#she’s a complicated person with many good sides

[amethysttribble]

Yeah I just figured out why I hate the term Eldest Daughter Syndrome as used commonly on the internet in general, but specifically in fandom-

It’s because it’s always bestowed as a badge of honor, meant to make someone seem meow meow blorbo-able, but the person I know best who actually fucking suffered for that phenomenon didn’t become slightly uwu anxious or a soft people pleaser or the most kind child caretaker ever or so #relatable tired

It made her a cunt

[kamiraaah]

TWST PARENTS! Leech, Draconia and Kingscholar!!

First of all, I must warn you that these designs may change in the future, either because the game presented us with the official designs, or just because I really wanted to change... Or I could reuse these designs for these characters! Given that warning...

Guys, gals, and non-binary pals. I present to you, the Leech, Draconia, and Kingscholar families!

Mr and Mrs Leech attract as much attention as their children, who at first may give off a friendly and calm image... But, they are Floyd and Jade's parents, and they are certainly hiding some things. They are an extremely passionate couple, much to the misfortune of their children (who would rather be anywhere else than witnessing their parents exchanging vows of love). Floyd and his mother have very similar personalities, of course Mrs. Leech knows how to mask her real feelings better than her son. And Jade grew up having a similar personality to his father, who knows very well how to get what he wants and who to manipulate to achieve his goals.

Lady Maleficia, certainly a mysterious and emblematic figure who rarely appears publicly these days… Maybe this has something to do with Meleanor's death? She doesn't seem to make contact with anyone other than Malleus or Lilia (with whom she has a complicated relationship) and the Briar Valley Senators.

King and Queen Kingscholar The royal family has many interesting stories, especially when it comes to the youth of the king and queen and their little adventures before they had their children, Falena and Leona Kingscholar. The king is described by many as a kind leader, but who also tends to be strict… In order to maintain peace in the kingdom. The queen has always been described as a determined and courageous woman. Before being crowned queen, she was part of the royal guard and was considered one of the most powerful warriors in the kingdom. Due to his father's illness, Falena had many responsibilities imposed on him from a very early age, and he often felt insecure and uncertain about his decisions… The good thing is that he often had his mother by his side to help and support him in difficult times. Leona has always been more attached to his mother.

WELL…. IT WAS QUITE A LOT.

And I'm still going to draw pictures of other members of the TWST families, so please bear with me a little… I'm going as fast as I can! I still have some ideas I want to explore with these characters, so maybe you'll see them more often!

I hope you like them!… And as always, share any headcanons you have, I always have fun reading them~

[cipheramnesia]

Hmm, not to detract from the absolutely wild display of racism and transphobia and general out of control bigotry directed at Imane Khelif from the radical feminism peanut gallery or nothing. But and however.

The rush in progressive spaces to attribute characteristics to her, like elevated testosterone and/or being intersex, speaks to a need for better nuance and delicacy on our end. It's complicated because we want to support intersex people against the appalling amount of institutional and general violence and disenfranchisement they experience. And knowing the way hormone levels vary from person is important in understanding how sex and gender aren't nearly as binary as most people assume. The general intentions were good, and shouldn't be discouraged. More like, just that we ought to take a minute to figure out if we know what we're talking about.

Because on the other side of the radfem peanut gallery is rushing in to assume personal information we don't know, but which we accept as contributing to her abilities and appearance. That is to say, there are unexamined racial and intersexist biases underlying the unspoken consensus that her body was somehow uniquely different that it needed to be explained by something other than "this is how people who train extensively for the sport of boxing tend to look."

That doesn't preclude her being intersex or whatnot, only that the foundation of the radfem argument rests on "this woman's appearance is deviant," in ways connecting back to racism and attitudes towards intersex bodies. And when we inadvertently buy into the foundational premise of their bigotry, we also inadvertently perpetuate the inherent bigotry in the assumption, by responding with "that deviant body of a woman of color is intersex."

Anyway, the point I'm trying to get around to here is Imane Khelif looks like a boxer. She's tall and has the kind of muscles a boxer has, regardless of hormones or being intersex or race or anything else. Being intersex comes in many shapes of bodies, the same as perisex bodies. But assuming a body must be intersex because we feel like it confirms deep rooted prejudice about what intersex bodies are is also an expression of that bias.

These things are rife with complications built on centuries of prejudice and systemic oppression, and there will never be a way to talk about it that's simple, perfectly true forever, and easy. It means sometimes we have to take a frustrating amount of time to try and unpack what's happening, and maybe even not say anything at all but probably also try to resist too many epic slams on terfs that are like inadvertently slamming our other disenfranchised groups, basically. I think. I'm not sure I did this very well either. But those undercurrents of bias affect us so like... be mindful and try to be kind.

[natsaffection]

Wait and Hope. Pt 1 | N.R

Warnings: None.

Word count: 7k

A/n: First of Three is here! If you want to know what happens next, you can read the request here.

Natasha entered the apartment she shared with you, her body aching from the day's work. The mission had been long and exhausting, but successful. Yet, as she walked in, she felt the familiar sense of home, the quiet comfort of returning to the one person who made all the chaos worthwhile. She hung her jacket on the hook by the door and took off her boots, sighing in relief as the burden of the day slowly lifted from her. The apartment was quiet, except for the soft hum of the television in the living room.

She found you sitting on the couch, a laptop on your knees, your eyes focused on the screen. The gentle light from the lamp on the side table cast a soft glow on your face, highlighting the thoughtful expression you wore. Natasha watched you for a moment, her heart swelling with love for this woman who had somehow managed to break through all her defenses and become the center of her world. But there was something else, something in the way your brow was furrowed, in the way you were biting your lower lip in concentration. Natasha's instincts, honed by years of reading people, told her that you were deep in thought, perhaps even troubled.

"Hey.." Natasha said softly to announce her presence as she stepped into the room. Your head snapped up, a smile spreading across your face as you saw Natasha standing there. "Hey, you." you replied, closing the laptop slightly, but not entirely. "How was work?"

"The usual.." Natasha said with a shrug, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was on your mind. "Tiring, but we got the job done." She moved closer to the couch, her eyes briefly flicking to the laptop before returning to you. "And you? You look like you’ve been thinking about something."

You hesitated for a moment, your gaze falling on the laptop before you looked back up at Natasha. There was a hint of nervousness, maybe even anticipation, in your eyes. "I've been thinking..about something. Something I wanted to talk to you about." Natasha’s heartbeat quickened slightly. In her line of work, unexpected conversations were rarely a good thing. But this was you, and whatever was on your mind, Natasha knew they could face it together. "What is it?" she asked gently, sitting down beside you on the couch.

You took a deep breath, your fingers tracing the edge of the laptop as you gathered your thoughts. "Do you remember how we joked a while back about what it would be like..to have..kids?" Natasha’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Yeah, I remember. I think I said I’d teach them how to escape from a locked room, and you said you’d make sure they stayed in one place long enough to learn something."

You smiled at the memory, but there was a seriousness in your eyes that told Natasha this wasn’t a casual conversation. "Well..I’ve been thinking a lot about it since then. About what it would be like, I mean. To have a family. To adopt.." Natasha felt a small flutter in her stomach at the mention of adoption. She had spent so many years locking away her feelings, protecting herself from the kind of attachment that could be used against her. But with you, everything was different. You had made her feel things she never thought she could feel..love, vulnerability, hope. And now the thought of expanding her world to include a child or children was both exhilarating and terrifying.

You must have sensed Natasha’s hesitation because you placed your hand on her knee. "I know it’s a lot to think about." you said softly. "And I know you’ve been through things that make this complicated. But..I can’t stop thinking about it, Nat. I want to start a family with you. I’ve looked into adoption agencies, read stories, and..I think we could do it. I think we’d be great parents." Natasha’s heart pounded in her chest as she looked into your eyes, the sincerity, the longing there. She glanced at the laptop, which was only slightly open, and felt a wave of fear mixed with something she wasn’t ready to name yet.

"I..I need time. To think about it." Your expression softened, and you nodded, clearly expecting that she would react this way. "Of course." you said quickly. "I didn’t mean to spring this on you out of nowhere. I just wanted to share what I’ve been thinking about. But I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for." Natasha took a deep breath to steady herself. "It’s not that I don’t want it. I do, more than I ever thought I could. But my past..what if it catches up to us? What if I can’t be the kind of mother a child needs? I don’t want to bring a child into our lives if I’m not sure I can protect them, make them..happy."

Your hand squeezed her knee tighter, your touch warm and reassuring. "Natasha, I’ve seen how you are with kids. You’re great with them. You’re kind, protective, and you have so much love to give. Yes, your past is complicated, but it’s made you who you are today. And who you are today would be an incredible mother." Natasha looked down, her thoughts racing. She knew you were right, she had changed, she had grown, and she had found a kind of peace she never thought possible. But the thought of bringing a child into her life, of being responsible for someone so vulnerable, still filled her with fear.

You seemed to sense Natasha’s internal turmoil, and you gently squeezed her knee again. "You don’t have to decide now." you said quietly. "I just wanted to start the conversation. We can take it one step at a time." Natasha nodded, grateful for your understanding. "Thank you." she whispered. "For being patient with me." You smiled, leaning in to kiss Natasha’s cheek. "Always." you replied. "Why don’t we go get some rest? We can talk more about it later." Natasha nodded again, watching as you headed toward the bedroom. You called out, "Coming?"

"In a while." Natasha replied, watching you walk away. "I just need to unwind a bit first."

"Alright." you called back over your shoulder before disappearing down the hallway. "Don’t stay up too late." Once you were out of sight, Natasha’s gaze drifted back to the laptop on the coffee table. The conversation had unsettled her, her emotions swirling in a confusing mix of fear and curiosity. She knew you were serious about wanting to adopt, and deep down, Natasha couldn’t deny that she had thought about it too..had dreamed about what it would be like to have a family with you.

With a shaky breath, Natasha reached out and opened the laptop, the screen flickering to life. And there they were..children of all ages, some smiling brightly, others with eyes that looked too old for their young faces. Natasha’s heart clenched as she scrolled through the profiles, reading snippets of their stories, their hopes for a family. She tried to keep her emotions in check, to stay detached, but it was impossible. The more she read, the more she felt herself softening, felt the walls she had built around her heart slowly crumbling. There was a boy with a shy smile, a girl with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, and a baby with a tuft of curly hair. Each of them touched something deep inside Natasha, something she had tried so hard to protect.

Before she knew it, tears were stinging her eyes. Natasha quickly wiped them away as if trying to erase the evidence of her feelings. But it was too late. She was already falling in love. She snapped the laptop shut again, her hands trembling as she did so. She felt overwhelmed, torn, but also..something else. Something that suspiciously felt like hope. Natasha took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. This was a big decision, one she needed to talk to you about, one they had to face together. But for the first time, the idea of having a family didn’t feel so terrifying. It felt..possible. Even right.

With that thought, Natasha stood up, taking the laptop with her as she headed to the bedroom. She found you already in bed, your eyes closed, but Natasha knew you weren’t asleep. She set the laptop on the nightstand and quietly slipped under the covers, wrapping her arms around you from behind. You stirred slightly, a smile forming on your lips as you felt Natasha’s embrace.

"Hey.." you murmured sleepily. "Everything okay?" Natasha pressed a kiss to your neck, her heart full of warmth. "Yes." she whispered. "Everything’s okay. I.. think I’m ready to talk about it. About the adoption." Your eyes opened slowly, and you turned slightly to face Natasha, surprise and joy reflecting in your expression. "Really?"

Natasha nodded, her voice soft but firm. "I looked at some of the profiles. And I think, I think we might be ready for this. Together." Your eyes filled with tears, but they were tears of happiness. You reached up and gently cupped Natasha’s cheek before leaning in for a tender, loving kiss. "I knew you’d get there!" you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "We’re going to make a wonderful family, Nat."

Weeks passed, and you found yourselves at the adoption agency. The room was filled with comfortable chairs and soft lighting. You sat side by side, your hands entwined as you waited for your appointment. You squeezed Natasha’s hand, barely containing your excitement, but Natasha could sense the underlying nervousness. This was a big day, and although you had spent weeks discussing and preparing for this moment and now, the reality of it was setting in. You were about to take the first step toward expanding your family, and the weight of that decision was palpable.

A door opened at the other end of the room, and a woman in her mid-forties stepped out, her smile warm and welcoming. She had the kind of presence that put people at ease, her movements calm and deliberate. "Y/n, Natasha?"

Both of you stood up, exchanging a brief glance before you walked toward the woman. "That’s us." you said with a smile, though Natasha could feel your hand tighten slightly around hers. "It’s wonderful to meet you both." the woman said, extending her hand to you. "I’m Rebecca, and I’ll be guiding you through the process today. Why don’t we sit down first and discuss a few things before we take a tour?"

You followed Rebecca into her office, a cozy space filled with pictures of smiling families and framed certificates on the walls. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, adding to the warmth and comfort of the room. Once you were seated, Rebecca leaned forward slightly, her expression gentle but serious. "First of all, I want to thank both of you for being here. The decision to adopt is a huge one, and it’s one that comes with a lot of responsibility, as I’m sure you know. This journey is as much about finding the right addition to your family as it is about giving a child who needs it a loving home."

Natasha nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She had been through a lot in her life, more than most people could imagine, but this felt different. It felt like a step into the unknown, into something that would change both your lives forever. "We understand." you said quietly, your voice calm. "We’ve talked about this a lot, and we’re ready. We want to start a family."

Rebecca smiled, clearly pleased by your determination. "That’s wonderful to hear. Now, I know from your application that you’re primarily interested in adopting a younger child, perhaps a toddler. That’s quite common, especially for first-time adoptive parents. But I want to encourage you to go through this process with an open mind. Sometimes the child that’s meant to be a part of your family isn’t the one you initially imagined."

Natasha and you exchanged a thoughtful glance. You had indeed focused on adopting a younger child, someone you could raise together from the beginning. But both of you nodded in agreement, understanding the importance of what Rebecca was saying. "We’ll keep that in mind." Natasha said, her voice steady but open. Rebecca nodded, satisfied with your response. "Good. If you’re ready, why don’t we take a tour of the facility? You’ll have the opportunity to see some of the children currently living here, and we can discuss any questions you have along the way."

Natasha felt a mixture of anticipation and fear as she stood up to follow Rebecca out of the office. Your hand remained firmly in hers, a silent source of comfort as you walked down the hallway. The facility was bright and welcoming, with colorful artwork on the walls and the occasional burst of laughter echoing from the playrooms. As you passed by one room, Natasha caught a glimpse of a group of younger children playing with blocks, their faces lit up with joy. She felt a tug at her heart as she imagined what it would be like to bring one of these children home, to watch them grow up surrounded by love and security.

But as you continued walking, Natasha noticed something else..a row of doors leading to private rooms, some of them slightly ajar. Through one of these doors, she saw a teenage girl sitting on her bed, her back against the wall, headphones in her ears as she wrote in a notebook. The girl’s posture was relaxed but alert, her eyes focused intently on what she was writing.

Rebecca noticed Natasha’s gaze and paused, glancing into the room. "That’s Lila." she said softly, her voice taking on a gentler tone. "She’s fifteen. She’s been here for about a year." You looked into the room as well, your curiosity piqued. "She seems focused." you remarked, a small smile playing on your lips.

Rebecca nodded. "Lila is incredibly smart, but she’s also been through a lot. She’s had a hard time adjusting, and because of her age, she knows it’s harder to find a family willing to adopt a teenager. Most people are looking for younger children." Natasha felt a pang of sympathy at these words. She knew what it felt like to be unwanted, to be overlooked because of who you were or what you had been through. She could see a spark of that same pain in Lila’s guarded demeanor.

As if sensing she was being watched, Lila looked up from her notebook, her sharp eyes locking onto the group standing in the hallway. Her expression shifted to one of wary annoyance as she quickly assessed the situation. She pulled out one of her earbuds, raising an eyebrow as she looked from Rebecca to you and Natasha. "Let me guess." Lila said, her voice cool and distant. "You’re here to adopt. But I’m not what you’re looking for, am I?"

Natasha was taken aback by the directness in Lila’s words, but she couldn’t help but admire the girl for her honesty. There was a strength in her, a resilience that Natasha recognized, something that spoke to her in a way she hadn’t expected. You, always the more open of the two, stepped forward slightly, your expression gentle. "We’re here to meet everyone." you said softly. "We don’t know what we’re looking for yet."

Lila laughed lightly, though there was a hint of bitterness behind it. "Yeah, well, you’re not the first people to come here looking for a cute little kid. That’s okay. I’m used to it." Natasha felt a protective instinct rise in her chest. She could see that Lila had built walls around herself, the same walls Natasha had spent years constructing. And she knew how exhausting it could be to keep those walls up, always ready to be disappointed.

Without really thinking, Natasha found herself speaking. "You don’t know what we’re looking for." she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "We’re here to meet people, to see if there’s a connection. It’s not about age." Lila blinked, clearly surprised by Natasha’s response. For a moment, her cool facade wavered, a fleeting expression of vulnerability crossing her face. But just as quickly, she straightened up, the walls coming back up.

"Sure.." Lila muttered, "Well, don’t let me keep you from finding your perfect little family." You exchanged a look with Natasha, something unspoken passing between you. There was something about Lila, something that held you both and wouldn’t let go. It wasn’t just her strength or her resilience, it was the way she tried to hide her pain, the way she had already written off the possibility of being chosen, of being loved.

Rebecca then showed you the rooms where younger children played and learned. The sight of toddlers and preschoolers laughing and interacting with each other tugged at your heart, and Natasha could see how your eyes lingered on the small faces. Yet even as you continued the tour, another image kept coming back to Natasha..Lila.

As you walked down another hallway, Rebecca continued speaking, her voice warm and informative. "As I mentioned, we have children of all ages here, from infants to teenagers. Each of them has their own unique story, their own needs and dreams. Finding the right match is more than just a matter of age or background,it’s about connection." Natasha nodded, though her mind was still partly in Lila’s room, replaying the brief but intense encounter. She could still see Lila’s sharp eyes, the way she had tried to protect herself from disappointment, and it gnawed at her.

You seemed to be having similar thoughts. You gave Natasha a thoughtful look before turning back to Rebecca. "How often are older children adopted?" you asked, your voice gentle but tinged with concern. Rebecca’s smile faded slightly, her voice becoming more serious. "Unfortunately, it’s less common. Many prospective parents are looking for younger children, hoping to start from the beginning, so to speak. Teenagers, especially those who have been in the system for a while, often have a harder time finding a family. But that doesn’t mean they don’t find families, it just takes the right people, people who are willing to look beyond age."

You exchanged another glance with Natasha, a silent conversation happening between you. Natasha could see the question in your eyes, could they be those people? But you continued the tour, following Rebecca as she led you through the rest of the facility. You met several more children, young, energetic, full of life and potential. A toddler with big, curious eyes reached for your finger and let out a giggle, and Natasha could see your heart melt in that moment. Natasha herself felt drawn to a little boy who proudly showed off his block tower, his face beaming as Natasha knelt down to admire it.

Yet throughout it all, Lila’s image kept returning to Natasha’s thoughts. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something special about the girl, something that had spoken to her in a way she hadn’t expected. Finally, the tour ended, and Rebecca led you back to her office, where you sat down to discuss what you had seen and felt. Natasha and you sat, each of you lost in your own thoughts, as Rebecca began speaking again.

"I know this process can be overwhelming." Rebecca said kindly, her eyes moving between you and Natasha. "There’s a lot to consider, and it’s okay if you’re not sure yet about what you want. The most important thing is to take your time and think about what feels right for both of you." You nodded, though Natasha could see the uncertainty in your eyes. "We definitely have a lot to talk about.." you said softly.

Rebecca smiled reassuringly. "That’s completely normal. This is a big decision, and it’s important that you both feel confident in your choice. If you have any questions or if you’d like to meet any of the children again, just let me know." After a few more minutes of conversation, you and Natasha thanked Rebecca for her time and made your way out of the building. The drive home was quiet, both of you lost in your thoughts as you tried to process everything you had seen and felt during the visit.

When you finally arrived home, you placed your handbag on the kitchen counter and turned to Natasha, your expression serious but open. "So..what do you think?" you asked gently. Natasha took a deep breath and leaned against the counter, gathering her thoughts. "I don’t know." she admitted. "I mean, all the kids we met today were wonderful. But..I can’t stop thinking about Lila."

Your eyes softened, and you nodded, as if you had expected this. "I can’t stop thinking about her either." you said quietly. "There was just something about her, wasn’t there? She was so guarded, but there was so much..depth there. So much potential." Natasha looked down at the floor, her thoughts racing with the implications of what you were considering. "She’s older than we originally thought we wanted.." she said thoughtfully. "But I don’t know..maybe that doesn’t matter as much as we thought."

You stepped closer, placing a hand on Natasha’s arm. "Nat, I saw the way you looked at her." you said softly. "And I know you saw how much she’s been through. We could be the ones to help her, to give her the love and stability she needs." Natasha looked into your eyes, searching for any hesitation, any doubt. But all she saw was the same love and hope that had always been there, the same belief that you could do this together.

"What if we’re not enough for her?" Natasha asked, her voice tinged with worry. "What if she needs more than we can give?" You shook your head gently, your gaze steady. "We’ll figure it out." you said with quiet confidence. "We’re not perfect, and we’ll make mistakes, but we have so much love to give, Nat. And maybe..maybe that’s exactly what she needs. Someone who won’t give up on her." Natasha felt a surge of emotion at your words, her heart swelling with a mixture of fear and hope. She knew this was a big decision, one that would change their lives forever. But she also knew that she might regret it if she didn’t take this chance.

"Okay." Natasha finally said, her voice firm but soft. "Let’s do it. Let’s start the process to adopt her." Your eyes filled with tears of joy, and you pulled Natasha into a tight embrace, your heart pounding with excitement about what lay ahead. "Thank you, Nat.." you whispered against Natasha’s shoulder. "I know this isn’t easy, but I really believe it’s the right thing to do." Natasha held you close, feeling the warmth of your love and the strength of your bond. "We’ll do this together." Natasha said quietly. "We’ll be her family."

Natasha and you returned to the adoption agency, your hearts pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. The familiar hallways, which had seemed so intimidating on your first visit, now felt purposeful. You had made your decision. You were ready to adopt Lila.

Rebecca greeted you with her usual warm smile, but there was a slight hesitation in her eyes as she offered you seats. "Natasha, Y/n, it’s good to see you both again!" she began, her voice as friendly as ever. "I understand that you’ve given this decision a lot of thought." You nodded, holding Natasha’s hand tightly under the table. "Yes, we have." you said, your voice firm. "We’ve thought about it a lot, and we both feel that Lila is the one we’d like to adopt."

Rebecca’s smile widened, but there was still a hint of something in her expression..something that made Natasha’s instincts prick up. "I’m so happy to hear that." Rebecca said, "Lila is a wonderful young woman, and I believe she would thrive in a home like yours. But before we proceed, there’s something important we need to discuss." Natasha and you exchanged a glance, a flicker of concern passing between you. "What is it?" Natasha asked cautiously.

Rebecca took a deep breath and clasped her hands on the desk in front of her. "Lila has two younger siblings." she explained gently. "A brother, Jacob, who is 10, and a sister, Mia, who is 6. They’ve been in the system together for a while now, and it’s been difficult to find a placement that can take all three." The words hung in the air like a bombshell. Natasha and you both blinked in surprise, the realization slowly sinking in. Three children? You had prepared yourselves to adopt one, maybe two if the situation called for it, but three? The thought was overwhelming, almost paralyzing.

"Three..children?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. You looked at Natasha, your eyes wide with shock. "We..we didn’t know." Rebecca nodded sympathetically. "I know it’s a lot to take in, and I want to assure you that there’s no pressure to make a decision right away. But I wanted to be honest with you because it’s something we try to avoid whenever possible, separating siblings. Lila, Jacob, and Mia have been through a lot together, and they’re very close. They rely on each other." Natasha felt her heart racing, her thoughts swirling with the consequences. Three children. It was more than you had planned for, more than you had prepared yourselves to handle. But at the same time, she couldn’t shake the image of Lila, how she had looked at them with that mix of hope and skepticism, how she had seemed so strong yet so vulnerable.

And now there were two more faces she had to imagine. Jacob and Mia, both younger, both searching for the same love and stability that Lila needed. Your hand squeezed Natasha’s tighter, and Natasha could see the conflict in your eyes, the same conflict she felt in her own heart. But she also saw something else: a determination, a belief that together, they could make this work.

"Can we meet them?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly but filled with resolve. "Jacob and Mia, I mean. Can we meet them before we make a decision?" Rebecca’s expression softened, and she nodded. "Of course. I think that would be a very good idea." A short time later, Natasha and you found yourselves back in the familiar hallway, but this time with a different kind of anticipation. Rebecca led you to a playroom, where Lila sat on the floor reading a book. Beside her were two younger children, a boy and a girl, both quietly playing with some building blocks.

As soon as Lila saw Natasha and you, her expression shifted to one of surprise, followed by a cautious look. But there was also something else, an underlying hope that she couldn’t quite hide. "Lila, these are the people I told you about." Rebecca said softly. "Natasha and Y/n. They wanted to meet Jacob and Mia." Lila’s eyes moved from Rebecca to Natasha and you, as if trying to understand what this meant. The younger children looked up from their play, curiosity shining in their eyes. The boy, Jacob, had a serious expression, much like Lila’s, while the little girl, Mia, had large, innocent eyes that mirrored her brother’s.

Natasha felt her heart skip a beat as she looked at the children and the reality of the situation sank in. These were Lila’s siblings..part of the package you hadn’t expected, but couldn’t ignore. And as she watched Jacob and Mia interact with Lila, the bond between them was undeniable. You knelt down to their level, your voice gentle and warm. "Hi, Jacob. Hi, Mia. I’m Y/n, and this is Natasha. We’ve been talking to your sister Lila."

Jacob looked at you with a mix of curiosity and caution, but he didn’t say anything. Mia, on the other hand, gave you a small, shy smile. "Hi!" Natasha felt an unexpected wave of affection for both of them, but she also felt the weight of the decision they were facing. It was no longer just about Lila, no it was about all three of them, about creating a family in a way that was bigger and more complex than they had ever imagined. Lila, who had been watching the exchange in silence, finally spoke, her voice cautious. "You wanted to adopt a younger child, didn’t you? Not three. It’s okay. I get it."

The statement hit Natasha and you hard, and Natasha felt a pang of guilt at the truth in Lila’s words. But there was also something else, a determination that had been growing since your first meeting with Lila. "We came here thinking we knew what we wanted." Natasha began, her voice steady but thoughtful. "But things change. People change. We didn’t expect to meet someone like you, Lila. And we didn’t know about Jacob and Mia. But now that we’ve met all of you..we need to think about what feels right."

You nodded, your eyes full of sincerity. "We don’t want to make promises we can’t keep." you said softly. "But we also don’t want to walk away from something that could be really special. We just need..a little time to talk it over." Lila’s expression softened slightly, though she still looked unsure, as if she couldn’t fully believe what she was hearing. "Okay." she said quietly, her voice uncertain.

Rebecca stepped in, her voice gentle. "Why don’t you take some time to think about it? You’ve been through a lot today, and I know this is a big decision. Take as much time as you need." Natasha and you nodded, your minds and hearts swirling with emotions as you left the playroom. The drive home was quiet, each of you lost in your own thoughts. It wasn’t until you were back in the familiar comfort of your living room, the weight of the day still heavy on your shoulders, that you finally broke the silence.

"Three children, Nat." you said, your voice trembling slightly. "I don’t know if we’re ready for that. But at the same time..I can’t imagine leaving them there. They’re already a family. I don’t want to break that up." Natasha sat down beside you, her heart heavy with the gravity of the situation. "It’s a lot." she admitted. "More than we planned for. But I can’t stop thinking about them either. Lila..she’s strong, but she’s been through so much. And Jacob and Mia need stability, they need someone to show them that they’re not alone."

You looked at Natasha, your eyes searching for answers, for reassurance. "Do you think we can do this?" you asked, your voice filled with hope and fear. "Do you think we can really be the parents they need?" Natasha reached for your hand, her voice filled with quiet determination. "I think we can try." she said softly. "It won’t be easy, and there will be challenges we haven’t even thought of yet. But I think..I think this might be the family we’re meant to have."

Your eyes filled with tears, but you nodded, your grip on Natasha’s hand tightening. "I don’t want to walk away from them." you whispered. "I think we can do this, Nat. Really." Natasha pulled you into a tight embrace, solidifying the decision in her heart. "Then let’s do it." she murmured. "Let’s bring them home."

The drive back to the adoption agency weeks later was filled with a quiet determination. You and Natasha had spent the last days talking, weighing the pros and cons, but in the end, your hearts had guided you to a decision. You were ready to take on this challenge together. As you entered Rebecca’s office once more, there was a sense of resolution between you. Rebecca greeted you with her usual warmth, but there was an added depth to her smile as she sensed the shift in your demeanor.

"Rebecca." Natasha began, her voice steady, "we’ve thought about it, and we want to move forward with the adoption. We want to adopt all three. Lila, Jacob, and Mia." Rebecca’s smile widened, her eyes reflecting both surprise and joy. "That’s wonderful news!" she said, her voice full of genuine happiness. "I know this is a big decision, but I truly believe you’re going to make a great family." The process that followed was a whirlwind of paperwork, meetings, and preparations. Rebecca guided you through every step, ensuring that you felt supported and informed. The more you learned about Lila, Jacob, and Mia, the more certain you became that this was the right decision.

The day finally came when you would bring the children home. As you pulled up to the adoption agency, there was a mix of excitement and nervousness in the air. Natasha glanced at you, her hand resting on the gearshift. "Are you ready?" she asked softly. You nodded, though Natasha could see the nervous energy in your eyes. "I’m ready." you replied, your voice steady but full of emotion. "Let’s bring them home."

When you entered the agency, Rebecca greeted you with a warm smile, but it was Lila, Jacob, and Mia who drew your attention. They stood together, holding hands, their small bags at their feet. Lila looked nervous but hopeful, Jacob’s serious expression was tinged with curiosity, and Mia clung to her sister’s hand, her wide eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. Natasha crouched down to their level, offering them a gentle smile. "Are you all ready to go home?" she asked, her voice soft.

Lila nodded, her grip on her siblings’ hands tightening. "Yeah.." she said quietly, though there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice. Mia looked up at Lila, then at you and Natasha, before nodding as well. Jacob remained quiet but gave a small nod of agreement.

"Okay." you said gently, "let’s go." The drive home was quiet, the children sitting in the backseat, their expressions a mix of anticipation and nerves. Natasha kept glancing in the rearview mirror, watching them closely. She could feel the weight of the moment, the beginning of something new and beautiful, but also challenging and uncertain.

When you finally arrived at the house, Natasha parked the car, and the two of you turned to face the children. "Welcome home." you said softly, your voice filled with emotion.

Mia pressed her face against the window, her small hands leaving prints on the glass as she took in the sight of the house. "It’s big...." she whispered in awe. Jacob looked at Lila, who nodded slightly, giving him the courage to unbuckle his seatbelt. "Let’s go." Lila said quietly, leading her siblings out of the car. You and Natasha helped them with their bags, and as you approached the front door, Natasha handed the key to Mia. "Would you like to do the honors?" she asked with a smile.

Mia looked up at Natasha with wide eyes before carefully taking the key. She hesitated for a moment, then looked back at Lila and Jacob, who gave her encouraging smiles. With a deep breath, Mia stepped forward and unlocked the door. As the door swung open, the children were greeted by the warmth and coziness of their new home. The living room was inviting, with a large, comfortable couch and shelves filled with books and photos. The kitchen was bright and welcoming, with a small table already set with snacks and drinks.

"This is your home now." you said gently, your voice full of warmth. "You can make it your own." Mia was the first to move, her small hand slipping into Jacob’s as she led him toward the living room. Jacob followed, his eyes still wide with curiosity. Lila hesitated at the door, her expression cautious but with a glimmer of hope.

Natasha and you exchanged a look, understanding that this was just the beginning. The children would need time to adjust, to feel safe and secure in this new environment. It wouldn’t be easy, but you were committed to making it work. "Would you like a tour?" you suggested, your voice bright with encouragement. "We can show you your rooms and where everything is."

Mia, who was always the most enthusiastic, nodded eagerly. "Yes, please!" she said, her voice full of excitement. Natasha led the way, guiding them through the house. She showed them the kitchen, where they would eat together, the living room, where they could watch movies and play games, and the small study, which had already been transformed into a cozy nook for reading and quiet moments. Finally, they reached the bedrooms. You and Natasha had spent hours decorating each room based on what you had learned about the children during your visits. Mia's room was done in soft colors, with a bed covered in stuffed animals, Jacob's room had shelves for his books and toys, and Lila's room was decorated with a mix of bold, vibrant colors that reflected her independent spirit.

Mia was the first to run into her room, her eyes lighting up as she saw the array of stuffed animals on her bed. "Look!" she cried out happily, turning to you. "They're so cute!" You smiled, your heart swelling with happiness at Mia's joy. "I'm glad you like them, sweetheart." Jacob walked slowly into his room, his fingers gliding over the shelves lining the walls. He seemed a little overwhelmed, but in a good way, as if he could hardly believe this was real. "This is...really nice." he said quietly, looking up at Natasha with a shy smile. Natasha returned the smile, her heart warming at the sight of Jacob's tentative happiness. "It's all yours, Jacob." she said gently. "You can arrange it however you like."

Lila was the last to enter her room, her steps slow and cautious. She stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the space that had been prepared for her. The bold colors on the walls, the comfortable bed, the desk by the window, everything was so different from what she was used to. She walked over to the desk, running her hand over the surface, her expression difficult to read. "It's your space, Lila." you said softly as you stepped into the room behind her. "We want you to feel at home here."

Lila turned to you, her eyes filled with mixed emotions..gratitude, uncertainty, and a hint of vulnerability. "Thank you." she said quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. You smiled and placed a comforting hand on Lila's shoulder. "We're glad you're here." you said gently. "All of you." As the day turned into evening, the house gradually filled with the sounds of life. You and Natasha prepared dinner, a simple yet comforting meal of pasta and salad. The children sat at the table, still a bit hesitant, but slowly beginning to relax. Mia chattered excitedly about her new room, while Jacob quietly observed, taking everything in.

Lila, as expected, was more reserved, but she engaged in the conversation, her responses growing longer and more sincere as the evening went on. Natasha couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as she watched her new family begin to come together, each moment a small step towards building the bond they all longed for. After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room for a movie. Natasha let the kids choose, and they finally settled on a family-friendly animated film. Mia cuddled up next to Natasha on the couch, resting her head on her shoulder, while Jacob sat between the two of you, his attention fully focused on the screen.

Lila sat in an armchair, slightly apart from the group, but Natasha noticed how she occasionally glanced over at you all, as if slowly allowing herself to become part of this new dynamic. Natasha caught her gaze and offered a small, reassuring smile, which Lila returned with a hesitant yet genuine one. As the movie played, Natasha felt a deep sense of contentment wash over her. This was her family now. Imperfect, still finding its way, but full of potential and love.

When the movie ended, you suggested it was time for bed, and the children reluctantly agreed, their excitement finally giving way to the exhaustion of the eventful day. You and Natasha helped them settle into their rooms, giving each of them goodnight hugs and words of reassurance. Mia clung to Natasha a little longer than the others, her small arms wrapped tightly around her neck. "Good night..." she whispered, her voice filled with contentment.

Your heart melted at her words. "Good night, sweetheart." you replied, kissing Mia's forehead. "We'll see you in the morning." As you and Natasha retreated to your own room, you finally allowed yourselves to relax, the weight of the day lifting as you climbed into bed together. Natasha pulled you close, holding you tight as you lay together in the quiet darkness.

"We did it." you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "We brought them home." Natasha smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple. "Yes." she murmured. "We did. And we're going to make it, Y/n. I know we will." You nodded, your eyes closing as you nestled closer to Natasha. "I love you." you whispered, your voice full of warmth.

"I love you too."

[loafgeto]

ᝬ 𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⤵︎

toji fushiguro x fem!reader

synopsis: you’re getting your first apartment with your own money, but there has been a complication with the housing and you were accidentally roomed with a stranger.

cw: fem!reader, 18+ mdni, explicit language, age gap (reader is 22, while toji is 30), she/her pronouns, big dick toji, masturbation, teasing, dirty talk, size kink, fingering, squirting, orgasming, unprotected sex, oral sex (m. receiving), slight breast play, pet names (pretty/good girl, sweetheart, princess). if i miss anything lmk. NOT proofread, ignore typos

wc: 6.4k (DIDNT KNOW I WROTE THIS MUCH LMFAOO)

a/n: uh if you guys see me use “princess” so much then like don’t mind me cuz i love the pet name and toji seems to suit saying it too. anyways, contemplating on what to write next 😟

After graduating university and acquiring your dream job, you were finally able to buy your own apartment with your savings from countless overworking shifts and paychecks. To say the least, all of the exhaustion and frustration was definitely worth it.

Today was the day you’d get your keys, and officially move in your things. The apartment consisted of a single bedroom, one bathroom, a kitchen and a personal laundry area— all suitable for one person. When you first toured the building, you instantly fell in love and knew it was going to be your place of living for a while. So, you signed the paperwork and officially got the place.

You arrived at your apartment that afternoon, the feeling of excitement flowing through your veins. The neighborhood was relatively welcoming and safe, and there were many amenities surrounding the area, making it easily accessible.

As you were walking to the main office to retrieve your keys, your attention was primarily directed to the nature around you, along with the lively kids running around at the playground and other residents walking by, greeting you with smiles and quick hellos.

After settling in, you planned to get yourself a pet— whether it be a dog or cat, or both. You wanted some company at least.

When you arrived at the main office, you were greeted by a timid young man. “Hello there! Good afternoon. How may I help you today?” he questions when you approach the desk.

“Hello! I’m here to pick up my keys to my apartment. I just moved into the neighborhood,” you reply with a smile.

“Of course, may I have your name?” the male continues to inquire and you give him your information before he goes into the back. He returns shortly afterwards with a key and a piece of paper. “Here are your keys! If you have any concerns or questions please come back here.”

“Thank you so much,” you give the young man a final smile before you took the keys into your own hands. You were way beyond excited now and quickly left the main office to return to your car which was parked right by your apartment.

The movers would arrive that evening, so you were able to use some hours to adjust to the new place— or even buy some groceries since you already had a fridge installed— or figure out how to decorate the entire apartment. There were many options for you to choose, but you decided to pick whenever you got there.

At the same time, you couldn’t help but wonder who your neighbors would be. Would they be welcoming and respectful? Or rude and impolite? Even if they weren’t the best people, you’d hope to at least get on their good side so there’d be no issues.

You arrived at your apartment’s door minutes later, thrilled to unlock it and step inside, getting a whiff of the new life ahead of you. APARTMENT D, 404. Inserting the keys into the key hole, you twist and unlock the door before pushing the door open.

Of course, this apartment was only suitable for at least one person and if a couple were to move in together, they’d have to work together on the space. So, is someone going to tell you why a man is standing right ahead of you— drenched in shower water and only in a towel that’s wrapped around his hips?

Your mouth dropped, eyes observing how defined and muscular his entire body was, but that wasn’t the point. Clearly, you stepped into the wrong apartment. Right?

“O-Oh- I’m so sorry! I think I accidentally went into the wrong apartment!” you could feel blood rush to your cheeks due to embarrassment and you quickly avoid gazes with him. You were confused, you knew this was your apartment— your keys, the slip and signed papers could prove it all.

So why—

“You’re Y/n?” the male questions, clearly unaffected by the situation.

“Huh? Oh- yeah! Yes, I’m Y/n!” you reply, giving him a nod as you finally turn to him. Gosh, what is happening? “I-I’m so sorry once again, I probably got my keys mixed up or something—“

“You didn’t,” the male intervenes, now approaching closer to you.

“Excuse me?”

“We’re goin’ to be roommates for a while, until they get the housing shit sorted out. You heard, didn’t you?” he questions, tilting his head, as if you were already aware of this situation.

“Huh? Roommates?” your eyes widen, mouth dropping once again. From what you can recall, no one and nothing has mentioned about you getting a roommate— let alone it being a guy!

“Oh, guess not then,” the male awkwardly rubs the back of his neck with his hand, finally understanding that you had no knowledge about this whatsoever. “Let’s introduce each other first then. Toji Fushiguro, nice to meet you, sweetheart. We’ll be roommates for a week or so.”

“Wh-What? Okay, I did not pay and sign the papers for this!” you raise your voice and Toji only shrugs.

“Complain to them. Not me.”

And you did. After Toji dressed himself in proper clothes, you dragged him with you back to the main office. It was natural for someone to be infuriated and confused with this matter, but you couldn’t believe it was happening to you.

You always check your messages and emails, even from accounts you barely ever use, and you swore you never detected anything that would relate to having a complete stranger living with you in your new apartment. There were no letters or calls from the management of the apartment complex either, so you were still confused on why this was happening.

“We’re very sorry for the inconvenience, miss Y/n and mister Toji,” the manager who you called just moments ago bows his head down, apologizing to you. “There was several problems with the housing situation and we are trying to sort it out. There are several movers who have this problem so please don’t worry about being the only ones!”

“That’s not that I’m concerned about here,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Y-Yes, of course. Please, we are still situating the problem and are doing the best we can. Please allow us a week and a half or so to solve the issue. We will report back to you both by then. We hope you understand,” the manager continues, keeping his head lowered.

You were about to reply when Toji presses a hand on your shoulder, intervening the conversation. “She understands. Thank you for your time,” he says, beginning to dismiss the two of you out before you could even utter anything.

“Hey! Don’t you think you’re being too calm with the situation?!” you stop and turn to him as he removes his hand away from your shoulder when you both step outside.

Toji shrugs, not returning a glance as he kept walking forward. “Don’t you think you’re being too dramatic over this? You heard them, they’re sorting it out. It’s just gonna be a week, sweetheart. If you got a problem, stay somewhere else until then.”

“What?!” your eyes follow him before your legs moved to catch up to his side. “First of all— don’t call me sweetheart. Second, of course I’m going to be pissed about this because I did not pay for this! Third, I have no where else to go and I can’t just crash at a friend’s with all of my things?!”

“Mistakes happen,” Toji says, now looking at you. “And well, if you have no where else to go— then deal with it, for a week. Sweetheart.”

Toji smiles before heading back to the apartment, leaving you even more infuriated. No matter what, you’re going to avoid this man until he finally gets moved somewhere else.

Or so you thought.

After your movers brought in your things, Toji made you pile your boxes into a corner for the time being— since there was no need to decorate the place at the moment. You figured and complied, not wanting to argue with this man.

For some reason, your mattress didn’t end up arriving with the rest of your belongings, so you had to sleep on your futon— beside of Toji’s. Of course, you wanted to sleep in the farthest corner away from him, but he insisted he wasn’t going to do anything.

Toji kept to himself, rarely trying to make some sort of conversation with you, but it wasn’t like you were complaining. He normally spent his attention on his phone, as if he was messaging someone or whatever. He’d randomly laugh or say something when it’d be quiet, catching you off guard.

You never said anything and plugged your earbuds into your ear, trying to avoid him at all cost. Closing your eyes, you just told yourself over and over again that this was only for a week or so. And then soon, you’ll never have to encounter him as much anymore.

As night fell, you suddenly felt the urge to eat. You had completely forgotten about grocery shopping and there wasn’t any open stores you could go to. You figured a quick stop at the convenience store would help, and decided to go there instead for something to eat.

You slip on your jacket and grab your wallet and phone. You hadn’t realize Toji was in the kitchen, doing something until you stepped in, watching as he was waiting for the pot of water to boil.

Toji noticed you from the corner of his eyes, and he turns, giving you a placid expression. “What?”

“Oh.. nothing. I’m just going to the convenience store since there’s no food for me here,” you reply to him before walking past him to the front door.

“Want me to come with?” Toji’s offer slightly appalls you and you turn back around to face him as you slip on your shoes. You’re uncertain, and Toji could notice that. “It’s late, wouldn’t want a young woman like you to get hurt, y’know.”

“It’s.. fine,” you say, with a little grin before turning back around, fondling with your keys. “Besides, you already seen occupied yourself.”

Toji didn’t respond for a moment, and when you were about to turn around again, he was suddenly behind you. Surprised, you nearly had a heart attack because how swift he was getting ready to accompany you out.

“Let’s go,” Toji says, already dressed in a jacket with shoes on. You give him a blank stare, but you didn’t say anything as you both exit the apartment.

Toji stood behind of you as you both walked to the nearest convenience store down the street. It was silent between the two of you— the only noise being distant cars, crickets chirping, and the soft sounds of your footsteps. Not only that, it was quite cooler in the night, which made you cuddle yourself beneath your jacket.

You didn’t once turn around to look at Toji, and even if you wanted to, you didn’t want to seem weird for just looking at him and not saying anything. He’d probably expected you to start a conversation or even inquire why you were randomly looking at him. You were overthinking at that moment, but for a fact, you were sort of glad Toji accompanied you.

The two of you arrived at the convenience store shortly enough and you went to grab a basket for your items. You figured Toji would do the same and go separate directions, but you quickly noticed that he was following you around instead.

You figured this could be a time to start a conversation. “Well. Is there anything you want? You can just put it in the basket and I can buy it for you,” you say, offering as a reward of gratitude since he had accompanied you.

“Nah. I’m fine,” Toji declines.

“Are you sure?” you repeat, and he nods his head, assuring you that he didn’t necessarily need anything to eat.

But even if Toji said he didn’t want anything, you decided to get him something. You found yourself getting a lot of food due to that and you felt slightly embarrassed, thinking that Toji probably thought you were odd for getting that much food for a night.

After paying the items and walking back to the apartment, you just couldn’t help but begin to feel curious about Toji— even after planning to deliberately avoid him the entire week or so. He was just an individual that you’ve never necessarily encountered before.

You didn’t know what made him stand out from other people, but there was definitely something about him. And so, you decide to start a conversation again.

“So. Toji,” you say, turning your head around since he was walking behind you again. His eyes raise to meet yours and he tilts his head. “Since we are going to be living with each other for a week.. shouldn’t we get to know each other.”

“Thought you hated me,” Toji smiles.

“What? No! I never said that! Yes, I was rude to you earlier but I was just upset at the housing situation since I didn’t expect it.. or even heard about it until today,” you sigh, feeling blood rush to your cheeks. “Well. Anyways. Let’s start with the basics— how old are you or whatever.”

“Hm,” Toji hums, eyes observing your face. “I’m 30”

“Oh, wow. You’re 8 years older than me,” you reply, nodding your head. Well, you honestly thought he was younger, but the age made sense due to his appearance. His built was great too. “I’m 22.”

“Fresh out of college, huh?”

“Yes.. technically. Almost been half a year since I graduated,” you nod your head. Okay, this conversation was going better than expected. “Did you go to university, Toji?”

“Nah. Waste of time and money. I left from home when I was 18,” Toji answers and your eyes slightly widen from the unexpected response. Well, you definitely didn’t think of that possibility at all.

“Oh..” you nod, wondering what to inquire next before it became silently awkward again.

“What did you study in college?” Toji then asked.

“I studied in business! It’s a common major but it’ll get me around. I found a good job during my third year of college and took an internship. And after graduating, they officially hired me,” you reply to his question, giving him a smile. Toji didn’t seem like a bad person at all.

“Young ones like you make me regret not going to college,” Toji chuckles softly as he was now walking next to you.

“Well, you can still go to college. There’s no age limit at all. You’re still young too, you know. I met some people in their late 40’s who are attending university,” you comment, hoping that would give him some consideration if he actually still wanted to attend.

Toji only gives you a glance before turning his head to look ahead. “I’ll think about it.”

The two of you finally arrived back at the apartment. You felt extremely relieved about the conversation you just had with Toji and figured you could actually end up being friends with him.

From that moment, the two of you detected another couple as you both approached the door leading to the apartment. They lived next door, the woman was patiently waiting for her partner to open the door as they spoke.

“Oh! This couple must be our new neighbors, dear!” the woman says and gently taps her husband’s shoulder, causing him to look in the direction of you and Toji.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you both,” you and Toji bow your heads. “And we’re not—“

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both! We heard we were getting new neighbors but I wasn’t sure when we would be able to properly meet,” the man quickly spoke before you could add that you and Toji weren’t a couple.

“Yes, yes. It’s nice to know that we aren’t the only couples living here— since this apartment complex is a single room and the rest are two person or above friendly,” the woman giggles. “Oh! How about we have a dinner tonight?!”

“Thank you but we—“ you start again, but Toji interrupts.

“I apologize, not tonight. We still have a lot of things to unpack. Maybe another night,” Toji says, placing a hand on your shoulder before pulling you close. “Plus, she’s very tired and we wouldn’t want to bother the two of you.”

“Oh dear, no, it’s fine! Another time then,” the woman nods with a reassuring smile.

“Well then, we can talk about dinner plans whenever,” her husband says before opening the door to their home.

After chatting a few more times and introducing each other with names, the woman gives you and Toji one last smile. “By the way, the walls here are very thin. Try not to get a noise complaint from the single person’s living around here!”

And then, she gives you two a wave before following her husband inside. You and Toji remain silent, processing what she meant, until it hit you.

You quickly went into the apartment without saying anything to Toji and he follows behind, closing the door as you placed the bag of food on the kitchen counter.

“Anyways. Let’s eat!” you say, turning to Toji who appears absolutely unaffected by what just happened. He gives you a look before you add on. “Oh, I bought enough food for the two of us, so you might as well eat some with me.”

There was a table in the small room you and Toji shared, so the two of you gathered there. You begin assembling the food across the table as Toji sat across from you.

“Oh, so that’s why you bought a lot,” Toji comments.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want you to just watch me eat everything if you’re hungry. That’d be rude,” you reply, placing a set of chopsticks ahead of him. “And besides, take it as a thank you for accompanying me to the convenience store.”

“If you insist,” Toji says with a smile as he lifts the chopsticks in his hands.

The two of you began eating, in silence once again. There really wasn’t much to inquire about, and even if there was, you don’t want to pry into Toji’s personal space too much.

And eventually, the quick dinner ended and the two of you cleaned up the table and threw any trash and store leftovers. You figured it was a good start to living with Toji for a week, and maybe there would be better options tomorrow.

While Toji was in the bathroom, you were sitting on your futon in the corner and had your back against the wall. You were scrolling through your phone, whether it be from messages to posts on social media, you were just bored and wasn’t feeling tired at all.

You changed into a shirt and sleeping shorts before wrapping a warm blanket around your body. You remained on your phone for a while, until you began hearing noises from the other side of the wall your back was against.

From what you could gather, it was the couple you and Toji met earlier. They seemed to be talking and moving around, muffled noises would follow after. You figured they must be rearranging something, since you recalled to the woman saying how thin the wall was.

You began hearing shuffling noises right by you, as if their bed was directly next to the wall on the other side. You blink several times, beginning to avoid what they were doing.

After several moments, you began hearing soft moans of the woman, which caught you off guard and flustered. The lewd noises were consistent, and she kept saying her husband’s name with such affection. They were fucking, literally, right by the other side of the wall.

You remain flustered, as you continued listening to them. You could’ve honestly just put in your earbuds and blast loud music to avoid listening further, but you couldn’t stop yourself. It was slowly turning you on.

The imagination of having your neighbors being able to hear you and someone fucking turned you on. You were completely lost in your thoughts as your breathing became heavier and you slipped one hand down between your thighs.

You pressed your ear against the wall, hearing the moans and grunts become louder by the minute. You bite your lower up, refraining from making any noise as you push your hands beneath your short and under your panties.

Your middle finger began rubbing circles against your clit, before gliding down your folds that were beginning to become soaked with your arousal. Fuck. This was a very risky situation, given the fact that Toji was still around and could leave the bathroom any moment.

But by then, you didn’t even think about him. You kept your attention on pleasuring yourself and the sex on the other side of the wall. Honestly, you wanted nothing more but to be fucked just like that. After you previous relationship, you hadn’t gotten with anyone and it’s been at least over a year.

You push two of your fingers into your dripping cunt, curling them up and moving them in and out. You started to let out low moans while biting down your lip, refraining them to be louder. Shit.. you’d never thought you could be turned on like this.

Pushing your thighs further apart, you sink your fingers deeper into your pussy, your arousal beginning to stick on your knuckles as you thrust them in and out. You take them out, rubbing your clit once again with your wet fingers before pushing them back in your hole.

Your neighbors continued to fuck, the woman’s moans bouncing off the walls and resonating your quiet room. But it all came to a stop when you heard the bathroom door opening, causing you to panic and quickly pull your hands away.

You were so close to being caught.

Toji walks into the room, towel over his shoulder as his eyes directed to you. He was slightly confused, noticing how flustered you were. “You okay there?” he questions.

“I-I’m fine,” you stutter, realizing that the neighbor’s noises were still very much detectable.

Toji definitely heard them already, but he hadn’t address it yet. The room fell silent as the neighbors moans begin to become heard once again, and the awkwardness between you and Toji arose.

“They’re not too loud,” Toji finally comments with a sly grin.

“You think?” you raise a brow, keeping your eyes away from his. Your body was beginning to become hotter, mostly due to the embarrassment of almost being caught.

“Why are you so flustered?” Toji inquired as he starts walking closer to you.

“I’m not! I’m just— surprised!” you try to make some sort of excuse as you kept avoiding his gaze. Toji stood ahead of you before kneeling down to your level. You clear your throat, turning your head slightly and locking eyes with him.

Toji’s grin becomes wider. “You turned on or something?”

“Excuse me? I’m-“ you start but Toji was quick to hush you by leaning closer to your face, one of his hands pressing against the wall beside of your face.

“Come on. Listen to them. Aren’t you imagining and wishing it was happening to you instead?” Toji starts to tease you, his smile becoming more mischievous as your face grows even more timid.

“Please.. stop..” you turn your head away from him. It didn’t help that Toji was so close to you. It was true, you were still turned on, but you definitely didn’t want to admit it.

“Well, we’re going to be listening to them all night then,” Toji says, about to turn away when you grab his hand. He looks at you, quite surprised with your actions but he didn’t stop you. He only chuckles before leaning closer to your face again. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Can’t use words to admit that you’re turned on?”

You only shake your head, glancing at him several times and then at another direction. It was embarrassing, but Toji found it amusing.

“No need to be embarrassed,” Toji says, grasping his hand around your wrist and pulls you towards him. You were surprised but didn’t restrain as Toji presses you down on your futon. “Normally I’d get paid to do this. But you’ll be an exception.”

“People pay you to fuck them?”

“Some of the time. I follow the request of anyone in order to get money. It’s how I was able to get one of these apartments in the first place,” Toji snickers, laying beside of you and removing the blanket from your body. “So, you wanna do this, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes..” you nod, looking up at him.

Cute, Toji smiles before hovering his body over you. From the very moment you two met, he noticed how small you were compared to him. He’d imagine you being so afraid of him putting his cock in you, but he’d assure you that it would fit. Seeing how you were when it came to sex caused Toji to be slightly amused— since he never expected to get to this point with you.

“Ever slept with a man 5 plus years older than you before?” Toji inquires, slipping his hand between your thigh. He starts rubbing your inner thigh, close to your pelvic area, which makes you tremble.

“N-No.. not at all. My first time,” you reply, nearly squirming at Toji’s cold hands against your skin.

“Yeah?” Toji smiles, using his hands to slide off your shorts, and eventually your soaked panties. You felt embarrassed, trying to cover yourself up once Toji tosses the materials away. But he push your legs apart with his strength and aligns his body between them. “God, you’re so wet. Gonna fuck this pussy and make you scream even louder.”

“T-Toji..” you whine, covering your face with your hands.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you sweetheart,” Toji chuckles, noting how impatient you are.

Toji glides the tip of his middle finger against your wet entrance, making you squirm. He pushes two fingers into your pussy and presses his thumb against your clit. The feeling of his long and thick fingers thrust inside you made you reach an instant ecstasy you’ve never felt before.

Your moans started to drop from your mouth even more as Toji drives his finger deeper into your pussy, creating squelching noises. He smirks, rubbing circles against your clit with his thumb before he secretly inserts another finger.

“F-Fuck, Toji!” you gasp, feeling the third finger slip in. His fingers were so long and big. Comparing to yours, he’d be able to wrap your hands in his.

“I like how you say my name, princess,” Toji whispers, leaning in close to press a kiss on your forehead. “Come on, keep saying it.”

“Toji.. Toji..” you slowly chant through your moans as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you faster.

You’ve never had three fingers in you before, it was very much a new and different experience, but you fucking loved it. Toji curls his fingers, rubbing against your g-spot and making you reach closer to your orgasm.

His fingers kept pleasuring you in ways you’ve never thought you’d experience again, yet even better. Toji uses his other hand to hold your face, making you look at him as he fucks you with his fingers and making you moan his name out.

“Toji—“ you moan out, using one hand to grip his hand on your face. “Gonna c-cum..”

“Already?” Toji hums, maintaining the pace of his fingers pumping into your pussy. He slips one out, being able to thrust the two in and out faster. Your lewd noises start permeating the room, along with the wet noises of your pussy.

“Fuck, yes, Toji! I’m cu—“ you holler out, throwing your head back as you squirted immediately after. Your body trembles as you came all over your futon and fall back down against the ground.

“Not bad, sweetheart,” Toji comments as he slips his fingers out and into his mouth, getting the taste of you.

You don’t say anything besides watch him. You’re catching your breath, hands still slightly covering your flustered expression, until Toji reaches for his sweatpants. He was definitely hard now, from his way his cock was poking out.

“Damn. Never been this hard before,” Toji grunts as he pushes his pants down, his cock leaping up instantly. Your eyes observe in awe, and you give him a slight concerning expression.

“T-Toji.. it’s not gonna fit..” you say as Toji starts pumping his hard cock that was already leaking with pre-cum.

“I’ll make it fit.”

Toji gives you a smile before pressing the tip of his cock at your entrance. He moves his cock up and down against your folds, soaking the tip with your arousal and teasing your clit. Not only was he a bigger man, but his dick was too. You’ve only ever seen something like that in pornography, but being able to see it in person was appalling.

“Ready, princess?” Toji asks as he lifts his gaze to you.

You give him a nod and Toji instantly pushes his cock into you, making you squirm as you felt his dick stretch you out. “S-shit. So big, Toji..” you comment, both hands grabbing his biceps.

“Fuck- see that? Your pussy is already taking me so good,” Toji grunts before thrusting his entire length into you, earning more moans from your mouth. He starts moving his hips, using both hands to guide your legs further apart and starts thrusting faster.

The feeling of his big cock rubbing against the walls of your pussy was already driving you insane. Toji felt you clench him tightly as he thrusted, which makes him smirk, seeing how addicted you were already becoming to him.

Toji then pulls away and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, before pounding his cock right back into your dripping cunt. Your moans were escalating at that point, his name falling out of your mouth like a music note, and you both knew anyone around could hear how good he was fucking you.

“Toji- fuck yes, just like that!” you cry out, feeling the tip of his cock kiss your womb.

“Shit, princess. Everyone in this neighborhood is gonna know my name now,” Toji grunts again, thrusting his cock deeper into you before using a finger to rub your clit.

Your fingers curve against the skin of his biceps and your nails dig into his flesh, creating your nail marks on his skin as he pounded you. The sound of your moans and his grunts along with the wet slapping sounds began resonating the room, and your mind started becoming foggy.

Toji removes one of your hands from his biceps and presses it down on your lower stomach. “You feel that? You feel how deep I am inside of you?” Toji inquires, placing his hand over yours and you give him a nod.

“Yes- Toji. So fucking deep, keep going,” you beg, seeing water in your eyes due to the amount of pleasure this man was giving to you. “Want you to kiss me, Toji.”

Toji doesn’t hesitate and leans down, pressing his lips against yours while guiding both of your legs to wrap around his waist as he continues thrusting into you. One of your hands reach up to grasp his hair and tug him closer to you while your tongues start pressing against each others and your moans were falling into his mouth.

The welled tears finally began streaming down the sides of your face and Toji wipes them away while still kissing you. He pulls away, lifting you up with him. “Face the wall,” he commands and you listen, getting on your knees and pressing your hands against the wall when facing it.

Toji aligns himself behind of you, completely towering over you. He loved how small you were compared to him. He grabs the side of your hips, pushing them back against his before slamming his cock right back into you.

“O-Oh, fuckk,” you moan, feeling his dick penetrate you so deep and rubbing against your g-spot perfectly.

You clench around his cock again, making him groan as he starts thrusting. Your forehead presses against the cold sensation of the wall and you’re moaning even louder than before. Toji slides one hand beneath the shirt you’re still wearing and pushes your bra to the side to grope your breast.

“Such nice tits you have princess,” Toji mumbles in your ear before kissing your neck several times.

You’re crying again while uncontrollably moaning and screaming his name, begging for him to fuck you faster, rougher, and touch you more. His thick cock gliding against the walls of your pussy was making you reach your next orgasm and Toji could tell that you were close.

Toji’s hips slams against your ass to the point that you believed it would leave a mark later. He leans forward, using one hand to grab your neck and pull your head back. Your eyes meet his and you both share a quick kiss.

“‘m gonna cum again!” you cry out, eyes shutting as you were finally close to cumming.

“Yeah? You gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?” Toji murmurs, kissing the side of your face before returning his hand to the side of your hips. He rocks his hips faster, pounding so fucking deep into you that your body is railing against the wall.

“Toji—“ you moan out his name as you came all over him and your body nearly drops to the ground as you heavily breathe for air.

Toji grunts, feeling your cum all over him as he slips his cock out. He was still quite hard, due to not cumming and he too finds himself catching for air. You turn around, giving him a look to indicate that you weren’t done and it caught Toji by surprise.

Your mouth ended up finding its way to Toji’s cock and you began pumping him with your two hands. Toji groans, looking down at you as your tongue began swirling around the swollen tip of this throbbing dick. Imagining how your small mouth was going to take his cock was appealing to him, and he desperately wanted to shove himself down your throat.

Your mouth latches on the tip of his cock as you’re uncertain whether or not to take his entire length into your mouth, but you wanted to try. You start sucking and licking your tongue all around the tip, while pumping the rest of his length with your hand.

“F-Fuck,” Toji stammers as you look up into his eyes. “Gotta feel your entire mouth around me, princess.”

You begin pushing your face forward, making his cock sink deeper into your mouth until his tip smacked your throat. He was nearly halfway in your mouth, but you swore you couldn’t take him any further.

Toji groans as you start bobbing your head slowly, feeling his hand grasp your hair. His dick twitches inside your mouth, causing you to moan. You return one hand to pump his cock as your mouth moved up and down, your saliva covering his entire length.

“Your mouth’s so fucking good,” Toji compliments, watching your every movement. He’d never thought someone could take his cock so sensually. “Such a pretty girl.”

You squirm as you return your mouth around his tip, sucking and licking it before pushing your head back down. Toji grits his teeth, admiring how good you’re taking his cock and making him reach close to his orgasm.

“You’re gonna make me cum, princess,” Toji whines, the hand grasping your hair tightening as he gently rocks his hips.

Hearing that, you start moving and bobbing your head faster, sucking and licking his entire cock as wet and your lewd noises spilled from your mouth. You pump his cock several times again, enjoying the moans he was making.

Toji groans, pushing your head slightly for his cock to enter deeper into your mouth. You wince, surprised by this and shut your eyes as he initially begins guiding your head on his cock.

“Shit. I’m cumming now,” Toji says, throwing his head back slightly as he shoots his cum deep into your mouth and you moan, feeling the warm liquid hit your throat.

Toji could feel and watches as you swallow his cum, making a slight face afterwards to which he chuckles. You pull your head away from his cock, a small string of saliva connected from your tongue to the tip of his dick being seen before disconnecting. You were exhausted and nearly slumped over, but Toji caught you by placing his hands on your shoulders.

“You did good,” Toji says, lifting your face up with his hand before kissing you, to which you returned. The kiss was more passionate and gentle, and you couldn’t believe you were craving more from him.

But because of this, you both knew that there was no need for the other to move out.

—

The next morning, you woke up feeling numb and immediately recalled to the events of that night as your eyes opened to see that Toji was no longer beside of you. After cleaning up, you and Toji ended up sleeping on his futon, since yours was drenched in cum.

You sense blood rushing to your cheeks as the events start replaying in your head and your heart couldn’t stop racing. You were in Toji’s clothes instead of yours and you could whiff the distinct smell of his scent.

Pushing yourself up from the futon, you remove the covers from your body and walked towards the kitchen. When arriving by the entrance to the kitchen, you notice Toji standing by the door, his back facing you.

He was talking to someone, but the conversation was muffled, so you couldn’t detect anything they were saying. After a moment, Toji closes the door and turns around, eyes meeting yours instantly.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Toji says, holding a small piece of paper and appearing unaffected by whatever was written on it.

“What’s that? And who was that at the door?” you inquire, raising a brow as Toji approaches you.

“Seems like we got a noise complaint,” Toji snickers, showing you the paper he was given and allowed you to briefly glance over it before crumpling it up and tossing it to the side.

Toji snakes an arm around you, his hand cupping your ass and pulling you close. Your lips immediately crashed against his and you both share a sloppy kiss before pulling away.

“Guess we should be louder tonight then.”

LOAF4U. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

[fandomzwriterk]

can i request yandere remy labeau x reader smut. Maybe he confesses his love to his darling and it leads to smut( if your comfortable with that)

My Queen of Hearts

Warnings: Yandere Remy + slightly ooc Remy + possessive Remy + NSFW content + Virgin Reader & Remy

A/n: I’m gonna do my best for this request and I’ll do the smut but be warned I’m not the best so don’t laugh. Also 3rd person reader! Pardon my poor Cajun-French I’m sorry😭😭

NSFW below 👇🏻

Remy Labeau was an eccentric man, and everyone in the X-Men knew that, none more so than Rouge, Remy’s past lover. Past? No that can’t be right… right? He still loves her right?

Nope

Remy moved on after Magneto came and moved into the mansion. He knew he stood no chance against the very man whom she could hold and touch. Much to everyone else’s surprise, even you, he said he was uninterested in her anymore.

“She ain’t my type of girl. That’s it bon amí.”

Logan didn’t believe him, after all he still loved Jean even if she was married, but he kept that to himself. Remy was just confused according to Logan. Morph and even Jubilee just went along with it… almost too well. But who were you to judge? Remy was one of your closest friends here, so of course you’d be by his side through his complicated relationship with Rouge.

“Hey Y/n can you, Storm, and Jean help me out with something?” You heard Jubilee say from down the hall

“I’ll be right there!” You spoke as you looked at Remy as he sat on the sofa, arms crossed behind his head as he listened to whatever Morph and Logan were telling him. “I’ll be right back Remy. Jubilee needs me.”

Remy smirked at you, just a classic thing he did to any girl he had “feelings” for. They weren’t real feelings, just a facade he put up around women, that’s just how Remy worked. But if you happened to be someone Remy wanted to give his attention to… he really showed you attention.

“Oh hello Y/n.” Jean spoke kindly as she waved a hello at you with a smile. It was nice to see her, she’d been gone with Scott for a few days. “Anyways Jubilee what did you want to talk about?”

“Well you know how Magnetos been here and… well I’ve just been wondering what you three have been thinking.”

Storm muttered something under her breath as she sat looking out the window thinking long and hard as a storm came rolling in. Jean couldn’t decide what she thought either.

“I think that, even with our rough past with him, he has good intentions for us and what the Professor wanted.”

“I’m not so sure Jean. He’s fought us for so many years and now that suddenly the Professor has passed and he’s deciding to forget it all? Something doesn’t add up.”

Both Storm and Jean were right. You hadn’t been around long enough to witness the bloodshed with Magneto that everyone had, but your time was long… just not long enough to meet the Professor. You’d been here when he had left, after Remy, Scott, Logan, Rouge, and Jean brought you back from a dangerous mission. You would’ve died that day if they didn’t save you from that gang and that half destroyed Sentinel.

“Well at least for Y/n it works out.”

“Jubilee!” Both women shouted

“What?! Rouge has been all ‘cuddly and friendly’ since Magneto got here and that leaves Gambit open.”

You just sighed, turning to walk out the door as the other three women stayed silent. Closing the door behind you hard, made you want to scream out loud about what Jubilee said.

“Just ignore it Y/n. Maybe it’ll-“

Your sentence cut short as a card flew in circles in front of you, doing a flip before heading into the darkness. Your eyes could barely see who it was, but you could just figure it out on your own anyways.

“Hello Remy.” You spoke to the dark hallway

Remy held the card between his pointer and middle finger, then spinning it between his other fingers. He took one step towards you, just barely being lit by the light of the moon through the window.

“My chérie what’s wrong?” Remy spoke with a smile, putting a hand over your shoulder as he pulled you along for a walk down the hall

“Nothing Remy. I’m just fine.”

“My ange I think differently. Let ol’ Gambit talk it out with you.”

You could never object to Remy’s kindness to you. He was the one who found you that day, trapped in a cell with nothing but a bucket and pieces of bones from any sort of meat. Everyone treated you with the utmost kindness. Scott and Logan kinda felt like your older brothers, sweet but also stubborn. Jean, Storm, and Rouge were like aunts to you, kind but never getting in the way as a “parent” like Scott did. Maybe that’s just because their baby hadn’t been born yet and he was so worried about a young mutant like you. But Remy… Remy was different. Remy was there on your darkest days, your companion through the nightmares, especially at nights like these.

“Alright let’s talk then.”

“That’s it ma princesse. Let your dear Gambit hear what you’re thinking about.”

You sat on the edge of his bed as Remy walked around and went straight the bathroom, winking at you before closing the door behind him. Well, that’s Remy for ya. But here’s the thing… you don’t even have to ask what anyone is thinking… you already know.

“My dulcinée… what are you thinking about?” You hear as Remy opens the door to reveal himself with nothing but his pink crop top and boxers on

“Remy!”

You sat up, coving your eyes because you were raised to be decent for people. Taking one step away towards the door, you couldn’t dare look at someone, especially Remy, like this.

“Mon amour where do you think you’re going?”

Remy followed you, grabbing your wrist as he pulls you back and spins you around so he’s against the door and you’re more inside his room. Remy, without a second to spare, locks the door with a smile on his face, his eyes scanning you up and down as if he was going to pounce on you that second.

“Remy I-“

Being much taller than you are, and able to pick you up easily, Remy walked up and pushed you down onto his bed, watching you as you stared into his crimson-black eyes. You scooted away, trying to crawl off onto the other side, but Remy was faster, practically jumping onto you and keeping you there, trapped under him. You couldn’t move, your body felt paralyzed as you looked into Remy’s adoring eyes. You always had a feeling about him… but you could never place what it was, that is, until now.

“Do you know what I’m thinking Ma Belle?”

“N-no Remy I-i don’t.”

Your words were honest, you truly did not wish to peek into Remy’s mind right now as he had you trapped under him, on his bed, half undressed already. With his one hand on your hip to keep you there, his other went to the side of your face, caressing it as he stared into your eyes, looking for something in them.

“Well darling I’m surprised you didn’t already look. Gambit’s been having some thoughts about you since he told Rouge to fuck off.”

If your face was red, you could feel it and Remy could see it. He knew what he was doing. But at the same time, what was he saying?

“You see my dear, once I realized Rouge would gladly leave your sweet and loving Gambit for some old prick, I decided to move on from her.”

His eyes stayed onto yours as he grabbed both sides of your hips, now turning to push your head down onto his pillows. His grip was hard, almost needy. Grabbing one of yours hands with his, he continued to look into your eyes, even as he brought your hand up to kiss it.

“Now looking back on it… I’m glad I did. Rogue could never compare to what I feel when I’m around you.”

“Remy…”

“Ma Belle you are everything I want, and even if Gambit can’t decide what he wants sometimes, he knows he wants you.”

Remy broke eye contact lifting himself up a little to look at you from head to toe once more, before burying his face in the crook of your neck. His body gently laid onto yours, keeping you there in his arms and trapped under him. Even if this was a trap… did you truly want to leave him when he’s right here, willing to love you when you’ve wanted it for so long already?

“Remy do you… is this a fling or are you serious?” You asked

Remy’s head perked up, staring down at you once more. He looked confused, as if you just asked him the hardest question ever in his life.

“My déesse there is no one that could ever make me feel the way you make me feel. I adore you… I treasure you… and I don’t want anyone else to have you. Not any of the other men here. Not anyone. Just me.”

Remy gripped onto your hand tightly, as if you were going to leave and never come back. His eyes searched yours for an answer.

“I want you… I’ve always wanted you my ange.”

You didn’t even have to think twice before sitting up and wrapping your other arm around Remy’s neck, pulling him closer.

“I love you Remy.”

“And I you my angel.”

Remy didn’t hesitate to let go of the grip on your hip, holding himself up as he moved closer to your face, staring at your lips. But he didn’t do anything, waiting for you to say those words he needed to hear as well.

“Chérie I… as much as I want it… I want to know if you want it too. Gambit doesn’t wanna force you to do anything you-“

You leaned up slightly feeling lips touch yours for a quick second, then moving your head to the side to show him your neck.

“I want it Remy… I want you.”

He quickly yanked off his shirt that had barely put it on a few minutes ago. Who cares? As long as Remy gets what he wants right?

“You are so beautiful my sweet.” He whispered as he started to help you take off your top, staring at your chest with wide eyes

Remy, being Remy, just kept his eyes there for a little longer than he should’ve, almost forgetting the best part of what was in front of him. It was hard to look away as he helped take off your bottoms and left you in nothing but your underwear as well. There was silence as you both looked each other in the eye, waiting for one of you to do something.

“Sweet god you are so perfect to me.”

He wasted no time, letting you move your hands to his back while he moved his face to the side of your neck. His breath was warm, yet shaky. He seemed… confused.

“Remy is this-“

“Ya. It is my dear. And… yours as well?”

You nodded. So at least both of you were willing and wanting to be each others first. You moved one hand to go behind Remy’s head, pushing down to his mouth on your neck. Then he seemed to understand where to start. One bite was all it took for Remy to start losing himself.

“Fuuuucckkkk Ma Chérie you taste so good.” Remy groaned as he pushed you deeper into his pillows, biting almost every inch of your neck as possible

“R-Remy I- fuck. Ah~”

Remy was practically laying on you at this point, and you could feel his erection through his boxers and your panties.

“My beauty you are so- fuck- sweet to me.”

Remy leaned back, staring at you as you felt your hands go for the waistband of his boxers. He shuffled a little so you could pull them down, seeing his cock pop out. He was big, but then again you’ve never seen another man’s dick before. He pulled yours down as well, flinging them over his shoulder and onto some part of the floor.

“I… how is this supposed to-“

No hesitation from Remy and he had you pushed back, putting all his weight onto you as he crushed you with his body and his lips on yours. He was hungry, and he was hungry for you. Here you were, finally in his arms and so ready to get fucked by him. Remy was shaking with need and want, holding himself back from unleashing all his feral energy into you.

“Fuck me my dear you are so sweet on my tongue.”

Your tongues fought for a few seconds, hands moving just to hold each other closer in such need and want of each other. After a couple more bites on your neck, Remy looked down to see your cute little hole wet and needy. He didn’t even have to prep you and you were already wet at all of the things going on with you two.

“F-fuck my dear I want to push it in so bad. Tell me you want it. Tell my you want me.” He growled in your ear

“I want it… I want you Remy. Please Remy I want you so badly.” You whined, practically moaning it out loud for everyone in the mansion to hear

With one hand holding onto his cock, the other set right next to your head as he carefully put the tip up to your entrance.

“This will hurt a little my dear. Don’t worry I’m here.”

With very little effort, the tip of his cock was past your entrance. You bit back the moans daring to escape, making sure nobody else could hear you two fucking just down the hall. Remy didn’t look any better, panting like a dog in heat and ready to fuck his mate. He wanted you, slowly going deeper as you sucked him in.

“Ah my darling you feel s-so good.”

It took a little bit of time, but eventually Remy was fully seated inside you and ready to go. Remy was losing himself in you, but it’s not like you were both feeling uncomfortable with each other. Being in this position with Remy just felt… right.

“I-I’m gonna go my dear.”

One pump out had you wanting him back in. One pump in and Remy had you screaming for more. Slowly, Remy waited for you to adjust to him, holding back whatever he was wanting to do to you.

“F-faster” you begged him

Remy had you moaning and pleading for him in a matter of minutes. Maybe you always did love Remy, you were just too much into denial to listen to yourself.

“Gods be damn my love you feel so-“

Remy’s inner mind snapped, staring down at you as he grabbed both wrists and pulled them over your head and pined them there. Remy’s hands wandering, going straight for your chest and grab at your tits.

“F-fuck Ma Chérie you really know how to take my cock don’t you? Is this what you’ve been wanting this whole time? Waiting for me to be alone with you and fuck your brains out? Huh? Oh yeah you feel so good.”

Remy started to ramble, letting his mind speak freely about everything he felt about you. You didn’t care, Remy made you feel good and you were happy to be making him feel good.

“Ma Belle you’re gonna- make me- ah~”

Remy was starting to get sloppy, and you were feeling a coil in your stomach build.

“Fuck yes my dear I can feel you. I can feel you squeezing my cock, wanting me to cum. Is that what you want?”

His voice was taunting you, as if knowing you’ve had feelings for him for ages. All you could do was nod, no words able to come out aside from screaming Remy’s name and any profanities that came to your head.

“Y-yes my darling. Oh yeah I’m gonna cum inside and that way, everyone will know I’m the only one who gets this. I’m the only one who gets you. Nobody can have you, and I’ll make sure of it.”

Remy had a few more to go, he was waiting for you. Feeling the coil about to snap, you screamed Remy’s name as you felt it break.

“O-oh yeah I’m cumming Ma Chérie… Ma Belle… I’m cumming inside. Fuckkk-“

And with one final thrust, Remy spilled inside you, shaky breaths coming out of both of you as you came down from your highs.

“Fuck. That felt… so good.” Remy spoke before collapsing next to you

You felt the cum spilling out of you, not caring that Remy’s bed was now smelling like the two of you. Remy pulled you close to him, your back pressing against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you protectively. You felt so drained from this whole endeavor with him, you might as well pass out right then and there.

“Sleep well my angel. Dont worry… I’m going to make sure nobody gets in the way of our love… not even our friends.”

You felt the grip on you tighten a little, Remy not willing to let you go at all.

“I’ll do anything for you… my sweet… I love you.”

A/N: I’m sorry if it sucked I’ll get better. This is literally the first smut I’ve ever written so uh… yeah I hope you enjoyed 😅

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion Very Happy Ending

So full disclosure, my Tav was a Selunite, and I can't stop thinking well if Bhaal can have a mortal chosen one, why can't Selune?

Also, spoiler warning, stop reading here if you don't want, but like damn girl I freaking turn a Shar priestess away from her god back to you, free a man from his devil's contact, high-key save the world, kill bhaals chocen, convince my vampiric lover to not sacrifice thousands of people, stop an entire goblin army from murdering Tieflings and druids alike, and literally free your daughter. A reward is in order!

This is that reward:

Astarion was slowly getting used to living in the shadows again, as loathe as he was to admit it. It was quite the transition, despite the fact that his time in the sun had amounted to less than a year. But what a lovely year it was. Nearly a perfect one in comparison to the rest of his life. And the promise of more of the same was a suitable balm to being cursed back into the darkness.

It was difficult, but with the love of his life by his side it was more than tolerable. Borderline beautiful in fact, to be able to live his life so freely despite the infuriating complications.

The money also certainly helped.

That was one thing Astarion always had over his brothers and sisters, his fantasies of a better life had always surrounded around Cazador's murder. Not his approval. He may have been completely unaware of the horrifying dungeon beneath their feet, but he did know where the deed to his estate and other properties were kept. And now had enough connections with the higher up's of Baldur's gate for some frankly exquisite forgeries. It had been a particularly satisfying feeling to sell all of his former master's possessions off, even more so when it came to the land. Almost like he was tearing apart his legacy and handing it off to the highest bitter, piece by piece.

Though, being there with you to find and settle in your own little corner of paradise was an even better feeling. Maybe it didn't quite reach his past dreams of grandeur, but it turned out settling in a quaint and poorly lit townhouse in the upper city was more than enough for him to be satisfied.

It was a good charming life, one that Astarion was sure he didn't deserve. But that certainly wasn't going to stop him from enjoying it. Though as much as he adored where he ended up, he'd be lying if he said it was perfect.

No, perfect would have been finding a way for him to ascend without becoming a monster, living in a world where he could be with you fully, completely, out in the sun like the kind of lover you deserved. It made him feel... startlingly inadequate. Everything you did had to be in accordance to his schedule. His lack of capabilities. And just because you always insisted it didn't matter didn't fix the feeling of inadequacy. He hated it, hated the fact that there were so many hours of the day that you couldn't share. He didn't regret his choice, not for a moment, but that didn't mean he was fully satisfied with the consequences.

But in his own defense, he did make up for it in other ways. Mildly frustrating and draining ways, if not a bit rewarding. It had been his own fault, falling so utterly and completely for such a goody two-shoes. A zealot to Selune, as fierce as she was compassionate, always trying to do what was fair and just. Always dragging Astarion on for the ride of her cleric duties.

But he couldn't blame you for all of his new do-gooder ways. Not when he was nearly the leader of a bizarre cult of repentant vampire spawn.

It was just the slightest bit exhausting to so often be playing the part of their heroic leader, fighting all of his murderous instincts to work for a better future for himself and the brethren he had personally damned. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't get any satisfaction from it. It felt... good to teach them new ways to live. To give them the chance at the beautiful life he had managed to secure for himself.

He wouldn't do it forever, just until he was confident enough to be sure that his departure wouldn't lead to a massacre on either side. Then the two of you would be off to explore the lands, working to do your goddesses work with just a touch of hedonistic activities on the way.

Astarion was looking forward to it. He hadn't done all that work to be selfless forever. No, he was going to be forced to insist on a few years of having you all to himself, with only the occasional bits of volunteer work for the temple as interruption. Then the two of you could go back to galivanting about the lands being local heroes. But he had earned an extended vacation.

One that, luckily, he hadn't had to fight you on too much. That was just one other thing he loved about you, your complete understanding that Astarion would always be a little selfish, especially when it came to you. The one person who had ever really been his, who loved him, who understood him, who believed in him. Could he be blamed for wanting to have you all to himself?

And admittedly, he did have you more often then not. Even if on occasion he did have to share with your beloved goddess.

Astarion sighed as he watched you pray in the moonlight, completely absorbed in your quiet, mystical chants. Despite his distaste for the length of your prayer sessions, Astarion did like seeing your more ritualistic side. Just... maybe not for the morally correct reasons.

He was well aware that being so involved with a vampire was clearly against your religious doctrine. But it didn't matter. You still choose him, despite how the knowledge nearly made you an outcast amongst your own kind. But he mattered more than your reputation, more than the lessons you had been taught your entire life regarding love and evil.

You still had your faith, but you never let it shake the faith you had in him, something that he valued more than he could ever express. It was perhaps a sick thought, but it also made him feel exceedingly powerful, to know the true extent of your feelings. Even more connected. It was almost... like he was defiling you, corrupting a beautiful flower to turn away from the sun to something even brighter. A love that Astarion doubted most could ever hope to feel.

Perhaps that was not the best outlook on your religion, but oh well. He'd keep those thoughts to himself. What you didn't know wouldn't kill you. Besides... if anyone had been corrupted it was him, plagued with a new sense of loyalty and gods, justice. All from the beautifully strange woman kneeling in the moonlight.

Though, you sure were taking awhile tonight. Nearly twice as long as your usual nightly prayer. He hated to interrupt your worship but this was starting to cut into his time a bit here.

"My dear," Astarion called out, swinging his legs over your shared bed to stand, "Don't you think that you've been kneeling there for a touch too long?"

But you didn't respond, still muttering under your breath, even faster than before.

Astarion narrowed his eyes as he walked closer towards you, confused by your lack of response, "Darling-Tav?"

Astarion stopped, eyes wide as he got a solid look at your first. Your eyes were wide open, body rim rod straight as your irises glowed a vibrant blue light.

What in the nine hells was happening? Astarion kneeled next to you, his heart in his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Tav, love, can you hear me? What is this?"

You didn't answer, you didn't even acknowledge his presence. But you did start floating in the god damn air. Astarion stared, helpless as he watched you levitate, words that he didn't understand spilling from your lips.

Then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. You fell unceremoniously to the floor. Astarion scrambled towards you, his heart in his throat as you started to come to. He settled your head in his lap, his hands shaking as he touched your face, lost on what he should be doing.

You blinked your eyes open slowly, that angelic glow still radiating from your irises. But you didn't look frightened, more... excited.

You grinned up at him, your voice slightly cracking when you murmured, "We've been blessed."

Astarion stared at you, brow furrowed. He was happy you were alive and speaking but...

"That's lovely?" Astarion tried, "But severely lacking in terms of an explanation. Are you okay?"

You nodded eagerly, suddenly sitting up with an unexpected amount of energy, "I'll explain later, we don't have much time."

What was it that compelled you religious types to be so cryptic? But you didn't give him anytime to question. Instead you wrapping your arms around his neck and smashing your lips together, kissing him hard enough to take his breath away.

He wrapped strong arms around your back, pulling you in closer, always helpless but to return your affection. But something about this was different. He could feel it, holy magic spreading through him through your lips, down throughout his veins, changing something inside of him. It wasn't unpleasant per say, but it certainly was startling. Startling enough for him to almost push you away, if it wasn't for the fact that he trusted you with everything inside of himself.

Neither of you pulled away until the blue fire in your eyes had died out, and Astarion was left with the intense sensation that something had changed, irrevocably inside of him.

You stared at each other, Astarion in confusion while you looked nothing short of gleeful, "Do you feel it?"

He felt... strange. A warmth still spreading through him that was settling. Astarion raised a brow at you, exceedingly impatient when he asked, "First, how about you explain to me what in the hells that was?"

But you didn't answer. Instead you stood with an adorable hop, lending a hand out to help him up, "Do you trust me?"

Astarion almost rolled his eyes as he took your hand, annoyed that he fell for someone that had just as much of a flair for the dramatic as he did, "You know I do."

You helped him to his feet before you started to mumble again, a startlingly familiar incantation seeping from your lips. It was the spell for daylight, the very same that you had used to help defeat Cazador. The kind that could now kill Astarion in mere moments.

He was too shocked at your audacity to even protest, believing for a split, terrifying second that he was about to die a fiery death. Sunlight suddenly filled the room, bright enough for Astarion to tightly shut his eyes.

Then...nothing. No burning, no pain, nothing but the sounds of you both breathing.

That didn't-how was he-what did you just do?

Astarion stared at you, absolutely flabbergasted with his mouth hanging open, staring at the borrowed daylight like a simpleton, "But how?"

You were still grinning ear to ear, looking happier than Astarion had ever seen you before. You grasped his hands in yours, your smile gentle as you explained, "I told you. We were blessed. Our Lady of Silver gave me one gift, and this is what I choose."

If sunlight wasn't already staring him in the face, Astarion would never believe it. But here he was, alive and standing under it's warmth. A gift from a goddess, spent on him of all creatures.

"It can't fix everything," You clarified with the slightest frown, "But it can fix this."

He could feel the truth in your words. He was still... wrong. A creature born of something awful, doomed to eternity and a life of bloodlust. But part of that wrongness had been culled, curling up and dying from Selune's holy magic, from your enduring love.

It was a dream he never thought possible. One that he had accepted never having. But here he was, here you were, continuing to give him the impossible.

It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Astarion reached up, cupping your face before confessing the truth he couldn't quell.

"I don't deserve you," He whispered, voice hoarse, "I'll never deserve you. Words can't express my thanks. You have given me everything, while I have nothing but myself to give in return. But it's always yours. Everything inside of me."

He meant every word, he always would. Until his last breath.

You shook your head, gentling cooing at him, "This is a time for celebration my love, not for doubt. You've earned this."

He hadn't. And he doubted you'd ever be able to convince him he had. But he'd still take it. Gladly.

"I love you," Astarion murmured, helpless to say anything else. He pressed his lips against yours, the gravity of his new life just starting to settle in his mind.

He was free, as free as he could ever hope for. You had achieved what Cazador could not, all without a hint of malice or horrifying sacrifice. But through kindness, love, and perseverance. You had already freed him once from his own mental shackles, his last remaining ties to the tyrant that made him.

And now you've done it again, saving him from at least a portion of the taint on his soul.

It was beautiful, wonderful, and Astarion would never waste a moment of it.

[tossawary]

Thinking about a comedic "Star Wars" fic premise that could be either DinLuke or BobaLuke, not as an "OTP happily ever after" thing for either pairing, more as a series of ill-conceived hook-ups that everyone involved wishes were a little less emotionally complicated, actually.

Because the basic (been done before, I'm sure) premise of "I fucked a 19yo in Mos Eisley's only gay bar, that's kind of embarassing for me..." -> "I hate it when a past hook-up becomes a- MULTI-MILLION CREDIT bounty??? What the hell??? He killed HOW MANY people???" -> "Oh, fuck me, he's DARTH VADER'S SON!!!" works for either Boba or Din.

The flavor of the fic is of course extremely different for each pairing. Boba Fett is much more of an asshole, especially at this point in time, but he also has a lot of really interesting connections to Luke's past / family (Boba is SWEATING during his later meetings with Darth Vader). (He fucked a Jedi??? He fucked ANAKIN SKYWALKER'S kid??? Darth Vader is Skywalker??? Shit.) So, that has the potential to go to angstier places. DinLuke is just more likely to happen in the first place and also keep happening, because Din is less of a bastard and, you know, not canonically working for Jabba the Hutt or Darth fucking Vader.

(They're both 10+ years older than Luke, so you can make terrible helmeted daddy issues jokes about this silly situation either way.)

Because I enjoy fic premises based on how funny they are to me personally, I settled on both of these pairings. It's too funny to imagine Boba ("I'm too fucking old for this shit") Fett and Din ("The helmet has to stay ON during sex") Djarin having a "WAIT, HIM TOO???" moment in the middle of a firefight between Luke's little rebel friends and a bunch of other bounty hunters sent after them by Luke's shitty Sith Lord dad.

And Luke's friends, in between shooting at all of these competing bounty hunters, are like, "How do you already have TWO bounty hunter EXES out for your ass??? I thought you were only 20? 21?? And that you never even left Tatooine before you joined the Rebellion???" And Luke can only be like, "I lived near a spaceport, okay??? I'm SORRY that the only good club was in a wretched hive of scum and villainy called MOS EISLEY!"

Han Solo, pressed up against some crates for cover: "Look, kid, the criminal underworld doesn't have a lot of hard rules, but some things are just common sense... Don't fuck bounty hunters!!!"

Luke, sitting beside him: "Do we really have to do this now?"

Leia, on Luke's other side, leaning in as she pulls out a thermal detonator: "Who RAISED you??? Didn't anyone ever tell you never to sleep with Mandalorians???"

Luke: "Why would your parents even think to warn you about that?"

[suni-writings]

Running out of time. | part 2

jude bellingham x fem!reader

When two people who didn’t know how to love met at the perfect timing to ruin each other.

part 1 | part 3

wc: 3k

(content warning: angst, troubled relationships, situationship, break-up, suggestive content)

Jude Bellingham knew a few things. He knew how good he was on pitch; he knew the perfect timing to pass, and he knew how to score beautiful and decisive goals. But above all, he knew he had royally screwed up with probably the only person he had ever liked after his terrible, boring and complicated relationship. And the guilt he carried on his shoulders from hurting someone that was too good for him, who had never wronged him at all was one of the heaviest burdens he had yet experienced.

He didn’t love her, no. He knew she didn’t love him either — neither of them allowed it to get that far. But he was in love. He knew it from all those moments he had with her, from all the times she faced troubles by his side, from every time she had forgiven him. From every caress, every kiss, every slight touch. And he couldn’t even get started on the sex.

Jude thought he was making the right decision — making her stay away from his problems, asking for her to still be around somehow, even if he didn’t know exactly where she’d fit in his life, and being selfish.

He only forgot, in the meantime, that she had also every right to be selfish and not take accountability of the way he felt or of what would hurt him. After all, that had been exactly what he did to her. After the conversation they had, the week after, she accepted the break. But he knew her better than that — it was, most likely, just her trying to be considerate. They had talked so much about her previous relationships when they were together that he knew things were done for her. She even texted him saying she found something out and was upset but left him on read once he replied.

At the end of the day, Jude was just a man. When they had gone no contact for two weeks because of him, he had hit on some girls. Put himself out there. He was so sure of what he wanted that it felt okay to be that selfish. He was mad at her for the way she acted at the club and had decided they wouldn’t match at all.

He also thought, being only 21, he had so much stuff to live. Why would he be stuck with someone he wasn’t even dating when he could live? He knew what he wanted.

Until he saw how much better she seemed without him. Jude wasn’t proud of it, but he kept tabs on her — usually checking her Twitter or her Instagram profile. She hadn’t tweeted anything in a few days and she was always going out; her Instagram stories filled with nice places, surrounded by friends and music, and looking majestic. Like he hadn’t hurt her at all. As if she felt nothing. As if, all this time, what was keeping her from thriving was him.

To say his ego was bruised was an understatement. He tried to give her tit for that, going out and posting, but even he knew he didn’t look near as happy as her. He still had her on his close friends, and she hadn’t posted anything in hers for a while.

Did she take him out of her close friends?

Why was she posting things so close to her male friends?

Why there were so many new people following her?

Who are those new people commenting on her posts?

Is this a friend of hers? Is she flirting?

It didn’t take a genius to understand that he was, more than ever, regretting. But Jude, always letting his pride take the best of him, wouldn’t show it. Not at all. He tried to act okay and nonchalant, as if he didn’t check his texts to see if she had finally replied, her Twitter account to see how her life was doing, her Instagram to check if she had found anyone at all.

Of course she must’ve had found someone new. Jude knew he could do the same, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He tried to go on a few dates, but every woman seemed so boring next to her. They didn’t talk like she did, they weren’t smart like she was, they weren’t near as funny as she was.

She, she and she. They were on a break, right? Technically, at least. She said she wouldn’t put any rules to the break, and at first that seemed like freedom to him. Now, it just felt like a taunt — a reminder she could not be there anymore when and if they got back. She had told him that, that he couldn’t expect her to be waiting on him forever. He couldn’t even expect her to wait, if he was being honest. Knowing her feisty personality, she would never wait on him.

Jude was filled with remorse. It was his choice and he thought he was doing the right thing, but he realized he had just been an impulsive prick. He got annoyed at her and thought he’d manage easily to be without her — after all, they were just a thing. A little serious, of course, but not official.

But when he laid in bed alone, he missed her caresses, as if only she knew the right way to mess with his soft locks. He missed her laughter, the smile that was always on her face when they were together. The shy way she’d get closer when she wanted him to caress her, almost as if she’d get too vulnerable for asking something he was more than willing to give her. God, he missed being at her place, on her bed, talking the whole day and his friends asking where the hell he had gone. He missed the sex, the way she’d pant his name, the way her eyes shut close when it was too much, how she’d hold his face when he was on top of her so his eyes would never leave hers. As if it was even necessary.

It seemed like he couldn’t find that on anyone else. Nothing even slightly close. He’d even try to picture her as some of the girls he went out with, but even that didn’t work. His life just seemed to go downhill as hers thrived.

It made him bitter. Jude made his bed, and he was lying on it.

Did she still think about him, at least? Did she keep tabs too? Was it an act?

Who was he trying to fool? She probably hated him by now. Not wanting to see even the slightest trace of his existence, if he knew her.

It was another insufferable Friday, which meant he had to find something to do. His life couldn’t stop just because one aspect of it was completely, utterly fucked. Jude texted his friends and most of them were going to this expensive, fancy bar they had the habit of going.

He truly liked the place — hanging lights, lots of plants surrounding it on the outside. The dark wooden, shiny floor and the elegant black marble where you’d get your drinks and the strategically placed couches of velvet in a shade of dark blue. It was pleasant, refreshing and ostentatious. Seemed like the perfect place to get her out of his mind.

Or so, he thought. He should’ve known better, he should’ve known she would, somehow, by an unfortunate coincidence, show up when he was decided to forget her for one night, at least.

His feet were making its way to her before his mind could stop it. Too focused on the way she sat on the couch, crossing her legs. The way that her skirt slowly rode up whenever she’d slightly shift her position and that goddamn leather crop top was, most certainly, going to be the death of him.

Jude’s eyes were so focused on the breathtaking, unexpected sight of her that he didn’t notice she had someone with her until he was too close. He opened his mouth, but words seemed to die on his dry throat. She seemed surprised to see him – not in a positive way, however. He could see the small, slight frown on her face and the glance of disappointment.

He shouldn’t have left his place at all.

“Wait, is this—?” The man next to her spoke up. He seemed to be excited about Jude’s presence and that made him want to scoff. If he knew about the situation, he’d be quiet. The man wasn’t bad looking, far from it, but not what she deserved.

What she deserves then?, Jude asked himself. Because it definitely wasn’t what he did to her.

“I’m him.” Jude replied as fast as he could, staring at the man with a firm look. He was probably unaware of the situation, so why was Jude even trying to defy him in any way? He wouldn’t understand it.

“How do you know Jude Bellingham?” Her date asked her, looking at her with the biggest smile.

She gave him a small smile in return. Jude knew that smile too well — the one where she’d thin her lips, trying only to be polite when she was more than annoyed. What a great situation.

“Not a story that’s worth telling, really,” she told the man. Ouch. “Hello, Bellingham. Fancying your night?”

To anyone else, she might’ve sound polite. However, he knew it was a taunt. It was her mocking him, rubbing in his face her despise over him.

“Fancying it much more now with the sight of you,” Jude replied with a cocky grin. He knew he shouldn’t be acting like that and that it’d only make everything worse, but he needed to get at least a reaction out of her. To know there was still something she felt about him, even if it was buried deep down. Anything.

She just scoffed. It was clear that, if she could ignore his presence, she would. Perhaps he should’ve thought before moving his feet.

“I suppose you and I should talk,” Jude said after clearing his throat.

“I suppose that, if I wanted to talk to you, I’d have replied to your texts.”

Good point, he thought.

“I’m back.” Jude blurted out, his voice sounding too firm for someone who just said something his mind didn’t process. Being impulsive yet again, as if it wasn’t exactly why he ended up in this situation.

“I’m not.” She said with a sarcastic smile. Her date stared at her and then glanced at Jude, finally placing the pieces of the puzzle together. She must’ve talked about her situation with him, because he didn’t look that excited about Jude anymore. In fact, he seemed displeased.

“Well, I think you should be,” Jude said and looked into her eyes. “And I think we should talk.”

She rolled her eyes. Thankfully, she knew him enough to know that he wouldn’t give up until they had a proper conversation, even if that meant she’d throw everything he had done in his face. Even if that meant all he’d get from her was sarcastic, snarky comments. She muttered an apology to her date, promising she would be back soon enough. Jude guided her somewhere a little far from the man, giving him a glance before staring at her.

“Did you really have to interrupt my date?” She asked with annoyance. He had forgotten how beautiful she could look when she was angry and how kissable her lips could turn.

“Please,” Jude rolled his eyes. “Is that who you’re fucking with? You could do better than him.”

“First of all,” she raised her fingers. “That’s none of your business. And second, doing better than him definitely isn’t doing you.”

He had it coming.

“Look, I fucked up—”

“And I don’t want to hear your lame excuses. I’m not in the mood.” She cut him off and he sighed, one hand running through his hair.

“I’m back. You said it was a break, didn’t you?” He asked, his tone more possessive now, allowing emotions to take control of him. “Let them know I’m back. Whoever it is you’re fucking with, I’m back.”

She stopped for a second, her brain processing his words. She didn’t see it coming, and neither did he.

“Did you seriously think I’d wait for you?” She asked, looking into his brown eyes. God, he’d do almost anything to have her looking in the soft, affectionate way she did. He forgot how cold she could be when she wanted to, and how it used to spread though her expressions.

“I’m not dumb,” he replied and looked away for a second, glancing once again at the man that was far away from them, scrolling through his phone as he waited for her.  “Is he keeping you satisfied, mama?”

“Mama?” She scoffed. “Ask my undone sheets, asshole.”

“So he touched you before you came here?” Jude asked, his jaw tightening. Technically, it was none of his business. Technically, he wasn’t allowed to feel like that. Technically, she was never his.

Technically.

“Since when are you this inconvenient and nosy?” She asked, not bothering to answer his question. He bit his lip, the thought of someone else having touched her before he even got the chance to see her that day killing him.

“Since I decided I’m coming back for good.” He replied firmly.

“You’re not coming back. There’s no fixing what you did.” She retorted. He didn’t even realize how heated the argument got, nor how his body instantly leaned closer to hers.

He was at her mercy, but of course she didn’t know that. How could she after what he did?

“There’s nothing broken, so of course there’s no fixing.” He said and she raised her eyebrows, read, to throw some sarcastic remark, but he continued: “It’s unfinished. It’s different.”

“It’s very finished. It’s over. Over.” She said in a somewhat aggressive tone.

Oh, how he wanted to just grab her by the arms and shut her up. He was always good at doing that.

“You know what pretty? Words are coming out of your mouth, but I just can’t seem to listen to them.” Jude smirked. “Wanna talk closer to my face? Maybe put some sense into me, hm?”

“If I get any closer to your face, it’ll be to slap you.”

He was finally getting a reaction from her.

“I wouldn’t mind. I kind of deserve it, after all.” He shrugged. “You know it makes no sense you and whoever that guy is.”

“Edward. His name is Edward.”

“Great. Another reason why it makes no sense.” Jude grinned and held back a chuckle from his own sentence. “Did I fuck up that badly that you just chose a guy named Edward? Thought you had gone through your Twilight phase when you were a child.”

She shook her head. He could see that even her wanted to laugh at his joke. She probably would, if it was someone else saying it.

“Yeah, you did fuck up that badly.” She replied and he could feel a pang hurt in his chest. His expression quickly faltered, and he took a deep breath.

“Princess, I’ll be fully honest with you,” Jude said, feeling like this could be the only time she’d hear him, now he had broken one of her walls down. “I won’t lie and say I was a saint in the meantime. I won’t even say that you’re wrong about the intentions I had when I wanted to break things off, but not enough for you to leave. But to say I’m regretting is an understatement. Can’t find you anywhere.”

She sighed. She had known his intentions from the moment he tried to keep her around, despite apparently not wanting to be with her anymore

“Took you losing me to find that out?” She asked, her voice vulnerable.

“No,” Jude quickly replied, shaking his head and caressing her cheek to try to calm her down. He didn’t even know how she allowed him to touch her. “No, baby. I knew it when I had you, I just—” he sighed. “I was dumb. So dumb. And blind, as well.”

She sighed as well, taking a step back a Jude’s hand slowly left her face. The distance that was created made his heart ache. He wanted to be able to touch her again, to hold her. To rebuild the trust that he had wrecked.

“Just because you realized that you were dumb and what you actually lost,” she looked at him. “Doesn’t mean I’m taking you back. I’m sorry— well, not really. I do think you deserve it, but I don’t mean to harm you by not taking you back. It’s not out of spite, it’s just—”

“I broke your trust,” Jude finished her sentence and she nodded. He knew about her trust issues, and she had warned him so many times. In fact, she had warned him about everything that was happening; how, if they ever broke what hey had up, he’d be the one losing. How she knew her worth, how she wouldn’t come back. And how her good opinion, once lost, was lost forever.

Still, he gave her a soft smile.

“I get it. I do. And I also think I deserve it,” Jude bit his lip. “But I can be persistent. And, also, I have your coat back home. I can always use that as an excuse.”

She rolled her eyes and he chuckled. He was certain she had forgotten about her coat and would now be asking for it back. At least, he had a proper excuse to text her and to try to meet her again. Alone, preferably, not with the company of another man.

“Go back to him,” he said, his tone lower now as she began to walk away. He was defeated, but the war wasn’t over. Not yet, not now. “But princess?”

And, for some unbeknownst reason, she looked up at him when he called her by her nickname.

“Don’t let him touch you,” Jude said, and she knew what he meant. “You and I, we’re not done. You want war, then I’ll show you what’s in store. But this is not over.”

With that warning, he let her go.

He would do anything to win her back.

[enanansbbg]

Anhane’s relationship, and it’s complexity:

this was originally uploaded onto twt, but I wanted to reupload it here because I was very proud of this analysis, so please enjoy and feel free to add anything I may have missed or skipped over!

With that being said, here we go! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

Let’s start with the basics. The pure power of their aibouness, and its connections to vivid street.

To begin, you must understand what a partner is in VBS terms. In this case, it’s ‘a person who brings out parts of you never knew existed’.

In relations to Anhane, this is based off pure raw emotions. This is shown through An’s abandonment issues and Kohane’s want to make her heart pound.

Kohane wants to recreate that feeling she felt when she first heard An singing inside of An, to ‘make her heart pound’, while An’s abandonment issues cause her to fear Kohane’s rapid growth may lead to Kohane abandoning her.

This also plays into a certain factor about Kohane and the idea of her and angst, I believe.

Many people want Kohane to have some kind of angst event, especially related to her backstory, but that would go against all her motives.

See, Kohane’s pure movies for pursuing music—for working to surpass Rad Weekend all tie back to An. It was hearing An singing at WG that made her heart pound and An asking her to be her singing partner that caused her to even consider music as an option.

From here, their relationship develops into a lot more, and it’s when the idea of partners ‘bringing out an ugly side of you’ comes to play.

You can see even in the maim story An not seeing Kohane as an equal. It only gets called out and resolved in Singing in Sync.

Singing In Sync, ep. 1 and 3

🎧: “In the unlikely event that something does go wrong, I’ll cover for you and get you back on track, okay?”

…

🎧: “I failed as her partner…I couldn’t protect her…

…

🎧: “I mean, she’s my partner…And I wanted to guide her so that she could sing without worrying…”

…

🥞: “You don’t think of Kohane as one of the team.”

An telling Kohane “I’ll protect you if you mess up” subconsciously puts the idea into Kohane’s head “I’m not good enough, so I’ll probably mess up” This is what caused the entire issue in SIS to begin with.

But it’s once An tells her “you can protect me too” that Kohane is able to subconsciously think “I have the power to make her heart pound too”

Singing in Sync, ep. 8

🎧: “If I miss a cue at the next event…”

🎧: “Could you cover for me?”

🐹: “An… Sure, I can do that!”

After this we get Awakening Beat. Kohane is able to come out of her shell and fully adapts the idea “I can make her heart pound too” and has a large boost in confidence because of it. An both brought her confidence down and back up in the spam of one rotation.

Awakening Beat, ep. 8

🎧: (“It’s like she’s not even the Kohane I know. Could this be because she’s completely resolved herself?”

🎧: (“But even with just that, she can really change this much…?”)

However….In the same event, An’s insecurities begin to bloom and in Bout for Beside You, An has to face them for the first time.

Awakening Beat, ep. 8, BFBY, ep. 4

🎧: (“I was just gonna tell her she did amazing… That I never knew she could sing that amazingly, but…”

🎧: (“What’s going on? I just can’t get the words out—”)

…

🎧: “Kohane is…going to leave me behind?”

Here, An realizes her and Kohane ‘perfect’ relationship is more complicated now. While Kohane’s adapted the idea of “I want to make her heart pound”, An opens to idea of “I wont he able to make her heart pound anymore” (they doki doki more than ddlc i swear)

At the end of the event, An ask Kohane the golden question. “If I were to leave somewhere far away, would we still sing together?”

BFBY, ep. 8

🎧: “But what would you do if I said that I’d be going somewhere far far away someday?”

🎧: “And I wanted to reach greater heights just like what Uncle Taiga did exploring the world. If I were to go to someplace even greater and far far away from here—”

Of course, Kohane affirms this. Naturally, Kohane takes a lot of pride in being An’s partner, being the only partner for her. (as said in ORS) She wants to keep singing with An forever.

BFBY, ep. 8

🐹: “Even so, I would want to keep singing with An-chan!”

🐹: “No matter where you go or what you become, I’d still want to be with you!”

🐹: “I want to properly stand beside you and sing with you!”

We’re gonna skip ahead a bit and jump up to KIUAN, where we get our lovely “She looks like Nagi-san” line, the line that killed every Anhane shipper in the tristate area.

But what makes this line so special? Well, for that let’s discuss what made Nagi’s death (and the lie surrounding it) so impactful.

Nagi was someone An looked up to highly. So, when she was suddenly told that Nagi moved, not even saying goodbye, to pursue her music career, it left a mark on An. Added to the fact that Nagi wasn’t returning An’s messages or calls, just completely disappeared.

Now, looking to Bout for Beside you and KIUAN, you can see the importance of these lines. An fears that Kohane will improve so much that she leaves without a word, never talks go her again and just moves on. It’s why she looks so distressed.

VOT ep. 8, BFBY, ep. 8, KIUAN ep. 7

🎧: “…Aww. I wonder what Nagi-san is doing over in America? I wish she’d give us a call at least.”

🎧: “Ah! Maybe I’ll send her a text then! I wonder if she’ll be surprised~?”

…

🎧: “But what would you do if I said that I’d be going somewhere far far away someday?”

…

🎧: “…She looks just like Nagi-san…”

And, it’s why she can’t even believe Kohane when she says just how important An is to her, how much she loves her and wants to sing with her because Nagi said the same thing and now Nagi is gone.

This manages to reach a resolve in WTWG, where An ‘fights’ Kohane, takes all those raw emotions out in a healthy way, through her song.

An’s card in WTWG is more than just ‘An takes her anger out on Kohane’, because in truth that’s not entirely what she’s doing. Instead, it’s An’s raw emotions taking form.

An wants Kohane to grow, she wants Kohane to thrive fully, but that fear of abandonment—Fear that Kohane will leave and never speak to her again makes her want to hold her close and never let her go anywhere.

So what about Kohane?

Well, starting with thr WTWG card/story, Kohane wants to be An’s best partner. As she states, ‘to make An’s heart pound’.

So, to be vulnerable here is to accept all of An’s raw emotions. Let her lean on her and feel everything because to Kohane, that makes her a worthy partner.

She says over and over throughout the fight that An is amazing, that she wants to be like her, how much it makes her heart pound. Really, it reminds me of Kohane’s colorfes story.

WTWG, ep. 7

🐹: (“An-chan…really is amazing.”)

🐹: (“…Whenever I hear An-chan sing, it really makes my heart pound like nothing else. It makes me wish I could sing like her.”)

In it, Kohane goes to Vivid Street, but everyone thinks she’s An. This happens after she thinks about what it would be like to be An, but only going through this dream does she realize that she doesn’t want to be An, she wants to be her. She wants to be An’s partner.

Colorfes Kohane ep. 1 and 2

Record Store Onee-san: “You caught me off guard, using polite like that, An-chan!”

🐹: (“Did she just say An-chan…?”)

…

🐹: (“—An-chan’s so cool and strong…and there’s times I wish I could be like her…”)

🐹: (“I have to be me! Because—”)

🎧: “—Y’know, I was thinking, your singing is always so amazing, Kohane.”

🎧: “Whenever I hear your singing, it makes my heart race. The tension rises, and it makes me feel like I have to start singing right now!”

🐹: (“Because I’m An-chan’s partner—!”)

And to be An’s partner, is to drag all those raw, vertical emotions out of An, just like she does in WTWG.

In conclusion, Anhane explosion their relationship is so complex and strong and I love it

[ditzybat]

Hi! I saw that you had an idea where Tim sees Lady Shiva as a mother-figure and have not been able to stop thinking about it since. Do you have any more thoughts on that?

I have many thoughts on this particular head canon!

This mostly stems from the idea that Janet Drake and Lady Shiva have similar personalities, and therefore when Tim met Shiva he imprinted onto her like a baby duckling (pun intended).

A contributing factor to this is also their mentorship/partnership!

Tim and Shiva’s relationship is increasingly complicated. She’s trained him and they grew a partnership of mutual respect and were seen as equals for the period of time Tim spent in Paris (6 months.) And they were generally amicable until he killed her while under the influence of enhanced drugs due to her interference and desire to be killed by someone better than herself.

Because of that last little tidbit I like to think that Shiva views Tim as someone who has the potential to surpass her and therefore like a son (much like a twisted version of Cass and hers antagonistic fueled relationship). While on the flip side, Within the year that they met, Tim has interacted more with a woman who is startling similar to his very scary mother, than his own mother who would rather send him to private school than raise him herself while she travels. And much like Cass he believes Shiva’s perspective to be flawed. But at the same time, respects Shiva for her fighting prowess.

I also really like the Fanon of Shiva wanting to be a good mother, and laying claim to both Cass and Tim as her blood in front of Bruce to both mess with him and to somewhat apologize for her behavior towards them but not quite quitting killing.

And I really love the idea of Tim fighting Shiva one day, and then the next having tea with her while gossiping, in place of his actual mother who kicks the bucket not long after they meet.

[spamgyu]

BACKBURNER // PART 4

DESCRIPTION: She had grown tired of being on his back burner, the person that he had kept warm until he gotten the girl he has had his eyes set on for years... And with a little help from her friend, maybe... just maybe she'll finally be the first choice. PAIRING: Seungcheol x Reader | Mingyu x Reader GENRE: Angst & Fluff PART 3 | SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

When he had told Jeonghan that his roommate had convinced him to go over to his best friend's house to finally tell her how he felt, he wasn't lying.

It wasn't just for show – to tell a fake story to make their lies believable.

"Seungcheol fumbled, are you going to do the same thing?" Minghao asked him, keeping his eyes trained on the screen while they worked together to complete their game's mission.

For the past few months, they had almost always circled back to one topic.

Y/n.

It was almost as if a switch had turned on in his head the day he realized that she was the one he loved this whole time. Just as has his mother predicted since their high school days, Mingyu had fallen in love for the one constant that was in his life.

"It's complicated, Hao. Shoot shoot– fuck." Mingyu cried, chucking his controller to the side as the screen flashed "MISSION FAILED".

Minghao shrugged. "How complicated could it be?"

"Well for one, it's one sided." He listed. "And then what, I lose her? Rather not have that."

"Just give it a shot. I doubt she'll cut you out anyways. She's stuck around this long, hasn't she?"

He was right.

She had seen the good, the bad, and the ugly and yet, she was still here. She still stuck by his side through it all.

He brought his fingers up to his lips, biting his nails – a bad habit he had developed whenever he allowed his thoughts to consume him.

The worst that could happen was that she could reject him, which he was 99% sure she would.

He just needed to get this damn weight off his shoulder.

Now more than ever.

Sighing, Mingyu stood from his seat. "Alright, I'm going to do it."

He had all the intentions of doing so that Valentine's Day. Showing up to her doorstep with a small bouquet of tulips he had picked up at Trader Joe's along with her favorite sweet treat from their bakery section – the brownie cookie combo that he swore was far too sweet for anyone's taste buds.

But instead, he was greeted by a girl with red eyes – it was clear that she had been crying just minutes before his arrival.

"Are those for me?" She sniffled, pointing to the contents in his hand.

"Yeah, I figured you were going to be upset this Valentine's day." He chuckled, lying through his teeth.

It wasn't the right time.

Mingyu wanted to tell her how he felt.

He wanted to finally feel the weight come off his chest but he knew it wasn't right.

Not when he still plagued her mind.

"Thank you." Y/n smiled, using the sleeves of her sweater to wipe her eyes. "No plans today?"

Mingyu shook his head, plopping down on her couch. "Today is for couples."

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"Fake dating?" Minghao repeated what his friend had just debriefed him after his arrival. "At your big age, you're going to pretend to fake dat– You know you've had many bad ideas before but this one takes the fucking cake."

Mingyu groaned, putting his head in his hands. "I know okay? I know, I just– She– I don't know. You know I'd do anything for her."

"Including helping her get Cheol back?" He cried.

"I just want her happy."

Minghao sarcastically clapped. "Let's give it up for the stupidest boy alive."

"Leave me alone." He pushed his friend's hands away from his face.

"This is going to be so fucking messy." He shook his head as he headed for his room, leaving his friend in the living room to wallow in his own thoughts.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

After three days of non-stop activities, she was ready to tap out – groaning in her bed as she flipped laying on one side to the other. She had mistakenly agreed to go hiking with Seokmin, Seungkwan and Hansol the day before and as someone who rarely did any physical activities, she was regretting her decision – feeling her thighs ache under the covers.

"Let's do something." Mingyu suggested from his bed, growing bored of the show he had been watching on the television.

Everyone else had left the hotel early in the morning to go ziplining, and considering her current state and his fear of heights, the duo had opted to sit this one activity out.

Getting the rest they deserve.

"I'm tired." She whined.

"Come on, I wanna go back up north and look around the shops." He pouted dramatically, batting his lashes at her.

They had all been so busy trying to complete the itinerary Eunji had so kindly organized that day that they weren't able to fully enjoy all the small town had to offer – Mingyu making note to pay it another visit during his free time.

Which was now.

She never could resist him.

Letting out a sigh, she sat up in her bed – trudging over to her suitcase. "You better fucking buy me something."

"I'm your boyfriend not your sugar daddy."

Grabbing the nearest article of clothing, Y/n turned around and threw it at him – hitting his face.

"I'm the luckiest man alive." He chuckled, tossing it back at her – making it perfectly into her suitcase.

"You sure are, baby." She winked, heading straight to the bathroom – outfit in hand.

"I thought we won't use baby!" He called out as the door slammed shut – a wide grin on his face.

He didn't care if it was in pure sarcasm. Mingyu felt his heart skip a beat.

Just as it had been the past few days.

Oh he was down bad.

Within an hour, they were back on the same road, blasting the same playlist – the two taking turns singing obnoxiously along to her favorite songs.

"I like it here." She reached over to dial the volume down, turning to point her film camera at him. "Smile– oh my god don't pose– ew!"

After a year of nothing but pure heartache, riding the roller coaster of emotions that Seungcheol had managed to strap her into, this was the first time in a while that the girl had enjoyed her time.

She couldn't help but dread the thought of the trip wrapping up, having to face the music of her reality – going back in to work, coming home to an empty apartment... and be alone with her thoughts.

With no Mingyu to distract her.

In the past few days, she had gained a new appreciation for her friend – noticing the small details of his actions. Especially after voicing this to Seungcheol on the beach, in attempts to defend their lie.

And even more when Mingyu had confirmed this two days ago.

At the time, she was simply saying what was at the top of her head. She had always known that he was there for her, answering all her calls in an instant and showing up with no questions asked.

Even if it was to help her get a bird, that had accidentally flown in and wreaked havoc, out if her apartment.

She remembered how stressed and terrified he was of hurting the poor thing as he used a broom to usher the small creature out – recording the whole thing on her phone for future entertainment purposes.

"Thank you." She glanced over at him, a soft smile on her lips.

"For what?" Mingyu's brows furrowed, confused at the sudden change of tone and air between them.

"Just being a good person." Y/n shrugged.

"Are you going all soft on me, y/n?" He teased.

"Don't make me take it back."

"I'm kidding." He chuckled, reaching over to give her cheek a poke. "I should be thanking you. You bullied me into being a good person."

Aside from his parents and his sister, she had a big influence on who he was and the man he had become today.

Y/n had never once let any of his mistakes go by without a single lecture. He remembered all the times he would sit in silence while she talked his ear off, even if it was something minor as forgetting to clean the lint trap out of his dryer.

Something about starting a house fire.

Before, when he was in his teens and still unappreciative of her nagging, Mingyu would simply roll his eyes – letting her words go in one ear and out another. As time had gone by, he had learned to appreciate it.

Welcoming it even; beating her to the punch to text her of his mistakes and asking for advice on how he could make it right.

"Not enough though. How many girls have cried because of you?"

"Don't make me take it back." He jokingly threatened, using her line.

Laughing, she allowed for the views to distract her once again – snapping a few more pictures.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"We should come back here. Make it a tradition." She said, as the treaded through the small tide pools, pointing out the small school of fish that swam along their legs every now and then.

"Holding you to that."

The two had many traditions that they had set in place, one of them being spending a week during their summers camping with both of their families. A tradition that began when he had tagged along during one of her family trips – it wasn't long until his family joined in the following year, their fathers instantly becoming friends during the first day.

This would merely be another trip that they would continue on until they were old and grey.

"Do you think our kids will be friends? Like us?" Y/n asked aloud, stopping him in his tracks.

"I haven't really thought that far."

A lie.

He has.

Though, he would much prefer if their kids were siblings rather than friends.

They say a man knows in an instant whether they want to marry a girl or not.

Mingyu was no different.

He remembered that day so clearly. She had dragged him along to the mall to help her find the perfect dress for Jeonghan's wedding, and with nothing better to do he had agreed.

She had stepped out of the dressing room in a one shoulder satin maxi dress, fitting perfectly on her body. It was a simple dress, no ruffles, no sequins, no lace. Just a plain satin dress; but somehow she made it look like it was worth far more than the tag attached at the seams.

Mingyu remembered his heart skipping a beat that day, the breath in his lungs didn't seem enough as he took in her beauty.

He didn't know what triggered it, maybe it was the constant talks of the wedding, but his brain was instantly flooded with the thought of being the one at the end of the aisle – waiting for her as she made her way down in a white dress.

This soon then spiraled to thoughts of a married life with her; spending the rest of his life with his best friend.

It took him nearly a week to snap out of this day dream, his mind constantly wandering back to that day and the whirlwind of emotions that hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Have you at least thought about what you want for dinner?" She laughed; bringing him back to reality.

"Poke probably." Mingyu muttered.

"Sh.. the fish can hear you." She feigned shock as another school of silver fish swam by her toes.

"Yummy yummy fish." He cooed.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Sitting atop of the roof of the car, the two picked at the various small bowls for cubed fresh cut of the day that they had picked up from the local market – humming in content each time they took a bite.

Instead of meeting the rest of the group for dinner, Mingyu and Y/n agreed it would be best to simply pick up the poke he had originally suggested as opposed to racing back to the city.

Watching the sunset while parked by the sand was far better than the chaos, anyways. The two needing a break from all the voices that seemed to always talk over one another.

"Hold still," He picked up his phone and pointed it at her. "This would look good on my story."

While they sat in silence, digesting the dinner they had just finished not too long ago, Mingyu couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked under the soft orange and yellow hues of the sun that had dipped halfway into the horizon – illuminating her face in a new light.

Both metaphorically and literally.

Without a second thought, the girl listened to him – holding her pose of looking straight into the shoreline, a soft smile on her face. "Lemme see." She held her hand out as he handed her his device. "Send this to me."

Mingyu swallowed as his heart battled with his brain to do the unthinkable.

Maybe it was the fact that they had spent the whole day alone, acting as though they were still around their friends – pretending.

Or the fact that this his trip had given him a glimpse of what his life would be if they were actually together, the flirting, the hand holding, the soft whispers, waking up to her in the morning; the sweet moments he yearned for.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was because he's been wanting this for so long – unable to hold off any longer.

"Bug?" Her head tilted to the side, seeing the gears turn behind his eyes.

There goes that nickname.

The one that they have sworn to use just as part of the act that soon became a part of their daily vocabulary. Even when it was just the two of them.

"Let me just–" His mumbled, leaning down – which wasn't hard as they were already only inches apart, capturing her lips in his.

She didn't pause.

She didn't push him away.

In fact, she kissed him back.

Bringing a hand to cup her face, Mingyu moved his lips against hers slowly. He had been dreaming of this for a while now, and he could have sworn he thought their first kiss would be much rougher – thinking he would be hungry for her lips.

But this moment was delicate. He knew that it could all come crashing down the minute he pulled away, so he proceeded it with caution – his thumb caressing her cheek as his tongue swiped her bottom lip for permission.

She allowed it.

Mingyu's head was spinning at this point, wanting nothing else but to stay in this moment forever.

But he knew he couldn't.

They needed air.

Pulling away, Mingyu swallowed; preparing himself to receive an earful from her.

Instead she sat in silence, blinking at him.

He had fucked up.

"I'm sorry." He croaked.

Mingyu knew that if he wasn't the first one to speak up, she would let the tension swallow them whole – leaving them to drive back to the hotel without uttering a single word to each other.

"I think we should head back." She cleared her throat, scooting towards the moon roof they had slipped through.

"Hey–" He placed a hand on her shoulder.

She turned her head, lips pale. It was clear that she had regretted what had happened, a lump forming in Mingyu's throat as the worst had finally come.

"What?" Y/n asked softly.

"Just wanted to see if you were foaming at the mouth." Mingyu joked. "Since I have rabies and all..."

A small smile formed on her face, a wave of relief washing over him. "You're so fucking stupid." Y/n ducked into the car.

"No rabies?" Mingyu called out.

"Get in the damn car, Mingyu." She called back.

They were going to be alright.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

For the first time in a while, she was confused.

She should have listened to the voice in her head when it had warned her that pretending to date her best friend was a bad idea.

At her ripe age of twenty six, she should have known this would happen.

Maybe it was the close proximity, or the fact that they had spent the whole day absentmindedly pretending to be a couple despite none of their usual audience being around, or maybe it was that he kissed her.

No.

They made out.

Either way, her mind was in a mess.

It wasn't like she's never had feelings for him before.

But the last time didn't count.

They were in high school — and everyone had a crush on him.

It was tiny crush that she had soon gotten over when she met her first boyfriend.

But this time was different.

There was more on the line.

Their friendship, their whole group's dynamic.... and Seungcheol.

The man who had been the main reason why she was in this predicament in the first place.

A part of her wanted to dismiss the moment atop of their car as a moment of weakness, the sunset and island hypnotizing the both of them.

Besides, it was Mingyu. He had plenty of girls in line, waiting to get a chance with him.

He must have simply been caught up in the moment.

If it was anything genuine, he would have acted differently instead of jumping back into the sense of normality as they drove back to the hotel.

But no, he made a joke out of it all.

It was a mistake to both of them.

But another part of her wanted it to be real – falling into the trap of their own acting.

While he had excused himself to the hotel gym, to work out with Joshua and Soonyoung, y/n was left with her thoughts – wanting nothing more but to silence it all.

She didn't want Mingyu, even if his actions was everything she wished for in a man.

It was– It had to be Seungcheol.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts.

It was as if the universe read her mind, opening the door to see him standing with a plushie in hand – nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"Hi." He greeted softly, holding the t-rex stuffed toy out. "I uh– it reminded me of you."

If her mind wasn't a mess before, it sure was in pure chaos now.

It reminded him of her.

She recalled back to the one good week they had. No fighting, no tears, no mixed signals.

She had come down with a nasty cold and he had doted on her while she was bed ridden – staying over at her apartment to nurse her back to health.

They had spent that whole week binge watching all the installments of Jurassic Park, cuddling on her bed despite her protests of not wanting to pass whatever virus she had come down to him.

He didn't care for it, showering her with kisses.

"Thank you." Y/n accepted the plush.

She picked up on his nervousness, stepping aside to let him in. "Is everything okay?"

He nodded, bringing his hand to scratch the back of his neck – trying to find the right words to say. "I– I want to say sorry. For all of it. The pain, the confusion..... I– I'm sorry for being a dick."

"It's fi–"

"It's not." Seungcheol shook his head. "I had some senses knocked in me and–"

Y/n watched as he licked his lips, pacing in front of her before he came to a stop.

"It's you." He breathed. "I– I choose you."

Her world came into a halt.

The metaphorical glass shattering.

"What?"

"That night, when you asked me to choose, I– I shouldn't have hesitated. I should have stopped you. I'm sorry." He continued, pain evident in his eyes.

He was being genuine.

Y/n tried to search for any signs of lies on his face, unable to comprehend the words that left his lips.

This was the moment she had finally been waiting for, but why was she so afraid?

"I know an apology can't fix it. But if you'll allow it–" Seungcheol hesitantly took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. "If you'll take me back, I'll spend however long trying to prove that it's you."

taglist closed

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[pantheresssy]

Good Hurt (Abby Anderson/ Reader)

Part 2 here.

Synopsis: Abby wanted to keep it casual. You didn’t. Drowning in your feelings for her, you had no option but to try to get away from her sight. That’s when you meet Ellie Williams.

warnings: slightly angst and fluffy ellie, probably ooc!els too.

Everything should be different in college. You would live the life you always dreamed of. Studying what you love, being responsible and no longer depending on your parents for anything. Your golden years.

All that matters for you was learning and getting the best out of classes, to really learn what you liked. And in the first months, that’s exactly what happened. You were a great student, always having great grades and fell in loving more and more with where you was at every day. But someone showed up, — someone that made your perfect little world collide.

Abby Anderson, a student that you had heard about but never really saw. She studied on the other side of the campus, your friends had told you about how she was beautiful, giving you details of her that you never thought it was possible to see. It took you a while to figure out for yourself if she was everything people talked about; smart, hot, beautiful, a bitch. But when it happened, your expectations were proved.

She hadn’t liked you at first. The looks she gave you were prove enough that, if she didn’t hated you, she had some sort of problem with you. Abby didn’t had as many friends as you did, always walking around with a guy named Owen that took classes with her. Your friends had told you that he was the only one she trusted, and that’s why she was all skeptical every time someone new came close. So you tried to be the best version of yourself until she looked more… open to talked to you more than the usual ‘good morning’, ‘i’m fine’ and ‘have to go’.

It took you a full month to get close, and one more for her to make sure you were someone cool. Abby was sweet after she let go of her protective barrier. She helped you with your homework and you did the same for her. She gave you the best conversations you ever had and seemed to be truly interested in what you had to say. Even though it took more than smiles and introductions for her to consider someone a real friend, with you it wasn’t the same. Since the day you made an effort to talk to her more, you had considered her one.

Something had changed along the way of this kind-of-friendship. You didn’t know when, only realizing it when she was sitting by your side and you looked at her, noticing every trace of her. Her nose, the freckles that fit on her cheek and spread across the rest of her face, her eyelashes, her chin. You had never looked so carefully at another person as you did at her in that moment. And when she turned to look at you, what had changed inside you came out. Your first kiss with her. Abby. The girl who didn’t like you at first, every girl's desire. Your newly discovered friend. Happened.

From that day on, she became all you could think of. Abby wasn’t complicated. She treated you better than any of your previous girlfriends had and was genuinely interested in you, not in what you could give. At least you thought so.

In your mind, what you had with her was real. She was your girlfriend, even without her ever asking you to be. The way she looked at you and the way you looked back told you that her feelings were as strong as yours. The kisses and the way she adored you showed that her love was as deep as yours. Your euphoria grew each time; you couldn’t get her out of your mind and body. She was everything you ever wanted and, at the same time, everything you never had. Until you were confronted by the circumstances.

You were having lunch with her, looking and listening to her as if she held the world. And she was doing the same. Flirting was common to you, something you two developed over time, and you knew she liked it if her smiles were any indication. But when Owen arrived at your table, she changed. It was like turning a key in a closed door. In a second, she held nothing but indifference. She had never acted that way before, so cold and distant all of a sudden. Not even when she first met you she was acting so rude. But you let it slip, thinking that she wasn’t ready to show any type of affection in front of anyone yet.

Whatsoever, your hopes were crushed when, not long after, she did it again. It became common: every time that someone showed up, she acted like nothing was happening. Later, you noticed that it was even more common when Owen was around.

You could hold quiet until a certain point and when n she reached it, you felt it was time to start to make questions. “You’re seeing things where you shouldn’t,” You were doing it, trying to take from her something other than empty answers.

“Shouldn’t I?” You asked, your voice going up with your indignation. Abby’s shoulders tensed, knowing what it meant. “Every time someone’s around you change. Especially when Owen is.”

For the first time since you started to questioning her, she turned around. Now face to face, you could see the anger in her eyes and her white fingers of squeezing the pen she was holding. “What does he have to do with your paranoia? You're not making any fuckin' sense.”

“Every single time he’s around you change, Abby. I know you don’t like to be so close to someone around others but… when it’s him,” You swallowed, your eyebrows frowning with anguish. “It’s like going back to day one.”

Abby crossed her arms. “Again, you’re seeing things where you shouldn’t. This is fuckin’ bullshit, Y/n. Stop being such a baby.”

You rubbed your hands on your face, squeezing it against your eyes until you saw stars. “I’m trying to have a real conversation here, Abby. Just tell me…”

“I just did it! You want to keep creating those stupid situations so you have a reason to do this.” She pointed between you.

The indignation you felt only increased with every word she said. “To do what? Trying to fix something I think is wrong? Trying to find answers for what I saw?”

Abby went silent for a second and her eyes met yours. You kept staring at each other for a few moments before she said anything. You were tired of fighting with her. “Nothing is broken. I’m not broken. But if you keep doing this, Y/n, it will be.”

You sighed. “I’m sorry for thinking that you’re ashamed of me, that you don’t want anyone to know what we have.”

She was looking for something on your face, taking her eyes to your mouth and back to your eyes. Trying to read you, that’s what she was doing. “Nobody need to. I’m not your girlfriend.”

It was like a stab in your stomach. Reminding you this caused more pain that you imagined. “Because you don’t want to,”

“And still you keeping putting names and wanting things that I don’t feel the need to.”

Three. Four. Ten stabs. This time in your heart.

You nodded and pressed your lips together, looking away from her. The purse you brought was thrown on the floor and you were quick on picking it up, wanting to leave there as fast as you could. “I’m sorry, Abby. I’ll never made the same mistake again.”

And then you left, beating the door behind you and promising for yourself that you’d never go back there again — but complying would be more difficult.

——————————————

“She’s not here, Y/n. Calm down.” Dina, your friend, told you while handing a glass for you. You knew she was right. Abby wasn’t someone to go for college fraternity parties, but you still feared that she all of sudden changed. She did it with you, she could do it now.

Letting your worries go away, you relaxed against the counter and kept staring at your drink, taking a few sips at now and then. You weren’t in the mood for drunk people and loud music, being too focused on your mind. Dina thought it was the best for you and you gave her this vote of confidence. When you arrived there, however, you regretted it at the same second. It was too loud, too bright. Even though it was a place for your mind to be filled with so much information, you couldn’t stop looking at the crowd secretly hoping to see her.

You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but you were trying to let her out of your mind and heart.

As the days went on, you found yourself sinking even more into your studies. Your world started revolving around your classes again and you were happy to have something to distract yourself until bedtime. That’s when everything got more difficult.

While lying in bed with your eyes closed, trying to chase sleep, your mind spun with thoughts. This was the worst part of the day — where you had nothing to worry about, leaving room for anything that wanted to show up. Since that day, it’s been Abby. You didn’t want to, but you couldn’t control it. She was all you had for so long, the one who was by your side and shared everything with you, from your bed to your meals.

Dina realized your problems and suggested several solutions that eventually stopped working. That’s when you saw no other way out but to go with her to that party in a desperate attempt to prove to her that nothing would work, that you just needed to be left alone to recover. She was the best friend you had, but her stubbornness knew no limits.

While you were there, feeling pretty bothered about the situation you were in, you didn’t notice when she left your side. You only saw it when she returned with someone holding her hand. “Y/n, this is Ellie,” She said, pulling the girl closer by the wrist. Ellie smiled.

“Hey,” You said, trying to return the smile but it came out as a grimace, your lips pressed. You knew you might seem a little rude, so you tried to make up for it with words. “Nice to meet you. Wanna sit?”

Ellie let go of Dina’s grip and sat by your side. She wasn’t looking directly at you, but you could see the corners of her eyes blinking to you. “You’re not enjoying this, are you?”

You laughed. "Yeah. Dina really wanted me to come, she wouldn't give up until she made it happen." Taking a sip of your drink, you continued, "I'm just... dealing with a few things that are bothering me."

Ellie bit the inside of her cheek. She wanted to ask why, but she didn’t know if she would get an answer or a 'fuck off'. "Do you have classes with her?"

"No, I'm studying journalism," You replied and she raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What about you?"

Ellie adjusted on the bench, leaning one of her arms on the counter. This way, she was facing you with the upper part of her body. “English language and literature. I’m a writer.”

You looked at her with more interest. “What do you write? Book’s or…?” She shook her head no.

“Songs.”

When she told you that, you realized. She looked like someone who would write songs, those romantic ones that could make any girl fall to her knees if one of them were inspired by her. Ellie had soft features, with eyes that were gentle, the kind that could make anyone fall in love at first sight.

You locked eyes with her and gave a more genuine smile this time. "It's a surprise, although you seem like someone who would write them. Are you some kind of Taylor Swift type of writer?"

She made a face. "No, no. I compose all kinds of music. Romantic, pop, anything."

Squinting at her playfully, with a hint of disbelief in your eyes, you replied, "That, I can't picture."

Ellie laughed and shrugged, looking at her hand hanging off the counter. "Why's that?"

“I don’t know, you just seem like someone who wouldn’t do it.” You said, running your eyes up her body stopping – again – on her eyes. “I imagine those songs like the clichés that are on the soundtrack of movies.”

You and Ellie faced each other for a second, the moment being broken when you turned your attention to your almost empty glass. "I'll show you my notebook then, if you want to."

Silence, and then your response. “I do, yes.”

As she continued to talk about her work, asking you about what you like and genuinely listening to what you had to say, you forgot about Abby for a while. Ellie was involving you in a conversation where you were really enjoying every word you said. And for that, you felt grateful.

Good hurt. That’s what Abby became on that few moments. A good hurt that would grow again once you were left alone.

And part 01 of ‘casual’ is finished!

i wonder if ‘English language and literature’ is right, in my country it’s a different word. I’m sorry if this is wrong or anything else is, my english is not perfect (yet).

plsss tell me what you think abby would study!!

taglist: @pinkpanther-44, @elsmissingfingers, @sofi4v13.

[jolapeno]

arepas

javier peña x f!reader

summary: when you’re single, it’s complicated. messy. he can’t think straight. Not as straight as he needs to be to keep his wits about him.

an: dedicated to the wonderful, the amazing @halfmoth-halfman - i told you that i'd write you something, and here it is. I hope it makes you smile as much as you make me smile. word count: 9.3k (sorry, not sorry) warnings: developing feelings, slow burn -> colleagues to friends to lovers. usual jo angst, but with lots of banter. fingering, p in v, angst, sweet ending, spoilers for narcos season two.

friend noun /frɛnd/ a person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically one exclusive of sexual or family relations. "she's a friend of mine."

It starts in Bogotá. 

His eyes rake over you—the new pretty secretary who won't meet his eyes as though you’d heard all about him. 

It's why he waits. Biding his time before gracing your desk. A file in hand, leaning down—forcing your eyes to meet his. Javi's smirk almost eclipses his face, only doing so when you lift your chin and he finds your lips have slid so far up one side as you stare at his hand.

Agent Pe— I know who you are, Peña. Your reputation precedes you. Good things, I hope?  Depends on who you ask. 

You call him Peña all the time. Even as days slip into weeks, even if he insists you call him Javier or Javi. The tension building, thickening—just like a dish left on a hob. 

He’s used to the whispers, but he’s not used to the ignorance. The way you don’t look at him like the others, instead always trying to find out what he needs from you, rather than what he wants. 

It allows him the chance to study, to watch. Noticing the way you work, the way you converse easily with others and how you walk around the office like you barely notice him. 

It wasn’t through a lack of trying why he hadn’t worsened his reputation. It wasn’t fear of fucking you, of muddying his place of work further—his focus, mission, objective wasn’t to keep the piece inside crumbling Colombian walls. It was more that the fact his usual tactics weren’t working even when his intention was there, clear as the sky on a sunny morning. 

You seemed stressed. Aren’t we all, Peña? I know how to get around that… I’ve heard. 

It’s not that your tongue is quick or icy—it’s that you do it all without looking at him. You bite back without lifting your eyes or turning to him when he stands beside you. An indifference he had usually woven under in the time you’ve been here, but finding troublesome with you. 

So, he tries smiling when smoke swirls around the ceiling fan, and you drop a file off; he drops his voice when he bumps into you by the water machine, holding your sight—commanding it. Which is why he notices the irritation simmering in yours. Growing, and grating more so by his mere breath, never mind his words. 

You don’t like me much.  I don’t know you.  You could. Know me.  What would be the point, Peña? You don’t listen, you interrupt everyone, you fuck everything with a pulse— Tell me how you really feel, hermosa.  I’m trying, but once again, you’re only half listening. 

Determined—that’s how he was often described. 

It was, for this reason, that he has poured so many of his years into catching Escobar. Why he’d looked for whores to get information, not banking on caring and emotions. It’s why he hadn’t looked for anything outside of a quick fuck, a friend, or a sense of belonging—he didn’t have another ounce left in him. It was all spent on the reason he was here: narcos. 

There had been others, naturally. Not all bent to his charm, even if the majority did. He should add you to the list, to the small pile that had amassed through the building and beyond. 

Javi doesn’t. 

And it doesn’t get better, easier. You decline his invites for drinks, even if you do begin to aid him. You refuse grabbing food for lunch with him, even if you have started taking paperwork off him to type up. You’ve even begun making comments, funny ones about his typing abilities, even shooting him a smile as you travel back to your desk. Yet, you don’t even let him drive you home when your car isn’t working. 

Purposefully, you’re a bag of mixed messages. Not because you decline him but because he cannot find a rational reason as to why. You’ve begun moving his paperwork up, but you flirt back. Flimsy, thin excuses find your tongue quicker when he invites you to drinks, not even just with him.  

You’re confusing. A brand of difficult he hadn’t had the opportunity to circle before, something which bothers the shit out of him. 

Which is why he’s coating his throat in whiskey—getting through his pack of Marlboro’s quicker than he usually would be in a bar like this. 

Because, while he doesn’t get you, he hates work functions more. Despising with each growing minute that he’s at one. 

He prefers to choose his company—paid or unpaid. And the sole reason he’d even gone in the first place was to get you to stop calling him Peña—and to keep the CIA away from you. 

He ends up being successful at one of those things. It’s not that he wasn’t sure how to befriend women, just that he usually chooses not to. He ruins any possibility of it by turning on the charm, having their blouse in his fingers and his hand stuffed in their lace. Even for all his charm, it is hard to get them back on his side when he doesn’t call them, or mistakenly calls out the wrong name or avoids them. 

It’s why he knows his name is dirt amongst several secretaries. He’s aware of how gossip spreads like wildfire amongst the secretaries, receptionists, file room assistants, watching it happen as their eyes glisten when he walks past, their whispers dropping an octave when he is within ears reach. 

You don’t partake in it. Digging your pretty eyes into him rather than fluttering your eyelashes. You can put those puppy-dog eyes away, Peña. I’m immune to putas. You can wait like everyone else. Chin lifting at the last second, smothering him in stifled stress and a please-don't-push-me-look. It’s how he learnt you were going for drinks with the CIA, how he discovered the bar and time. 

Why he went in the first place. 

It crossed his mind this could be the night. He could keep you company, find a way in when your wall was down because of the liquor on your tongue. The moment fizzled when he chose to be a gentleman—helping you into his car, guiding you into your place. Even holding your hair back as you vomited the contents of your stomach out. Maybe he should have warned you about doing shots with Jacoby in the first place, but then, he wouldn’t be alone with you. 

See the way you put your weapons down and looked at him pitifully when you couldn’t get the key in your door.

I’ve got you, Bonita.  Bet you say—hiccup—that to all the whores.  You’re not a whore.  No. No, I’m not.

He’d expected you to push him, fight him once inside your place, but you were silent. Occasionally frowning with glossed-over eyes as he continued to help you. You even allow him to help you to bed—without so much as removing his clothes. He’d been almost out of your bedroom door when he heard it:

Still gonna call you Peña, Peña. I know, bonita. There’s a glass of water on your table. 

It played on his mind. 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t be chivalrous, just that it was rare. Stuffed down into his tight jeans and under layers of Colombian grief. While he cares about the people in his life, even the ones at arms reach—the ones he pays and the ones he takes home from a hard day—he doesn’t show it. Keeping it tightly wrapped and away, not willing to let simple and futile emotions blur the lines of why he was here. 

So it surprises him when you leave him a thank you. 

A small note on his desk attached to a bottle containing amber and a large packet of Marlboros.

Still think you’re an asshole, Peña. 

It was the worst thank you note he’s ever had, yet it made him smile. Unthreads annoyances of his day, sewing in a piece of niceness in a tapestry of shit. 

What he did know is that the window of sleeping with you was growing smaller, only fully shutting on him when he uncapped the bottle and poured you a glass when you knocked on his door for his signature. The small office he resided in—all dark, simmering with disappointment and failure after another dead end. Not that you commented on it—even if your eyes narrowed and your lips spread thin. 

You were polite like that. Didn’t call into question or hold a mirror up to him. Just let him be. Tapping your glass against his, his eyes watching as you take a sip—not hissing, not flinching as the taste slides down your throat. Not even when it collects somewhere in your stomach. If anything, you smile. 

Running his hand along his chin, letting his eyes roam as you take in the walls—the files. Your glass teetering on your bottom lip, painted in a shade he wanted staining on various parts of his body—

“Surprised you’re having a drink with me, Peña,” you say, all airy and light—glancing over your shoulder, shining him in mischievous twinkles. “Especially when you could be… paying for better company.” 

He snorts at that, lets a laugh escape—puncture the air. “You know, you bring it up so often, bonita. I’m beginning to think you’re jealous.”  

“Not in the slightest—I don’t do one-night stands.” 

“Two night stands?” He muses. 

And you smirk. Gloriously. Wide and large, the closest he’s gotten you to smile. “If it’s good enough to go back again, why stop at twice?” 

He struggles for a retort, the acidic nature of it being swallowed by whiskey as he raises his glass to his lips. 

Then it shifts the conversation. Returns to normal, safer topics, finding he snorts a few more times as the drinks flow. Even finding you pull a rich laugh from him—one that erases some of the tension, unknots his shoulders from his ears. 

It isn’t until he hears the sweetness of your laugh that he finds that a quarter of the bottle has gone. The paper you’d come in to have signed, still at the top of a forgotten pile. 

You weren't looking, having already turned your back to him, eyes fixed on the wall—the little pins and photos. Allowing him to run his eyes along your back, to your clothe-covered hips and the curves that had been front and centre of his thoughts when he fucked his fist. Your name has been simmering on his tongue for weeks, since you’d been introduced.  

Something stopping him from acting on his thoughts, from standing up and coming up behind you. That very thing being the foundation of what he’d been after from the start. 

“Am I still an asshole, bonita?” He asks when he finally signs the sheet. 

You take the paper, offering a softer smile with a head tilt. “We should drink in your office again. You’re less of one in here, Javi.” 

“It’s cheaper.” “Cheaper?” You groan, and he slides his hand over his face to hide his smile.  “Fine, Peña—“ “Javi. Come on, bonita. We made progress.”  Glaring, you straighten your spine. “Javi, I wanna eat greasy food in a baggy t-shirt and watch shit TV that I can only partially keep up with. Do you want to do that with me?”  How could he say no? “Do I have to eat greasy food?” “Yes. It’s the law.”  Snorting, he picks up the file, tapping the end of your desk. “I’ll be there around nine.” 

You’re everywhere. 

He begins finding you at his favourite food stand, conversing with the owner, grin so large it hits your eyes. Another time, you’re at the shop on the corner near his place, brown bag in hand, a knowing nod sent his way when you pass. 

It throws him off, continuing to do so until it changes, and he comes to expect you. Doesn’t brace or freeze, but welcomes you. Leaning into it that you’re there, everywhere he doesn’t expect you to be. Slowly, bleeding across his life, planting yourself in the soil he hadn’t known surrounded him. 

Your name falls from his lips with simplicity, you call him Javi as though it’s all you’ve ever called him. 

Things shifting, changing just like the temperature in Bogotá. He chooses to sit beside you when he spots you at the bar, and not close to the table who were giggling and whispering at his arrival. He opts to ask you for help, over the secretary who has been giving him heart-shaped eyes since she heard something or another. 

Javi is smart, and isn't an idiot. He knows it has shifted. Changed. 

For the better, he isn’t entirely sure. 

He finds comfort in you in a way he doesn’t usually pay for. The desire to fuck you because you were attractive lessening, and rather because, on some level, he suspected he actually liked you. Especially when you invited him for drinks at yours, instead of a bar. 

It was easier not to question it. To not change. To not ask and ruin it. He went round to yours, or you to his. A gap forming, welcomed and strong. Javi fucked who he wanted to fuck, and sought companionship (fully clothed, a glass of liquor variation in hand) from you. The contents of it shifted depending entirely on the situation. Sometimes, it was accompanied by home-cooked food, and sometimes he brought warm trays in a bag that you groaned in appreciation upon arrival. 

Javi told himself you reminded him of Laredo. Of high-school friends and easy laughter. You reminded him of girls who never became more than friends, the ones he’d grown apart from when they settled and married, and he ran as far away as possible. 

That and he just liked your company. You made it easy. You were his… Friend. 

You were something different than what he had with Carillo. Something other than the partnership he was now bedding in with Murphy. 

You had embedded yourself as much in work as you were out of it. As time ticked on, his brain slowly filled with useless information about likes and dislikes in a drawer in his mind, he marked just for you. They weren’t things he usually didn’t care to know about anyone. Not since he’d been in Colombia. Not since he’d been in Laredo, where he’d never been short of a friend to two. 

Being your friend became a thing he suddenly wanted to cling to. Not wanting to lose it—lose you, not wanting to fuck it up. 

So, he didn’t. 

Even if you looked at him with pretty eyes, dragging your tongue across your bottom lip. Even if sometimes the silenced humming with something different, something less friendly. 

He cared. 

Really cared. He found himself annoyed if you seemed a little off, and found himself wanting to make you smile. The two of you spread past the line into an area out of his usual wheelhouse. Friendship. A relationship that had him around your place so many nights a week, tucking into spirits and beer you’d begun keeping just for him. It was normal. Nice. 

Or it was, until you curled into one side of the sofa, him on the other. Your foot isn’t close to his thigh, no leg draped over his—your behaviour not like normal. 

He’d put it down to another shit date. One he’d been tortured with hearing about—the only downside to the arrangement, the friendship. 

But, as you wrap your fingers around your calf, he realises it isn’t the date, the bad food or the day. 

“Being your friend is kinda hard.”

Frowning, he sits up a little more. “Why?”

You shrug. He doesn’t like it when you do. You have answers, usually quick ones. A shrug meaning you don’t or you’re afraid of speaking them—letting them ball and fester in your throat. 

“‘Cause you do thoughtful shit, and it makes me think things.”

He bites his smirk, and savours it. Knowing and understanding more than he can acknowledge as he folds his arms. “Not a smart move, thinking about me, hermosa.” 

“Don’t I know it.” 

"Bonita...."

"Why'd you call me that?"

You don't ask it rudely, more questionably. Brows knitting together in confusion as you watch him.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Not in the slightest."

He smirks, letting out a sharp laugh. "Go get another drink, bonita."

“So, the two of you haven’t… you know?” Leaning in the chair, he stares at him. “No. We haven’t.” “I don’t believe you?” Smirking, he shifts his hips. “Go ask her. She’ll say the same.” He snorts. “You’re telling me you go round her place, have fun, laugh, and leave—I don’t believe it.”  “Believe it, Murphy.” 

It’s hard not to call back to the words spoken that night. 

Let them loop around and around, wrap themselves around other phrases—micro-expressions and bothersome avoidance. 

Your eyes were dark, chin resting on your knee, looking at him as though you wanted to burn everything to the ground. He’d swallowed, and hesitated—two things he never did. 

But with you, he wasn’t exactly himself. 

You had found a way to unlock a part of him he kept away from everyone else. He was still an asshole, still selfish and cocky. But he also bit back more around you and found ways to annoy you playfully, rather than to piss you off. 

“Here.”

“You bought me a book?” 

He smirks, gripping his arms as he watches you turn it over, “You like reading.”

Smirking, you scan the blurb, your brain trying to translate it quickly. “What gave you that impression?” 

Shrugging, he trails a finger across his bottom lip. The signature smirk started growing, spreading, eclipsing whatever was there previously. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, hermosa. I see you reading on your lunch.” He looks you up and down. “Thought you could do with some fresh material.” 

“So you bought me a romance book.”

Dropping his arms, he rolls his lips. “Everyone needs a little romance in their life, don’t they?” 

“Well, you’re the expert. I hear you’ve been getting some “romance” nightly,” you smirk, placing the book down.

He had. 

Almost determined to do so. Needing to bury himself to the hilt in others to distract him from you. Secretly thinking of you, trying to imagine the way your skin would feel under his calloused palms. 

“Jealous, bonita?”

Smiling, you tilt your head. “Why? I’ve got a romance book.”

He tries to tell himself he’s not affected by you. 

That it’s protectiveness why he sits at the bar in the restaurant you’re in. Why he chooses a seat where he can see the reflection in the mirror behind the liquor bottles, able to see you without watching you. 

He tells himself it’s to ensure you’re okay. Nothing else. The convincing goes well until your finger taps him on the shoulder, practically dragging him outside by his elbow. 

The cooler temperature bites his skin, but your eyes full of fire keep him warm. Digging into him, inflicting flames that lick at muscle and bone.

“Why are you here, Peña?”

He masks a shudder. “Don’t… don’t call me, Peña—“

“—you fucked all the whores?” 

“I was drinking.” 

Raising your brow, you fold your arms. “You’re ruining my date.” 

He lets his eyes drop. Knowing he is. He knew he would when he scrunched the piece of paper in his hand as he overheard you talking about some black dress and little heels for it. 

The same ones you’re standing in front of him in, looking nothing short of radiant—the slightest shiver misting over you.

“You deserve better.”

Folding your arms, you sigh. “What, like you?” 

He runs a hand over his chin, leaning against the wall. “No, bonita. Better than me.”

You bite the inside of your lip, the shiver more obvious. So much so, he removes his jacket, considering draping it over you, but instead hands it to you. 

“Look, I know I ruined your date, but he’s an asshole.”

Swallowing, you let out a heavy breath. “I’m mad at you, but… he really is awful.”

He smothers his relief. Ensures his tone is normal as he murmurs, “Yeah?” 

Nodding, you bite your lip. “Can you… could y—“

“Go get your bag, hermosa.”

It’s quiet, the car ride. 

Your knee nervously bounces, the fabric of your dress rising up your thigh as you do. 

He’s being tested. He’s sure of it. Adamantly so when he pulls up outside yours, and you invite him in. It’s confirmed when you tell him to help himself while you change, stepping into your room. 

A version of him wanting to follow. To place his hand on the back of your neck, the other tilting your chin up, kissing the name of your date tonight. Pulling your body close, making it forget it ever shivered from anything less than pleasure. 

He thinks about it as he fills his glass, and keeps yours empty. Javi thinks it as his jeans become tight and his pulse quickens, wondering if you sprayed your perfume anywhere other than your neck and wrist—whether you’d taste as sweetly as you say his name. Whether you’d dig your nails in when he stuffed you full of him—

“Not pouring me one?” 

Blinking, you’re in his T-shirt and some leggings. 

The former is something you’d borrowed when you’d spilt food on your blouse. A band tee, one from a concert when he was younger and happier, and less confused what the fuck all of this meant. 

He hadn’t realised how much he had been holding himself back until you sank onto your sofa, looking serious—brows and forehead creasing. 

It made him want to nurse it out of you, find a solution to stop you from worrying or overthinking. 

“You’ve never tried to sleep with me.” 

He scoffs, loud and undignified. The sentence catches and cuts through the air. All the letters of it punctuated by a thin silence, lightly chopped—not allowing interjection or regret. 

You're waiting. 

Nervously. Plucking your bottom lip between your white teeth like you’re picking guitar strings. 

He considers telling you the truth. That fucking you had been the sole and only intention for a long time. Seeing if you could bend in two, what noises you would make—see if he could get you to chant his name. 

That had been his goal… until it wasn’t. 

Javi drains his glass, knowing you’re astute. That you work with agents of all kinds—you hold your fucking own around all sorts of them. So you know (of course you know) when someone is lying—so he offers something else entirely. 

A slither of truth, an offering of it—if that. 

“Didn’t wanna fuck this up, bonita.”

You take a sip of your own, not smiling, not smirking. Silence thumps between the two of you as you likely process the information, both in word form and in heavy silence. Then you land your eyes on him, something blossoming in them, spreading and taking over as they seemingly darken like the sky before a storm. 

“That because you don’t think you could make me come, Peña?” 

He spreads his palm against his jeans, resting the glass against his other as he drags his eyes to the floor. Biting the inside of his cheek. Wondering to himself why he’d stopped trying so quickly, knowing he was usually much more persistent. His perseverance was why he was still here, hunting Escobar. Yet, he’d folded like a piece of fucking paper when it came to you. 

“Fine,” you commented, placing your glass down. “If we… don’t want to fuck this up. I think we need a codeword. An unsexy one. One that sorta tells the other to stop doing whatever they’re fucking doing….”

“Because…?” 

You give him a look, a sharp one with soft edges. “Because we’re friends, right?”

He nods. 

“So, as friends, I need a word to shout at you when you’re… Peñaring.” Frowning, he watches you smirk. “Javi, you’re handsome. And I spend… I spend more time with you than anyone else. The whole time I was on that date, I was thinking of you—and then there you fucking were. Being my friend.” 

No. He thinks. 

Knowing inside of him he wasn’t there to be your friend, but something he can’t quite acknowledge. A thing which vibrates inside of him, that gallops when you’re around and worsens when you’re not. 

A thing he cannot give into. Not with what he does. 

Not with what happened to Helena… 

The remembrance, the horrid wake-up call that continues to paralyse him. The larger need to keep you safe. 

“You like whores and quick-fucks. I like fucking one person who will only fuck me while they’re fucking me. And, I need the word—a word—because we spend a lot of time together, and you look like you do.” 

His lip twitches, his moustache moving as he drags his eyes back to you. Unsure how you haven’t thrown it out there that you looking the way you do is also a problem.

As though you’re ignoring how fucking sinful you always look—especially in his fucking clothes. 

He doesn’t because, if anything, he doesn’t hate the idea. Not immediately. Somewhat struggling to hide the way you make his cock twitch when you flirt, when you lean on his desk, the top two buttons undone on your blouse. That he sometimes fucks and wishes it was you and not the woman he’s chosen. 

The two of you toeing the line of being friends to the point it sometimes makes his head hurt and his cock throb. 

“What you got in mind?” 

“Apuñalarme?”

He shouldn’t be surprised you’d thought of a word. Always methodical, always thinking ahead. 

“Thinkin’ that one could be taken the wrong way.”

Frowning, you reach forward for some of the leftovers. “How?” 

He stares, and then he swallows. “Well, I could stab you with my co—“

“OKAY. Fine. Who knew it would be so hard to pick a word to keep our friendship intact? What about… arepa?” 

Taking a sip of his drink, his brow slowly arched.

“Well, it’s food—“

“Food can be sexy, bonita.”

“Yes, but if I said arepas, I don’t think: fuck me, Peña—I think fuck I could really eat some stuffed arepas with my friend Peña. Plus, we can then use it around people, ‘cause they’ll just think I’m after food.”

He plays with the glass, staring at your coffee table as he takes it in. Considering it. Finding it plausible—a good enough excuse. A thing to say other than ‘I don’t wanna hear about you going on a date, bonita’—probably around the same as you don’t wanna hear about his conquests. 

You’re nervous, teeth picking at your skin. 

Something blooming in his chest, smothering warmth across his heart and skin. You want to be his friend—you want him in your life. 

“Alright, bonita, let’s give it a go.”

You pout, sighing. “You driving me home?” “Arepas.”  “Funny, Peña. So funny.” “You made the rule, bonita.”  Rolling your lips, he watches as you fold your arms under your dress. The fabric flows, blowing around your legs. “I can make this hard for you.”  “That so?” He should have guessed it from the smirk alone.  “I’m not wearing any underwear,” you say, pulling on his door handle and stepping in before slamming it.  Leaving him processing, eyes staring at where you’d just been standing.

It became complicated in Medellín. 

The routine, the lines—the friendship. 

Everyone is forced all under one roof. The closer proximity means he has to listen to how the others talk to you, how you smile, and how you laugh with every single person. He can’t avoid your laugh—especially the ones you force from bad jokes. Javi has to listen to how others talk about you and how they describe the way they look at you. 

He also has to deal with how your perfume simmers in the air here, how it lingers and clings, even if he does his best to drown it out with smoke. 

In truth, he knows he is just annoyed that you’re even there, to begin with. And, not in Bogotá—where you would have been safer. 

And, as annoying as he finds it, Javi supposes you must suffer through your fair share. His eyes catch yours when someone has called for him, his voice low, a smirk halfway up his face until he sees you ducking your head. 

At the end of the first few days, he realises he misses his evenings with you back in Bogotá. Now, he has to share you in the open office space or hope you’re both free to go to one of the shitty bare rooms you’d both been given. 

Yours at least was more private, Messina having fought for you to have your own as soon as you were relocated to her. 

“Jealous, Peña?” “Yes, hermosa. You don’t have to share with Murphy.”

It worsens when he learns you’re single again. 

You populate his thoughts all over again, having previously stifled them when he knew you were taken. Now that the few month-long situation-ship with someone from the president's building had ended, he found you half a bottle of wine down in your room with several sad Spanish songs. 

When you’re single, it’s complicated. Messy. 

He can’t think straight. Not as straight as he needs to be to keep his wits about him. Before, he could convince himself that flirting is just how the two of you talk. He could comment slyly how he could give you a reason to be silent or him unable to tear his eyes off you when you bend down to get him something from the bottom shelf. 

Even if you’re taken, he thinks arepas repeatedly as you look up at him with wide eyes and gloss-covered lips. But, it’s harmless when you’re unavailable—a foundation of who the two of you were. Now it was confusing again. 

Especially when you begin wearing tight jeans. And you wait until Murphy leaves to pull his chair across and place a bottle on his desk. 

“I need to get drunk.”

Blowing into a spare mug, Javi slams it down next to the bottle. “We can’t leave the base.”

“No, we cannot.”

“Any reason as to why you wanna get drunk?”

You uncap the bottle, glaring at him as you clamp your lips together. The sound of alcohol sloshing into the mug before you begin pouring him one. 

“Hermosa…” 

You take a mouthful from the mug, flicking your eyes to him as he leans back, whispering your name.

“I’m frustrated.”

“Messina busting your—“

“Not like that, Javi.”

It takes him a second. 

A second too long for him, and then he almost chokes on his drink. “Arepas.”

Rolling your eyes, you lean back in Murphy’s chair. “You asked.” 

His thoughts run ahead of him. The idea of pressing you against the desk, hooking a finger in a belt loop as he tugs your tight jeans to your thighs. The way you’d moan his name—not Javier, Javi. Your hands splayed across his desk, taking everything he—

“—so I need to get drunk because otherwise, I’m going to jump someone, because this job is stressful, and I miss my place, my… privacy, and I also miss food truck nights.” 

Swallowing, he places his mug down. 

“I need to have sex—“

“—Arepas—“

“But by someone who won’t lord it over me.” 

You stare at your mug, swirling it—biting the bottom of your lip as you do. 

And he’s all set to tell you that you drive him crazy, that he’d make you feel good—you just have to ask. His hand slides across the desk, all set to tug your hand closer as he mumbles it. 

Then fucking Murphy arrives. 

Him slamming a mug down next to the bottle, muttering about crashing the party as he massages his temple and slides back into his chair. 

It consumes him. The thoughts which he has let run free in the brief moment with you. How he’d fill you and make you hiss his name and make you come undone until you had no thoughts left. 

If he thinks he’s alone, you show your cards when he’s helping you move your bed. 

Your eyes are on him as he leans against the metal frame, staring off as he processes how he will have to move it. He doesn’t notice that the edge of his tan shirt has risen until he feels your eyes on him. 

“Arepas!” 

He flinches, ripped from his thoughts as he blinks, turning to look at you, watching you shift on the spot, a slow realisation coming to him as to why you shouted it. A smirk so large spreading, not even trying to hide it. 

“I haven’t… I haven’t even fuckin’ done anything.”

You fold your arms, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks, the pulse in your ears. “Yes, well… I’ll move the bed myself.”

“Bonita?”

“—I gotta go—“

“This is your room.” 

But you’re already heading to the door, flustered. He calls your name, but you’re gone—leaving him with only your scent and the last trailing sound of your voice. 

For a second, staring at the empty doorway, not hating it for one minute, all of it evidenced by the growing smirk on his face. 

The one not easily rid, even by the end of the day.  

“Your room is…. nice?” He sniggers, grabbing his jacket as you stand awkwardly. “Y’alright, bonita?”  Swallowing, you narrow your eyes when they land on him. Not cutting, but assessing. “Why have I heard from two separate people that they’ve been warned from me?”  Shrugging his shoulders, he slides his arms into his jacket, frowning—painting it on thickly, maybe even by too much.  “Javi.” “What?”  You look at him, challenging him. Looking every bit like the secretary he met in Bogotá and less like the friend he’s come to know you as.  “Did you warn people from asking me out?”  Adjusting his jacket, he sighs. “Yeah. I did.” 

Javi knows many things about you. 

Some he has learnt against his will, others he’s learnt from watching you. One thing he knows, more than anything else, is that you’re never late. Not even if the world was on fire. 

It’s why it coils inside him when he’s standing at the stairwell waiting for you. It chills him, prickles something inside. And then, it knots as his watch ticks on ripples out as more seconds become minutes. 

He must shift, stress rolling off of him as he finds Steve’s brow raised, flicking his eyes up at him before shaking his head. 

“Go on. I’ll let Messina know you’re both on your way.”

He doesn’t thank him, even if he makes a note to do so later. His feet taking the steps two at a time. Palm brushes over people as he moves them so he can get to your door quicker. 

It’s his sole thing, a crystallising focus that glimmers like a goal, a light around your door as he makes a beeline for it. For you. Not slowing or stopping until he’s outside of it, his knuckles hammering into it.

He tries not to smirk at the expletives he hears, the mix of English and Spanish coming from the other side. The beautiful blend he’s heard so often when you’ve dropped food, wine or burnt yourself. 

“One minute—“

“It’s me, bonita.”

He expects to hear a noise. Javi doesn’t expect a pause. A lengthy one.

“Oh.”

Oh? He thinks. 

“Um, Javi, just gimme….”

It bubbles. 

It fucking roars. It produces steam and fire—all of it feeling a lot like jealousy. Because: do you have someone in there with you? His jaw tightens at the idea, almost snapping into pieces, hammering against his feet. He hears a loud crash to the floor, shattering. His mind conjures images of two pairs of feet (at best), two awkward souls trying to move around one another littered by a sea of expletives and hisses.

“Bonita… open the f—door.” 

He doesn’t mean to use a tone. Unable to cage it, the fury which doubles and triples inside of him. Only just about managed to stifle the word fucking from being in the sentence.

Javi regrets it when you rip open your door, standing with more skin on show than he’s ever seen. Your privacy is covered by the thinnest pieces of black lace possible—lace that would be easy to snap, to rip from you as he drags his eyes up and down.

Unable to think; unable to process—

“I overslept.”

“…Bonita…”

“I am running late.”

“I can see that.” 

You jab him, light, making your body twist as you do. Something he can’t tear his eyes from, least of all when you turn, his feet following. It’s autopilot as he shuts your door behind him, not hearing another person—the anger and jealousy simmering at knowing you’re alone. 

You’re just… in your underwear. 

Around him. 

“Arepas.”

“What?” you call out, bending down, grabbing clothes as he averts his eyes. 

His brain forces his feet to come to a stop, his hand adjusting himself as he tries to swallow. Because whatever he’d imagined you’d look like, has just been beaten—you’re… fucking gorgeous. 

“Nothing,” he manages, staring around your place. Finding a bottle of half-drunk wine on the desk—sat beside one glass. “You had a fun night without me?” 

You laugh, turning to face you, finding you with trousers on. “I… I’m struggling to sleep… here.” 

He can relate. 

“How was Gabby?” 

He pulls a face, wiping a hand over his face. “Yeah—she’s fine.” 

You fasten your blouse, moving towards him, closer and closer, until you’re in front of him, and his mind is fucking blank. 

“You’re standing over my shoes, Javi.” 

It shouldn’t stick to him—your words. But they do. How they’re sickly sweet, how they clag and cling to the edges of his mind as he tries to concentrate. He’s typing, and then he’ll replay it, fingers pausing on the heavy keys of the typewriter. 

Fuck. 

Not able to tear his fucking eyes off of you. Not that you have noticed. You barely look his way with the mountain of shit Messina’s given you to do in one day. Hammering down on you, reminding them all they can’t make mistakes—more so since the toilet debacle. The heaviness of how close they’d been weighed on them. All of them.  

So close. 

He watches you stand up, calling after someone as you do a little run in your heels until there’s none of you left to watch. Staring at where you’d been, somehow still flickering between seeing you the way he saw you this morning and the well-put-together version just in here. 

“What’s up with you?

“Nothing.”

Steve snorts, leaning against the wall. “Y’sure?”

“Yeah.”

“‘cause you look like—“

“She answered the door in her fuckin’ underwear.”

Steve widens his eyes, pulling out his cigarettes. “And that’s something you’ve not seen before?”

He glares. Chewing a retort as he furiously stubs out his cigarette. 

“Alright, so, now what?”

“I have no fucking idea.” 

“Your word come in use?” 

He shoots another glare, watching his partner hold his hands up. 

“Not fucking helping, Murphy.” 

“The fuck you mean she was sent to take some papers?” Him storming out of the building, hearing Murphy close behind. Not thinking. Thumb brushes over his fingers as something surges through him. Thumping. Building. Pushing past people, moving out of the way from the ones he comes into contact with, stepping out into the warm air as he sees hell. Men bleeding, carried by other men. His heart in his throat, furiously pounding, unsure where to start, where to go— Then he sees you.  Time slows, people coming to a halt as he watches you and his feet begin to move. His hands guide him past people, walking and walking until he pulls you close—not caring for the blood on his shirt from your head, or the way you whimper when you crash into him.  He meets your eyes, staring into them, finding his throat dry as he brushes your cheek with his thumb. “Arepas.” “Arepas…” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder. 

When it rains, it pours. 

It’s what he thinks as he sinks another glass, elbowing digging into the desk, all set to shout at Messina to leave him alone, suspecting she had returned. 

But then, he’d seen you. 

Face lit up by the yellowing light, a softness to your features and a shyness to your frame. 

Javi isn’t sure what he’s expecting. Whether the guilt would shift at the sight of you, whether the sadness would stop laying on thickly. 

For a second, nothing happens. 

He doesn’t move. You don’t move. 

And then he’s standing, and you’re crossing the room, pulling him close, hands around him as you keep him close. It’s friendly, he thinks—suspects. A simple hug. Something the two of you have done only a handful of times, but twice so recently. 

In the fog of regret and alcohol, he can barely convince himself, his grip on it lost when you’re in his lap. His face in your neck, bathed in you—the distinct scent which clings to some of his clothes, the warmth he feels when he knows he shouldn’t. 

It’s easy, simple—and also everything. 

Shards of himself held in place by your grip on him, his own hand placing the glass down so he can clutch you that much tighter. 

It isn’t him. A thing he’s acutely aware of, yet he buries his face into your neck. Breath dancing along your neck, feeling you still, wondering if you’re thinking the word as he is when you pull back, eyes meeting his. 

“Oh, Javi…”

He chews his tongue, lessening his hold on you. Allowing you to move—giving you free rein to leave. 

“Messina send you?” 

You stand, tilting the bottle beside the glass, staring at the label. Your silence fills the gaps, finding the cracks of regret and guilt, layering itself thickly in it. 

Answer me, he thinks. Almost wanting to command it. 

“Boni—“

“No,” you say, curt, sharp. 

Your eyes dig in, taking a step back, running the back of your hand over your forehead. 

“Didn’t… I haven’t even seen her.” 

He could speak, but it would be useless. No words can conjure that would make any of it okay—heaviness adding in bulk to his shoulders as he stands. Making his legs feel like jelly and his spine wanting to bend. 

And then, he’s walking towards you, your back meeting a wall as he presses you against the wall, keeping you close. Just like you were minutes ago. 

He traces the tip of his nose against your cheek, catching the scent of your perfume. Your eyes are on him, watching his movements as he places his hand on your hip. 

“Arepas…”

He snorts, pressing his forehead softly against yours. “You want me to stop, bonita?” 

Your lips twitch, eyes flicking. 

A thousand thoughts dashing and darting in the shades he has memorised. Then you’re moving closer, mouth delicately pressing against his—testing, teasing. Saying no wordlessly.

It’s easy to return it, to give in—to kiss you like he has thought about since your name fell from your lips. A  thousand missed moments and building will-they-won’t-they slamming into the both of you. 

It’s why it shifts, his mouth not being gentle, his grip more desperate. His tongue sliding past your teeth, your hips flush against his as you curl your fingers into his hair. 

He’s on fire. Scorched. Changed. 

Flashes of you standing in the doorway in your underwear blending with the feel of you right now, how your lips move against his like the two are you well-versed in kissing one another. 

“Dreamt about you, bonita.” 

You murmur at his words, whimpering at his teeth, latching on the space under your lobe and neck. 

“Thought of the sounds I’d make you make….”

“Fuck, Javi...” 

Your nails dig into his neck, pulling and twisting him so you can marry your lips back to his. You kiss him like you want to conquer him, and own him. Something you’ve done since the moment you met—something he responds with how he licks into your mouth. Just pausing at your moan, tasting it—capturing it.

Your lips part as you clutch his cheek, breath ghosting as he lets dark brown wash over you. “I’m here. I’m here, Javi.” 

He knows what you mean, what you’re implying: I’m here, you need someone, I’m yours. 

The sound of him swallowing sounds louder, sharper—even against his ears as he flicks his sight over you. You’re better than it, better than him. You’re too good, too perfect—something he doesn’t want to break, snap or ruin. 

Sometimes, you’re the only thing that feels untouched, unblemished. You were the one who saw him after he’d gotten back from the brothel. When Carillo…

He blinks, finding your fingers still on his cheek, eyes still on him—but he’s unsure if he’s misheard you. Misunderstood. 

You don’t do quick fucks.

But you’re clever. You’re always fucking clever. Kissing him, hooking a finger in a belt loop, pulling him flush. As you show him that you mean it. 

“Need you, Javi. Just you.” 

He growls, moving you to push you down on the awkward, creaking bed. He watches dumbfounded as your fingers begin to aid the removal of your clothes. Exposing skin, inch by inch, to him—looking every bit inviting as you have done since the first day he fucking met you. 

Throwing your trousers to some distant corner, he parts your knees with his waist, pushing the damp green lace to the side, as he coats his finger in your want. 

“Javi…” 

“You suit green, bonita.” 

He eases a finger in, watching your mouth part as he does. 

“But, I can’t stop picturing that black set.”

“Like it, did you?” 

It’s breathy, desperate. Your lips ghost over his as he stiffens, pausing his ministrations, needing to look you in the eyes.

“It’s all I’ve thought about since, bonita.” 

Leaning over, he captures your moan, sliding in another finger as his name vibrates against his lips. Your eyes are so full of adoration, lust and want—it almost shatters him—but it’s the desperation that coils around him. The neediness which is falling from your lips makes him want more. 

He’s thorough, listening to your whines, finding each place inside you that makes you twitch and moan. He’s learning you, studying every inch, so he can please you from the get-go—if he ever gets the chance again. 

It’s his knuckle that undoes you the first time, rolling quick circles around the bundle of nerves which has fingers in his hair and your breath against his cheek. 

Javi, fuck—you, Javi, you. 

His breathing is shallow when you come down, feeling your hands—shaky but determined—tugging him to join you in being naked, his hand grabbing the one thing he needs outside of you. 

“Wanna taste you, but need to fuck you, bonita. Can I? Can I fuck your pretty pussy?” 

You groan, kissing his jaw and his neck. A chorus of yes and pleases bless his skin as his teeth rip the wrapper, fingers expertly sliding it over his length to not waste time. 

And then, your fingers leave bruises as you tug on his chin, pulling his eyes to you. A thought rolls, building; Tell me I’ve not ruined this. That I’ve not fucked up another thing. 

“Yours, Javi. I’m yours.”

His hand clutches your cheek, fingers pressing against your ear and hairline as you nod. His mouth smothers yours, stealing a moan, air and whatever thoughts were trying to populate. He does so as he lines himself up with you, when you wrap him in warm bliss. 

Your fingers on his shoulders, digging in, please move, Javi. And then, his hips move with yours, something swelling inside of him, a thing which makes it hard to stop kissing you, to ever want to stop being between your thighs—

He doesn’t usually fuck like this. 

It starts that way, but never ends that way—and yet here he is. Never with them on their backs, eye to eye, lip to lip. But then, you’ve never been them. You’re nothing like them. 

And he won’t move, can’t. He slides his tongue past your teeth and grips your hip that bit tighter as he feels your walls grip him desperately. 

“Feel so good, Javi—y’fuck me so good.” 

He knows. 

Knows because you’re fucking heavenly—perfection sent just for him. Something he whispers into your lips, lets you taste it as he feels you getting closer and closer. 

Then he just hears you. And the sound is prettier than his mind could ever conjure.

Just feels you. And it's better than he ever thought it could feel.

Then, there's nothing else, until he feels pleasure—until it’s white light and your name spluttering from his lips. Your hands in his hair, hips slowing with his as his lips sloppily find yours.

“We should talk.” You frown, looking over your desk as he leans both palms down. “Bonita… we had sex.”  “A few times, if I recall.”  “You… you seem rather calm about this?”  You smirk, lifting your mug to your lips. “Should I not be?”  He’s silent, uncharacteristically so. Never short of words, not with you. “Javi, I almost fucking died… then Carrillo… I-I needed… I just needed you.”  “Bonita…” “I don’t need pity. Do not worry. I’m not expecting anything, I know you, I’m not complicating this, and I’m not asking to change you. I like you as you are, and I know for you, last night for you was just a one-night thing—”  He whispers your name, wrapped in confusion and surprise— Your hand pats his chest, “—and I’m off to the funeral. Please try not to drown yourself in whiskey while I’m gone.”  “You know I’m not going...” Smiling, you let your fingers linger on his shirt button, twisting it. “You don’t do funerals—it was one of the first things you told me.”  Letting your hand drop before you walk away, leaving him with his thoughts. 

It unravels. 

Looking every bit like the day he’d been running around the ranch, knocking into the table beside his momma’s armchair, watching in horror as spools of cotton spread out. They ran uncontrollably away, undoing in a fit of rainbow shades and mess. It had taken him an age to fix, fingers raw from cotton against his fingers. 

That’s what it was like now—except he wasn’t sure he could fix it.  

If anything, he knows he can't.

He realises it when he tells you. A wave of disappointment ascended and crashed in your eyes until you looked at him with an expression painted in worry. It makes him want to kiss it from you, but your hand brushes his cheek—keeping him where he was, close but not too close. 

Don’t… What? Worry about you? Yeah, I don’t… I don’t deserve it.  Tough, Javi. I’ve worried about you since the moment you bought me food truck food and told me I had sauce on my chin.  Why's that? You just seemed like someone who I needed to worry about.

He wanted to kiss you differently then. Softly—gently. Almost greedily. Show you the words he wishes he could say easily. Let you feel how much he adores you, how much he cares, that he even wants to…  

Javi doesn’t. 

His brain too quick to remind him that you deserve solid truths, not hopeful lies. Tells himself that he’s anything with him will end in ruin, evidenced by the way things keep crumbling, the grip on helping having become closer to hurting. 

He tries to build walls to keep you out, ones you chip out with more force than he bargained for. Your nails pulling at bricks, eyes burning through gaps: Do not keep me out, Peña. 

So he stops. The energy wasted, even if he wants nothing but to protect you. Doing poorly at it—so much so he doesn’t realise you’re even swept up in it. Not in the moments where he comes find you for a moment of reprieve in the swirling hurricane he created.

You look like shit. Tell me how you really feel, bonita. Javi... I'm fine. You're not. No, I'm not.

He could kick himself when he realises it.

Only seeing it when he returns to the base, stopping short of your desk and finds it bare. No mug. No papers. No little notes you write yourself so you never forget a thing.

Bare. Empty.

There's no scent of your perfume and the air is absent of your laugh.

You had always found him, whether in his room, in a cupboard, at his desk. But, he hadn't thought to look for you today. Just put it aside, suspecting he'd find you later.

"Shit."

Sweat pools at the base of his back as he heads to Messina's. Hating himself, wondering if you'd been questioned. He'd never even tried to make sure you were okay with the knowledge of what he had done, what he continued to do in an effort to fix it. 

I’m here, Javi. I'm yours, Javi. 

He knows you are a part of the fallout when he sees Stechner behind Messina's desk.

It confirming it. Almost wanting to cut him off from saying your name—not wanting to hear it from his lips. Stechner says it anyway, as though knowing. Purposefully adding more poison to it and accompanying it with a cold smirk. One which almost makes him grip the man by the arm and land his fist in his teeth. 

You should have stayed in your lane…

Everything tightened inside of him. While everything around him crumbled, slowly crashing down: the walls, the ceiling—the pretence.

It makes his blood run cold, his heart crack right in the centre.  

Ambassador wants to see you. Get your passport. 

Tightening his jaw, he hammers his feet up the stairs, taking them two by two. Needing his room, needing a moment.

His hand rubbing over his face, mind populated with memories—ones both good and bad. Your voice swirling around them. Your smile, your laugh, all appearing before they burst, showering him in a mess of confetti he’ll never be able to clean. One he doesn’t want to, if they all he has left of you. 

He tries to think of his passport. Where it could be. The location of it in the mess of his room—trying not to wonder, worry or think about where you are. What his mess has done to you. 

Opening the door, he comes to a halt when he finds both standing in the centre of the room. 

Time comes to a stop. His heart pausing mid-slam into his ribs, the pain rippling out, as he takes you in. Watching your fingers and hand slowly rise, holding not one, but two passports, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Hi.” 

He lets the door shut behind him, suddenly able to breathe. The weight, the one crushing him for ages, finally stepping up from him, allowing air to fill his lungs, allowing his chest to rise and fall as you softly smile. 

“Bonita… what… how?” 

“I handed my notice in… Messina, she knew about—she advised me, said it would buy me more time. It did—has. Stechner—” 

It takes three strides—three—and even those felt long before his lips crashed into yours, silencing you, not wanting your pretty lips to ever mouth his name. Feeling your hand, the one clutching the passports, against his shoulder and the other on his hip. Pulling him in, wanting him—even still. 

He feels like he’s dreaming, until you bite his lip. Smirking against his lips as the two of you part. The feel of it bringing him back to earth, trying not to overthink it and let the moment ruin.

Javi just holds you—like he should have done earlier this morning when he'd seen you, and from the very beginning.

Pulling you close as he humanly can, for as long as he’s able to. Doing so selfishly until both of you are just staring at one another, the gap so thin between you, you’re not all in focus.

“Ask me.”

His knuckles slide along your cheek, knowing what you’re implying. Something coiling at what you’re suggesting—something he’d thought about days ago. Regretted not asking minutes ago… 

“Javi.” Your fingers wrapping around his chin. “Ask me or let me go….” 

Clearing his throat and licking his lips—sighing. 

Wanting to. Nothing compelled him more. But the wounded part, the one which is sore and raw, tells him not to. To put distance, space, time—and fucking everything else—between you both. 

To protect you. To love you from afar. 

“Be with me.”

Smiling, you whisper, “Please?” 

“Please,” he adds, a light smirk threatening to spill. 

You let your fingers slide over it, the little crease at the end of the hair on his upper lip. “I’m yours, Javi. All yours.” 

“You have to know what that means, bo—”

“I already know,” you cut him off, fingers dancing along his cheek. "I don't care."

an: thank you for reading, feel i should apologise for the length ha!

[randomfoggytiger]

The Evolution of Gillian Anderson's Friendship with David Duchovny

Early friendship:

He was an experienced actor when they started The X Files, she had been receiving unemployment benefit and had been in front of cameras only once before.

And she admits: "I desperately needed someone to show me the ropes and David did. He was wonderful."

There were rumours of a secret romance, which would have got them both fired on the spot. It is a strict studio rule that there will be no intimacy between the stars - off screen as well as on.

But Gillian did find love on The X Files, in the shape of assistant art director Clyde Klotz. And she did turn to Duchovny for advice after acting spontaneously on her wedding night, taking no precautions and finding herself pregnant.

She was horrified, believing she would get herself fired and ruin her career.

[“I went into his trailer,” she recalls, “and I said, ‘David, I’m pregnant.’ It looked like his knees buckled.... And he asked me if it was a good thing. I said, ‘Yeah, it is.’]

But her co-star, who was the only person she confided in apart from her husband, put Gillian's mind at ease.

He advised her not to have an abortion - that things would work out. And they did.

He kept her secret while Gillian thought things over for a month.

1995:

David Duchovny is not happy.....

Anderson, sensing Duchovny’s mood, looks down at his hand on her left shoulder and tries to brush it away, as if it were a mosquito. Then she turns and jumps into his arms, laughing, looking like a little girl making trouble for a protective older brother. Startled to be holding her, the smile on Duchovny’s face is forced no longer.

...“We really trust each other,” Duchovny says simply.

There is, between these two, a real-life camaraderie born of necessity, a friendship strong enough to survive too many work hours, and a chemistry powerful enough to rearrange the atoms on-screen. “Whenever we’re acting together,” says Anderson, “it’s there.”

1997:

But in real life, Duchovny and Anderson have a relationship as much a conundrum to outsiders as any X-File.

“We have a relationship that is completely odd and fabricated,” Duchovny says. “We’ve been thrown together, two people who don’t know each other, and we’ve been forced to spend more time together than married people do. So you can’t describe our relationship as ‘like’ or ‘dislike.’ ”

Sounds a little frosty.

“It is frosty,” Gillian Anderson agrees when she is read Duchovny’s description of their relationship. “But it’s accurate.” She laughs. “It’s not that we don’t like each other. It’s complicated.”

2008:

Question: Can you talk about getting back into these characters after a five or six year period?

David Duchovny: The first two weeks I felt a little awkward and I didn’t really feel like I wanted to do longer scenes. I was just fine running around. Then as soon as Gillian and I started working and it was Mulder and Scully, then I kind of remembered what it was all about and that relationship kind of anchored my performance just as I think the relationship anchors this film.

Shock: What’s that like with David now that you’re not with each other 16 hours a day on a series?

Anderson: It’s great, but it was great then, too. This is like a sibling relationship and I never had siblings.

What is your favourite thing about each other?

Duchovny: Gillian just doesn't give up.... She'll hang in there 'til we get it right.

Anderson: ...The easiest answer, I guess, is his sense of humour. He's always looking at the funny side of things, especially when he's around other actors who are comedians or funny themselves - it can turn into a bit of a contest to see who does the best impressions and such. But aside from that, there's a gentleness inside him that comes out every once in a while that is quite disarming and lovely. It's rare, but very nice.

2014:

Q: Was there a sense of almost a bunker mentality where you were at least going through this process with David? You mentioned he had more experience, he had done some bigger films but still the phenomenon that emerged within the first couple years was pretty remarkable. Did it help to have him there too and kind of like “Are you getting this too? Are you going through this too? Is this weird?” 

A: No. No, not really. We talk about the fact that it’s crazy that we didn’t. And that we didn’t take advantage of the fact that we had each other but it was complicated. These were long hours that we were working. We spent more time in each other’s presence than we did with our, you know, spouses and children, etc.

But also, you know, I think we p***ed each other off, quite frankly. And I have no doubt that after they’re waiting – we’re gonna roll and somebody has to come in and redo my lips and the difference between the maintenance for guys and gals and we’re shooting in all weather – you know, we never shut down except for one day for weather in the entire show.  We were shooting up in Vancouver through rain, sleet, everything. And my hair would frizz up to here in between takes and they’d have to get the blow dryer out under the tent and we’d be waiting for Gillian’s hair to do another take. You know, that p***es you right off. It adds up. So I, you know, I’m sure there were plenty of things he did that p***ed me off too. It just wasn’t, you know, but on the other hand.. NOW, we get to talk about that and we’re probably closer than we’ve ever been. 

2015:

Not surprisingly, she and Duchovny also became the story – according to the press, they were having an affair, hated each other or both. “I mean, yes, there were definitely periods when we hated each other.” She starts again. “Hate is too strong a word. We didn’t talk for long periods of time. It was intense, and we were both pains... for the other at various times.”

How was Duchovny a pain... for her? “Erm ...” Ten seconds pass without a word. Meanwhile, her smile gets wider and wider till it’s halfway up her cheeks. “I’m not going to get into it. I’m not even going to begin to get into that. But we are closer today than we ever have been.”

2016:

Anderson on working with Duchovny “Our relationship has definitely become a proper friendship over the last few years. I think we’re more on each other’s side. We’re more aware of the other’s needs, wants, concerns, and mindful to take those into consideration— and just sharing more about our experiences in the moment, under the sudden realization that we’re both in this together, and wouldn’t it be nice if it were a collaboration?”

2018:

They've worked together for 25 years but Gillian Anderson wants to make one thing clear: David Duchovny does NOT feature in her Ex Files.

While on screen their relationship left viewers wondering whether they would ever hook up romantically, Gillian says that off camera they were never very close.

In fact, she goes so far as to admit: "I don't know much about David Duchovny. If you asked me 10 things about him I'd probably get nine of them wrong."

...But now Gillian sets the record straight, saying: "We were never close. It's true we spent more time together than we have in any other relationship but it doesn't mean we were close.

"Very often when you're working long hours you may have a chit-chat between scenes but you're not really standing around talking about personal lives.

"And very often you don't have meals either at work or outside of work together because you're in each other's company all the time.

"So I actually don't know very much about David Duchovny, but we appreciate and respect each other."

2021:

Stella made a new friend today.

2023:

A huge congratulations to my old friend @davidduchovny on the world premiere of his film Bucky F***ing Dent @tribeca which he wrote, directed and stars in! A massive accomplishment and can’t wait to see it. (ps I’d say some of your prior writer / director gigs with me went pretty well and this was all just yesterday, right? 😉) #Tribeca2023

2024:

Awww Double D I’m so sorry. He was your guy. RIP Brick Duchovny

Lastly but not least,

a comment from David, 2024:

"My former X-Files costar Gillian Anderson and I are really good friends. ...When you share a seminal kind of experience in your life-- the huge success we had with that show-- only we know what it's like to be in the center of that. It's almost like being in the same family...."

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

I try to keep my reader generic but as always she is female and taller than average.

I have to say I've been a bit overwhelmed at the response to this story, I hope I can live up to your expectations.

Chapter 2

Warnings: swearing, angst, a little dirty talk. Bucky's kind of an ass, Sharon is evil.

Cookie just stared at the pictures, heart racing, almost hyperventilating. She shook her head and looked at Nick Fury "This can't be right, can it? Sharon Carter can't be working against us, can she?"

Fury looked at her, concern evident on his face. "I'd like to think it's impossible but look at what happened with Hydra. We knew that Rumlow and the strike team were on our side and it turned out the entire operation had been rotten for decades."

Cookie tried to still her hands "B B But th this, this is different. Sh Sh Sha Sharon C C Carter. SHIELD founder P Peggy Carter's niece can't be the Power Broker." She felt her stomach drop and heart stop when it clicked "Oh god, no she can't but b b but Sam and" whispered "Bucky" the color left her face and she started pacing, bouncing until Nick snapped

"COOKIE!"

Y/N jumped and turned to face her boss "Yessir?"

Nick rubbed her arms "Calm down. You're no good to me like this. Barnes and Wilson are off site with Carter, right? Where are they, exactly?"

Cookie nodded "uh yeah they're um, wait let me see." She pulled her phone out "they should be, Latvia." She exhaled and it felt like she was deflating "Where my informant was killed last night."

Fury nodded "I doubt she wants to kill Wilson or Barnes so we just need to get this info to them. You'll probably have to wait until they come home."

Cookie shook her head "But what if she kidnaps them? What if they don't come back?"

Fury shook his head "We'll cross that bridge if we get to it. I need you to compile everything you have that's even vaguely related to the Power Broker and anything you can find about Carter's movements. Let's see if we can find more links between them." He looked at his watch

"I want you in my office for lunch and we'll go over everything you have." He looked her in the eyes "Alright, Cookie? I know you're concerned about your friends but we need to keep our minds clear and focused on the facts so that we can help keep them safe."

Cookie tried to blink the tears out of her eyes and nodded "Got it, boss." before hurrying to her office by way of the break room because coffee was a dire need at this point.

She made it to her office, closed the door so no one would disturb her, turned on her music and sat down to go through every bit of Intel she had that might offer any clues. There were stacks of correspondence and photos plus some undefined amount of info on a thumb drive that she needed to work through with the only other analysts she absolutely knew she could trust, Dylan and Iris. She had trained with them and came up through Quantico where Nick Fury personally headhunted them.

Cookie didn't want to take a chance by getting too many people involved in this, after the whole SHIELD/HYDRA debacle she kept a couple of people close and everyone else could wait outside her gates until they convinced her they were trustworthy. This was huge and had 2 Avengers directly in Sharon's line of fire so had to be handled carefully.

Cookie also knew that her frayed friendship with Bucky was going to make this even more complicated because Sharon could use that to discredit her so Bucky thinks Cookie is just trying to eliminate a romantic rival.

She shook her head, no time to get distracted by emotions, her friends were in danger and that had to remain her focus. By 1pm, Cookie had synced almost all of Sharon Carter's movements with the power broker. There was no doubt, it was definitely her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of the world, Sam was fed up with his mission partners. Sharon rubbed him the wrong way and Bucky was too wrapped up in her to see anything but sex. Sam had a bad feeling about Sharon, she was constantly wandering off only to be found on her phone and the Power Broker seemed to get away right before they arrived, every single time.

He tried to talk to Bucky but he just laughed it off, explaining how impossible it was for a Carter to be the bad guy. "Sam you're being ridiculous and paranoid even for a spy. Sharon is just as frustrated with our lack of progress as we are. You know sometimes this is just a waiting game." He smirked at his friend "We could find you a nice girl to pass the time with."

Sam shook his head and scoffed "A nice girl? You mean like Cookie for instance, who wouldn't try to distract me with sex like yours is doing to you."

Bucky laughed "You jealous man? I'm just making up for lost time and Cookie didn't want me." His smile dropped as he thought of her.

Sam looked at Bucky with wide eyes "Cookie didn't want you? Now we both know that's not the truth, you just got scared of the idea of a real relationship and dropped her for your living cock sleeve. You're a dumbass, Barnes."

Sam's phone buzzed with a text and he smiled when he saw it was from Cookie. She always checked up to make sure they were eating and sleeping while in the field. He looked at his texts

*<3 BeSafe*CYA*

That caught his attention. CYA= Cover Your Ass. It was their code for trouble close by which meant she found something concerning but the problem was too close to say out loud.

Bucky tried to look over his shoulder "What's that? From Cookie? You fucking her?" His voice dropped and he looked angrily at the ground "I knew she would find someone better."

Sam looked at him with disgust "The fuck is wrong with you? The only reason she might find someone better is cuz you pushed her away when you should have held on tight because you're not gonna find another one like her."

He nodded towards the hall where Sharon had gone "That one is trouble. There's something not right about all this and the way she keeps dragging you off to the bedroom."

Bucky smirked "I can't help that she's insatiable. Don't want to disappoint."

Sharon was in the other room listening to their discussion, smiling at how easily Bucky stood up for her. It was simple enough to get his attention when she came back to work with SWORD and he did all the work pushing Cookie away with his guilt. She was confident that he would take her side if that analyst bitch got too close. Sam could be a problem but nothing she wasn't prepared to handle.

She used a burner phone to send a text to her associate, the Intel analyst in D.C. to let them know she would be returning stateside soon and everything was going according to plan.

In the morning Bucky woke up in bed with Sharon's head on his bare chest and groaned. The position he was in wasn't a concern but he didn't remember going to bed or the usual activities with Sharon that followed. He couldn't remember anything past his talk with Sam, about Cookie. He didn't remember eating but he must have since it had been almost lunch time when he spoke to Sam. If he hadn't eaten he would be famished by now.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus and see if he could find any memories but all he could add was Sharon coming into the room and pulling him into their bedroom.

He looked at his watch and counted hours, he had lost almost 18 hours and couldn't figure out what happened. This wasn't the first time he had lost time on this trip and he didn't like the feeling.

Sam was right, something was off.

Sharon started to stir against him "Hey baby, look who's up before me."

Bucky smiled "Mornin baby, you sleep ok? Did we have some fancy liquor last night? I can't remember a damn thing, not even fucking you for 2 hours and I'm sure I did that."

She whined "I'm that forgettable? I thought I made you feel good." and pouted, rubbing his growing cock to distract him.

He reached between her legs to find her ready "You're always so wet and ready for me sweetheart. Tell me what you need."

Sharon moaned "I need you to fuck me, Barnes. Hard and deep. Right now."

Bucky was only too happy to oblige, the lost time forgotten in their haze of lust.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In her office Cookie and her crew worked well past lunchtime until an intern showed up from Nick's office to remind them of the passage of time.

Cookie put all of the papers and photos into a box since they hadn't had time to digitize it all and write up a comprehensive report. She went over every single detail with Nick and Maria to determine what should go in her report and which points to highlight for field agents.

The rest of the day and into the evening Cookie's team had everything organized and the details and evidence all written up in a 5 page report with back up documentation available in her files. She looked up when her phone buzzed to see it was Sam responding to her earlier text

*👍🐴☔*

She smiled knowing that Sam got it and would watch out for Bucky even if he was a dumbass.

Looking at her watch she saw it was almost midnight and noticed Iris trying to read her text before she quickly put her phone away. Iris and Dylan were her most trusted analysts but even they didn't need to know about her chatting with Sam.

She dismissed them so she could have a bit to herself to reply to Sam and include some details that they didn't have the clearance for.

A few days later when Sam, Bucky and Sharon arrived back home, Cookie was there to meet Sam and barely even acknowledged Bucky or Sharon which made Bucky act out, snapping at Sharon. Sharon was annoyed that he still cared about fucking Cookie, after all the work she had done to get him under control he was still pining for that stupid analyst. She knew something would need to be done about her soon.

Sam and Cookie walked arm in arm to medical to have him checked out, then to the common room when she had left some chili simmering for him plus fresh French bread. They took their lunch and went to his room to eat.

Cookie sat across from Sam while he talked about the mission until the food was gone and he stopped, just staring at her.

Cookie stared back "What?"

He looked at her sideways "First, I love you Cookie but you look like Hell. You're worried about me in the field but you're here looking like you haven't slept or had a decent meal in weeks."

She flinched before whispering "Closer to months."

"No, Cookie. Don't destroy yourself over a man that's too stupid to see what's right in front of him. We need you here. Nick fucking Fury insists you're the best intelligence analyst he's ever met. Ever. From the man who doesn't offer praise lightly.

I need you. I can't trust anyone else to lay all the intel out just so it flows for me. Or make sure I'm taken care of when I come back from a mission?

And his dumb ass might not know it or be willing to admit it but Barnes needs you too. He's in love with you, he just thinks he's being good and noble by pushing you away. And if he doesn't figure it out, there's plenty of other men and women that would jump at the chance to be with you. So take care of yourself."

Sam sighed "Second, I know you didn't send the CYA code for shits and giggles so tell me. What do you know?"

Cookie shifted uncomfortably "I want you to know this has nothing to do with their relationship, I didn't look to discredit her or hurt him but you know I have to follow the evidence where it leads me, without prejudice. You know I-"

Sam stopped her "I know you are impartial and I trust you and your conclusions so just spit it out and we'll go from there. Ok?"

Cookie nodded and took a deep breath before blurting out "Sharoncarteristhepowerbroker" then covering her mouth and looked at Sam with wide eyes.

Sam stopped and stared "Please tell me you didn't just say what I think you said. Tell me that she's-. Fuck." He shook his head "I know you have proof. Cookie, you have to tell Barnes."

She blinked rapidly trying to clear the tears that suddenly welled up in her eyes "Nononono, no I can't tell him. He will think I'm some disgruntled woman trying to hurt my rival. You have to tell him Sam he will never listen to me. Hell he hasn't even spoken to me outside of work ever since...."

Her eyes filled up and she tried to hold the tears back but she had been keeping it all in for so long.

Sam pulled her into his chest and sighed "Alright. Give me what you have, I'll talk to him tomorrow. And what's with all the containers of Cookies?"

Cookie shrugged "I was worried about you. Couldn't sleep. I made some of your favorites, the red velvet. The frosted ones are *special* to help you sleep."

Sam hugged Cookie and kissed her cheek "Alright babygirl, lay it out for me..." They spent the next hour going over everything she had before her eyes started drooping. "Okay Miss Cookie, go get some sleep and I'll see you at the debrief tomorrow."

Cookie gathered her paperwork and left Sam's room only to see Bucky in the kitchen. She didn't want to ignore him so nodded and grunted as she passed without slowing down. Bucky just watched her leave, wondering what she was doing in Sam's room so late.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After their run the next morning Sam and Bucky sat down for coffee. Sharon told Bucky she wanted to sleep in so Sam figured now was the time.

Bucky started in on him before he even spoke "What's up with you and Cookie? You are fucking her aren't you? I saw her leave your room early this morning. Don't fucking lie to me jerk."

Sam brushed him off, "None of your damn business."

He tried to change the subject and explain about Sharon but Bucky didn't respond well

"What the fuck do you mean Sam? Sharon is not the goddamn power broker, that's ridiculous, her aunt was a founder of SHIELD. Where did you get your Intel from?" Sam looked at him pointedly, like there was any other person who Sam trusts completely.

Bucky shook his head angrily and stood up to head to Cookies office. "I can't believe you fell for it Sam. She's just trying to get Sharon back because she is with me. I turned her down for a relationship so she wants to hurt me back. Sharon warned me that she would try to pull something like this."

Sam stood up and grabbed Bucky's arm "Are you kidding me? You think Cookie would put her career and reputation on the line for petty jealousies? That she would ruin Sharon's reputation for revenge, over you? I guess you don't really know her after all." He shook his head "I'm disappointed in you man. I thought better of you. Good luck confronting Cookie, she's not interested in your shit."

Cookie was at her desk making packets with the Intel on the power broker for the top brass when Maria stopped by.

"Hows everything, Cookie? Got that power broker packet for me?"

Cookie nodded "It's right here." and reached out with a folder.

Maria noticed her hands "Cookie? What happened to your nails? When was the last time you had a mani-pedi? Is your girl sick?" She looked over Cookies hands in concern, she never missed her nail appointment.

Cookie shrugged "I don't know, I forgot. It's no big deal."

Maria looked closer "You look like Hell. Finish the packets up and take the afternoon off, you need-"

"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"

Chapter 3

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes