fidgeting immediately and takes your hand, lacing his fingers through. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing. Just… thinking.”

“About?” He probes, gently.

“What we’re doing here.”

“You forget the brief?” Leon teases and you elbow him lightly in the stomach – not that you’d manage much damage given how muscular he is.

“Like, is this just our life now? Every couple of months, another set of BOWs appears, we deal with and eliminate - rinse and repeat.”

“I…” He sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I hope not. I’d like to think that one day we stop them all and we get a pretty sweet retirement package.”

“I want to get married.” You say, softly.

“Hey, I’m the one who did the proposing, you’re the one who said you wanted to wait until-”

“I know, but I don’t want to wait anymore. I can’t keep holding off for a big event that I’m not sure we’ll ever get to have.” You pause a moment as you sit up, turning to face him head on. “The second we are out of here, I want to marry you.”

“Seriously?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Seriously. Registry office. We’ll wear what we’re wearing – blood splatters, camos, bruises, all of that. I don’t care. I just want to be your wife already.”

“My wife, huh?” He grins at the idea. “Yeah, I want that too. I can’t lie, though, I was looking forward to seeing you in a wedding dress.”

“You will. We’ll do that later – a party or whatever, something that can be rescheduled easy enough if the world goes to shit. But this, this can just be us, huh?”

“Just us, baby.” He places a hand on the side of your face and guides you in for a heated kiss, teasing your bottom lip with his teeth until you permit his tongue entrance and the wrestle for dominance begins. After a moment or two, you place your palm flat on his chest and push back.

“We’re getting distracted, Leon.”

“We sure are.” He gets to his feet and offers you his hand, pulling you up with ease. “Come on, let’s go kill these bastards and get hitched.”

“Took the words outta my mouth, handsome.”

--

“Okay, Leon said it was casual, but I didn’t picture this casual.” Hunnigan appears behind you in the restroom mirror, dressed in her usual work suit, albeit with a paper bag in hand. Leon had radio’ed in as soon as your objective was clear – DSO teams swooping in to clear up and confiscate and destroy the weapons retrieved – and asked Hunnigan to get them into the registry office today.

“Yeah, we were going for work casual, but we had to leave the weapons in the SUV.” You shrug, washing the grime off your face in the sink. You supposed you should at least prep that much. “Thank you for getting us in.”

She shrugs, “It was one of Leon’s easier requests, funnily enough.” She holds the bag in front of her in offering. “For you.”

“Just me?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t think Leon will like it as much.” You take the bag with a smile and place it down on the counter to open it – a small bouquet of white daisies within.

“Just so I can catch the bouquet, obviously.”

--

Hunnigan acts as the witness, of course, as you find yourself standing in front of the officiant. He barely batted an eyelid at your attire and you think he must’ve seen all sorts come through the door in his time, so the couple who decided to get married in tactical gear, bruised and bandaged, is just another day.

“Do we have rings?” The officiant questions and before you can say no, Hunnigan steps forward again, handing over a box.

“Should’ve known you’d have our ring sizes on file.” Leon laughs.

“Had a suspicion it might come in handy one day.” She smiles, taking her place back in a seat behind the two of you. The officiant opens the box to reveal two simple gold wedding bands.

Leon takes your hand then – his leather gloves removed for the occasion – and smiles. He’s got a bruise blossoming on his left cheek, his hair’s a beautiful mess, but he’s here and you’re here and it’s perfect.

“If you’ll repeat after me.” The officiant looks at Leon, who continues to look lovingly at you, biting his lip in an excited smile. “I, Leon Scott Kennedy…”

He wets his lips with his tongue and squeezes your hand. “I, Leon Scott Kennedy….”

The vows are over before you know it. You feel giddy, a combination of exhaustion and love, surely.

“I pronounce you husband and wife. It gives me great honour to introduce to you,” he looks at Hunnigan, “the new Mr and Mrs Kennedy. You may now kiss the bride.”

Leon doesn’t hesitate, pulling you in close and into a bruising kiss, dipping you back a little before returning you to your feet. “Just a little show for our guest.” He whispers in your ear, nodding his head over at an applauding Hunnigan.

“Dare I ask about honeymoon plans?” Hunnigan comments as the three of you exit the registry office. “I’m expecting the two of you back in HQ tomorrow for a debrief, after all.”

“I don’t know. Any ideas, beautiful?” Leon brings up your hand to his mouth, placing a kiss across your knuckles, the gold band sitting snugly on your ring finger.

“Yeah, I have one.” You nod. “I wanna burger – a real greasy one – and fries. And a beer.”

“I knew there was a good reason I married you.” He drops your hand and wraps his arm around your waist and slips another under your knees, sweeping you off your feet and into his arms and you squeal.

“Gotta carry my beautiful wife over the threshold of the nearest diner, don’t I?”

You grin. “That is the tradition. Oh, and speaking of traditions…” You toss the bouquet over Leon’s shoulder into Hunnigan’s arms. “Look who’s next!”

“On second thought…” she walks over to you and places them back into your hands, “keep it. I might as well wait for the redo. See you tomorrow, lovebirds. As a wedding gift, I won’t expect you in until the afternoon.”

“Too kind, Hunnigan.” Leon smirks as she waves over her shoulder and heads towards the parking lot.

Once she’s out of sight, you grab the back of your husband’s head, pulling him down into a chaste kiss and smile up at him. “I love you, Leon.”

“I love you too, Mrs Kennedy.”

--

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[thebadboyfanclub]

Don’t Say It (Tywin x Reader)

I know I disappeared for a little but I hit a writers block with this one, I think it’s due to exhaustion over me working full time so I hope @thanyatargaryen forgives me if this wasn’t what you intended. Enjoy

Olenna Tyrell was a legend, she had learned the rules by heart and was now on a mission to pass them down to her wonderful granddaughters, the beautiful rose that listened to the name of Margaery and the bewitching siren that could stop a man with a simple song, the young (y/n).

Olenna was no fool, she recognized that the two girls were her strongest soldiers, with these two alone she could rule all of Westeros, well at least all the men which was the same thing.

“Today is an important day, even for you dearest, the wedding of your sister to the king means every eligible lord from all of the seven kingdoms will be attending”

“I am well aware, you do not have to worry about me, grandmother”

(Y/n) reassured olenna whilst her handmaidens assisted her with the finest dress anyone had ever seen, it was her first time at court she needed to look her best, (y/n) squeezed into a dress that was custom made, her hair had taken hours and was brushed to perfection and she smelled of the finest of fragrance oils that were brought from Dorne, it is safe to say that (y/n) couldn’t have looked nor smelled better.

Everyone’s breath hitched at their throats when (y/n) walked with the confidence only a Tyrell could possess, she strutted up to her big sister to wrap her arms around Margaery with clear endearment.

“Congratulations, my queen”

“Oh come on now stop with that”

“I know this is a blessed day for the king but could he be so kind and hear a plea I have for him?”

“Anything for my good sister”

“Look after my dear Marge, as she has done for me”

(Y/n)s voice was as sweet as strawberry cakes and her smile could stop a man dead in his tracks, the young Tyrell leaned on her big sister pressing her chin on Margaerys shoulder whilst the bride leaned her head close to (y/n) as well, the girls shared a strong bond, it was the first time that they would be separated ever since (y/n) was born.

What they did not know was that a certain someone had already his blue set of eyes on the lovely Tyrell who seemed so blatantly unaware of it all, Tywin had sworn to never remarry, no one would ever be as good as his dearest Joanna, she was the one that knew him like the back of her hand, the lady that could wrap her arms around the vicious lion and make him swoon, if she saw him now she would laugh at him, she always told him “never say never my love, you won’t know what the future holds for you”.

“You have your queen and your alliance now, I hope you are happy”

“Naturally, Margaery will serve the realm greatly”

“Soon enough she will start popping out lions, hopefully, my little (y/n) will have better luck”

“What could be better than becoming the queen mother?”

“Becoming the lady wife of a lord that cares for your well-being and happiness”

Tywin grew silent, there was nothing he could say against the allegations of Jeffrey’s cruel nature, he could only hope that Margaery was cunning enough to outsmart him which honestly was not going to be much of a huddle, all the times that Joffrey has been able to be sadistic was owed to other peoples stupidity to either allow him or cover for him.

“Well then let me take a good look at this girl you have such expectations for, lady (y/n)”

Tywin called for the girl whilst he stood a few feet away from the newlyweds, (y/n)s eyes finally found his, and Tywin felt his chest grow tight, the girl was a dream, a dream he often had but could never speak of due to him always believing it will be just that… a silly dream of a widower.

“Lord Tywin, I can imagine this day is probably one of the happiest for your house, correct me if I am wrong but house Tyrell has never wed a Lannister prior to this moment”

“Indeed, let this be a fruitful union for both of our houses, your grandmother has spoken quite highly of you”

“Oh do not listen to her, it is a grandmother's nature to always speak for her grandchildren in the best light”

“Nonsense, Garlan is utterly nice which makes him boring and Loras likes to imagine being a young day twirling in a dress on the garden field, I had lost all hope up until you and your sister were born, the true soldiers of the Tyrell’s”

(Y/n) smiled sweetly before she leaned to place a kiss on her grandmother's cheek, (y/n) and Margaery was well trained, they had sat on the table and played against the best of players only to come out victorious, now Margaery was queen and (y/n) was ready to score her alliance that would bring nothing but glory to her and her family.

“Lady olenna is a lot of things but she is not soft nor does she hide behind her finger, if she says you are her best card then I truly believe it”

Olenna noticed the graciousness in the old lions' words, she picked up on the scanning look that started from her toes and ended on the top of her head, (y/n) did not even have a hair out of place, she placed her hand over her heart as a sign of vulnerability and her smile became brighter in gratitude.

“You are utmost kind, my lord, it is not every day a lady gets to be complimented by the warden of Casterly Rock and the hand of the king, I consider myself lucky for that”

“Luck has nothing to do with it, above it all I am a man that favors honesty and that is what you are receiving”

“I shall go before your words get all in my head, it was an honor to meet you, my lord”

(Y/n) went to curtsy before she was interrupted by Tywin that instead of letting her, reached for her hand and then placed his other one on top of hers, a smirk still evident on his lips as his eyes pierced through her, yet he was left with nothing, (y/n) had always prevailed under the hawking looks of men, she was well aware that she could not budge whatsoever.

“I will see you later Grandmother”

“Of course little flower, go on now, have some fun for me”

Olenna kissed the top of the lady’s head lovingly, it was not a secret that olenna doted on her especially now that it was her turn to marry, she had to bite her lip when it came to Margaery since her son had already bargained her for a sweet deal of a crown, she must do right by (y/n).

Once the lady was far away enough Olenna turned her head towards Tywin who was still following the enchanting Tyrell with his gaze, the way she walked, talked, even her breathing was perfect, his thumb traced over his fingertips, recalling how soft and warm he skin felt against his touch.

“I know that look”

“Pardon?”

“You are planning something”

“I always am”

“If you are scheming to betroth my precious flower to another lion, I must admit I would rather it be you than that little son of yours, in truth I would rather for her to stay away from lions but an old lion is better than Tyrion”

-

The news of Tywins betrothal hit everyone in kings landing like a ton of bricks. Joffrey was dead, Margaery was technically the dowager queen, and the crown was getting weak by the moment.

(Y/n) had become her sister's shadow, some applauded her compassion and how she was present at all hours to console her sister, what they did not know was that Olenna was already moving the strings for Margaery to marry Tommen, the young, kind boy who could never hurt a fly, however, Olenna had ensured both of the girls now once and for all, what better way to do that than to mess with Tywins head?

“Lady olenna, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I am here to propose another marriage between my house and yours”

“That is no surprise, I am to expect you wish to betroth Margaery to Tommen?”

“No, no my dear Margaery has been through way too much”

“Loras is still to marry Cersei, is there a change in that betrothal?”

“Unfortunately that mess of a wedlock is still going steady, I am concerned over my (y/n)”

Tywin had been too occupied with writing to look up at olenna up until now, his ears perked up at the sound of her name, the girl with the bright smile and the scary resemblance to a shadow of the past.

“What do you wish to suggest?”

“My (y/n) is sweet, kind, and full of life, I believe Tommen would treat her as delicate as she deserves to be treated”

“Tommen? You want to put (y/n) by the new king's side?”

“Tommen is a good boy, nothing like Joffrey, I have taken notice of how Tommen smiles at her, no man could ever deny my beloved granddaughter, I am convinced their reign will be prosperous”

“Mayhaps, although I do not believe Tommen should be the one to marry (y/n)”

“Who else could stand the weight of the crown? Tommen is in much need of someone like (y/n), to keep him humble and gentle, show him what it is like to be loved”

That was what made tywins blood boil the most, the concept of (y/n) hugging Tommen, his grandson brushing (y/n)s hair, the lady creating a child out of Tommens semen, the image of her with a swollen belly whilst Tommen rubbed his hand over it made his skin crawl.

No, no he would never allow another man to be by her side on those milestones, he was graced by the gods with a second chance at love, how could he be a bystander to a marriage that would probably be terrific, although Tywin could never survive with the “what if” lingering on his mind.

“Because she is to marry me”

“Pardon?”

“I am to be betrothed to the lady (y/n), our marriage will take place the same day as Margaerys and Tommens, your Margaery will be queen, and lady (y/n) will become the lady of the rock”

“I would rather die than let my dearest become a second wife, your daughter will eat her alive once the news hit her ears”

“Are you afraid of Cersei?”

“I am petrified of the brass neck your daughter possesses, that woman thinks she can do whatever she pleases with no consequence”

“Cersei is my daughter, you have nothing to worry about she will not be allowed to harm your little girl, once (y/n) falls pregnant that child will become heir of Casterly Rock”

“What if she births a girl?”

“You and (y/n) along with Margaery will decide on her future, I will not partake or force my daughter to do anything”

“Your offer is dripping with syrup, but I will not accept, I gave you Loras and Margaery and now you dare to ask for more”

“If you do not consent to this then I shall announce a match of (y/n) and Ser Sandor Clegane, how does that sound?”

“Careful now, what you are suggesting is… grasping”

“Indeed, but I am feeling rather charitable so I grant you the day to decide, if I do not have an answer by the morrow then the sweet girl will be cloaked with a wonderful yellow flag”

Tywin was a man that proudly stood behind his every word, so as he walked out with a triumphed smirk on his lips he was too occupied with feeling his triumph to notice that olenna was also doing the same (y/n) was now the future lady of the rock and Margaery was to have a second chance to wear the crown.

“My lord”

(Y/n) interrupted his thoughts once she saw him, Tywin stopped swiftly before he could fall right onto her, she was waiting behind the door anxiously, her eyes gawked at the man as her cheeks grew rosy from the embarrassment of her clumsy nature.

“Lady (y/n), what seems to be so important that you could not wait in your chamber for your grandmother”

“She informed me about my betrothal, I apologize I was just so fidgety I wanted to know the second that it was settled”

“Are you in such a rush to marry that boy? I am concerned over your taste”

“Tommen is a wonderful person and the future king, any lady would be lucky to be his lady wife”

“So is it the promise of a crown that excites you? I can tell you wearing a piece of metal decorated with gems will not bring you any happiness”

“Pardon my intrusion but why are you so opposed to the fact of me marrying your grandson? I am highborn and have received the proper education, your house along with the Baratheon owe my family everything”

“It is not you that is not enough young lady”

Silence fell over them, Tywin had stumbled right on her trap and now he was as still as a grain of salt, only blinking at the girl that acted surprised over his suggestion that Tommen was the one that was short when he stood next to her, (y/n) bit her lip before she gazed down for a split second and then back up, she wanted to appear at a loss of words.

“I do not want to believe what my thoughts are suggesting”

“You are a fool if you don’t”

“Lord Tywin, you and I it- how could”

“I am too old for this game my dear, I have given your grandmother the rest of the day to decide and if I’m being frank I believe that luck is on my side, so I suggest you ran along and instruct the finest tailor to start on your gown, you must look as stunning as ever”

“I am fluttered, but I do not understand-“

“Listen to me dear, from that moment you smiled at me you have haunted every waking moment and I cannot seem to escape you even in the shackles of deep slumber, I am aware that I do not look like the young and beautiful knight in shining armor a maiden might expect to marry but I can you this promise right now, every other lady from east to west will be jealous of the luck you held when you marry me”

Lord Tywin once again made his exit thinking that he had the upper hand, if someone were to consider everything that has been done in this world wasn’t it always like this?

A man trotted away victorious while the woman stood and smiled proudly at herself, moving the strings without even the man realizing that she had very carefully placed the strings around his arms like a little puppet.

“My dearest girl, I was there at your birth and I took one good look at you and saw the moon and the stars in those eyes, I always knew you would be the brightest of them all”

Olenna informed (y/n) once she had walked into the office Tywin was in moments ago, Olenna wrapped her arms around her in the most loving manner and (y/n) responded with the same warmth.

“We have so much to plan, the future doesn’t wait for anyone”

-

“How could he ever do this to our family?”

“Who did what?”

“Do not play the fool with me Jaime I am sure you have heard of the vilest news, our father is to marry that little rat from Highgarden”

“One of them is a smirking whore and the other one is a rat? Well you certainly won’t have a good time in the palace once all of them marry into our family”

“How could be so calm at this time? Our son is dead, the other one is to marry Margaery and now our father betrayed us”

“Our father has been without a wife for over a decade Cersei, he is a highborn lord, anyone would have a good chunk of heirs from another wife by now”

In jaimes defense he has always attempted to take the logical side when Cersei went on her little paranoid rants over loyalty or whatever the case was at that time, however, this time he could not sit for hours and let her blabber.

Jaime did not even blink when his father told him about his betrothal, he is a kingsguard, and Tyrion is… well, Tyrion and Cersei have played her part in becoming queen though she could not inherit lannisport, every year he waited for his father to announce a marriage of alliance for himself and now it was finally time.

“This is despicable, they will tarnish our name”

“How will they do that exactly? (Y/n) will probably do her best at becoming pregnant which will install our name to live on which as you know is truly what our father cares about”

“Margaery is a manipulative little scum she will shred our Tommen to pieces”

“Tommen was tormented by Joffrey for years and you know it, if anything having some female tending to him will probably do wonders for his confidence”

“Of course as a man that is all you think about, I do not even know why I came to you over this matter, once again I am called to act by myself”

That is when Jaime had heard enough, very softly he rose from his seat and went over to his clearly disheveled sister, a kiss was laid on the center of her forehead all while his hands rubbed up and down to her forearms making her puff out a breath of relief from the comfort his touch brought to her.

“You will do nothing, Father has already announced his betrothal, if anyone even touched a hair from (y/n)s head he will not hesitate to demand its head to be served on a silver platter”

“Father is just being short sighed it is us that must act to save him”

“From what? Having his bed warm by a woman? Especially her, surely you are not that blind that you haven’t understood what he saw in her”

“Don’t say it”

“I know it feels like salt over the wound-“

“No, no”

“You must admit the resemblance is uncanny”

“Never!”

Cersei pushed him away harshly, tears welled up in her eyes and all of a sudden she was rudely pulled back to that day, the gods forsaken day that Cersei had to witness her mother laying in bed with blood staining her nightgown.

“That bitch is not our mother”

“She is not, though she looks like her”

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[magics-neptunes-things]

American Dream

Hi guys!

I hope you are well :)

A little story with Alessia, I had several requests in my private messages and I hope you like this one!

Enjoy reading and again my suggestion box is open :)

TW: None

______________________________________________________________

As you drive to New York JFK Airport, you can’t contain your excitement. With catchy music on the radio, you zigzag easily between cars to get to your goal faster. Which makes no sense since it probably won’t make your girlfriend arrive faster, since she’s not the one driving the plane.

But in your defense, it’s been since the beginning of the Christmas holidays that you haven’t see her and your daily Facetime don’t replace by far the smell of her or her hugs. Since you have only been a couple for a few months, you had organized your holiday parties separately. Alessia stayed in England to celebrate with her family while you flew to New York, from where you come, to celebrate with yours. You hope that next year you will manage to do things differently, but at least you will be able to spend a few days and New Year with Alessia before you take a return flight to London together.

The first time you met Alessia, you quickly found yourself having a crush for the pretty blonde. It was on a football pitch, of course. But when you signed your contract for Arsenal after finishing the one at Real Madrid, you fell in love with her. Her smile, her kindness, her blue eyes and every part of her being, finally.

By incredible luck, these feelings quickly turned out to be shared and it was a real thunderbolt that shook you both. Both singles, you didn’t wait long before asking Alessia for a date, who gladly agreed. You can’t count the moments you shared face to face with her, but you never get tired of it. You were afraid at first that your feelings would go away as quickly as they came, but now it’s been almost six months and they are only increasing.

Alessia’s brother set off on a world tour on 27 December, Alessia flew with her parents a few hours after his departure. However, her parents decided to rent a hotel, offering themselves a romantic stay. Besides, they will leave after Alessia and you.

While waiting for Alessia and her parents to arrive, you check your messages and smile as you see the photos that Beth and Viv sent you of your dog. They are the ones who keep him during your absence and you are happy to see that he seems to get along very well with Myle. The time to answer Viv and go around the waiting hall several times, you finally see a blonde head that you know well pass the last security doors.

Your hesitation to run to take her in your arms lasts a few seconds- she’s with her parents after all. But the smile she gives you when she sees you melts your heart and you hurry to reach her height.

"Hi Honey" sings Alessia making you spin around after you put your arms around her neck.

You laugh softly while letting her do it. You have only one centimeter of difference and it amuses you both to carry the other in this way every now and then. Head in the hollow of her neck, you lay some kisses and breath her before she releases you.

"Hi Princess" you answer back, gently taking her face in your hands so you can look at her.

Private but not secret, your relationship was never revealed. Well, there are very truthful speculations circulating on social networks, but you have never taken the time to deny or confirm all this. What happens between you two is up to you, it doesn’t deprive you of posting some stories or photos together.

However, between that and your in-laws watching you, you refrain from kissing her but not to kiss her cheek, before going to greet her parents. You all agreed that you will drop them off at their hotel and meet again tomorrow at noon for lunch, since the evening is already well advanced. With the jet lag, they will probably have some sleep to catch up.

Giorgio’s world tour is the main topic of conversation during the trip to the hôtel, with New York roads being particularly clogged at this time of evening. You look with amusement at Alessia dozing against the window, while listening to what your in-laws tell you. It doesn’t surprise you from the blonde, she has always been unable to sleep during a plane ride. You still remember Ella’s teasing her about it, Alessia not having closed her eye for a minute on the way to Australia for the World Cup.

Alessia wakes up to help you get her parents' suitcases out of the trunk and accompany them to the hotel reception, wishing to make sure everything is in order. After a last reminder of the place and time of appointment for tomorrow, you leave and find your car back.

"Ready?" you ask Alessia after finding your place behind the wheel.

"Mmh almost."

The answer makes you bow an eyebrow, but when the blonde leans in your direction, you quickly understand what’s behind her head. You smile against her lips when she kisses you, grabbing her chin to prolong the kiss for a few seconds.

"Now I’m ready."

A smile still stuck to your lips, you take the road to find your apartment. Located in the center of New York. It’s not very big, but since you almost never live there, it’s more than enough.

"Welcome home" you smile as you close the door to your apartment behind you.

Alessia’s luggage is dropped off near the entrance, letting her soak up the place for now. You take on you not to follow her everywhere, almost desperate at the idea of catching up with all the hugs and kisses you are late.

"It’s pretty" smiled gently Alessia looking around her.

"It’s an original way of saying it’s terribly lacking in personality" you laugh as you approach her, laying a kiss on her cheek from behind, passing your arms around her waist.

You laugh again, feeling her blush, mumbling that it wasn’t what she meant. You know that this is not a very personalized apartment, again you don’t live here daily. Your souvenirs and photos are in your London apartment.

"Are you hungry?" you ask to change the subject and stop teasing her. You put kisses along her jaw instead.

"A little yes" confesses the blonde while putting her hands on your arms.

"I’ll take care of it. You want to take a shower in the meantime?"

"With pleasure"

Grabbing her hand, you drag her into the bathroom, taking the opportunity to show her your place. It’s quickly done since the ground floor contains the living room, kitchen and dining area and the bedroom is on the mezzanine. The bathroom is also on the ground floor.

After helping Alessia unpack her suitcase and taking out her shower kit, you grab your phone to order in the sushi restaurant located two blocks from your home. You know Alessia’s passion for this and you know they are excellent. You also take the opportunity to change into something more pleasant, leaving your jeans to put on a jogging.

A good half hour later, Alessia finally comes out of the bathroom and you smile at her, amused.

"I thought you drowned."

You laugh when you see her rolling her eyes, but you invite her to join you on the couch on which you are. To pass the time, you turned on the TV and some variety show went on. But the pretty blonde doesn’t pay any attention, choosing to come and sit on your lap. Sliding your hands behind her back, you smile tenderly.

"I missed you" she whispers softly.

"I missed you too. I’m so glad you’re here" you add, smiling, putting a lock of her wet hair back in place.

She smiles at you again and you take advantage of your proximity to put a new kiss on her lips. Both cut off from the world, you get lost in your exchange, finally enjoying your reunion together. More kisses are exchanged and somehow your hands find their way under her shirt, eager for the feeling of her skin. At least, until the doorbell of your apartment rang, startling you both.

"It looks like sushi has arrived" you sigh against her lips, disappointed to have to interrupt your moment.

"Sushi?"

You laugh when you see Alessia’s face light up, almost watching her run to answer the door. Having taken care of paying for the order online, you let her receive your meal and you are content to go get plates to arrange the food.

"Oh god I love you" Alessia mumble, opening the different boxes

"You only say that because I know your favorite command by heart" you say, pulling your tongue and turning back.

You didn’t expect Alessia to jump on you abruptly, making you both fall on the couch that slides a few inches on the floor.

"Lessi" you laugh, trying to get rid of her embrace.

"I forbid you to doubt my feelings like that!"

Her harsh fake air makes you laugh but you raise both hands as a sign of remission.

"Sorry Lessibaby, I won’t do it again"

"You better"

#woso x reader #alessia russo #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #woso imagine

[albertasunrise]

Hope - No Hope

Masterlist

Summary: After Joel loses his wife and your best friend during childbirth. You support him as he takes on parenthood on his own at 22. But when feelings start to develop, you battle with the guilt you feel for falling for your best friend’s husband.

Relationships: Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+… this is to avoid spoilers! (I am so sorry this has taken so long. As many of you know I am expecting my first baby and the little miracle has been draining the lift out of me 😂 but I am getting over that now and so I will be updating my fics over the coming weeks 🥰 hope you enjoy!)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2

One year later...

Weekends at yours with Alec grilling had become a tradition. Noah and Sarah still adored each other and were practically joined at the hip at this point. You'd been with Alec for over a year. Moving it with each other not long after getting together Joel had been left to try and pull himself out of the dark hole your leaving him and Sarah had left him in. Yet, despite the crippling jealousy that he felt towards the other man for capturing your heart, he could not hate him. Alec was the perfect gentleman. You and he flourished together and helped Joel whenever he needed it. It was impossible to be anything but happy for you both. 

"Sarah come." Said Noah as he took her hand and helped her waddle over to his jungle gym "Play princesses." 

Joel watched with fondness as his 18th-month daughter walked with the little boy, her legs still a little wobbly but getting stronger every week. He kept an eye on them both whilst listening in to the conversation that was flowing between the adults. Tommy laughed as he told them a story about one of his friends, the older brother smiling at how enthusiastically his brother spoke about his brothers in arms. 

"How's work been for you Joel?" You asked, pulling his gaze away from the kids and towards you as you smiled sweetly at him. 

"Business is good." Joel answered with a shrug "Can't complain really." 

"How did your date with that client's daughter go?" Tommy asked as he gave his brother a wink. 

"You had a date?" You practically squeaked, looking between the two brothers with giddy excitement. 

"Was fine." Joel shrugged "She was sweet but we just didn't click." Joel shrugged, looking down at the beer in his hand in hoping that you would drop it. 

"What really happened?" You pushed and he sighed, there was no hiding anything from you. 

"She uh... Well, she freaked out when I told her I had a kid." He answered honestly "Can't blame her. I'm 22 with a toddler. Not exactly what you expect or what from a relationship in your early twenties." 

"Joel..." 

"It's fine... Honestly, what 20-something What's a kid right?" 

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Unable to find the words to say to make him feel better. He was so young and yet he seemed so set that he was to face life alone. 

"Foods up" Stated Alec as he placed the plate of burgers down beside the salad you'd placed there a few minutes ago.

"KIDS." Joel shouted, smirking when just their heads appeared in the doorway of the fort "FOOD!" he finished, outright smirking at how their eyes widened before they scrambled over to the table. 

Lunch passed with ease. Noah found it exceedingly funny how his little friend pulled her burger apart so that she could eat it all in separate pieces. Then after the dishes were cleared away and the kids were out down for a nap the four of you sat in the garden and enjoyed the piece and quiet. The conversation flowed easily and everything was relaxed. 

Until you and Alec dropped your news. 

"We're real glad that the two of you were able to make it." Alec said as he glanced at you and smiled. 

"Why's that?" Tommy asked as he eyed you and Alec. 

"Well, we got some news." 

Joel's stomach dropped. 

"Y'all getting married?" Tommy fired at them and they chuckled.

"No... Although we have been discussing it." Alec chuckled. 

"What is it then?" Tommy pushed and Joel wished his brother wouldn't. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. 

"We're gonna have a baby." You gushed and Joel swore his heart stopped altogether.

"What?" 

Your brows pulled together at his question and he internally scorned himself for his reaction. He hadn't meant to say that out loud but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. 

You were pregnant? 

"What my brother meant to say was congrats." Tommy piped up, pulling Joel back to earth with a crash. 

"Yeah... Course I did... just caught me by surprise is all." Joel stated, giving you what he hoped was a convincing smile. 

"Yeah... we uh..." Alec chuckled as you both gazed at each other a moment and grinned "We were too. Would be lying if we said we planned this." 

That didn't make Joel feel any better. 

"We have one too many bottles of wine to thank for this." You sniggered as you placed your hand on the bump that Joel had completely missed before. 

"Well, we already know you're both gonna be ace parents." Tommy said as he jumped to his feet, bending down to hug both you and Alec. 

Joel's heart was in his throat. He had worked so hard to bury his feelings for you but this news had just dredged them from the depths and shoved them in his face. He felt like he was under a spotlight as you all turned to look at him, waiting for him to speak. Sarah crying down the baby monitor couldn't have come at a better time. 

The tearful daddies had him standing from his seat quickly and muttering a few nervous sorry's before he sprinted inside to his daughter. You couldn't help but be confused by Joel's reaction to your news. You'd thought he would be happy for you. 

Meanwhile, Joel was rocking his sniffly little girl as she settled in his arms, placing soft kisses on her head of curly hair as he whispered how it was okay to her whilst swallowing back his own tears. He soothed his little girl back to sleep, laying her back down in her cot before stumbling back onto the couch behind him, falling into it and throwing his head in his hands as he allowed his tears to flow. 

Something you watched from the shadows as your heart shattered for him. You weren't sure why he was so broken but you hated seeing him hurt. Little did you know that he was mourning the fact that you were completely and utterly lost to him now. He officially had no hope of sharing his life with the woman who had pulled him from the deepest pit and brought him into the light. The woman who had taught him that life was worth living. 

That everyone has a second chance at love.

...

Tommy watched his brother from the kitchen as the man finished cleaning away the mess Sarah had left from dinner. They had left a short while after you and Alec had made your announcement, Joel remaining quiet the rest of the time they were there. He knew something was up. His brother wasn't good at hiding his true feelings, he wore them on his sleeve and he felt conflicted about his sibling's reaction to your pregnancy. Part of him felt for Joel. Knowing that for longer than his older brother had realised, he'd had feelings for you and how this bombshell must have shattered him. The other part though was angry that Joel hadn't even tried to pretend that he was happy for you. 

"Joel." He called out when his brother's cleaning got more erratic "Joel!" He said a little louder when his first call fell on deaf ears. 

"What." The older man growled, coming to a stop and gripping the edges of the counter as he stared at the bottles now soaking in the sink. 

"You could have been nicer about her news." He said plainly, pulling Joel's gaze to him. 

"What?" He asked again, but his tone changed. 

"I get that you're probably feeling a bit bummed about this but-" 

"Bummed?" Joel snarled, stopping his brother in his tracks "You think I'm feeling bummed about this?"

"You know what I mean... I get you're disappointed but you could have at least pretended to be happy for her." 

Joel said nothing. 

His chest heaved as his brother's words whirled in his brain. Bummed... he thought to himself. BUMMED?? He hadn't meant to yell that last thought at his brother. 

"I am fucking devastated." Joel choked, taking his brother by surprise "A year and a half ago... I lost my wife on what should have been the happiest day of my life." 

Tommy flinched at the mention of Joel's dead wife. 

"I drove home alone... with this tiny person beside me and I honestly thought that my life was over..." He trailed off as he scraped a shaky hand over his face "And then I walk into that very lounge and there's this ray of light shining back at me. 

"She pulled me back from the brink and despite my brain telling me it was wrong... I fell for her. But my wife had just died and I had a new baby so I pushed it away... Pushed her away..." Joel was sobbing now, his cheeks glittering with the tears that tracked down them "I pushed her away and she stumbled into the arms of another man. A man that I can't even hate because he's so fucking perfect for her!" 

"But you are-"

"I'm a fucking wreck, Tommy." Joel interrupted "I am nothing but bad for her and my feeling devastated about her happy news just proves that." 

"Joel..." Tommy trailed off, his heart aching for his older brother now. 

"I fucked up." He finished, shrugging and leaving the room. 

As the weather grew a little more changeable, dinners at your home became more scarce. Instead, you had started to have Sarah over for a few hours in the evening as Joel's hours had gotten longer. He never stuck around when collecting her though and you knew he was avoiding you. You hadn't pushed the subject of witnessing him crying. You'd barely mentioned the pregnancy around him in the short moments you did share any conversation. One month merged into two. Two into three and you felt him grow more and more distant with each one. 

You ached to talk to him though. To try and understand why your happy news had affected him the way it had. You wondered if perhaps it had brought up the hurt of losing Ali. They had broken the news to you in a similar way. Dinner at there's with you and a few other close friends, they had announced that they were expecting. Perhaps it had brought up memories and feelings he'd not dwelt on for a while. 

He never gave you a chance to find out though. You would share a few words. Mostly about what Sarah had been up to at nursery and with you before discussing what she had for dinner and any other days he may need you to have her. Your friendship had become little more than a business transaction and it was breaking your heart... And Alec could see how much it was breaking you. 

He only allowed one more month of this to continue before he finally decided that enough was enough. 

...

Joel glanced up at the door, glancing at Tommy before pushing himself to his feet and walking up to answer it. He had no clue who would be at his door at 9 in the evening but if he had hazard a guess, he wouldn't have ever thought it was Alec. 

"Hey." Alec said as he gave the man a smile "Hope I'm not interrupting." 

"Tommy and I were just watching the game." Joel replied and Alec nodded "What can I do for you?" He asked as he glanced over the man's shoulder "Everything okay?" 

"Oh yeah." Alec nodded, giving Joel's arm a friendly pat "I just thought you and I could go for a drink. Catch up... It's been a while." 

"Oh, I don't know... Sarah-" 

"Can be sat by her uncle Tommy for a few hours." Piped up his younger sibling as he walked up behind him "Go, I can handle shit here for a while." 

"You referring to it as shit doesn't give me much confidence." Joel grumbled as he grabbed his jacket and followed Alec to his car "Page me if you need me." He threw over his shoulder as he turned his head to look at his brother who was waving him off from the front door. 

"Won't need ya, brother." 

...

Alec drove to a bar not far from Joel's. It was fairly busy but not so much so that they couldn't hear each other talk. The conversation had flowed surprisingly easily at first. Something that Joel had always admired about Alec was that the man loved to talk about his kid. He sat there and gushed about how well Noah and Sarah played together. How she seemed to hang off of his every action. 

"He's constantly talking to baby." Alec chuckled "Telling her all the games he wants to play and-" 

"Her?" Joel piped up and Alec grinned and nodded "Shit... yeah I wasn't supposed to say anything." He let out an awkward chuckle as he took a sip of his beer "We're having a girl." 

"Wow, that's... That's great." Joel replied, his tone turning flat as he took a large swig of his beer in the hope that it would mask his disappointment. 

"Yeah... We're excited." 

"I bet." 

An awkward silence fell over the duo a moment before Alec spoke again. Leaning forward in his chair and forcing himself into Joel's eyeline. 

"What's going on man?" He asked and Joel was surprised at how surprisingly soft his question was.

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean that since we announced that we're having a baby you've been off." He stated plainly "I've been watching you break your friend's heart month by month as you grow more and more distant with her." 

"Alec-" Joel was stopped by a raised hand and he sighed. 

"I know our news must have dredged up some memories for you but you can't push your friends away." Alec pleaded "We're here to help you, Joel." 

"That's not... It didn't..." Joel couldn't string the words together but Alec knew what he was trying to say. 

"Well if it isn't that... the only other logical reason for your reaction is that you're..." He trailed off as he put two and two together. His eyes trailing up to Joel as the last puzzle piece falls into place. 

"You're in love with her... Aren't you?" 

Joel's eyes filled with tears as he nodded numbly. His eyes squeezed shut knocking a few of them free. Alec sat there in shock as he processed what he'd just learned. Joel's heart was in his throat as he watched the man work through everything he needed to. He had hoped that he would take this secret to his grave but in reality, he knew it had only been a matter of time before it came out. 

"Alec I'm sorry..." Joel choked, his eyes pleading with the man to believe him "I had feelings for her way before she met you but I was struggling with losing Ali and the fact I'd developed feelings for someone so soon after that I suppressed them and pushed her away and then she met you and I... Well, I was too late. You're good for her and I would never get in the way of you guys I just... I'm not good at handling this." 

This statement made Alec snort. He finally looked at Joel and the younger man readied himself for the verbal bashing he was undoubtedly about to receive. It never came. 

"I won't lie to you, man." Alec started with a sigh "This is not what I expected when I decided we needed to talk." 

Joel nodded, his eyes dropping to his beer bottle. 

"You need to buck up your ideas now though man." The man continued "She needs you... She needs Sarah. You're all she has left of Ali and she's been slowly killing herself trying to work out what she did wrong to make you so distant." 

"I didn't mean to hurt her." Joel mumbled and Alec nodded.

"I know man and I get why you've been behaving as you have. It's not gonna be easy learning the woman you love is having a baby with another man but we are your friends Joel and we can help you get through this. So let us." 

Joel nodded and gave the man a teary smile. 

They finished their beers before heading out of the bar and back to Alec's car. Joel had always admired the man's car. A black 66' Mustang that he had rebuilt with his dad as a kid. Alec had regaled the story fondly the first time Joel had set eyes on the car. 

"Wanna drive?" Alec asked as he waved the keys at Joel. 

The man's eyes widened as he nodded eagerly and Alec grinned as he tossed them to Joel as they swapped sides. To say Joel was excited did not do what he was feeling justice. He had been trying to think of a way to ask the man if he could take it for a spin since he met him, so to finally get the chance was beyond exciting. 

The straight six sitting under the bonnet roared to life and Joel and Alec both groaned before the younger man peeled out of the carpark and onto the main road. No words passed between them a while before Alec rolled his head to look at his friend, smiling at the giddy excitement plastered all over Joel. 

"I'm sorry you've been hurting man." He said simply "I want you to know that I genuinely care about you and I don't want to see you suffer." 

Joel shot him a smile, before returning his focus to the road. 

"We'll work this shit out." He finished, giving Joel's knee a friendly pat before turning his attention to the buildings that flew past his window. 

"Thank you." Joel said as he smiled over at Alec, his eyes then greeting the headlights of a truck that had just jumped a light. 

It was the last thing he said before the sound of metal being crushed rang in their ears. 

Then everything went black. 

Next

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #last of us #the last of us #joel miller gif #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal gif #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

[prythianpages]

ACOSM | The Night she met Cassian

azriel x rhy's sis (oc)

*Azriel is not in this particular imagine as this was before he met Rhys, Cass and Val.

warnings: fluff/mild angst

A/N: this is an imagine among my collection of imagines that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. This is when Cassian gets introduced to their life. You can find the masterlist for the collection of imagines here.

**

Windhaven was cold, dark and uninviting. It lacked the warmth and joy Velaris exuded. Still, Valeria preferred to be here as she found a strange comfort in the seemingly desolate place. Home was wherever her family was and for the time being, it was necessary for Rhysand to spend his adolescent years here.

 It was a huge adjustment for her as the Illyrians in the camp did not take kindly to her free-spirited nature. How dare a young girl act like the child she is? It became abundantly clear to her that she had to tread carefully, being mindful not to transgress the rigid boundaries set by the Illyrians. The boundaries that were interlaced with the toxic threads of misogyny and patriarchy in the disguise of tradition.

Days slipped away swiftly within Windhaven's clutches. Valeria's mother had taken it upon herself to oversee her daughter's education, a responsibility she gladly accepted. Lessons would commence after breakfast, right after bidding Rhysand farewell for his long day of training. Instead of delving into the teachings of “noble lady” etiquette, Valeria's days concluded with a needle and thread, her mother, a revered seamstress, guiding her through.

On days when tasks were few and far between, Valeria would dedicate her time to music. The violin, a gift from her mother, allowed her to lose herself in the gentle melodies. She did not expect to fall in love with music the way she did.

Her mother was overjoyed with this newfound passion. She continued to fuel it with more musical instruments. First, a harp and then finally, a piano. Valeria had been initially drawn to the allure of the violin, hoping to capture her father’s attention and follow in her grandmother’s footsteps. However, she found an unexpected sanctuary in the gentle embrace of the piano’s keys and preferred it to her other instruments.

Valeria gently set her violin down as her gaze wandered toward the window in her room, tracing the silhouette of her brother. Her brows knitted into deep furrows and she rushed to the window for a better look. The signs of a grueling training session were etched on Rhysand's features—bruised jaw and a cut lip with caked blood. It was not uncommon to find bruises on her brother’s face but as her eyes raked over his form, she also noticed the wince in his walk and the absence of the coat he had been wearing this morning before he left. 

The winds outside were chilling yet Rhysand looked unfazed by the cold. If anything, Valeria couldn’t help but sense a touch of smugness in his demeanor. Strange, she thought before rushing down the stairs to greet him. She itched to ask about his day, as she always did.

“Rhysand!” Their mother called out as she met her children in the foyer with wide eyes. “What happened to your sweet face?”

Rhysand shrugged as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You should see the other boy.”

Valeria rolled her eyes at his arrogance. A trait of his that grew more and more apparent every day. A part of her secretly hoped that the other boy’s injuries were less and not as severe. While their mother scolded him for braving the cold without a coat, Valeria shifted her gaze towards the window in time to spot as a young boy passed by.

He appeared to be the same age as Rhysand and recognition dawned on her. She had seen him before. Multiple times, actually, as it was a daily sighting after training hours. Although she did not know his name, she was aware of his identity. A bastard, as the camp referred to him as. He was the bastard son of another camp’s warrior. He was separated from his mother at a young age and forced to fend for himself and train here. Val couldn't fathom a life devoid of warmth, safety, or care, but she imagined it to be a dreadful existence. Nobody should endure such hardships. 

A nasty bruise adorned his eye and there was also a wince in his walk. She wondered if both Rhysand and this boy received lashings on their backs as punishment for any mayhem that may have caused in training. Unlike all the other days, the boy was appropriately dressed for the weather this cold day. Realization flashed within her eyes as she saw it was thanks to her brother’s coat.

Driven by curiosity, Valeria ventured outside, ignoring her mother’s scolding for leaving without her coat. She found herself eager to engage with the boy. She had been itching for an excuse to do so when she had learned why the camp shunned him. "Hey!" she called out as she approached him.

The boy paused and met her gaze.

"That’s my brother’s coat," she pointed out, the cold wind nipping at her cheeks.

The boy responded with a defensive glare, his long wavy hair whirling in the wind, but Valeria remained undeterred.

"Would you like to eat dinner with us?"

"I kicked your brother’s ass," the boy stated with a raise of his brow. A flicker of amusement flashed in his hazel eyes.

"I know," Valeria said, a smile playing on her lips.

"Valeria, it’s dinner time!" her mother's voice called out from the doorway. “Invite your friend!”

The boy weighed his options. He could go home, where there would be no dinner, but at least he’d be in the comfort of his own space. As tiny and humble the tent may be. Or he could accept the girl’s invitation and enjoy a warm dinner in her company, even if it meant entertaining whatever intentions she had. It couldn’t be that bad, right? And as the aroma of dinner made its way to him, his decision was clear.

As the evening sun painted the sky with hues of orange and gold, Valeria and the boy headed inside into the tranquility of her family’s home. The flickering candlelight casted shadows across the room and the scent of a hearty dinner filled the air.

Rhysand furrowed his brow, glancing at Valeria as both her and the boy approached the dining table. Rhysand made a motion and with a sigh, she followed her brother who led her back to the hallway. He leaned in close to whisper, encouraging her to keep her voice low too while their mother introduced herself to their guest and happily set another place at the table for him.

"Why is he here?”

“He has nowhere to go.” She whispered back.

“He has his tent!”

Valeria shot him a look. “It’s cold outside.”

“He has my coat.” Rhysand replied as he motioned to the injuries on his face.

“It’s cruel for him to be left on his own.”

Rhysand sighed as he leaned back, understanding dawning in his eyes. He recognized the gravity of the boy’s situation and although he couldn’t deny the ache to his injuries or the lashings they received as punishment for their brawl earlier, he was not mad about them. He would’ve done the same, if he were in the other boy’s shoes.  

Just then, a voice chimed in from the kitchen, where the boy had remained seated at the dining table. 

"I can hear you, you know," The boy interjected, a hint of pride in his tone. He had heard the entirety of their conversation.

Rhysand flicked Valeria’s forehead.

“Ow!” Valeria blinked, her hand flying to her forehead. “What was that for?”

“For not knowing how to whisper, you fool!”

“You’re the one who wanted an explanation.” Valeria shot back in defense, scowling at her brother.

 “I don’t need your pity.” 

The siblings turned to the boy, who now stood under the doorway and glowered at them. Valeria smiled warmly at the boy, extending an understanding gesture towards him. "Of course. We were just discussing that everyone deserves a warm meal and a place to call home." 

The boy’s expression softened at her kindness but he was wary of the pity that often accompanied such gestures. He disliked being seen as someone in need, even though that was the cruel reality of his life.

Their mother, sensing the need to ease the situation, spoke up. “Let’s hurry and eat dinner before it grows cold. Then, off to a warm bath and bed. For everyone.” She said, extending a genuine invitation to the boy with torn shoes. “We don’t have an extra room but we have an extra bed. You’re more than welcome to stay with us.”

The boy hesitated, battling with his pride. The prospect of a warm bath and a comfortable bed was enticing. After moments of contemplation, he managed a grateful bow of his head and accepted the offer.

As they gathered around the table, Cassian–as the boy had later introduced himself–, found himself grateful for the warmth and acceptance of Valeria and her mother. He could not say the same for Rhysand, their animosity toward each other after their earlier brawl still strong and evident. He chose to ignore him, opting to exchange casual conversation with their mother and finding humor in the looks Valeria kept sending her brother instead.  

**

There were only three bedrooms upstairs. One for Lady Yvaine, one for Valeria and one for Rhysand. Valeria had offered to move into her mother’s room but her instruments took up too much space and their mother also used her room as storage for her seamstress work so the idea was shot down. Much to both of their dismay, this resulted in Cassian and Rhysand reluctantly sharing a room. They had agreed, with a hint of humor, not to let their animosity reach murderous levels during their sleep.

Valeria thought that perhaps, Rhysand and Cassian would grow tired of their constant bickering and viciousness toward each other but it appeared it would take much longer than a couple of weeks for their animosity to resolve. Rhysand seemed to enjoy honing his newfound daemati skills at Cassian’s expense, taunting and teasing his mind. The tension often escalated into heated wrestling matches on the living room floor. 

Their mother decided to intervene. Initially, she denied them supper when their fights escalated, hoping hunger would put an end to their quarrels. When that method no longer seemed to work, she devised a new approach. Bonding time, she called it. It involved the two boys sitting face-to-face, forced to give each other genuine compliments. Even Valeria found herself subject to this discipline when her bickering with Rhysand escalated.

Though Rhysand and Cassian no longer resorted to physical fighting–at least not in the confinements of their home–a new form of subtle passive aggression emerged. When Rhysand learned that Cassian loved peas, he made it a point to consume the majority of them, despite his personal distaste for them. In turn, Cassian became aware of Rhysand’s preference for chicken thighs and on nights they’d have roasted chicken, he would slyly ensure he secured the first pick of chicken thigh, despite his own preference for wings.

A month had passed since Cassian had moved into their home, and the dynamic between him and Rhysand remained a complex work in progress. However, his bond with Valeria had blossomed into a relationship akin to that of a brother and sister. Initially born out of gratitude for her dinner invitation, Cassian's kindness toward Valeria had deepened as they spent more time together. On nights he wasn’t so tired from training, he’d join her in the living room. Sometimes, they’d sing or draw together. Their drawings were often at Rhysand’s expense. Valeria had even moved her piano to the living room so that she could show him new songs she’d come up with. He couldn't help but notice Rhysand's subtle pouts whenever their conversations ventured into inside jokes, exclusive to their newfound companionship. Cassian was sincere in his intent of friendship with Valeria. It was an added bonus that his growing closeness with her seemed to needle Rhysand.

**

As the night enveloped the household in a cozy embrace, Rhysand found himself wrestling with a whirlwind of emotions. He had always been close to Valeria, their bond unbreakable, but now seeing her befriend Cassian stirred something inside him—an unfamiliar pang of jealousy. 

He found himself approaching his mother later that evening in the dimly lit kitchen. Valeria had gone to wash up and Cassian had already excused himself to bed. Rhysand’s steps were heavy and as he loudly dragged one of the dining chairs to sit on it, he let out a loud sigh.

His mother, who had been cleaning the dishes, paused. A knowing smile touched her lips as she turned to lean against the sink and observe her son’s turmoil. 

“What troubles my little star?”

Rhysand fidgeted with his hands on the table. He was hesitant to open up, so his mother approached him. Her gentle hand reached out for his, offering comfort through her warm touch.

"I... I don't understand why Valeria is becoming so close to Cassian. You saw how she let him have the last lemon cake slice! She never offers me the last slice.”

"Rhysand," His mother said tenderly, "Valeria has a big heart. She is capable of forming many meaningful bonds and at the moment, Cassian is someone who needs a friend. He could use another one, you know.”

"But what about us?" Rhysand's voice quivered with insecurity.

"No new friendship can replace the bond you two share,” his mother assured him. “Valeria cherishes you deeply. You are, and always will be, her best brother."

Rhysand leaned into his mother’s embrace as her words sinked in, calming the storm of doubts and jealousy that raged within his heart earlier. 

**

Valeria stepped out of the bathroom and hummed quietly to herself. As she passed the room Rhysand and Cassian shared, she noticed the door slightly ajar. Rhysand was still downstairs with their mother but she caught a glimpse of Cassian, who was alone, gazing out the window with tears glistening in his eyes. She recognized the look in his eyes– it was a glimpse into his vulnerable heart, a moment of yearning  and longing.

Deciding she had to do something about her friend’s sadness, Valeria made her way to her room to retrieve something precious to her. It was a  figurine her mother had given her before first leaving for Windhaven. The obsidian figure depicted an Illyrian mother cradling her child, a symbol of protection and love. It had brought her immense comfort in the absence of her mother's physical presence.

Approaching Cassian's room with delicate steps, she caught the sight of him hastily wiping at his eyes, trying to hide that he had been crying. He turned as he heard her footsteps, meeting her gentle gaze. 

Valeria held out the figurine, her voice soft and comforting. “My mother gave this to me when she had to leave. Although she was not with me, she said this mother would take care of me.”

Cassian hesitantly took the figure made of pure obsidian into his hands and studied it intently. The craftsmanship was exquisite, capturing the essence of a mother's love and protection.

“The Mother watches over everyone,” Valeria added, her violet eyes conveying empathy and understanding.

“I hope it can bring you comfort like it did for me.”

A quiet and heartfelt “thanks” escaped Cassian’s lips. He was touched by Valeria's understanding. It was a subtle reassurance that he wasn't alone in this new journey.

**

Valeria found herself calling after Cassian the next morning. “Cassian, your coat!” she exclaimed in concern, hastening her steps to catch up to him. “You don’t want to be cold!”

Rhysand let out an exaggerated sigh as he followed after the two. “Cassian this. Cassian that. Does she not know she has a brother??”

Their mother, standing nearby and having overheard the banter, couldn't help but laugh at Rhysand's playful exasperation. She walked over, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Of course she does, Rhys.” His mother replied, reminding him of their conversation the night before with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder. “You’re still the best big bruder,” she added, using the endearing term for “brother” Valeria had used for him when she was younger.

Oblivious to the conversation between her mother and Rhysand, Valeria ran back up to Rhysand. She grinned as she dug into the pocket of her coat and extended her hand out to Rhysand. “I saved you some for your walk to training.”

Rhysand’s lips curled into a grin of his own as he saw her hold out the leftover blueberries from the muffins she and her mother had baked earlier. She had carefully wrapped them in a cloth for him. Blueberries were his favorite.

 “Go on, now. You don’t want to be late,” his mother said as she gave him a gentle push.

Rhysand took the blueberries from Valeria with a quick thanks and ran to catch up with Cassian. His grin grew wider. The warmth of his mother's reassurance and the small treat in his hand thawed any lingering traces of jealousy or insecurity he might have felt. He knew that despite the newfound bond Valeria had with Cassian, their sibling relationship remained strong and unshakable.

***

Tag list: @justrepostandlove @kemillyfreitas

#cassian x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #acotar imagine #acotar #rhysand's sister #rhysand's sister x azriel #rhysand imagine #cassian imagine #azriel imagine #acosm

[citrus-simp]

A/N: So based off of this blurb here, I wanted to elaborate more on king Bakugou with his pregnant queen. (Idc if there has been a fic I’ve made about this I like Bakugou as a father and pregnant fics are fluffy and comfort)

ANYWAY-

__________________________________________

So after being nagged by advisors about having an heir Bakugou uh....took care of it

literally

Now you've missed 2 periods and you're more than sure you were pregnant. In addition to the constant tiredness, and morning sickness. Bakugou being the prideful king he was wanted to be the one to help you in the early months.

Holding your hair back, tucking you in bed, even making your food. Now he may be the king but the only person he would cook for is you himself and now your baby.

Once it was confirmed by the medic, Bakugou had to step out of the room for a moment while they spoke to you.

This was just an heir to the thrown this was his child. And he would be damned if he let them be treated only as an heir and not his pride and joy. The same thing went for you, he couldn't feel more pride knowing you were the mother of his child.

You thought he was protective before?? You haven't seen anything yet! it bumped up from a 10 to a 10000000.

He loved to watch you grow and sometimes he would stare at you in awe knowing what you and your body were capable of. This was your first child together so he was hoping all will go well

He would inspect the castle to make sure nothing was in your way to harm you.

"Katsuki you don't need the stairs taken away-"

"Oh yes I do, I'll go to hell before I let you go down any stairs" he answered back

"...katsuki its 3 steps"

"I don't care!"

He loved to wake up in the morning and watch as his stomach rose and fell. But it didn't fall completely flat. for the first few months there was a small bump, almost like bloating, but after about 3 months it started to round more. It only made Bakugou fall even harder for you

He would look at you and just wonder about it. The baby, its growth, who they'd look like who they'd act like, everything

Every now and then he'll wrap you in his arms and whisper a gentle thank you

"you both mean more than any gold I could ever have. I love you"

"awh katsuki" you'd say tearing up

While you were coming closer to the months of just bed rest he had the best midwives and doctors he could find in the village. He had them live in the castle at least until it was time for the baby to be born

He had already known women go through a great ordeal in life and childbirth was part of many. He couldn't bare your pain or take it away but he could help you. For once he had set his pride aside and asked to be taught all about childbirth and what he could do to help

he loves you....very much

"Teach me how this will all go down and what shit I have to do for her." he had his own unique way of asking for help. The doctor was in charge of scientific childbirth and the midwives told him how he can console and comfort you through labor.

he spent about 2 hours there

and he came out a new man with new knowledge. He wasn't the pregnant one and he was terrified. The labor was separate from actual birth and could go on for hours

birth wasn't fun either

and the months of recovery would not be easy either. In some ways, he felt regret for getting you pregnant and now he could only watch you through pain when the time came.

However, the midwives assured him that if he held your hand, encouraged you, and helped you in whatever way he needed, you would appreciate it even more.

While he snuggled you in bed he said "I learned some new information today. Just know that I'm grateful...for everything" he said cradling your bump

When the day finally came, he was there from the first light contraction to the very strongest. He would even see how your stomach contracted, but he knew the worst was yet to come

He had to admit it hurt him more knowing that you were in pain until this was over. Ignoring the pain in his hand from your squeezing. He wiped the sweat from your face, he held you while you let all your weight rest on him, he massaged any sore spots, he kissed your head to try and comfort you

"I know it hurts...but you're strong, you've got this" "that's it, it's almost over" "you're doing great, I'm right here" "good job, just one more push, you're so close"

After it was all done, a scream was finally heard, and the room fell silent.

It was a boy (:

The midwives cleaned him up while Bakugou kissed and congratulated you

"You did so good Y/N, I-I don't know how you pulled through all of that but you did amazing," he said kissing your forehead

The crying had died down while he was getting washed up making Bakugou look over, you squeezed his hand and said "Go see him" you urged him

he was a bit nervous to see him up close but his feet move without thought "your majesty, your son" said the midwife handing his baby over to him wrapped warmly in a blanket

"h-hey there...I'm your...your dad bud.." he was starstruck "He looked like him but he looked more like you. He even had his pout only being minutes old "let's go and see mommy yeah?"

"look at him babe....you did amazing," he said as teared up, handing you the small and delicate bundle. You couldn't fathom the amount of love you felt at that moment. He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in your life

"Hello, sweetheart...I'm your mommy" you sniffed as tears blurred your vision. Bakugou crawled into the bed with you and gently touched the hair on his head. His eyes open up to showcase his bright crimson eyes, just like his father

"Y/N..." he called for your attention "you are nothing short of a goddess. I won't lie to you I was scared through the entire process, but you pulled through so strongly I...just..thank you...thank you so much" he said kissing your forehead

#domestic bakugou #dragon king bakugou #king bakugou #bakugou x reader #king Bakugou x reader #anime #bnha x fem!reader #bnha fantasy au #bnha x reader #bnha x pregnant reader #dad bakugou

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Pick up the phone, I know I’m drunk again. And you know my intentions ‘cause it’s 2am - Ancient History by Set It Off

Hello, could you make one of Spencer x reader, please?

Hello love, hope you like it!

Ancient History

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - After you and Spencer break up, you just can’t seem to stay away from each other. But casual sex with the person you love will only do more harm than good, so you have to decide if you have a future together or if your relationship is fated to be ancient history.

CW - mentions of 15x6 Date Night, breakups, mentions of casual sex but no my graphic, drinking, angst, make ups.

WC - 2.6k

Spencer Reid had never been good at separating the intimate from his emotions. 

Maybe it was due to him being well into his twenties the first time he slept with a woman. Or perhaps it was just the fact that his heart was too big for his own good. 

Whatever the reason, he’d never been one for casual sex. He didn’t do hook ups or one night stands. He needed to have some kind of emotional connection with a woman before he could fall into bed with them. 

And it wasn’t exactly as though that had changed, things were just…complicated. 

It had taken months of dating before you and Spencer took your relationship to that level, but once you did it was difficult to keep your hands off of each other. 

Spencer had felt connected to you in ways he’d never felt with anyone else before you’d even slept together for the first time. And after, the link had grown so intrinsic it was likely to never break. 

He felt as though he was just as in tune with you as he was himself, like your souls were entwined on some kind of cosmic level even his impressive brain couldn’t fathom. 

But after you’d had to witness him standing in his doorway kissing a hit woman who had kidnapped his mother and had him locked up, your three year relationship came to an abrupt end. 

He’d tried to reason with you, to explain he’d been doing it to save a family and no other reason. But you’d seen the way he’d kissed her, the way he gripped her so tightly as though he was afraid she may crumble to dust. The way he looked completely dumbfounded afterwards, like Cat’s kiss had erased every single one of his brain cells. 

There was no denying that kind of chemistry, try as he might. You’d tried to let it go but every time you closed your eyes you saw him and Cat together. And so for your own sanity you had to walk away. 

But you never could shake the memories that rain inside. And neither could Spencer.

He missed everything about you but it quickly became clear to him that he desperately yearned for you and your body. 

Spencer had never had a sexual relationship last so long, or in fact any relationship, but he felt as though he was dying without your touch. 

Once the storm had settled the two of you met up for coffee and somehow you’d ended your meeting with a mutual understanding. 

You didn’t trust Spencer the way you used to but you both agreed you missed the intimacy. And so the two of you made an arrangement that meant you still got to keep the physical aspect of your relationship without the strings and commitment. 

And maybe if Spencer wasn’t so in love with you he wouldn’t have agreed to it. But if he could only have one part of you then so be it. It would have to be enough. 

He pretended it was right but deep down he knew how wrong it was. But every time you called he answered. And when he called, you did the same in return. 

Spencer tried to stem his loneliness with alcohol, hoping maybe it would take away some of the desperation he felt just to be near you. But more often than not it didn’t work and he would find himself pacing the street with his phone to his ear. 

Pick up the phone, I know I’m drunk again, but please pick up the phone. 

And of course you always did, and you always knew his tensions at two am. 

Maybe you were under thinking part-time thrills, not focusing on the bigger picture because you would both get swept up in the pleasure. 

It was hard to think logically when Spencer had you pinned to the bed under the weight of his body, yet making you feel lighter than air with his touch. 

He knew how to drive you wild and you knew how to make him smile. Your bodies moved together in such an impossibly perfect rhythm, like a choreographed dance, the moves for which were embedded deep inside your souls. 

It was too hard to quit something that just felt this right. Even if Spencer did inadvertently leave a small fragment of his heart behind in your bed each time. 

A storm was surely advancing, but Spencer ignored it. Instead he would get drunk and call you at two am and end up between your sheets. 

Every time it became more difficult to drag himself away from you. When the haze of pleasure wore off and he had to prize himself out of your bed it often felt like those sheets were holding him captive. 

But he would get dressed and take his leave as you whispered from the bed, see you next time. 

It was all fun and games until inevitably you would both get hurt. You played with fire because you loved the way it burned. But there was no use patching up a sinking ship, sometimes you just had to know when to admit defeat. 

And so Spencer stopped drinking, stopped allowing his lowered inhibitions from picking at the phone again. But then you showed up at his apartment in the middle of the night and his resolve melted. 

It chipped pieces of him away each time one of you had to leave after spending the night together. He started to feel used, like all he was good for was sex and it caused indentations on his heart from where it continuously took beatings. 

Deep down he’d hoped if he kept this up then things would go back to how they used to be, that you’d forgive him, learn to trust him again. 

Perhaps that made him naive, idealistic to believe just because he couldn’t separate the intimate from the emotional that you couldn’t either. 

After a while it all just felt like a vicious, self-destructive cycle and he had to break it. As much as he loved you, as much as he’d thought getting to be with you in any capacity was worth it, it hurt too much. It would end up taking too much from him and he’d never recover.

He would never be able to begin to heal while the two of you were still playing this game. Spencer needed you to be his ancient history. 

But once again you showered up on his doorstep in the middle of the night and he let you in. He didn’t argue when you started to kiss him or when you began removing his clothes. 

He put up no fight when you led him to his bedroom and you both climbed on the bed. He was completely complicit in the activities that followed. 

But once it was over and you almost immediately freed yourself from between his sheets and started dressing, Spencer’s heart took the final blow it could handle. 

He sat up in bed, pulling the sheets over himself to shield his naked body and watched as you got back in your clothes. And the words seemed to come tumbling out of his mouth before he’d realised he was going to vocalise them. 

“This is the last time we do this. This has to be the last time.” He hated the pain in his voice, the way he sounded like a small, frightened child. 

You pulled your t-shirt over your head and slowly turned to face him. 

“What? Why?” You frowned at him. “Why would you say that?” 

Did you really not know? Surely you knew him well enough to see the hurt in his eyes every time you walked away from him. It didn’t take a profiler to see how much agony this caused him. 

“This is breaking me, Y/N.” He shook his head. “Every time we do this it hurts me more than the last. I can’t keep watching you leave when all I want is for you to stay.” 

“Spencer,” you sighed almost as though you were frustrated. “It’s just sex.”

“It can never be just sex with the woman I love, the woman I thought I would spend the rest of my life with.” He swung his legs out of the bed and hurriedly pulled his boxers on before standing up. 

“Spence, come on. It doesn’t need to be complicated.” You rolled your eyes. 

“You know who I really am and it’s not this.” He folded his arms over his bare chest. “I know I hurt you and I’m sorry for that. And maybe there is some sick part of me that enjoyed that kiss with Cat. Maybe there always has been some twisted part of my brain that’s never been able to let her go. She's come so close to outsmarting me time and time again and perhaps I like that in a weird way. But you also know that I love you with every beat of my heart. And you seem to know how to break it so well.” 

“I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to look at you the same.” You confessed. “The second the endorphins wear off and I’m just laying here next to you, it all comes flooding back to me. All I can see when I look at you is that damn kiss.” 

“I think what we’re doing…it’s more damaging than anything. It fools me into believing that we can have more again. And if all we’re ever going to have is sex then I have to end it. It’s not enough for me Y/N. It would hurt less to have nothing from you than only have one small part of you.” His arms fell back to his sides and he turned away from you, feeling the tears burning his eyes. 

For a moment or two the room descended into an all consuming silence. Spencer fought against his tears, not wanting you to see how much pain this was causing him. He didn’t feel like he deserved to be hurt, not after what he’d done to you. 

You knew as well as he did that this was a foolish idea. Truthfully it hurt you just as much every time you had to leave him. Getting to be close to him filled your heart with joy but as soon it was over the pain set in again. 

You wished you could find a way to forgive him for making out with Cat, wished you could foresee a day when you wouldn’t still feel so betrayed by it. 

Logically you knew he’d only done what he did to save a family but you also knew on some level he’d enjoyed the excuse to kiss her. 

And maybe if it had been anyone other than the woman responsible for putting him in prison and kidnapping his mother it could have been easier to reconcile. But the hardest part of it all for you to wrap your head around was how he could do such a thing with a woman who had effectively ruined his life over and over again. 

It said more about his morals than anything. He said he’d done it because he thought it was the only way to get what he needed out of her but you both knew there were other ways. And you were sure you’d never be able to forgive him for it. 

After a while you exhaled heavily, knowing he was right as much as you didn’t want to admit it. In the long run this was only going to hurt more than just letting each other go. 

“I guess I should go then.” Your voice wobbled a little as you spoke. 

“I think it’s for the best.” He agreed without turning to look at you. 

You collected the rest of your things in silence and he didn’t once glance at you as you did so. Even when you left the room and headed to the front door, Spencer forced himself not to look, not to speak. He was this close to begging you to stay. 

But he said nothing. 

And maybe you were destined to be his ancient history. 

Except the thing about history was that it had a habit of repeating itself. 

Several months of radio silence on both your parts followed that night until you’d bumped into each other at a local bookstore. 

The hurt was still there but it had lessened and actually you found seeing one another again was a breath of fresh air. 

You agreed to meet again for coffee the following week. 

Over subsequent meetings a beautiful friendship blossomed between you. You were able to hang out without falling into bed with one another and although there was still some residual pain, being friends worked out nicely for you both. 

But then one day you woke up and all the trust you’d lost in Spencer seemed to have returned; all the feelings you’d had about that kiss with Cat seemingly vanished. 

Maybe all you’d needed was time to process it and move past it. And the more you thought about it the more trivial it all seemed. 

You loved Spencer, even now you loved him just as much if not more than you had. Letting one stupid mistake get in the way of what could be the best thing that ever happened to you now felt so idiotic.��

It had really been second nature when after having lunch together and you walked outside to say your goodbyes, you’d leaned in and kissed him. 

When you pulled back Spencer averted his gaze, shoving his hands in his pockets and taking a step backwards. 

“Y/N…” he whispered your name under his breath. “Don’t…please don’t.” 

“I don’t even know what came over me.” You suddenly felt awash with discomfort. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I love being your friend.” He looked back at you, chewing on his lip. “But it’s still hard sometimes. We can’t fall back into that old pattern, it’s too painful.” 

“I…I…” you stumbled over your words. “Spence?” 

“Yeah?” He swallowed.

“I don’t wanna be your friend.” You shrugged. “And I don’t wanna just sleep with you. I want it all, Spence. I want what we had.” 

His eyes conveyed his sadness and he inhaled sharply through his nose. 

“So do I.” He nodded. “But I hurt you and you can’t forgive me for that, I get it.”

“See that’s the thing,” you stepped closer to him. “I think I have forgiven you.”

His face contorted into confusion as he scrutinised you curiously. He ruminated on your words, you could all but see the cogs turning in his head. 

He didn’t seem to believe you and you didn’t blame him for that. You stepped even closer and removed his hands from his pockets, holding them in your own. 

“Y/N,” his voice and his hands both trembled. “Please don’t say that unless you mean it. I can’t go through the pain of losing you again.” 

“I do mean it, Spencer. I’m not mad anymore, and I know I can trust you with my life.” You gave his hands a soft squeeze. 

“I…I’m so sorry for the thing with Cat. You have no idea how sorry I am.”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea.” You offered him a smile. “I love you, Spence. Some dumb kiss is not a good enough reason for us not to be together.” 

“I love you too. S-so much.” He stuttered, tears misting his vision. 

“Good.” You laughed lightly, leaning in and capturing his lips once again. 

He removed his hands from yours so he could wrap his arms around you, holding you close to him where you belonged. 

He knew he’d never do anything to risk losing you again. You were his present and you were his future; not his ancient history. 

#milestone celebration #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

[oneshotnewbie]

Carina is afraid of Reader getting hurt (she is a police officer) and maybe, just maybe, they get hurt? You don't have to if you don't want to!!

Authors note: This story has been sitting in my finished documents for about two years haha. So maybe it's not all that well written

ᕚ---ᕘ

Working undercover was exhausting, if not draining. You were aware of it both physically and mentally, yet you accepted the job. Accepted it in hope that, like every order, it would pass quickly. You had been investigating undercover in a drug gang for several weeks now. Barely exchanged a word with your wife for endless days to protect her from the cunning mastermind of the gang. Sporadically, there was a short on-minute-conversation at a phone booth here and there, but it was not enough. On both sides.

Carina was worried sick; she only got fleeting answers from your lieutenant on how you were doing. She was so concerned for your life that the brunette even fell ill and had to be hospitalized. When you found out, you wanted to break your cover and risk your life just so you could see her. But she managed to stop you, promising she would take care of herself until you were back home.

You missed everything about the cozy apartment you shared with her. The scent, your bed. Even the smell of cheese that had spread throughout the kitchen. But mostly the closeness of your girlfriend and the warmth that reached you every time you had a hard day at work. All of that you had to exchange for a cold, sparsely furnished one-room apartment outside of the city.

With each passing day it became harder to maintain the disguise. Everything got on your last nerves and ripped you apart. On the very first day, you wished that you could leave work and go back to your family but it had taken you a long time to earn the trust of the drug lord, Joaquín González, before he gave you permission to do big jobs. You were basically his second hand and knew everything about his business.

Even so, you still had to wait to snag all of his followers. At least until this evening where the cruical deal would go through. If everything went smoothly, you could go back to your old life tomorrow. Back to your family. The day passed faster than you could have imagined and it slowly started to get dark. The pink tone of the setting sun gave you a feeling of security and freedom- a feeling you had not had in a long time and made you believe that everything would turn out the way you wished for.

Slowly, you sat down on the chair you had prepared and waited out the last hours before your assignment while you looked through the small window. The landscape was swallowed up in a deep darkness, so completely dark that you felt the cold and hatefulness filling up your heart. Without the feeling, you could not think straight in the violent drug clan. This feeling had changed you, you felt it deep inside. That freezing cold surrounded you and gave you the courage to do any assignment without hesitation so you would not experience pain. But you still hoped to shed that mask once you were safe in the arms of your beloved Italian.

The mask had so often saved you from a mental collapse on missions, that you might not want to take it off as protection for further police operations and it shocked you deeply, that you even believed in wanting to keep it. After each undercover assignment, Carina was always able to give you the feeling of security, and the conscience that everything would be fine again. But you were not sure if she could still save you from what ate away your soul this time.

Of course you knew that she would do everything in her power to get your old self back- Carina had managed it all the time. The brunette would take care of you, spoil you like your life was more important than hers. This time was different. You had been separated from your old life for far too long to make up for with a few days of utmost nurturing.

A small tear, which you quickly wiped away, rolled down your face. You were not allowed to cry, you had to blame yourself for your fate and now you had to face the consequences.

ᕚ---ᕘ

"Where is she? Where is Y/n?" yelled a rough and worried voice at a nurse of the emergency room and you could immediately assign it to Carina. Frantically, she made her way to search between the occupied beds for the woman for whom she was the emergency contacts. „Deluca, calm down. She is here, I will lead you to her"

To her ears, the spoken sentence of Owen Hunt sounded like a war. Knowing the seriousness of the situation, she felt nothing but pure fear. Worries enveloped the woman and she could not imagine finding you badly injured somewhere in the emergency room and realizing that you were hovering between life and death.

The brunette swallowed hard. She missed you so much and just wanted to back healthily. Quietly, she trotted behind the head of trauma surgery, very carefully and slowly, until she came to a stop in front of a curtained bed. There, she already heard your pain-distorted grumbling while stilling in her movement.

Carina had never forgotten how your voice sounded, longed for it every single minute of the day. And now, hearing it without the hum of the phones terminating line, her heart was racing like the first time she had met you. She was only centimeters away from you, as close as she had not been for a long time. "It hurts like hell!"

"I wanted to give you a pain hemmer but you refused," she heard the soft chuckle of Miranda Bailey and a stone rolled from her heavy heart. You were not badly injured, at least not bad enough to be concerned for your life. "Now live with it"

As the brunette doctor moved the curtain with a firm grip to gain access to you, she looked down at you with glassy eyes. Your clothes and face were spattered with dirt and blood, your jeans cut down on one leg to the thigh. Her eyes widened to the bulled hole in your femur, blood still dripping slightly through the stitches already in place.

"Bella, what happened? Stai bene?" (Are you alright?) her voice trembled and was overwhelmed by choked tears. She sneaked through the narrow space between bed and curtain and knelt down next to it. Her warm hand softly cupped your cold one, that was gripping the bed sheets, and squeezed it tightly.

"The deal was overrun by my colleagues. The shooting was in full swing and some were trying to escape. I wanted to help another police officer and I caught a ricochet myself. It is half as bad, it was a straight through shot"

Disorted in pain, your body tensed up briefly before relaxing shortly after; abruptly pinching the hand of your wife before your eyes turned back to her. Deeply, her fawn eyes stared at you, some pitiful tears welling up from them before they closed. "For a brief moment I thought I lost you, mi amor"

Thinking lines appeared on her face and you swallowed impercepitibly. You knew her mind was working through every negative scenario she had ever saw in movies. A faint smile appeared on your face and you broke away from her before you put your hand under her chin and tenderly pulled her to you. "Carina, look at me"

The addressed opened her eyes slightly, pure was immediately recognizable. A tear rolled down the Italian´s face and she grabbed your midsection to cross the last empty space between you. "You did not lost me. I am still here"

Gentle kisses spread across her ruddy cheeks, forehead and nose; trying to catch her bitter tears. You hated when she cried. But you hated yourself even more for causing those sadness upon her. Such a great woman like Carina did not deserve to be in a constant state of fear and you were more than sorry. It broke your heart and shattered it into pieces. 

"You won't do me another mission like this. Mai più, capito?" (Never again, understand?) she said insistently. Her arms broke free from you and crossed over her crumpled pink scrubs, expertly starting to pout. "Se lo fai di nuovo, ti uccido io stesso" (If you do it again, I'll kill you personally)

That it was your last police operations for the time being, which you would do in the next few weeks, was more than clear to you. But you did not care. The most important thing you had to worry about now was your wife, whom you had neglected for weeks, and your health.

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[blackopals-world]

An Ancient Tale

Part 1

Writer!Yuu goes snooping and finds an interesting story they want to tell you.

I was looking around Crowley's office and found this dusty old book hidden in a secret compartment.

Don't ask why I was there.

Still I doubt he's read in a century so he won't miss it. Besides it's not a textbook it's a story book.

Let's see.

Once upon a time a child appeared. They came from a land far far away or perhaps another world.

They claimed that they were a traveler who was tasked to explore this world and learn all that it holds. They said they had explored many realms and would explore many more. But there was a problem when they fell to this world. They were separated from their friend, another traveler in this world. The traveler desperately wanted to find their friend to finished their task and move on to the next world.

The child of course had no actual knowledge of the world or its language at first. They roamed until they made it to the Court of Roses where the queen taught the child well.

Straight back, eyes forward, and absolutely no mumbling!

The child had to learn many things on a strict schedule from singing, baking, croquet and all things else the queen enjoyed. All was well until another child, a traveler from elsewhere came to wonderland.

The child had hoped it was their dear friend, but no such thing happened. This Alice child only created disorder and chaos where she went. The people of the kingdom frowned upon outsiders now and demanded that both children should leave and a new rule be made.

The queen had her pride but she was a good ruler at heart. Alice and the child were both banished but not without a plan.

The child would be sent far away to a friend and fellow queen.

The child stood before the queen of the fairies and displayed only the best manners as they told their story.

Perhaps the fae queen had a softer heart than what was told or perhaps she had bigger plans. Regardless she took pity on the child and let them stay at the castle. The child lived in a small room hidden in the back of the castle library where prying eyes wouldn't find them.

Every day the child studied under the queen. They traded their elaborate heart-red and rose-white gowns for black robes.

"Your Majesty, I still need to find my friend." The child said tugging on the gown of the fae queen.

The queen hummed in thought. She didn't want the child to go but the child's journey must continue.

The queen sent the child to a place where answers would be found. To the place of the Fairest Queen where the magic mirror would be found.

The child found that the witch queen had very high expectations and demanded perfection. The Fairest Queen wouldn't let the child ask the magic mirror anything until she saw that the child had earned it. So every day the child was set to work with tasks to be finished.

One day a strange man had been spotted in the courtyard while the young princess and the child had been cleaning. The man was quite scary to the child as he was strange and looked at them like meat.

The child fled the the queen's side and told her of what had happened.

The queen was smart and called the huntsman. She had known for some time that the princess's beauty was in fact a curse. As the princess grew the curse would become more powerful until the day she came of age and her beauty would cause men to literally rip her apart to get a piece of her. The queen checked the mirror every day to make sure the curse hadn't surpassed her own beauty as the most radiant woman in the land. She had covered her daughter in soot and grime to keep eyes off her as the queen worked on the cure for the curse but alas she had been found, now there was no telling what that man would do.

The queen had the princess taken away and ordered a pig to be slaughtered. The heart would be used to prove the princess was dead and not to look for her.

The child was sent away as well to pick magic apples as a last task.

"Listen to me child for I have words you must hear. In this world there are a great many blessings to be found but what may sound like a gift could easily be a curse. Be wary of all things gifted to you because only what you do by your own hands can be trusted." The queen said dipping the apples in the potion. " You and my daughter are alot alike she has always hated medicine so I'd often coat her favorite fruits with it."

The child saw how how much she cared no matter how it appeared like she didn't on the outside.

The queen was true to her promise and asked the magic mirror to show where the other traveler had gone. The mirror showed images of far-off sand dunes and a young man making his way through the land.

The child smiled and glee and thanked the queen who promised to send the child to an old friend of hers. He was the sorcerer of the sands.

When the child left for their journey the queen had mentioned being busy as she had to invade a kingdom of a man who had stolen her daughter.

The child was sent to the palace of the sultan where they had been ushered to the sorcerer's tower. There they learned the nature of humans. Sweet words disguised true intentions and being smart didn't always equal power, cunning is required to be heard.

The child posed as a ward of the Sorcerer and had to learn the ways of this ruthless land. They often took shelter inside to stay away from the dangerous streets. They would rather avoid losing a hand after being accused of stealing.

"Why doesn't the sultan do something?" The child asked.

The sorcerer grumbled before responding resolutely.

"He lives in ignorance. That is why am his vizier. However only so much can be done to stop disorder when your leader doesn't pay any attention."

The child didn't understand but listened to orders. They even listened to the constant complaints of the princess who they didn't understand either. She talked about leaving the palace constantly, not knowing just how good she had it there. Say what you want about a guided cage the child had known what it was like to be without food or clothes.

But that was long ago...when they were alone. Before their beloved friend found them and they journeyed here.

Still, the child could understand the princess's wanderlust even if the princess knew nothing of the world.

It wasn't long before the vizier planned to leave on a trip and the child begged to go as well. They wanted to search for their friend only to be brushed off and admonished for being impatient.

The child unwisely decided to sneak out of the palace themselves following the princess but lost her in the crowd.

The child ordered the guards to look for her.

But what twist of fate that when the child found not only the princess but a thief and...her friend!

It was clear to see that they had taken different paths. The child wore fine silks while they're friend wore clothes made for wondering the sands.

Their friend was equally happy to see them until the child asked for her friend to come with them but didn't trust the thief that was with them.

"He's my friend. You can't just judge him for his looks. Why are you siding with those guards?" He said staying close to the thief.

"Im not. He's a thief and he was found with the princess. He will be taken for questioning. I'll vouch for his innocence of kidnapping her highness. The vizier will handle this fairly." The child said gesturing to the guards.

The friends argued and neither seemed to understand the other. They had been divided by the customs of a land neither truly understood and adapted differently.

But the guards betrayed them both as they took both the thief and their friend away despite the child's protest.

Reluctantly the child and the princess were taken back to the palace. Both having been separated from someone they trusted.

When the sorcerer returned the child begged him to set her friend free from the dungeons. Of course when the cell was opened it was empty as her friend had escaped. As for the thief, that is another story about where he went.

Disheartened the child tried to understand, however they blamed the thief for everything. And they didn't like the Prince Ali fellow who arrived shortly after.

"Lies are the enemy of logic, child. The truly wise have no need of them." The Sorcerer said pulling the child away from the display of dancing elephants. "Without insight and consideration, you will become like the countless fools who fall for flashy and dangerous displays. Think about if you'll trust someone just because of a past friendship."

The child knew deep down her friend was still close but this place...this wasn't the right time. To much about this situation felt like a kettle boiling over.

They departed from the land of golden sand to return lands of the fey queen. They had to reconsider what comes next. On the morning of their departure a note was left on their pillow.

"I'm sorry. I know you were just doing what you thought was right. Don't worry, I'll find you again. I just have to finish what i started."

They left in a lighter mood.

They traveled for many days until they reached the docks to board a ship head for the Shaftlands.

But a storm struck and threw them overboard. Had it not been for the generosity of the sea witch who had saved them.

On a desolate rock the sea witch offered a deal to them so they could survive without dying there. The child could only offer their service to her as long as the sea witch protected them.

A deal was struck and the child gave up their legs to work for the sea witch.

It wasn't a bad life, they ran errands for their mistress in the coral city. But the kingdom was loud and bright filled with sycophants who were obsessed with beauty and song. Everyone was content to float away their days while those outside the city walls were the ones who hunted in the open sea and brought back the food they indulged in.

The poor child had no beautiful fins, only the visage of their mistress. The other children of the kingdom did not take kindly to their appearance and mocked their legs and colors along with their unfamiliarity with their customs.

When they would return to their cave home they would need comfort from their mistress.

"Don't listen to those sea urchins dear, you are very beautiful. Prettier then most of those fools with the most deep and vibrant colors ever seen. Our kind can change our colors as we wish which is more than they can do. Not to mention we are smarter too." She said seating the child a her boudoir.

The child watched their mistress make deals with the mers that left their golden city and every time they wished for petty things they could obtain themselves if they just tried. But no they wished for the easy solution but could not pay the price for it. Honestly, they likely had never been told no and their loves and the sea witch wasn't going to be the first.

One evening while her mistress was busy with of an important deal the child went out searching for oysters for dinner. A familiar face appeared, none other than her friend whose appearance had changed as well as he wore the tail of a dolphin of all things.

The excitement of reunion as crushed under the weight of previous events. Still they were happy to see one another.

"I can't wait to tell my mistress. She'd be pleased to meet you. I'll have to talk about our deal though." They said.

Their friend asked many questions but when they realized it was the sea witch they spoke of their expression went sour.

"She'll curse you if you do that. What made you crazy enough to make a deal with that hag!" He yelled.

"Well, she's treated me better than anyone down here. She saved me and I owe her. I like her." They said indignantly.

After arguing their friend swam away in a huff, however, the next day guards returned. Their intent was the apprehend the child for entering the city on behalf of the banished sea witch, something that wasn't actually a crime. During the chase, the child was wounded but thankfully escaped. What hurt most was that the person who was holding the spear to pin them down was none other then are frirend. As they returned to the cave their blood drew the attention of the sea witch who took pity on them.

"What hurts more than a wound is betrayal. I would know." She said wrapping the wound.

The sea witch said that they are served their purpose well but it was time to go.

"You are far too weak to survive the seas. You must go where your strength can grow."

The child was sent to the surface once more with a potion in hand.

When the found shore they drank the concoction and returned to human form. The land however was unfamiliar and they were now lost, alone and very naked.

Had it not been for the hyena people of the lands who found them they would surely have died. They fed and clothed them with what meager resources they had. In turn, the child helped how they could.

The child found kinship but missed their old life. They had once lived in palaces and courts but they had long since became an outcast. They also could clearly see that they were not so little as they once were, these years since their arrival in this world had welcomed change. They were reaching their teen years now but they were still too young for many things as the adults said.

Youthful courage is a powerful thing. So powerful the child desired to seek change from the royals who cared little for the hardworking hyenas and the other beasts they called scavengers. The other young beasts agreed as they protested. The child sought an audience with the king but was brushed aside but the king's brother listened even if half-heartedly at first. He said he cared but he had little power to change the king's mind. That was until the child told him their story of everything they had gone through.

Overnight the prince gathered the people of the slums and gave speeches and protested. The child had a new cause to believe in and fought for it. That is until everything went silent in the capital. The king was dead, an assassin had taken his life and the young prince was too young to rule. The royal family was wrecked with grief. The throne could only go to the king's brother who sent the young prince away to be protected until adulthood. The new king was more distant now but he never forgot his promise that all beasts would be equal whether they liked it or not. A new age would come to pass.

End of Part 1

The child had the fortune of being present at the coronation ball of the new king and like fate intended an old friend reared his head. This time the child did not fight. They simply accepted that this was how things were. Their friend tried to convince them not to side with a usurper and that this was against the order of things but they didn't listen.

They would never see eye to eye ever again.

#writer!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #yuuniverse