#me continuously moving or me standing still in one spot like a sitting duck lol. but there was a nice lady who passed where i was standing

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: i really just wanted to write some soft brady and then a little smut snuck in there whoops (don’t think anyone will complain lol) but anyway, i love this version of soft, domestic brady and i needed it for my sanity 🫠 also if anyone has any idea what brady’s dogs’ names are, that would be helpful otherwise i’m either going to rename them or just keep referring to them as “the dogs” 😭

word count: 3.2k

tw: pregnancy, innuendo, grinding, nipple play, otherwise it’s mostly just domestic fluff

summary: a quiet night in with brady gets handsy and then it’s not such a quiet night anymore

Brady’s sitting at the foot of the bed, baby monitor in hand, when you pad out of the bathroom, letting a cloud of lavender and eucalyptus steam dissipate into the air. He looks up at you and offers up a tired smile, “baby duck’s out like a light and I only had to read Curious George three times tonight.” He pauses and adds, “dogs are standing guard in the hallway outside her room too.”

“Down from four,” you smile, “I’m impressed, daddy.”

Brady’s lips tilt up in a smirk - you know exactly what you’re doing - and he sets the baby monitor down on the mattress. “Thought you were going to wait for me,” he says, “so we could shower together?”

You shake your head a little, the towel gaping open over your bump, exposing most of your lower half to your husband. You don’t miss the way his gaze flickers down to the swell of your stomach and lower. “I needed to wash off the day,” you say around a little yawn. “Growing two more Skjei babies is exhausting work.”

“C’mere,” he waves his hand in the air, pats the mattress. “Let me take care of you.”

Brady gets up from the mattress and pulls you in for a sweet kiss, cupping your jaw in one hand. You smile against his lips and sit down heavily on the mattress when he pulls away. Your hand automatically finds the curve of your stomach, the bump feeling harder and the babies rolling around under your skin. One of them kicks at your palm and you smile, hormonal tears welling up. You’ll never get over the feeling of them wiggling around inside of you.

“Lay back, sweetheart,” Brady encourages you softly, holding your Nivea body lotion in one hand. “Full service lotion and massage coming up.”

“Full service?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him while you lean back, hauling a pillow from the top of the bed down to tuck under your head. The towel that was barely wrapped around your body to begin with falls to your sides, leaving you completely exposed to Brady, the swell of your stomach blocking your view of him a little.

He gazes at you softly, eyes lingering on your fuller breasts and bare cunt. You prop up on the pillow a bit, smiling to yourself when you see the tenting behind his boxers. Not that you’re quite in the mood for sex right now, nausea your ever-present companion this pregnancy, but it’s nice to know that Brady’s still attracted to you.

“If that’s what you want,” Brady laughs quietly, pumping some lotion into the palm of his hand. He lifts your left foot and sets it on his thigh so he can start rubbing lotion into your skin. “You know I’m always happy to get my hands on you in any way I can.”

You hum happily, the faint pulse between your legs only adding to the experience of Brady’s impromptu massage. His thumbs dig into the ball of your foot and you groan as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. “Right there, oh my god. I didn’t realize how sore my feet were,” you sigh, wiggling your toes in his grip.

Brady continues his massage, making sure each of your muscles are loose before moving on. The babies tumble around in your womb, the familiar feeling as reassuring as your own heartbeat.

“Should we find you better sneakers or something?” Brady asks, switching to lotion and massage your other foot. Your leg splays out to the side, giving him the perfect view of your cunt and normally you’d feel mild embarrassment about being so exposed, even to your husband, but you’re too tired to even care. “You shouldn’t be wearing anything that has bad support.”

“Mhm, my Adidas ones are fine,” you hum, eyes closing a little as Brady’s hands work lotion into your skin. He massages the backs of your thighs and slides his hands under your body to cop a feel of your ass, under the guise of lotioning you up there too. You crack an eye open at him and he’s smiling boyishly. His hair flops over his forehead a little, eyes sparkling.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he presses a kiss to the inside of your knee. “You know I love your ass.”

“It used to be so nice too,” you sigh mournfully. You’re flatter than a pancake now, no matter how many pregnancy-safe squats you do. Brady pinches you gently.

“Still really nice,” he says, drawing his hands around your sides and resting them on your hips. “Whole body is gorgeous, my beautiful wife.”

You wrinkle your nose at him, “flatterer.” Your foot kicks gently at his thigh and he sticks his tongue out at you playfully. He sits in between your legs, dragging you forward a little so your legs are on either side of his, ass in the cradle of his legs, cunt nearly pressed against his clothed cock. More lotion gets pumped into his hands and he takes a minute to warm it up before smoothing it over the swell of your stomach. His hands are huge and span nearly across the entire bump, radiating warmth and making the babies kick.

“Can’t wait to feel these guys kick,” he says, rubbing his thumbs in little arcs over your skin. You can feel them react to his touch and smile softly.

“They’re going nuts right now,” you reply, shifting slightly. You wince when one of them gets a good, hard kick in. “All the Skjei babies love listening to their Daddy’s voice.”

He huffs a little laugh through his nose and continues massaging lotion into your skin, until your stomach is practically shiny. “How were salt and pepper today? Behaving?” He presses a kiss to your stomach, resting his cheek against the peak of the swell briefly. The rasp of his playoff beard against your skin sends a little shiver up your spine and heat between your legs.

You grin at the nicknames - ever since you’d found out it was twins, you and Brady have been referring to them by the names of famous duos. It’s been fun coming up with new pairings whenever you talk about the twins.

“Rolling around in there like little athletes-to-be,” you run a hand through Brady’s hair. “Salt’s hanging out low on my bladder and Pepper’s wedged up under my ribs. It already feels like they’re running out of room and we still have three and a half months to go.”

“Behave for your mama,” Brady mumbles against your stomach, tapping at the sides of your stomach with his fingers. The babies react to his voice and touch, jockeying for space and you wince a little until they settle. Brady looks up at you and once he’s satisfied that you’re comfortable, he adds another layer of lotion to your stomach before working his way up your chest, being gentle around your sore, swollen breasts. You sigh contentedly and relax back into the mattress, watching Brady’s hands work slowly and methodically over your chest, thumbs carefully passing over your nipples. They tighten under his touch and Brady smirks at you.

“My second favorite set of twins,” he teases, laughing. “Getting bigger by the day.”

“Shut up, perv,” you tease back, rolling your leg to knock against his side with your knee. “These are functional tits now, not for play.”

“Let me know when they’re for fun again,” Brady grins, still working his fingers over your skin. Your body knows and loves his touch, fingertips tingling and stomach tightening. You exhale, dropping your head back against the pillow and spreading your legs open a little wider. The hard press of Brady’s cock against your core is nice, the heat making you wiggle against him. His fingers falter a little against your skin.

You hum. “Maybe they can handle a little fun,” you murmur, pressing down as best you can over Brady’s groin. “Just a little.”

“Tell me when you’ve had enough, sweetheart,” Brady replies, rolling one of your pebbled nipples with his fingers You hiss at the sensation, arching a little into his touch. His other hand kneads at the swell of your breast, fingers digging into the curve that spills to the side of your torso. A frisson of desire curls your toes and you push up on one hand, trying to get a little more pressure from Brady’s cock.

“Ah, I…” you trail off, finding the position that has the ridge of Brady’s erection pressed right up against your swollen clit. “Oh! There!”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Brady murmurs, dipping his head to kiss you, sliding his tongue over your lower lip. His hips move slowly under you, rolling up into yours and pressing his cock against your clit. You sigh into his mouth, arms wrapped around his neck and nails scratching gently at his skin. He trails his mouth down over your neck, kissing and sucking lightly until he gets to the swell of your breast. He presses a sweet kiss to the top curve and then sucks your nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the pebbled nub. He pulls back almost as quick, sticking his tongue out and frowning. “Ugh, maybe I should’ve done that before lotioning you up. You taste like Nivea.”

You giggle, breathless. “Could’ve been worse,” you murmur, using your grip around his neck to shift until you’re straddling him, the curve of your stomach pressed against his, your clit right over his cock. His hands wrap around your back and hold you in place so you can grind down over him at your own pace. “At least I’m clean.”

Brady’s hips bounce up into yours and his hands roam up and down your back, the tight coil of your building orgasm gripping your lower stomach. You bury your face in his neck and gasp, arousal trickling down your thighs and soaking the fabric of Brady’s boxers. The damp fabric rubs against your clit, giving you just enough friction that you’re coming with a gush over Brady’s lap, panting from the exertion of moving your body and the diminished lung capacity from your growing stomach. All the extra blood flow in your body has you over sensitive and it’s never been easier to come, when you’re in the mood.

“Good girl,” Brady praises you, smoothing down your hair and pressing kisses over the parts of your face he can reach. “Feels good, right? Having a little fun?”

“Mhm,” you hum tiredly, slumped over his chest, thighs shaking. The babies kick wildly, your heartbeat jackhammering in your chest. “No more fun, too tired.”

Your husband laughs and lets you drape over him like a limp rag. “I know, but you needed that,” he scrapes his hand through your hair, pulling out the loose hair tie with the other before working your hair back up into a messy bun. “You feel like you’re about to pass out.”

“Just wanna cuddle with you,” you murmur, kissing the side of his neck. You shift on his lap, erection still poking into your ass. You feel bad, but your entire body is limp and you couldn’t help Brady get off if you tried.

Brady adjusts you, bracing one arm under your ass so he can lie you back down on the mattress. The front of his boxers are a mess and you wince at the tented fabric. He catches where your gaze lands and shakes his head, “hey, don’t worry about me. I’m going to clean you up and we’ll get into bed for some rest, okay?”

You yawn and nod, thighs still trembling as Brady goes about wiping between your legs with the towel from your shower. He finishes applying lotion to your arms, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing them when he’s done. At one point, he gets off the bed and comes back with your preferred loungewear - an extremely oversized waffle knit set of wide legged pants and pullover - gently manipulating your limbs into the fabric.

“You’re so good,” you mumble, half asleep. You crawl under the covers, pushing a pillow between your legs to get comfortable.

“You make it easy,” Brady counters, swapping his wet boxers for a clean pair before climbing into bed behind you. He pulls you close to his chest, wrapping his arms around you and tucking your head under his chin. One palm is warm and solid, curved protectively over your stomach. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.”

You’re asleep before he even finishes talking, waking up later, when you hear some noise coming from the baby monitor. A muffled grumble is all you can manage before Brady is kissing the top of your head, telling you that he’s got it. The mattress dips and shifts as he gets up and even though sleep is pulling at your eyelids, you start to wake up, yawning.

Through the monitor, you can hear Brady talking softly to Daphne, her toddler gibberish coming through loud and clear. A tap on the screen of your phone informs you that it’s only 2 in the morning, and she’s been sleeping through the night for at least a year now, so you wonder what woke her up. You roll over slightly and watch on the little screen as Brady lifts your daughter out of her crib, the dogs gathered around his legs. Daphne wraps her little arms and legs around Brady like an octopus and your heart squeezes at how cute they are, even in the shitty screen of the monitor. Brady stands by the crib, swaying a little, clearly trying to get her back to sleep.

It obviously doesn’t work, because soon enough, Brady is making his way out of the nursery that won’t be the nursery for much longer. The dogs follow him out of the room and in a few seconds, Brady’s back in your room, Daphne curled up against his shoulder and a wry smile on his face.

“What happened?” You ask quietly, pulling the covers back so they can join you in bed. The dogs are nowhere to be found and you assume they’re in a pile in the hallway as usual.

“Hi, mama!” Daphne chirps, too awake for this early in the morning. Her tiny fists are curled around the corner of her blanket and the collar of Brady’s shirt and she beams at you with that adorable toddler smile you love so much.

“Hi, my little duck,” you hold out your arms for her and she releases Brady to come to you, tucked safety against your chest, hand splayed right over your heart. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

Brady pulls the covers up around the three of you and props his head up on his hand, looking down at Daphne with a soft expression on his face.

“See nana,” she says against your shirt. “Time see nana?”

You stroke her soft hair, pulling the messy pieces off her forehead. “Oh, not yet, baby. It’s not time to see Nana. She’s coming in a couple of days, for Daddy’s big games,” you murmur soothingly. Brady’s parents are coming to Raleigh for the start of the playoffs in a few days and Daphne’s beyond excited to see them.

“Nana’s coming soon,” Brady promises. “But you have to go to sleep.”

“Nana now!” Daphne huffs, kicking her little feet. “See nana!”

“We’re going to spend so much time with Nana,” you continue to stroke her hair, encouraged by the way her eyelids take a few extra second to open when she blinks. “After Daddy’s big games, we’re going to Minnesota and we’re going to see Nana every day.”

You look over at Brady, “that reminds me, we need to finalize the plans. Because I don’t want to be flying back and forth after a certain point and I don’t want Hall and Oates to be born in Minnesota.”

He rubs his hand over Daphne’s back steadily. “We can always drive. But we’ll be back home weeks before the babies are due,” he reassures you. “Can’t stay too long anyway, with training camp starting.”

You hum, looking forward to a few weeks in Minnesota with Brady’s family and a quiet summer spent by the lake. Daphne tugs at your shirt and you look down at her, waiting. She pats your stomach and grins, “babies! Mama babies!”

“That’s right,” you smile tiredly, cuddling her close. “The babies are here with Mama and Daddy. They’re Daphne’s babies, right? You’re going to be such a good big sister.”

She wriggles away from your embrace, flopping onto her back, arms and legs starfished in between you and Brady. Heaving a sigh that’s very dramatic for such a small frame, she reaches one hand to grab at Brady’s shirt again. “Dada, book?” She blinks up at him with wide eyes and a little smile.

Brady’s head falls back against the pillow dramatically and you giggle along with Daphne, who’s amused by Daddy’s silliness.

“Daffy duck wants another story?” Brady asks, kissing Daphne’s cheeks until she’s giggling madly, squirming around on the bed. You don’t love that he’s riling her up, but they’re honestly too adorable to say anything.

“Book!” She confirms on a giggled squeal. “George!”

“Curious George?” Brady groans. “Nothing else?

Daphne shakes her head at him with a wide smile on her face. You laugh at him, “that’s one on the Curious George count for today.”

“Don’t remind me,” he mutters, climbing back out of bed and flipping the covers up so you both stay warm. Daphne presses her blanket close to her face and yawns, rolling onto Brady’s side of the bed while he’s gone. You pat at her little pajama covered butt and she whips her head over to give you a little squint.

“No, mama!” She tells you seriously. “I s’eep.”

You barely stifle a snort. This kid.

“Okay, baby, you sleep,” you tell her, managing to smile just a little bit. “We’ll keep the bed warm for Daddy.”

Brady’s back less than two minutes later, bright yellow Curious George book in hand. He stops short when he sees Daphne on his side of the bed and plants his hands on his hips. “Hey, that’s Daddy’s side,” he tells her, faux-seriously, breaking into a chuckle.

She giggles up at him from behind her hands. “Daddy in middle!”

“Nope,” Brady shakes his head, “Daphy in middle. Scoot.”

She wiggles her entire body in the way only a two-year-old can, kicking at blankets and sheets. Brady gives her a little nudge with one hand and she shimmies to the side, making space for him. You wrap her up in your arms, holding her tight, kissing the top of her head.

It’s so early and you’re going to be exhausted in the morning, but as Brady starts reading the book he could definitely recite from memory at this point, Daphne’s attention wholly on the pictures, you’ve never been more glad for the wake up.

Daphne’s little hand wraps around your fingers draped over her little baby gut and her cheek is squished against your inner bicep. Her tiny body radiates heat like a furnace and you’re just soaking up all the moments where it’s just the three of you.

Under the covers, Brady lets his legs drift over and tangle with yours, sharing a soft smile with you over Daphne’s head. He winks at you and you beam back, letting your eyes drift shut and Brady’s voice lull you to sleep.

#brady skjei #brady skjei x reader #brady skjei x you #brady skjei fic #nhl fic

[hollybell51]

Chapter Six

Gotta follow your master

Our Treasure - Jim Hawkins x fem!Reader

Chapter Five, masterpost

Word count: 1114 

Summary: John’s “little palaver” goes sour, you say more things you regret. So does Jim. 

Notes: more of my attempted angst, sorry not sorry. Don’t forget this is on AO3 too if you wanna read it there for some reason, just gonna keep pushing it lol

“Lass.” You raised your head at John’s voice, sitting up and straightening your crumpled shirt. “We’re goin’ down,” he continued, “Meltdown shot their longboat outta the sky, saw it crash on the planet.”

“Is Jim alright?” you asked, then at his frown added: “I mean, because of the map.”

“I don’t know,” he said, still frowning, “but you’d be best to watch yourself.”

You nodded, sitting back as the crew jumped aboard, each taking up positions on the benches.

The descent was smooth, and at any other time you would have admired the strange beauty of the planet. All around, lumpy mushroom-like plants reached for the clouded sky, vines and moss coating the ground. But this wasn’t any other time, and all you could think about was Jim. You’d come to accept that he’d more than likely heard you say that he was nothing to you, which was one of the biggest lies you’ve ever told. Maybe if you found him and the others you could explain.

You trekked through the odd forest (forest?) for around an hour before you finally came to a large, cleared area. Across the plain was an odd sort of building with a large hole in the front of it. On closer inspection, it looked like a very skinny person was standing in the doorway, waving at you.

“Hey fellas!” they shouted, jumping up and down. “Hey, we’re over here!”

The crew rushed forwards, guns drawn, and began firing at the figure, who quickly ducked out of sight. Someone was shooting back at you from the entrance, and you caught your breath. Was that where they were hiding? Was Jim in there?

“Stop wastin’ your fire!” John yelled, limping up to the rest of you. The gunshots stopped among mutters of disappointment as the old cook tied a piece of white cloth onto a stick, holding it high. “Hello up there!” he called, heaving himself up the hill towards the building. “Jimbo? If ah, if it’s alrigh’ with the Captain, I’d like a short word wit’ ya. No tricks, just a little palaver.”

You scrambled up beside him, shielding your eyes against the brightness of the sky as you stared up at the house. “Nice place,” you noted dryly, indicating the copious amounts of vines spilling from the entrance. But you did quite like the way it looked, it had a look that distinctly said “haunted ruins” to you. Or perhaps you were simply being fanciful. 

“Are you sure that it’s a good idea for you to be here?” John asked carefully, glancing at the knife handles visible on your belt. You didn’t say anything, just pulled your shirt down and squared your shoulders, lifting your chin.

After a few seconds of waiting, you spotted someone clambering over the edge of the hole in the front of the building, sliding down the ivy and landing gracefully a few metres away. Jim dusted his hands, then walked towards John and you cautiously. The handle of a gun was visible at his waist. 

“Hey Morph,” you smiled as the little guy zoomed towards you, swirling around your finger.

“Ah, I wondered where you’d nicked off to!” John said as Morph moved to him, cooing brightly. He sat down on a rock, groaning and rubbing at his damaged leg. “Oh, this old leg’s downright snarky since that game o’ tag we had in the galley, ‘ey?” he chuckled.

Jim glared at him. His eyes flicked briefly to you, then to your hand, then away again. You pressed your lips firmly together, keeping your face as neutral as possible.

“Whatever you heard back there,” John began, seriously this time, “at least the part concerning you, I didn’t mean a work of it. If that blood-thirsty lot had thought I’d gone soft, they’d have gutted us both!”

Still, Jim didn’t say anything.

“Now listen to me,” John moved closer, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “If we play our cards right, all three of us can walk away from this rich as kings!”

“Yeah?” Jim asked, his interest piqued.

John smiled. “You get us that map, and an even portion of the treasure is yours! ‘ey?” he extended a hand, still grinning.

“Boy,” Jim sighed, and his face darkened. “You are really something. All that talk of greatness, light coming off my sails, what a joke.”

“Well see here, Jimbo--!”

“At least you taught me one thing!” he continued, “stick to it, right? Well that’s just what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna make sure that you never see one doubloon of my treasure! Either of you!” He turned to you, but looked away quickly.

“That treasure is owed me, by thunder—”

“Well good luck tryna find it without my map, by thunder!”

“Oh, you still don’t know how to pick your fights, do you boy?” the cook growled. “Now, mark me. Either I get that map by dawn tomorrow, or so help me, I’ll use the ship’s cannons to blast you all to kingdom come!” He turned, calling sharply: “come on, lass. Morph! Blast it.” He cursed when Morph stayed with Jim.

You started after him, but stopped. He didn’t notice, he was too angry.

“You better go, right?” Jim said, glaring at your feet. “Gotta follow your master.”

“I—” You stopped, lost for words. You felt like you might throw up again, only there was nothing left in your stomach.

“Or are you gonna throw another knife at me? Maybe you won’t miss this time.”

“I hit exactly what I was aiming at, when I was aiming at it,” you hissed.

“Yeah, me!” he shouted, stepping forwards. “You know, I really thought we had something, (Y/N). But I’m nothing to you, right? Just a way to get the treasure?”

You should have told him that that was a lie. You should have told him that you were sorry, that you didn’t mean anything you said, and that he meant way more than is rational to you. You should have told him that if you had to choose between him and that treasure, you would choose him every time. You should have told him the truth.

But you didn't. Instead, you withdrew a knife from your belt and tossed it to him, spinning it so that he could catch it by the handle. He did, staring down at it then back at you. 

“Keep it,” you said, horrified to hear the tremor in your own voice. You turned around before he could see the tears in your eyes, walking with as much dignity as you could muster.

“(Y/N)—” he started, but you cut him off.

“Gotta follow my master,” you spat.

Chapter Seven

#treasure planet #treasure planet fanfic #self insert #self insert fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #jim hawkins #jim hawkins x reader #jim kawkins x yn #work in progress #multi chapter #some angst #angst #fem!reader #reader insert #fluff #disney #disney movies #teenage romance #slowburn if you squint #slow burn #orphan #slavery (mentioned) #angst with a happy ending #happy ending #happy endings for everyone #angst with comfort #angst with fluff #moral ambiguity #space

[chiruba]

JJK BOYS' REACTING TO S/O IN A BUNNY OUTFIT !

req. hiii bestie !! i can smell potential in this account, so i'm here for a request ! jjk boys' reaction to their s/o wearing a bunny girl/boy outfit (they lost a bet) ?? maybe with... megumi, inumaki and gojo ?? thank you and i give you all my love and support for your work!!!❤️❤️️

an. HII BESTIE!! i loved this req omg and thank u for supporting me!! hope i did this req justice <3

ft. gojo, fushiguro, inumaki x fem!reader

wc. 1.5k

genre. fluff

tw. a lil suggestive but like 99% sfw

► MASTERLIST ► TAGLIST ►

GOJO SATORU ►

— this mf would be so cocky and teasing about it

— definitely the type to whistle and wiggle his eyebrows

— he's probably the one that made the bet with you

— and of course he made it knowing he'd win

"satoru!" you whine from behind the closed bathroom door, thoroughly embarrassed. "are you kidding? i'm not wearing this!" well, to be fair, you were already wearing it, but coming out of your sacred space the bathroom in it? absolutely not.

"come on!" you heard him say, his tone clearly teasing and excited. "you lost the bet, after all!"

"and you cheated to win!"

"baby-"

"no."

gojo let out a dramatic sigh, and you could practically imagine him pressing an exaggerated hand to his heart. "fine!" he said, letting out another sigh, "i guess our bets mean nothing to you."

"it's a stupid bet, satoru-"

"i understand, don't worry." you groaned, rolling your eyes at your boyfriend's usual childish antics. you could hear him shuffling from the other side of the door, "i'll just go to bed." you let a sigh, glancing to the large mirror to your right, your reflection staring back at you. you felt your face get hot at the thought of showing this to gojo. i mean, you could use it to try and get back at your boyfriend for all the times he'd teased you, and maybe even fluster him a bit? impossible, but a girl can dream.

"...fine." you grumble so quietly you're unsure if he even heard it - until you hear the giddy squeal come out of your boyfriend's mouth from the other side of the door, catching you so off guard that you can't help but let out a snort. before you even have a chance to do so yourself, gojo swings open the door and catches you as you stumble out.

he grins at you cheekily, one eyebrow raised and a low whistle sounding from his lips. "you were already wearing it?" he asks, and before you can respond a bright light flashes in your eye, and you realise he's taking pictures.

"satoru!" you go to cover your head, immediately regretting your decision. "i'm changing back right now!" you exclaim and try to rush back into the bathroom, only to be stopped by him pulling you back gently, his chest colliding with your body.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI ►

— BLUSHY BABY!

— he'd be so embarrassed even looking at you LOL

— doesn't mean he won't look though

— would probably be like "what are you doing?" all grumbly and annoyed

— but his eyes stay trained on you and the outfit

you didn't think last week that your saturday night would be spent waiting on your boyfriend's bed, dressed head to toe in a bunny girl outfit while you waited for him to get done showering. it originally began when nobara showed you a funny tiktok of someone else pranking their significant other while they were dressed in a bunny outfit, and you'd both joked about doing it to your respective significant others. you had teased nobara, doubting that maki would be flustered even by such an outfit, which then led her to tease you about how fushiguro wouldn't even bat an eye at it. and, well, here you are.

you want to blame nobara for this entire fiasco, but you can't help the scratch of curiosity you yourself have about your antisocial boyfriend's reaction. if you're being entirely honest, the thought of making him flustered makes you a bit giddy. you decide to wrap yourself in his bed covers, seeing that fushiguro's designated showering time is ending soon, and then duck your head under the covers like a child hiding from a monster. the door lock clicks, and you hear the familiar sound of the sliding door.

"what are you doing?" fushiguro asks, closing the door behind him as he makes his way over to the mound on his bed. you giggle and hug the covers closer.

"take a guess," you tease, and you were sure if you could see him he'd be rolling his eyes.

"i don't know," he responded bluntly, "are you cold? i'll warm you up." you could hear the slight grumble in his voice at the last part, clearly still getting used to voicing his affections. it made your heart flutter a little, and you decided to stop teasing, mostly because it was the first time today you'd be able to see your boyfriend's face. you quickly pulled the covers back, sitting up on his bed as you stared up at fushiguro with an innocent grin.

"wha?!-" fushiguro spluttered, pink immediately beginning to stain his cheeks. his mouth hang open as he stared at you, eyes rapidly glancing around your outfit. "what are you doing?" he asked, gulping obviously after his sentence.

"what do ya think?" you teasingly asked, deciding to stand up and give a quick spin around, only flustering fushiguro further. "maybe this should be my halloween outfit? oh, we could even match! you could be a magician-" fushiguro let out a noise similar to a growl, and the next thing you knew, you were back in his bed, covers one again wrapped around your body like a cloak.

"no." he said plainly, and you had to hold back your laughter.

"no? no what, love?" he scrunched up his face at the nickname, but you could tell he liked it just by the simple fact that he'd never told you to stop. your teasing smile dropped when he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting on your ear as he whispered,

"i wanna be the only one to see you that way."

INUMAKI TOGE ►

— he got so flustered at first omg

— and said the one word that came to his mind - "wow."

— inumaki has such great control when it comes to his speech, he already knew it would be a safe word

— what he doesn't have great self-control over is, honestly, his love for you

— inumaki's just so amazed at how you're his s/o

— after he gets over his initial flustered reaction, he tackles you in affection <3

you were sure that you've never been more embarrassed in your life than now. nobara had suggested the grand idea of playing 'truth or dare' for girls' night, and sadly, your turn had ended up in maki's hands. you thought that maki couldn't come up with anything too bad, especially not this late at night, and so you went with the dare.

...and now here you are, dressed in a bunny girl outfit, standing in the middle of your boyfriend, inumaki toge's, room. the outfit was bought last halloween as a complete joke between the three of you, and you had completely forgotten about it afterwards, keeping it in the deepest part of your closet. how had maki even come up with that on the spot? damn her brains. your phone pinged, vibrating on inumaki's desk where you had put it, and you glanced over to see nobara's text;

'he's coming!!'

the simple message made your heart pound, your head frantically snapping back to look at the door as you waited for your boyfriend to come through. you held your breath when you heard a key being inserted into the door, and a small noise of surprise when inumaki realised the door wasn't locked. he quickly understood that you were most likely in his room.

"kombu-" inumaki froze, quite literally froze. it reminded you of the times he'd unzipped his collar and whispered the words "don't move,", his enemies bodies going rigid just as his just did.

you began to speak, and then realised, what the fuck were you meant to say in this situation? you'd been so focused on when inumaki would come through the door, you hadn't even thought about what to say when he did. you quite literally felt the way your heart fluttered when you heard inumaki let out a quiet breath, and you heard him whisper,

"wow."

it was already rare to hear your boyfriend's soft voice, even when he was simply speaking in onigiri ingredients, and you were shocked that you had caused this much of a reaction from him.

inumaki finally took back control of his body as he dropped the plastic white bag full of late-night snacks he was out getting, quickly shutting the door behind him and rushing over to you. his arms snaked around your waist, and you stumbled when he pulled you from the middle of his room to his bed.

"toge!" you yelled, arms wrapping around him automatically. you giggled when he began bombarding you in kisses, kissing you on the tip of your nose, the corners of your mouth and continually along your jaw, each a sweet peck full of affection that was more than enough to convey inumaki's feelings. "toge," you whined, now lowering your voice, "maki and nobara are probably right outside the door!" inumaki continues to hold you close while he reaches into his shorts pockets, pulling out his phone and typing a quick message, still giving you sweet pecks as you read his text.

'too bad. ur mine now <3'

ill give u a kiss goodnight if u reblog <3 

©  2021 sinrinyoku — please do not repost, translate, modify or plagiarize my work! i will beat the shit out of u (maybe)

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo hcs #inumaki x reader #inumaki to/ge x reader #jjk inumaki #inumaki to/ge #inumaki fluff #inumaki hcs #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro fluff #fushiguro hcs #jujutsu kaisen inumaki #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen gojo

[noctumbra]

𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆

summary ─ he couldn’t say anything. his brain was screaming at him to say something, but his tongue wasn’t cooperating. the lump in his throat wasn’t helpful, either.

pairing ─ fuckboy!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ angst, ANGST, implied smut, language, alcohol consumption, reader is drunk, phone calls, emotions are bitch is the short version lol 

a/n ─ henlo, i’m back but without a smut this time because something like this was mandatory lmao hope you like it! please let me know if you do and what you think about this, thank you <333

the (after) party [part one] ─ loft music [part two]

Bucky frowned deeply as he lifted himself off the bed and ditched the condom. The brief satisfaction and relief came with the sex had already washed away from his body, leaving him with a miserable feeling that he desperately tried to ignore but failed almost all the time.

He reached for his jeans after ditching the condom in the trash he spotted in the bathroom and cleaned himself with a couple wet wipes. His t-shirt was thrown over the chair at the corner of the room, so Bucky walked there to get it. He vaguely remembered his shoes being discarded at some place that was close to the door, but he had to find his socks before he got to his shoes.

“You’re leaving already?” He heard Dot ask. Her voice carried the typical disappointed tone. Bucky nodded instead of answering verbally, his eyes were searching for his socks ─ they were on the ground by her closet. Bending down, he grabbed and put them on. “I thought we could cuddle a bit,” she whined. Bucky barely surpassed his eye-roll. He didn’t like very much when women he had been with whined other than having sex.

“Got things to do,” he murmured distractedly. He checked for his wallet and phone by patting his jacket’s pockets. Both were there, so he only had to get his shoes and he could leave.

“You always say that,” she whined again. Bucky sighed harshly but stayed quiet. He pulled his jacket on and briefly ducked into the bathroom to fix his hair. When he decided that he didn’t look debauched anymore, he walked out.

“Because I have things to do,” he gritted through his teeth. As he walked out of the room, he heard the rustle of the sheets and her soft but stubborn footsteps.

“Can I see you again?” Dot asked, moving in front of him before he could open the front door and sneaked out. “I really had a good time, baby.” She batted her lashes, gave him a sly smirk, mischievous sparks were going off in her eyes. Her hands grabbed front of his jacket, and she lifted herself on her tiptoes; now they were nose to nose. “Like tomorrow? Can I see you then?” Bucky shrugged, making her hands fell from his jacket and he took a step back.

“No,” he said. “One night stand term means one night,” he added, practically hissing. He made a move to the door but froze when he heard her.

“Then why did you fuck Y/N for months?” Dot snarled. “Everybody knew, knew that you fucked her for months and saw her again and again─” Bucky turned his body to her. In a blink, he was in front of her and crowded her against the wall. She looked at him, fear all over her face.

“You’re not her,” Bucky hissed. “You’ll never be her. Talk shit about her like that again, it won’t end pretty for you, baby.” Bucky looked at her for another couple seconds and then stormed out of the apartment.

As he walked down the empty street, his body was strangely cold. His chest was heaving with harsh breaths, his eyes were stinging and he had to blink to clear his sight before he realized that he had fucking tears in his eyes.

He sniffed as he wrapped his jacket around his body and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Shoulder up to his ears, Bucky walked down the street with his eyes stinging from the tears he’s been desperately trying to hold back. He didn’t remember a time where he wanted to cry, where he felt… vulnerable. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way, couldn’t see any reason for it, except─

Bucky sighed. The words he said to Dot filled his mind. Shit, he thought. Dot was so going to tell that to everyone. When Bucky took a moment to think about that, that Dot telling everyone what he said to her, he found himself not giving any flying fucks about it. He didn’t care. She could tell anyone she wanted to, Bucky didn’t care.

Because it was the truth.

Dot was not you, would never be you, not in a million years. It really wouldn’t end pretty for Dot if she were to continue talk shit about you ─ which Bucky assumed Dot was going to because she’d most likely to be jealous now. Good, Bucky thought. Dot was great in bed, Bucky liked how vocal she was and how she told him whatever she wanted at that moment, but she wasn’t a very good person other than that. He could care less.

Bucky took a deep breath. There was a lump sitting in his throat, eyes stinging still, and his nose was burning a bit. He wanted to let go, but he didn’t know how. He never let go before.

Just as he sniffed and blinked a couple times to get rid of the tears, he heard his phone going off in his pocket. Pausing for a second on the sidewalk, he pulled it out only to see your name flashing back at him on his phone screen. Bucky frowned. The worry filled his chest, and whoa, it never happened before, and he accepted the call.

“YN/?” He said, the frown still visible on his face, and his eyes were still teary but there was worry in them, now. “Are you okay?” He didn’t hear anything for a short while. There was no sound, no background noise or your voice ringing in his ear. Frown deepening, Bucky pulled the phone off his face to check if you were still on the line, and you were. “Y/N? Are you there?”

“Why didja hav’to fuck me up like t’at?” You finally said, words slurring. Bucky blinked. Were you drunk? You never slurred unless you were drunk out of your mind.

“Y/N, where are you?” Bucky asked immediately. His mind was going off places where you might be, and some terrible imaginative scenes were playing in his mind. “I’m comin’ to pick you up,” he said. “Where are you, baby?” He didn’t mean to call you that, but it became a habit after all the time he spent with you.

He heard you chuckle adorably in his ear. “I love when you call me that,” you said, making him smile faintly. The worry was still there, though. “Makes me feel like ‘m somethin’ precious.” Bucky swallowed the words ‘it’s because you’re’, only to make the lump sitting on his throat bigger. “Why didja have to do it?”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked right back. He had no idea what you were talking about and figured if he made you talk, you might tell him where you were. He heard you sniff and some glasses clinking. There was a faint cheering sound on the background. “Baby, where are you?”

“You made me fall in love with you,” you murmured, and it was the most sober you sounded since he picked up. Bucky froze. His somehow already cold body was even colder now, his lungs were rejecting the oxygen and he felt his eyes burning even more. The muscle in his jaw clenched. “I loved you, but you walked away. Why did you do it?”

What could he possibly to say to that?

Because I was scared that I love you, too?

Because I’m a fuck up, and you deserve better?

Because I love you so much, I’d kill for you?

None of the answers would justify what he did, he knew, but goddammit, he was fucking scared. He didn’t want to get hurt again; he went through that heartbreak once and it was enough for him for a lifetime. After that phase of his life, he became cruel to his partners, he knew this, too. He took his pain and anger out of them most of the time, and the thought of he might have fallen in love again was terrifying.  

“You left me behind at that party,” you continued. “I know we broke up way before that─” You cut yourself off with an emotionless laugh that sounded much more like a sob. “Did we even have a relationship, Bucky?” You sounded so upset, so small and sad, all Bucky wanted to do was to reach out to you through his phone and give you a big hug. “I always thought we did, but I knew you never see me in that way. I know I’m not enough.”

Oh, it hurt.

It hurt like motherfucker.

Bucky felt his heart skip a few beats, seizing up in its small cage, as the tears in his eyes finally rolled down his cheeks. The tears burned their way down his frozen face, his tingling nose was a great company to its burn. He couldn’t say anything. His brain was screaming at him to say something, but his tongue wasn’t cooperating. The lump in his throat wasn’t helpful, either.

“I loved how special you made me feel,” you murmured with a small voice, it felt like you were smiling. Sniffing lightly, you continued. “I liked how you got to know me so well. It made me feel like I was being cared for, like someone was finally giving their attention to me fully.”

Bucky tried to swallow the lump so that he could say something, but it didn’t budge. His throat was burning with the urge to scream; tears still rolling down on his cheeks and wetting his face, his body was an ice cube, but your voice warmed him up a bit.

He knew he had to come forward with his feelings, he had to face with them, but he was scared; so scared that it was making him slowly lose the best thing in his life.

“You broke my heart, but I love you anyway,” you whispered. “Why I love you still, Bucky? I don’t want to. It only hurts me more.” Bucky’s chin trembled. You didn’t want to love him, and he made that. He caused that. He hated himself for it. He hated how fucked up he was to make you hate to love someone.

Sniffing, Bucky cleared his throat. “Y/N,” he started. “Where are you?” He heard you sob, more glass clinking and suddenly, all the noise was cut off. “Y/N?” Please, he thought, please tell me where you are, please.

“It hurt me to kick you out the other night,” you said instead. Bucky closed his eyes, sending another wave of tears down his cheeks. “All I wanted to do was to snuggle with you like we used to, but that night at the party… You hurt me so much, James.”

Fuck, Bucky forgot how much heartbreak could hurt him, how much pain it had brought with itself. His heart was skipping beats, his body felt cold and strange to him, his hands were trembling and his eyes kept producing more tears.

Bucky was hurting. He was hurting so much.

He hated himself for being a coward.

“Y/N,” Bucky said. “I’m begging you, please, please, tell me where you are, baby. Please.” He listened to your sniffs and soft sobs for a minute. He waited patiently for you to answer him. His head was buzzing, a headache was slowly tearing its way through, his eyes were hurting from all the silent crying he was doing and he was cold.

He craved your hug. They always made him feel warm.

“Transviolet,” you whispered. “I don’t wanna see you, though. Just makes me wanna cry.” Bucky sighed. He knew where you were now, and even though it was going to hurt you to see him, he had to make sure that you were alright and safe. Taking a deep breath, Bucky looked around. Surprisingly, he was very close to Transviolet.

“Five minutes, baby,” he said. “I know you don’t wanna see me, but I wanna make sure you’re alright. Don’t go anywhere, okay?” Bucky quickly crossed the street, using his long legs to his advantage; he started to take big steps, almost running. “Stay with me. Stay on the phone.” He heard your soft hum of approval.

“Dunno if I ever stop,” you murmured when he round the corner to the street that led to the bar you were waiting for him.

“Stop what, honey?” Bucky kept the conversation going, he had to. He couldn’t let you go non-verbal on him while you were this drunk. You could go as much non-verbal as you wanted to when he was near you.

“Loving you,” you answered him, and Bucky stumbled over his next step. All this time, Bucky somehow always knew that you were in love with him, but hearing it was a total different experience. He didn’t know hearing it could get addictive, though, it was new.

Clearing his throat lightly, Bucky carefully voiced his words: “Do you want to? Truly, I mean.” You hummed. Bucky started walking again, and he could actually see the sign: Neon purple color was winking at him in the middle of the night. His feet quickened their pace.

“No,” you murmured. “But I should.” Bucky felt his heart break into the nth piece with your words, but he deserved them. He deserved to hear those words, but he did not deserve you. He sighed. “You hurt me so much, but make me feel like I’m someone who can be loved. It’s weird.” Bucky faintly smiled at your whiny voice.

“Is it?” He said, just to keep you talking. He was so close now, and he could actually see you standing in front of the bar. You were against the wall, arms folded against your chest, and you were trembling slightly. Bucky frowned. “I’m almost there, honey,” he murmured. You hummed again. Looking around, Bucky started running towards you when he didn’t see any cars on the street. His arms were itching to wrap around you.

Bucky ended the call when he stepped onto the sidewalk you were standing on. You lifted your head and looked at him a little sleepily. “Hey there, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered. You smiled widely. Bucky smiled at you right back. Scooping you up in his arms, he held you against him tightly. “Let’s get you home, alright?” You nodded, leaning into his touch. He called an Uber while never releasing his hold on you. You probably had your coat and bag inside, and he had to get you your coat, you were freezing. “C’mon,” he murmured as he led you inside. You shivered when the warm atmosphere of the bar hit your frozen body.

Quickly finding your bag and coat, Bucky put them on you but slung your bag over his shoulder. You were leaning into him fully, now, totally taking advantage of his newly renewed body heat. Your hair smelled like your shampoo, and Bucky felt tears collecting in his eyes again. He blinked them away. To distract himself, he pulled out his phone and opened his group chat with his friends.

what would y’all say if i were to tell you that i’m in love? pls answer honestly, he pressed sent and saw Steve and Sam writing their responses.

i would say you’re bullshitting me, Sam said, and Bucky rolled his eyes. you don’t love, barnes, he added.

ditto, Steve sent. you only make them fall in love and just walk away. that’s your brand, pal. Bucky felt the hurt poking him harshly again, and he closed his eyes for a second, focusing on your sweet scent to calm himself down. His phone pinged. It was Clint and Loki.

you usually just fuck them, man, you don’t love, Clint said. Ouch, Bucky thought.

sometimes you drive them to the brink of suicide, too, Loki sent, and Bucky clenched his jaw. He could see Steve, Sam and Clint objecting immediately, but it was true. It had happened once. Biting his lip, Bucky wrote a reply with shaky hands.

i do, though. i really love her, he sent. The other immediately started writing something back. i’d die for her, y’know. i really would. The ‘writing’ thing disappeared. Bucky heard a honk and looked outside. gotta go, he sent quickly and locked his phone.

“Come on, honey,” he murmured softly to you, and you whined. “Home, love, we’re going home.” You looked up at him, sleepy expression all over your face. Bucky smiled. His fingers fixed your hair with gentle moves. You closed your eyes and nuzzled his hand when it cradled your cheek.

“Mmm,” you purred adorably. “Love you,” you whispered. Bucky surpassed the soft whimper that almost crawled out of his mouth. Instead he kissed your forehead and led you to the Uber waiting for you guys outside.

Once inside the car, Bucky cuddled you against his body. Your sweet scent filling up his lungs, body next to his, he relaxed a little. You were almost asleep when he whispered: “I love you, too.”

You just hummed, burying your face into the crook of his neck while holding onto him tightly. Bucky placed another kiss on your forehead and rested his cheek on your hair.

Then, Bucky took a deep, deep, breath and let go. He let the hurt and tears mix as he cried and cried silently all the while holding you against his chest, cradling you in his arms as if you were something precious.

“I love you so much, too,” he whispered again just because he could and buried a soft sob into your hair.

It hurt so much, the pain was leaving him breathless most of the time, but Bucky was used to it.

He had been used to it for a long time. He could handle it like he did before. 

He just wasn’t sure if this time he would be able to survive it. 

#bucky barnes x reader #fuckboy!bucky barnes x reader #fuckboy!bucky #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #valerie

[cryoaquila]

downpour

summary - trying to move on is difficult when you don’t know how.

pairing - childe x f!reader

tags - tags contain spoilers! break ups, strong language, death, angst, feels, alcohol mention and consumption, drunkenness.

wc - ~3.3k

a/n - so, i wrote his sister, tonia, in this as a supporting character. let’s just say she isn’t as young as teucer lol. she’s probably like in the 18 - 21 range here.

he had so many names and nicknames given by multiple people with varying degrees of like and dislike for him, but you knew him by the pet name you had given him when you two started dating: childe. he was hyper, never stopping to take a break unless an injury forced him down, but that’s where you came in, taking care of him until he was well enough to go off on another journey. wherever he went, you went, whatever wild antics he thought of you were always right beside him waiting to pick him up and dust him off. you gave him your world, and he gave his world to you. you thought he was the one, even when he turned to you with a black eye and broken nose, you still loved him. you both weren’t just a couple, you were the best of friends, the two of you against the world, not even the hardest difficulties could break you up, or so you thought. 

but then she stole his heart away from you. he met her, and they clicked in a way that you thought couldn’t be possible. he stopped chasing after thrills and started chasing after her, and she just pulled him along. you tried to keep up with him and with her, but eventually, you finally gave up and let him go.

you wondered if he was happier now that he was with her. hell, they could be married for all you know. you held a grudge against him for leaving you as he did for another woman, and yet... you still missed him in your life. after these years apart, you still loved him, something you hated admitting to yourself. you couldn’t move on with these feelings holding you down, and thus you tried everything in your power to help yourself forget about him, as he probably forgot about you a long time ago. you lower your head down against the cool wooden table below, thinking to yourself as glasses clinked together and people spoke in drunken, slurred speech. for a second, you think about ordering something but decided against it as you weren’t feeling up to eating or drinking, the only thing you were feeling was overtly numb from the mix of longing and unforgiving. the bar noise was welcoming. you came here to feel less alone and isolated, and the liveliness of the place was a comfort that helped you focus on other things besides him. hearing all the noise around you made you feel better already.

that was until he entered the bar.

your eyes widened and, without even thinking, you duck your head below the table. you were trying to heal! to get him off your mind! what was he doing here!? he knew this was your favorite place, why’d he come here? was he going to bring his girlfriend here? did her forget about you and how much you enjoyed this little hole-in-the-wall bar? your thoughts and questions turned your mood sour. well, you wouldn’t give him what he wanted. no, you’d hide, and pretend you weren’t here. he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of rubbing his relationship in your face.

you watched his actions with scrutiny. he went straight to the bar, and you expected him to order something for his date, but instead, he asked the bartender a question, “hey, i’m looking for a woman who lives in this town and frequented this bar a lot.” the bartender looked at him with raised eyebrows and childe quickly dug around in his pant’s pockets, “um, here, i have a picture of her...” he yanked a photograph from his pockets and unrolled it before showing it to him. you tried to see who the picture was of, but the angle made it impossible. you wondered if it was a picture of you or...?

the bartender eyed him and the picture curiously before shaking his head and saying something along the lines of how he hadn’t seen her in a while. one might think that was an admission that the photograph wasn’t of you, but sadly it didn’t help. the bartender never noticed you. in fact, if you wanted to order something you always had to go up to him directly and get his attention to order.

“oh, alright, don’t worry about it. thanks.” childe sighed, sounding deflated as he rolled up the picture, stuffing it back into his pocket before leaving.

you finally free yourself from your hiding spot, grimacing as you did so. him visiting caused unnecessary feelings to resurface, feelings you were trying to get over. having your night ruined, you decided to leave the bar and go get some rest instead.

-

the second night you tried to stay away from the tavern, but couldn’t help it. the feelings for him became too grand, and you felt nothing but your aching heart and tears form in the corner of your eyes. thus, you made your way back to the same place, as usual, to try to get your mind off him and onto the bustle and happiness of others. you walk in and sit at the same table you always do, in the back, a perfect place to just sit and watch the people drink away the night. the bartender didn’t notice you, once again, but that’s fine. you’re not here to talk or eat or drink. you’re there to heal, to feel anything beyond want for him. maybe one day you’d order something and mingle with the crowd, perhaps even find someone else to date, but today was not the day for that.

as the night lazily ticked on, you watch people come and go, drinking and chattering, enjoying the activity. that was until he entered again. you glare in surprise and huffed in anger that he returned. what was he doing? why didn’t he just go back to his girlfriend?

however, your gaze softens into worry when you notice how unwell he looked. heavy black bags hung under his eyes, his hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed, and he was wearing the same attire as yesterday - you wondered if he was sick. you continued to watch as he slunk down at a table in silence. the bartender, upon seeing him, left his position behind the bar and walked over to his table.

“did you find her?” he questioned him.

“... yes...” childe’s voice was barely a whisper and you strained to hear.

the bartender scratched his chin for a moment, “she someone you love?”

“... yes...” he said something else, but you weren’t able to catch it. after a pause of silence, he spoke again, a little louder this time. “it just took me another woman to date and dump to figure out how much i love her. but it seems i figured it out too late.”

the bartender hummed a soft tune, turning, “i’ll get you something to drink, on the house. you sound like you need it.”

“make it a double order.” childe requested before resting his forehead against the table.

you were at a loss. so he had broken up with his girlfriend, perhaps that’s why he looked so sickly. “too late?” you mutter to yourself, resting your head in your hand as the bartender came back with two pints of beer for childe. “too late for what? for me to take him back?” you thought about your own words - did you want him back? you bite your lip, you loved him, but you weren’t trying to love him. you came to the bar to move on from him, but it was becoming a difficult task as his presence alone was causing you to feel that warm feeling of love all over again.

the rest of the night you watched him silently drink himself into a stupor, unsure of what to do. you needed time to get your thoughts and feelings together. maybe tomorrow you’d finally have a chat with him and you two could figure out what to do. for now, he was far too wasted to hold a thoughtful conversation.

-

the third night you start going to the bar for a different reason than before. it was like you were drawn there, at the same time per usual, the want of seeing him being your driving force. you still were at a loss whether you’d get back together with him or not, a mix of feelings holding you back, but at the very least you decided to chat with him today about it. he entered, a new routine for him, and somehow he looked worse than before. you started worrying for him as he ordered another large pint of beer. he never was much of a drinker, but suddenly he was downing pint after pint two days in a row. you decide now would be a good time to confront him, before he got too intoxicated, and perhaps seeing you would lift his spirits while subsequently erasing any amount of healing you had accomplished. you stand from your table, but the bar door clanging open caught your attention. a woman you recognized entered the bar, it was childe’s younger sister, tonia. she went straight to his table and slammed her hands down, “you can’t keep doing this!” she shouted, causing every patron to glance at them awkwardly, whispers echoing throughout the bar. you sat back down, staring in disbelief at the poor-timing of her entrance.

“i can do what i want.” childe muttered back brazenly. 

she grabbed a tuff of his hair, lifting his face up from the table, “look at you, you’re a mess.” she let go, dropping his face back onto the table. “and this poison isn’t helping you.” she picked up the two pints of beer he ordered and poured both of them out onto the floor below.

he turned his head to the side, his cheek resting against the table as he watched her with an uninterested expression, “hey i wasn’t done with that...”

“you are now!” she said cheerfully, dropping the now empty pint glasses back onto the table with a clink.

the bartender watched her and sighed, “ma’am you can’t just-”

she turned on her heels, glaring at the bartender who stopped midsentence before clearing his throat, “carry on.” he said, going back to mixing drinks for the normal customers.

tonia sat next to her brother, crossing her legs as she looked him over. “you look like you’ve lost a little weight. have you eaten anything in a while?” she muttered, poking at his side.

“no.”

“you need nourishment.”

“I need her.”

her mouth hung open as she tried to find the right words to say, but she couldn’t come up with anything. after an awkward pause she glared at childe, “the younger sibling taking care of the older sibling, oh how our roles have switched.” she sighed, rubbing her temples. “sorry, just, seeing you like this... is hard. but i should be kinder...”

he was quiet for a moment, the bar’s chaos now nothing but a quiet whimper as people began leaving for the night. “i’m sorry, too. i just can’t help-”

“no, no, there isn’t any need for you to be sorry. you act however you need to to get through this. but, some of it is detrimental to your health... you know... i think you should see someone... professional, to talk to. i can help you get an appointment...”

“... that... would it help me?”

she smiled at him. “of course it will! now, c’mon, let me help you home, there’s some leftover food waiting for you!”

“is it... your cooking?”

“hell no, our house would be burned to the ground if it was!” she laughed loudly.

“good, i’m glad it’s not yours!” he chuckled, and it sounded so pleasing to hear him laugh, even if it was only for a moment. you realized something as you watched him rest an arm over tonia’s shoulder before the two left the bar together, causing you to miss your opportunity to talk with him. what you had realized was that you still loved him. even after what he did to you, even after all his screw-ups, he was still your world. you realized you felt a spring of joy from seeing him feel just a little better, and you wanted him to continue to get better. you wanted him to be the best that he could be. you cared for him. you wanted to watch him heal from the break up and feel better day-by-day with you by his side. you finally admitted it to yourself: you forgave him. you forgave him for the mistake he made those years ago. and, not only that, you wanted to get back together with him. you wondered if he’d be back tomorrow. just in case, you’d wait at the bar before seeking him out as he had tried doing for you.

-

the fourth night you felt relieved when he came into the bar. you decided to confront him as soon as he sat down before tonia or anyone else could interrupt. you slowly went over to his table, his forehead pressed down once again. you reached out a hand to tap him on the shoulder, but stop short before touching him, and instead brought your hand back to your side before saying softly. “childe...” he jerked his head up, looking around the bar wildly.

that’s when tonia came in, “i was hoping i wouldn’t find you here again. c’mon brother, i thought we were getting somewhere yesterday, but here you are again. what happened?”

“i heard her...” childe uttered in disbelief.

“you... what?” tonia questioned, walking over to his table.

“i heard her voice, just now...” his tone was so soft as he continued to look around. 

you blink a few times, trying to see if you were dreaming. “that’s because i’m here...” you mutter as they continue on with their conversation.

“no, you didn’t.” tonia sighed.

“yes, i did! i heard her i... i heard her, i swear...” he argued back, getting a little more desperate as he tried to convince her.

“you did! he did!” you shout, but they act like they can’t hear nor see you.

“ajax please, you heard nothing. she’s... she’s gone-”

“i know she’s gone! i know she’s fucking gone!” he shouted, slamming his fist against the table, causing both tonia and you to jump, “why her!? it’s not fair! why not me!? i’d take her place in a heartbeat...”

“ajax please don’t say such things, if teucer ever heard you talk like that he’d cry all night long!” tonia snapped.

this caused him to become quieter, his tone turning from yelling, “i... i won’t say anything like that again, sorry. i just... i shouldn’t have let her go.” his voice cracked as he held back tears, his head hanging low, “i made such a huge mistake, a stupid mistake. i didn’t realize that until it was too late. she was perfect. the calm to my storm. and now she’s gone. i can’t tell her how much i love her.”

“you still can, you know. you can say it at her grave... have you been yet?” tonia asked.

“n-no... i couldn’t... i just... if i see it then... she’d really be dead.”

“but... she is dead. you have to come to terms with that. whether you see her gave or not, she’s dead.”

his body shook as he whispered, “i know. i know...”

tonia rubbed his back, “i’m here for you...”

“i want to see the grave...”

“maybe tomorrow, when it’s light out.”

what were they talking about!? your eyes were wide as the words circulated in your head. dead? grave? “childe i’m here, i’m here, i’m right here. please, look at me. look at me! i’m not dead! no way! no... no way...” you say, you shout, you try to get his attention, but he never looks at you, and neither does she, nor the bartender, nor anyone in the bar.

no one can see you.

no one can hear you. 

you run out of the bar in panic.

-

the next day was terrible. you had spent all night trying to grab the attention of anyone: passersby's in the street, driving cars, shop owners, anyone, but nothing, they walked by like you didn’t exist, like you weren’t there. what was happening to you? your memories were a blur, days were a blur, all you remember recently was attending the bar. had you even ever left the bar? you couldn’t recall. you couldn’t remember. your thoughts were a fog besides the nights at the bar and the conversations you overheard from childe. 

you curled up outside the bar’s closed doors, forehead against your knees, confused, lost, hurt. and that’s when you heard his voice, like a song to your ears, cutting through the misery. you snap your head up, seeing him walking with his sister down the opposite sidewalk, both dressed in all black. you decide to follow them as they walk the city streets. you needed answers. the bustling downtown turned into quiet city limits as they came to a small gated area. 

“here.” tonia said, opening the gate, “how are you feeling?”

“... bad.” childe answered.

“bad,” you answered, too.

“s’okay, if you still can’t we can just-” tonia began closing the gate, but childe topped her.

“no. i want to see it... i’m ready.”

you stood by the open iron gates, staring helplessly in front of you. multiple gravestones lined the gated land, and there went childe and his sister, heading toward one particular grave that made your stomach tie itself into knots. you take a step forward, and then another, forcing yourself to follow, and you wondered if this was how he was feeling right now.

you were still behind them when they finally came to a stop. both their heads bowed in silence before childe looked up to the blue sky above, closing his eyes as he muttered, “it’s a terrible day for rain.”

“but brother, it isn’t raining.” tonia responded, looking at him curiously. that’s when she noticed a tear making its way down his cheek. “oh, i see what you mean. indeed, it is a terrible day for rain.”

you walked over to stand beside childe, opposite of tonia, and looked at the grave in front of them. there was your name. and your birthday. and another date that felt terribly familiar. and plenty of flowers surrounded the stone. it was just as he had said - you had died. and yet, the anxiety you were feeling before vanished and you were left with a certain calmness that washed over you, almost like you had always known, but hadn’t... accepted the truth yet. no, not when there were things you still needed to know and do... and then, it all made sense to you. 

“let it out.” tonia said, and as if that was all he needed, he began sobbing loudly, his whole body jerking with each sob. you had never seen him cry before, not even when he broke bones, it was quite a shock to behold. “it’s alright, it’ll be alright. i’m here for you, your family is here for you. we love you.” tonia comforted him, rubbing his back as he cried on her shoulder. you were thankful she was there for him.

just then, you felt an airy, light feeling breeze flow through you. you finally realized that you had everything you needed to pass on peacefully. the things holding you to the mortal realm had been completed. you had forgiven him, confronted your own love for him, and found out that not only he remembered you but he still loved you. and now, looking at tonia hug him as he sobbed into her shoulder, you knew he would be ok. he had his family to support him as he worked on healing. you knew it’d still be a rough road ahead, yeah, you knew that well, but, eventually, he would be ok.

he would be ok. that’s all that mattered.

he would be ok was your last thought before you moved on.

#genshin impact #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe #tartaglia #genshin x reader #genshin impact oneshot #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact writing #childe x female reader #written

[bubble-tea-bunny]

come fly with me

[hermes x reader]

author’s note: every time i see his name i pronounce it like the brand out of  habit even if there’s no accent grave lol

word count: 2,572

You sense the bright light of morning through your closed lids and it prompts you to wake. But even as your eyes slide open, you still feel as though you’re dreaming.

A man is kneeling down next to you. You don’t know who he is but perceive he means no harm, for his gaze as he observes you is concerned, no doubt wondering what you’re doing out here. You don’t remember falling asleep outside, but the weather has been so nice as of late, you wouldn’t put it past yourself to have drifted off after laying beneath the stars, simply appreciating their magnificence.

As your vision comes more into focus, and the blurred edges merge into finer lines, you note that the sun shines behind this stranger’s head, and it appears remarkably like a halo. Your focus slides lower, drifts over brown hair pulled back into a neat braid to avoid obscuring his face, the highlight of which are his eyes—brilliantly blue, like crystals, and putting the backdrop behind him to shame. He’s beautiful.

Suddenly you’re nervous to be the center of his attention, so rapt it’s like he can see right through you. You must look a disheveled mess in contrast, your own hair tousled, your eyes bleary with the last bits of sleep. But as if he can hear your thoughts, he smiles gently, a gesture to put you at ease.

“Hello,” he greets you. His voice is hushed, taking care not to disturb the peace of these early hours, and it’s warm, washing over your skin and fighting away the chill of the cool evening.

You open your mouth, poised to speak, but at first nothing comes out, though from nervousness or from the fact your vocal chords are still waking up after hours of not being used, you don’t know.

“I… I must have fallen asleep out here,” you state rather dumbly, because what else could it have been? It’s not as if anyone had carried you out here in the middle of the night. Your cheeks redden from embarrassment but the man’s smile widens, amused and—if you aren’t imagining things, owed to the idea that maybe you really are dreaming—charmed. Though for what reason, you haven’t the slightest clue.  You struggle to call yourself a picture of grace at any other point in a day, least of all fresh from sleep.

“It seems you have,” he responds. “I imagine it was comfortable?”

Not wanting to continue this conversation while still laying down, since it’s a little awkward, you sit up, and he backs away slightly to give you space. The notion of sleeping on the ground certainly doesn’t sound comfortable, and so you assume he asks this in light jest, but oddly enough, you don’t feel any stiffness or aches. Your body is relaxed, pliant. You feel well-rested.

“It was, yes…” you trail off, absentmindedly pondering on this anomaly.

The man nods, satisfied with your answer, and stands. You have to crane your neck to look at him, and as he turns his head to look out at the rolling hills, lush green and divided in the middle by a dirt path, you see a string around his neck which is attached to a golden helmet. The brim swoops and lifts in the back, colored silver to resemble a pair of wings.

Then he turns to you again, now offering you his hand. “Well the day is too nice to waste staying here. Would you like to take a walk with me?”

You’ve been aware this entire time that you don’t know who he is, and logic would dictate you turn down his invitation. No matter how nice he may be, it would be unreasonable as well as  unsafe. But even for all that, you find yourself not tied down by any semblance of reason, and perhaps it’s against your better judgment that you accept.

You take his hand and he pulls you up easily. Maybe it’s his smile that does well to quell any apprehension, for you think you would follow him anywhere. Maybe you were incorrect and to go with him now was the better judgment on your part, because you don’t feel that this is wrong or dangerous. And he’s right: the day is splendid and it would make no sense to stay on the ground alone. It’s better enjoyed with companions.

The two of you follow the trail for a while, pausing whenever small creatures cross from one side to the other: mostly bunnies and deer, but at one point when passing by a lake there’s a duck and her ducklings plodding single-file behind her. As the world around you wakes and you walk in comfortable silence, your anxiety melts away and you instigate a conversation.

“Were you just passing by and happened to see me?” you inquire.

The man glances down at you briefly before looking ahead once more. “I was.” He nods. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He’s sincere as he says it, and it makes you grin. “Well I’m glad it was you who found me.”

The smile on his lips mirrors yours. “I am too.”

Flowers line the path, leaning inward as if to welcome any who walk past. They grab your attention, and you skip ahead to pick some of them. They only require a gentle tug for the stems to snap and you gather them until you’re holding a small bunch of the white flower in one hand. You bring them closer to your face so you can smell them: the scent is subtle and fresh, like the air after it rains. The man finally catches up to you and you twist around. There’s that expression in his eyes again, one of amusement, and again you blush, attempting to hide it by the flowers as you duck your head, but you don’t think you’re successful.

He peers over your shoulder. “Let’s go this way now. There’s bound to be more flowers in that direction.”

You turn and follow his line of sight. The trail has led to a forest, and veering off here would lead you into the thick of it. The man takes the last few steps to close the distance and stand next to you, and you look up at him. “Okay.”

Sunlight pierces the gaps in the foliage, the rays which light the ground soothing to behold and to walk through. It’s like a painting, calm and peaceful, displayed on the finest marble and you’re honored to be in the midst of it, maybe not as the subject, for you think the birds who cast shadows as they soar above you are more worthy of the privilege, but you’re content to be there at all, even just off to the side.

The woods lead to a meadow and the man was correct: there are more flowers here. Their colors vary, from white to lavender to yellow, and the sun envelopes them all in its heat, unhindered in this clearing. The tall grass shifts with your every footstep and brushes your calves, light as a feather, and you giggle. It tickles.

Your eyes rove over the expanse before you. There are more trees, another portion of forest,  on the other side, but this place is so peaceful, and the sun is in the perfect position, centered in the sky, that you would hate to leave so soon.

“I’d like to lay among these flowers…” you murmur. It’s an aside you mean to mutter only to yourself, but given your proximity to the stranger—no, not a stranger anymore, but more of a friend—he hears you fine despite the low volume with which you said it.

“Why don’t we?”

At this, you blink and glance up at him. He’s already watching you with a twinkle in his gaze and he’s smiling. You can’t help smiling too and you feel so warm to be in his presence.

So in the middle of the clearing you find a suitable spot and settle down, lying on your back with the bunch of white flowers still clutched in one hand. You have to squint and use your free hand to shield your eyes from the glare of the sun, but then you close them and the furrow of your brow relaxes, and you can fully enjoy the nature which surrounds you.

Dragonflies buzz and you can hear them flittering along, the beating of their wings louder as they approach, then becoming quieter as they pass. The grass shifts as your friend comes to join you now. He sits, and you hear a brief shuffling before he follows suit and lays down. Together you bask in the sunlight, but for how long, you aren’t sure. Not that you’re interested in tracking the time.

“Your suggestion to tarry a while was a good one,” he compliments, breaking the silence. “It feels pleasant to rest here.”

His compliment makes you grin and your eyes open. You turn your head to look at him. He’d removed his helmet from where it was hanging around his neck and placed it next to him to allow him to lie back comfortably. “The sun makes you feel so refreshed, doesn’t it?”

He hums. “I think it has more to do with the company.” He opens his eyes and also turns to look at you, and the blueness of them is incredibly soft. Your smile grows.

And though you’re confident you could pass the rest of the day in that meadow, the two of you move on. It’s done with a bit of reluctance on your part, but it fades quickly because you agree with him: it’s the company which makes you feel refreshed. The colors of the sky are shifting as mid-afternoon turns into early evening and it occurs to you that you have been walking since the morning yet you aren’t tired, nor has it felt like many hours have transpired. You know it has to do with him. You think you could do this forever, walking with him.

When the sky is a blend of indigo and orange, you ask if anyone is expecting him. We’ve been together all day, you explain. No one might wonder where you are?

He chuckles. “That’s kind of you to be concerned.”

Your cheeks feel warm. He’s awfully good at getting that reaction out of you.

“No one’s expecting me,” he continues. “But even if someone were, they’d understand my lateness, given I’m with someone so sweet. I’m not keen to part ways too soon.”

Your chest feels tight, like your heart is wrenching and you’re scared it might break. “Me neither,” you state shyly.

Then gradually the indigos and oranges transition to black as the sun fully disappears below  the horizon and you are sad to see it leave. You’ve also long since left the meadow and the forest surrounding it behind. The land you walk through is wide, flat, empty. There aren’t any plants or animals and it feels foreign, adjusted as you had been to the lush scenery of this afternoon. The only feature worth noting are the mountains that come into view now, which, while you’d already assumed them to be tall, are taller than you first thought as you get closer, so high they seem to touch the clouds, perhaps even extending past them.

“This way.” The man’s voice pulls your attention away from staring up at the clouds. There’s a path that leads farther into the mountain. “Watch your step. It’s rather dark.”

What light of the moon reaches through small gaps in the mountain reflects off the helmet strung around his neck. He takes care to move slowly to ensure you don’t lose him but the glint of his helmet serves as a beacon. The more you venture in, you wonder where you’re going. Should you ask him? The idea of doing so hadn’t crossed your mind all day because you’d been happy just to be with him, no apprehension about the destination, or whether or not  there was one. But now…

The words are on the tip of your tongue, about to be voiced, but they die out once you turn a final corner and spot a river. The water is dark, almost black, and a haze settles above it that obscures what might possibly be on the opposite shore. Once you do speak, it’s still a question, but it’s no longer about where the two of you are headed. He doesn’t need to tell you that.

“Wanted to let me down gently, didn’t you?” The manner in which you ask this is quiet, lightly teasing but also laced with a sadness you do little to hide.

Hermes—for now you know confidently who he is—leads you right to the edge of the water and then stops, twisting around. “I chose to take the longer route with you.”

You meet his gaze. His eyes are sorrowful, yet for their melancholy they are still just as beautiful, and they’re tender as he looks at you. “Why?”

He takes a deep breath, momentarily glancing at the water then returning his focus to you. “You hadn’t realized what happened, and I didn’t want to tell you. I decided we would venture through the nature you love so much, taking breaks where you desired, to listen to the bugs and to feel the sun.”

Thinking back to this morning, you recall that when you’d woken up, you hadn’t checked behind you. If you had, you would’ve noticed your body there. You’d been too enamored by Hermes to do that. Though you suppose there are worse ways of being led to the Underworld, and you’d always be grateful to Hermes for choosing to take the long way.

“Through it I’ve grown very fond of you,” he confesses. He offers a small smile, and you surmise it’s a struggle, at odds with a frown because of where he has brought you, and what it implies. “A day with you was a lifetime, and it still didn’t feel long enough.”

You muster a smile of your own. “One day or an eternity, I don’t suppose any length of time ever would.”

A boat comes into view, appearing to materialize through the fog, and once it stops at the small dock, the front bumping gently and the water lapping against the support beams, Hermes gives the ferryman two coins. Treat her well, he instructs. And then he turns to you a final time, and when your heart squeezes, you really think it has broken.

Glancing down, your eyes settle on the flowers you’re gripping. You’d kept them with you the entire journey. But now you hold them out to Hermes, and the heaviness in your chest seems to lighten slightly as he takes them and the expression on his face becomes a little less crestfallen. You would hate to leave him in such a forlorn state.

“Thank you, Hermes.” You hope he can detect the sincerity, and when he smiles faintly, you know that he has.

He helps you onto the boat, clasping your much smaller hand in his to provide support, and he stands on the shore as the ferryman pushes away, watching you until the fog engulfs the boat once more. And though he’s alone, the flowers in his hand make him feel far from lonely.

#hermes x reader #hermes imagine #blood of zeus x reader #blood of zeus imagine #blood of zeus #hermes #bubble-tea-bunny #queue

[just-my-fandom]

Rocky Road P8 (JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader)

Part 8

Summary; Reader and JJ make up. After going fishing with Ward, John B reveals the truth suddenly to the reader about their father. The chief is now dead. John B and Sarah run away.

Warning(s); Mentions of death, mentions of getting sick (vomit)

A/N; PLEASE READ. There’s a lot of scenes I really didn’t feel like writing, such as the whole death of the chief, etc. So, I combined episodes 8, 9, and 10 together. So technically, this is the last part. But I will include an epilogue

Taglist; @bibliophilewednesday @sexualparkour @jjpouggues @poguestyle17

“So we’re okay?”

It’s the morning after. You and JJ sit on opposite edges of the hot tub, legs knee deep in the warm water.

“Yeah,” Your lips tilt in a small smile, JJs arms propped on his knees as his hands take your own, “Only if you promise to stop acting psycho,”

“Oh, totally,” JJ nods, releasing one of your hands to run it through his hair, “If me getting super drunk and having a terrible hang over last night doesn’t change me, then I don’t know what will,”

“J,” You warn, JJ huffing a short laugh before he nods, leaning forward so your faces were nearly inches apart,

“I promise,” He murmurs, raising his hand to cup the back of your neck and pull your lips against his, “Because I love you. And I’m not going to let my stupidity make me lose you,”

“Good,” You hum, raising your own hands to his hair, his body leaning forward enough to where he steps into the hot tub, arms wrapping around your waist,

But before he can pull you into the water yourself, Kiaras call to your brother causes you to pull away and look over your shoulder, JJ looking around you to watch as John B stomped across the yard of your home with a stone look on his face,

“John?” You call as Kiara did, sliding off the edge of the hot tub to slide on your flats, watching your twin brother move inside the Chateau, “JB,”

“Uh, what’s that all about?” Pope asks, as you shrug and move up the steps to the front porch, pausing as John B desperately searched for something,

“You all right, man?” Pope questions, “What’s up?”

“What’re you looking for?” Kiara rushes, irritated at the silence your brother gave to the group,

You watch as John B pulls the hand gun from under the couch cushions, “John B, what do you need the gun for?”

“Talk to us-,” JJ demands, and you move forward as soon as John B shoves JJ away, onto the pull out mattress,

“John B, what the fuck are you doing?” You shout, moving after John Bs retreating form to the backyard, “If you’re still mad at JJ from yesterday, we’re fine! We made up!”

“I don’t give a damn about the two of you,” John B grumbles, and you pause to watch him climb on JJs motorbike,

“Dude!” JJ shouts, John B finally turning with an angry snarl,

“Ward knows about the gold!” He shouts, and you huff a breath, heart nearly stopping at his next words, “He killed dad,”

“What?” You whisper, JJ quick to move up to you as John B sped away, JJs hand at your upper arm.

Your eyes leave John Bs retreating figure to look at JJ, hand resting at your stomach as you watched JJs mouth move, but no words were heard,

“Baby,” JJ calls, lifting a hand to caress your face as you swallow, thickly, “Hey, hey. Look at me,”

Quickly, you shake your head, exhaling sharply as Kiara moved up next to JJ, “She’s going to be sick-,” Kiara and Pope watch, alarmed, as you duck behind the parked van, JJs hand running down your back as you cough, violently,

“Hey, alright,” JJ murmurs, pulling you into him as his gaze shifts up to his other friends, watching Pope run a hand over his head and look in the distance where John B had left.

“Okay, I’ve never seen John B like that. We should honestly be going to the cops,” Kiara speaks from her spot at the front end of the HMS Pogue, your brows pinched as you look at her,

“And what would we say, Kie? Ward Cameron killed Big John? They’re going to think it’s some- fucking grieving mechanism for me and John B,” You huff, face hot and eyes puffy,

“They’re not gonna believe us if we tell them anything revolving Ward,” JJ states, and Pope raises his goggles,

“Hey, I see Ward,”

“I don’t know if I should be glad he’s alive for John Bs sake or not,” You mutter, tossing a rock that was in the boat into the water,

“Looks alive to me. Let’s go,” Pope orders, and you look up in confusion,

“Wait. What?”

“Obviously Mr. Cameron is fine, and even if John B was here, he isn’t now, okay?” Pope shakes his head, “Plus, I have the biggest, most important moment of my life in six hours,”

“Yeah, well, our friend is in trouble,” Kiara states, Pope shrugging his shoulders,

“I’m in trouble! Guys, I haven’t been home in three days. My dads probably put all my shit on the street by now,”

“So, you’re just gonna bail?” Kiara asks, and you look at JJ with pinched brows so the blonde moves up, protectively, “This is about friendship, this is about Pogues for life!”

“Where were you when Big John went missing? Huh?” Pope hisses, your eyes watching as Kiara glanced at you, “You weren’t there. You weren’t there for John B, or Y/N,”

“Guys,” You plea, pressing yourself into JJs front, “Kie, just let him go home,”

“No, I want her to remember,” Pope snarls, finger jabbing at Kiara, “Remember your kook year? You forgot about us. Y/N lost her best friend. Her dad goes missing and you werent there for her,”

“Give me a break!” Kiara demands, shoving Popes front so Pope shoved her back, JJ quick to release you and move between his two friends,

“Guys, cut it out!” JJ orders, your arms wrapping around yourself as you blink away the burn in your eyes, “If I’m the one mediating then we’ve hit rock bottom,”

“Let’s just go home,” You murmur, JJ looking at you as you move to the wheel of the boat,

“I’ve got it,” JJ soothes, pointing to the front end of the boat where Pope departed to. “Pope, we’ll drop you off,”

You inhale a deep, slow breath, raising your hand to rub at your eye in exhaustion.

“John B, you have to go,” You stare at your twin brother. Peterkin was dead. John B was framed for her murder. “I’m sorry I was such an ass. To you, and to Sarah, but I can’t let you go to jail, for a murder you didn’t commit,”

“You weren’t an ass,” John B forces himself to chuckle, attempting to pull a smile to your face. He fails. “You were being a protective, annoying sister,”

You huff your own laugh, licking your lips, “I’m serious, John. Get Sarah, and go,”

John Bs movements are swift. His arms slide around you in an embrace, tightening around you when hearing your sniffle.

“I love you sis,” He mutters, “Seriously,”

You lean back, hitting his chest, “I love you too. Dick,”

You step away, watching John B step onto the boat JJ lended to John B. “Remember dude,” JJ steps up, arm sliding across your shoulders, “Brownsville. We’ll see you in Mexico in two months,”

“Got it,” John B smiles, watching you slide your arm behind JJs back and take his hand with your free, “Take care of her, JJ,” JJ glances down at you, “I mean it,”

The boat pulls off with a heave. Your eyes blur, looking up at JJ with a smile that matched his.

“Hands up!”

Twirling around, you barely catch a glimpse of Shoupe raising his gun before JJ pushes you behind him. In unison, the group of four raise their hands, your eyes wide,

“Where the hell is he?” Shoupe asks, roughly, “Where the hell is he?!”

“JJ,” He continues, “I see you’re living up to your name. Pope? How about you? This isn’t a fucking game!” Shoupe eyes shift to yours, “Your father would be really disappointed in you young lady,”

“Dont ever bring up my father,” You step up, one of JJs arms dropping to grasp your waist, but immediately pulls it back when Shoupe pins your hands behind your back.

“Let’s fucking go,”

“Sit down. Don’t move,” You look up from your spot inside the tent. Cops, everywhere. You felt sick again.

JJs hand takes yours, squeezing enough to guide your attention to him, where his blue eyes meet your own. JJ shifts your intertwined hands to his lap, thumb brushing across the back of your hand.

You flinch at the rough crack of thunder.

“We lost them,” Shoupe mutters, almost as soon as your ears began to ring. Like the day prior, you see everyone’s mouths moving, but no words.

Except JJ. “What do you mean you lost them?” JJs hand leaves yours as he stands, and you suddenly zone back in, “You had them on radio!”

“The storm cut out their signal,” Shoupe sighs, dropping the talkie in his hand. His head shakes, “We lost them,”

JJ is first to turn to you. Just as quick, your ears begin to ring, not hearing him call out to you. Lost them. Lost, as in, dead? Like Big John?

“Baby,” JJ tries, again, the large group watching as he knelt in front of where you still sat and raised his hands to your face, “Hey, can you hear me?”

JJ is forced to watch as you gasp in a deep breath. With a shattered sob, you nearly fall forward, JJs arms quick to catch you and pull you up into his arms.

“He didn’t do it,” You heave, eyes wide despite the tears that blocked your vision, “He didn’t- didn’t kill anyone,”

JJs arms tighten around you, before he slides his hands back to your face a second time, thumbs attempting to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Forehead against yours, he exhales a shuddered breath as you began to break down.

“Sweetheart-,” Kiaras mom barely leans away from Kiara to extend her hand to you, your head shaking as your eyes finally pinch shut in defeat,

“No,” You whisper, JJs own face crumbling, “No, no. JJ-?”

JJs arms slide around your shoulders, ducking his nose into your hair as your own grab at his button up, feeling Kiaras mom press herself behind you in another wall of comfort.

First Big John. Now, John B and Sarah?

A/N; Well that ended like shit, lol. Again, yes. I did skip a lot of scenes revolving the last three episodes. But honestly? They were unnecessary. But leave ALL feedback as you can, and I hope, pray that you enjoyed this story. It’s been a pleasure.

#jj maybank drabble #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #kiara carrera #pope heyward #john b routeledge #sarah cameron #ward cameron

[anatomical-puppet]

A short lil fic because Oh My God, Arthyr My Beloved,,, I also just wanted to write some Eira angst with at least a kinda-happy ending lol :')

Warnings: Cursing, as well as mentions of injury and being attacked/jumped. Ask to tag if I forgot anything!

Reblogs appreciated!!! ^^

Arthyr had always found the day-to-day routine of princehood rather dull. You’d think it would be a walk in the park, and he was the first to admit that he did have it significantly better than most. But even then, there were still downsides.

The constant circle of guards that stalked his every move was certainly chief among his complaints. Really, what sort of self-respecting seventeen-year-old couldn’t even take a walk by himself? It was humiliating.

He was on one such walk- just a simple stroll to unwind after a particularly tense dinner with his parents- when he heard the falls of familiar boots a few meters to his left. They turned into an alleyway, the one a few blocks southwest of the castle with the graffiti at the far end and the family of raccoons living in the garbage cans. Thank god he’d taken the time to memorize the kingdom’s layout as a child; his little getaways would have been much more difficult otherwise.

“I think I heard some disturbance over that way,” Arthyr blurted immediately, pointing forwards and to the right, down a side street lined with book shops and apothecaries. “If you all would take a moment to investigate, I’d be very much appreciative.”

Three of the four guards flanking him nodded, hands apprehensively gravitating to their sabers as they walked the few meters to investigate the prince’s ruse. Thankfully, the remaining guard was new to his position and had yet to learn that the prince needed a careful eye on him at all times, lest he mysteriously vanish. He was remarkably stealthy for his height.

Arthyr waited a mere moment, listening to the other three guards grow steadily further away, before slipping silently behind the back of the fourth and jogging into the alleyway he’d heard the boots duck into.

“Eira?” he called in a stage whisper, smiling to himself and dragging his right hand along the coarse brick wall to keep himself on track. “I know you’re down here, silly bastard, I heard you.”

A hefty sigh greeted him from further along, lower than Arthyr had expected. He must’ve been sitting on the ground.

“I thought you said you were gonna be at home tonight.” The voice was congested and hollow.

“I was. But now I’m not.” Arthyr’s brow furrowed as he turned to face Eira’s voice, then sat beside him, careful not to dirty his cloak. “You sound cross.”

“I’m fine,” Eira bit back.

“Clearly not. What’s the matter?” Arthyr reached a hand out to carefully grasp Eira’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch me,” Eira snapped, jerking his shoulder away.

“Eira, what-

“Go back home, Arty, it’s cold.”

“You say that as if it’s anything new,” Arthyr said with a roll of his eyes. “Really, what’s come over you? You sound like you’ve been crying. Tell me.”

Eira cursed, then stood and continued walking down the alley.

Arthyr could hear the limp to his steps.

“You’re hurt? Eira-”

“I told you it’s fine.” His voice cracked at the end. “Go. Home.”

“No.” Arthyr stood and began to walk beside Eira, his longer strides making it impossible for Eira to pass him without running, which would’ve been damn near impossible with that limp. “I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what happened and how I can help.”

In his frustration, Eira slammed his hand against a nearby trash can, crying out on impact as pain seared back through his wrist.

“Something with your hand, too,” Arthyr sighed, holding a hand out towards Eira. “May I?”

Eira hesitated before shakily holding his left hand out for Arthyr to gingerly take.

His wrist and hand were shoddily wrapped in bandages, and he heard Eira wince when he put pressure on the joint. The bandages were slightly damp...

But they were cold. So it was just melted snow. Good.

“Who was it this time?” Arthyr asked gently, carefully pulling Eira’s sleeve down to cover the bandages before letting go and crossing his hands back over his cane.

“Some jackass fuckin’ kids,” Eira spat, leaning against the opposite wall before sliding down to sit. Arthyr took up his spot on Eira’s right yet again.

“They jumped at me, just tryin’ to scare me, and I… got startled. Accidentally hit one of them with some ice. And then they kicked my ass. Six of them, I think? Maybe more. I couldn’t see.”

“They attacked you because of the ice..? Or because you hit them?”

“Obviously because of the fucking ice,” Eira spat, then sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just kind of on edge still.”

“That’s alright. I know how you get sometimes, I don’t mind.”

They sat in relative silence for a few moments before Arthyr heard a scratching on his left.

“You’re picking at the scar again.”

“What?”

“The scar. You’re picking at it.” Arthyr lifted his hand, giving Eira ample time to move his own away before gently guiding his touch away from the mark on his face. “It’s going to bleed again if you keep prodding at it like that.”

“I’ve had it for years and it’s only bled twice. I think I’ll be fine.” Arthyr could hear the roll of his eyes but chose to ignore it.

“Well, here. I can’t be away much longer or my father’ll have my head for running off again.” Arthyr rifled through his pockets, then pulled out a few coins and handed them to Eira. “I’m assuming you’ve got some scrapes and cuts, too, so buy yourself some antiseptic. And get supper while you’re at it, I know you haven’t eaten.”

“You sure you’re not magick? You seem pretty fuckin’ psychic to me” Eira breathed out a weak laugh but didn’t take the coins in Arthyr’s palm. “I’m fine.”

“You know I’m not going to take no for an answer.”

“Arty, really, I-”

“Eira, darling,” Arthyr mused, “denying the direct orders of the prince could be reasonably considered as treason, no? And I have ordered you to take this money and go buy yourself some damn food.”

Eira chuckled again, more like himself this time, and reluctantly slipped the coins into a hidden pocket of his jacket. “Thanks, your highness.”

“Ugh, you know I hate it when you call me that,” Arthyr laughed, standing and wiping snow from his cloak before holding a hand out to help Eira up.

“Of course I do. That’s why I do it.”

“Scoundrel.”

“Rich kid.”

“Street rat.”

“Pretty boy.”

“Little- wait, what?”

“What?”

“Prince Arthyr!”

Both heads turned sharply at the intrusion of the guard’s shout, just outside the entrance to the alleyway.

“Shit,” Eira whispered, looking about frantically. “I gotta hide, they’re gonna think I was trying to shiv you or something.”

“Find someplace quick, dumbass,” Arthyr hissed, hurriedly shoving Eira to the left. “I remember there being some boxes over there when I was here the other week.”

Eira dove, skidding into the snow behind the conveniently-placed stack of crates just as one of the crown’s guards rounded the corner, heaving a sigh of relief at the sight of the prince standing, unscathed, at the tail end of the alleyway.

“Goodness, your majesty, why the hell are you in this dingy place? Not fit for a man of your rank, you know. And I really don’t think you’re supposed to be on your own, regardless.”

“Thought I heard something else awry and must’ve taken a wrong turn in my investigation,” Arthyr lied, walking briskly past the guard and allowing his cloak to whip against his face. “I’ll try not to get turned around next time I take a detour.”

#heartless #abd illustrates #prince arthyr #eira hale #my writing #tw cursing #tw injury mention

[i-simp-for-gintoki]

Itadori Yuji and Gojo Satoru thinking their s/o died

“Hey If you're comfortable can you do Reader with amazing regeneration power ( like deadpool lol ) For Yuji And Gojou? Like they don't know about their power tought they're dead but they just pop up back like nothing happens and explain their power to them? But if you're not comfortable it's okay! thank you” -anon

Sorry this took so long! I literally completely rewrote this like 6 times and decided in the end just to keep it relatively simple and not overly detailed. Gojo’s part includes spoilers from the manga (specifically the Hidden Inventory arc) only because thats the only time i could ever think of a situation where he would see and be near you when you get that injured.

Despite all these rewrites i still hate it-

Warnings: blood and injuries

Itadori Yuji:

Gojo had arrived to the classroom 8 minutes late as usual

Instead of training, he decided to hand out some missions to you first years

“Nobara and Megumi, you two are gonna go clean up a hospital and the surrounding area in the xxx district. Meanwhile, Yuji and y/n are gonna go clear out curses from some buildings by a cemetery in the xxx district. Shouldn’t be too difficult”

“You’re not gonna tell us which buildings?” itadori asks and the blindfolded man simply shrugs

“Your lovely y/n can sense the curses out with the power of love” he explains

You sigh and get up from your desk

“Yeah yeah, lets go Yuji” you say pulling your boyfriend’s hand

“Aw, no cute nicknames?” “Shut up Gojo-sensei” you say making your teacher frown

‘Never should have let gojo satoru of all people know that me and yuji are dating’ you think to yourself

And so you and yuji went off to fulfill the mission

It took a bit to get there but luckily it didn’t take long to find the curses

You decided to stick together as you searched the empty buildings

There was a small handful of the usual low grade curses that you guys took out pretty easily

But just when you guys thought you were done, a high level cursed appeared

“Man, I really wished Gojo-sensei would let us know if theres gonna be anything thats grade 2 or above” you say growing nervous and yuji nods his head

“Don’t worry, i’ll protect you” he says giving you a reassuring smile

And so you guys got serious and fought the curse

You both received a few scraps here or there but nothing too serious

Its when the curse switched up its attacks that it got particularly tricky

Instead of throwing cursed energy around, it shot disc blades out of its arm

You barely had enough time to duck out of the way

It went clean through the wall

“Yuji leave him to me” you say but he immediately denies your request

“No way! I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if you got hurt when I could have prevented it”

You were unsure but continued the fight anyways

After both of you sustaining many injuries, Itadori went for the final blow and ended it

Sadly before it fully faded away, it sent one final disc out

Flying straight past yuji, you didn’t have time to react and it went straight through your neck, essentially decapitating you

Your body falling limp onto the ground, the pink haired boy could only slowly turn around to face you

“...huh?”

Eyes wide as they could possibly be he called out your name and fell to his knees

“You’re joking right? Theres no way this really just happened...right?!” he yelled, voice cracking as he stared at your ‘corpse’

“Ooh such a shame. See if you just swapped places with me they would have lived. Atleast they wouldn’t have died to some low level curse” Sukuna said, mouth appearing on his cheek

“Shut up!”

At this point he was bawling

Tears were flooding out of his eyes even tho its only been about 10 seconds

As his shaking hands slowly picked your body up he mumbled a bunch of apologies but stopped when he saw something

Your head was beginning to regenerate

And he has to admit

Seeing your head fully regen like that was kinda disgusting

Opening your eyes, the first thing you see is a teary eyed boyfriend

“Yuji?” You ask and he pulls you into a very tight hug

“I’m so sorry y/n, I let you...I-I thought you died” he choked, still shaking as he held you

You sighed and returned his hug with as much love as possible

“I realize i never explained my ability to you huh? So you know reverse techniques? Its like that but much more advanced. Unless im completely blown away, i’m pretty sure I can’t die. I do however still feel the pain”

He nods his head at your explanation

You guys sit there for a bit as you quietly reassure everything is fine while rubbing his back

You kiss his cheek and stand up

For the rest of the day he is stuck onto you, just glomped on as much as you’ll allow him to be

It really scared him

It happened so fast and if you really had died...he doesn’t even wanna think about how he’d react

When you returned to the school, you didn’t bother reporting back to the principle or gojo and instead spent the rest of the day chilling with Yuji in the dorms

You could deal with the consequences later because for now

Loving yuji and making sure he’s happy is all that matters

Manga spoilers for Gojo under the cut

Second year!Gojo Satoru:

Its not completely accurate to what happened but shushhh

You guys had just come back from Okinawa and despite being on a serious mission you guys had fun

Well you did stay an extra day solely to stay at the beach but no one needed to know that-

But now the fun’s over and you were back at Jujutsu high safe inside its barriers

You could tell Satoru was absolutely finished with this mission, he was completely over it and exhausted

“Im done. No more baby sitting” he said leaning onto you

Resting his chin on top of your head he let out a yawn which made you laugh a bit

“Suguru. You can do the rest with Amanai right? I wanna go sleep and cuddle with y/n” he complained while wrapping his arms around you but suguru snapped back

“Huh? You think you can just walk away with them before the biggest part of this mission??”

He wanted gojo to see the mission through to the very end and not just ditch to go ‘cuddle with y/n’

When the boys continued to argue, gojo unwrapped his arms from you as he stepped closer towards getou

Sighing you gave riko a look and apologized which she simply smiled at

You only meant to take a step forward to intervene

Only a single small step

But your instincts where screaming that you push Satoru away with no second thought

Why did you follow your instincts so quickly? Why shove him so hard that he almost fell over? And why was there a searing hot pain in your gut?

“Im surprised you managed to push him out of the way on time, makes this whole effort for assassinating pointless don’t you think?”

As you slowly looked down you finally realized a sword had been stabbed into you, and that there was a new face right behind you

Ah, thats why then

“Y/n!!” Satoru yelled, blue eyes widening as he saw blood seep through your clothing and onto the concrete

As he and suguru instantly went into battle mode, the sword was harshly ripped out towards your side and cut an arm off in the process

As suguru used curses to hold toji back, satoru swore he teared up a bit as he picked you up and moved to a more safer spot

He couldn’t lose you, literally anyone but you

He’d be willing to die if you got to live

“Y/n your stomach..and arm..!” he yelled watching the blood pour out of you and showing no sign of stopping

Which just made him grow more and more panicked

You could feel his arms tremble as he held you and see that it was taking everything he had to not let the tears spill

“I-I don’t--this..this is my fault! The second i stop using my power this happens to you!” his emotions where spiraling more and more out of control

He couldn’t even see that the blood had already stopped

“Nothing is your fault Satoru. You can deal with the blame game later and instead go deal with the situation at hand” “But-”

“Satoru. i’ll be fine, focus on the enemy and protecting Riko.” you say wincing, already feeling it everything heal itself

“Fine?? Those injuries arent a ‘im fine’ injuries--!” you cut him off by harshly placing your hands onto his face to help him snap out of it

“Satoru. Im perfectly fine okay? So stop panicking.” you say pressing your forehead to his, though it was a bit awkward since he was taller than you

(if your taller than 190cm props to you and just ignore that part)

“Huh? Can reverse techniques be this advanced for shamans?” he asked, eyes still wide as he gently placed his hand on yours

He was in complete awe that your arm was back and looked perfectly normal

“My ability is basically a more advanced version of Shoko’s ability. I can regenerate anything and will be perfectly fine even if i lose my head. So ignore me for the time being and go kick the intruders ass” you say and he takes a deep breath before nodding his head

“wish you could have told me this before so i could have prevented all this panic” he said making you feel really guilty

“sorry! it just never came up before” you say flexing your regenerated arm, seeing if it felt right or not

You watched as he took off his sunglasses and handed them too you and turned towards Toji who was busy slaying a curse suguru threw at him

“Suguru and I will take Riko to Master Tengens place, im leaving this guy to you okay? Not like he’d win anyways, since after all-” he cut off what you were saying with a kiss before smirking

“After all, Im the strongest”

#itadori yuji x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #itadori yuji #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #manga spoilers #kinda

[casifer-is-king]

I'd Never

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Summary: It’s not that Javier isn’t interested in you, but there are some lines that can’t be crossed. Especially when you’re his partner’s wife’s best friend in Bogatá and he’s a DEA agent with a bad track record with relationships. But there has to come a breaking point, and this is it.

Rating: M

Warnings: curse words, alcohol and cigarettes (don't smoke kids), jealousy, a tiny bit of fem!receiving oral. If there's anything else I missed call me out.

A/N: This started as a simple little thing about why Javi avoids relationships. Then it turned into a "what would be the breaking point of that avoidance, though?" And it turned into this whole big thing lol. No beta we die like men. Please leave me feedback and reblog if you like 🥺💖

It’s been two hours since Steve called Javier and told him Connie was dragging him out to the bar and Javier was coming too. Steve told him exactly when to be there and Javier showed up only five minutes late. That was an hour ago and he was currently wishing he had just stayed in his own apartment…

Finally, the bedroom door opened and Connie stepped out. She had on a short dress and some strappy heels, her hair curled and makeup done to perfection in dark, smokey colors.

“Can we leave yet? The bars are gonna be closed by the time you’re ready,” Javier quipped.

“Sorry to keep you from your drinks, Javi, but this woman’s hair would not cooperate.

It was only then that Javier saw you, stepping out behind Connie and dressed up similarly. Your dress was black, strapless and fitted at the waist, then flowing out into an a-line skirt that accented the curve of your hip. Your makeup was lighter than Connie’s, but the bright red lipstick brought attention to your mouth and had Javier licking his own lips.

“Sooo, are we ready or what?” Connie pulled Javier out of his reverie. She already had Steve by her side, helping her into her jacket by the door.

“Ready,” rasped the brunette, pulling a cigarette from the pocket of his shirt. He escorted you and Connie to the front of the building while Steve went to bring the car around.

“Can I have one?” You asked from Javier’s right.

He immediately offered you the one he had lit and watched as your much smaller fingers took the cig from between his, brought it to your crimson lips and inhaled. You let the smoke roll out of your mouth before handing it over to him again. Taking it back, his dark chocolate eyes observed the red stain on the filter before he inhaled the last drag. Dropping the butt to the ground, he dug for another, lit it then handed it off to you immediately.

It was a practiced action between the two of you by this point. Ever since Connie brought you over for one of those weekly dinners she insisted Steve invite him to - “or he’ll never have a good meal, Stephen” - almost three months ago now. Javier wasn’t sure if you never actually had cigarettes of your own, or if you just made it a habit of stealing from him specifically, but you always asked for one and he never said no. At this point, he was certain he wouldn’t say no if you asked him for most anything.

***

At the bar, Steve and Connie go to find a table while Javier and you go up for the first round of drinks. The bar is crowded, but Javier easily carves out a spot for the two of you to wait for one of the bartenders.

It’s only a few minutes before a guy sidles up to your side and begins a conversation with you. Javier tenses, but the bartender distracts him for the moment as he gets everyone’s order in and waits. When he turns to hand you your drink, the guy is still there and you seem to be happily having a conversation, letting him lean in close to your ear so you can hear him over the music. With your drink in hand you give the stranger a smile and a nod before turning to Javier.

“I’m gonna go dance,” you say over the music.

Javier nods, but his mouth is curved down into a frown as he juggles three full drinks to the table that Steve and Connie claimed. He sits and glares out across the dance floor while the married couple next to him have a quiet conversation all their own.

He watches you as you dance with the stranger, his hand on your waste and head ducked toward your neck. He’s obviously saying something into your ear, and whatever it is makes you smile. As the guy turns your body so your back is pressed to his front, Javier feels a rolling, burning feeling in his stomach. He has no right to feel this way, he tells himself. You aren’t his to be possessive over.

It’s not that Javier isn’t interested in you, but there are some lines that can’t be crossed. Especially when you’re his partner’s wife’s best friend in Bogatá and he’s a DEA agent with a bad track record with relationships.

Javier isn’t good at long term relationships. He knows this well. It's the reason that he keeps his interactions with women strictly business, both professionally and sexually (though sometimes those two things can be one in the same in his job). It’s the reason he left Lorraine on the day they were to be married and ran away to Columbia. And it’s the reason he keeps you at a distance when all he wants is to hold you in his arms and smudge your lipstick across your lips as he kisses you. Because you deserve better than a fast burn relationship that leaves you broken, and he knows better than to think he can get it right this time.

Instead, he watches your body as it melts into this random, watches as your hips meet his and you both move in time to the tempo of the song. And he glares. It isn’t a conscious action, but he glares across the room as he absently drinks his beer.

"If you glare hard enough maybe the whole place will burn down," comments Steve with a knowing smirk. “Or maybe he’ll just disappear and you can finally just make a move.”

Javier turns his glare to his partner. “Very funny, Murphy.”

Connie stands and places an arm on his shoulder. “Just go out there, Javi. Dance with her,” she urges him before turning to her husband. “Come on, babe. Buy me another drink and come dance with me.”

Steve turns blue eyes to meet brown. “Meet ya out there?” he asks Javier with a snarky little smile.

“Yeah fucking right,” Javier mutters to Steve’s retreating back, eyes quickly finding their way back to you. He watches you. Watches as you embrace Connie and pull her in to dance. Watches as that stranger’s hand finds it’s way over your stomach and up, up, up until he’s grazing the bottom of your breasts. Watches as he finds himself pushing through the crowd, getting closer and closer to you, and as his own hand engulfs your wrist and pulls you away from the asshole.

“What the hell, Javi?” you exclaim, spilling a bit of your second drink between the two of you.

Javier doesn’t answer; he silently accepts the car keys from Steve and nods at his partner's brief, “we’ll catch a cab home, man.” Then he leads you through the bar, draping his leather jacket across your bare shoulders before you even hit the doors, and continues to lead you to the car.

“Javier! What the hell?” you reiterate. You don’t fight him, though, and you accept his chivalry when he opens the passenger door and helps you into the seat.

He mutters some excuse that you barely hear before he shuts the door and jogs over to get in the driver’s seat. He pulls out of the parking lot with only a muttered, “I’ll drive you home,” but stays quiet other than that. He barely remembers walking out onto that dance floor, doesn't know why he dragged you away, and has no words to explain himself to you. He knows he owes you more than that, owes you some sort of excuse that he can’t give. Not without opening a door to something that he’d never be able to take back.

He tries not to look at you sitting next to him, swamped in his coat with confused eyes and a pout on your painted lips. Instead, he focuses on his driving, focuses on the dark streets in front of him, and focuses on bringing his emotions back in check. Building his walls back up so that he doesn’t hurt you.

He lights a cigarette, taking two drags before silently handing it to you. You accept the smoke, finishing half of it before passing it back without a word. You both smoke two more cigarettes like this before Javier pulls up to your building.

“I’ll walk you up,” he finally breaks the silence. And so he escorts you all the way up to your door without so much as another word. In the harsh fluorescent lights, he can feel you observing him, knowing you can see the hardening of his brow over his stormy eyes, the way his mouth is turned down into a pouty frown and the hunch of his broad shoulders.

At your door, you pause and Javier knows you want him to say something. Anything at all to make you understand. But when he doesn't, you unlock your door, hand resting on the doorknob.

“You know what? No, Javi. I’m not going to let you just leave me here like this without an explanation,” you finally explode. “What was that about back there? Why did we leave early?”

Javier huffs, but his eyes refuse to meet yours. You won’t back down, though. “Please talk to me,” you practically begged now.

He has thought about this moment a lot, how he would respond if you finally confronted him about this push and pull that you both engaged in. The light flirtations that he allows himself to indulge in without ever letting it advance to the next step. Light touches as you pass the cigarette back and forth between quiet banter, eyes meeting across Steve and Connie’s dinner table, a fluttering of your lashes and the twist of his lips into a grin just for you.

Javier makes the mistake of meeting your eyes. “I didn’t like seeing that cabrón all over you,” he finally spoke through clenched teeth. “I don’t like seeing any man looking at you the way he was, or dancing with you the way I should be.”

“The way you should be...?” you trail off, trying to understand what he’s saying.

“The way I want to be,” Javier adds.

There is a heavy pause between the two of you for a long moment, then you’re in Javier’s arms, eyes searching his expressive ones and looking for a sign that it’s ok to move forward. Javier answers that question by leaning down and capturing your lips with his - tentative, waiting to see where it goes. Wanting to see if he was really going to take this step after talking himself out of it for so long now.

You don’t give him too long to think about it, pressing into his chest and deepening the kiss. Javier pushes back, feeling your curves pressed into his torso as your back hits the door behind you. Your mouth tastes like tobacco with faint undertones of the alcohol you had been drinking and Javier finds himself falling into it. Any reason he has created to convince himself to keep you at arms length is crashing down around him.

Breaking the kiss when air becomes a necessity, Javier grasps your chin where your lipstick is smeared, wiping along the red stain before bringing his lips to yours again. Then it’s the fumbling to get into your apartment, the frantic removal of shoes and hands roaming skin. Making your way through the dark apartment, lit only by the orange streetlights filtering through the windows, Javier kisses every bit of skin he can find from your face to your shoulders. He takes note of all the noises you make, from the quiet gasp when he finds the soft spot behind your ear, to the giggle from that spot on your shoulder where his mustache tickles you.

Javier is pushing up the skirt of your dress, caressing your sides as he explores with his mouth, fingers dropping under the band of your panties and beginning to ease them down. Halfway down your thighs, Javier grasps your hips again and lifts until you are seated on one of the stools at your kitchen counter.

Kneeling between your legs, Javi looked up at you, eyes reflecting black with lust. “I want this all for myself,” he rasps out.

“It’s yours,” is your response, voice husky and dark.

At your word, Javier wastes no time latching his mouth to the soft skin of your inner thighs, exploring this new expanse of skin slowly. By the time he reaches his intended destination, he has you squirming in the seat, leaking onto the fabric beneath you and begging him to hurry up. And being the weak man that he is when it comes to you, he gives in easily and finally delves into the sweetness of your core.

He tries to take his time still, savoring in the moment. But you are impatient now, bucking into his face and letting out a constant stream of commentary, “please, Javie. So close. Please don’t stop.” And how could he stop when he finally had you here? Finally gets to hear your moans and taste you on his tongue. By the time your first orgasm has washed over you, he has already decided to see how many times he can make you beg in one night. How many times he can say yes to you and earn his name on your lips.

By the time you are both spent, he's lying with you in the crumpled sheets of your bed. He basks in the afterglow as you cuddle into his side, head resting on his chest and his arm around your shoulders tracing patterns across soft skin. Once he is sure you have fallen asleep, he begins to ease his way from under you. He doesn’t get far though, as your hand reaches out to grasp his larger one.

“Please say you’ll stay,” you whisper sleepily. Javier instantly relaxes back into your pillows, hand shifting to encase your much smaller one in his.

“I’d never say no.”

#narcos #narcos fanfic #Javier Peña #Javier Peña x Reader #Javier Peña x You #pedro pascal characters #Pedro Pascal character fic

[nanamikeento]

skinny love - part i

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (gender neutral)

Summary: An asshole kept bothering you at the bar and you decide to do something different to get rid of him.

Requested: #27 Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second

warnings: angst, alcohol, vague descriptions of sex (+18), miscommunications, probably some grammar/spelling mistakes cause this was edited at 2am lol

word count: 2.2k

part ii || masterlist

The soft music from the bar echoes in your head as you try your best to zone out. The man beside you is still speaking, showering you with compliments and trying to lull you to his place. You’ve come to the bar for one reason only and it was to be alone with your thoughts.

Working as a DEA Agent in Colombia has never been easy, you know that. And you know you have a hell of a stressing journey ahead of you, especially now that Javier is back.

The hero that took down Escobar. The man who helped make history. People only remember the ones in the front lines, at the top of the food chain. But you think it’s only fair. You came along a year before the hunt for Escobar was over and, while you weren’t working with the Search Bloc itself, you were helping other ways, doing the best you could. The boys did most of the fieldwork and you didn’t mind much. That’s what you told yourself during that year.

That is until Javier Peña got promoted again. It only made sense to put someone experienced to lead the hunt for the Cali cartel. You understand. You have almost zero experience on the field, there’s no way you could actually lead a case like that. Doesn’t mean you’re not upset though. Even though you’re allowed to get more involved now, you feel like you could help more and it kinda makes you sad.

Which is why you’re at the bar, trying to drink your feelings away. But this Colombian man is not giving you peace. You’ve done whatever it took, said you weren’t interested, tried to switch seats when he wasn’t looking, but nothing worked. This man was insistent and couldn’t take no for an answer. You’re thinking about leaving when you see Javier entering the bar. He’s alone and looks stressed.

You watch as he struggles with his tie, loosening it and taking it off, and can’t help but observe the way his hand moves to remove his suit. You don’t mean to stare when one of your coworkers invites him to have a drink with them and he politely refuses, sitting on a stool on his own, but you do. His eyes meet yours for a second and you look away, feeling your cheeks burn under his gaze. Javier doesn’t even remember you, why are you feeling so hot and tingly in his presence? Maybe it’s the alcohol. Yeah, it’s definitely the alcohol.

Nursing your drink, your eyes don’t leave the glass as you trace the rim of it with your finger. Your heart is hammering inside your ribcage as the Colombian man hits on you once more. He’s drunk and speaking loudly in Spanish and you flick your eyes to Javier again to see him staring.

Then, you move quickly, before you can change your mind. You stand from your stool and walk to him, drink in one hand, the other going straight to the back of his neck.

“You’re late!” You say in Spanish, loud enough for the other man to listen. Your lips connect with his cheek and you whisper the next words quickly. “Please just go with it, that guy is giving me a hard time. Please.”

When you pull away, Javier is looking at you with a surprised face, but quickly conceals his emotions, eyes flickering to the Colombian man who eyes you both with a blank face.

“Working late?” You smile at him, sitting on the stool beside him. Javier just looks at you for a moment. You both had never exchanged a word before besides the good mornings and good evenings, and seeing you smile at him like this is different. Something he never thought he’d see it.

“Uh, yeah.” His voice is quiet, almost shy as he ducks his head and looks at his drink. Nodding at him, you finish your own drink, eyeing the man who was hitting on you. He’s still staring. You shift in your seat, uncomfortably and turn your body to face Javier. With your back to your harasser, you feel relieved for a second and you try to continue the conversation between you and Javier, but he beats you to it. “Why aren’t you with the others?”

Javier nods in the direction of your coworkers who are drinking and laughing at a table by the corner of the bar. You don’t need to look to see they’re having fun, so you shrug, paying no attention to the way his eyes flick to your lips for a second.

“I wasn’t invited.”

The confession takes him by surprise, but Javier guesses it makes sense. You’re always so quiet and shy that most times people often forget about you. Hell, he didn’t even know you were still working at the embassy when he came back to Colombia. He watches as you drop your gaze to your empty glass and let out a quiet sigh, observing the way your lashes kiss the top of your cheeks and realizes you’re beautiful.

“So, how does it feel coming back?” You speak before he can get a word out. “Do people back home know you’re a hero?”

He huffs a laugh, the left corner of his lips curving into a boyish half-smile. “Not a hero.”

“Are you sure about that?” You narrow your eyes at him and cock your head to the side. “Taking down Escobar seems like a hero job.”

“I wasn’t here when it happened.” He argues.

Stubborn.

“But you helped.” You run your fingertips on the rim of the glass.

“So did you.”

You look up at him, eyes wide for a moment before you tear your gaze away. Cheeks burning under his gaze, you try to hide a smile. And that makes him smile too. It’s a twitch on the corner of his lips, but it’s still a smile.

“I gotta be honest with you,” He says, making you look at him again. “I thought you hated me.”

Furrowing your brows, you look at him, confused. “Why would I hate you?”

Javier never thought about you in a different way, he always saw you as a coworker. A shy, quiet person in the corner of the room, doing paperwork, listening to calls, doing the best to help him. You’d never give him more than a glance towards him, never spoke to him aside from the good mornings and good evenings. This is the most you’ve spoken with him and it took him by surprise. He liked it. So he just shrugs and decides to keep these facts to himself, afraid you’ll back away from him.

“I don’t.” You assure him. “I admire you, actually. You came back after Escobar, that must be heavy. And tiring.”

“Yeah, but you came back too.”

It takes you by surprise, the way he says it.

“I didn’t think you remembered me.” You mumble, swallowing your own drink, and trying to play nonchalant.

“Yeah, but I do.” He gives you a small smile, eyes narrowing at you.

The silence hangs in the air as your heart beats strong inside your ribcage. A feeling takes over you and you don’t know if it’s still the alcohol or if it’s something else. Maybe it’s both. All you want to do is throw yourself at him and connect your lips to his. Javier is so charming without even trying. He’s so hot and handsome. He doesn’t have to try hard to seduce you.

You spend the rest of the night making small conversation, learning about his time in Colombia before you arrived. You tell him about your career and how you wanted to do more in the Embassy and, maybe it is the alcohol that goes up to his head too, but he’s laughing and telling you stories of when he was on the hunt for Escobar.

“Is he still looking?” Javier asks, all of a sudden.

“What?” You huff a laugh, frowning at him. “Who?”

“The guy who was giving you a hard time.”

You completely forgot about him. Your eyes flicker to the spot where you were seated and you don’t see the man who was bothering you earlier.

“No, he’s gone, actually,” you say with a small voice, bringing your glass to your lips again.

Javier watches as you take a sip from the whiskey and lick your bottom lip. His eyes dance between your lips and your eyes and you don’t notice his struggle to look away from you.

“You should’ve said yes.” His voice is raspy and hushed.

Frowning, you finally look at Javier and see his gaze on you. You see a different look in his eyes, something that reminds you of desire, of burning lust and yearning.

“Why?” You whisper, already knowing the answer.

“So I could do this.”

Javier closes the distance between you and him, pressing his lips against yours. It’s rough at first, and you don’t react for a moment. Until you kiss him back and feel his hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you closer to him. His lips are slightly chapped and the mustache tickles your top lip, but you don’t care and open your mouth gladly when he seeks passage with his tongue.

The air is knocked out of your lungs when he pulls away only to tilt his head to kiss you better. The buzz of alcohol immediately leaves you, sobering you up as you lose yourself in his lips.

“Let me take you home,” he whispers in your mouth and you just nod.

The next moments are a haze in your mind. Javier pays the bill. Calls a taxi. Kisses you deeply in the back seat. You open your apartment door for him. His clothes are on your bedroom floor, yours joining them quickly. His body is pressed against yours. Your limbs are tangled to his. You both reach climax and rest before starting all over again. When it ends, you fall asleep on his chest, inhaling his scent.

But you wake up alone.

…

The bright lights of the office make you wince in pain. You’re on your third cup of coffee already and the hangover won’t leave you alone. That and the weight on your heart. After waking up alone, you took a long shower and brewed your coffee. Memories from the night before were plastered in your mind as you had breakfast and got ready for work. You don’t even remember Javier leaving, which makes your stomach churn with an unpleasant feeling.

You look over some reports and do paperwork, or try to. The words don’t make sense as you try to concentrate to read them. Then, you hear Javier’s voice echoing in the office. And your heart jumps when you see him speaking to one of your coworkers. You’re well aware you’re staring but you can’t help it. He looks so good today. You’ve never noticed how those gray suits make him look so hot before last night. And you know exactly why.

For a moment, Javier makes eye contact with you and you open your mouth to greet him, but he looks away before you can utter a word. You don’t know why it hurt. A sharp pang violently hits your heart and you take a moment to recollect yourself and look back at the papers you were reading. Maybe you were stupid to believe he’d treat you differently today, just because you slept together. Shaking your head, you sigh deeply, standing up and walking to the break room to get more coffee.

You don’t notice Javier’s eyes on you or when he follows you. The smell of freshly brewed coffee reaches your nostrils and it makes you smile a bit, taking your favorite mug and pouring the hot steamy liquid in. You feel a presence behind you but pay no mind to it, taking your time to put two cubes of sugar in your beverage. When you turn around you jolt, almost spilling the coffee when you see him standing by the door of the room.

Javier stares at you but says nothing. You stare back for a moment, before tearing your gaze away and leaving the break room before he can open his mouth to say something.

There’s no need to pretend. No need to postpone the inevitable. Javier will find some other girl and sleep with her like you and him never happened. You don’t know why you’re beating yourself up so hard about it. It’s okay. It happens.

He ignores you the entire day, which makes you uneasy. By the end of the day, you decide to have a drink and sulk for the most part of the night again. This time, there’s no asshole trying to take you home or anyone bothering you. But you do watch as Javier enters the bar with a girl wrapped in his arms. You watch as they talk and laugh and kiss the entire night with jealousy in your heart. Jealousy you don’t even have the right to feel. He’s not yours, he’ll never be. He’s not hers either. 

Javier belongs to no one and he knows it.

And he keeps looking back at you. Like he’s teasing, provoking you. What kind of person does he think you are? Shaking your head, you place the money on the bar and stand from your stool, walking past them to leave. Tears blurry your vision as you walk to the chill air of the night.

What you don’t see is the heartbreaking look in his eyes as he watches you leave.

__

tags: @murdermewithbooks @adikaofmandalore @goldafterglow @bestintheparsec @forever-rogue @hiscyarika @aerynwrites @yespolkadotkitty @haildoodles-writing @din-damn-djarin @theocatkov @mistermiraclee

#javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #narcos imagine #myfic #scheduled

[noctumbra]

❝tight❞

summary ─ “hmm, yes, dolly?” you whined for real this time, making him smirk against your skin mischievously. “you want something?”

pairing ─ boxer!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, gym shower sex, dirty talk, pet names, fingering

a/n ─ just gonna post this and go back into hiding. this schedule is the new black gals. i’ll post if i write, and i don’t write then i’ll post whenever i write lol this is the conclusion i have finally come up with. hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank you <33

KINKTOBER DAY TWELVE: boxer!bucky + gym shower sex + humiliation kink

You stepped into the workout area with your towel on your shoulder and your water bottle in hand. Your headphones were around your neck, your phone was tied to your thigh securely. There were people around; lifting weights, running or jogging on the treadmill, cycling, jumping rope… Lots of grunts and groans and victorious moans were filling the large space.

You walked around a couple guys who were doing sit-ups and found yourself an empty treadmill. You always started your workout with a light jog, most people stretched you had observed, but you liked to jog. Setting up the pace, you started your workout with your workout playlist blasting through your headphones and let the time wash away as you got rid of the extra energy.

Not realizing how long it had passed since you had started your workout, you stopped doing sit-ups for a short break. You were soaked; your hair was sticking to your skin and your workout gear was partially wet because of your sweat. Breathing deeply and steadily, you pulled off your headphones. While you were lost in your head, the gym had emptied itself.

Well, almost.

He was in the ring like usual you realized, seeing his reflection from the mirror wall.

James.

He usually came to the gym after 9PM. He liked the quiet and liked being alone, you assumed, and you really couldn’t blame him because you, too, liked the quiet and being alone while working out. You knew that if he were to come early, he couldn’t workout as effectively as he was now because there would be a lot of people who’d ask questions about boxing.

James was a boxer.

You learned that from Sam. He had championships on some… ballsy competition was what Sam had told you. You weren’t into boxing so you usually just admired the man doing his thing.

He was working with Steve per usual. Both of them beefy and handsome as hell, you watched them move on the ring like silk fabrics sliding against each other. Their moves were so smooth but held so much strength beneath, it always got you wet just by watching them boxing together. They were topless, only had a pair of black basketball shorts and wraps on their hands. Both their chests were shining under the light, a soft sheen of sweat covering their bulging biceps and chests.

You shook yourself out of your trance when your eyes found James’ cold blue ones. Feeling your face heating up because of his look, you ducked your head and decided to continue to your workout before your body got cold. Putting on your headphones back, you returned to your workout.

It was actually James who touched your shoulder and pointed your headphones when you looked up at him.

“Hi,” he said, “Steve said that he was closing for tonight, but you didn’t hear him.” You frowned. You didn’t know your workout lasted this long. Pulling your phone out from where it was strapped to your thigh, you checked the time.

“Holy shit,” you murmured. James chuckled lightly.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I told Steve that I could close up since I needed the extra hour of training, but I really need to close up.” He smiled at you sheepishly. You nodded.

“No, of course!” You jumped to your feet, but forgetting about the head rush, you had to grab his bicep to stand on your feet.

“Whoa,” James said, his other hand grabbing you by the waist. “You okay?” You swayed on your feet dangerously, looking pale as hell as you did so. James frowned and tightened his hold around you. He really didn’t want you pass out or fall.

“’m fine,” you murmured. “Head rush,” you added as you blinked furiously. “I’ll be going shortly.” James nodded.

“You could take it slow,” he said, “Hell, you should take it slow. I’ll wait until you’re out of shower. I need one, too, anyway. I stink.” You chuckled at him softly. Nodding, you grabbed your things and stood slower this time. You walked towards the showers together silently. His presence next to you wasn’t as intimidating as you thought it would be, and you smiled at yourself.

“I think you know your way around─ ah, hell,” he cursed. You turned your head to see what was happening.

Apparently the men’s showers were closed because there was cleaning inside. Biting your lip, you looked at him as an idea formed into your mind.

“You could, um,” you started, “use the women’s? It’s only me anyway and I can check if there’s someone just in case?” James frowned slightly before nodding. You smiled at him and quickly ran inside; checking every shower, you made sure that there was no one. “It’s empty. Come on.”

“Gimme a minute? I gotta grab my bag,” he said, jerking his head towards the lockers. You nodded. “Don’t be afraid when I come inside though.” You chuckled and nodded again. Parting your ways with him, you opened your locker and retrieved your bigger towel. You took of your sweaty gear and put them into a small separate bag. With your shampoo and soap in your hand, you walked in one of the showers and turned on the hot water. As the hot water kicked in, you hung your towel just outside of the shower doors, and ducked under the water.

Feeling all the stickiness slowly going through the drain, you closed your eyes.

You yelped when you felt two hands grabbing you by the waist and pulling you against a ripped chest.

“Sssh,” James hushed you. “I told you don’t be afraid when I come inside, right?” He whispered into your ear, making you shudder under the hot water.

“I─ I didn’t expect─” He hummed at your way of tripping over your own words.

“I can go,” he murmured. “I can go to the one at the very end if you’re not up for this,” he added. “I really want this, though.” His nose poked the soft skin behind your ear, body molded against yours, you felt your body melt in his embrace. “You tell me no, and I take it to the heart, but─” James chuckled darkly. “I’ve been seeing you, honey,” he murmured. “Seeing you watch me. You watch me with those sexy eyes, making me lose my focus. Steve always gets a good punch in whenever you distract me.”

You whined so silently, you weren’t sure that he heard over the water’s roaring sound.

“The way you move, though,” James hummed approvingly. “Those leggings? Gets me hard the second I see them hugging your body the way they do.”

“James…” you whispered, causing him to tighten his hold around you.

“Hmm, yes, dolly?” You whined for real this time, making him smirk against your skin mischievously. “You want something?” You nodded, your hand finding his on your stomach. “Say it out loud, please,” he whispered. You had to swallow a couple times to get your tongue working again.

“Fuck me,” you whispered as your eyes found his over your shoulder. His cold steel blue eyes weren’t as cold as before now; they were warm, but dark, burning with restrained desire. “Please?”

Hearing him growl was your ‘yes’ and suddenly, you were plastered against the cold, shower wall. Yelping from the sudden coolness on your warm skin, you flinched back, but James was there to corner you.

His ripped body was a furnace behind you; his erection pressing against your ass, you felt his hands move upwards. You hummed, arching into the warmth that was coming off of his body and sneaked a hand in his wet hair. James kissed your exposed neck, hands grabbing your breasts softly, he squeezed them; causing you to moan loudly.

“Hush, honey,” James murmured. “The cleaners are still around.” You whimpered, but he was right. Getting caught by them would be a nightmare and you probably would have to change your gym. Which you did not want. “I know you wanna make noises,” James assured you, “I want to hear you, too, baby, but you gotta keep it quiet for tonight, okay? Next time, I’ll have you screaming freely.”

You shuddered at the mention of next time. There would be a next time in his book then, you thought, and felt giddy about it. Your focus turned to him again; his hips were moving against your ass slowly, smearing precum all over the soft flesh and let the water wash it away.

“Please?” You whispered.

His hand left your breast, found his cock and he lined up against your wet pussy. Running the tip of his cock up and down a couple times just to tease you, he slid inside. The pain of his cock stretching your pussy got you gasping into the tiles; he didn’t have a long cock, he was average in the height department. His girth, however, that was a whole different story.

James groaned into your shoulder as he bottomed out. His hot breath was licking over the wet skin, making you shiver in his arms every once in a while. He kissed your shoulder, nosed your ear and the hand that had left your breast had found its way back there.

“Tight,” he snarled. “Tighter than a virgin, aren’t ya, dolly?” You whined lowly as you nodded. His hips were moving just like before; slow and sensual, but you knew that he was coming to an end of his patience. “Never had a pussy as tight as yours, honey. Gripping me so nicely, it’s like your pussy is hugging my cock, feels so damn good.”

You moaned as his cock grazed over a sensitive spot. Humming curiously, he did it again and again until it had you sobbing against the cold wall in front you silently.

“Is that the spot that can get you all weak and stupid for me, dolly?” James asked. His mouth was running and spitting filth non-stop. “Should I do it again? I bet you get so sweet, like a mewling kitten, when you’re a stupid dolly. Are you, honey?”

Sobbing harder as he did graze over that spot again like he said, you nodded. “Yes, yes! Please, God, please, please!” James hushed you. He kissed the side of your neck and started to move his hips faster. Hitting that spot over and over, you felt his balls smacking against your skin, too, and moaned at the feeling. It was adding a different sensation onto the ones that you were already drowning in.

You grabbed his bubbly ass, dug your nails as you pulled him against your body harder. James moaned deeply, breath licking over your ear. You swallowed all the noises he let out by turning your head and kissing him. James hummed. One of his hands cradled your jaw and he continued to kiss you as he fucked you faster and harder.

“Ah!” You shouted as his other hand found your clit and started to flick it furiously.

“Hush, stupid dolly,” he snarled. “I don’t want anyone to hear you while you’re like this. I don’t wanna be interrupted, either.” You nodded, tongue swelling in your mouth and stopping you from talking, you just nodded. “Such a good doll for me, aren’t ya? So good and weak for me.” Mewling, you bucked your hips, met his hips thrust by thrust.

“Pussy is goddamn good,” he groaned, loudly. “’s gonna make me come, honey,” he licked over your pulse and nibbled on it gently as the sensation tipped you over the edge. Your body shivered violently and hips bucked against his harshly, you dug your nails even deeper in his ass. You barely stifled your scream.

“Oh, fuck─” James growled. His hips were smacking against yours, cock driving in you at a mad pace, he grunted. You hummed as you melted in his arms. “’m gonna─ Fuck, ‘m─” Letting out a soft ‘ah’ sound, James came, too. You felt him twitch and jerk inside of you and chuckled, drunk on pleasure.

It took James a minute to collect himself. “So, I was wondering,” he started.

“Hm?” You murmured a response as you let him move you under the water fully and handed you your shampoo.

“I have this competition,” he said, “I’ve been meaning to ask, actually. I was gonna dine and wine you first,” he scratched the back of his neck as the pink color brightened his ears. You looked at him, grinning. “Will you come to my competition? Will you let me win it for ya, dolly?” Preening under his warm look and all the pet names he called you with, you nodded.

“Even though I won’t be enjoying you getting this face busted, I’d love to be there,” you said and trailed your fingers over his face. James grabbed your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist.

“Then it’s a date,” he winked at you and you both smiled at each other shyly.

──

James won that competition for you under twenty minutes, breaking a record at the same time. He got a busted lip, a split eyebrow and a gonna-bruise-badly injury on his cheekbone. Nothing was broken, and he was actually okay.

“Look!” He yelled at you as he pointed his raised fist by the referee. “I did it for you!” You felt all the warmth had rushed into your cheeks as you got nudged by Sam.

“You got an in love puppy following you around,” Sam murmured as he watched James.

“Well, I’m an in love kitten for him, so it’s mutual,” you said, smiling throughout the whole thing.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines #boxer!bucky #kinktober 2020

[scorsoneamelia]

I like the way you write II wanted to ask if you could write a story where there is a shooting and link is shot

thank you so much :’) i like this idea a lot!!

this is gonna be a big one sorry it took me a while to write because it’s heavy lol

yall are gonna hate me for ending this the way i did lol

tw: shooting

         The thing about life is that you never know what to expect, everyday you live life never knowing how the day is going to end. Some like the idea of never knowing, some think it makes life more meaningful while some people sit on the edge full of anxiety because they need to know when their last breath will be. It’s like how some will take a test to tell them if they have the cancer gene, the Alzheimer’s gene, a disease, etc., and some will refuse to know because they’d rather not know than always expect the worst.

         Death is so familiar to Amelia, she’s seen her own father fall to his death right in front of her, even though she might not remember it as well as her brother did, the trauma still impacted her. Rolling over to notice that her boyfriend’s heart was no longer beating and his body was ice cold, her brother getting ripped out of her life too soon; it’s all familiar to her. You’d think this is what she’d be used to, the worst case scenarios but nobody really is ever used to hear the worst news of your life, no matter how familiar it may be.

          They had just been leaving from a dinner with Link’s parents, and although neither have them have spoken or seen much of one another since the afternoon on the beach; since the proposal, it was quiet. The only time they’ve communicated lately is for the sake of their son, who was currently being watched by Meredith. Link told his parents they’d both be there because it was ‘easier’ than explaining the alternative. Dinner was fine, the least amount of awkward it could have been, both of them putting on a smile and an act which was easy for the two of them since they acted like a perfectly happy married couple for her sisters before. This was easy.

          Link parked the car in front of a gas station, a small one along the outskirts of the city because he needed gas and a snack, even though he just ate. Neither of them said much to one another besides, “Be right back.” which came from Link and he was already exiting the vehicle.

            Amelia hadn’t said much to Link directly since he picked her up, she wasn’t sure what the right thing to say was and whatever she wanted to say, he wouldn’t care to listen and she knew that. He was hurt; and he was upset and even though she had her own reasons and feelings, hers weren’t important because Link was hurt.

             Her finger was tapping down onto her contact list to find Meredith’s number, a heads up that they might be a little big longer than expected cause the drive home will be a long one. Her attention was diverted away because there was a loud noise; an explosion sound and there was screams immediately followed after. Civilians were running down the street, people jumping into their cars to speed away, the sound of their rubber tires squealing against the pavement along with screams; terrified screams. A young girl ran out of the gas station, blood soaking her pant leg from the knee down and she was crying, her hands were trembling and she was dialling 911 on her phone.

             The gas station, the realization came and a wave of panic hit her, her heart pounding against her chest and now her hands were shaking. A man was running to the bleeding girls side, putting pressure on her leg while she cried out. Quickly, Amelia pushed open the passenger door and the screams were even louder. “He has a gun!”

             It only took a few moments before Amelia was throwing the gas station door open, knowing damn well that if there really was someone with a gun in there that she’d be risking her life. But there was something that was making her go in there, she wasn’t thinking and her heart was beating so hard in her chest it felt like it was going to pop out, and her hands were shaking and she couldn’t keep them still. Just as she expected, a white man with dark brown hair had the man who worked behind the counter at the gas station at gun point. His finger hovering over the trigger and his knuckles white, the innocent man had his hands raised in the air. The man had a black cotton mask covering his face so you could only see his hazel eyes, a backpack secured to his shoulder.

              There was a chime when Amelia opened the door, attention being drawn to her and immediately her hands were raised into the air, her breath being caught in her throat. “Don’t move, or I shoot.” The guy wasn’t facing her yet, but his eyes were burning into her. This was all too familiar, way too familiar. A man being held at gunpoint that worked at a gas station, her being in the same building and her hands trembling.

               “Amelia,” Link had been hiding behind a corner and he came out to expose himself, the gunman turning his attention to Link and pointing it directly at him, only causing him to raise his hands as well. “Sir, please, don’t do this.”

                Now that the shooter had his back towards the clerk behind the counter and his gun facing Link, he slowly reached for the cellphone to dial all emergency vehicles. Amelia didn’t move, she was frozen in place and her hands were still raised in the air and she was breathing deeply and slowly because she was about to have a panic attack. “One step and I shoot!” The man yelled, his voice was deep and it sent a chill down Amelia’s spine.

                “Link,” Amelia choked out, her voice thick with terror and there were tears trying to escape her eyes. “Link.” She said again, a cry coming out through her throat.

                 “Shut up!” The man yelled even louder, stepping closer to Link, his grip tightening around the gun. “I will shoot every single one of you.” There was no doubt this man would, there was a look in his eyes, a look that would terrify anyone.

                 There was sirens off in the distance, meaning someone had already called because the innocent man behind the counter couldn’t hold the phone still by how much his hands were shaking. The gun man heard the sirens, his eyes looking over at her as if she called them. “This pretty boy your boyfriend?”

                 “Uh,—“ was she supposed to lie in this type of situation? “Yes—, yes he’s my boyfriend.” Her breath was caught in her throat, it felt like she couldn’t breathe, like her throat was closing in on her.

                 “That’s too bad,” the guy laughed. His laugh was evil, the type of evil that made your stomach turn. A group of police cars rolled up at the front of the building, sirens and lights on and police men and women were surrounding the building within seconds. “Fuck!” He was yelling now, a frustrated hand running through his hair and he was bringing the gun down away from Link’s chest. Link thought it was enough time for him to make a run for it, ducking down and trying to make it to the front door.

                There was a ringing in her ears after the gun was drawn and the man’s finger pushed down onto the trigger, the bullet embedding into Link’s rib cage, blood wetting his white coloured shirt. She stopped breathing, it getting stuck at the bottom of her throat and her chest was tight. She could feel her heartbeat throughout her entire body, she could hear it in her ears and her hands wouldn’t stay still. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe and her chest was closing in. Her vision was blurry, black auras surrounding her eyes, and she was lightheaded, so dizzy she might fall over and it felt like her knees were about to buckle.

             The door behind her was thrown open and the chime went off throughout the store, her ears still ringing and she could barely hear anything. “Hands in the air!” The police were inside now, all guns drawn to the suspect. “Drop the gun!”

            She still stood there, losing her balance and grabbing onto one of the counter tops behind her. Link was laying on the ground, blood pouring out of his side and he was coughing, his face scrunched up in pain. His hand was reaching down and covering the injury with his palm, trying to put pressure on his own wound. Amelia couldn’t move, her legs were giving out and her entire body was shaking.

            She stood there for a few more moments, as the gun man tried to escape, running to the back of the store and one police man was talking to the man who worked at the station and another was standing over Link, calling for emergency back-up.

            “Sir,” the police woman was kneeling next to Link, addressing the injury. “Can you hear me? You’re gonna be okay, the ambulance is on their way.” Link was groaning and you could hear his pain.

             “Oh my god,-“ Amelia finally snapped out of it, running over to Link’s side, placing both of her hands on top of his ribcage putting as much pressure on the wound as she could. “Link, oh my god.” She was stumbling over her own words, panic arising.

             “Stay— Stay with me! You’re not dying, stay awake!” She was yelling, completely terrified, you could hear it in her voice and you could hear her crying. “Link, I love you so much, okay? I love you, I’m sorry...” She was in hysterics, you could make an ocean by the amount of tears that were streaming down her face.

            Her hands were covered in blood, and she was continuing to hold pressure. “Stay with me, Link, don’t close your eyes. Don’t-“ she choked on her own years. “Don’t leave me too.”

           Link was coughing even more now, she could see spots of blood in his mouth and his eyes were fluttering shut, so much pain written all over his face. “No, no, no!! No!!” Amelia was yelling even louder now, a police officer having to step in and try and comfort her. “You’re not leaving me too! No! Link! I love you, I love you!”

          “Ma’am,” the police officer said, placing a hand on Amelia’s shoulder. “No! Don’t touch me!” Amelia snapped, one of her hands reaching up to his throat and she could feel a pulse, it was faint and weak but it was there.

         “His pulse is weak, we’re not losing him! I am not letting you guys lose him.” Her hands were moving to the centre of his chest now, and she was doing CPR, because she needed him alive. 

         “I can’t do it without him, I won’t- I won’t survive this.” She wasn’t lying. She will not survive this. She can’t lose another person that she loves, especially to a gunshot.

          The police officer had the audacity to try and pull Amelia off while her bloody hands where pushing down on the middle of his chest, trying her best to keep him alive. “No!” Amelia screamed, using one of her hands quickly to shove the police officer away.

           “No! He’s dying, what are you doing?!” Ignoring the police, she continued giving Link CPR, also ripping her jacket off to put it against his wound. “I’m a doctor, I know what I’m doing.”

           She was sobbing, her entire body taken over with cries and shakes. There was still ringing in her ears and she was trying to slow her breathing so that she wouldn’t have a panic attack. There was so much blood, it was pooling on the floor and his white shirt was almost completely dark red and Amelia’s hands and wrists were coloured. She’s a doctor, a damn surgeon, she should be used to the sight of blood but there was so much. She could hear the sirens off in the distance meaning an ambulance was coming, he might be okay. She hopes he’ll be okay, she’s praying. Link’s eyelashes were slowly opening and then slowly closing, his hand weakly reaching for Amelia’s that was moving up and down on his chest. A weak cough escaped his lungs. “Please-“ She cried out, there was blood on her own shirt now.

            A team of paramedics and a gurney was next to Amelia, and they were taking over and instead of leaving them to do their job, she leaned over and grabbed Link’s face in her hands. “I can’t do this without you, Link, I love you.”

           The paramedics where then lifting him onto a gurney, a mask put over his face while one of the paramedics pumped it, giving him some oxygen. She grabbed his hand, hers shaking in his and his was weak, but his fingers were loosely intertwined with hers. They were rushing him into the back of the ambulance, and she followed, sitting down beside him in the van while paramedics worked to keep him alive.

             “I’m in love with you,” she whispered, tightening her grip on his hand. “Oh my god, I’m in love with you. Please god, I need him to live.” She was praying, begging, she needed him.

             The ambulance was already making their way to the hospital, Grey Sloan being the closest. She pulled his hand up to her cheek and there was still tears spilling out of her face, and her other hand was running through his hair softly. “You’re going to be okay.”

————————

             The doors of the ambulance flew open and the paramedic jumped out, pulling the gurney out with her. “GSW to the chest, pulse is there but it’s weak.” Owen Hunt, head of trauma was the one who was there to treat him, followed by her sister, head of cardio, Maggie Pierce.

              “Oh my god.” Maggie said softly, stopping in her tracks for a brief moment to focus on what she was looking at. Link in a gurney, covered in blood, and Amelia was also covered, stepping down from the ambulance. She was concerned, very worried, and confused why her sister was covered in blood. “What happened?”

             “Crazy gunman,” Amelia’s voice was so soft that Maggie could barely here her. Her eyes were puffy and it was obvious that she hadn’t stopped crying. “There was a robbery at the gas station and he shot him.” She broke down in tears again, falling to the ground. “He shot him, Maggie. I saw it happen, I saw-“

             Maggie kneeled down in front of her while Owen rushed Link inside the hospital to bring him into a trauma room. “Hey,” Maggie whispered. “I’m going to do everything I can to save him.”

            “Please-“ she choked out. “Please make sure he’s okay.”

             While she stood outside the window of the ER room, it felt like the world was moving in slow motion. The doctors working on Link were moving slowly, in her mind, and they were assessing the situation, their stress levels through the roof. Amelia’s hands were still shaking and she was covered in blood, if nobody knew what happened they’d think she was the one who was hurt.

            “He’s crashing!” Maggie yelled, immediately moving to his chest to start compressions. “I need a crash kart!”

             The nurses were running in with a kart with a defibrillator, soon after Maggie reached down for them. “Charge to 300!” She yelled and placed them on both sides of his chest before telling everyone to clear, and then they shocked him.

          “No rhythm, charge to 400.” She places the paddles on each side again before the shocked him once more. “C’mon.”

           “We have a rhythm!” Maggie yelled, placing the paddles back onto the kart. Amelia let out a sigh of relief before Bailey was running over, peering into the trauma room window herself.

            “Oh my god, what happened?” Bailey asked, slightly reaching over and touching Amelia’s shoulder for support, but she was numb. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, the world was moving in slow motion around her. Her mind was all over the place, and she kept feeling dizzy.

           “I have to bring him to surgery.” Maggie said, coming around the corner while pulling the gurney with her. “I’m going to do everything I can do.”

            “I’m coming with you,” Amelia finally spoke, stepping forward and grabbing onto the gurney. Her pulse was still high, and her mind was still fuzzy.

            “You’ll wait in the waiting room like every other family member.” Bailey ordered, which made Amelia’s eyes roll and a huff came out of mouth.

           “Please, Bailey.”

           “It’s the rules, you know that.” And Amelia gave up, because it was the rules. She would have to wait like everybody else, and try to be patient but she felt like she won’t be able to sit still.

            “I’ll give you updates as much as I can.” Maggie brushed her shoulder before they were going through the Authorized Personnel Only sign and she was sliding down the wall. She couldn’t cry anymore, it was like she was out of tears. She sat on the floor, her back pressed against the wall while the blood dried onto her sink. She didn’t want to move, she couldn’t move. The waiting room was too far, she thinks waiting here on the floor is a better idea.

            How can something like this happen again? How can she relive something as traumatic as this? Will she even survive this?

#amelink #amelia and link #ameliashepherd #amelia x link #link and amelia #link #atticus link #gresyanatomy #ameliafics #amelinkfics #greysanatomyfics #amelia #ameliaandlink #stories

[wheresmynaya]

Hate to Date Ch.8 | Brittana

A/N - These next two chapters are probably some of the more difficult ones I've written so far for this story so be gentle LOL. Also, I've noticed readers saying in their reviews lately that these weekly updates are like waiting for a new episode of a fav tv show and I love that. One of the things I miss about Glee or whatever show I’m obsessed with is having something to look forward to each week so I'm really happy this story offers you all that kind of comfort! Hopefully I can keep it up 💙

Before you read on, consider treating your local fav fic writer with a coffee through Ko-Fi!

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

When Saturday rolls around, Santana putters around the apartment attempting to busy herself with meaningless tasks – anything that’ll keep her from anxiously watching the clock. She lounges in her sweatpants and a tank top all day, switching from vegging out on the couch to catching up on some coursework, but it gets harder for her to resist the urge to check the time the later it gets.

No matter what she does, no matter the many distractions she tries piling on – she can’t help but cave.

She can’t help but think about Brittany.  

When Puck gets home a little later from hanging out with a couple guys from his team, he finds Santana close to falling asleep on the couch. He takes in the lazy clothes she wears, the messy hair, the sea of snacks that surrounds her and lifts a brow.

“What’s this?”

“What’s it look like?” Santana snarks.

“It looks like you’ve just gone through a rough break up.”

Santana shoots him a look, “I’m clearly having a lazy day.”

He glances from her to the tv screen and back to her again, “Is that what you call it?”

“Yeah,” Santana replies and averts her eyes as she tugs on her blanket. “You can either join or scram.”

Puck rolls his eyes and reaches for the remote. When the screen shuts off, Santana lets out a huff but Puck only crosses his arms.

“What the hell?” She snaps. “I was watching that!”

“So?” Puck challenges.

“So turn it back on.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll kick your ass.”

Puck barks out a laugh, “I’d like to see you try. Go ahead.”

Santana doesn’t move, “I don’t have the energy for this.”

“You’re so damn frustrating,” Puck shakes his head.

The comment makes Santana falter a little; it makes her think about Brittany again, it makes her think about how she let her down, it makes her think about how it made her feel to watch the blonde run away.

But Brittany isn’t here, it’s Puck and Santana knows he doesn’t scare off too easily.

“Just leave me alone,” Santana grumbles.

Of course, Puck doesn’t.

“Are you seriously not going tonight?”

Santana clenches her jaw as the anxious feeling returns. It didn’t take much but she’s wavering and she knows it. Puck probably knows it too or else he wouldn’t be here pressing her buttons still.

“I told you I can’t go,” She tells him defiantly. “I’d only ruin her night. She doesn’t need that, no one does. It’s better if I stay here.”

“Bullshit,” Puck disputes. “You don’t know that.”

Santana stays quiet, she can feel her foundation cracking.

“I do know that,” She says. “You saw how pissed she was when she left. I’d just make things worse if I go.”

Puck sighs tiredly, “Why do you always do that?”

“What?”

“That,” Puck tries to explain. “It’s just like high school – you’re taking yourself out of the game before you even play it.”

That strikes a nerve with Santana, “That’s not what happened and you know it. This is so much different.”

“You gave up then,” Puck tells her. “And you’re giving up now. Why? I don’t know. This should be way easier for you. There’s no scholarship on the line or this big scary secret you need to help hide. You’re not even in love with the girl this time but here you are sitting on the damn bench.”

Santana shrinks back. She doesn’t want to talk about the past, she doesn’t want it mixing in with her present so she deflects, “Can you stop with the ridiculous sports metaphors?”

“No. Now get your ass up,” Puck huffs as he pulls off the blanket Santana covers herself with.

“Goddamn it, Puckerman! Cut the shit!”

“You first, Lopez!”

This time, Santana rises to her feet. She faces Puck head on and glares. Her fists are tight and her chest aches with rage and something else, something she’s tried so many times to push away.

“You know what you have to do,” Puck says. “Stop with the excuses and just go do it already. Quit being a little punk about it.”

“I’m not being a punk,” Santana grumbles.

Puck laughs as he waves his hand at her mess, “All this because Britt finally called you out on your shit? Come on, you’re better than that.”

Santana tenses her jaw again but Puck only softens as he puts his heavy hands on her shoulders, going into total pep talk mode. Santana tries to squirm away, but Puck steadies her like always.

No one would ever expect that this guy, the one with a ratty mohawk, could be the voice of reason for Santana but he’s never failed her before. Just like her, he doesn’t back down. He sticks by her even when she’s being a stubborn dumbass and if anyone needs someone in their life like that it’s Santana.

“I know you,” He says solemnly. “Going to this thing tonight is a piece of cake, all you have to do is quit selling yourself short and go.”

Santana’s shoulders drop even further as Puck continues.

“Prove yourself wrong and kill it,” He says. “You owe it to yourself and you owe it to Brittany.”

There’s an uneasiness still but Santana can’t lie and say Puck’s words didn’t ignite something within her. It goes without saying that his words have had an impact. She bats off his hands and glances at the time, frowning when she sees how late it has gotten.

“I don’t think I can make it in time,” Santana says. “I can’t get ready in forty minutes. My hair alone takes at least an hour.”

“Well what’s that saying?” Puck questions. “Better late than never?”

Santana sighs through a small smile, “I mean, I do like to make an entrance.”

Puck smirks, “Then you better get going.”

\\

Santana’s used to walking into parties like she owns the place, but she finds herself struggling as she approaches the entrance of the Brainiacs’ Ball. She stares up at the prominent steps flanked by solid columns and has never felt so small in all her life. She’s way out of her comfort zone, but she takes the first step anyway.

Slowly, she puts one foot in front of the other. She can feel the low thrum of the bass from the music inside before she can actually hear it. At least that’s something she’s a little more familiar with and with that in mind, she continues her journey.

Maybe Puck was right? This is a piece of cake!

When she reaches the top and looks back, she finds Puck still waiting at the bottom of the stairs watching on like a proud soccer mom. He catcalls at her loudly and it causes the last of the guests making their way inside to stare.

Santana scrunches her face and waves him away, not wanting to be embarrassed by how he sticks out like a sore thumb in his ripped jeans and jersey. He gets the message though and gives her one last round of thumbs up before heading off.

Though she tries to play it off like she can’t stand his dorkiness, she’s thankful for that little bit of extra support and finds enough courage to walk into the building with her head held high.

She might not feel like she owns the place right now, but that’ll change by the end of the night!

\\

Santana knew it was a black tie affair, but she really didn’t expect such extravagance.

There’s a great crystal chandelier hanging from above casting iridescent shadows across the lobby, spotless marbled floors speckled with flecks of gold, the ruby red carpet leading the way into the grand hall where guests dressed to kill mingle with champagne flutes in their hands.

All that’s missing are the annoying paparazzi and the blinding flashes from their cameras and she’d feel like she was at some gaudy Hollywood party.

It’s like she just walked into one of the parties Maribel’s firm throws for holidays and she so wasn’t expecting that. Although she’s been to many of those, she still feels a little out of place as she makes her way through the double doors.

“Good evening,” The doorman greets politely before extending a gloved had to the party. “Welcome to the Brainiacs’ Ball.”

Santana smiles in return and heads in. She tries to keep an eye out for Brittany all while trying to wrap her head around the fact that all of this is in celebration of a handful of academic decathlon clubs.

Who the hell knew they got down like this? Even their DJ has great music playing! Santana’s so surprised, almost distractingly so but then she spots a familiar someone in the crowd.

Brittany

There’s a sudden sense of relief but it’s soon replaced with a frown as Santana finds that the girl isn’t alone. She’s with some tall guy; Santana can’t really see that far to tell who it is or if she knows him. All she knows is that Brittany is standing with him and she’s laughing.

He’s making her laugh.

Santana’s frown deepens before she squints her eyes, trying to get a better look at the guy. Like the others here, he’s dressed to the nines in a dashing suit with his black hair slicked back.

Okay, whatever – he can clean up well. Santana can too! But the important question is, what’s he doing with Brittany?

She ducks behind a vase of flowers, peering through the gaps in the leaves so Brittany doesn’t spot her. She only briefly thinks about how ridiculous she must look before other guests unknowingly happen to block her view.

Frustrated, she tries ducking and dodging them but even in her stilettos she’s just too short. She’ll need to get closer if she wants to see what this guy’s deal is, but as she makes her way over she can’t help but think: did Brittany really replace her?

Surely not, that would definitely raise suspicion. She wouldn’t do that.

Would she?

Suddenly, a waiter dressed formally in a suit and tie steps in Santana’s path. There’s a silver tray full of champagne flutes atop his hand and he looks to Santana expectantly.

“Champagne?”

Santana takes one last look at Brittany and that guy and goes for a glass.

“Yeah, sure.” She takes one and downs it in two gulps.

The waiter raises his brows in awe and quickly goes to turn away, but Santana stops him.

“Hold up,” She says and puts down her empty glass in favor of taking two more. She smiles sweetly at him in thanks before getting her game face on. She finds herself thinking about what Puck said before and starts to fill with confidence – no more sitting on the sidelines for her!

Santana saunters over to Brittany with determination in her eyes.

It’s go time.

\\

“There you are!” Santana greets cheerfully as she reaches Brittany with a champagne flute in each hand. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Brittany stops mid-sentence, her face pale as if she’s just seen a ghost.

“You’re here.”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it,” Santana replies as she hands her the spare flute before pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. She looks up at pretty blue eyes and adds, “I know how important this night is for you.”

Brittany blinks, it’s like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. Santana thinks she’s off to a good start so far – naturally – and sizes up the guy Brittany was talking to before she came over.

“And who are you?” She asks with a slight bite to her tone as she wraps her arm around Brittany’s waist.

He falters as he looks back and forth between her and Brittany, “I’m Mike.”

Santana lifts her brow challengingly, but Brittany steps in to add.

“He’s a friend of mine.”

Santana continues to stare at the guy, “Friend.”

“Yeah,” Brittany glances at her with slight confusion but it quickly disappears as she slips into character too. “I was just telling him you weren’t feeling too good and that you probably wouldn’t make it tonight.”

“Right,” Santana replies. Her smile turns devilish, “Well I appreciate the concern but I’m all better now, Mike.”

He looks a little nervous but nods, “That’s good to hear.”

“Mhmm,” Santana brings her glass to her lips. She maintains eye contact with him while she threads her fingers with Brittany’s and sips her champagne slowly.  

“Well Britt, I’m gonna go,” He says hesitantly to Brittany before jutting a thumb over his shoulder. “I want to make sure we grab a good seat. I’ll see you over at the table.”

“Okay cool,” Brittany smiles. “See you there.”

“It was nice finally meeting you, Santana,” Mike says kindly to the brunette before disappearing into the crowd.

Santana watches him go as she takes another sip. This Mike character really changed up his tune once Santana was around – all nice and polite. He wasn’t fooling her though! Trying to steal her fake girlfriend, not today!

“He’s gone,” Brittany says gruffly. “You can let go of my hand now.”

“Oh sorry,” Santana pulls away and glances in the direction Mike went. “So he’s attractive…what’s he doing at a place like this?”

Brittany doesn’t even smile, “You know not everyone with a brain looks like Steve Urkel.”

Santana doesn’t notice Brittany’s dismissive tone as she looks around. She’s still mind blown by the atmosphere and the people and everything.

“Clearly,” She replies. “I mean, did you see that man’s jawline? I’m a lesbian, but I can still admire a good looking – “

“What are you doing here, Santana?”

Brittany’s curt tone pulls Santana right back to the other day where they sat together at her tiny dining table and she watched as Brittany grew more and more disappointed in her. There’s a hardness to her, an annoyance, that doesn’t go unnoticed. It makes Santana shrink back, that confidence before taking a big hit, but she stands her ground – even if Brittany makes her feel shaken.

“I’m here to be your arm candy,” Santana says in return – attempting to make this exchange lighthearted.

Brittany’s not having it though as she says bitterly, “I don’t need it.”

“Sure you do.”

“No,” Brittany admonishes. “I don’t so you can leave now.”

Santana slips up out of frustration, “Are you really going to make this difficult for me?”

That sets Brittany off once again, the bitterness intensifying.

“Seriously? You did not just ask me that. After everything you said the other night, after the way you just put your foot down and refused to budge? You want to talk to me about being difficult?” Brittany lets out a dry laugh, “You’ve got some nerve.”

Santana cringes as she takes a subtle look around to make sure no one notices them arguing, but no one pays them any mind. It’s a relief, but it doesn’t offer Santana much comfort with the way Brittany’s still glaring at her.

She was a little prepared for the backlash, she just wasn’t sure how bad Brittany’s words would sting. She isn’t used to the harshness in Brittany’s tone and she kind of hates that she’s the reason for it.

Still, she pushes forward. She’s determined to fix this, no matter how hard Brittany fights her.

“Okay,” Santana’s voice is meek. “So that was a poor choice of words... ”

“You think?” Brittany replies, her tone thick with sarcasm.

Santana’s instincts have her wanting to retreat. She has clearly messed up big time and everything in her is telling her to just listen to Brittany and leave – yet her feet don’t move.

Maybe she’s hardheaded, maybe she’s too damn stubborn for her own good; whatever it is, she continues to stand her ground.

“I’m here now,” Santana says earnestly. “That has to count for something?”

Brittany shakes her head, “It doesn’t.”

Santana lets out a laugh out of aggravation. Who knew the girl could be just as stubborn as her? Talk about grudges, no wonder no one ever gets on Brittany’s bad side! It’s damn near impossible to get off of it! But Santana’s made proving she can be there for Brittany her new mission so she’s not going anywhere just yet.

“What do you want me to do?” Santana asks dejectedly. “Get on my hands and knees? Beg for your forgiveness?”

“Save your breath,” Brittany replies briskly as she sets down her glass. “I don’t want to be here with someone that would rather be elsewhere and I’m tired of trying to force you to care.”

That one surprisingly hurts a little more than Santana expected, but it doesn’t top the feeling that quickly follows as she watches Brittany begin to turn her back on her.

“Brittany,” Santana finds herself calling out. When the blonde doesn’t stop, Santana calls out to her again. “Britt – “

“No,” Brittany pauses as she looks over her shoulder at Santana. “You were right. You’d just ruin my night. Go home, Santana.”

It’s another blow to the chest as the blonde turns to walk away again. Only this time, Santana kicks into gear. She’s got something to prove and she’s not leaving until she does! She quickly sets down her glass too and reaches out, catching Brittany by the wrist before she gets too far.

“Can you just wait?” Santana pleads.

“What?” Brittany snaps back.

Santana softens as she tucks her tail between her legs, “I’m sorry.”

Brittany looks a little taken aback by the relaxing of her tensed jaw, but it only last for a moment as she looks down at Santana’s hand still around her wrist.

“Okay, great,” Brittany says sarcastically. “Now let me go.”

Brittany doesn’t wait for Santana to loosen her grip and instead shakes Santana off of her. The brunette doesn’t try reaching for her again, but she does take a step closer.

“Hold on,” Santana urges again. “I’m not finished.”

Brittany pauses, taking a wary look back her. Santana can see that she’s wearing her down, but who knows how long it’ll last. There’s no reason for Brittany to give her another chance after having so many, so she has to make this count.

“I thought about what you said,” Santana tells her. “Like I really, really thought about it and I think you might be right.”

Brittany remains looking indifferent and that makes Santana nervous, but she continues on.

“You’re right about this being one sided. You’re right about you putting in most of the work and doing things that benefit me,” Santana says. “You’re right about it all – minus one thing.”

Brittany quirks her brow, “What’s that?”

“I’m not selfish.”

“No?” Brittany scoffs. “Then you must not know the meaning of the word because your past actions would say otherwise.”

Santana sighs, “Yeah, I know but I guess that’s why I’m here…to prove that you’re wrong.”

Brittany softens in the slightest as she listens.

“I haven’t been fair to you,” Santana explains. “You always go above and beyond. I mean, you climbed through a window for me and you’re learning Spanish to get on Abuela’s good side! Like what the hell? Who does that?” Santana pauses when she realizes she’s veering from her point.

“I know I’m still not on your level when it comes to doing the most,” She continues. “But I figured it’s only fair that I do something that I normally wouldn’t just to show you that all you do isn’t for nothing. By coming here tonight, I’m trying to return the favor. This is my metaphorical window and I want to climb through it for you.”

Santana pauses when she realizes how lame she sounds, but maybe this huge fuck up calls for a little lameness. Maybe a lot; whatever works at this point!

Brittany watches Santana for a moment as if she’s trying to decide whether or not Santana’s words have any weight to them. It isn’t the first time she’s said she’d do better, so it’s no surprise Brittany isn’t as quick to accept her apology.

“I don’t really know if I believe you,” She finally says. Her tone has lost most of its bite but Santana knows she’s not in the clear just yet.

“That’s fine,” Santana replies. She stands a little taller, puffs out her chest and says, “I’ll just have to spend all night trying to convince you. You want a perfect fake girlfriend? Well Britt-Britt, you’ve got one.”

There’s the slightest hint of a smile that graces Brittany’s lips and it makes the dimming beacon of hope in Santana begin to shine a little brighter.

“That is,” Santana adds. “If you want me to. I know this night is important for you. I can go if that’s what you really want.”

She bats her eyelashes for the extra touch – because if after all of that Brittany still makes her leave…well that would just be embarrassing. Surprisingly though, it makes Brittany’s smile grow. Santana can tell she’s fighting to keep it small, fighting to keep from giving in, and she takes that as a personal victory.

“You can stay,” Brittany says after making Santana wait a little longer.

Santana beams, “Okay gre – ”

“For now.”

“Okay,” Santana’s grin softens. “I can handle that.”

“I don’t want to fight with you here,” Brittany tells her firmly. “I only want to have a good time and if you try to mess that up then you’re out of here.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Santana replies.

Brittany holds out her pinky, “Promise?”

Santana eyes her skeptically, “Are you trying to make me pinky promise? What are we twelve?”

“It’s a yes or no question,” Brittany replies flatly – still holding out her pinky.

“Promise,” Santana sighs and curls her pinky around Brittany’s.

Satisfied, Brittany nods and pulls away. While Santana chuckles, she looks over to the direction Mike left.

“So I guess you can go ahead and tell Hot Stuff over there that he doesn’t need to be coming around here anymore too.”

That pulls a genuine laugh out of Brittany who can’t help but smirk at Santana’s comment.

“Shocking; you’re the jealous type.”

Santana lifts her brow, “I’m not. I’m just saying – his assistance as interim date is no longer required if I’m here.”

“I said you can stay for now. I can change my mind at any time.”

Santana’s shoulders droop as she’s once again put back in her place. Brittany notices and smirks.

“He has a date already,” Brittany continues. “His girlfriend. You know her. Tina?”

Santana’s jaw drops a little, “No shit, really?”

“Yeah, they’ve been together for awhile now.”

“Wow, I had no idea. Well good,” Santana lifts her chin. “He can carry his fine ass on over to her and stay there then.”

“You’re really hung up on how people can be both smart and hot,” Brittany points out with a laugh. “Like you and I aren’t also examples of that being a thing.”

“Hold up,” Santana starts to smirk. “Did you just say I’m hot?”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “I mean, you do look nice.”

Santana frowns, “Just nice?”

Brittany eyes her up and down slowly before shrugging, “Yeah, nice. I’m actually surprised you didn’t wear one of your stripper dresses. Guess you won’t be making it rain tonight.”

Santana lets out a laugh. She’s glad Brittany’s back to bantering with her instead of the heavy intensity from before. Maybe they’re not completely back on good terms, but at least it’s better than what it was.

“We’ll see. Those moves are for later,” Santana winks jokingly before giving her compliments. “You clean up pretty good too. I like what you’ve done with your hair. It’s cute.”

Brittany gets a little bashful as she fluffs her softly tussled hair, “Thanks.”

Santana only nods, “Now where’s this elusive open bar I’ve heard so much about? I needs me something other than champagne.”

“Ah, so that’s the real reason you’re here,” Brittany quips.

Santana feels like Brittany’s testing her although her tone remains playful.

“Yeah, but I’m mostly here for you,” Santana replies super sweetly. “I mean, how can I say no to an open bar? I am a broke college student after all.”

Brittany chuckles, “I see your priorities are straight.”

“It’s the only straight thing about me,” Santana jokes before hooking her arm with Brittany’s.

\\

After getting their drinks, the couple roam around the room arm in arm. It’s mostly to keep up appearances; a way to make up for Santana arriving late and to show that Brittany really isn’t here all alone.

She’s surprised by how many come up to greet them – well, greet Brittany. Santana guesses the blonde really is a big deal here after all and everyone happily chats away with her. Who can blame them though? Brittany’s probably the friendliest person Santana knows.

They bump into Mike and Tina again near the giant owl ice sculpture while they make their rounds – because yeah, of course this party has one of those – but the conversation is kept brief with Tina trying to get in as many interviews with everyone before dinner.

Mike tags along after her with a proud smile on his face as he offers to hold her drink and for a second Santana kind of feels a little guilty about having her claws out when they first met. He seems kind, happy to be alongside Tina and Santana finds herself wondering if people get that vibe when she’s with Brittany.

While Santana and Brittany linger by the ice sculpture, Santana notices a small group of people that look a lot like the guys from Brittany’s team. At least the one in the center of it all is for sure. They stick out to her because they’re probably some of the lasts who haven’t come to greet Brittany which seems odd considering she’s their teammate.

Wouldn’t they have been the first to see her? Maybe Santana missed that part since she arrived late, then again judging by how they seemed to shun her at the match they probably haven’t come to say hi on purpose.

Santana quietly watches them though as Brittany chats with another guest about robotics or whatever nerdy talk that goes completely over Santana’s head. She notices how they all gravitate to the one guy in the center and it’s like they hang on his every word. They laugh when he does, they nod when he nods – they’re puppets and he’s the puppet master.

Santana doesn’t realize she’s pulling a face until Brittany bumps her with her elbow.

“Quit it,” Brittany chastises. “People can see you.”

“My bad,” Santana fixes her face and gestures over to the group. “He’s on your team, right? The one in the dusty grandpa sweater.”

Brittany glances in the direction and nods.

Santana wrinkles her nose, “He seems like a tool.”

“He’s not,” Brittany’s quick to defend before softening. “Not really.”

Santana doesn’t looked convinced so Brittany adds.

“He’s a pretty big deal to this community. People say he has one of the most gifted minds in our generation.”

Santana picks up on Brittany’s tone, but she can’t tell whether it’s envy or something entirely different. She knows one thing is for sure though.

“People say that about you too,” Santana tells her honestly. “The whole gifted mind thing.”

Brittany shakes her head and looks to the ground, “No they don’t.”

Her dismissiveness confuses Santana. She’s never not seen Brittany confident in how intelligent she actually is. If there’s one thing Santana knows the blonde is sure about, it’s her smarts. They argue about it all the time! That’s the very foundation of their rivalry, but apparently here that’s not the case.

“Word about his work has travelled all the way to MIT,” Brittany adds. “It’s so impressive.”

“And yet, he never went there. You did,” Santana reminds her as she continues to stare down the guy. She glances to Brittany again skeptically, “Or is he a transfer too?”

“He’s not. But I’m sure he would’ve gotten in easy. His work is…it’s legendary.”

Santana watches Brittany, trying to figure her out. It sounds a lot like admiration rather than envy, but why? How great can this guy possibly be if he has Brittany doubting herself?

“I didn’t know you were such a fan,” Santana comments.

“I just admire him is all,” Brittany says, confirming Santana’s thoughts.

Santana still doesn’t get it though and frowns around the word, “Admire…”

The both of them watch the man chat with the others silently for two very different reasons. The longer Santana stares, the more she kind of wants to punch him. He just has a very punchable face she supposes, especially when he laughs louder than anyone else in the room.

The sound makes Santana grit her teeth while it has the opposite effect on Brittany.

“He’s kind of cute too,” The blonde admits.

“Cute?” Santana raises both brows and laughs. “We looking at the same guy?”

Brittany shrugs, “He’s cute in that boy next door kind of way.”

“Seriously?” Santana snickers. “That Mike guy was kind of cute. Him? He ain’t it.”

Brittany suddenly hardens, “Well it doesn’t matter what you think. Does it?”

Santana’s taken aback.

“It’s not always about looks,” Brittany further chastises. “There’s more to people than that.”

Santana keeps quiet and nods, not wanting to piss Brittany off again. Afterall, her presence is completely dependent on whether or not Brittany wants her around. She can revoke the privilege at any second and Santana would hate to be kicked to the curb because she once again can’t keep her opinions to herself.

“What’d you say his name was again?” She asks a moment later.

“Artie.”

Suddenly something clicks. She remembers the conversation she had with Brittany’s parents at Brittany’s last match and the comment about someone named Artie.

“So that’s who your parents were talking about,” Santana hums.

“Wait what?” Brittany whirls on her. “I’ve mentioned him like twice. What’d they say?”

Santana shrugs, “They said dating me is an upgrade.”

Brittany gives her a look and slumps, “They didn’t say that.”

“No, but it’s true.”

“They clearly don’t know you well enough.”

Santana cringes, “Hey, I’m trying. At least I’m not a tool like that guy.”

“Debatable.”

“Rude.”

They settle into silence again. Santana goes from scanning the crowd to glancing Brittany’s way. She notices how the blonde continues to gravitate towards Artie too, just like one of his puppets. Santana finds it so odd and the curiosity begins to get the better of her.

“So what’s your deal with him?” She asks. “He an ex I need to worry about?”

“No. It’s nothing like that,” Brittany replies.

Santana doesn’t believe that for a second though.

“I sense a story.”

“There isn’t one,” Brittany says with a shrug. “We were friends and now, I don’t know what we are. Things got weird after I was asked to join the robotics team and he wasn’t. We used to study all the time together, but after that happened he kind of kept me at a distance.”

Santana struggles to mask the disdain she has for this guy. He really is a tool if that’s how he acts. But she fights the urge to speak on it, sensing Brittany still has some kind of connection with him.

“Do you like him or something?” Santana wonders.

Brittany shrugs again, “It’s complicated. We’ve got history I guess.”

Santana nods; she can oddly relate to that.

“You know, he was the first friend I made here?” Brittany smiles at the memory. “I was so freaking nervous – you know, new campus and all. I spent extra time trying to get my bearings the day before but I still ended up getting lost on my first day. Artie was the one who took the time to show me around.”

Santana quirks a brow at that, but notices Brittany’s melancholy even more.

“Don’t tell Tina that,” Santana tries to joke. “We’ll have some conflicting stories.”

When Brittany barely gives her a smile, Santana tries again.

“I thought Puck was the one who showed you around?” Santana asks. “That’s how you guys became friends?”

“He was, but Artie was the first.”

“Huh,” Santana glances at the guy and laughs. “He must not have done a very good job then if you still ended up getting lost.”

This time there’s a small that graces Brittany’s lips, but it’s not nearly as big and bright as Santana’s used to. She’ll just have to try harder.

“He also introduced me to the Brainiacs,” Brittany tells her. “It was pretty cool of him. When I was at MIT, it was hard to get into any clubs. Everyone was kind of cliquey, so it was nice to see that things were different here. Everyone on the team was super accepting at first.”

“At first?” Santana questions.

“Yeah,” Brittany starts to frown. “When I first joined, the team was mostly girls and they were really great – super smart and so lovely – but they graduated last year. Now the dynamic’s changed a lot because of all the new people who seem to worship Artie. That’s probably part of the reason for his ego boost.”

Santana turns up her nose at that, but Brittany’s quick to return to the positives.

“But when it’s just us, he’s not so bad. He really looked out for me when I first came to Columbia. He introduced me to the Brainiacs and recommended me for the tutoring gig,” Brittany tells her. “We used to work together all the time until I got into this fake relationship with you.”

“Sorry not sorry,” Santana quips, but Brittany doesn’t really laugh at that. So Santana softens, a little intrigued by Brittany’s past, “So after all that time spent together, nothing ever happened between you two?”

“No,” Brittany replies. “I don’t think it ever would anyway.”

“Because you’re taken or…”

Brittany sighs at the joke, “Like I said, things got weird after I joined the robotics team. It was like the first time I did something for myself without his help or recommendation and I guess it rubbed him the wrong way?”

“You’re friends, aren’t you?” Santana questions. “Why would he feel some type of way about you branching out?”

“I don’t know,” Brittany shrugs. “Maybe I’m looking too much into things? Maybe he really doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

Santana shakes her head and stares at Artie again, “Well it looks like on top of being a tool, he’s an idiot too.”

Then almost as if he was summoned, Artie looks their way.

Santana finds herself straightening up, trying to stand taller, trying to seem more intimidating, but it doesn’t look like it deters the guy as he begins his journey over.

\\

“Brittany,” Artie greets with a nod. “Hi.”

Brittany smiles, “Hey Artie.”

He then looks to Santana and gives her a curious look full of judgement. It has Santana clenching her teeth, trying her hardest to maintain character when all she wants to do is roll the guy into the giant owl ice sculpture.

“Who’s this?” He asks Brittany as if Santana can’t hear.

Santana breaks slightly and scoffs, “You know how I am.”

Artie raises his brow and looks expectantly to Brittany.

“This is my girlfriend, Santana,” Brittany introduces. “I’ve mentioned her to you before.”

“Right,” Artie looks to Santana again. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

Santana stares back challengingly, “I bet your hear that a lot.”

Artie sits back in his chair with this smug look on his face, “Funny. She’s funny.”

“It’s one of my many top notch qualities,” Santana fires back before looking to Brittany. Her arm goes around her waist, “Ain’t that right, babe?”

It takes a moment for Brittany to play along, but then she’s smiling and melting into Santana’s side, “Yeah. Totally.”

Artie only eyes the two though, out of suspicion or jealousy – Santana’s unsure. She’s hoping for the latter, because it seems like no one’s ever put him in his place before. Santana’s just the girl for the job!

“So do you think the team is going to get the top spot, Artie?” Brittany asks, trying to keep things light. “It was a lot of close matches this year, I hope our percentage is enough to pull us through.”

Artie shakes his head, almost like he’s disappointed. “I don’t know. Several of those matches shouldn’t have been that close. You really should’ve spent more time studying.”

Santana’s brows rise, but she remains quiet – looking to Brittany to see her reaction. To her surprise, the blonde looks just as remorseful.

“Yeah, you’re right. I think I was having an off day.”

“I think you had a lot of those,” Artie quips. “Too busy with the robotics team maybe?”

Santana scoffs, “Is he joking?”

But Brittany doesn’t say anything so Santana keeps quiet too.

“Some competitors take a little while to warm up,” Artie continues. “You just aren’t a seasoned contender like I am. You know I hold the record for fastest buzz in during my rookie season?”

“I know.”

“No one’s come close to beating it,” Artie flaunts. “We might’ve made state if you didn’t botch the science round during the last match. Maybe I should’ve taken the turn instead.”

Brittany nods and Santana can tell she’s trying to take his criticism constructively – only problem is that it’s not constructive at all. It’s completely condescending and uncalled for.

“Hold up, no,” Santana finds herself interrupting which seems to surprise the pair. “Brittany killed it during the finals or whatever you call it. She was buzzing in when no one else on your little team was. Not even you knew those answers, so what I think you need to be doing is thanking her.”

“For what?” Artie challenges.

“For carrying the team obviously. No way you would’ve gotten far if it wasn’t for her.”

Brittany looks a little shocked by the way Santana stands up for her, but Santana barely notices – too busy willing Artie to step out of line again.

And he does, with an arrogant laugh, he brushes Santana off.

“But the time it took her to buzz in is what we lose points for,” Artie explains. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand how academic decathlons work. They’re not like your cheerleading competitions, we actually have to use our brains.”

“Artie,” Brittany chastises but he’s unfazed.

Meanwhile Santana’s eyes are wide with surprise. The nerve, the audacity – it’s unbelievable!

“I’m sorry,” Santana starts to lean forward, getting down on his level. “Are you jealous that you can’t possibly possess both brains and brawn?”

Artie shifts in his chair and tries to evade Santana’s eye, but she’s so close now that he can’t avoid her.

“Or do you feel threatened by it?” Santana presses. “Threatened because this cheerleader’s GPA is something you’ve only dreamt of having and I didn’t have to waste away in a musty old library to get it? Tell me, Wheels, who was it again that was on track to be valedictorian until Brittany came along because I don’t remember seeing your name anywhere on the list.”

Artie’s face goes a little red that time; out of embarrassment or anger, Santana doesn’t care. All she cares about is making sure that he knows he isn’t shit and there’s no way he’ll talk to Brittany like that while she’s around.

There’s only one person in the world that can pick on Brittany and that’s her.

“The keyword is was,” He retorts.

“The keyword is you’re a prick,” Santana bites back just as fiercely.

“Okay,” Brittany cuts in. She gives Santana a little tug until she can curl an arm around her waist, “I think that’s enough of that.”

Artie continues to look shaken, but he does his best to mask it. Trying to be as macho as he can while in that turtleneck sweater he must’ve stolen from his grandfather’s closet. Safe to say it doesn’t fool Santana one bit.

“Well, I can see why you like her, Britt,” Artie comments with a glance in Santana’s direction. “She’s fiery.”

“She’s also this close to going all Lima He– “

“Santana,” Brittany scolds again.

There’s a pleading look in her eye that has Santana softening. She remembers what Brittany said earlier about tonight being fun and not wanting to fight, so Santana let’s Brittany pull her back. She settles, but it feels like it’s only the calm before the storm.

Artie notices too and puts on a smug grin, “Come to think of it, I have heard your name floating around on campus. Santana Lopez; the girl can’t be tied down to save her life.”

“Well Brittany’s changed that,” Santana quips. “Hasn’t she?”

“Hmm,” Artie nods but the stare he gives her is almost analytical. “It’s not really a pairing I would’ve pictured considering your history.” He then looks to Brittany and frowns, “I’m pretty sure you once told me that she couldn’t possibly have any redeeming qualities.”

Santana tries looking unfazed, but she can’t lie and say that comment didn’t sting. One look at Brittany and she can sense the guilt, but she keeps it hidden from Artie. Santana can’t hold it against Brittany though if she did say something like that about her, there’s been many times she’s complained about the blonde to Puck too.

But that was before they got to know each other, that was before they had to work together to emulate this perfect couple.

“Looks like I was wrong about that,” Brittany replies behind a smile that’s directed at Santana. She squeezes a little at the brunette’s waist, “Who would’ve known, opposites really do attract?”

Santana chuckles, remembering saying something similar during a conversation with Tina months ago.

“It sure took me by surprise,” Santana adds before glancing to Artie. “Guess I have some pretty redeeming qualities after all.”

Artie hums again with this contemplative look on his face, but he doesn’t rock the boat any further. He just nods and says, “Well this was fun. I guess I’ll leave you two to enjoy the Ball.”

Santana sneers at him while Brittany bids him goodbye.

“Oh. By the way Britt,” Artie pauses and glances back. “You look really great.”

Santana raises a brow at the compliment.

She wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but there’s the slightest little smirk on his dumb face as he says it and it has Santana feeling hot. Even if Brittany isn’t her actual girlfriend, what the hell? Who compliments another person’s date right in front of them? It seems as though Artie knows exactly what he’s doing, but given her promise to Brittany she’ll bite her tongue – for now.

While Brittany ducks her head in thanks, Santana stays quiet – waiting until Artie is out of sight before she can finally let down her guard and say what’s really on her mind.  

#hate to date #brittana #brittana fanfiction #enemies to lovers #fake dating au

[sunnydaisy1]

Just a Cold

MARK SLOAN X READER

REQUEST: Could you do one for when Mark is the reader is sick, but is doing everything to not have him notice. Then ends up getting worse. Sorry hope this makes sense lol :)- Anonymous

A/N: I loved this request sooo much! I wasn’t sure whether you wanted Mark and the reader to be in a relationship or not so I kinda did it like they might be but it could also be just flirting idk? I hope I wrote it okay and that you enjoy it :)

*WHY ISNT THERE A CONCERNED MARK GIF WHERE HE ISNT CRYING URGH*

I blinked my eyes open as sun shot through the blinds into my room, glaring across the white and grey walls. I groaned and rolled over, covering my face with a pillow as i slammed the alarm clock off. A vicious cough ripped through me and I winced, my chest contracting and sharp pains running through my head. It was my own fault really, i had gotten off work a little earlier than usual and decided to go for a walk while it was still light out. My downfall really was when I had decided against bringing a coat, instead trusting the stupid jumper I was wearing to keep me warm. The weather had looked nice enough to begin with but after 20 minutes the sky had decided to chuck buckets of water down on me and I was drenched, resulting in the now painful cold I had given myself. I opened my eyes again and looked at the clock, trying to turn the minutes back to give me more sleep. When this failed, I rolled out of my fluffy, lucious cloud of a bed and walked to the bathroom, hoping a warm shower would wake me up and heal my blocked sinuses. I rubbed my eyes as I stepped into the tiled room, looking at the mirror. My reflection wasn't too bad although I could see my eyes were a little puffy and my nose was sporting a tinge of flaring red. Sighing, I turned the shower on and undressed, pulling my hair up into a bun and stepping into the relaxing steamy fumes. When I had finished getting ready and had grabbed a breakfast bar that would end up ignored in my locker, I trudged out the door, locking it behind me and starting the 10 minute walk to the hospital. I really hoped I would have time to grab some medicine before rounds but I doubted it, seeing as I had spent way too long dying in the shower. A strong breeze ripped past me and I shuddered, pulling my coat closer to me and trying to hold down the scratching cough at the back of my throat. I soon arrived at the hospital doors and gladly went inside, thankful for the shelter against the weather. I walked slowly to the residents' locker room, smiling at a few nurses as they walked past. The room was bustling with noise as I entered and a few people called out my name but I just smiled, making my way over to my locker next to Alex. He turned to face me once he saw me coming over and chuckled at my pained expression. "You look like crap." He said as I stripped off my jacket and jumper, pulling my scrubs over the long sleeved shirt I thankfully wore. "Thanks so much Karev." I hissed, now pulling off my trousers and yanking on the rougher blue scrub ones. "No worries Y/N." He grinned at me and I rolled my eyes, sitting down next to him. The locker room seemed to be getting louder by the second and I shut my eyes, trying to block out the dull pain in my head. I stayed like that for a few minutes until I felt Alex nudge me, "Come on don't want the interns slacking off." I nodded and groaned, standing up. We walked side by side until we reached the nurse's station and he went off to torment his group of suck ups. I gathered the folders with patient info and dragged myself over to my 4 interns who stared at me. "What are you waiting for?" I said harshly and they scampered, heading off to the first patient's room as I followed behind. I wasn't usually that harsh with the interns but I was strict and they behaved well, eager to learn. I tried my best to educate them but sometimes they really got on my nerves. Once we made our way into the first patient's room, the interns lined up by the door while I walked to the bed. "Goodmorning Mr Davis, how are you doing today?" I asked softly, trying to hide my running nose. "Alright, hurts a little but it's getting better." I nodded and looked over to one of my interns, "Johnson?" At once the intern started pratlling on about Mr Davis' case and I nodded along, half listening to him, half trying not to close my eyes. He stopped talking fairly quickly and I nodded, "well done, we need hourly checkups on Mr Davis' vitals for the next few days but you should be ready to go home in a few days." I directed the last part at the patient who nodded and smiled. I walked out the room and passed the interns out the patient folders. The next patient was Mrs Walker who had recently had a rhinoplasty to fix her incredibly wonky broken nose from falling off a ladder while painting her house. It had been a simple case but there were complications in the OR and she was now under careful watch. I noticed Mark standing in the corner of the room and I winced, hoping he would ignore me. I walked to the corner of the room by the door and stood a little away from the patient, listening drowsily to the interns. "Morning Y/N." A voice behind me whispered and my heart picked up pace when I recognised Mark's flirty tone. "Sloan." I said curtly, trying to disguise my illness because I know he would make a big deal out of it and really it was nothing. "Ouch, what's got your panties in a twist today?" Mark teased, easily letting the dirty words roll off his tongue. "Nothing." I retorted, not daring to look Mark in the eye. I could feel the warmth of his body behind me and I wanted so desperately to reach out and let his comforting hold engulf me but I couldn't, not wanting him to make a big deal. "If you say so missy." He replied, whispering close to my ear. Despite my cold, I could feel heat rush through my body at Mark's seductive words. Normally I could retort with a witty remark but today the only thing my brain could focus on was the increasing ache in my bones. "Mark if you have finished flirting with Dr L/N, we have other patients to attend to." Derek called out, and I blushed, not even realising he had come into the room. "See you later L/N." Mark said as he left the room, leaving me wanting his heat back. The rest of rounds passed by incredibly slow and I now sat in the locker room again, trying to catch up on forms and paperwork that needed filling out. I had turned most of the lights off so the room was darker and was nursing a warm coffee in my hands. The soothing silence was helping to ease the growing ache in my head but the incessant coughing wasn't letting up. Suddenly, my pager started beeping and I groaned, putting my hot drink down and speed walking to Bailey. I was almost in the patient's room when I spotted Mark coming out of another room a few doors down and I quickly leaped into a supply closet before he could see me. I really loved Mark but he didn't need to see me when I was all runny nosed and coughing like a diseased hag. I waited 20 seconds, counting in my head before opening the door again and checking the coast was clear. It was so I walked out and over to Bailey's patient's room where she stood, talking to him about his upcoming surgery. She shot me daggers when I entered the room and I mouthed a sorry before explaining to Mr Morrison the risks. At lunchtime, I had just finished with a code blue, hoping to head to a dark, quiet space away from distractions. I was just stepping around a corner when I bumped into a solid chest, immediately apologising before looking up to see who it was. "Oh, Mark." I said, scanning the area to look for a way out and avoiding his gorgeous eyes. "Sorry about that Y/N, seems I have a knack for bumping into pretty women going for their lunch." I nodded absent-mindedly, trying to get away. "Right yeah urm I need to go." I said, going to walk past Mark but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "Woah woah woah what's the matter?" He asked, instantly concerned at my dismissal of his flirting. "Nothing." I said and he shook his head, bending his head down to meet my averting gaze. "You said that earlier." Mark continued, both hands now on my arms as he kept me still. "mm." I hummed, staring at the wall behind Mark. "You sure you're okay, you look a bit like your going to throw up." He said, concern lacing his voice. "No Im fine." I said, smiling weakly before scooting off down the halls leaving a worried plastic surgeon behind. For the rest of the afternoon, I sat on the bottom floor filling out charts. My headache and coughs had been getting progressively worse to the point where I could barely move due to my body aching so much. Luckily I wasn't in any surgeries today and Bailey hadn't been so much on my heels today although Mark had paged me a few times to the Attending room which I ignored. He had spotted me earlier after Mer had wanted me in the research room but I had run down the halls back here before he could catch me. I knew it was only a matter of time before he sought me out. I was almost done filling out the last chart when the door swung open and a familiar head of peppered hair came through the doors. I cringed inwardly and tried to make myslef as small as possible in the gap between the two hospital beds. I waited, trying to control my laboured breathing as he walked nearer, calling out my name. I closed my eyes shut as he closed in on my position. "Y/N?" Mark asked as he spotted my feet poking out from between the two beds. I winced at his voice and he ducked down, crouching in front of me and placing a hand on each of my bent knees. "Y/N?" He asked again and I opened my eyes. He sucked in a breath and immediately tried to bring me closer to him but I groaned. "No please Mark it hurts." I whispered, my voice just a croak. "Jesus Y/N you look like a ghost." Mark said, his face serious and eyes kind. I tried to smile but I couldn't manage, my head flaring up with every movement. Mark gathered the charts I had lying around me and placed them on the nearby bed before squatting back down. "Hey let's get you out of here." He softly said, but I shook my head, sniffling and wincing at the ache. "Come on, I'll help you." He continued, placing a hand on my warm cheek. I looked into his eyes and gave in, nodding slightly. Mark wrapped an arm around my waist and put another on my hip as he helped lift me up, careful to not be to rough. "That's it." He softly spoke, my hands resting on his upper arms for support. As soon as I was standing he brought me into his chest, resting his head on top of mine and stroking my back softly. I closed my eyes and breathed in his comforting scent, relaxing into the warmth. I felt Mark's hand smooth my hair and kiss the top of my head before he whispered, "Why didn't you tell me you were ill?" He stepped back slightly but still held me close, looking into my eyes. "I didn't want to bother you, it's not that bad." I replied, slightly shaky. "Y/N..." Mark said, brushing my hair behind my ear and cupping my face. "What bother's me is not knowing your ill and not being able to help." He said, bringing me back into his arms. "Im sorry." I said, nuzzling into his neck. "It's okay, let's get you into bed." Mark replied, kissing my forehead. Mark had ended up persuading me to go to his house, and I was currently stood in his bathroom, a towel wrapped around me. The steam from the hot shower had freed up my nose a little but the throbbing in my head hadn't let up yet. I walked into Mark's bedroom, rubbing my eyes. "Hey." Mark smirked, making me open my eyes to see his stupid self standing there with a cheeky grin as his eyes ran up and down my body. "My eyes are up here." I said quietly, making him chuckle and a small smile come across my face. "You know I think my towel on you is my new favourite look of yours." Mark said as he watched me walk across the carpeted floor to him. I narrowed my eyes at him and sniffled, holding onto the white fluffy towel that just surpassed my bum tightly. "If I wasn't so ill right now Sloan, I'd punch that pretty little grin off of your face." I hissed, taking the sweatpants and tshirt out of his hands. "Oh so you think I'm pretty then?" Mark teased, eyes still wandering. "Piss off." I said, watching Mark as he smirked wider and I headed into the bathroom again, closing the door. When I had managed to pull the black tshirt on, I looked at the sweatpants and groaned, resenting having to struggle into another item of huge clothing. It was worse than putting leggings on after swimming. I had panties on and Mark's tshirt came down to my mid thigh so I unlocked the door, hoping Mark had a pair of shorts I could wear. As soon as I stepped out, Mark sat up on the bed, eyes raking my body yet again. "Jeez Y/N you think you were trying to kill a man." He said as I walked towards him, cradeling the sweatpants. I was exhausted and couldn't think of any remark so just stuck my hands out, extending the sweatpants to Mark. "I'm too tired to put them on." I said quietly before a violent cough coursed through my body. "Okay come here." Mark said and sat me down on the bed, taking the sweatpants. I expected him to walk off to get some shorts but he crouched down in front of me and lifted my ankle into the cuff of the sweatpants. I blushed and muttered, "thanks." Mark just grinned and winked cheekily, making my face flush even more. He brought the sweatpants to my knees before asking me to stand up which I did. He went to take them up further and started lifting the tshirt before I grabbed his hands. "I think I can do the rest." I said softly, rolling my eyes at Mark's constant dirty flirting. "Worth a try." He remarked, brushing the hair out my face. Once I had gotten the sweatpants on and had gulped down 2 glasses of water and some medicine, I walked back from the hallway to Mark's room, seeing him lying in the bed with his pyjamas on. I yawned and smiled sleepily. "Gonna come join me missy?" He asked, flicking the duvet off to reveal his tartan clad legs and comfy bed. I nodded, dragging myself to the other side of the bed and climbing in before resting next to Mark. He chuckled and lifted me slightly, laying my head down on his chest and wrapping my arm around his waist while he hugged mine. I sighed contently and snuggled into his warming body, letting waves of sleepiness wash over me, lulling me to sleep. Mark turned the bedside light off and kissed the top of my head, whispering, "Night love." I smiled and closed my eyes, drifting off. 

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