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happypopcornprincess · 19 hours ago

Text

Chapter 1 || I Can See You

Pairings - Joaquin Torres X fem!Reader

Premise - At a glamorous gala, Y/N's life intertwines with Joaquin's. A pact ensues, while a dangerous mission looms.

Word Count - 2.8K

Warnings: SMUT, Angst, Mentions of blood, domestic violence

a/n - This story is based between the events of Endgame and Brave New World. In this AU, Tony Stark survived and the New characters of the MCU are on the way to be the new recruits of the Avengers. Hope you guys like this <3

Series Masterlist

Avengers Compound, Post Endgame

If it wasn’t for Pepper to quite literally threaten you to attend her Annual Charity Gala, you wouldn’t even be here. The atmosphere around you was straight out of some high society drama. The grey walls of the newly reconstructed avengers compound were covered in silver tones, a huge silver chandelier hanging in the middle of the hall, there was laughter in the air, and everyone was dressed to the nines.

Just how a party was supposed to be… when the host was the one and only Pepper Potts. Tony was there too, even though his hand was still recovering from the snap, but he was cheery and loud as always.

You sipped your champagne in silence, standing far away from the dance floor.

You were chosen by Sam from MIT to help the Avengers. You had trained with the new recruits, Kate, Peter… They were good kids. Training with them was… well, it was something. Sam was great, and helped you all adjust. Honestly, the Avengers? They were intimidating. superhuman intimidating. But you had your strengths. Sharpshooting was always your thing. And you threw yourself into the training, every single bit of it. They told you it was for intel missions, to keep you out of direct harm's way. But that wasn't enough. You wanted more. Because you were not aiming for 'safe.'

You were aiming to be an Avenger.

Your job was to figure out how Kingpin just vanished into thin air after Christmas. The task has taken over your daily routine after you met Kate Bishop. It’s been months of interviewing eyewitnesses, going on the streets undercover, nights of no sleep with a shit ton of coffee, and just when you think you’re about to solve it… you meet a dead end.

“Trying to hide behind the curtains again are we y/n?” Bucky’s voice made you look to your right, and there he was. Standing next to you wearing a sharp three-piece black suit, his hair slicked back.

You finally understood what Steve meant when he would say girls back then would throw themselves at Bucky.

He turned to you in disgust, “Are you checking me out?”

“You wish, asshole.” You mutter in your glass.

You and Bucky had developed an unlikely friendship after the blip bought him back. He was pardoned, and moved into a quaint apartment complex deep in the city, unknown to the fact that you lived right next to his place.

On a stormy night after the nightmares won’t let you both sleep, sharing one bottle of whiskey between you was all it took for you to spill your life to him. You have turned into each other’s best friends and occasional love life advisor, although it was kind of a package deal.

Which is why you knew the reason he was so dressed up for the first time since you met.

“You see Sam anywhere?” he asks you nonchalantly.

You give him a sly smirk, “Why? Can’t wait to shove your tongue down his throat?”

Bucky gives you a sideward glance, and goes back to looking at the crowd.

He was still figuring out his feelings towards both men and women, especially towards one man.

Returning from the Flag Smashers situation, he would not shut up how ‘annoying’ and ‘frustratingly righteous’ Sam Wilson is, how his smirk makes him want to ‘strangle’ him.

You asked him one evening if he was having a ‘full-on-bi-panic’ and he threw a pillow at your face.

“y/n! there you are!” Sam bellows as he walks towards the two of you, wearing a crisp grey suit over a white button up, looking as dapper as always.

“Sam!” you laugh, giving him a tight hug. He was your mentor, someone you looked up to. And hopefully your bestie’s future boyfriend.

“You look absolutely gorgeous!” he threw you one of his classic smiles as he retreated.

You look down to the pastel pink knee length dress you were wearing.

Hustling the life of an avenger straight out of MIT, it was the only dress you owned. And after paying for it out of your own pocket you realize fancy dresses cost a hand and a leg, and you refuse to part from it.

“Thank you Sam I-” you were about to thank him but stopped once you noticed him absolutely gawking at Bucky.

“Hey Bucky.” He smiled.

“Hey Sam.” Bucky gave him a nod.

You almost roll your eyes at the exchange, wondering when they will move on from the weird talking phase.

“Hello.”

An angelic voice interrupted your train of thoughts. Looking away your eyes meet a pair of the warmest brown eyes. He was standing behind Sam. A tall, tan-skinned man, wearing a crisp black suit stood in front of you. His curls fell on his forehead, and his smile was intoxicating.

He looked like a high surf tide; calling out for you to test the waters.

You extend your right hand, smiling at him. “Hey, I’m y/n”

He held it with his right, it made your heart race when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, his hands warm and his lips soft, sending a jolt through your body.

Oh, he’s mischief alright!

You were left speechless when he straightened, a smirk thrown out your way as Sam spoke up, “This is the guy I told y’all about! Lt. Joaquin Torres.” He slapped a hand on Joaquin’s back, smiling with pride.

“And this is y/n y/l/n, fresh transfer from MIT. She’s our tech genius, and a walking journal on film recommendations.”

Laughter followed as your eyes couldn’t help but stay trained on Joaquin. Thinking back on the time when Sam told the team about the new Falcon joining them after a while, you somehow manage to speak up at that moment, “Welcome to the circus.” You take a deliberately long sip of your float, never breaking eye contact.

He gulped nervously, eyes wide, clearly startled by you flirting.

“You haven’t had a drink yet Lieutenant? Let’s get you something.” you smile involuntarily.

He stands back for you to lead the way, “Sure. And it’s just Joaquin, please.” he laughs just after, his honey laced voice paired with your tad bit hazy mind doing wonders to your imagination.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/--/-

They keep watchful eyes on us So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet You won't believe half the things I see inside my head Wait 'til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet

“Wait a minute…” you smiled, “you cannot possibly think Love Actually is better than The Holiday?”

“It’s the perfect rom com!” Joaquin laughs, “it covered basically every rom com trope under the sun.”

“But, listen to me, but…” you say, your slightly tipsy self leaning on the wall behind you, as Joaquin stood in front of you, holding his own glass of whiskey, “Quantity never matters in front of quality. All characters in The Holiday are well written with meaningful backgrounds and great character redemption arcs. And it’s got Jude Law.”

Joaquin raises his hands, “Jude Law.”

“Jude Law.” you laugh, at how he was mocking a defeated pose.

“When Sam told me I can’t lose a movie debate with you, I couldn’t believe him.”

You try to curtsey, “thank you.”

“Wanna get out of here?” Joaquin blurted out abruptly.

It took you a while to gain your consciousness, and a laugh left your lips at what he just said. You saw his eyes traveling to your lips, and how his breath fastened as you took a deliberately long sip of your drink.

You smirked, “sure.”

—/—/—

You find yourself sneaking through the backdoor and upstairs towards the living quarters of the Avengers compound as you drag Joaquin by his coat as you slip into an unassigned room. The furniture was still uncovered, but there was a couch in a corner right next to the opened windows where moonlight pooled in.

Perfect.

The alcohol surging through your system gives you newfound courage, and seconds later Joaquin was being thrown on the couch by you. His pupils dilated, his gaze trained on you and his scent lingering in the air, you straddled him without hesitation.

“Are you good?” His breathy voice went straight to your core, and without a word you crashed your lips on his.

He’s gonna be the death of me.

The taste of expensive champagne hit your mouth, Joaquin’s tongue slipping in your mouth sliding in with fervor. Your gasp is swallowed by his lips, his hands travelling south towards the zipper of your dress.

Your hands fumble with his coat, taking it off of him and raising his shirt just enough to slide your hands underneath. Warm, toned muscles met your hands, and the way he sucked your lips made you forget everything. You couldn’t breathe, but couldn’t move away from him either, entirely lost in taking him in.

Joaquin jerked back all of a sudden, making you whine.

“Wait, wait…” He breathed out, his breath cooling your skin.

“Just kiss me.” You exhaled, grabbing his tie to pull him in, but he leaned back.

Joaquin gently held your wrists, “y/n… hey, look at me,” he breathlessly said, “look at me for a second.”

You do, at his messy hair, puffy lips, and blown out pupils.

He holds out his hand, “how many fingers am I holding up.”

You scrunch your brows in confusion, eyes drifting to his fingers in front of your face. You get the tunnel vision every time you’ve had a bit too much whiskey, you see double.

Concentrating hard on your answer, you slur out, “four?”

Joaquin closes his eyes, looking up and huffing out a breath, “you’re very drunk.” You feel his hands on your waist, and he carefully sits you down on the couch next to him.

You whine at the loss of his touch as he gets up from the couch. He returns a minute later with a bottle of water, sitting next to you and making you drink the entire thing.

“Can we go back to the part where you kiss me until I forget my name?” you breathe out.

Joaquin laughs out, settling down next to you and leaning back on the couch. You straighten your dress, and sit with your shoulders touching. You steal a glance his way.

His coat was gone, his tie hung loose on his neck, his white button shirt straining on his arms…

Someone works out…

The faint moonlight hitting from behind him made the outline of the veins on his neck visible.

I want to lick it...

You scrunch your eyes as soon as you hear that inside your head.

Wow, he’s right, I am drunk.

“As much as I’d like to do that,” he looks your way, “I can’t. You’re very drunk.”

A smile itches on your face, and you ask, “so what should we do then?”

“Talk?” he suggests, turning to you, resting his head on the backrest and looking you right in your eyes. “I know nothing about you. You know nothing about me. Let’s talk.”

You laugh out loud, “okay,” the smile refusing to leave your face, “what do you want to know?”

“Anything.” he says with a warm smile on his face.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You wake up in an unfamiliar room and a blinding headache, on a mattress too soft for your liking, the sunlight hitting your face with full force.

Grunting, you sit up, rubbing your forehead.

Something slips off your body, and you look down and find someone has covered you with a black suit coat while you slept.

The man with the warm eyes and gentle touch.

You laugh, rubbing your head at the absurdity of the situation.

You wear it over your dress and walk out of the room, after last night’s party everybody would be sleeping in. You can sneak out unnoticed.

You swiftly call an uber, and shove your hands inside the pockets of Joaquin’s coat.

The feel of rough paper makes you stop in your tracks, you take it out of the pocket to see a torn piece of labeling paper inside, a note greeting you.

9546-555-6783 See you soon, I guess? (Take care of my coat till then? It’s my favorite suit.) - Joaquin

-/-/-/-/-/-

You brush past me in the hallway And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya? I’ve been watchin' you for ages And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it

Joaquin joined the team a week later. He chose to stay on the compound, and soon blended in with the new avengers. Peter and Kate grew especially fond of him. When Shang-Chi joined the ranks, he, too, was welcomed into your close-knit circle.

You spared during training, made breakfast together, had constant debates on cinema and stories. He loved the classics, and you had a nick for science fiction. You should have cancelled out each other, but your differences only made your bond stronger. The differences weren't a barrier; they were a bridge. You shared tech skills learned during your time at MIT, revealing the details of coding and circuits. In return, he shared practical knowledge from his air force background; survival techniques and tactical strategies.

Your apartment, though smaller than the compound's common areas, became the gathering spot for your group. Lazy weekends of your teams were spent at your place, you'd watch old movies, host game nights, and then collapse on any available surface.

Peter had a habit of entering your apartment through your window, and Kate never got used to it. Takeout was a foreign concept with your friends. Instead, Shang-Chi and Joaquin would take over the kitchen, making a mouth watering combination of asian food and mexican food, that could best possibly win them masterchef if they ever could.

These people, this band of young individuals navigating life… they became your chosen family. They were your support system, your confidantes, your partners in crime.

No one seemed to notice the stolen glances, the lingering touches, the quiet conversations that stretched late into the night. Or perhaps they did notice, and simply didn't care.

-/-/-/-/-/-

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Clouds grumbled above, as angry raindrops splattered on your apartment window. You were sitting on your couch with three devices settled in front of you: a laptop and two tablets running algorithms and analytics for locating kingpin. Kate had gathered intel that he still had someone in the states giving him updates and keeping him safe. But where?

That was a question you were determined to get answers to. Which is why you had made it your mission to get to the base of this.

Amidst the thunderous rain outside, you hear a knock on the door, and from the corner of your eye you witness Joaquin enter, carrying takeout containers.

“You’ll have to use the fork for the noodles, I just ran out of chopsticks!” you shout, without even looking at his direction.

“Y/n” Joaquin huffed out in frustration, “please tell me you didn’t ‘sense’ Thai food from me.”

“I did.” you laugh, looking at the bewildered Joaquin standing in your kitchen. He had jeans and a sleeveless gym shirt on. Involuntarily your eyes went to his toned arms, and you did a quick diversion of your thoughts to the TV.

”I come bearing sustenance. Chow Mein and Thai green curry, extra spicy, just how you like it.” he says, followed by the scrunching of the takeout container.

You sit up straighter with a smile itching on your lips, your favorite food just when you were low on inspiration. “You're a lifesaver, these logistics are killing me.”

Joaquin sets the containers on the coffee table. He sits next to you, close enough that your thighs brush. He huffs out, “Tell me about it. Sam's been drilling us on contingency plans all day. I swear, he's got a backup plan for the backup plan.”

You laugh, “That's Sam for you. Always prepared.”

You open the containers, the aroma of the curry filling the room, and digging into the food in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“You got something on your…” Joaquin speaks, and you look at him with a particularly big bite in your mouth.

“Hmm?” you mutter.”

He reaches out and gently wipes a bit of sauce from the corner of your mouth. The gesture is intimate, lingering a moment too long. If you don’t count your sparring training, this was the closest you had been since ‘that’ night at the charity gala. Your hands grab his arm on their own.

It feels… good. Too good. It's been so long since anyone touched you like this. Desired you. Like you mattered. Like you weren't just… a disappointment. You… you want this. You want him.

But what if you mess it up? What if you push him away, like you did with…

Your heart almost leapt out of your chest as he gently cupped your face in his hands, your gaze locked on his warm brown eyes. He leaned in towards your lips, a silent question in his expression. You paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing your face, and gently pulled back.

He too leaned back, respecting your space. The tension remained, but now it carried a hint of gentle inquiry.

Looking down, you fidgeted with your hands, "It's not that I don't… I just… we need to be sure about this." You huffed out in frustration, trying to articulate your tangled thoughts.

"I want you," he stated, his voice low and sincere. You looked up at him instantly, his pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. "I want you in ways you can't imagine, y/n. And I will walk out of here right now if you don't want this. We can forget this ever happened."

Thunder roared in the skies above, and lightning illuminated his face through the window as he paused, his expression open and honest. "But," he gulped, his eyes searching yours, "if you do want this… then…"

He left the rest unsaid, giving you the space to make your own choice.

Your internal conflict finally tipped towards action.

Oh, fuck this…

His words were lost as soon as you crashed your lips on his.

—/—/—

You stumbled into your room, Joaquin’s lips didn’t leave yours as he threw the two of you on the bed. Pulling you under him, his hands were everywhere. Your mind could only catch up with a few, as it was too busy taking in all of him.

Joaquin made you feel like your entire body was on fire. Your hands flew straight to his hair, a moan leaving his lips. You did quick work on his clothes, leaving him in his boxers as he got busy removing yours.

No words were exchanged as he moved low, kissing and sucking your skin in all the places that made your vision hazy. You could only whine and gasp as he grabbed your legs and rested them on his shoulders.

And then he stopped.

You look down to see a mischievous grin plastered on his face, his pupils blown wide.

“Joaquin…” you breathe out, “stop teasing me.”

His eyes darken as he let out a low murmur against your skin and without warning dived in, a loud moan leaving your lips as pleasure rushed through your body.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

And I could see you being my addiction You can see me as a secret mission

“So… what is this?” you ask, lying next to him covered in sweat, panting. You rolled away next to him, completely exhausted from your acts that lasted three blissful hours.

“You’re asking this now?” he mutters, eyes fixed at the ceiling. “I’m pretty sure fraternizing between teammates is not allowed here.” He groans.

You close your eyes, trying to think about if that rule existed among the Avengers. As far as you knew nobody was involved with each other here. “We can be friends.” You suggest.

“What!” you feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to him leaning over you.

“No, just… think about it.” You shift to lean on the headboard, gathering the sheets to cover your chest, “you’re new to the team.”

Joaquin takes a pillow to cover himself and sits cross-legged in front of you, “okay.”

You stop for a second, staring at his abs.

Y/n stop it! Focus!

“We can’t just go ahead and announce that we’re sleeping together, or dating. They will never let us live this down. Especially Bucky. And Kate. Maybe Sam…” You state, matter of factly.

“Wait, wait! Stop!” he gestures, eyebrows scrunched, “You want to date me?”

“No! I don’t like you like that!” almost scream out, “do you wanna date me?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then I don’t see a problem with… this!” You throw out your hands.

“What is this exactly?” Joaquin pointed between you two.

You groan, “ugh, you’re as thick as it gets!” You adjust the sheets around your body to free your hands, “what did you think of me the first time you saw me?”

“At the gala? Huh…” he thinks, “That you have the prettiest smile.” he shocks you with the last part, but then he adds on, “also you looked hot in that pink dress.”

There we go.

“Well, I thought you had a great voice, and your eyes were really pretty.” You truthfully admit, “also you looked like trouble… and I have a thing for bad boys.”

“I’m twenty-five.”

“Whatever.”

“You swear you don’t want anything other than sex with me?” he asks you.

You nod, “Yeah. You?”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

Joaquin gets up from his place, picking up his boxers and putting them on, “So just to be clear… we’re friends.”

“Yep!” you catch your sweatshirt that he throws your way.

He puts on his shirt next, “With benefits.”

“Absolutely.” You say, debating whether you should get up the bed or not, exhaustion rolling over your senses.

“And you promise you won’t fall in love with me.” He points to you.

“Oh please, if anything you’ll be falling first.” You say through a yawn.

Joaquin laughs putting on his pants, “well, I’m gonna go get something to eat. You want something?”

“Do you mind if I take a nap? I’m tired.” You grimace.

He smiles at you, “Go ahead.”

You fall back on the bed, as you hear his footsteps going away… the sweet embrace of sleep following you next.

—/—/—

Few weeks later

Your place or mine?

Your screen lit up with the message from Joaquin. You smirked

Yours? In an hour? You press send, and let out a laugh as you see the blue tick instantly.

Done.

Before you could ask him the reason he got so worked up, you hear F.R.I.D.A.Y’s automated voice - Scan. Complete.

A low hum filled the operations center as you meticulously analyzed the fragmented data streams scanned by F.R.I.D.A.Y. Dozens of photographs presented infront of you but your eyes instantly locked in on one in particular. Your focus narrowed on a grainy image emerging from the static.

Broad shoulders, crisply pressed suit, gold rings on the fingers… could it be…

“Y/n!” Kate and Peter shout in unison as you slapped a stack of files on the kitchen table. Sam, Bucky, Shang Chi, Joaquin, all who were just about to eat, whipped their heads towards the commotion.

“I think I've found him,” you announced, pointing to the figure.

Sam and Bucky shared a look, and rushed towards you as you opened up a holographic display on your tab. Joaquin and you share a look, he was amused, a small smile on his face letting you know he was excited for what you found out, you smirked and quickly look away trying to focus on the scene infront of you.

“All this time I was searching for him here… but…” Cross-referencing facial recognition, thermal readings, and satellite data, you enlarged a section of the display, revealing a stark desert landscape. “The terrain, the temperature… it all points to one place... Mexico.”

A collective sense of surprise filled the room.

'Mexico?' Peter questioned, 'What's he doing down there?'

You zoomed in on a satellite image, enhanced thermal readings revealing a network of hidden structures. 'I don’t know, but he's planning something,' you stated, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice. 'Something big.' The implications hung heavy in the air.

“This changes everything.” You nodded, your gaze fixed on the display. 'We need to move fast.”

To Be Continued...

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Next Chapter will be up soon... Love y'all, Take Care!

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thelonestarinthesky · 3 days ago

Text

⁷. ᵍᵒᵒᵈᵇʸᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒʷ

⁺₊✦₊　

pairing: senku x f!reader

chapter 7 of 2/2- i.senku

cw: implied nudity and sex (no smut yet sadly)

a/n: next chapter will be the last of Senku's memories of reader. like I said on ao3, reader reminds me of the dead wife haunting the narrative, always brought up but not present.

masterlist / playlist

⁺₊✦₊　　

Senku woke up from the best sleep he'd ever had. Was he maybe exaggerating? Probably.

His hand was softly holding onto something soft and warm. He couldn't help but smile from just remembering what happened last night.

Wanting to keep sleeping with the girl in his arms, burying his face back in her hair. He let out a groan when [Name] moved slightly to turn and look up at him, forcing his hand to hold onto her hip instead.

He opens one eye to look down at her, only to blush slightly and close his eyes again.

"....stop looking at me with those eyes." He says muffled, clearly flustered by the way she stared up at him.

"You dazzle me, what can I say?"

She giggles at this, burying her face in his chest. "...now you're embarrassed, but the way you were last night was totally different." [Name] says teasingly. "Was it really Senku doing all those things, or was it a mimic?"

She lets out a squeal as she feels his lips bite down on her shoulder, his fingers tickling her side as she tries to get away from him.

"...you think if Byakuya was here, would he storm into your room without knocking and find us like this?" [Name] asked, sitting up to stretch only to curl back into his arms.

Senku hums quietly. "10 billion percent he would scold us for not using protection." He says, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Scold you, maybe; he has a soft spot for me." He rolls his eyes when she says this while grinning at him happily, poking his cheek playfully.

"Someone's too proud to admit he's jealous." The girl lets out a laugh as he pushes her hand away before setting down again.

Sighing peacefully, she closes her eyes. "I was thinking of finishing my education at your school." She confesses. "It would be nice if I experienced high school life before becoming an adult."

Senku thinks that ever since she came back and stayed over 3 years ago, she didn't return to school and instead went back to homeschooling due to her illness. "You are taking your medicine, right? I don't want you to go back to the hospital for serious treatment again." He says, scolding her as he pinches her cheek, making her whine in protest.

"You need to get better," he says quietly.

After putting on some clothes, Senku pulled [Name] to his science room, hands intertwined tightly. The room was still filled with many science things, but the one thing that never changed or moved was the telescope in front of the window and the little robot Senku sitting on the frame of the window.

[Name] walked up to it, "You still have this?" She asked, poking it. She couldn't help but wonder why he even kept a clearly poor-built robot she did when she was a kid.

"Obviously, it was the first gift you gave me besides your allowance card." He says plainly as he walks over to a box on his desk.

[Name] was too busy examining the old robot, looking it over as an idea came to her, smiling at it.

Senku stood behind her, holding something in his hands. Clearing his throat, she turns around only to be met with a bouquet of blue roses; she's in awe.

"It's for you." He says, flustered, a blush on his cheeks as [Name] happily accepts the flowers.

"They're so beautiful." She says bashfully, looking down at them, smiling.

His heart skips a beat at this, seeing his girl look so happy to receive anything he gives her.

"Well, of course, it's nothing special. Just roses soaking up blue food coloring dye." He says, talking [Name]'s ear off. The girl just smiled even more at this, watching as he spoke about the science behind it.

Normally, Senku, when he's nervous, would talk and talk, which she found cute. He wasn't a very expressive person, but he could separate his feelings and logic so she could read him easily.

With Senku being too shy, his gaze averted to the side, she took this opportunity. Gently settling down the bouquet of the blue roses on his desk, she quietly goes back over to him and hugs him tightly.

He relaxes as soon as she does so, her face buried in his chest. "Thank you." She says as his arms wrap around her waist.

Leaning up, she gives him a kiss before pulling back as soon as he tries to deepen it. "I wonder how you're not sick of me yet." [Name] teases, giving him a grin before letting a muffled squeal as Senku cuts her off, smashing his lips against hers.

After making out for minutes, he pulls back, panting heavily, grinning down at her. "You can't just tease me like that when you're only wearing my shirt."

[Name] flushes red at this and feels one of his hands sliding down to cup her ass as the kiss deepens once more.

Letting a surprised gasp as she feels Senku gently lead her to the floor, blushing furiously. "Seriously?! In here?" She says, embarrassed. He gives her a wicked grin, making her heart beat rapidly.

"Yeah, in here." He says, leaning in once more.

࿐⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐

[Name] sat beside him, Yuzuriha, and Taiju in front of them. The four were in a cafe; the girls were busy eating their sweets while Taiju was debating on which one to eat, and Senku was scrolling on his phone.

[Name] was set to graduate in a couple of months, plus their anniversary was coming up soon, and he never failed to at least gift her something he'd make with his hands and science.

Like him, she keeps all the gifts he makes for her in her closet, specifically for his gifts. Rich people...

Scrolling on his phone, he looks up upon noticing [Name], holding out a fork with a piece of cake for him. Leaning in and eating it, she smiles before continuing to talk to Yuzuriha, who clearly wants to do the same with Taiju but is too shy to do so.

His brows furrow up in seeing an article, getting [Name]'s attention; she leans on his shoulder to see what he's looking at.

Her expression changes slightly, and he notices. "I'll tell you in private." She mouths to him before kissing his cheek to make sure Yuzuriha and Taiju don't notice her mood change completely.

After studying and chatting, the couple waved at their friends as they went their separate ways.

"Rumors are going around about my position as the heir. I'm sure you remember back at my 15th birthday party, the son of the Nanami Conglomerate." She says sternly, despite being carefree and like any teenager her age. She still had her serious moments when involving her connection to the business world.

"He proposed marriage between us once I turned 18. Saying it would benefit mine and his family, which is true to some degree." Senku sees that distant look in her eyes again and takes her hand, intertwining their fingers softly.

"But that article, it said the [L/n] company is being involved in a highly classified project," she held up her hand that he wasn't holding.

"... someone must have leaked it..."

"I've seen it once when my father took me to where they're working on it." She says. "It's shaped like...."

She thinks for a bit before talking again. "A trefoil knot." Senku raises a brow at this. Such a strange design for this? He wonders why.

"It's really small, maybe like the palm of your hand." She raises his hand so she can replicate what she's talking about. "It's strange, though. Why would my father take place in this project? Normally, he would invest in the next big technology; making sentient robots is what he's trying to do. Why work on something so small?" She ponders before something catches her eye.

Quickly looking to the side, where she saw a flicker of light, she didn't find anything out of the ordinary.

"Anyways, I want you to keep this between us. If it's this serious, I'll tell you once I learn more." She promises. "I do have a good memory, remember?" Teasing him a bit.

He nods, "Let's go home. We have school tomorrow."

The two walk home, playfully arguing between themselves, but Senku can't help but feel like someone is watching them.

࿐⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐

[Name] was acting strange days before the accident, often looking around, almost paranoid but never said anything to him. Clearly, he did not want to worry him.

And that's what he regrets the most in the modern world. If he had tried to at least convince [Name] to stay at his house instead of letting her go to a business meeting with her dad.

The car accident wouldn't have happened, which would have led to [Name] staying in the hospital for days.

Only to receive heart-retching news from Byakuya, who held a box in his hands, breaking the news to Senku.

"[Name] told me to give this to you." He spoke very softly to the white-green-haired boy, who blinked slowly; Senku was getting ready to go see [Name] like he'd done since she'd been admitted to the hospital.

Confused, Senku grabs the box only to flinch when he feels how heavy it is. "What the hell is it?" He says. "No way [Name] carried this heavy thing around."

Opening the box, he peeks inside to find what looks like a minimized-sized doll that shares [Name]'s appearance.

"A doll?" He mumbles even more confused. Only to be speechless when the doll slowly opened its eyes to look up at him.

"Leek." It says proudly, which makes Senku's eye twitch. This thing is one billion percent made by [Name]. He thinks to himself.

Byakuya places a hand on his head, which makes the red-eyed boy look at him confused.

It was February 2nd when [Name] had fallen in a coma.

taglist- @frootloopscos @itsnotsh1v4n1 @lovingyeet @kazuubaby @awwwia @foulbreadpaenut @verysanebsdfan @the-wild-tomato @copycat-namjesus @arimakanav @cchuisme

#thelonestarinthesky #senku x reader #dr stone #dr stone senku #dr stone x reader #ishigami senku #senku #senku x y/n #x reader #drst x reader #2/2 i.senku series

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acynicalsweetheart · 2 days ago

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DDLG hcs with dad curly ? similar to your faux innocence work, but your thoughts/hcs you’d have for that type of scenario? :3

hai unfortunately came to the conclusion that i suck at hcs but tried my best LOL… got a little long apologies

content warning: 18+, dead dove do not eat, daddy-daughter incest, ddlg, praise, faux innocence sort of

dad!curly is a dope and a total sap who’s well aware of you being past a little girl by now—but that doesn’t mean that he’s ready to let you grow up. not when…

dad!curly has been too busy with work your entire life, spending his time in and out of space with little time to tend to you the way he should’ve. now that he’s retired from his position, left behind the ludicrous fiasco that is pony express, he can finally be your full time dad… and daddy :3

dad!curly barely recognises you, prancing around with those things on your chest, in clothes clinging to your body tighter than vacuum packing. it all happened so fast. he knew you’d be older, matured, independent and that makes his stomach sink.

what if you don’t need him anymore?

dad!curly feels dumb having bought you teddy bears as a gift, yet you hug him ever so sweetly—thanking him and smacking your lips straight onto his cheek. you look at him the same, like nothing’s changed, like he’s been here all along.

dad!curly doesn’t know how to get properly accustomed to you being all grown up now—luckily for him, you don’t seem to mind. you let curly treat you the way he should’ve all those years ago. it’s a coping method for the both of you.

hold your hand? check. sleep in his bed? no problem. feed you? that’s a given. call him daddy? of course. read you bedtime stories? sure. plushies? boatloads. baby talk? you secretly love it. bathe you? you’d bite his fingers off like bunnies do carrots.

dad!curly is fine with that, he doesn’t want to overstep his little girl’s boundaries. he quickly adjusts to the routine, probably ‘cause you’ve both already been through this before, it’s just like reliving a memory.

dad!curly kisses you on the mouth and you don’t even flinch, they come as often as they do for boyfriends and girlfriends. him reading you fairy tales about princesses and their princes is nightly practice. you falling asleep on your daddy’s chest is as well.

now…

dad!curly as we established, isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but does notice your thighs shifting every time he reads kissing scenes—you’re not exactly subtle with it. clenching them together like you’re trying to relieve an ache between them but don’t know how.

dad!curly is conflicted, he just wants to help his princess, what kind of a daddy would he be to let you walk around that needy? he’d heard you struggling prior in your room, whining out of frustration ‘cause you just can’t get it right. poor baby.

dad!curly sets the book aside, stroking your head and checking with you to assess the situation. what’s going on? where does it tingle? need daddy’s help? he bares you from the covers, feeling your body with large hands ever so tender like he doesn’t want to hurt you.

dad!curly helps you get your panties off, a sticky string stubbornly stuck to the gusset as he pulls them down. you’re embarrassed at the sight, hiding your face in your hands. he thinks it’s cute, but wants you to look at him.

dad!curly noses at your knuckles till you peek at him through the cracks of your fingers, keeping his gaze on yours. once you loosen up, he continues.

dad!curly trails his calloused fingers up your thighs, holding you close as he makes contact with your swollen bud. you whimper and buck your hips up out of impatience, calling out for daddy as you blink up at him.

“Shh, honey, just stay still. Daddy’s gonna help, okay?”

dad!curly resumes his touch after a nod of your head, rubbing soft and gentle circles on your clit till you’re squirming. your hole is leaking, crying out like it wants to be filled by something thick and long—much like that something thick and long curly’s got in his sweats.

dad!curly is humble but aware that he’s much too big and would break you in half if he tried to fit inside his baby. he slides his hand down further instead, circling your entrance with his middle finger.

dad!curly lets you squeeze his other hand when he works his digit inside, lets you grip onto his shirt when he starts to carefully plunge in and out. your body’s tense but gradually unveils as curly’s fingers move against your spongy spot.

“That’s my good girl, taking daddy so well.”

dad!curly pecks your cheek, watching you come undone and shake in his arms. your legs clamp shut around his hand like a clamshell—moans and whines spilling out of you alongside your cum.

“You did so good, honey. ‘M so proud of you.”

dad!curly murmurs into your hair, pulling out and collecting your slick onto his fingers so you can taste yourself. he lets you suck his digits clean, completely disregarding the stiffness painfully straining against the fabric of his pants when he grabs your face to kiss you.

dad!curly can’t help but moan at the taste of his little girl on his tongue, horrifyingly close to cumming in his pants. but he sucks it up and helps you get your panties back on, lulls you to sleep on his chest with his sweet voice continuing the book of the fairy tale.

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serxa · 1 day ago

Text

THE PRINCE HAS TO LEARN THE HARD WAY—PART 3—THIRTEEN

PART 1 PART 2

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: It's Telemachus' last day with Y/n. Yet he absolutely failed making his time with her worth.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Telemachus

Sorry if this took SOOO long to post, Wattpad has been bugging recently, and yes, I write in wattpad but post it here. Thank you for all the support:)

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 Telemachus had been working for Y/n's family business. When Y/n's father started to notice that he was finally getting good at pottery, even learning the clay animals thanks to Y/n, he decided he'll let him work for one more day until he sends him off.

But Telemachus doesn't know that today was his last day of work. He happily walked towards the market, with his bag of scrolls and parchment that had all of the sales he had made the past few weeks he has been working for Y/n's family business.

When he met up with Y/n, oh God's how he thought she was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. But Y/n doesn't know anything about Telemachus' feelings. Hell, not even Telemachus knows for himself. He denies it, saying she's just a work colleague... She's a lot oblivious than she really is. "Morning, Tel." Y/n waved at him while he walked over.

He felt a weight on his shoulder suddenly disappear and waved back. "Morning Y/n." He smiled softly and they started walking to the shop to open up. Telemachus choice to work early and to get off the same time Y/n does too, which did make Penelope and Y/n's parents cock an eyebrow at him, but they just agreed.

"Could you open the shutters for me?" Y/n sighed, stretching a bit. She's different from the normal girls here in Ithica. Almost every woman is wearing chitons and doesn't help in shops, yet, Y/n is an amazing person with pottery and sculpting, working at her parents shop, and wearing a tunic and their long sleeve uniforms.

"Yeah, of course." Telemachus murmured before opening the draped and shutters. They started unpacking the stuff, putting them back onto the shelves, tracking what's the hottest deals, counting how many left are in stock and if they need to sculpt. "I'm so.. Tired." Y/n murmured, yawning as she stretched back once again.

"What time did you sleep?" Telemachus asked as he carefully unpacked the glass swan he was holding. "A bit late than usual.." She answered as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her palm. Telemachus smiled softly at the look of her sleepy state. "Need, I don't know, coffee? After unpacking we could get a cup and go back here.." Telemachus offered as he put the storage box away. Y/n thought about the offer and smiled, nodding. "Yeah, sure.." She agreed, as she started to help unpack.

As the two did their own business, Y/n's father appeared and started to have a bit of small talk with them, before he looked over at Telemachus. "Boy, it's your last day, me and your mother agreed on it. We saw that you have been a good help here in the shop, and I think you've paid much more than enough for your debt here." He smiled at Telemachus.

When Telemachus heard her father's statement, he suddenly felt a weight of his shoulders add, his shoulder sagging a bit. When he was finally getting attached to the shop, loving pottery, enjoying waking up early, and being her, oh especially being with her. He glanced over at Y/n who was also staring at him. "O-Oh, uh.." He turned his eyes back to Y/n's father. "Yeah, thank you for letting me know." Telemachus forced a smile.

Once Y/n's father left, ne continued to unpack. "Is there anymore boxes?" He asked Y/n, who was starting to open the drums of clay. "Uhh.." She turned her head to see nothing but empty storage boxes. "None, so.. About that coffee." She smiled at Telemachus, that practically made him weak to the knees and toes.

"Oh, still want to grab a cup?" He smiled, and she immediately nodded, taking her small pouch of money. As they walked through the market, since the coffee grounds and coffee shops were at the very end, Telemachus noticed how weary Y/n was today.

She was limply walking as she counted her money. "Everything alright?" Telemachus asked, putting his hands in his pocket as they walked with a small distance between them. "Yeah, just tired.." She murmured, which Telemachus still didn't believe, but didn't want to push her too much.

He started to lean closer as they continued walking, and Y/n catched on. She hooked her arm around his and rested her head on his shoulder, which made Telemachus feel a sort of giddy inside him, but he quickly shoved it away. 'This is just to help her..' He reminded himself as they reach the small coffee and tea shop.

Y/n took her arm away from Telemachus' and ordered two cups of coffee for them. As they waited Telemachus was whistling, a new skill he actually learned a day ago. "Didn't know you could whistle." Y/n suddenly commented, which made him stop and smile sheepishly. "Yeaaah just.. Learned a new trick."

"New trick? Are you a dog? It's skill." Y/n corrected him. Telemachus was used to Y/n correcting him like this, but there are times where they both act dumb which they ask her parents for help then. "Right, skill." Telemachus nodded and they got their cup of coffee.

They sat on the small tables outside of the standee and started to drink their coffee. "I love their coffee, it a different flavor." Y/n admired the cup of coffee while she kicked her legs from under the table. "It has a zest to it." Telemachus stated as he blew the coffee to cool it down. "I know! That's why I love it." Y/n said happily, her charismatic and energetic side showing again.

"There's that energy." Telemachus raised his eyebrows, smiling at Y/n as he watched Y/n get her energy back. "Well, a good cup of coffee is what a simple person like me needs to get the day started." She said proudly. "Woah woah, too many syllables." Telemachus teased as he raised his hands playfully, making Y/n scoff and chuckle. "I'm sorry that your teeny tiny brain can't comprehend more than 16 syllables in one statement." She retorted with a teasing smirk.

Telemachus sipped his coffee and rolled his eyes playfully. "Hey, I can comprehend! I can comprehend good." He laughed and Y/n couldn't help but laugh also. Once they finishes their cup of coffee, and started walking back to the shop, they saw the other standee's and shops start to open also, restocking, opening shutters, all of that.

When they were back in the shop, up and running, Telemachus was practicing how to mold clay animals as Y/n read a book, both of them waiting for rush hour, where all of the sales pile in. Y/n looked up at Telemachus, watching as his eyebrows knit together as he carefully sculpted the play, wearing their uniforms and his hair tousled. He kept a serious expression, really all his attention on the sculpting clay in his hands, carefully holding it, not squeezing it or anything, just carefully holding it so it would turn out good.

Y/n turned her attention back to her book, shaking her head a bit as to remind herself about what she was reading. After a while, the customers started to pile in, and the two worked diligently with their tasks. Meanwhile, in Telemachus' head, was just one thing. Today was his last day of work. He won't be able to see Y/n unless he goes to the market, but he doesn't want to be obvious also!

He served one customer and once they left, he started to turn a plan in his head, the years turning with a crinking sound with each turn, trying to form a plan on how to spend time with her. It's already twelve in the afternoon, Y/n's parents giving the two food and as they ate, Telemachus was trying to find a reason to continue working here. It's hardest to explain to his mother, Penelope, especially that he doesn't want his mother to know or at least expect he likes someone now.

Does he even like her? He was in a spiral, not even getting his own feelings, how is Y/n able going to comprehend them? He sighed before taking a big bite of food before looking up at Y/n, who was starting to talk about her book. Telemachus smiled softly, humming after every statement, indicating that she was listening to her yapping. "But the author only made this book! It's annoying, only this? Their writing is ethereal!" She rambled, making Telemachus chuckle softly as he watched her grumble over the book.

"Maybe I could read it also once your done.." He murmured. "I mean, sure, you can. Only if I'm done." She smiled and Telemachus nodded in agreement. "Deal?" He raised his hand for a hand shake, which she gladly took. Telemachus couldn't help but think about how soft her hands were, like you just put ten pounds of lotion on their hands, and how warm her hands were.

Y/n on the other hand, couldn't help but think how soft his hand were also. And how bigger they were compared to hers. His hand was skinny and lean also, just like him, but his fingers were long and could easily clasp around her entire hand. Once they pulled away and continued eating, Telemachus could feel his cheeks burn a bit, indicating he was blushing. He quickly got rid of it before Y/n could notice his blush.

"The delas set, you're reading the book after I do and you're going to talk to me all about it!" She giggled, making Telemachus smile, knowing that Y/n also wants to continue talking to him even though he wouldn't be working there anymore. "Mhm." He took another spoonful of food, bringing it up to his mouth and ate it, watching as Y/n did that same. The two were finally starting to warm up to eachother..

Once the clock ticked three in the afternoon, Telemachus knew it was time for his out from work. He hadn't formulated a decent plan that wouldn't get him into too much trouble, so he just decided to let go and stop working, his contract was off and he wasn't sure if they we're even finding a new employee. And gosh, how shy he was to go back here everyday just to spend time with Y/n, its a stupid thing, really. He's just making it look like he likes her...

As he took the boxes from the storage room to unpack all of the vases and animals, he looked over at Y/n. "So how's your last day? Feeling happy that you're finally out of this hell hole?" She smirked as she leaned on the table, watching as he unpacked, placing the work of arts in the boxes for future sellings.

"Actually, I might miss it." He shrugged. "I know I don't get paid, nor I haven't even stayed here for more than 2 months, but I gotten used to how we do stuff around here. And our morning coffees. Lunches with you.. Free time with you. Y'know?" He chuckled awkwardly after realizing that he was rambling about you, wishing you don't catch on and think that he likes you, cause even he wasn't sure if he did. "Huh, really?" She said, propping herself on her palms, her tone dripping with tease.

"Hey, don't tease me now." He chuckled, making her grin. "I apologize, Prince of Ithica." She said softly, knowing she would have to start using that title once again. "Pssh, hearing that from you is a new thing." He chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "What? It's true though." She giggled as Telemachus put the boxes back in the storage room.

"But hearing it form you is new.." He hummed, taking his bag, knowing that this might be their last conversation before he hides himself in his room, too scared to even look at her, knowing his feelings would just drive him into the biggest spiral mess he has ever been in before. Simply just by looking at her, makes him think that he likes you. But he also knows that he doesn't. But knowing that he likes you, also makes him remember he doesn't like you. It's really confusing, for him also.

He just wanted to nestle inside of his room and never look at her ever again. How is he going to ever explain this to her is he decided to confess? Does he need to get his shit and thoughts straight? He doesn't want to hurt her with false hope.. Suddenly, a snap made him shake his head, coming back to reality. "Huh?" He blinked, as he saw a confused Y/n in front of him, still leaning on the table she was leaning to earlier.

"You going home now?" She asked, tapping the table as she had a soft frown on her face. "Oh.. Uh-.. Yeah, I do. I-I am, sorry." He turned pink as he stumbled on his words. Y/n smiled softly and nodded. "Alright, so.. Let's go and close." She said softly taking the keys and her bag. As they closed the shutters and put back the drapes, Y/n suddenly felt a sense of longing. She didn't want to see Telemachus leave yet. Everything was so confusing.

"Uh.. I'll see you... Whenever I see you?" Telemachus said awkwardly, making Y/n's shoulders sag a bit as she realized that Telemachus wasn't planning on seeing her tomorrow. "Ah.. Uh, yeah.. Yeah, see you whenever I see you." She repeated, forcing a soft smile he normally gives him. Telemachus nodded and looked around before his eyes travelled back to you. "Bye.." He murmured.

"Bye."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

After a few days after Telemachus' last day, it was all so boring, no one to hang out with any more, and no more reason to wake up early again.

"It's been a while since you and Y/n have talked. You aren't going out of the house much again." Penelope said as Telemachus was hanging out in his parents room, as Penelope weaved a shroud. Telemachus suddenly froze at the mention of her name.

Y/n, the girl who was messing with his head. He never knew what love felt like. Is it supposed to make your her at ache or make you confused? Is it supposed to be annoyingly stubborn and never leave your head? How he feels about Y/n, gosh he just admits it, he likes her. He likes Y/n. How he misses his mornings, noons and nights with her, how the two talk about their interests and later on find out that you two both like that one topic. He loves how her eyes lights up when she see's him walking towards the market, how she leans on a nearby wall, table or chair as she watches Telemachus work...

How... Pretty she is.

Telemachus cleared his throat and started. "... I just... I just w. Have something in my head about Y/n." He started off, making Penelope curious. "That is..?" She waited as she continued weaving. "... I may or may not be developing big feelings for her, like big big, like big that I want to he with her. As a.. Partner.." He rambled. Making Penelope raise her eyebrows. Seeing Telemachus in love is not normal, he had always been busy protecting his mother from the suitors, being by her side as they longed for Odysseus to get home, so seeing him Inlove, is a crazy scenario.

"It's just.. She's so diligent. So hard working, she could serve up to 10 customers at once and could do pottery and sculpting. Gosh, in a span of short weeks, she managed to teach me how to do pottery... And how pretty she is, her eyes soften when she looks at me, her smile is so perfect with every crease and dimple forming on her cheeks and chin, even the side of her eyes creases when she smiled, her nose scrunching up when she's focused,she's like a rabbit, I swear, she's adorable." He rambled to his mother, covering his face as he groaned in his hands.

Penelope chuckled softly and hummed, looking at his now, lovesick son. "... You know... You could take the risk to be with her.. See if she likes you back." Penelope reassured her son as she counted the strings and skeins of yarn for her shroud. "I just.. I need time. I can turn my face towards her just yet, I need to let my feelings straight. Thanks mother." He sighed, standing up. "It's a good idea for making sure first." She hummed. When she saw Telemachus stand up, she cleared her throat. "Bye now, Telemachus." She smiled softly and he just waved goodbye. "Bye mother."

Fun fact, I wrote the last paragraph half asleep, so I apologize if it sounds nonsense

#𝄞♩♪serxa posts #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #telemachus epic the musical #telemachus x reader #telemachus #legendary epic the musical

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d1xonss · 9 hours ago

Text

Desert Rose

Chapter 71 ~ Spaghetti Tuesdays

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Word Count : 7.9k

In this chapter ~ Things begin to turn up after a small, intimate moment is shared between Daryl and Rose; a much needed one at that. And after making a few new friends over a shared meal, the night only grew more blissful as the two finally adjust to the idea of building a life in Alexandria. Together.

As much as I wanted to be home, safe, and asleep, I had to get these fucking shoes off my feet. I didn't make it very far front the front door before I sat down on the porch steps and slowly pulled the heels off, but not without muttering an "ow" a few times with each foot. Though it was worth it in the end as soon as they were off, opting to sit there for a moment to collect myself, sighing quietly as I ran a hand through my hair.

The windows behind me were open just a crack, allowing the music from inside to drift out of the small space, along with the chatter that never seemed to die down. I almost felt guilty for leaving so fast, not saying goodbye to anyone as I was in too much of a rush. Although a part of me blamed it on being overwhelmed by the whole thing. Mainly because it was, well...overwhelming. But at least I could say that I tried. I tried, I hated it, I left. At the end of the day, I had to do what was best for me.

The sound of gravel crunching and footsteps approaching caused me to glance up, only to see none other than Daryl Dixon hesitantly walking down the street towards Deanna's, playing with something in his hands that I couldn't quite see from where I was.

I smirked, "Hey, handsome."

His head snapped up at the sound of my voice, a smile breaking out onto his face when he saw me sitting on the steps, "Hey."

I noticed his pace picked up the smallest bit as he now approached the house, though stopped dead in his tracks when he finally noticed what I was wearing. His eye began to trail down my body, causing me to smile sheepishly as I fought against the fluttery feeling in my stomach upon his gaze.

But he didn't stop there, as the next thing I heard was a long, loud wolf whistle coming from him while he slowly approached me once again, "Stop it." I laughed.

He grinned widely as he finally came to stand in front of me, "Come on now, gimmie a spin." he gestured, helping me up to my feet.

I couldn't help but smile as he raised one of my arms above my head, helping me twirl around to show him the entire outfit while he continued to scan me head to toe. I heard his small hum in approval and I turned fully to face him again, a faint redness dusting the apples of his cheeks.

"Ain't you a dime, sweet girl." he complimented.

"Thank you." I muttered a bit shyly.

I felt him give my hand a small squeeze, "What're ya doin out here by yerself?"

"Well," I sighed, "I was having a terrible time, so I figured I'd escape while I had the chance." I spoke dramatically before stepping back to take a seat on the porch, patting the space next to me as an invitation.

He chuckled at my reasoning, lowering himself down beside me with a huff, "That mean I don't gotta go in there?" he asked, trying to hide the hopefulness in his voice.

I rolled my eyes playfully, "Yeah, you got out of it...you lucky bastard."

A hum of amusement left him before he revealed his other hand out from behind his back for me to see. In his grasp was a single yellow dandelion he had picked and brought all the way back from the woods it seemed like. The stem was a bit smushed and the head itself looked a little sad, yet I couldn't help but smile at the simple gesture.

"Couldn't find any real flowers, so I settled for this one." he said, "Figured I'd bring ya some kinda peace offerin for being so late."

I twirled it in between my fingers before lifting it up and placing it behind my ear, "For me?"

"Yeah, baby. Just for you." he confirmed.

I leaned forward to steal a quick kiss from him, the action alone expressing how sweet I found it to be. "Thanks, love. So, how did the hunt go anyway?"

"Not exactly how I planned," he sighed, "Aaron followed me out there before I could get too far."

My eyes widened, "What?"

"Said he was lookin for some horse he wanted ta track down and bring back here, asked me to help him. And we found it, but kept scarin it off every time we got too close. Eventually the thing took off into a field with too many walkers, and they..." he trailed off with a gesture of his hand.

I sighed, "Damn."

He huffed lightly, "Yeah...damn is right."

I leaned in to rest my head against his shoulder, gently taking his hand again, "I'm sorry, hon. That sucks."

He shrugged, "Nah, it's alright. My guess is ya didn't have the best night either."

"Yeah, you can say that again," I scoffed, "But...you'll be happy to hear I drenched some asshole in beer."

"No way, I missed that?" he said with a shocked grin, "Who?"

"Deanna's son, Spencer. Picture this," I gestured with my hand, "I'm minding my own business in the kitchen and suddenly he comes in and strikes up a conversation."

"No." he said in faux disbelief.

"Oh, yes." I continued, "He starts the most boring small talk you can imagine, asking if I'm having fun, and how we're settling. But then it took a turn when he started to obviously hit on me, the whole charming guy bullshit that almost made me puke. And even after telling him I was married, he still kept pushing it. So, I eventually I dumped my beer on his head, insulted him, and now here I am."

By the time I was done talking, all of the amusement had suddenly left his eyes, and I was now left with looking at a man who was clearly about to burst into flames. Shit. Maybe I didn't fully think this through.

I cleared my throat awkwardly, shifting a bit to look away from him, "I also accepted the job from Deanna...I start tomorrow I think." I said quietly, trying to change to subject.

"He didn't leave ya alone?" he asked a bit sharply.

I sighed, "Love, I took care of it. Did you not hear the part where I humiliated him in front of everyone? I think it's safe to say he got the message."

"Nah, I heard it loud and clear." he said, his tone grumbling, "M' just thinkin I should go in there and have a word with him."

"Hm, and what exactly would you say in this delightful conversation?"

"Wouldn't do a whole lotta talkin." he muttered bitterly.

I laughed a little, "Daryl...it's okay."

He still looked a little uneasy, "Ya sure? Cause I can go in there right now and knock some sense into him."

I placed my hand on the side of his face, getting him to actually look me in the eye, "I'm sure. But hey, if it ever happens again, you're the first person I'll call to kick his ass. Okay?"

He smirked a little, "Alright..."

My knuckles gently ran across his cheek, feeling the slight prickle of his beard as I brought him in for another kiss, feeling his hand slip around me to squeeze my hip. He pecked my lips a few more times before pulling back to look at me, seeing his clear shift in emotion as he took in every inch of my face, his smile returning.

"Well, what do you think? You ready to get out of here?" I asked softly.

He nodded with a small hum, gently patting the small of my back as we stood up to walk down the steps hand in hand, my shoes dangling from the other. Though we didn't make it very far before he tugged me to a stop, clearly noticing I was barefoot.

"Why didn't ya put yer shoes on?"

A quiet groan left my lips, "Because high heels want to murder your feet, it's just science." I insisted, gesturing down to them. The back of my heels alone were killing me.

He huffed lightly, "Well, ya ain't walkin home barefoot. Ya could step on somethin sharp."

"But...they hurt."

He looked down at me for a moment in contemplation before sighing softly, letting go of my hand to stand in front of me instead. He lowered his arms and bent down into a squat, leaving me eyeing him in confusion as I tried my best not to laugh.

"What're you doing?" I asked, amused at my view.

"Hop on." he said simply, wiggling his fingers for emphasis.

My eyebrows raised in surprise, "A piggyback ride?"

"Yeah, why not?"

This time I did laugh, finding the situation much more humorous than he probably did. But I partially blamed it on the number of drinks I had tonight. I adjusted the shoes in my grasp before attempting to steady my hands on his shoulders, jumping up on his back to which he easily caught me with a grunt.

I felt him shift slightly to get a better grip on my legs so I wouldn't fall, turning his head to look at me, "Ya good?"

"Yep." I nodded, "Giddyap."

He scoffed in amusement, his hand smacking my thigh playfully before he began to walk, carrying me back toward the house.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, the heels dangling from my fingertips as I rested my chin on his shoulder, practically hugging him from behind as I savored the closeness. It wasn't like I was deprived by any means, but it was safe to say I had missed him. And after a long day like this one, he was the one person that somehow made it all go away within seconds. My comfort.

Gazing around at the houses that were lined up the street, I noticed how almost all of them were completely empty with the lights off, most likely still at Deanna's gathering. Hell, nearly the entire community showed up tonight to meet us properly, yet it still managed to surprise me how much an event like that mattered around here. Though they also might've gone for the drinks, and I couldn't say I blamed them for that. Leaving everything around was practically dead.

But there was a certain house in particular that seemed to quickly catch my attention as we were heading its direction. The lights were off just like all the rest, but a small radio was sitting just in the window, playing some kind of soft and melodic song. It was beautiful to say the least, the quiet sound only growing louder as he walked toward it, my legs instinctively swinging gently to the beat. Daryl seemed to notice almost immediately how I was drawn to the tune, his head turning again to get a look at my face. But he surprised me slightly when I felt him slow to a stop in the middle of the street.

My brows furrowed a little as I snapped out of my trance, inching a bit closer to see his expression, "What's wrong?"

He looked back at me with a somewhat anxious glint in his eye, "Yer feet still hurt pretty bad?"

"Only when I'm wearing the shoes. Why?"

He nodded slowly before loosening his grip on me so I would slide off his back. I landed gently on my feet, growing even more confused to what he was doing as he did a quick scan of the pavement to make sure there was nothing harmful that I could step on.

I tilted my head, "Daryl...?"

He wordlessly turned back toward me, his brows furrowed with a hint of nerves, before taking the shoes from my grasp and tossing them aside on the grass to the left of us. My eyes followed to see where they had landed, glancing back at him with a completely lost look, hearing him chuckle at my obvious skepticism.

His hand then extended itself toward me, "Wanna dance?" he asked softly.

My eyes widened a little, my face breaking out in a smile, "I thought you said it was pushing it if I asked you to dance."

"Well...m' askin you ta dance. Loophole." he shrugged.

I narrowed my eyes at him playfully, slowly taking his outstretched hand to silently answer his question. He smiled at my acceptance, kissing my knuckles lightly before holding our intertwined hands outward, his other coming up to grasp my waist. I followed his lead as I raised my free hand to his shoulder, and together we started to sway to the gentle music that followed. He was looking down at me with such admiration it made my heart flutter, giving my waist a small squeeze while he attempted to guide me.

Every now and then he would glance down quickly at our feet, making sure he wasn't about to step on me like he did the last time, but in all honesty, his movements were great. He looked more sure of himself, more confident with dancing than he did with asking me. As if I would ever say no.

I then felt his hand leave my waist while he lifted our hands up to get me to spin around, my dress lightly flowing around me before we came back together. As close as we could possibly get. His head came down to rest his forehead against mine, our eyes closed in content, soaking up this moment as much as I possibly could. The closeness bringing me a certain peace. I squeezed his hand lightly and a small smile stayed on my lips while he slowly spun us in a little circle, remembering what I had briefly taught him from last time.

The music was perfect, the atmosphere was perfect, and he was perfect. I couldn't have asked for a better way to end the seemingly endless evening. And I think it was safe to say he agreed.

As the piano started to die down, our shared movements slowed, feeling him lift his head from mine ever so slightly to press a lingering kiss on my skin. I ravished in the moment for as long as I could, savoring every last second as if I couldn't get enough, the memory this would turn into would always be special to me now. Proof that there could still be love in a world so unforgiving.

My eyes fluttered open when I felt him pull back, a goofy grin on his face as he gazed down at me. "Have you been practicing?"

He scoffed, "Nah. Guess it just comes naturally."

"Yeah, well either way...it was great. Thanks for dancing with me, honey."

"Course." he said genuinely, pulling me in to leave another kiss on my temple, "Ya happy?"

I nodded slowly, "You always make me happy." I stated, and I meant it. He always found a way to make me smile even if I felt there was nothing to smile about, constantly jumping through hoops to uplift my mood in any way he could. Tonight was truly the best example of that.

"Good," he hummed before turning back around, "Alright, hop back on, woman."

I obliged and stepped up to place my hands on his shoulders again to climb onto his back once more. He carried me effortlessly away from the house we were once stopped in front of, purposely leaning a little back and forth so I felt like I was about to fall. I clung onto him tighter which is probably exactly what he wanted, smacking his chest lightly in attempts to get him to stop, our laughs echoing around the silent streets like a couple of fools. But I didn't really care how ridiculous we potentially looked. I hadn't felt this carefree in a very long time, and seeing him like that as well made me feel even more content.

Though right as we were approaching the familiar block. I suddenly remembered something. The fucking shoes.

"Wait, my heels." I mumbled with a defeated sigh.

At this point we were already almost back, seeing the house in the distance which only caused him to look back at me in disbelief. "Are ya ever gonna wear the damn things again?"

"Hell no." I said immediately.

"Then fuck 'em." he insisted before moving forward once again.

I let out a breath of air as I leaned my head against his, "Yeah, alright. I just hope I make whoever lives there very happy with their brand-new fancy shoes." I joked.

He chuckled, "Ya sure are generous."

I wordlessly rolled my eyes at his sarcasm, tightening my grip around him as he walked. But then we both seemed to freeze.

"Hey, guys!" came a voice to our right, both of us looking over with semi-wide eyes to see Aaron standing on his porch, waving toward us with a large smile.

I waved back awkwardly while Daryl just gave him a nod, both of us now realizing just how uncomfortable this interaction was with the position we were in.

"You guys coming back from the party?" he asked.

"Yeah. It sucked." I said bluntly.

He laughed a little with a shake of his head, "Well, then I'm glad I steered clear from that." he spoke in amusement, pausing momentarily as his eyes lingered on us. "Why don't you two come in, have some dinner?"

My first instinct was to decline as politely as I could, wanting nothing more than to just get home and go to sleep. But I would be blatantly lying if I said some food didn't sound nice. I glanced down to Daryl to silently ask what he wanted, watching him only shrug in response.

When neither of us responded, he insisted, "Come on, it'll be fun. It's some pretty serious spaghetti." he said before turning around and making his way inside.

The two of us watched him disappear behind the door, leaving it open a crack like he silently knew we would follow. We glanced back at each other again, sharing a certain look. Surely it would be rude to turn down free food.

The room was almost completely silent as the four of us ate in the dimly lit dining room, the only sound that filled the space were the forks lightly scraping on the plate and the clinking of the glasses. No one really knew how to start the conversation, especially since Daryl's slurping of the spaghetti was all the filler noise we needed for it to not be uncomfortable.

I took my time twirling the noodles around my fork, occasionally glancing at my husband to my left with amused eyes as the noodles continued to slap him in the face with every bite. My gaze eventually looked up to the other two men across from me and caught them as they shared a look all while trying to hold in their laughs, before their eyes panned toward me to which I only gave a knowing smile.

When Daryl finally took a breather to look up, our eyes were already on him, causing his cheeks to redden with slight embarrassment at all the sudden attention.

I glanced back to Aaron and Eric, "Don't worry, I keep him in a leash." I joked.

Daryl scoffed from beside me and nudged my side, while the other couple shared a laugh, getting some of the awkwardness out of the way. Thank God.

I tapped my fork anxiously, "Thank you so much for dinner, it's really great."

Daryl grunted in agreement from beside me, "Yeah, thanks." he muttered, wiping the remaining sauce that was on his face with the back of his sleeve.

"And I'm sorry again for not...having any shoes, I seemed to have misplaced them." I glanced at Daryl knowingly, hearing him snort.

"Oh, of course, and for the last time don't worry about it." Eric reassured with a wave of his hand, "You can borrow some sandals for the walk home if you'd like?"

I nodded, "That would be great, thank you."

He nodded back at me, another brief silence passing as we all continued to eat before Aaron was the one to speak, "So," he started, cleaning his face with a napkin, "How long have the two of you been together?"

"Oh, uh...about two years." I answered.

He raised his eyebrows, "Wow, I would've guessed longer, you just seem so...in sync. You guys met in this?"

"Yeah...it's been quite the experience." I confirmed, a part of my mind drifting to how life would've been if we had met before the world went to hell. How different it would be.

"Oh, I bet." Eric replied, as if he was speaking from experience.

Aaron hummed, "And you guys are married right? How long has that been?"

"Six months." Daryl said almost immediately.

My head turned to him in slight surprise at how fast he responded, but he on the other had seemed the least bit phased as he shoveled another bite in his mouth, subtly reaching out to squeeze my leg under the table. It warmed my heart that not only he knew for a fact how long we had been married, but said it as if the answer was constantly on his mind.

I looked back up at the two to see they had the softest smiles on their faces as they looked at us, Eric even placing a hand over his heart in awe. I smiled meekly at them, feeling myself get a bit flustered which caused me to take a drink of the red wine they offered in attempts to hide my embarrassment.

I cleared my throat, "I feel like you guys are my only voice of reason for this place, since you're the ones who brought us here." I huffed softly, "So, how long have you lived in Alexandria?"

Eric tilted his head, "Well, I think it's been about a year, wouldn't you say?" he asked Aaron who nodded in response, "We got here around the same time...and I guess it was only a matter of time before we got together ourselves."

"That's sweet." I smiled, watching them intertwine their hands. A part of me asked because I was curious. But another part of me wanted to be reassured that I could settle here just like everyone else.

Aaron looked at me for a beat longer than necessary, "You're still weary?" he assumed.

I shared a look with Daryl before shaking my head assuredly, "No...just curious, I guess."

He smiled a little, "I've actually been meaning to ask if you've accepted that job from Deanna yet? I know she's probably bugging you for some kind of answer."

"Yeah," I nodded, "I actually told her tonight that I was going to take it."

"Oh, that's great." he said genuinely, "Hopefully the job fits you perfectly."

"Fingers crossed." I muttered as I picked my fork back up, picking at the food to take another small bite. I felt Daryl squeeze my leg lightly in reassurance, knowing just how uneasy I was about the whole thing in the first place. I was nervous, but I was just glad I had his support through it.

"Mm," Eric hummed like he suddenly remembered something, "Speaking of. When you're out there, if you happen to be in a store or something, Mrs. Neudermyer is really looking for a pasta maker. And we're all really trying to get her to shut up about it." he directed toward Daryl, "I mean we have crates of dry pasta in here, but she wants to make her own or something."

I looked back towards him to see if he knew what the man was talking about, but he seemed to have the same blank expression as I did, swallowing the wine quickly to try and catch up with what Eric was saying.

"If you see one on your travels, it would go a long way to..." he suddenly trailed off, seeing the look on Aaron's face. There was just silence once again, and clearly we were the only ones in the dark about what was going on.

Suddenly Eric felt quite embarrassed as he stared back down at his plate, "I thought it was done...you didn't ask him already?"

"Ask me what?" Daryl voiced.

Aaron smiled a little before getting up from his seat, "Follow me."

He headed off towards the garage and Daryl was hesitant to push out his chair and trail behind, but he did nonetheless. Though not without looking back at me about five different times to see if I would follow him out there so he wouldn't be alone. I swear he was acting like a child having to go to their first day of school. Shaking my head, I silently waved him on, watching him sigh heavily once he realized he was on his own for this.

Once Eric heard the door squeak shut, knowing the two men were gone, he looked back towards me with a bright smile, "Well, you two are adorable, are you kidding?"

I just laughed, "Thank you. I could say the same about you two."

"Oh, stop." he waved me off, "I can't believe how much that man melts when he's around you. It's precious."

"So I've been told." I agreed with a small nod. "So, what did you do before all of this?" I found myself asking.

He wiped his mouth quickly with a hum, "Well, I was in between jobs, but technically the last one I had was a receptionist at an office company that sold paper." he deadpanned. My face scrunched up just as much as his was as he let out a chuckle, "Thrilling I know." he said sarcastically, "But what about you?"

"I was an undercover cop."

His eyes widened, "Oh, really? Well, no wonder they want you to be our constable, you'll kill it out there."

I shrugged, "I hope so."

"Well, have a little faith." he joked.

I laughed softly, "I just mean...I haven't been a cop in two years and all of a sudden, I'm jumping back into it at full force. It's going to be weird at first, but hopefully I'll get used to it."

"You will." he reassured, "If Deanna believes you're a good fit for the job, then you're a good fit for the job."

"That easy, huh?" I asked with a raised brow.

He simply nodded his head as if he knew best, before going back to finishing the food that remained in front of him. And for some reason, even after barely knowing the man, I somewhat trusted his judgement as he seemed confident in his words. Maybe everything would be alright.

Ignoring Eric's protests, I ended up cleaning everyone's plates from the table and taking them to the kitchen, helping the man out considering he still couldn't move around too well with his ankle. I rinsed the dishes off a bit before filling up one side of the sink with warm, soapy water, letting them soak for the time being. I was even tempted to help put away the leftovers they had still sitting on the stove, but I knew he'd just yell at me for that too, so I decided to take the highroad.

Drying my hands off with a nearby towel, I stepped out of the kitchen right as Aaron and Daryl came back from the garage. I smiled briefly at them, watching Daryl shift uncomfortably as he clearly didn't want to overstay his welcome.

"M' gonna take a piss, then ya ready to go?" he asked.

I scoffed lightly at his bluntness before nodding, "Yeah, sure."

He dipped his head before heading down the hall to find the bathroom, while I trailed back toward the dining area where Aaron was now hovering, cleaning up the wine glasses.

"Oh, I can do that." I offered.

He shot me a look, "You're our guest, you shouldn't be taking any dishes."

"I tried to tell her." Eric said with raised hands, "She's stubborn."

"I could've told you that." Aaron added teasingly.

"Hey," I said in faux offense, "I'm standing right here."

They both laughed lightly at my comment before Aaron followed me back into the kitchen, setting the glasses in the sink while I folded the towel back onto the counter neatly. "I'll let Daryl be the one to tell you the news, all good things I swear."

I nodded slowly, "Okay."

"Oh...but can I ask you something really quick?" he asked, lowering his voice a little, "He said something to me about bringing me some rabbits...is that a good thing? Or...?" he trailed off.

My eyes widened a little, "Oh, he likes you."

"Really?" he asked somewhat shocked.

"Yeah, you think he offers to get rabbits just for anybody? Whatever you said, you definitely won him over."

He nodded with a content smile, "Alright, well...good."

Before we could say anything else, Daryl emerged from the hall from which he disappeared, nodding back toward the front door as he locked eyes with me, "Ya ready?"

"Mhm." I nodded, following him out while Aaron trailed behind us to see us out.

We said our many thank you's and goodbyes to show our gratitude for dinner before we both left the house side by side, Daryl chewing on his lip nervously all the while. He looked a little unsure and I silently knew he wouldn't tell me anything until I asked. Simply because he was lost in his own little world, thinking about anything and everything that went on in that conversation I could only assume. Sometimes he just needed a little push.

"Well, are you gonna tell me about it or what?" I asked, nudging his elbow lightly.

He glanced over at me and tried to give me the best smile that he could muster, but I could tell he was nervous for a reason that was unknown to me. Aaron assured me that it wasn't anything bad and seemed almost excited about whatever the news could be, though Daryl's expression said otherwise.

"He brought me into the garage ta show me this old bike he found a while back, said I could have it. Tune it up, take it out whenever I want." he mumbled.

A few beats of silence passed which caused me to assume that was all, "Well...that's great. I mean you haven't ridden one in so long, and honestly I'm starting to miss it too."

He shook his head, "That ain't it. He said he wants me to go out with him to bring new people in. Said he wasn't comfortable doin it with Eric anymore, thinks I'll be good for it. I dunno why he offered it to me in the first place, but...the job's mine if I want it." he blurted out seemingly all at once.

"Okay..." I nodded slowly, still not seeing the problem.

He cleared his throat, "Well, what do you think?"

I blinked, "What do you mean, what do I think?"

"M' askin what ya think bout the job."

I shook my head with a smile, "Honey, it doesn't matter what I think, you're the one who's going to have to do it."

He shrugged, "Just...want yer opinion."

"Well...I think it would be good for you, getting outside these walls more often instead of being stuck here all the time. It's a nice chance to get to know Aaron, make a new friend." I paused for a moment, "But I think the most important thing is that it makes you happy, and it's something you actually want to do."

He stopped walking then, gently taking my hand in his to turn me to face him, "So, ya wouldn't be mad if I took it?"

My eyes widened, quickly shaking my head, "No, no. Why would I ever be mad?"

"Cause I ain't gonna see ya as often...I'll be gone for who knows how long while yer here just waitin on me to get back."

I tilted my head a little, "Yeah, I know...but that's okay. I mean you won't be gone all the time, you'll come back for a little then leave for a little, we'll get a good routine down. But I think it's a good opportunity to get out there; do something you'll actually like. I want that for you."

Relief was brought back to his expression as he lifted my hand up to his mouth to place a gentle kiss there, "Yeah, I want that too. Which is why...I told him I'd do it."

I smiled happily at him before wrapping my arms around his waist in a tight hug, burying my face in his chest. I will admit, this whole thing will probably take some getting used to, but I didn't mind one bit as long as he was doing that brought him some kind of joy. And at the end of the day, this seemed perfect for him.

"I'm very proud of you." I admitted quietly.

He hummed, "Could say the same thing bout you, officer." he said, his tone turning a bit teasing.

I rolled my eyes, "Quit."

But he only chuckled softly, running his hands across my back while leaning down to kiss my cheek a few times until my faux annoyance disappeared.

As we finally made it back, it surprised me to see that both of the houses they gave us were still empty, signaling that no one had made it back yet as there wasn't a single light on through the windows. Apparently, they were far more polite than us when it came to staying at the event. Though as I began to turn and walk up the steps, I noticed that Daryl's arm fell from my waist as instead he began walking away from me. My brows furrowed, watching him cross the street.

A small smirk grew on my face, seeing him move further and further away without looking back once, "You forget which one is ours already?" I joked.

Finally, he glanced over his shoulder. "Oh..." he muttered, "I thought when we agreed ta head to the house, ya meant our house."

"I did." I said, jutting my thumb back toward the structure behind me, "This is the house."

He shook his head, "Nah, it's not. According ta Aaron, that one over there is ours."

I squinted my eyes, panning back and forth between the small home and him a few times before finally confessing, "I'm lost."

A small chuckle escaped him while he slowly walked back over to where I was rooted in place, "I really gotta spell it out for ya?"

"Hey, easy. I've had a few drinks tonight, be nice."

"Yeah, alright." he smiled, "Well, I talked ta Aaron bout settin up a little surprise for ya. And that surprise just so happens to be...our house." he said, taking my hand to place something small in my palm.

I glanced down to see it was a set of keys, the dots immediately connecting in my head the moment I realized it was real. My eyes widened as I looked back up to him, pointing toward the house once more. "That's our house?" I asked, "Like...our house?"

He nodded with a growing smile, clearly feeling quite proud of himself, "Wanna go check it out?"

"Uh, yeah." I spoke as if it were obvious, practically dragging him along across the pavement as I couldn't have been more excited.

The outside was painted white with a plethora of flowers planted on either side of the steps, the multitude of colors really bringing the place to life. And on top of that it had a porch swing. He really outdid himself with that one.

I couldn't seem to get through the gate fast enough to make it up toward the door, anxiously anticipating what was inside. "You wanna do the honors?" I asked as I briefly looked over my shoulder at him.

"Nah, you got it baby." he reassured.

I smiled brightly before turning back around to unlock the handle, the keys jingling quietly as I did so, pushing the wooden door open to reveal the inside. And just by the very first look, I could already tell I loved it.

The layout was very simple, a staircase on the left and the living area on the right, the large glass doors being a nice added touch to open and close the entrance to the room whenever we wanted. My eyes darted around everything as I stepped inside, Daryl flicking the light on from behind me to bring the room a nice orange glow. I took note of all the beautiful decor as I slowly made my way down the hall, seeing it opened up into a kitchen with a small dining table and chairs just off to the side.

Everything blended together utterly flawless, reminding me just how much we needed normality. How much we deserved it. And I couldn't have conjured up a more perfect image of the home Daryl and I would settle into. The home that was now ours.

And it only got better once we ventured upstairs. There was a small guest bathroom and an extra bedroom, a place where maybe Carl could crash every now and then to get away from his crazy dad. And then the master bedroom just down the hall, it almost took my breath away.

The bed was huge, sitting in the middle of the room along with two large bookshelves aligning the walls to accompany the large windows. I was absolutely over the moon at the amount of books I had to read now, ones that were mine to keep and pick through whenever I wanted. The two extra doors led to the walk-in closet, and the master bathroom that was especially shiny. It had a tub, two sinks, and a shower with a glass door. The really fancy ones that I only used to see in movies that almost everyone was insanely jealous of.

With a breath, I slowly turned back around to face him, walking over to the middle of the bedroom and seeing the little grin he had on his face. "Ya like it?"

"Like it?" I questioned in disbelief, "My mouth hasn't closed since the second I walked in here." I said sarcastically, looking around the bedroom once more to take it all in.

He chuckled at my comment before I felt his arms wrap around my middle, resting his chin on my shoulder, "I'll take that as a good thing." he murmured.

"It's a very good thing," I confirmed, running my hands along his forearms, "I can't believe it's ours."

"Mhm." he hummed, his lips pressing against the skin on my neck. The same spot that made me shiver.

A slow smile was brought to my face the more I thought about not having to be quiet anymore, no one else being around to hear us in the privacy of our own home. Not only now, but for however many years to come. We had our own space to do pretty much whatever we wanted for the first time in two years, and boy was I planning on taking advantage of that.

I slowly turned to face the king-sized bed before us, eyeing it as I subtly licked my lips in suspense, "This room is really nice..."

But before he even got a chance to respond, I took his arms from around me and quickly moved him around my frame, lightly pushing him down onto the mattress. A look of surprise crossed his features, before it was replaced with a smirk upon watching me climb on top of him.

"God, it's such a shame we have to ruin it." I finished.

"Such a damn shame." he agreed before grabbing the back of my neck and pulling me down for a heated kiss.

I couldn't help but moan softly as the warmth of his tongue invaded my mouth, swirling around hungrily while his hands pulled me almost flush against him. He gripped my hips tightly, lightly guiding them back and forth against him to create the friction we had been craving, already feeling my stomach flutter with butterflies. My hands began to unbutton his shirt impatiently, needing to feel his rough skin beneath my palms. It was almost like magic with how fast I got to the bottom, causing him to instinctively flip over so he could shrug it off of his broad shoulders, tossing it behind him carelessly.

His mouth came back down to attach onto my neck, sucking and nipping every bit of skin he could reach all while hiking the skirt of my dress up, his hands running down to give my thighs a generous squeeze. I hummed, my chest rising and falling dramatically with every breath that passed through my lips, feeling his hands inching closer to where I needed him most.

"God...I need you." I whispered.

A growl erupted from him at the sound of my plea, not needing to be told twice as his thick fingers curled around my tights and the edge of my panties, pulling them completely off my legs in one go. I sighed shakily as his head dipped down to then leave a trail of open-mouth kisses down my abdomen, his tongue darting out to taste the sweetness of my flesh. He groaned quietly to himself, his back muscles flexing all while he slowly spread my legs apart for him to settle between them.

My hips shifted upward in impatience, whimpering at just the thought of him finally giving me what I needed. Considering how active we were when the prison was still intact, I felt I had been deprived of his mouth for far too long, seeing as he always wanted to spoil me every chance he got. Though he seemed to be enjoying torturing me now. Kissing teasingly along my thighs and forcing my legs to stay in place no matter how much I wanted to squirm.

But even he had his breaking point, one where he couldn't hold out any longer than he already had, pushing himself to the limit just as he was doing to me.

"Fuck, you taste so good." he muttered, his nose brushing against my mound.

A shiver of anticipation rolled through me, before I felt the tip of his tongue lick a slow strip up my slit, causing my muscles to flex and my head to roll back. "Oh...yes." I moaned softly.

He hummed affectionately, the sound alone vibrating through my body, before his mouth fully crashed down against my aching cunt. My eyelids fluttered blissfully, gasping in pleasure while his tongue lapped eagerly against my clit, burying his face into my folds. My hands traveled down to weave through his hair, gently tugging at the roots as if to keep him in place right where he was. A low sound rumbled from him at the feeling of my fingers in his soft locks, his lips sucking at my sensitive flesh. I felt his pace pick up with the growing excitement he seemed to possess, his hips grinding slightly against the bed as he ate me hungrily. Growing hard within merely moments.

His tongue flicked in and out of my entrance, tasting the pure arousal that pooled there, his thumb moving up to gently rub over my clit. That alone elicited a small cry from my mouth, my back arching from off the bed. "Oh my God." I sighed, pulling his hair tighter.

"Mm..." he murmured against my skin, his lips moving away momentarily so he could slowly insert two fingers into my entrance.

The whines and blissful sounds of ecstasy I let out only grew louder when he curled the digits to hit that sweet spot, feeling content in the privacy of our own space. Perhaps I even exaggerated a little just because I could. I wasn't worried about the others, or potentially even walkers hearing us with our minds hazy with lust. I felt I could fully let go.

I could hear his breathing grow more ragged as he solely focused on my pleasure, and I felt my stomach tighten as my orgasm built. But before I could focus on it for too long, he suddenly stopped, causing me to let out a muffled sound of protest feeling his mouth pull away from my core.

He pulled himself up to hover over me, his voice low and gravely with desire, "Open."

I didn't protest one bit at his demand, opening my mouth to stick my tongue out, watching a string of saliva fall from his lips and land directly into my own, swallowing it with a pleased hum. His eyes darkened further, leaning down to capture my lips in a sloppy kiss, his hand coming up into my hair while he gently sucked on my tongue. I giggled quietly at the feel of his mouth desperately clinging to mine, still being able to taste the lingering sweetness of myself.

But it didn't last for long as we were both growing far too impatient to wait any longer, the remains of our clothes shedding off in record speed. His bare skin felt burning hot against mine, the back of my thighs being pressed against his chest while he shifted between them once more, stroking himself a few times. I bit my lip as I watched intently, loving the sight of him like this. The sight that was only reserved for me, like he was baring his soul for my eyes alone. The passion and vulnerability he showed making it all the more precious.

When he caught me staring, he turned his head to press hot kisses against my ankle and up toward the side of my foot that rested against his shoulder, "My pretty angel..." he muttered, "So perfect."

I shuttered as he showered me with praise, feeling his tip push into me while his large hands now gripped onto my legs, slowly inserting himself. My eyes squeezed shut as I let out a choked moan at how good he always felt, so unreal, as if we were truly made for each other. Hearing the low and almost animalistic sounds from him only turned me on more, my hips wiggling ever so slightly as if to coax him to move. And he gladly obliged, easily beginning a steady rhythm as he thrusted in and out of me.

The sound of our skin slapping together and pent-up sinful sounds filled the room, our bodies connecting in the most intimate way. His movements were skilled and purposeful, my wetness almost causing him to slip out and falter with how aroused I was. But I couldn't help it. The vision of him bucking into me at a rapid pace, the hair falling over his hooded eyes as he concentrated, panting heavily and whimpering at the sensations. It only caused the heat in my stomach to grow once more.

"Shit," I cursed breathlessly, "Yes...yes- that feels so good." I moaned, the indication that I was close.

"Mhm." he groaned, his pace picking up to begin roughly pounding into me.

I cried out again as his dick hit that same sensitive spot inside of me, his hip rolling accordingly as if he had it memorized by now. Knowing exactly how I operated, which strings to pull in order to make me feel good. My legs began to tingle like a soft buzzing, my hands gripping the sheets below me while I gasped, feeling my entire body practically turning to jelly from his touch. My flesh was covered in a thin line of sweat as my hips jutted forward to meet his pace, trying to finally feel that release of pure euphoria.

"Come on, baby." I heard him mutter, the deep vibration of his voice ultimately causing me to chase my peak.

I moaned loudly while my body trembled with utter bliss, my orgasm hitting me so hard I could've sworn my vison went black for a moment. I felt his dick tremble inside of me, my walls squeezing him with every sloppy thrust he delivered before I heard him let out a deep grunt, quickly pulling out of me to spill himself onto my stomach. The two of us froze for a moment, coming down from the high we shared as I fought to catch my breath, my eyes glazing over, humming in deep satisfaction.

Daryl then slowly lowered himself to collapse on top of me, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck all while placing a few lazy kisses there. I smiled tiredly, my hands rubbing his back in a soothing manner and I felt his body envelope me entirely, like a warm protective shield.

"I love you." his gruff voice whispered in my ear.

My smile grew as I felt his teeth grazing my lobe, gently biting down on it, "I love you too..."

~ Thanks for reading! (This took me forever to write, but I think this might be one of my favorite chapters yet:))

Taglist ~ @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @winterassassin1804 @marsmallow433 @catlalice @writingstreetspirit @silentlysurffering98 @mystictf @remuslittlesister @in0320

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x original character #daryl dixon series #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead series #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #desert rose

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huffelpuff210 · 1 day ago

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My girl Part 4

Mafia Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You get some bad news and decide to take things into your own hands,

The next morning you are awoken to a loud knock to your apartment door, but the knocking sounded off, You open the door to see the manager hammering a note to your door, you look at the note confused,

“You are upping my rent?” You asked before he could leave

“Sorry, but I need the money too.” He says with a cigar in his mouth,

“I can’t afford this.” You say

“Not my problem.” He says walking away

You groan if you could… you would live underground,

You take a deep breath, picking up your cell phone, Calling Bruce to pick up a few extra hours he was happy to give them to you.

You also applied for a part time job at a clinic,

They wee happy to bring you on,

…………..

The problem about working non stop to afford a crappy apartment is you were dead tired, actually scratch that you were exhausted, you have been at this for weeks, you were also mentally exhausted, you haven’t seen Bucky for weeks but only because of you working like an animal,

You unlock your door entering your apartment when you shut the door a light is turned on,

“It’s been a while doll.” You hear next to your ear you nearly jump out of your skin you right hook out of instinct but he caught it, you met his eyes

“My god Bucky you trying to give me a heart attack?” You asked

He chuckled

“Nice right hook a little sloppy but still not too bad.” He says with your fist still in his hand,

“Wait how the hell did you get in here?” You asked

He finally lets go of your fist,

“I have my ways.” He says

“Now my question is where the hell have you been?” He asked his nose inches from yours his eyes scanning yours

“Working.” You say

“Really?’ He asked

“I will explain if you let me change first.” You says

He smirks

“Okay doll take your time.” He says

You nod making your way to the bedroom,

Bucky was concerned, not only had you dropped off the grid, Bruce informed him that you picked up more hours and he also learned you got an extra job,

When he snuck into your apartment he found not only you were not home yet, but he looked through the apartment seeing you barely had any food, bills piled up and your manager decided to up the rent to a insane amount for this dump,

It pissed him off, here you were trying to make it by and this ass hole raises it, He could just go down there and kick the shit out of the dude, but he had a better idea but first he needed to work his charm he knew you were a proud woman who was used to being on her own,

So he just needed to play his cards right,

you exit your bedroom, in a pair of sweatpants and your old middle school jersey, your hair was up in a messy bun,

“Sorry that took so long.” You say

“Not at all doll, have a seat.” Bucky says motioning to the couch,

You arched a brow not really sure what was going on, Bucky looked serious like something was wrong,

“Is everything alright?” You asked looking at him

He chuckled

“I should be asking you that.” He says

You tilt your head

“Is there something you want to tell me?” He asked you

“Huh?” You asked

He showed you the rent,

“How did you?” You asked

“Like I said I have my ways.” He says smirking

“Bruce also told me you picked up more hours, and you have an extra job.” He says

“It’s my business it’s fine..” You say

“Your not fine your exhausted.” He says sternly

You give him a look and he looks right back at you,

He cups your cheeks with his large hand,

“Let me help you doll, let me take care of you.” He says his voice stern

“Just let me in.” He says you he can see you were hesitating

And in one quick motion his lips connect with yours which took you by surprise you felt yourself break at that moment, the electricity and passion in the kiss had you wanting more you had never felt such a feeling you didn’t want that to end your arms wrapping around his neck,

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lilliancdoodles · 1 year ago

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I was listening to Seventeen from Heathers and my brain is so FitPac crazy that I started thinking who would be who in a Fitpac Heathers AU? thing? story? This is based more on the musical than the movie and not everything fit's 100%. idk, im deranged and these are my thoughts. lyrics that come to mind for the character choices will be in italics.

------------------------------- Veronica Sawyer - Pac I think qPac would also be good at forgeries, and the other character dynamics would make more sense with Pac in this position. He is really good at manipulating things and can stand up for himself, but I can also see him getting sucked into being apart of the Heather, and accidentally leaving Martha (Mike). J. D. - Fit Fit as the loner who's the emo kid, and defends Pac with everything he can. + JD's dad have a demolition company explaining his knowledge of explosives. Cares a lot but it can get misdirected (into murder that Fit would 100% know how to cover up). HEAVY leaning into 'protective Fit' with the violence.

Heather Chandler - Cellbit Leader of the Heathers. Very manipulative and knows how to control people and get them to do what he wants, plus the red coloring. And totally would haunt Pac after the murder. Heather Duke - Bagi Constantly challenging Chandler for power and when Chandler dies she takes the opportunity to be the leader. And though it never gets brought up after the first song, Duke is the head of the yearbook committee. Heather McNamara - Tubbo Some of the stuff that McNamara says I can totally imagine Tubbo saying. 'If I had a meat cleaver down the center of your skull i'd have matching halves, that's very important' (Beautiful) I also like that this means that Pac saves Tubbo during the 'Shine a Light reprise' song. He would be confident but under the surface he's scared and finally breaks in 'Shine a Light Reprise' Kurt Kelly- Foolish 'He's the smartest guy on the football team, which is kinda like being the tallest dwarf' (Beautiful) I know Foolish is really smart, but I think his playing dumb really works for this character. If he dialed up the teasing to an 11 and was an asshole I could see him being like Kurt. Ram Sweeney- Bad Gonna be honest, Bad is here cause having Foolish and Bad being these best friends that get murdered together and get written to be gay lovers in a forged suicide note works way too well. I don't think anything else that Bad does fit's this character at all. Maybe it's just his teasing and pranks but more and mean. Though i think it would be funny if he still doesn't swear, but he's still the school bully. This is mostly just here for Foolhalo content. Kurt and Rams' parents - Phil and Missa 'Im talking you and me. In the summer of '83' (I love my dead gay son) They are Kurt and Ram's gay dads. That it. that's the only reason. Martha Dunstock - Mike 'My best friend since diapers' (Beautiful) Pac and Mike are best friends. I don't really know how to handle the crush on Ram and the whole Kindergarten song. But I don't think anyone else could fit the role of the best friend. Mrs. Flemming - Baghera This is the hippie teacher and I feel that Bags would totally be crazy and try to be the fun teacher in the 'Shine a Light' song. Obviously qBags is better at this, but imagining a peak Purgatory Bags as this teacher. She's trying her best. I'm probably not going to do anything with this i just needed to get my thoughts out. A fun thing, If you have any other ideas for who would be who, or if you have more thoughts on my picks, please feel free to discuss.

#qsmp #qsmp au #FitPac #LCChats #Heathers au #I might draw Fit Pac and the Heathers tbh #but I have like 13 other things I want to draw first #so no guarantees #Also in my head 'Blue' doesn't exist in this #They're using 'I Say No'#'Blue' is just WAY to out of character for this AU #And it's up to you if you want 'Dead Girl Walking' to be here #For me personally it's not but you do you

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muntitled · 2 months ago

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Tic-Tac-Toe

Pairing: The Salesman x Fem!reader

Summary: Every Wednesday your schedule consisted of attending classes during the day, and satisfying the needs of a sadist through the night.

Warning: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Violence, Kidnapping, Isolation, SociallyAnxious!Reader, Blindfolds, Stalking, Knives, Blood, Gore, Stockholm Syndrome, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Insertion, Fingering, Rough Sex, Erotophonophilia, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Dacryphillia, Sadomasochism, Gunplay, Deepthroating, Breeding Kink, Unprotected sex

A/N: Hell is empty

4k Words

You're strapped in a chair, like always, and you are blindfolded because he doesn't trust easily.

It's terribly annoying.

At any point of during and after your little 'arrangement' you could have called the cops. Doesn't he understand that?

Every Wednesday, you're taken from the warmth of your apartment, and you're delivered right back at 00:00 on the dot, every Thursday with barely an inch of life left in your bones. You'd either always come back wet, with semen sliding between your thighs, or with mysterious marks- old and new- crawling underneath your sweater. Whatever mood he was in, he'd always leave you feeling sore.

It should have bothered you.

The thought of seeing this large, domineering shadow-in-a-suit every Wednesday should not overwhelm you with all these feelings of excitement. Instead, you should do like all the mentally ill girls do and just get some fucking help.

But you want him to trust you, for some reason.

Which was utterly ridiculous considering the fact that to him, you were something akin to a porcelain wind up toy for his amusement. You had no business requesting he remove the blindfold aspect but still, you asked anyway. Toy's couldn't be trusted, could they?

"I'd really appreciate it if I didn't have to wear one of these everytime I visit your place." He removes the blindfold, and in a second, your vision is filled with nothing but him. One moment you were in the cozy warmth of your dorm room. Curled up on the couch while your roommate spends her youth effectively- out with boyfriends and friends and everything you didn't have. You answered the front door when you heard his special knock, like you always do. You walked with him to the cab. You let him put on the blindfold. You said 'I'm fine’ when the taxi driver got a little too nosy and you let him lead you away from your boring life.

If only for a few hours.

You'd let him do whatever he wanted for those few hours because such surrender was almost sacred. You forfeited your safety in his hands, to do with it whatever he pleased and in that, you found rest. Whatever happens, happens.

Forget this room- what was essentially his personal dungeon, windowless, red and boasting various torture objects- your eyes are only on him.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't feel the need to kidnap me anymore? We do this every Wednesday," You become more childish around him and he lets you. Like you forgot you are a fully autonomous university student. There was power in that too. "Surely we've established some sort of trust?” He doesn't respond to you immediately. You crane your head up at him, hungry to lock eyes with his cold, empty slits that enchanted you body and soul.

You are in love with him, perhaps.

That's a logical response isn't it?

You laugh almost.

Listening to yourself try to rationalize your fondness for such a horrible man.

Said horrible man is silent. All you hear is the clicking of his dress shoes as he moves to the leather seat directly across from yours. Your eyes scan over all his movements.

The right corner of his lip quirks up. A small coffee table creates the only distance between you and he bends over to pour you both a generous glass of Brandy on the rocks. You don't drink it. Ever since he's been bringing you here, you never do. He knows this, yet still he pours.

"This relationship isn't about trust." He says finally. Something inside you, that is perhaps a little broken, actually purrs at the sound of his voice. You're hyperaware of your thighs squeezing together on the leather seat. They're spilling out of the sundress you purposely wore today.

Lots of your clothes were for the function of comfort. Your body was full and curvy and not always something to be advertised, unless you wished it to. Tonight, you wanted to show off as much as possible.

A thick leather band is keeping both your wrists locked to the armrests, while he sits back, free and so irrevocably in charge it should scare you. It should. But the sick and incredibly deranged thing is that it doesn't.

Outside, the rain is beating down on whatever building you're in, casting a thick veneer of grey all across the city.

But inside this velvet room... your heart is hammering inside its cage as you watch him undo the buttons of his crisp suit. A black one today. Jet black like his hair.

Although-

"You've got more grey in your hair than last week." You can't help but say.

He tilts his head in inquisition. "Are you insulting me or complimenting me?"

"I'll leave that up to you to decide," you shrug your shoulders as much as you can under these limited restraints. At least he hasn't restrained your ankles this time. Progress. "In here, you're the boss. Right?"

He takes a sip of his drink until finally, you've finally locked eyes. Your bare toes curl and your back arches slightly as you sit a bit straighter in your seat. Like you're in a lecture hall, although he is far more interesting than any of your professors.

"I'm not as young as I used to be," he finally says as he takes one more sip of his drink before bringing his briefcase onto the coffee table. Its presence is ominous and so horribly loud for an inanimate object. It kickstarts all your dormant nerves, revving up all the rest of your senses that have yet to catch up to the fact that you were facing the man of both your desires and nightmares once again.

"Who have you told about our arrangement?" The question causes you to roll your eyes. He watches the petulant movement with that same, silent smile and blank eyes. He unclicks the briefcase. Your stomach lurches and your thighs squeeze together. Pavlov's dog.

"Every time you ask me-" an object clinks onto the table. A butcher knife.

You try to pull your eyes away from the objects he's placing on the table, one by one. "Everytime you ask me if I've told anyone about our arrangement-" another object. A wooden spoon beside the knife. "Everytime I tell you the same thing."

Your throat closes when he uncovers a dildo. Bright pink and fucking menacing. "Carry on talking." He says, snapping your gaze away from the objects lining the table.

"I don't have any friends." Your voice is wobblier. You try to deny the sight of the rabbit vibrator, "It's the reason you picked me." You clear your throat as you hoped to clear all the nerves beginning to fog your mind. "Someone could've followed me here. B-But I don't really know anyone enough to care." The final object that clunks onto the glass coffee table and this time, you're unable to look away.

"Are we ready to begin?"

The metal revolver laying quiet and undisturbed beside the rabbit vibrator makes everything else on the table look like children's toys. Even the butcher knife.

You pull at the restraints, your legs quivering slightly as you shift and writhe in the seat. He studies you as closely as you were once studying him. You can see the excitement begin to flood his eyes at the physical manifestation of your discomfort.

"Now you're getting it." He nods sardonically, taking another sip from his glass before placing the briefcase on the floor beside him. "You were a little too happy to see me," he joked, letting out an airy exhale of laughter.

"You wanna hazard a guess as to what we'll be playing today?" He's smiling, genuinely. With that look in his eyes you can tell he's hovering in the clouds. Meanwhile you've begun to feel real fear. No matter how regular these visits might become you'd never get used to him. It's impossible. Not when he found new and daring ways to torture and pleasure you every single week. You couldn't get used to something as brash and unconventional as him. Like the conditions of a child in a broken home, he kept his tactics inconsistent so that every week is a new hell or perhaps- depending on his mood- heaven.

"If I guess wrong?" You swallow thickly and something dark in him settles. He spreads his legs more, there's a twitch inside his lips before he smiles again.

"Well, guessing isn't the game, so you'll be fine."

You nod your head... assessing the objects. There's menacing objects and household objects. Even just looking at them you can tell what they all have in common.

"Am I going to have to insert-"

"You're not guessing." His voice booms. He rests his elbow on the armrests, his hands corded with veins seem itching to do something, you're not sure what. "I said guess." He commands.

"Hide and seek?"

He snickers, "A favourite-"

"More like your favourite." You snip back, "I couldn't sit down the whole week." You frown at the memory. That week he'd brought you to an abandoned warehouse, letting you run the entire perimeter full.

"It's in your best interest to keep coming to our sessions-" he reminds you, snapping you back into the present.

"You're paying my university fees, I'm not complaining." You nod, before plastering a thin smile on your face, "All I have to do every week is prostitute myself to a literal sadist-"

"Have you given up on guessing today's game?" He didn't like you making him hyper aware of the fact that this dynamic, whatever it is, is considered objectively bad. And so you're not surprised when he swiftly moves past the topic.

He leans forward. His large hand disappears under his chair before uncovering a small whiteboard. Four lines- 2 horizontals are running across 2 verticals, creating 9 blocks. He stands up, while your eye is still focusing on the board. From your point of view it sits underneath the row of objects on the table. You don't even realize your right wrist strap is being untied.

"Colour?" He asks, pushing a crate of whiteboard markers towards you. With your now free hand you pick the pink one.

He snickers. "Predictable." He whispers before placing a large, domineering hand on your head. He presses down your braids, patting you like a stray he's rescued from the cold. You stare aimlessly ahead, fearing you won't be able to contain everything you've begun to feel for him if you lock eyes now.

"We're playing tic-tac-toe," he relents. His hand lingers on your head a bit longer before he's stepping away.

"With a twist, I presume?"

"Clever girl," he nods, walking back to his seat. "So you're aware of the objects."

"Place a gun in front of a girl and she's going to notice."

"Paranoid girl." He tsks before leaning forward.

"You want to start or should I?"

"Wait-" you swallow, "What happens if I win?"

He smiles that dazzling, debonair smile.

"You pick which one goes inside you."

Lightning cracks across the sky. A chorus of thunder roars all at once like some kind of phenomenon and your lips stutter open.

"Th-That's insane I-"

"I shouldn't have to remind you that you came here out of your own volition. "

"What happens if you win?"

"Then I choose." He says.

Your eyes skate over the object. It doesn't take an ivy league graduate to hazard a guess as to which of the objects he's itching to stick inside you.

"There's a fucking knife here-" You're trembling. Tears are pooling in your eyes. It doesn't even matter that you're a somewhat decent tic tac toe player. It doesn't matter that you're confident in this game. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

"And there's also a spoon," he nods, neutrally, "And a vibrator, and a dildo. Etcetera. Etcetera." He leans forward, unclicking his whiteboard pen, "your words are just words, Darling. You're just listing things. Start," he says, with a deadly lilt in his voice. "Or I will."

You scramble to uncap your marker with one hand, all while he watches with dead and black eyes. You knew that whoever starts the game was placed at a big advantage and so you're nearly scrambling to place that dignified X in the center block.

"Clever girl." He says once again, drawing his blue 'O' directly beside your pink 'X'. You aim for the block above him. He blocks it. You aim for the block beside the center. He blocks that too.

Your victory comes too quickly. You barely feel it as you strike a line vertically through the blocks. 3 X's.

Relief washes over you but it's overcast with doubt. Like you're celebrating in trepidation as you watch him stand up.

"Congratulations! Which do you choose?"

"I can pick anything?" You ask, staring up at him, bright eyes wild with the adrenaline that comes with wanting to preserve your organs.

"Anything you want, my little winner."

You begin to lean over. His eyebrows quirk up when you wrap a small hand around his wrist.

"I pick that." You say breathlessly. Your eyes zeroed in on his hands at his side. And you watch as he walks towards you, as if compelled by an unforeseen force. His palms are calloused underneath yours and you blow out several unstable breaths as he stands above you. So imposing it's breathtaking.

"You sure?" It's the way he asks it that has you second guessing. And perhaps he sees the caution seeping into your eyes because there's excitement lurking in his. Before you're even able to formulate a response, his hand is locked tightly around your esophagus, vacuuming all pathways shut until you're writhing for air.

"A fine, fine choice," He's becoming more and more riled up the more you writhe in your seat, trying to scrounge for a single breath of air. He doesn't let you. Instead he moves behind you, before leaning down.

If you could breathe, you would shiver at the feeling of his lips behind your ear. "Here we go-" he whispers, before reaching around your torso with his free hand before forcing your legs open. The second he lets his three digits stab into your cunt, he uncurls the grip on your throat as you make a horrid sound somewhere between a moan, a scream, and a haggard gasp. "FUCK- Sl-Slowdown-" you knew better than to request something like that. All you hear is a snicker from behind you as pain blossoms all across your nether regions. He's not gentle. He's not kind. He doesn't allow you to adjust to his fingers before he's scissoring them inside you, causing a blood-curdling scream to rip itself out of your throat. Your back is arched and you're trying to get away from him but the fucking persists.

"You've been wet like this for me the entire time?" He sounds absolutely demented, behind you, "You wanted this didn't you?" He bites at your ear as the first tears begin to pool at your eyes, "My little winner."

"P-Please stop-" His fingers are restless inside you. Curling and uncurling. Scissoring and stabbing as if wanting to open you up and split you all the way in half.

"What a pretty little pussy, huh? Look at what a mess you're making."

"When-" you can't form words. "When- Stop?" It's all you're able to say as your nails dig into the material of his suit.

"The sooner you cum the sooner it stops."

You doubted your ability to cum under these circumstances. He's setting an ungodly pace and it's all so hurried and in a frenzy, it's like your brain does not have time to understand if you even like what's currently being done to you.

"What- Do you want you want my help?" you begin to shake your head. "I'll help you, baby-"

His other hand reaches over and pinches your clit.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm is quite literally forced out of you. Your hips writhe and your ass tries to leave the seat as the first feelings of pleasure rip through you by force. "That's it, Clever girl," he coos, still curling his fingers inside you, "That's my Clever girl." He says once more before stilling his movements. For a second you just sit there, trying to collect your breath while he's still inside you. All at once, his hands are removed from your body.

He grabs a handkerchief from his breast pocket and you watch him clinically wipe his hands before erasing the marks on the board with the same cloth. A very clear boner pushes against his black slacks yet still his face is calm.

"Alright, My turn to start-"

"WHAT!? B-But I won." You scream, absolutely seething with desperation.

"You know everyone who plays 'X' has a significantly higher chance at winning-" You say with your eyes narrowed. He nods.

"And you know that too, which means we each should be granted alternating times to play ‘X’. Regardless if you won or not." You slump in your seat, suddenly far too aware that your bare cunt is exposed.

"Don't mope." He says, "It's not cute." Before drawing his 'X' in the center.

You close your legs, sitting upright with a new zeal of self preservation as you grab ahold of your marker.

You draw your pink 'O' underneath his.

You both play many more rounds. All ending in ties. This is how you play- with a frazzled grip and closed legs. A shiver every now and then overcomes you with the gravity of your aftershocks. His snickers bring your eyes up to his. He speaks as he makes his move.

"You're so focused on blocking," he sighs, "You're not even trying to win anymore-"

"I'm not letting you stick a knife in my cunt." You nod in finality before blocking another move.

"Not even if I say please?" He asks, making a faux pout.

"Fuck off."

"In that case, I have to win."

Your heart kickstarts as he pushes his pen to the board. Images flash across your mind. Blood splattered across his gorgeous face. Your blood as he fucks the sharp end of a knife inside you. You nearly vomit while he speaks. “Easy as-" you block him.

"Tic-" you block him again.

"Tac-" you block him some more

"Toe- I Win."

A victory that somehow escaped your vision. He strikes a line diagonally through the squares and your stomach sinks. He stares at you from across the room. His eyes so deeply satisfied you can feel it radiating off of him in waves.

You lower your teeth to the other restraint, violently trying to free your left wrist from its oppressive hold. And you watch as the devil slowly rises.

Your heart aches. Your brain is sent into complete alarm as your flight or fight kicks in and your sympathetic nervous system fires.

"Now, which one would look pretty inside you?" He drags his fingers along the objects, undoubtedly an act of taunting. You stomp your feet on the ground. You try to push the chair underneath you but it's plastered to the floor.

"Please!" Tears are running thickly. They cloud your vision. You don't even see the way his smile falls enough for him to rub over the bulge in his slacks.

"Fuck," he says gravelly as he relents and picks up the gun. "You're so fucking pretty when you're scared out of your fucking mind. You know that?"

You shake your head as he nears, wondering if this might really be the end. Has your body become too worn out by his games? Has the time for him to discard his toy finally dawned on you both? Is he all grown up with no need for such things as toys?

"PLEASE-NO-"

"Open your mouth." He's standing in front of you, your head directly in front of his raging bulge.

You shake your head, trying to move away but he rips your face towards him. "Listening to me is the only choice you have to make it out alive, Baby. You wanna live, don't you?" He's nothing but a tall figure, with the overhead lights shining around his head like a halo. Your face right by his bulge.

"Little girl needs to go to school." He nods, eyes fluttering shut, "She needs to complete her studies and get a good job so she wouldn't have to meet with scary men like me- Fuck-" it riled him up to no end to have you scared of him. You suppose it triggered a part of him that craved attention. He needed to feel like he existed and if that was reeped from fear then so be it.

"Stick the barrel in your mouth," the bottom of his hand coaxed open your jaw, and, as if on autopilot, you listen. Perhaps there is a way out of this. Perhaps you should just listen.

"That's it... Fuck," he brings your free hand up to rub his erection "That's it, Baby, stick it inside your mouth." Cold metal hits your lower teeth, "Stick it in like you would a cock." He says, looking down at you intently as your tongue unfurls and you suck the barrel in. "Shit-" he places his other hand on the back of your head before forcing you to take the gun deeper down your throat. He's trembling. Far too badly. And so is his finger on the trigger.

"Fuck, you're such a fucking whore, you know that?"

You're gagging and flailing around the barrel, saliva slides down.

So desperate to please him.

In your hast you don't even realize your left hand that had been restrained is now free. Your eyes are closed.

Please him.

Just please him and you'll live.

"That's my brainless girl..." he praises and that rouses something in you. It has your hips bucking against nothing.

"Such a stupid girl..." he continues, "You're gonna ride me, aren't you? You're gonna fuck me so good-" You're not about to tell him that sex wasn't supposed to be apart of this game. You're not stupid.

You faintly hear the sound of a belt unlooping. A zipper siding down. "You're making me so happy, baby." He admits before effortlessly lifting you from the chair until you're straddling him.

You're free.

When did that happen?

"F-Fuck, I need you to ride me." His head is leaning back against the chair. His tie hangs messily from his shirt that has two buttons undone.

You're free.

"Don't try anything," he warns, as he lifts you enough to pull his cock out of his pants. "Matter of fact. Keep it in your mouth while you ride me-" He slams you down onto his cock the very second those words leave his mouth. He's fucking into you with recklessness and fury and violence. His hair falls in his face but the gun is too heavy, without a hand there, it nearly slips from your mouth.

He's careful to catch it, forcing the barrel back in your mouth as he places a hand on your ass, controlling how your ass bounces on his lap. The gun offers motivation like no other. It has you arching your back and swirling your hips as you tighten your cunt around him.

He sticks the gun down too far and you gag. "You trying to get me to cum, huh? You little slut-" you nod, the tears still spilling as pleasure begins to stream through your brain. It has you excited by the prospect of being held at gunpoint. You realize with grave certainty that you've arrived at the point of no return.

"What a good girl- fuck-" he's ramming up into you, his hand on the gun twitching like his cock does. "I'm gonna fucking cum- FUCK-" he does and your orgasm immediately barrels into you at the exact same time. You try to ride him, to milk it as much as you can, to continue to make him happy.

"Such a stupid fucking slut-" he whispers, eyes hooded as his hips still spurt cum into you.

Your ears perk. You see his finger on the trigger move. You squeeze your eyes shut as you hear a click.

"Such a silly girl." You hear him say. "Don't worry, Baby, it isn't loaded." You're still in your body. You're still alive, on his lap, your sundress unfurling around you both.

"Not yet anyway."

#squid game #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game smut #the salesman #the salesman x reader #the salesman smut #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #squid game salesman

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tojbnuy · 3 months ago

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since you guys are asking sooo nicely here is a part 3 teehee. part 1 part 2 . art by @ _3aem on twt!!

bestfriend!satoru who’s always buying you new jewelry. esp with your initials on them, you’ve got bracelets and necklaces in golds and silvers because he knows you like both.

bestfriend!satoru who calls you at night and will always convince you to turn it into a facetime. he doesn’t think you realize just how appealing you look with your hair down, big glasses on and a thin strapped pyjama top. said straps falling down your shoulder as your busy talking and he’s trying so hard to listen but how can he when your tits just look so good and from this angle he’s got a clear view. ‘toru are you listening?’ ‘yeah pretty carry on’

bestfriend!satoru who hates it but finds himself feeling slightly insecure when you’re engaged in conversation with nanami. he knows nanami can actually converse with you about the books you read and some of the movies you watch, something satoru’s been meaning to catch up on so you could have these conversations with him instead. he’s complaining to suguru as nanami hugs you goodbye and everything just gets worse when you walk over with the most adorable smile only to tell him that nanami was taking you to the theatre. why the fuck do you want to go to the theatre?

bestfriend!satoru who knows how childish it is but the next time nanami is in the room satoru has you pressed up against his body, his hands firmly gripping your ass as he looks dead into nanamis eyes. ‘ouch toru too hard’ ‘so sorry pretty girl your ass is just too perfect’

bestfriend!satoru who asks you for lip balm but he always means he’s going to kiss it off of you. plenty of times he’s left with your lip combo pressed onto his lips and chin.

bestfriend!satoru who places a blanket over the two of you when your friends are over. his index finger playing with the hem of your tiny shorts. when he sees you listening too closely to nanamis boring ass stories he grabs a handful of your shorts and hikes it up until the crotch is pressed directly against your clit. he smirks at the hiss that leaves you . ‘y/n you okay?’ spoken aloud and now everyone’s staring at your flushed cheeks and the firm grip you have on his bicep.

bestfriend!satoru who is mean and he knows he is but he can’t stand it when you go all quiet with him. he noses at your cheek and presses little kisses all over your eyelids as you try to keep a stern face. ‘sorry baby it was an accident, let me kiss it better?’

bestfriend!satoru who has an obsession with your lips. yes he may be obsessed with many things about you but your lips are truly his kryptonite they are his downfall. he cuts you off mid sentence a lot just to give them a quick peck. sometimes he even licks them cos he’s a perv. ‘toru you can’t keep doing that’ ‘but why baby? i just find you too cute’

bestfriend!satoru who smiles like a loser when you include him in your monthly photo dumps.

bestfriend!satoru who adores when you seem equally as annoyed when he gets female attention. he’ll elongate it for the fun of it sometimes just so you’ll get mad and that means you’ll probably be sleeping at his house tonight. you know because everyone else is wasting his time.

bestfriend!satoru who bites random parts of your body. your tummy is a frequent victim. sometimes when you’re on the phone and his head is laying your lap he’ll turn over and bite your tummy. then your thighs. sometimes fingers too.

bestfriend!satoru who is a ‘where my hug at’ warrior. as soon as he enters the function he expects a big hug from you. and if he doesn’t get one he is at you in a heartbeat ‘baby where’s my hug?’ and his hands are roamingggg all over you, not an inch of you untouched.

bestfriend!satoru who knows sometimes all you need is a little reassurance. no one gets you like he does and sometimes you truly just need to hear His voice telling you you’re okay. sometimes you crave him just like he constantly craves you.

bestfriend!satoru who drags his index finger across your lips as you sleep. sometimes even sticks his thumb between your parted lips.

part 4 !!

tag list : @haruhatake @moncher-ire @startwithrecords @ranatherealestsigma @chjinua @whozeurdaddy @sukuxna0 @purp1eha1o @tibibibi123 @jjkysnk @missthatgirl @greensunflowerjuna @macchiatoast @suechii

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loveanddeepdick · 4 months ago

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nerd!choso who is so unknown at school that people go, “who?” when he’s mentioned. you’re pretty sure that only five people knew who he even was.

nerd!choso who is most definitely the president of some club like chess or dead poets society. he saw you at the club fair and fell in love

he thinks he went to heaven when you approach his table at club rush. yuji, although not in chess, was helping choso recruit people since his poor brother was too shy to talk to anyone. you go up to your friend yuji, making small talk with him.

“i’ve never played chess, yuji”, you giggled

“my brother can teach you!”

you glanced over at choso, not even noticing him at first. he was.. pretty. not pretty as in a way your friends would giggle at you when they saw you in a new outfit, not pretty as in the comments you got under your instagram post, but he was a natural beauty.

yuji had to snap you out of it. of course he noticed though, the way you two looked at each other.

nerd!choso who teaches you how to play chess, not letting the two other members of the small club play with you.

nerd!choso who helps you study, helps you carry textbooks, and helps you with midterms and any exams you have.

nerd!choso who has a nosebleed when you give him a small peck on the cheek when he finally confesses to you after months of pining for you.

you two had been studying in his dorm, comfortable with each other as your head was leaning against his shoulder as you two relished in each other’s presence.

“i like you.”

“oh! i like you t—“

“no. i like you.”

you turn to him. a small smile creeping onto your face. you didn’t say anything, only pressing a short kiss on his cheek. he immediately freezes up, his hands turning clammy and sweaty.

“i—uh..”

then, a trickle of blood comes from his nose, dripping onto his cupid’s bow.

“oh my god, cho!”, you gasped as you jump up, running to grab a tissue from his nightstand where he also kept a picture of you two and a bottle of lotion

you leaned in, wiping his nose attentively. as you chide and nurse him while mumbling, choso can’t help but stare down to take a peep at your tank top. he could see the valley of your boobs and the top of your bra. he choked, letting out a startled gasp before his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

he knocked out cold on the spot

nerd!choso who keeps a special picture of you in his wallet. he’ll be at his chess club meetings, at lectures, out with his family, and he keeps a hand on his wallet, knowing you’re in there.

the picture was a polaroid he took with your camera, your eyes were just out of frame but he could see a portion of your fucked out face, his cum dripping from your mouth and splattered on your cheeks. you were completely naked and sprawled out on his bed in his childhood home

it was almost funny how a hot goddess of a girl was naked, covered in his cum, and sprawled out, pussy on display on his old lego ninjago bedsheets.

nerd!choso who dedicates every single one of his orgasms to you. if you were with him, he’d find a way to cum inside you. in your mouth or your pussy, he’s find a way inside. of course, he’d also opt for cumming on your tits or on your face, he wasn’t greedy. but what he really wants, is to cum inside your cute little ass! he’s too shy to ask, of course, but the day would come eventually

if you weren’t here though, he’d pull up his personal secret album for you, filled photos and videos with shots of under your skirt, through the crack of your bedroom, from your window, when you just walking around with a tank top. he loved it all.

but his favorites were videos you’d allowed him to take while he was fucking you from the back or in missionary. he loved watching them on repeat, never getting bored of them. after a while, he gained the courage to show you as well.

you checked your phone to see a notification from your boyfriend and gasped when you opened it.

it was an image of the picture he kept of you beside his bed, covered in his semen. in the corner of the photo was his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.

‘i miss you 🖤’

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #choso kamo x reader smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo #choso x you #choso x reader #choso smut #jjk choso #jjk x you #rina thinking 📝

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nightingale-prompts · 5 months ago

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Danny lives in a horror movie-DC x DP prompt

Based on my favorite book series "tales from the gas station"

It's not every day that a mission requires the league to travel to middle America in a bid to obtain a highly cursed artifact but it certainly is today.

Locating the Seal of Silent Ashes was a task usually given to Justice League Dark but Constantine was currently busy. So that meant it was left to the poster boys to get this done. They dressed in civilian attire to investigate the last location of the seal starting with the first building on the edge of town. A small dusty gas station near the woods.

The inside had an awful smell, like death and cleaning fluid. The lights gave off a greenish-blue tint. Rats could be seen out of the corner of your eyes. Most of the chips were offbrand and crappy.

Behind the counter was the teenage boy chewing gum. He looked up at the group before going back to reading his book. He had clearly seen better days but didn't show signs of caring about the state of his hair or bags under his eyes. He drank his coffee.

The air felt off.

"Hey kiddo, do you mind giving us directions?" Clark started.

The kid narrowed his eyes as he popped his gum.

"You're not from here. That or you're from that cult in the woods. Listen I'm not joining. Seriously, cosmic nihilism and fatalism sounds doomed. Hey wait-" the teen checked his notes " No, the cult killed themselves in that mass suicide 2 weeks ago. I forgot, sorry."

The teen didn't say anything else as he went back to his book.

The horrified look of the adults shared was almost hilarious. At least to the teen if he looked up.

"Oh, and stay out of the woods. I don't want the police to come back and ask about who saw you last. Seriously if whatever is in there tears you apart I won't feel bad. I put those signs out forever ago and if I get one more girl covered in blood running in here screaming about her dead friends I'll get a headache." The teen shrugged turning the page.

"What do you mean?! Why would-?! Who's killing people?!" Barry asked frantically as Bruce serched for more reports of missing people in the area.

"I don't know. Why would I know? If you want to go in the cursed forest go ahead. I mean that's how they all die. It isn't my job to stop you. My job is to sit here and watch this store." The teen huffed in annoyance.

Before anymore questions were asked the signal of the radio was disrupted and a demonic howl screeched through the radio.

"God damnit. That cunt is back. Stay here." The teen growled as he grabbed his bat from under the counter and walked out the back door. "String bean! Get off the fucking roof you bastard! You know that radio is all I have here!"

A chattering laugh like a death rattle was heard and the sound of 2 sets of feet was heard on the roof then they lept down.

"Come here so I can beat you to death!" The teen ran around the building towards the front of the gas station chasing-what the fuck is that!

It was like a human that was twisted to crabwalk on all fours backwards. Its face was contorted into a black stretched-out smile with no teeth. It had no eyes just black sockets. All its limbs were stretched out to an extra meter in length. It was a skinwalker of some kind with chalk-white skin. It was skittering away from the teen who was swinging his bat at its head.

"Stop running! I told you before what would happen if I found you fucking with me again!" The boy meant it as he finally landed a hit and began wacking it over and over it.

The skin walker screeched and tried to run for its life but couldn't.

After reducing the monster into a black puddle the black-stained teen came back inside to sit back down not paying anymore to the monster blood he was covered in.

"Sorry about that. Most of the freaks around here have learned to stay away from this place. That one is new and he doesn't listen. You'd think they'd learn but Sting Bean thinks he can torment me. Petty bastard." The teen sighed "anyways are going to buy anything or are you going to waste what oxygen we get in here with this shitty ventilation.

Diana couldn't help but admire the boldness of the boy. He had no hesitation or fear against the beasts of this area even if was crude.

"Does Constantine have a cousin or something? Just a more angry one" Barry whispered to Hal.

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc prompt #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #barry allen #hal jordan #superman #clark kent #justice league #diana prince #wonder woman #john constantine

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iniquitousyearning · 5 months ago

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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 4th. mattheo - virginity loss / corruption kink.

PART TWO | kinktober masterlist. | 2024.

summary: pls read part one first for a lil buildup. also. im laughing at myself bc there was a perfectly good bed…right there…

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, virginity loss, PIV, so much dirty talk, so much patience from mattheo, (more of a realistic virginity loss bc it’s not always easy), praise!!!!, slight degradation, fingering, multiorgasm, handjob, best friends lil sister trope.

Mattheo Riddle was so accustomed to this. The pulse of adrenaline in the dead of night, the quiet hum of anticipation stretching every second longer than it needed to be. You weren't naive to that, not to him, nor the danger he carried so effortlessly in his stride. He wore it like a second skin.

But you—you were not accustomed to it. Not to any of this.

So when you pushed open the door to the room of requirement a little over ten-minutes later, you hadn't been sure what you were expecting to find. Something darker, maybe. More foreboding. But when the room revealed itself before you—silent, draped in soft moonlight that pooled over the bed with a window wide and open, spilling that pale silver fog across the floor—you almost laughed.

Too perfect. Too on the nose, like the castle itself had been watching you both for months and had decided this was the moment it would indulge you.

"You're late." Mattheo's voice cut through the quiet.

His back was to you, suit jacket discarded on an old oak desk against the wall, dark curls falling just above his collar as he stood by the window, eyes fixed on the lake. The moonlight made the ripples dance, just like the tension in the room.

You took a step toward him, silent.

He turned, finally. His eyes met yours and you saw it—the hesitation, the way his gaze moved over you, slow, cautious. He took in the way the light draped itself over your shoulders, moving lower—and it was as if for the first time, he allowed himself to see you fully, all the details he had so tried to ignore, now right in front of him. He drank them in.

You gave him a small, nervous smile, hoping it would ease the weight of his stare. "I didn't realize you were the type to keep track of time."

He moved closer, but not close enough. Not yet. His breath was tight, chest rising and falling too fast. The space between you felt like a chasm, though it was barely there at all.

"You've a lot to learn, little girl," he teased, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it did nothing to mask the conflict in his eyes. It was meant to disarm you, but it only made the air heavier. His jaw tightened. "You're sure about this?"

"Quite sure," you breathed, stepping closer, close enough to admire the sharp line of his jaw, the soft stubble. "You're the one who's hesitating."

"I'm not hesitating," he muttered, though the roughness in his voice betrayed him. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this with you. His best friend's little sister. He wanted to give you every chance to stop this, to walk away. "Just trying not to rush this—rush you."

You let out a small huff, your hand moving up to find his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Mattheo Riddle was nervous.

"You've been making me wait for months," you whispered. "I don't think a little rushing would hurt."

He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on your hand as it trailed over his chest, lower, teasing. Every touch was a flame against his skin, every breath between you a match struck in the dark. He wanted you, more than anything, but the weight of it—the wrongness, the danger—clawed at his conscience.

His hand caught your wrist, intending to stop you, but his fingers lingered against your skin. Frozen.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, the words thick in his throat. "Your first time should be—"

"My choice," you interrupted, pressing closer, your body flush against his, your lips brushing his jaw as your hand slid lower, teasing the edge of his belt. "My virginity is mine to give, Mattheo. And I want to give it to you."

He shuddered, your words settling, sinking into the dark space that held you both captive. His hand found your hip, the other threading through your hair, gently tugging your head back to expose the soft skin of your neck.

"You’re not thinking straight," he rasped. "You'll regret this..."

But even as he said it, his hands tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.

"I'll regret nothing." Your fingers slipped lower, grazing his crotch, moving with nothing but instinct and need. Biting your lip, you felt the outline of him, hard and aching under your palm, and squeezed—he grunted, snapping his hips, and you throbbed. "Shit, Mattheo..."

"You are—fuck..." Mattheo's voice was a ragged breath, the words drawn out like he'd been holding them back for months. "...such a little tease."

You let go as quickly as you'd squeezed, and he growled against your skin, fingers tightening in your hair. Your hands found his face, pulling him in, crushing your lips to his. You moved with intent, pushing him back until his thighs hit the edge of the desk, and he groaned again—this low, guttural sound that sent a thrill through you.

You smirked into the kiss, tasting his frustration, savouring the way his defences cracked open. When you pulled back, his chest was heaving, lips swollen, eyes dark with want.

"I learned from the best," you whispered, teasing as your fingers slid down, finding the buckle of his belt. He watched you, every breath uneven, as you worked at the latch, pulling the leather free. "You've had months of fun tormenting me," you continued, moving to the button, the zipper. "Kissing me, only to say it was a mistake. Grabbing my ass every chance you could. Talking sweet when my brother wasn't looking..." your smirk deepened, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "...it's my turn now."

His pants sagged around his hips as you undid them and he cursed under his breath—his brain was struggling to catch up, like he couldn't believe the sudden shift, couldn't quite fathom the boldness with which you undid him.

Until—his hands were on you, spinning you around, your back hitting the desk with a thud.

"You think you're in control here?" His fingers slid up your hips, dragging your dress along with them, baring your skin to the cool air. "You think you have any goddamn idea what you're doing?"

You shuddered—you'd never seen him like this before—there was something feral in the way he moved, now, something sharp in the way his hands worked. His thumbs hooked around your panties and in one swift motion, they were gone—torn down your thighs before he urged you back onto the desk, parting your legs with his torso.

You were breathless, chest heaving, pulse thrumming wildly. His presence consumed the room, and for a moment, it was all you could focus on—the intensity of him, the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes.

You stared up at him, mind empty, until—

Smack.

His palm came down on your inner thigh, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt of sensation straight to your cunt. Your skin stung from the contact, but that wasn't the part that made you gasp. It was the heat, the way it surged through your veins, flooding your abdomen in a slow, aching pulse. You liked that.

"I asked you a question." His lips brushed against your ear, breath warm as he leaned in. "Two, actually."

You couldn't think, mind swimming—the press of his body, the rough timber of his voice, the weight of his hands as his fingers teased, climbing higher, brushing closer to the ache between your thighs. You sucked in a breath, trying to recall what he'd asked, trying to focus anything but the fire he was lighting in you—

But then, his fingers slipped further, closer, just barely brushing your slit, and your hips jerked involuntarily, chasing that touch.

"No—I don’t—“ the shame in the answer barely mattered. His fingers were so close, so close. "Gods—I just know I want you—"

"That's all you think about, isn't it?" He smirked, lips falling to your neck, tongue tracing the places he knew would wreck you, each soft, wet press making you whimper despite yourself. "You don't care about anything else..." his fingers slipped lower, dipping between your folds—and you cried out, shameless, the sensation unlike any other you'd ever felt. "…not the consequences, not the risk...you just want me…”

Your nails dug into his back and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, wetting his fingers in your arousal before gliding back up to your clit and tracing over it.

"Oh—Gods—" you whinged, moaning into his shoulder.

Mattheo’s hands were experienced—that much was certain. Those fingers knew exactly how to move, precisely how to trace light, delicate circles over your clit that made you twitch, squirm— nerves stripped as you took in the new sensation. It wracked every inch of you, and you could feel him savouring your helplessness, drawing out every ounce of tension that had been building between you for months.

“You’re soaked.” You could hear the disbelief in his voice. “...filthy little thing for me, aren't you?"

"Gods, Mattheo, yes—" your eyes rolled, thighs twitching against his hand. "I am—ohh—"

"Yeah?" His tongue traced a slow, wet path up the side of your neck, teeth dragging over your pulse. "You like this?"

His words were enough to make you want to scream, but no sound formed—just a low, broken moan that spilled from your throat, raw and shameless.

"Answer me," he murmured. "You ever orgasm from this before? Hm?"

"No—" your voice choked, trembling as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to look at him, something like shame pooling in your stomach. "Oh, fuck—"

"No, what?" His fingers pressed harder, circles growing faster, more insistent, and his voice—Christ, his voice— "I asked you two questions, little slut. Keep up. You wanted this."

"Yes—mmf—I like it—" you whined, the words a desperate spill from your lips, too flustered to form anything coherent. "And no—Gods—you're the first to...to touch me like this..."

He figured as much but the admission tore through him nonetheless, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a groan—not enough to hurt, but enough to leave a mark, a bruise, a reminder. His hand dipped lower, a finger pushing inside you without warning, pressing deep into your slick heat, and you cried out, your body tightening, pulsing around him, vision swimming.

"And this?" His voice was a smirk against your skin. "You let anyone else inside you like this?"

You knew he already knew the answer. You both did. He was reveling in it—the way he had you, trembling, helpless. You'd never heard him like this, never heard him so crass, so unfiltered, and the way he spoke made your whole body flush with heat.

"No." The word was a strangled moan, barely a breath. "Gods—Mattheo—you already knew that—"

He crooked his finger inside you, and your back arched, the stretch unfamiliar yet mindnumbing, his thumb working your clit. You felt teeth nipping at your earlobe, a hum into your eardrum—his body thrumming with the satisfaction of finally, finally letting himself have you where he wanted.

"Perhaps I did." He added another finger, curling them inside you, his teeth scraping along your neck in a smile. The groan that slipped from your lips was desperate, pained in its pleasure, your body reacting to every new inch of him. "Fucking hell—you can barely take two..."

Your head shook, words failing you. "Gods—Mattheo—I...fuck..."

A low grunt rumbled from his chest, his fingers moving quicker, slick with the evidence of your desire. "Feels good?"

"Yes—" you moaned, breath hitching, vision blurring as he pumped his fingers in and out, building something inside you that you couldn't name, something new, something overwhelming. "I feel—oh, gods—something...happening—"

"You feel something?" His voice was mocking, drenched in that innocent, teasing tone that had you falling apart. "Yeah? What's happening, princess?"

You couldn't find breath, couldn't form the words to answer him. The pressure inside you was mounting, intensity unbearable, your body tense and straining toward an edge. You clung to him, breathless, desperate for more, desperate for something, anything—

"I don't—" your voice broke as his fingers curled deeper, wetness flooding between your thighs, his thumb relentless. "Pressure—fuck—so much—"

He nodded. "Yeah? Pressure in that pretty stomach? Feels fucking good, doesn't it?"

"Fuck—yes, yes," your lids fluttered. "S’good—"

"You're so close." He watched you, drunk on your downfall, and smirked as you neared the edge. "You're going to cum for me."

Sanity shattered in your throat—words trapped, swallowed by the tension, leaving only the soft, unbridled whimpers you once might've once found embarrassing. But there was no shame now, not when you were this close, the pressure coiling tighter in your core, ready to burst.

"Ohh—" you managed, lungs sputtering, head tipping back. The sound of your voice, the way you moaned, was foreign, unfamiliar to your own ears. "Gods—oh fuck-"

"I know," he cooed, sweet like sugar. "I know."

You were a mess. Too close, too overwhelmed—everything was him. His scent, the heat of his skin, the feel of his fingers working that magic that had your body convulsing before you could even cry out, before you could process the way your vision blurred with the force of it. The climax hit like a wave crashing over you, and your moans were swallowed by his kiss, his lips on yours the second your body tightened, shaking against his hand.

He was relentless, rough and insistent, kissing you like he wanted to devour you whole—drowning out the world as your body pulsed around his fingers. You’d never felt such an intense sensation, lava coursing, replacing the blood in your veins. His breath stuttered against your mouth, a low groan vibrating through him, the sound making your spine tingle.

"F-fuck," he muttered, pulling his fingers from you, glistening and wet. "Messy little thing."

The words sent a shiver through you, not just from their meaning but from the way he said them, like something perverse, intimate. Your chest tightened with the warmth of them.

"You—" you panted, trying to find your voice. Blinking through the haze of lingering bliss. "You can't say things like that."

"Why not?" He chuckled your name against your neck, lips brushing a path to your ear. "Because you might fall in love with me?" His teeth grazed the sensitive spot under your lobe, along your jawline. "Oh wait...you already have."

"Shut up," you whispered, stomach flipping at the way he said your name, the way it dripped from his mouth like honey. "Have not."

"I've known for a while, you know," he mused, his voice so low, so quiet. "Don't think I haven't seen it—the way you look at me." He kissed your skin again, working his way up, each press of his lips something sacred, moving closer to your mouth. "The way you can't get enough of me."

You could kill him for it, for the way his words sunk into your bones, making all the feelings you've buried rise to the surface, pulling you under. He just had to go there—had to milk every inch of your composure out of you, because it's not enough for him to have you disarmed physically—sexually—he needed to have you disarmed emotionally, too.

Perhaps the worst part of it all is how right he was. Arrogant bastard.

"Stop talking," your hand drifted down, grazing the bulge in his pants, your fingers slipping under the waistband, rubbing him through the thin fabric of his boxers. It was reckless. You've never done this before, but God, you wanted to. "Stop talking and teach me."

The room tilted—the world off its axis. His breath caught, choked in his lungs as he grabbed your face and pulled your lips to his—his kiss wild, his tongue insistent, running along your gums and wrestling with yours for control.

"Fuck," he groaned into your mouth as you tugged his boxers down, freeing him, your hand wrapping around him. Hot. Hard. "Wrap your fingers around it, princess. Gentle strokes. Just like that."

Your heart stumbled at the sound of his voice, thick, raw and open. You tightened your grip, stroking him slowly, experimentally, and he hissed through his teeth, a groan vibrating through his chest.

"You're so big," you murmured, forehead against his, the words spilling out without thought. "So thick..."

"Fucking minx," he moaned. "Stroking me and telling me how big I am—fuck—you're not as innocent as everyone thinks."

"Only you know this," you whispered, your hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes, pulse soaring as he groaned. "Does it feel good, Matty?"

"Fuck—Christ—" his breath was jagged, words ripped from his throat like they barely wanted to come out, hips jerking mindlessly. "Tighter, mm—little tighter—"

Your cunt throbbed—each whispered invocation of a god not his own, of something he didn't believe in, forced a shudder through you. That's how you knew. Knew how lost he was. He’d no mind left at all if he was muttering muggle gods.

"Like that?" Your fingers squeezed around him, your gaze burning into his as you looked up through fluttering lashes.

His face was a storm—flushed, eyes half-shut—but at your voice they opened and flicked down to yours, and for once, there was no arrogance, no mockery in that stare. Just raw, primal need, burning so fiercely it made you ache. His hips rocked, desperate for more. Painfully. A hole in his chest torn wide open for you to see, and he didn't care. Couldn't care.

"Yeah—shit—just like that," he gritted out, grip on your hips bruising, but you welcomed it. Needed it. "Fast learner, aren't you?"

"You're a good teacher," you whimpered, a sound that was barely yours as his fingers slipped between your thighs, finding your slit, teasing you open again. "Oh—"

"You've always been a little teacher's pet," he groaned, thrusting into your hand as he slipped a finger inside you. The stretch made you wince, pleasure and pain blurring into something that sent sparks behind your eyes. He watched you, gaze molten. "Fuck—it’s gonna hurt, you know that, right?"

The ache spread through you, but you didn't flinch. "I know," you whispered as his thumb found your clit, making you gasp. "I trust you."

"I know you do." His voice dropped, eyes dark and soft at once as he pushed another finger inside. "You know you’ve always had me wrapped around your fucking finger. You know I care about you—“

His words were too much, pressing on something fragile inside you, and you pulled him into a kiss to shut him up—deep, desperate, drowning. Your hand tightened on his length, the heat between you flaring, and you moaned against his mouth, shaking with the need for more.

"I want you," you breathed, each syllable shivering on your lips as you clenched around his fingers. "I've wanted you for months—"

Months? No, it had been years. Years of wanting, needing, watching from afar, heart in your throat. Years of avoiding anyone else because no one was him. You knew he’d felt the same and it killed him. It wasn't logical, wasn't supposed to be like this—not with you, not now, not his best friend's little sister, not him whispering sweet, dangerous things while knuckle-deep inside your virgin cunt.

It was as if you both shook those thoughts from your minds at once. You’ll think about the implications later.

"You've got me," he rasped, hips grinding involuntarily against your hand. "Just—fuck—don't hate me after this."

Hate him? The very idea was laughable, absurd. You could never hate him. Not even in those moments you tried, not even when he deserved it.

"I could never hate you," you murmured, drawing him closer, lips trembling against his. "Just—please—"

Something shifted in his eyes, and he knew. Knew what you needed. What you both needed. You were vulnerable, trembling, but you trusted him—completely. You’d been in his life for so long. You knew he’d never hurt you. He could see it your eyes, the trust, the in the way your body bent to his touch.

"Alright," he said softly, a hand running up your body to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek. "Alright."

His fingers slid out of you, leaving you bare and breathless, and you swallowed. This was really about to happen.

"Lay back," his voice cut through your haze. "Legs to your chest."

The command wrapped around you like a vice, tightening the anticipation, and you fell back on your elbows, staring up at him as you raised your legs. Vulnerability crept in, making your thighs tense, but Mattheo was there, spreading you open with firm hands, pressing himself against your slick. His eyes were locked onto yours, all that self-assurance gone, melted into something more human—something raw, unguarded.

You could feel it; the vulnerability of this moment stretched between you both—the distance you'd maintained for so long, the careful walls you'd built, were nothing now. He was in too deep, and so were you.

"Stop me at any time," he whispered, his voice a raw rasp, eyes meeting yours. "Just breathe.”

He leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, and you kissed him like the world might collapse if you didn't. He guided himself against you, the press of him at your entrance an unbearable ache. He was hot, hard, huge—and despite the wetness slicking down your thighs, your body resisted, too tight, too unsure of this.

You whimpered, instinctively trying to pull away, but he stayed, pressing kisses to your hair, your temple, whispering something that sounded like comfort but burned like fire. It hurt more than you expected, more than any of the fantasies you had dared to entertain.

Doubt curled through your chest, what if you couldn't take him? What if—

"M-Mattheo..." his name broke in your throat as you clutched his arm, nails digging into his skin. He tried to push in again, but your body resisted. "It—you—you can't fit..."

"Shh," his lips ghosted over yours, his hand slipping through your hair, trying again, moving slow, controlled. "You're just—so goddamn tight—"

The way he said it sent a spark through your veins. It was filthy, shameless, and it lit you up from the inside, despite the pain. No one had ever spoken to you like this. You swallowed the lump in your throat, tears pricking as he tried to work you open.

And then—he was in.

"I-it hurts," you hissed—pain lighting up your spine as he worked his cockhead inside you, pushing against the resistance of your walls. His breath came in sharp, ragged bursts, each inch a battle. The pressure was unbearable, the sting so sharp it was paralyzing. "Oh, fuck, Mattheo—"

He groaned, a sound from deep within his chest, his head bowing, sweat creeping over his brow.

"Shhh, I know—I know..." he murmured through shredded cords, fighting to maintain control as his hips paused, barely halfway in, just enough to make you feel like you might break. "S'okay...you're doing so good..."

It was overwhelming—the fullness, the ache that felt like it might split you in two. And yet, beneath the pain, something else stirred. His words, soft and rough all at once, made the sensation bearable, turned the hurt into something else. You focused on his voice, on the way he stroked your hair, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

"Why—mmff—gods..." you could barely speak, the words tangled in your throat. "Why do you have to be so big—"

A strangled laugh escaped him, though his eyes stayed shut tight, his jaw clenched—cock twitching inside you.

"I don't—fuck—know." His fingers brushed your lips, covering your mouth gently. "Don't go talking like that—not right now—"

You might have laughed, too, if your body wasn't so taut, strung tight with tension and pain and something far more profound. He was barely inside you, his words making your insides clench, drawing another groan from his lips at the squeeze.

His hand held your jaw, palm pressing lightly over your mouth, enough to breathe, to speak—

"Why—" you knew what he meant, knew the warning in his eyes, but you couldn't stop yourself. "—not?"

His breath hitched. "Because—" he swallowed hard, words coming through gritted teeth, his fingers tightening around your jaw, a warning in his grip. "Because—fuck—your mouth will get you in trouble."

Oh. That was what he meant.

"But—oh fuck—you're so...big..." the words slipped out before you could catch them, a disgruntled moan falling from your lips as he sank all the way in, filling you so completely it was dizzying. The pressure, the heat, the sensation of being pried open—it was all too much, and you cried out, unable to stop the sound from spilling out. "Ohhh—so big—"

"I said, fuck," he cursed, hand clamping firm over your mouth now as his body shuddered, as he ground his hips gently into yours. "—don't say that."

It was too late. You didn't need to say anything further. He could feel it—he could feel everything in the way you clenched around him, barely letting him move—so goddamn tight it was almost painful—he could feel it in the look in your eyes, in the trembling of your body beneath his.

"I can feel you thinking it," he grunted as you squirmed beneath him, every movement making him twitch inside you, drawing another choked groan from his throat. "Merlin sakes—"

You knew he wasn't used to this. To slowing down, to drawing out the tension like this, to the maddening slowness of every motion. He wanted to lose himself, to break you open hard and fast, to take and give and take again until both of you shattered into something unrecognizable. But he couldn't—not with the way your eyes glistened, not with the way you gasped and whimpered as he filled you.

"No talking," he sucked in a breath against your neck, his hips rolling into yours in slow, unbearable waves. "Only if you need me to stop."

He was breaking. So were you. Every thrust was an exquisite kind of torture—an ache that twisted and stretched, dulled only by the flick of his fingers against your clit. His lips pressed along your neck, kissed along the line of your jaw, groaning with each deep, patient push, carving his way into you as you clung to him, your mind floating through the fog of pain into something different—something overwhelming.

Your head fell back. “Oh—Oh gods—“

Each gasp felt like it might be your last as that something built deep inside you, tight and unfamiliar, an ache that didn't hurt but begged to be released. And he felt it too—Mattheo felt it, the way your body pulsed beneath his, the way you tightened around him like you couldn't bear to let him go.

"Bloody fuck—are you—are you going to—" his words were ragged, broken. He couldn't finish the thought, couldn't hold himself together. "Are you—"

“Mattheo—” your voice trembled, a breathless moan as your back arched, pressing into him, your body seeking more. The pain was null now, replaced by an overwhelming pressure, something tight and aching and good—you felt every inch of him inside you, every pulse of his cock as he moved, slow but relentless. “Mattheo—oh gods—”

"Fuck—" he bit down, teeth sinking into your neck as his fingers swirled your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. "You're gonna make me—"

You choked because there was no space for words, no breath for anything but the raw sound of your bodies—moans, gasps, ragged inhales tangled together as you both hurtled towards something inevitable. The light of the moon radiated the man above you and that was all you could register other than the rising crescendo of your climax—something so intense it scared you, almost broke you apart—your body seizing, trembling, as his fingers pressed harder against your clit, as he thrust deeper.

And then, there was only one more blink until you shattered beneath him, the orgasm tearing through you in oceanic motion, muscles clenching around him so tightly he could barely move—and then he was there, too, his body jerking as he groaned into your skin, his release ripped from him in jagged gasps as you milked him without mercy. He slumped on top of you, fingers digging into your skin, the two of you pulsing together in the aftermath, the room spinning, your bodies still trembling from the force of it.

The world was slow to return, the roar of sensations fading into something quieter, softer. The weight of him on top of you was grounding—his forehead pressed against the crook of your neck, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Neither of you moved for a long while, just basked in the silence, kind that settled in after something irrevocable had passed between two people.

And then, Mattheo pushed up, enough to meet your eyes. Your chest ached at the softness inside his own.

“Are you—” he swallowed as he drank you in, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the flushed cheeks. His words hung in the air as if he didn’t know how to finish the question.

“I’m okay,” you nodded, voice hoarse. “I’m good.”

Mattheo nodded too but didn’t move, still buried inside you, just taking you in. Then, gently, he shifted, pulling back with a slow, careful movement that made you wince slightly. The second he’d pulled out, you felt different—more aware of the vulnerability you’d just laid bare, more aware of the line you two had just obliterated into absolute shambles.

“You sure?” he asked, a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—

You nodded again, the smallest smile pulling at your lips, though your heart was still racing, the enormity of it all sinking in.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m sure.”

His jaw tightened, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek.

“This changes everything, doesn’t it?” His voice was barely audible, like he didn’t want to admit it out loud.

Of course he was thinking it too—how could he not? This was no longer something you could pretend didn’t exist, no longer something you could hide behind banter and stolen glances and secret kisses.

“Yeah,” you breathed, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there, the heat still radiating from his skin. “It does.”

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sluttysnowangel666 · 6 months ago

Text

His Second Wife - cregan stark x reader (request)

summary: two years following the death of cregan’s first wife, he accepts an undesired marriage proposal to rhaenyra targaryen’s daughter. rhaenyra’s daughter, who had loved cregan the moment she first met him as a young girl, immediately loves and accepts cregan’s first child as her own. yet it is still not enough for cregan to find his own love for his new wife.

cw: mean cregan😓, widow!cregan, targ!reader, loss of virginity(reader), rhaenyra’s daughter, angst to fluff, unrequited love, sex, happy ending

do yall notice i always post a long ass story usually around midnight or later ( i’m unwell)also this is long af soz it was a detailed request and I wanted it to be to a T. this is SOO long. i prolly should have done two parts… oh well @lillithsalvatore hope you enjoy it love ❤️

masterlist

“How do you feel, my love?” Your mother asked, placing a warm and comforting hand on yours.

You sighed. “Nervous.”

She gave you that warm and sweet smile of hers. “I know. I hope you know this choice was not easy for me to make, as I know this was a hard task for me to place upon you.”

“I know, mother.” You say with forgiveness, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Had it been any other lord I would have surely declined but… Starks are the most honorable among men. I know your union will be blessed by the gods.”

You give her a smile, blindly trusting her words. You had met him once, and you knew he was kind. In fact, he had left a paw shaped imprint on your heart. You thought to yourself no union could be more suitable. You knew he had married once before out of a prior marital alliance, but the marriage had been short lived, lasting only a year before his first wife died in her birthing chambers.

It took more than four moons before you arrived at Winterfell, as if every power in the world was set on preventing it. You were not a superstitious person, so you simply thought all the bad things that happened prior to your marriage was coincidence.

Each time you went to leave, something prevented you. Your mother miscarried your baby sister, Lucerys was killed by Aemond, Daemon went silent at Harrenhall, Rhaena ran away and was lost in the eyrie before revealing she claimed Sheep-stealer.

You arrived in the dead of winter, and the journey had not been kind to you. You got a chill on the way up, causing you to stop at an inn for a few nights, you had came across raiders who killed one of the many men escorting you, and your clothes were ill suited for the weather.

You did eventually arrive at Winterfell thankfully, all in one piece.

You stepped out of the carriage cautiously, eyeing the snowy landscape surrounding you. It went as far as the eye could see. You held your hand out, letting the thick snowflakes fall and melt in your hand.

“My princess.” You turn to see Cregan, walking towards you. He bows, forcing a politeness. “Winterfell is yours.”

You bow in return, “No need for such formalities, Lord Stark. This is your home, and I am honored to have you welcome me here.”

He nods, choosing to say nothing else to you.

“Please show the princess to her chambers.” He says to one of the servants, then immediately turning on his heels to leave. Your jaw falls slightly, surprised at his curt demeanor.

You compose yourself, trying to hide the slight hurt in your features before making your way to your private chambers.

You bathed immediately, welcoming the hot water against your skin. No water could be hot enough for your dragon blood, but what they had drawn up for you would do nicely.

Your wedding was a week after your arrival, the lord having given you time to settle in. You had not seen him much during that week so you chose not to bother him, assuming he was busy with duties.

When you walked down that snowy path to the red weirwood, Cregan stole a glance at you. You looked beautiful, and he felt horribly guilty for thinking it. He felt like what he was doing was betraying her.

You said your vows, swearing your love before the old gods. You smiled at Cregan and he gave you a forced one in return. Guilt wracked his whole body. He felt guilty for you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you a union where you were loved, he felt guilty for liking your smile, he felt guilty for forgetting hers.

There was a feast following the ceremony, nothing large due to the pains of winter, but it didn’t bother you. The small gathering felt intimate, compared to southern weddings where lords and ladies travelled from all over the realm to witness it.

It was here you met Cregan’s son, Rickon.

“Hi, little one.” You said. He was only two, a fat little babe who looked just like Cregan.

“Rickon, this is my new wife.” Cregan said. The way he worded it made you twitch, it had sounded so strained. He didn’t even use your name. You told the boy the name he could call you, but he said nothing as he hid behind his father’s leg.

“I apologize.” Cregan said, his voice showing no sign that he actually was sorry.

“It is alright, my lord. He is just a babe. He and I will have time to get to know each other.” You said. Cregan tensed up, suddenly remembering again this union was forever.

“Excuse me, princess.” He said, turning and walking away with Rickon. Your heart sunk a bit. You could start to sense it now, Cregan was not in the slightest invested in your union together. You felt lost, out of place suddenly.

You sat back down at the high table, overwhelmed with nervousness. You bit at your nails and the skin around them, biting until they bled. You missed your mother dearly. Being here, in this room among strangers who didn’t care much for southerners to begin with, made you feel small.

You had sat there for an hour or two, not moving or eating once, save for your cuticles.

Cregan came to you, not noticing your nervous state. If he had noticed, he chose to ignore it. “I’ve put Rickon down… Would you please accompany me to my chambers?”

You looked at him, the nail bed of your thumb resting between your teeth. You nodded, standing and staring at the hall one last time. You locked eyes with a man, who noticed you both about to take your leave.

“Is it time for the bedding ceremony, Lord Stark?” The man asked, erupting a few cheers from the men mostly.

“No!” Cregan nearly barked the order. “There will be no bedding ceremony.”

The men in the crowd shuffled awkwardly at his outburst but accepted.

“Princess.” Cregan said, walking away and not waiting to see if you were following.

You did anyway, struggling to keep up with his quick pace. You had the sense he wanted this to be over with quickly.

He held the door as you both entered his chambers. You took in your surroundings. It was a clean and large kept room with a lit hearth and a large bed. A thought passed your mind, even though you tried to push it down.

Did he share these chambers with her?

Cregan began to take off his armor and furs, again not watching to see if you did the same, only assuming you were. If you weren’t, he didn’t care.

“Um, could you help, my lord?” You asked, referring to the laces of your white wedding dress.

He sighed, walking over to you as you turned your back to him. Your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to hide it.

His hands were gentle with the laces, not tugging at them as you expected him to. He obviously had experience doing this before.

He grew emotional as he undid your dress, but he hid it well. It was a weird sense of deja vu. Your hair looked like hers from the back and he felt like he was back at his first wedding.

You pushed the dress off, revealing the sheer linen soft dress underneath. He hadn’t moved from behind you, trying to maintain his composure. You walked away from him, lying on the bed and biting your nails again.

He finished disrobing besides his briefs, and you stole a glance at his back. It was huge, muscular and scarred.

He walked over to the bed, getting between your legs and pushing up your shift.

“Is this alright with you, princess?” He asks. “We need not consummate this if you are not ready.”

For the first time it seemed like he kinda cared about how you felt. His hand still had a hold of your shift, which was resting on your pelvic bone.

You nodded, “Is it alright with you, Lord Stark?”

He nodded, pushing your shift up the rest of the way to reveal your chest. He wanted to fall on his sword for the way he kept stealing glances at your breasts.

He pushed his briefs down, and you choked on your breath at the reveal of his length.

“Oh, gods.” You mumbled under your breath.

He rubbed himself against your slit, and your heart stilled for a minute. The feeling was foreign and intense.

He gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth. You hadn’t even realized you were still doing it, it was starting to become like breathing. A natural, unintentional habit.

Your hands fell to his biceps to steady yourself. You looked at him, but he did not meet your gaze. He instead bowed his head, watching himself enter inside you.

You dug your nails into his arm, gasping in shock. He gently shushed you, telling you it was okay.

“Please, please.” You said, not knowing what you were even pleading for.

“What?” He asked gently, his voice low and almost mimicking of your whining. It sent a shiver up your spine.

He was slow and gentle with you, not in it for any pleasure himself.

You touched his chest and his hair and his arms, and while he didn’t stop you he made no effort to touch you himself. His hands rested beside your head, holding up his weight.

Your hands found his arms again and you moaned softly, feeling your peak building in your stomach. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his head, moaning as you spilled onto him. He closed his eyes as he felt it, and guilt wracked him again.

He gently pulled out of you and stood up, immediately dressing himself into his nightwear. You pushed your shift back down and pulled the linen covers over you, immediately going back to biting your nails at his reaction.

He laid beside you, not facing you and not saying anything.

You said nothing, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed how he intentionally avoided spilling himself into you.

———

It had been 3 months since your arrival to Winterfell, and you had adjusted as well as you could given the circumstances.

You did not often see your lord husband, but you were used to it. He spent a lot of his free time in the crypt where she was. It hurt, but you gave him his peace and he appreciated that you didn’t hover.

“Mummy!”

“Sh, sh, love.” You say as Rickon runs into your chambers.

Cregan did not like when Rickon called you his mother. He’d gotten upset with you a few times over it, and you assured him you would correct Rickon when it happened.

“Mummy.” He repeated. You giggled. pulling him into your lap. You shook your head and tapped his nose, saying, “Nooo. Not mummy.”

“Mummy.” He laughed, and you ran your fingers through his thick brown curls.

“What ever will we do with this mop on your head, my son?”

“He is not your son.” You turned to see Cregan standing in the door way. “And his hair is fine.”

“Apologies, my lord.” You said, curtly. He ignored your attitude.

“Come, Rickon.” He said, beckoning his son.

“No, mummy.” Rickon whined, holding you.

“Go see papa.” You told him, and with your blessing Rickon ran to Cregan.

Cregan gave you a cold stare as he left, and you returned the favor.

You were growing ever so agitated with your husband. He had welcomed you into Winterfell, but not his heart. The only time you both had shared a bed was the night of your wedding, to which Cregan had made sure not to give you an heir.

You had no one. Rickon had you, Cregan had you even if he did not want you, yet you were alone here in Winterfell.

You decided to write to your mother on Dragonstone, requesting for Jacaerys to pick you up on dragon back so you could visit your family and hopefully receive advice. You had left your dragon, Silverwing, at home. You did not want to disrespect the already hesitant northern people, and you did not want Silverwing to be cold or hungry.

That night when you were brushing your hair before bed, there was a knock on your door.

“Come in.” You looked in the mirror and saw Cregan’s half sister, Sara, enter.

“Hi, Sara.” You said. She came up behind you, taking the brush from your hand and slowly combing it through your hair. You two had formed a unique bond, given you were both considered outcasts in Winterfell. You were a southerner, she was a bastard. They were two sides of the same coin here in Winterfell.

“I heard what happened today.” She said, and you hummed mindlessly. “My brother can be a bastard.”

You smiled at her in the mirror. “Is that so?”

She nods. “I wish I knew what to do, Sara.”

“We northerners love hard, princess. We are unwaveringly loyal. The wound of losing Aly is still fresh in my brother’s heart. Give him time. He knows you love Rickon, and that scares him. I don’t know why.”

“Was Aly pretty?” You ask.

“You have a southern beauty we do not see often in the North. Aly was not a beautiful woman, but she was a fierce fighter. That is how history will remember her. She was born fighting, and she died fighting. I know you are a fierce fighter as well, princess. You are the blood of the dragon. Do not let the grief my brother holds make you feel small.” She kisses the back of your head. “Throw a fucking book at his head if he acts like that again.”

You laugh, her joke comforting you. She turns and leaves you alone, your head clouded with thoughts of Aly.

You heard back from Jacaerys within a few days that he would arrive shortly to bring you home. You had not yet told Cregan, as you knew he wouldn’t care anyway.

A few days following the letter from the raven, it was Sara’s name day. Cregan had decided to celebrate with a feast, one bigger than your wedding.

You all sat at the high table, your husband and sister in law drinking heavily. Although Cregan was a big man, the amount of ale he consumed that night seemed enough to kill a horse.

“My princess.” A servant rested her hand on your shoulder. You and Cregan both turned to look at her, and she grew nervous, not expecting Cregan to pay any attention or perhaps she would not have asked the princess the request. “Rickon has had a nightmare and wants no comfort of the maids. He is requesting you by name specifically, princess.”

You turn to look at Cregan for his approval. He gives a quick nod, which you hadn’t expected. Perhaps he only obliged since Rickon had requested you by your name, rather than requesting his “mother.”

You walked with the maid to his chambers, opening the door.

“Mummy.” He said through sniffles. You turned to face the maid.

“I thought he requested me by my name.” You said.

“That is your name, princess… to him.” The maid closed the door.

You turn to face Rickon with a gentle sigh. “You know papa doesn’t like that word.”

“Mummy.” He just says again. You walk to his bed, fitting yourself in to lay with him. He cuddles into your chest, and you play with his hair to help him sleep.

“Say it okay.” He says.

“Hm? What do you mean, child?” You ask.

“She say it okay to call you mummy.”

“Who?”

“Mummy did.”

“No, you have to call me my name, sweet boy.”

“Not you, mummy. My other mummy said it okay.”

“You confuse me, Rickon.”

“Mummy says ignore papa.” You chuckle softly.

“Sleep now, my love.” You say, and he slowly falls asleep while you hum him a soft song.

You rise, tucking him in and giving his head a kiss.

You open his door to return to the feast, and Cregan is there waiting.

You gasp, covering your mouth quickly to not wake Rickon.

“Gods, you scared me!” You whisper/yell at him. He says nothing, his eyes in a glossy and drunken haze.

You close the door, nearly standing chest to chest with him.

“I heard you sing to him.” He says softly. “Where did you learn that song?”

“He taught me it.” You say, as you go to step past him when he stops you.

“Cregan?” You say confused, turning to look up at him.

He takes your cheeks in your hands and slams his lips on yours. You freeze for a second in shock, before immediately returning the kiss. He presses you against the door, and you moan into him as you quickly grow wet with Cregan’s sudden change of behavior.

He moves to press gentle kisses on your neck, biting softly here and there. His fingers dig into your hips, grinding himself into you. You moan softly, trying not to cause too much noise against the door.

“Not here.” You moan. He avoids your eyes, taking your hand and pulling you further down the hall to his chambers. It was only your second time in his room. He lifted you into his strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing you against the wall.

You both hadn’t even undressed, but you loved the thrill. Your husband finally wanted you after three long grueling months. He pushed your dress up to your waist as you unlaced his breeches.

He took you there against the wall of his chambers, fucking you so sweetly, fucking you in a way that would surely produce an heir.

Your moans filled the halls, and the servants began to spread word that the lord had finally moved on from his first wife.

He carried you to the bed, placing you along the edge as he stood, fucking you with sloppy and drunken thrusts.

You moaned his name, both of you drawing so close to your peak as your hands rested against his stomach. He leaned closed to you as hand moved beside your head to hold his weight, and the other moved under your lower back to lift you slightly off the bed and pull you more into him. The angle sent you over the edge, crying and moaning his name.

Your moans pushed him over, but his next words made you sick.

“Fuck, Alysanne.” He groaned, burying his head in your neck and spilling his seed into you.

You gasped, not even sure you heard him right.

He kissed your neck a few times and then rolled off you, not noticing the look on your face.

You laid there unmoving, still in your dress which was now damp with sweat, and your thighs now sticky with Cregan.

He fell asleep the second his head hit his pillow, still in his clothes.

You choked back a sob, moving your hand to your mouth so he wouldn’t waken. In reality, you could’ve started screaming and he wouldn’t have woke, or even shuffled.

You exited his chambers, trying not to be sick on the way to yours.

“My sister!” Sara drunkenly yelled as she seen you in the hallway. She took notice of your disheveled dress and hair. “Oh my gods, did you and Cregan just…?”

You ignored her, but she noticed the tears on your face. “Wait, sister what is wrong? What happened?”

You slammed the door in her face, throwing yourself into your pillow and screaming.

—

“Mother would be furious if she knew you were sleeping this well past sunrise.”

You groaned, lifting your head from the pillow to find the voice in the room.

“Jacaerys?” You said, when your eyes landed on him.

“I take it the feast for Sara Snow was a success.” He says, making fun of you. Your hair was sticking to your face, wet with a mixture of tears and drool.

“I guess you could say that.” You said, wiping your hair to the side.

“You’re disgusting.” He says.

“Gods, five minutes you’ve been here and you already frustrate me! Get out!” You say, both of you immediately teasing and arguing like you had never left home.

You push him out of your room.

“Don’t touch me, wench!” He whines, smacking your arms.

“Piss off! Go harass the bloody Lord of Winterfell.”

“I’d rather harass the Lady.” You push him out of your doors, turning and pressing your back to slide down the wall.

You hear him knock again and you rise to your feet, angry. “Jace, I said-“

You don’t finish your sentence, since as you open the door it’s Sara.

“I wanna talk about last night.”

“I don’t.” You say, going to close the door on her before she pushes it back open.

“What happened?” She asks, angry. She closes the door behind her and follows you to the bed. You sit on the edge and rest your elbows on your thighs, burying your face in your hands.

“Did my brother hurt you?” She asks, worried.

“No, no.”

She rests on her knees in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Tell me what happened.”

You sigh, trying to hold back your tears, but you cannot. “We had sex.”

“Isn’t that good? What went wrong?”

“He called me Alysanne.” You sob out.

“Oh, no.” She says, moving to sit beside you and wrap her arms around you.

“I cannot stay here no longer, Sara. I am being haunted by Alysanne. I find letters she wrote to Cregan, her clothes, her weapons. Rickon thinks I am her and Cregan wishes I was.”

“I am sorry, princess.” She says, sadly. “I thought I knew my brother better than that… Perhaps, if you talk to him about these past few months things can be different. Just give it a try, yes? You have your brother here now. You can leave if things do not work and the marriage can be annulled.”

You did not even wish to think of that possibility. It would be so shameful for both of your houses. You would do everything in your power to make it work.

You cleaned yourself up and went to Cregan’s chambers, knowing he would be hungover.

And you were right.

You entered his room without knocking, finding him in a bath with a warm rag over his eyes. Three times now you’ve been in his chambers.

“You can set it on the table.” He says, not moving the rag.

“What?”

“Oh.” He says, his voice changing in tone. “I thought you were the maid.”

You say nothing, unsure of where to even begin.

“Can whatever you’ve barged into my chambers for wait until I am done.” He asks, only the question is more of a statement.

“No.” You say, angry. You walk over to him and pull the rag off his eyes. He squints at the brightness, then gagging on the air as if he might be sick. “We’re going to talk, Cregan. We’ve been married for months and I don’t think we’ve ever truly had a conversation once. It is all I am asking. You could at least give me that. You’ve given me the cold shoulder for three months, and I’m tired of it. I’ve helped raise your son, I’ve loved you and I’ve cared for you even when you didn’t want it. You owe this to me.”

He sighs, defeated. “You are right in that, my princess. I apologize. We can talk later, alright?”

“No, Cregan. We will talk now.”

“You wouldn’t rather talk when I am of a clear headspace?”

“No. Now.” You say. He sighs again.

“Say your piece.”

The words left your mind the second he said that. You had this conversation in your head many times before, but now it was here and you could not handle the heat of the moment.

He raised his eyebrow at you, as if you were dumb.

“Oh, do not do that. I thought you Starks were supposed to be the most honorable among men. This whole marriage I have been treated with everything but. You are a disrespectful man, Stark. I am truly sorry about Alysanne-“

“Do not speak to me about my wife, ever!” He yells, pointing at you.

“I am your wife!” You cry out. “You chose me, whether you were ready for another marriage or not! I left my home, my family, my dragon to be with you! If I cannot have your love, is it too much to ask for your fucking respect?!”

He goes quiet for a few moments, “You have always had my respect, princess… and I know I have erred in the way I’ve treated you these past moons. But this marriage is just a duty. Nothing more, nothing less. This marriage is not out of love… so do not expect me to love you back.”

You laugh, dryly. “You called me Alysanne last night… Do you remember that? No… I suppose you were too drunk. You never would have touched or cared for me like that sober.”

He says nothing, but his hands grip the side of the tub and his face is contorted with anger. You rise, hiding any sort of emotion on your face.

“The dead don’t need lovers. Only the living.” You said. He threw his rag at the door as you walked out, not even granting him a second glance.

The memories of last night flooded back to him, and he rested his face in his hands, crying at his behavior. He had let down Aly, his son, and you.

He did care about you, he did love you in his own way. He just didn’t know how to show it. He didn’t want to show it. If he had shown it, he only would have betrayed Aly even more.

You went down to the crypt, somewhere you had never gone before. You had no reason originally, no people to mourn.

You stood in front of her plot, staring at the statue of her. She had been a skinny girl, with long dark hair and ‘plain’ features. You thought she was a beauty in her own way. You saw why Cregan loved her.

You cried. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help him.”

Your hand touched her statue, then you stood and left the crypt.

You said goodbye to Rickon, Sara, and then you left with your brother on dragon back, ready to be home with your true family.

———

“You’re a fucking fool, brother.”

“You think I don’t know that? Gods.” Cregan rested his head in his hands. He had sent every raven in Winterfell to Dragonstone, yet not one had responded in the weeks since you’d left.

“We’ll be lucky if the bloody queen doesn’t declare war on us for you scorning her daughter.”

“I am trying here, Sara! I’ve sent my ravens, I’ve sent men to retrieve her. There is nothing more I can do!”

Sara slammed her hands on the table. “Go and get her your bloody self, Cregan. The trip to Dragonstone will give you plenty of time for reflection.”

Sara turned to leave, and Cregan knew it was his only option of getting you back here. He would go and get you and make things right. He had to.

You had your own time for reflection, riding home with Jacaerys made you realize how much you missed being on dragon back.

Your mother of course welcomed you with open arms, but was wracked with guilt that you and Cregan’s union was not working. You paid it no mind however, spending your days patrolling Dragonstone on Silverwing.

Cregan had taken his horse and a few men to retrieve you from Dragonstone. The trip by horse was long, more than several weeks.

The entire time he rode in silence he thought of you. He thought of your last conversation and the final words you had said to him. The dead don’t need lovers. And you were right. Alysanne would not have wished to see him treat you how he had, she would not have wanted Cregan to spend his time sulking or being angry. He only wished he had realized it before he left.

He loved you. If only it hadn’t taken you leaving for him to realize. You were kind, gentle, beautiful. Traits Alysanne didn’t have but it was what seperated you from her. It had been how he was able to find his own kind of love for you, even when he didn’t consciously realize it yet. His own bitterness from losing Aly had made forget his honor.

Cregan arrived about two moons after you had left. He was aching, frustrated, and desperate by the time he reached Dragonstone.

It was dark, pouring rain, and you were playing with your brothers Viserys and Aegon when he arrived.

“Your Grace!” A knight came into the room shouting. Your mother looked up from her book. “Cregan Stark of Winterfell has arrived and requests an immediate audience with you and the princess.”

Your mother looked at you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart sank and your face went pale, but you nodded.

You met him inside the council chambers with your mother and his men. He was soaked, shivering. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, that was how nervous you were.

“Cregan.” You said, walking towards him and pushing him by his arms to the hearth to warm him up. It was another thing he loved about you, your protective nature, so he said it.

“I love you.”

“Cregan…”

“Love her?” You both looked at your mother, whose face was angry. “You love my daughter?”

“Your Grace.” Cregan said, removing his sword and bending his knee. “I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”

She walked towards you both. “It is not mine you need to beg for… I sent my only daughter to you, and you spurn her for your dead wife?!”

“Mother!”

“You will not interrupt the Queen when she is speaking.” She commands you. “What do you have to say for yourself, Lord Stark?”

He stands. “I have nothing to say, Your Grace. You are right. My behavior was unacceptable. The princess deserved none of it.”

“Why are you here?” Your mother asks him.

“I’ve come to ask the princess to return home.” Your mother scoffs at him.

She looks at you, then back to him. “You are lucky it is not my decision to make.”

She turns and exits, leaving and commanding his men to wait outside the doors so you both could be alone.

You were even more nervous with just the two of you in there. It is silent for a few moments before you speak.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” You ask Cregan.

“It took you leaving for me to realize I love you.” He says, taking your hands in his. You roll your eyes, taking your hands back and stepping away.

“I can’t believe you.” You say, starting to sob.

“I know, I know.” He steps closer to you again, taking you in his arms as you cry into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“I loved you, Cregan.” You say, crying. “Since I was a girl I loved you. I thought you were different from other men. But, you’re just like the rest.”

Cregan cries into your hair. “I’m so sorry, my princess. I’m so, so sorry.”

You both stand there, holding each other and crying.

“Please come home.” He says. “Let me take you home.”

“Rickon misses his mother, Sara misses her sister… I miss you, you my wife.”

You pull away to look at him, trying to read his normally stoic features. You can see he means it.

“Okay.”

———

You returned to Winterfell on Silverwing, no longer having the strength to remain apart from your dragon.

Cregan had to endure another long and grueling trip back to Winterfell, which you enjoyed knowing he was suffering while you road through the skies.

Rickon had cried tears of joy when you returned, and a week later when Cregan arrived Rickon cried again.

You and Cregan had remained in seperated chambers while you still navigated your marriage, but Cregan made a point to spend every moment of his free time with you.

But you had been keeping a secret from him.

After you returned home to Dragonstone originally, your blood never arrived. The maester determined you were with a babe, which would arrive several moons away in the dead of winter.

Your thick furs and dresses made it easier to hide from Cregan, as you were not ready to tell him.

The babe had complicated things. If you had not been pregnant, you might not have returned to Winterfell when Cregan came for you. But you knew you had a duty, and you believed if Cregan could love you then you could fix your union.

Cregan had indeed put the work in the second he arrived home. He attended to you, conversed with you, ate with you, laughed with you, but gave you the space you needed and gave you the option to be intimate with him when you were ready.

It was strangely like falling in love all over again. You blushed around each other, got nervous and flushed, made each other’s hearts race, shared a first kiss when you were both ready.

Cregan had undoubtedly fallen madly in love with you, and he regretted not taking the time to do it sooner. He couldn’t make up the time he lost being afraid. All he could do now was love you without guilt, love you without fear, love you without shame.

Normally Cregan always knocked on your chamber doors before entering, but for some reason this time he hadn’t. He didn’t know why he didn’t knock, he didn’t know if it happened unconsciously or if he was too busy wrapped up with his thoughts.

Either way, he entered without knocking and by that point the cat was out of the bag.

He said your name, greeting you with a smile, only for it to fall off his face as if it had never been there.

You were in the bath, relaxing in the burning water, but that wasn’t the problem. He’d seen you naked, although it hadn’t been for a few months by this point, but him accidentally invading your privacy wasn’t the problem either.

It was the bump in your belly that was a problem.

Your head turned sharply, covering your chest quickly. “Cregan!”

“Sorry.” He said quickly, turning around to avoid disrespecting you.

“It’s fine.” You said, dropping your arm from your chest. “You just gave me a fright.”

He said nothing for a moment, only continuing to face the wall.

“What is that?” He finally asked. You sighed, stepping out of the tub and into your robe.

You walked up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you now, and his eyes fell down to your other hand resting on the small bump in your stomach.

“Perhaps it’s time we talk.”

“You think?” He spits at you, immediately apologizing after. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be cross with you.”

You said nothing, walking over to the seats by the hearth hoping he would follow.

He did, and he sat next to you, his eyes never leaving your belly.

“Can I?” He asked, gesturing to your stomach. You nodded, untying your robe so that you were bare. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to the small bump.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have accommodated for you, made sure you were comfortable.”

“Truth be told it’s been hard for me to accept I’m truly with a child.” You say, “The reality had not set in until… well until you just now found out... I am sorry, Cregan. I should not have kept it from you.”

He chokes back a sob. “Feels like just yesterday Alysanne had Rickon.”

“He will be overjoyed to know he will have a little brother or sister.” You tell him. He looks at you, his face full of emotion.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks and before you can even finish nodding your head, you’re already leaning in to kiss him.

“I love you. I love you so much, my wife.” He says in between kisses.

His hand did not move once from your stomach the whole night.

4K notes · View notes

lokissweater · 7 months ago

Note

hey! i really love your fics and i have a special request 4 my 19th birthday ( aug 16 ) . can you do inexperienced yuuta x inexperienced reader or frat boy/play boy yuuta x shy nerdy reader? I really luv u and it would mean alot 2 me if you did this,feel free to say no or ignore this if you want! no pressure!

OH MY GOODNESSS i could never ignore this! i can ABSOLUTELY cook this one up for you and i hope i met your expectations!! i wanted to release this right on your birthday, so here is my gift to you! <3 ILY you’re so sweet thank you for sending in a request!

————————————————————————

finally.

{frat boy/playboy yuta okkotsu x nerdy f!reader}

summary: yuta okkotsu is a typical popular frat boy player who’s never been told no, but at one of his regular parties where he spots your pretty little self in the kitchen, and you turn him down? his entire existence resets as he then cannot stop thinking about you and tries his absolute hardest to change the impression you have on him.

warnings: college au, afab!reader, fluufff, mentions of alcohol and drinking, yuta LOVES you, he’s a little weenie at first, character development yuta, no smut in this one!, cursing, party fight, protective yuta, yuta fights someone lol, slight sexual themes but really nothing.

word count: 5k

authors note: OH HOW I LOVE THIS ONEEE!! i hope i’m feeding you guys well this week with these fics hehe!! IM WRITING A FREAKY ONE FOR THIS NEXT SO STAY TUNED!! love you love you <3

————————————————————————

yuta okkotsu was the biggest player and frat boy to ever plague your college campus— having parties literally every other night and trashing the absolute fuck out of his frat house after every single one, living in the privileges of popularity as he was without a doubt the hottest man there.

he absolutely relished in his reputation, loved the attention, loved the stares he got, and had a body count that absolutely shot through the roof in numbers.

and yuta was quite literally a typical frat boy. he was loud and obnoxious, the most stubborn hot headed man to ever exist on the face of the planet, passed the time playing beer pong for fun and drinking, and had girls practically at his feet, him never having to work for anything to get in his bed and fuck.

until he met you.

you had timidly walked into one of his frat parties one night, shy, cutely nerdy, a little scared and absolutely drop dead gorgeous, your energy an entirely different one from his own as he watched you a little too much throughout the night, rehearsing his perfected plan of getting girls into bed with him as he finally spotted you alone in the kitchen after a while, approaching you.

yuta flashed you an attractive polished smile as he leaned up against the kitchen counter, practically cornering you in as you eyed him alarmingly.

“hey,” he sipped at his beer. “what’s your name?”

you awkwardly shifted, wondering where the hell your best friend was as the biggest player you’ve ever heard of was talking to you.

“y-y/n…” you stammered, your gaze barely looking at him but giving a small smile through your nervousness nonetheless.

“pretty name for a pretty girl,” he hummed. “you’ve never come to my parties before, have you?”

you shook your head no, your doe eyes finally peering up at him.

“welcome then!” he chirped smoothly and leaned closer to you, his breath faintly smelling of alcohol. “you here by yourself?”

“no i’m with a friend, actually.” you laughed awkwardly, your cheeks red with embarrassment but smiling politely through your discomfort, not wanting to offend him in any way.

yuta nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd. “did you lose them?”

“i— i guess so—”

“you can stick with me then.” he shrugged, a sly smile on his face as he sweet talked you, it slightly faltering when he noticed how uncomfortable you looked, but carrying on anyways. “you wanna head upstairs? maybe we can—”

“no thank you.”

he paused.

no?

“no?”

he was yuta okkotsu. no girl has ever told him no before.

you shook your head at him and gave him a sugary smile, your tone kind and polite as you started to walk away from him. “i’m sorry, i think i see my friend over there though! thank you for keeping me company, i hope it wasn’t too much trouble!”

he watched you walk away then in your tiny little skirt, and he felt stupidly offended. absolutely stupidly offended as he slightly scoffed and shook his head, taking a swig of his beer, his body and mind literally glitching with the foreign feeling of rejection.

yuta tossed his empty beer bottle lazily in a black garbage bag and stuffed his hands into his pockets, his long legs already pulling him over to the beer pong table in the living room, opting to forgetting the entire encounter he had with you altogether and shaking it off.

except he couldn’t. he couldn’t shake it off.

his brain was buzzing and utterly reeling over the thought of your timid nature and soft spoken words and pretty pretty face from that point forward, thoughts that aggravated him to no end that bubbled up every time he ate, slept, was in class, and did basically anything.

he didn’t know why it was happening. he didn’t know why you took over his every fucking thought as he only interacted with you for like five minutes. but your aura was different. so poised, so shy and gentle, and it was like a red string was physically pulling him towards you everywhere you went.

yuta saw you around campus a lot more after that, you sticking out like a sore thumb and blinding his vision whenever you walked past him, your smile sweet and respectful towards him that lasted only a millisecond as you walked down further, his eyes watching you over his shoulder, soft.

you conversations with him were nothing but polite and casual as he tried to talk to you again and again, your body language guarded and careful, but your voice like silky honey, speaking to him with more kindness than he deserved.

yuta never seemed to be able to get past the invisible wall you built in front of him.

“a girl like her isn’t gonna go for a guy like you, yuta.” one of his frat brothers muttered to him, having been fed up with yuta’s moping and grumbling around the house ever since he saw you.

“and why not.” he gruffed, his arms tightly crossed over his chest as he leaned back on the couch.

“because she’s nothing like us.” he emphasized. “she’s a nerd, respects herself, is way too good for you, and would never let herself waste time with a guy of your reputation.”

his frat brother patted him heavily on the shoulder. “just go back to the ones you usually go for. they’re easy.”

yuta only rolled his eyes and stood, but he really couldn’t deny what he had said. you were too good for him, way too good for him, his life completely mismatched from yours— paths never meant to cross as he solemnly watched you from afar, wanting you to smile at him the way you smiled at others, wanting you to talk about your precious nerdy interests and your studies with him like you do with your friends, and wanting you to just simply look at him longer than the usual casual hello you gave him.

but you never did.

in an attempt to try and talk to you again without seeming like an absolute fucking stupid creep like last time (something he quickly realized), he started throwing parties at his frat literally every single night in hopes of you showing up, scanning the crowd and sulking in a corner when he couldn’t find you, the bags under his eyes growing darker and darker with every time you didnt make an appearance.

he tried to go back to his old ways and hook up with the girls he usually did, tried to bury you in the back of his mind and go back to before, but he just couldn’t, his mind foggy and preoccupied with thoughts of you that invaded his every neuron, making him kiss his hook ups back lazily or straight up just cancel on them— stopping all together in the end.

it had been months, and yuta sat bored out of his mind on the living room couch during another one of his parties, not a single drop of alcohol in his system as music pumped and drummed through the frat that made his headache ten times worse.

these everyday parties were pointless.

he sat up and trudged to the kitchen, pushing past his friends for a beer until he froze.

there you stood, finally, leaning against the kitchen counter all by yourself, just like how you were when he first saw you.

his eyes flew open and he quickly smoothed over his white t-shirt with his hands, heart hammering against his chest so hard that it traveled down to his ribcage as he approached you, internally freaking the fuck out.

“hey y/n,” he greeted quietly and calm, trying his absolute hardest to convey sincerity towards you. “how are you doing?”

your eyes snapped to his and you leaned back a bit, but smiled. “hi yuta! i’m doing okay. how are you?”

he could practically see the wall you had in front of him, your posture timid and cautious, and his eyes only grew more insecure.

“i’m good! do you— do you want a drink? or something? i could—”

“oh it’s okay yuta! i’m fine,” you answered shyly, a grin on your breathtaking face.

yuta gnawed on his thumb, looking around the kitchen for something, anything that could fix the image you had on him.

the fridge.

“do you um—” he walked over to the fridge, almost stumbling over his own shoes as he opened it. “do you want maybe apple juice? or— or i have chocolate milk? or sunny d i drink like an entire dozen a day but—”

you giggled.

his head snapped over to you and watched your pearly smile, shining just for him for a moment, his shoulders slowly relaxing.

yuta sheepishly scratched the back of his neck and laughed along with you.

“sunny d would be great!”

he stared blankly, and then quickly nodded. “o—okay! yes sunny d—”

he ransacked through his fridge, knocking over several cans of energy drinks and beers before he finally found the sunny d’s in the back, tearing one out from the pack and closing the fridge.

“here you go.”

your cheeks glowed pink as you shyly took the small bottle from his hands, a cute wobbly smile on your face that made yuta’s chest clench.

precious.

he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans.

“i wanted to apologize—” he strained out. “for the way i spoke to you when we first met.”

you stared at him.

“it was never my intention to make you uncomfortable, and i acted like a complete dingbat with the things i said, so i just—” he scuffed his shoe against the kitchen floor. “i’m really sorry.”

you were quiet, big doe eyes blinking up at him in shock— until your frame gently deflated, eyes softening for him.

“you don’t have to apologize yuta honestly.” your soft voice soothed him, a sound he craved to hear everyday since the moment he met you. “i don’t think any less of you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“you don’t?”

you shook your head cutely, beaming. “i don’t.”

he felt like he could breathe again.

your invisible wall slowly and gradually crumbled away the more you got to know yuta after that. he was still a little flirt, but only a little flirt with you, and he still did his frat boy job duties everyday, but he toned down the parties massively and stopped playing beer pong and drinking just for fun.

it would be a lie if you said you weren’t hesitant about yuta to begin with. you knew of his reputation and the risks you ran with befriending him the way you were— you well aware that he was trying to win you over, but you saw something different in him that he didn’t show to anyone else, and you trusted him, the goodness of your heart always giving people the benefit of the doubt.

he was trying his absolute hardest for you and changing his bad traits, wanting to become a person that deserved to be with you as he listened to you ramble on and on about your classes and your studies all of the time, him smiling adoringly at you because he genuinely loved so much hearing you talk to him and listen to anything you had to say— and yuta was falling practically head over heels over the way you gushed about your little nerdy interests, your eyes shimmering every time.

“and what’s this one called?” he asked softly.

you glanced over. “that’s the corpse flower! they only bloom for two to three days every two to three years.”

“only for two to three days?!” he whispered harshly, the ambiance in the botanical garden quiet and serene as you both observed the different kinds of breeds, flowers being your specialty of knowledge.

and he wanted to know all about it, even though he had a pamphlet in his hand that told him everything.

he wanted to hear it from you.

“and this one?”

he pointed to a vibrant scarlet red flower.

“that’s the cardinal flower. they attract little bees and hummingbirds!”

your words were gentle and polite, your eyes sparkling at all of the different flowers in front of you.

“oo! and this one—” you stopped suddenly, slowly retracting your hand and looking at him bashfully, your cheeks redder than ever.

yuta’s eyebrows furrowed. “what? why’d you stop?” he looked to where you had been staring. “what about this one?”

“sorry!” you sputtered. “i felt like i was getting carried away and talking way too much…”

you laughed it off, but yuta only shook his head.

“no you weren’t. you weren’t at all.”

you peered up at him shyly.

“you can talk about anything you want with me wherever we are, y/n. i like it when you explain to me these things, or anything you know really.” he ruffled your hair. “i like listening to you.”

your cheeks adorned a pinky shade as you took in what he said, and you smiled so so big then, nodding.

“so what’s this one?” he pressed again, lightly.

the bed contained a mix of white and purple flowers, small and dainty as they swayed to and fro a bit with every breeze.

“those are pansies,” you leaned over the railing. “i like these especially because it looks like they have another pair attached to them on the other side.”

“like a little buddy,” yuta commented.

you laughed softly, “yeah! like a little buddy.”

he pointed to a specific pansy that had one white flower and one purple flower on the opposite side.

“that’s you and me.”

“is it?” you grinned. “who’s who?”

“you’re the white one and i’m the purple one,” yuta absentmindedly turned and grabbed your hands gently, playing with your fingertips— and you let him. “because you’re pretty and really fucking smart and way too nice to me, and i’m a douchebag and sometimes i’m a mean and scary old fart.”

you giggled loudly at his joke, shaking your head. “nuh uh. i don’t agree.”

“you don’t?” he quirked an eyebrow, a silly smile on his face.

you shook your head again. “you’re genuine yuta. really genuine. and you’re funny, you never make me feel embarrassed for the things that i love, and you make others happy!… sometimes.”

yuta laughed, “sometimes?” he softly placed your hands back at your sides. “yeah, you’re not wrong.”

“but you make me happy, always.” you finished off.

his eyes lit up like a firework. “really? so does this mean you’ll finally say yes to going out with me and give me a little kiss?”

you snickered and covered your mouth, your cheeks flushed. “nuh uh.”

“aww mannn,” yuta groaned and leaned against the railing, but turned his head to the side after a few seconds and looked at you, giving a tender smile.

your eyes continued to sparkle over the flower beds in front of you, but yuta’s eyes only sparkled at the one flower in front of him.

that’s where he started calling you flower.

“that’s okay!” he leaned back up. “i’ll keep trying.”

and boy did he try. each and every single day yuta tried as he brought you little treats from the campus cafe, or helped carry your textbooks to wherever you went, brought you neatly packaged flowers or sometimes would even pull his car over when he saw pretty ones on the side of the road, getting off and running to pluck them, handing them to you through the window with a goofy grin.

everything was bliss between you two, and your world only got brighter as you hung out with him.

but for yuta, his world got a little complicated.

his former hookups only grew sour once they found out about you, the girl yuta seemed to spend every waking hour with, completely blind sighted to the fact as they thought he would’ve dumped you months ago already.

and his frat brothers were just bothered. yuta wasn’t managing the frat like he used to before, like he was supposed to as their leader, neglecting the collective reputation they all had with him not sweet talking the entire female student body, or their parties not running every single night anymore— and even when they did run, yuta wasn’t ever even there to begin with, he was with you, something they quickly realized.

“you have to cut it out man,” one of them said. “this frat is turning into a shit hole because you keep spending your time with that girl—“ he stopped. “who the fuck even is she? i mean if it was layla fine everybody knows layla but—”

“who she is is none of your fucking business?” yuta snapped. “and just because i’m not sending girls for you to jerk your dick with doesn’t mean this frat is turning into a ‘shit hole.’”

some of the boys snickered.

“you wanna run the maintenance on the house? you wanna call up the fucking board and ask for the ten thousand fucking permits we have to have for our parties every year? you think you can run that?”

“no—”

“then be my fucking guest.”

“okay fine, i’m sorry man.” he sighed. “we haven’t had a party in a week though, we have to throw one tomorrow and you have to be there. then ill call it even.”

yuta snorted. call it even? whatever.

he begrudgingly agreed, not wanting to be there whatsoever but softening up to the fact that maybe he was neglecting his frat a little too much.

so when he called you up that day for your nightly phone calls, yuta asked for your attendance.

“i know— i know parties aren’t really your thing…” he pursed his lips, staring up at the ceiling as he had you on speaker. “but i’d feel a lot better if you were there… and you won’t be alone! you’ll be with me the whole time so—”

yuta sighed. “…i have been neglecting the frat a little bit, and they’re pissed at me.”

you gasped softly, “they are?”

“yeah but i don’t give a fuck.”

you both giggled.

“but i do want to make them somewhat happy so that’s why i gotta throw this party… can you come? it’s okay if not flower don’t worry—”

“of course i can go yuta!” you spoke cutely over the speaker. “as long as you give me a sunny d i’ll be okay.”

he laughed.

“i feel like…” you struggled. “them being mad and what’s happening with your frat is partially my fault yuta… i’m sorry.”

your voice was so worrisome, you feeling tremendous guilt on the other line as you bit your lip.

“what?” his eyes narrowed. “no flower, absolutely not. why would you think that?”

“because i keep asking you to hang out with me,” you spoke softly. “and i feel like im hogging you from your frat boy duties.”

yuta chuckled and shook his head. “i would ten times rather spend time with you than hang out with these fucking dummies.” he sat up on his bed. “i love it when you ask for me flower. keep doing it please. whatever that’s happening with my frat strictly has to do with me okay? not you.”

you grinned on the other end, your heart giddy. “okay.”

so the night of the party, you showed up to his frat looking absolutely gorgeous in your tight little dress, his hands instantly clamming up and his throat closing at the scent of your strawberry perfume and lovely face alone.

yuta tried so hard to keep his eyes respectful and not drift down to your ass or the way your perfect tits squeezed out from the top, almost physically slapping himself when he accidentally touched you way lower than he should have when guiding you through the crowd.

everywhere he went people were greeting him or passing him shots, him quickly acknowledging everybody and downing whatever they gave him as you shyly and timidly stuck to his body (which he loved).

yuta taught you how to play beer pong that night and cheered like an absolute fucking idiot whenever you would make it in, drinking the cups for you instead as he knew you weren’t the biggest fan of alcohol, which made you a little weak in the knees that he catered to you so much.

the party was actually way more fun than the both of you expected, especially for yuta, because he proudly had you on his arm as you walked throughout the house, you trying your absolute hardest to ignore the stares you got from different girls and not uttering a single word about it to yuta, not wanting to burden him and take his focus away from rejuvenating the frat and his brothers.

all was bliss, until it wasn’t.

“is this her? the girl you’re always talking to?” one of his frat brothers stumbled through the crowd, the one that argued with him the day before, drunk off of his freaking mind as his eyes raked over your body like nothing.

yuta instantly picked up on that and stiffened, “yeah.”

he tried his best to swallow his annoyance and be civil as he gently placed a hand on your back and softly ushered you forward, you shy and clinging onto his shirt. “this is y/n.”

“h—hi.”

“i see why you abandoned us for a nerd man!” he slurred. “she’s fucking hot. never seen tits look so good—”

your breath hitched.

“the fuck you just say?” yuta tugged you behind him. “the hell is wrong with you man? don’t talk about her like that.”

you noticed several eyes looking over.

“what!” he hiccuped dumbly. “they do! why are you getting pissed—”

“i don’t give a shit!” yuta snapped. “don’t talk about her like that!”

he scoffed, swaying a little. “what, like you actually care about her anyways—”

“are you fucking serious?” yuta stepped forward and you tugged him back, your eyes frantic as they scanned over the crowd forming and back to him.

“no yuta, he’s drunk it’s okay—”

“she’s just another one for your body count, once you fuck her you’re gonna leave—”

yuta slipped from your grasp and lunged at him, tackling him and towering over him on the ground as he fisted his shirt and jerked him up, yuta landing punch after punch to his face as the crowd yelled, cheered and recorded around you.

“yuta please!” you tried to get his attention, your chest heaving in a panic as you watched the other guy land a hit on yuta, not wanting him to get hurt over you at all whatsoever.

yuta dodged another coming hit and beat the shit out of him, grueling him down to a mere pulp as everything around him went completely white and fuzzy, his body stinging with absolute rage.

he was furious.

finally, several other frat brothers broke through the crowd and pulled yuta off of him.

“that’s enough that’s enough!”

“guys stop!”

quickly, you grabbed yuta’s hand once they put him aside and tugged him away from the crowd, speed walking to the front door.

“you’re out of the fucking frat you piece of shit!” yuta practically roared behind him as you pulled him. “you’re out!”

your trembling fingers hurriedly turned the knob and opened the door, dragging him out down the steps to the porch and across the grass, not saying a single word to him yet as he kept breathing out desperate apologies to you with every step.

once you both were a safe distance away from the house and just a tiny bit down the street, you let go of his hand and turned to him.

“—fuck im sorry i’m sorry im so sorry—” yuta shoved the base of his palms into his eyes as he threw his head back, “i just fucked everything up between us i—”

yuta knew you would never want to be with a guy like him, especially one that couldn’t keep his shit together and resorted to violence the way he did minutes ago, right in front of you. a guy like that didn’t deserve you. you deserved way way fucking more. and as he tore his palms away from his face, eyes looking up at the night sky, he knew he completely messed up his chances with you for good.

his head snapped down to look at you, his eyebrows pinched and eyes contorted in absolute guilt and agony as he placed his bloody knuckled hands on your little cheeks.

“i’m so fucking sorry he said those things to you like that that was not okay flower,” he emphasized. “and i’m so sorry i beat him when you told me not to i— i just couldn’t stand there when he was talking to you like that man—”

he dropped his hands and cursed, his arms going up as he covered his eyes again.

“yuta it’s okay—”

“no,” he shook his head and looked at you. “no it’s not okay. you deserve way more than this and no matter how fucking hard i try to do better, the life i built before you just doesn’t let me.”

his eyes got so sad, saying words he didn’t want to say, but knew he had to. “you shouldn’t be around a guy like me flower, you really shouldn’t. fuck— i don’t want you around a guy like me. you’re too precious for that. i’m gonna end up screwing you over like i always do—”

“yuta stop.” you raised your voice a little, your tone one he’d never ever heard come out of your mouth, firm and serious in contrast to the sweetness you always gave him.

he shut right up.

“come sit down with me on the curb,” you pulled his arm. “please.”

he followed you and sat down next to you on the side walk with his head down, you taking in how yuta only had one little cut next to his eyebrow, pride funnily bubbling up in your chest as you realized how good he actually fought.

he did that. for you. he made a scene out of himself and protected your name.. for you. although you hated that he got into a fight, you knew he was trying so so hard for you, going above and beyond for a year now trying to fix himself to be a better man deserving of you, and you were immensely touched, no one having put even close to that amount of effort like he was in your life.

“you don’t get to decide what i deserve yuta.”

his eyes shot in your direction “but as a friend i’m telling you—”

you huffed as you grabbed his cheeks and kissed him.

you kissed him.

yuta’s eyes were blown astronomically wide as you did, his heart no longer beating as he could’ve sworn he was dead right now, not believing that you were actually kissing him.

him.

you pulled apart from his lips with a smack, your hands still on his red cheeks. “a guy who’s willing to literally change himself without me having to ask, trying to be better for me everyday without fault for literally a year, doing everything he can to make me happy? definitely deserves me yuta. you deserve me.”

you pecked his forehead softly and pulled back again, his body going numb when you did. “so what if you beat the shit out of him? i would do it too if someone was talking to you like that i don’t care. i’d lose but i’d do it,” you giggled. “i didn’t like the fight because i don’t want you getting hurt, ever, period. but you literally scrapped him up like it was nothing, so i don’t have anything to worry about.”

he shook his head and playfully rolled his eyes. “no flower that’s the thing you’re too sweet to me, i don’t want you justifying—”

“yuta be quiet!” you whispered harshly, giving him a silly grin. “you talk too much.”

you reached up and very very gently pecked the little cut on the side of his eyebrow, feeling a cool calming waterfall wash over his body at the feeling of your soft lips finally on him, something he’s wished upon every star for.

“you’re so good to me yuta, truly you are. and i’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say this because i’m always nervous but—” you smiled endearingly. “i do want to go out with you, and i do want to give you little kisses. all of the time.”

yuta slowly let his forehead fall against yours, feeling like he was in a dream as the only emotion he felt at the moment was bliss. pure honeyed bliss as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, his face burying in your silky hair.

his hard work had finally paid off, and he had every fucking intention of keeping up that work until the day he dies, wanting you, his shy and timid precious little flower forever in his life— you changing him for the better so much that he finally feels like he’s properly healthy, in more ways than one.

“we’re going out tomorrow,” he mumbled into your hair. “bright and early. i’m gonna take you to get breakfast, and then we’re gonna go to that aquarium you’ve been wanting to go to for weeks now, and then i’m gonna buy you a souvenir, and then i’m gonna take you to get your nails done—”

“yu!” you pulled back and giggled happily. “you don’t have to buy me anything my goodness. just you is enough.”

he bit his lip, smiling like a fucking idiot.

“really?”

“really.”

“well too fucking bad i’m gonna do it anyways.”

he pulled you back in as you laughed and buried his face back into your hair, not wanting to break away at all, feeling like the richest douchebag in the world as he finally had you as his.

you scooted your face up then and nudged him, him pulling a part in response as you proceeded to plant another sugary kiss to his lips, yours lingering as they melted into a perfect mold against his mouth, yuta’s heart absolutely soaring, your red invisible strings close together at last.

he finally had you.

finally.

and he was never letting you go.

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