#I’m worried about the memorization part. they want you to memorize shit you’d never need to know

[crowcryptid]

Test in 2 hours

[perpetual-fool]

Feelings

(12/06/22, 3.1k) I was in the hospital again, with my bad heart. I spent the time just thinking, lamenting my past mistakes.

What I don't understand, is when I imagine what I might say if we met again, the only one I ever think of is her. I've gotten attached to a few people over the years, gotten to know some of them pretty well. I wish things had gone differently, but I don't miss any of them, really. The only one I miss is you. still. It's been so long. and we really didn't know each other that well. I know once I told you that, and you just asked "what do you want to know?". And I deeply regret that couldn't just ask. I was broken, I've been broken. I'm only just now starting to stitch myself back together. You've only known someone who was afraid to speak at all, and later someone who flipped between heartless and thoughtless. I've never really been myself before.

I know that doesn't matter. I'm sure you despise me by now. I doubt you'd want to hear another word from me, even if I have changed. I'm sorry you only knew my as I was. I'm sorry I couldn't be a better friend. Not that that would matter either. Empathy isn't enough; it's meaningless without understanding. And I am incompatible. If I'm not being vain, I think the way you put it was "a light that no one can imitate". So I don't try to connect anymore. That also means I don't need to keep things buried, mostly. Maybe you'd actually like me if you'd met me like this. But then, I'm only like this because I know I'm alone. There's no scenario I can imagine where we could have been, I dunno, anything? I don't have the context to understand my feelings. It doesn't make any sense. 

I'm starting to cut my own path into music now. Did you know I never actually learned to read it? I learned them as finger placements instead of tones. I'm going to need to come up with my own notation. I know I'll have to just memorize letter notation eventually, but it doesn't make any sense to me; seven letters for twelve tones, and starting on C? If it was used relatively, like how people refer to the tonic, third, fifth and whatever, that would make sense. It's like it started out relative and was forced into the role of being absolute. And I think eight years of orchestra trained my ear too well. I know once you expressed.. something, about people not being able to hear that they're not in tune, but how can you stand playing guitar? The intonation is all fucked up. I know it's not just me because there's a company in Sweden that makes adjusted fretboards, and they sound heavenly. But when I sat down an really listened to my guitar, it sounded all wrong. Nothing harmonized quite right, if I moved diads from one location to another they were off. It drove me nuts, I don't know why you don't hear it. Or do you just ignore it? So I'm starting with bass; fretless so I can actually play in tune, and acoustic so I don't have to worry about an amp. It is pretty quiet, maybe half as loud as a guitar. That shouldn't be a problem until I can project with my voice. I'm also working on that, current range is about D2-D4. I thought bass would be good for me to harmonize with, as it seems like harmonies more than an octave apart sound off. Like, guitar and viola sounds a lot better to me than guitar and violin. But also notes that low blend together and sound muddy, as I'm sure you know. So if can get the hang of subharmonics I may want to swap out for a 5 string for that B0. I know I'm getting ahead of myself with that though.

And if I recall correctly, I know I said and did a lot of dumb shit the last time we talked. Like, the bad drawing and such. I know it was bad, that wasn't the point. In part I didn't know what else to do, but if you'd told me "wow, that's so bad it looks like a child drew it with their feet" that would've been.. something? Again, I don't understand feelings. And I may be naive but I'm not stupid. When I told you that I could "make noises" from, X to Y, whatever it was, I know that barely audible squeaks and rumbles aren't useful for singing. Although, I think it was C2-E4, so I wasn't that far off. I thought it was patronizing, but maybe you knew something I didn't, Mrs. vocal coach. But I get the impression you were trying to fit me in some box when you called that my range; normalize what I'm saying into something you already understand.

On the topic of patronizing, I really was trying to be civil. I'm not sure if you took it as damning with faint praise or if I just failed to hide my hatred. This is going to be less civil. Maybe you would have preferred that? It doesn't matter I guess, you're not going to read this.

I can't play shell games with my beliefs. Mundane example: when my uncle tried to push me into guitar I needed some picks, and I chose a pack at random because I had no idea what I was doing. They happened to be heavies. And he told me never to use heavies unless I'm playing bass. But later he told me about this guy who played with a quarter because he liked the tone, and I think he fed me some meaningless platitude about how music can be whatever you want. "Do whatever you want, but don't do that" is not a belief I can maintain; I cannot maintain contradictions. My uncle is either a liar or a hypocrite.

I'm sure your denomination doesn't ride the guilt as heavy as mine did. They joke about it, praying for forgiveness three, four, five times during the service. "How much sinning could be happening when we're sitting in the pews?" But the core is the same. We are innately evil, and nothing we can do can ever make up for that. That's the belief that broke me into what I was. Believing every feeling was wrong and every thought not good enough. I'm sure you'd have at least a dozen excuses as to why you should feel good about yourself again after you take the magic bath. I'm wouldn't be surprised if you even genuinely meant them, but they don't work on me. It would only make me think that you are either a hypocrite or a heretic. Aside, I think you're a heretic regardless. As I heard one rando online put it, "If you aren't Catholic or Eastern Orthodox, then you aren't a fucking Christian". Reason being, you have the impudence to reinterpret that book. Catholics at least have their clergy to claim as an authority, but the only authority Protestants have is the book itself. So to interpret the book as anything but strictly literal, then you are judging it by something else. And you have no right, no authority to do that. I've heard the excuse, unless flames start appearing over people's heads and they all spontaneously agree on the same interpretation, you can fuck off with that. So if you dare decide that, say, "women should remain silent in church" was just Paul being a misogynist, then I think all you really believe in is yourself. Not that that's a bad thing. But I think you could be shining all the more brightly.

It was the mission trip that really hammered home that this was not about doing good, it was about making more Christians. And I don't mean the obvious stuff like: sure it's great that we're donating pencils to the needy children, but why aren't we solving whatever problem that's preventing them from getting pencils in the first place? I mean like how they warned us that they actually used wine for communion, because the people there wouldn't believe it had power if it was just grape juice; outright trickery. Or, when we visited a church in the town, it had bare cinder block walls, sheet metal roof, and a dirt floor. There was no door, no windows, they at least had simple wood benches. But the pastor there was telling the people, that anyone could give to the church. If you have no money, weave straw mats, sell them, and then give that money to the church. Heaven forbid we at least make sure these people have enough fucking food to eat before bleeding them dry. There's a couple more things I could get into, a shopkeeper by the waterfall told me there was rivalry between the Catholics and the CoCs, or why the fuck did they fly high school students to Africa to move bags and scoop cabbage. But I think that's enough.

I'm sure your church did substantially more good than mine did. But again, the core is the same. Any good the church does is just to sweeten the poison. It makes me sick to my stomach to step into a church these days, and the chords they use in gospel music grate on me like nails on a chalkboard.

I don't think I'll ever be well enough for this, but I'd like to go back and do things right. Do some volunteer work that actually makes a difference. Maybe learn sign. But there's no way I could withstand the social pressure. And I don't even have the will to take care of myself. That's why I'm getting back into music. I'm hoping, if I can find something that actually brings me joy, something I can understand on my terms, maybe things could get better somehow.

Ya' know, I never really liked playing viola. Not the instrument's fault. In fourth grade music class they brought in some kids from the orchestra to show off. I liked how the cello and the viola sounded, but I thought the cello would be a pain to lug around. Ironically my next door neighbor who was smaller than me picked cello. We walked home together, I could've handled it better than him. Fuck, I'd forgotten he played at all. I was right about the hassle, but then fifth grade we actually started playing some basic shit, and it sucked. It was mildly stimulating I suppose, but filling out the middle of the harmony is boring. I might've enjoyed it just a little more if they'd ever told us that's what we were doing. But despite that, there weren't many violas in the class, so I felt obligated to stay. The next year there were only two of us. I guess I just acquiesced to the role after that. Then I just coasted. I think past that first year, or at least past elementary, I never practiced at all. The time spent in class was more than sufficient for me to keep up. I guess there was just never anything for me to engage with. The only time I recall being excited for the music was when we allegedly had the chance to play the Halo theme. The viola part still wasn't great of course, but was so.. fun? to hear the piece starting to come together. And then she stopped us and said that we, or was it 'they'?, didn't understand the piece. To this day I do not know what that means, or why it couldn't have just been explained, or why that would even be necessary. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing; I didn't learn music, I only learned to operate a viola. About which I am still mildly upset. But if everyone else was already doing their best while I was running on autopilot, then maybe she had a point. Aside from that, the only thing that ever motivated me was you. I could've sat next to you one more year if Mrs. Smith hadn't doubted me. I finally had a reason to care and there was nothing I could do.

I did try just playing on my own but it really didn't appeal to me. Maybe that just wasn't complex enough? I think at this point my old viola is now a loaner instrument at an elementary school for use by larger kids. I'm happy with that ending for it. But I also feel like it wasn't really mine. Same with my guitars, which I also gave away. I feel they were all foisted upon me. I wasn't really engaged, people just kept pushing me. And, I wasn't really myself. I still like how the viola sounds. And a bow can much more expressive than anything you can do with a pick. Maybe if I ever start writing instrumental melody I'll pick up an electric five-string. The seven-string Viper looks cool but I think a violin might be too small for my hands. And maybe I'd want acoustic too, I dunno.

I'm not sure how I should feel about this, but I mostly don't remember you, what we did. In my self-loathing I've blocked most of it out. A few things stuck. I remember your favorite candy was those chocolate-caramel things. I remember you don't drink coffee, though I don't know if that was because you don't like it or because it's bad for your voice; you had tea instead. I remember the nickname you said only your mom called you. I remember Zoe Jane, The Way, and The Kids Aren't Alright have special meanings for you. I remember you wore that key, and when people would ask if that's the key to your heart you'd say it was the key to your dungeon. I remember you had a cross necklace that would flip upside-down, and you'd get flustered when people said they liked your inverted cross. At least, so you said. I remember we drew all over our music. I remember labeling that one section that was just a long rest "the ninjas", and it still amuses me to remember your reaction when you realized there was nothing there to play after saying "I'm gonna play the shit out of that part". I think that's what you said, I'm not sure anymore. I remember I was too afraid to hold your hand even though you told me not to be. I remember I did my best to give you "the world" for that Christmas thing. I remember we used to talk online a lot, and I remember blowing all my minutes for that prepaid phone just talking to you. I mostly don't remember what we talked about. Maybe it'd be nice to reminisce or maybe it'd just dig up old pain, I dunno.

I remember being too hurt to look at you after I thought we couldn't be whatever we were anymore. I remember I kept trying to sit next to you that trip, but you weren't having it. I remember the only reason I wanted to go in the first place was to be with you. I remember I spent most of the trip listening to this one song on repeat that went "can we be us again". I remember the last stop on the trip was this theme park, and they had a glass blower. There was this beautiful glass rose that I wanted to buy for you. But I couldn't afford it, so I bought a smaller one instead. I remember the last time we spoke you said you still have it, and that it was sweet, and that you care for me. And I remember, since you said it in those words, I didn't believe you. And I remember I said something stupid after that. I remember feeling devastated when I found out you'd probably lied to me about keeping your old name. I think at the time I thought you might've been messing with me as a joke, though now I think it's more likely it was so I couldn't find you. Maybe you were right to hide from me. And despite finding you anyway, I still feel like I should've believed you, trusted you. I remember I sent you one last message that was probably completely incoherent. I don't remember what I said. I probably don't want to.

Not that it means anything anymore, but if you were trying to be delicate with me, polite, that was entirely the wrong approach. I really can't read people. If you'd just directly told me to fuck off, I would have. I know this was never going to happen, but what I really needed was someone to tell me, directly and in concrete terms: what it was I did that was wrong, an explanation of why it was wrong, and what doing it 'right' would entail. At best all I ever got was an assessment of my intentions; some variant of "you're being ___". And that is completely meaningless to me, because that was not my intent. The stupid, simple answer to "how dare you say that" is that no one had told me not to yet. And, if all people tell me is to not say that, all I learn is that I shouldn't say anything. So there's certain things I just keep buried now. Maybe you'd think that's a good thing.

I don't know why I'm like this. I can black out the memories, but not the feelings, I guess. Shouldn't it have been long enough regardless? Hasn't enough changed? Haven't I failed completely enough? Still, I miss you. I hope you're happy. I hope you have a nice comfortable home without any screaming or broken glass or a man who overestimates their ability to diy. I hope my memory is not a bother to you. I hope you still have friends to play music with.

And I presume you don't have the rose anymore.

[skylarmoon71]

Bumblebee (Transformers) - Oneshot

You’ve always had this bad habit of sticking your nose where it didn’t belong. Maybe it was the reporter in you. You needed to get to the bottom of every mystery. Most times that wasn’t so bad. The first was the school weirdo Sam Witwicky.

Overnight it seemed like he became somewhat desired, at least to Mikeala. He’d somehow managed to snag the hottest girl in school. A part of you thought he paid her, but sometimes you would catch the look she sent him. It was different, almost warm. Then there was his cousin who popped up like a ghost and no one asked questions. You even did a background check, but you couldn't find anything on social media.

It was like he didn’t exist.

Bee Witwicky.

What kind of name is Bee, did his parents really want him to get bullied on a daily basis?

Your adventure begins.

“Witwicky! I’m really glad I caught you.”

It wasn’t a coincidence. You memorized his schedule. A good reporter always covers their bases.

Bee stumbled slightly at the sound of your call. He’d been attending the school for roughly three weeks.

“O-Oh, hello again."

You could tell that you made him a bit nervous, which just made you that more intrigued. You knew there was a good story here. Your instincts had never been wrong. You’ve printed a number of articles for the school paper, most of which received a bit of recognition. This was your calling. That’s why you couldn’t let this one go to waste.

“Care to answer a few questions? You're still a mystery to the school. I’d love to do a piece on you. Help the students to get to know you better. Like I did with Sean Jeffery.”

“Oh yes, I read about him. He helped the team qualify for the state championship on July 22nd, Dallas Texas.”

“Exactly! I love showing off talented students, you could be one of them.”

It was a little weird the way he recited it like he was a computer.

“That’s nice, but there really isn't anything interesting about me. I’m just a plain old human.” You raise a brow.

“I-I just do regular human things you know!” He was laughing as he backed away.

“A-Anyway I really should get going.”

“Wait I haven’t even-”

“Bee!”

Sam’s voice called from down the hall. When you saw him you frowned. He wore a similar look as he approached.

“Still trying to put my cousin on display so people could mess with him.”

“That’s not what I do, Witwicky. I’m just trying to write a story. Are you worried he might get more popular than you?” You taunt. You can see he’s pretty agitated.

“Hey Sam!” Mikeala’s happy voice sings from down the hallway. When she walks up she looks curious.

“Oh hey, you’re (Y/N). Bee never stops-”

“Telling them about how much you love stories!!” Bee interrupts.

He’s acting weird again.

“I’ll see you later Bee.”

You pull your books closer, walking off to your next class. If only you could get ten minutes without Sam in the way, maybe you could score a great story. As your body fades into the crowd of students, Sam turns to Bee.

“You have to be careful, if people start asking too many questions it’s going to be bad for you.” Sam looks worried.

“She won’t find out anything, trust me. We took precautions. Besides, wouldn’t an article help to prove that I’m normal. “

“He’s right Sam. (Y/N)’s not going to stop. It’s been weeks. I think she likes the chase.” Sam groans.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

~

After school, you’d packed your stuff and set off for your new mission.

It’s become apparent that Sam was going to continue being a thorn in your side, only proving the fact that something was amiss. Like any regular person, you thought stalking them would be the way to go, normal right?

Except this time, you cursed your curious nature, because in this scenario, it would indeed be the thing to kill the cat.

“AAAAH SHIT!!!”

You were pedaling as fast as your feet could take you, but the yellow camaro was still following you down the street. A part of you was praying that it had all been a crazy nightmare. You’d trace Bee back to some weird abandoned building. You found a comfortable spot too. Even Sam and Mickeala were there. At first you assumed they were just delinquents messing with some stuff, but one second they were talking as usual, then the next a blue and red peterbilt pulled up.

Right before your eyes the truck changed, and shortly after, so did Bee. One minute he was human, then the next his skin was replaced by machinery that looked like it was from another universe. He stood upright, blue glowing eyes and all.

Like most teens in such a situation, you screamed. Alerting all of them of your location. You’d almost dropped your phone. But the second you willed your body to move, you jumped on your bike and sped out of there. It’s only when you got back on a main road you saw a car following you. It didn’t take a genius, its patterns were the exact same as Bee’s.

You’d turned down an alleyway to gain some ground and maybe lose them behind the many buildings. For a while you thought it worked, but a large hand came down right in front of you and you were pulled right off the bike. Now you were in a much more secluded place. It placed you on your feet, and as you opened your mouth to scream, Sam rushed over grabbing you and placing a hand on your mouth. You bit him, and he yelled out as you tried to take off in a run.

“I’d advise against running again, human.”

The stern voice of the blue and red robot makes your blood run cold. You fell back, staring up at both aliens.

“Y-You’re gonna kill me. You’re gonna scramble my brains and dump me in some ditch!!”

“Quiet down.”

It sounded a bit angry now, and your mouth slid shut as you trembled.

“We're..not…gonna hurt you…sport..” The radio of the camaro’s car slipped between stations, and you just stared. Bee’s blue eyes blinked, and you finally pushed your way upright, backing away.

“W-What are you….”

Sam looked annoyed as he nursed his hurt hand.

“If you hadn’t gone on a rampage, maybe we wouldn’t have had to get so rough.” He glowered.

“Aliens!!”

Bee pointed to the sky, and the word that came out this time from his station was something you’d heard in a movie.

“Aliens…”

“Yes, aliens!! Are you happy!! You spent the last few weeks poking your nose into our business, now you know. Optimus Prime and Bumblebee here are freaking aliens from another planet that came here to stop other evil aliens that tried to wipe out the human race. We’ve been protecting them as thanks for not letting us go poof into dust!!!”

Sam was huffing angrily from his long speech.

“Calm down Sam.” Optimus said.

“I’m going to take a walk.” He grumbled, sending you a spiteful look as he walked off. Mikaela followed, not before sending you an awkward smile.

“I’m sorry about that, just give us a few minutes.” She walked with him, patting his back. Now it was just you and the two huge aliens. You swallowed.

“I assure you that we mean you no harm. Our only job is to protect the human race from Megatron’s followers. We are allies. That is why it is imperative that our existence in this world stays between very few. We’ve already been exposed once. We cannot run that risk again.”

You clenched the phone in your back pocket.

“P-People deserve to know the truth!! What happened in Mission city, it was all real!! The government covered it all up, lied and said it was some futile attempt by another country. T-This whole time it’s all been a lie!!”

“Sometimes the truth poses more harm than good.” Optimus stated.

You couldn’t believe this.

“Why should I even believe you, this could all be a trick. What if I release what I have right now to the entire internet, would you kill me?” You were treading on dangerous waters, you know that.

“Believe what you will, I cannot stop you from making a decision. Nor will I hurt you.” He sounds almost sincere. Bumblebee takes a step, and the ground gives a little rumble. He kneels to your height, and you hold your breath.

“We’d never hurt you (Y/N).”

Those blue eyes look so innocent, and his voice is the same. The same Bee you’d been dogging for the last three weeks.

“Please (Y/N).” Your hands shake, and reach into your back pocket, gritting your teeth.

“Damn it!!”

You dropped the phone on the floor, smashing it under your feet. Optimus’s optics blinked in surprise.

“Are you happy now?”

Bumblebee knew it took a lot not to follow through with that story. He did a little dance, and you almost fell over. He caught himself, waving his hands in apology. You just released a heavy breath.

So much for your juicy story.

~~~

“Hey (Y/N)!!”

You jump at that voice, and you grab your bag. You’ve been so distracted that you haven’t realized you’re the last one in the classroom. Bee steps inside and he closes the door. Moving backwards, you watch him carefully. He looks like he does a full body scan of you.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, so you can calm down.”

How does he even know you’re panicking? Your face was completely neutral.

“Are you…reading me?”

He looks to the side.

“I’m not exactly human.”

He says it like he’s sad about it. It’s weird, you spent so long trying to read him. Now that you know the truth behind his happy go lucky nature, you aren’t sure what to do with it. More than anything, he should have hated you. All that time chasing him around digging for a story. They could have easily gotten rid of you. Yes it would have raised some red flags, but if the government covered up an entire alien invasion, burying one person would be a piece of cake.

You finally loosen your grip on your bag.

“B-Back at the alley, why didn’t you just take the phone. You guys are super robots.”

It would have been so easy to take what they wanted and threaten you.

“I guess I was kind of hoping you’d keep our secret. I also..” He’s shifting on his feet.

“You also what?”

“I really wanted us to be friends.”

When he looks at you, there’s so much innocence in that gaze. Your first thought is that he’s messing with you, but you don’t read that at all. You aren’t sure what to think at this point.

“Are you pulling my leg?”

Bee’s eyebrows scrunch up in confusion, and he looks down at your legs.

“No I’m not. Y-Your legs look fine to me.”

He looks generally lost, and despite yourself you smile.

“You really are an alien.”

So, it’s possible that you won’t be taken out to keep their secret, that’s good to know.

~

“What about this one?”

You hold out your closed palm, and Bee looks at it.

“It’s an eraser.” You open your hand, and sure enough it’s an ice cream patterned eraser.

“So that’s mad strength, super hearing, crazy hacking skills, and some bionic type vision.” You make a mental note and Bee smiles.

“I thought you were giving up the story.”

“I am, doesn’t mean I can’t still gather data for myself.”

Sam and Mikaela are sitting in his backyard. Now that you know their secret, you were never shy to stop by. Try as he might, Sam couldn’t get rid of you, and Bee liked your company. It’s obvious at this point that he has very little say in what happens. Mikaela laughs at the small frown Sam has.

“Sooner or later you’re going to have to trust her.”

“She bit me.”

“Are you really still mad about that?”

“She never apologized!”

He was a child sometimes.

You and Bee are seated under a tree, and he’s playing with Sam’s dog. You steal a glance at him. If you hadn’t seen it yourself, you wouldn’t have believed it.

“Do you miss it, your home?”

He nods.

“I do, all the time. Everything on this planet is so different.” He looks down, flexing his fingers.

“I used to wonder if it would have been better if we all just perished. Maybe then this world would have been spared of our war. There would be peace.”

Of all the things he could have considered, that’s not one you thought would cross his mind. Everytime you see him, he’s always smiling.

Happy.

“This world was messed up way before you guys came. I don’t think a few alien robots can do much more than what people have already done. “

He smiles, but it doesn’t truly reach his eyes.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He looks over at you, and this time it seems like you’ve finally gotten through to him. Bee just stares, and you jump when a spark bursts from his hand. Mojo jolts, jumping back and running around barking aggressively. Sam starts chasing the poor pup down, and you look back at Bee concerned.

“Are you alright?!”

He nods a bit nervously.

“Y-Yeah I just had a little short. It’s no big deal.”

He’s moving a bit fidgety, and you know something’s up, but you decide against asking. The last time you went poking it landed you in a hairy position. He is an alien after all. You can’t hope to understand everything.

~~~

Whenever you just needed a break from the world, your go to activity was a little walk or jog. This particular afternoon you’re walking through the woods on a path. The quiet was therapeutic.

Or so you thought.

“Move move, shake shake, now drop! What your momma said!!”

The blaring speakers from a car makes you turn. You’re a bit stunned at the car that comes speeding down the trail. Expertly dodging trees and fallen branches. You jolt when it jumps a particular log. As the camaro is airborne, Bumblebee transforms. When he lands, he’s standing upright, hands now on his hips. You’d fallen onto your butt at the harsh landing. He looks down, shoulders raised a bit apologetically.

“Sorry sport.” His radio spits out.

You rise, dusting your pants as you glare at him.

“I asked you to meet me, not crush me.” You lecture. He puts his hands together in what you assume is an apology. You just chuckle, shaking your head.

“What do you need, soldier?”

It’s so funny how he manages to pull dialogues from so many stations.

“I just wanted company.” Bumblebee points to himself.

“Yeah, who else is here dummy.” You giggle at the cute way his optics blink.

“Come on, there’s a really nice spot up ahead that we can chill at.” You reach for his mental hand, grabbing one of his fingers as you pull him along. Bumblebee just follows, his engines revving just a smidge.

Twenty minutes later you pull up to your spot. It’s a little clearing. The trees provide a decent cover, yet he can still see the expense of greenery up ahead. The view was beautiful. You take a seat on a log that looks perfectly shaped into a seat.

“I come here all the time, it’s my secret spot.” You explain. He sits beside you, knees tucked to his chest awkwardly.

“Relax Bee, no one comes here except me.”

It takes him a minute, but he stretches his legs out.

“It’s nice here.”

This time he doesn’t use the radio. You grin.

“Sure is. I’ve been coming to this place for years. It’s my stress relief ball. When things get crazy or I just need a break from life this is where I am. You’re the only one that knows about it now.”

His head turns at that, and you just send him a smile.

“Now you know my secret too.”

He’s not sure how to respond to that.

“She’s so cute.”

So far he's been doing a decent job of keeping his inner feelings to himself, but it’s hard when you keep sending him those smiles. He doesn’t realize until he’s already reaching out. His finger brushes the side of your cheek, and your expression changes to one of surprise. He holds your stare for a few minutes before he processes what he’s just done. Bumblebee practically yanks his hand back.

“I’m sorry!!”

He waves around frantically,

You still appear a bit dazed, and you take his hand, seizing his crazy movements. He stopped altogether.

“It’s okay Bee, I don’t mind.” Your voice sounds so soft. Warm. You shift your position, moving closer to his seated form.

“Bee, is it okay if I..” Your hand is outstretched and he gets the message. He nods, because words have failed him. It’s not done all at once. Your movements are a bit slow, precise. Now standing much closer, both your hands extend, and you cup his metal cheeks in interest. Bumblebee is almost afraid to move. Because he’s terrified that the second he does, then your touch will be gone. His eyes closed, and the sound his engine makes is almost a purr of content. Your smile widens as he leans into your hands.

“Wow…”

It’s crazy, a few weeks ago you thought he was probably some kind of monster. Now you feel almost ashamed for making that assumption. This being was far from a monster.

He’s an angel.

Your curiosity gets the better of you and you accidentally stumble into his lap. To steady yourself, you brace your hands on his plated chest. His hand moves to your waist on instinct. You look up at him sheepishly.

“S-Sorry about that.”

“No problem at all!”

This wasn’t the worst thing to happen. He thinks for sure you’ll pull away now that you’ve gathered yourself, but you lean up, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hug him. Bumblebee grows a bit stiff.

“I’m really glad I met you, Bee.” You breathe against his neck. His optics close, and he does his best not to give off too much of a reaction.

“I’m overheating!”

He is a bit alarmed. Did you really have no idea what this was doing to him? He pats your back stiffly.

“S-So am I.”

You pull back, and when you stare at him, he’s so adorably confused. You grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

That’s the last blow.

“Systems buffering.”

You hear from his radio. It looks like he’s stopped functioning.

“B-Bee!!”

He needed some time to get his processes to return.

~~~~

You hand the document to Bumblebee and his eyes lit up as he scanned through the article you’d done on him. When Sam approached you a week ago concerning a piece he wanted you to do on Bee, you sort of thought he’d gone crazy. Then he explained that rather than spilling all of his cybertronian secrets, you present a column on his experiences in life.

“This week’s paper.” you explain.

Bumblebee provided a lot of insight considering what he’s been through. His views and expectations for the future actually made for a good read. It also helps to reinforce his human cover. In a way, you’d gotten your story and Bumblebee’s secret was still safe.

“Wow…that’s me!” He pointed at the picture of himself excitedly and you can’t help but laugh.

“I think this is some of my best work. You’ve actually drawn in an audience. The principal congratulated me this morning. A few of the journalism departments were actually interested in having me for a summer internship.”

“That’s great!”

It really is.

This was the first time you’d held back the punchline for a story and still felt unbelievably fulfilled. Not because of the opportunities that were now being presented, but the unlikely friendship you’ve gained.

“So is this why you were always chasing down a story for Sam and I?” He placed the paper at his side on the porch and you shook your head.

“No, not entirely. “

Bumblebee tilts his head curiously.

“With you it was more instinct than anything else. As for Sam and Mickeala, I guess I was so interested in them because deep down I wanted the same thing they have.” You pull your legs to your chest, and Bumblebee looks over at you.

“It would be nice if I could find someone to look at me like that.” You murmur.

You let out a sigh, shaking your head as you turn back to him with a little laugh.

“Sorry that I’m getting all mushy.” He doesn’t say anything, and you tilt your head.

“I think you’re amazing (Y/N).”

You think maybe he’s just saying that to make you feel better, but his brown eyes are glowing now, a blue hue and you sort of just gape.

“Bee your eyes…”

He blinks, then turns his head.

“Sorry about that! The human body is a lot more complicated than I thought. It’ll pass. I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He’s massaging his eyelids and muttering something under his breath.

“It doesn’t freak me out.” Bumblebee still won’t lift his head.

“Can I see?”

He shakes his head.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You place your hand under his chin gently, tilting his head back in your direction.

“I’ve literally seen you change from a walking, talking robot to a human. I think I can handle some glowing eyes. “ He finally opens his eyes, and you swallow. It was amazing the way the lights circled his iris. That topped with his innocent nature and boyish charms, there was no way you could truly be afraid of him.

“See, that's not so bad.” You grin, and a small smile makes its way on his face. You move your hand, but neither of you have looked away. Bumblebee is still looking at you, and when he starts to get closer, you take a breath and pull back. You can see the instant regret on his face.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to… I don't know why I..I..” He’s rambling, similar to the way he does when he’s communicating through the radio.

“I-Its fine Bee don’t worry.” You mess with your shirt.

This is terribly awkward.

“Y-You know it’s normal for boys your age to be interested in that stuff.” Why the hell do you sound like a sex ed teacher.

“W-With the new body you just want to test that stuff out and it’s fine. I just think you should do it with someone you actually have feelings for you know.”

“Someone I have feelings for…do you mean like Sam and Mikeala?”

So he does understand.

“Exactly. They care about each other, so it’s normal. So when you find someone like that, you should go for it.”

“I’ve already found someone like that.”

Your guts twists at that.

“Y-You have.”

Why did you sound so disappointed, of course he found someone.

“Well that’s good. You should probably tell them.”

“I have feelings for you (Y/N).”

You pause, hell your entire body froze. Some part of you thinks it’s a joke, but when you look over at Bumblebee, his eyes emit so much hope that it makes your heart hammer.

“Me..?”

You whisper.

He smiles awkwardly.

“I just think you’re so confident and driven and kind. When you found out about me you could have told the world, but you kept my secret. You protected me even though you didn’t have too. Also sometimes you make this face when you’ve just snagged a good story. And when you accidentally eat spicy foods your face scrunches up and it’s so cute!”

He’s actually gushing.

You can hardly believe this.

Bumblebee takes in your speechless expression, clearing his throat.

“A-Anyway that’s all I wanted to say.”

Now he looks bashful, and you want to interject and tell him that he’s the one who’s absolutely adorable in everything he does.

“If there is someone else that you-”

“There’s no one else.” You interrupt.

You weren’t sure it was possible, but the light in his eyes shine brighter, and you smile.

His cheeks are a bit flushed now.

“S-Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

You’re the one who moves a bit closer now. Bumblebee looks your way, and your gaze trails to his lips.

“Before..were you trying to kiss me?”

He nods, partially in a trance.

“Yeah…”

“Do you mind if I kiss you instead?”

“Please do.” He hums. You release a little giggle, hand resting on top of his as you move in. He’s nervous, you can see it all over his face. The closer you get, the faster your heart beats. Bumblebee’s eyes slide shut slowly as you both begin to meet in the middle.

“Bee you ready to go.”

Sam walks out onto the porch, and you both turn.

“Y-Yeah I’m ready.” He stands, and so do you.

“Damn you Witwicky.” You growl. Sam sends you a look, backing up.

“I’ll take that as my que to leave.” Sam says.

Bumblebee sends you a look that adds to the already erratic beats in your chest.

“Guess I’ll see you at school?” He says softly.

You nod.

“Definitely.”

[floral-poisons]

Can you do a headcannons of leona, vil, cater, malleus and floyd reacting to their crush (gn!reader) being confessed to the day they also planned to confess? Reader rejects the first confessor but they don't know that LOL. Also your blog was what made me start falling for Vil!

hi anon!! i'm so happy my vil agenda is being so successful!! i am an avid vil lover and i can understand why people wouldn't like him, but i think we all need a vil in our lives sometimes. i know he would make me get my shit together (and then rook would help too).

thankfully angst is my specialty according to the anons telling me i love angst~

also i kind of want more like...introspective cater (and in general more of his cards like come on stop avoiding me, him and kalim man). like his groovy ceremonial robes is kind of refreshing and like a peek behind the mask. anyways he’s probably the character i would write the most angst for if i had unlimited writing energy. can you guys tell i’m starting to become a simp for cater?

honestly though i can definitely turn these into like full fics for full elaboration on the characters and the aftermath of the miscommunication.

curious about part two? read it here!! (ft. malleus, cater, and vil)

MALLEUS DRACONIA

malleus has been around for a bit. he’s watched people come and go, most notably humans. humans had the lack of longevity that fae had. but there was one human he didn’t want to see fade away: you.

the time you two spent had caused him to grow fond of you. sometimes you two would hang out late into the night and he’d come back to a very worried sebek, telling malleus that he should’ve told him he was going to come back late.

he had plans to confess. and great seven, he went through a lot of work for this confession. he even wrote and memorized a speech for you which went through lilia first.

“ah, young love. it’s been a while since i helped with a confession.” the old man chuckles. “though you have quite the romantic touch malleus. and all for (y/n)...”

malleus would make sure he would not become tongue tied when professing his romantic affection to you. but then again, you always made him tongue tied. you were the only human that could.

he remembered you under the moonlight. your skin glowed and the wind gentle blew against your hair and clothes. you looked ethereal, like a divine being who was only meant to be here temporarily. you’d disappear like the cherry blossoms.

the two of you were going to go to a show held by the pop music club. you hadn’t forgotten to invite him. you would never forget to invite him. and he was going to confess afterwards. he had everything planned out in his head. and every time he thought about the possible end results, a dreamy smile crossed his face.

surely, you’d reciprocate. right?

his footsteps were silent as he approached you from the distance. and yet, he froze seeing someone come up to you.

it was another diasomnia student. they were still wearing their school uniform as they approached you. and he could hear them. he felt his heart drop to his stomach. “(y/n)...i really like you. you’re quite interesting for a human you know. and i would like to get to know you better.”

he turned around and began walking away. he needed to be alone for a bit as he felt his heart beat increase and his hands shake. of course it made sense. why choose him when you could have someone who was normal? a normal citizen? someone who wasn’t revered? there was a lot less hassle to handle.

he could only collapse on his bed in his dorm. you’d say yes. and then you two would start dating...and he would be on the sidelines, watching. maybe you would be the type to prioritize a partner over your friends. he would become uninvited. it would be gradual, slow.

the idea of loneliness settled in his mind and he felt his eyes begin to tear up thinking about wandering without you. why did he have the sudden urge to cry? it’s not like you were together. it was unfair of him to have the expectation that you’d say yes. it was selfish of him. he let himself get carried away.

the great malleus draconia has fallen.

CATER DIAMOND

confessing...it couldn’t be harder than forming a caption. they were similar in that way. it had to be meaningful, short and sweet. that was the best confession wasn’t it?

you had seen sides of cater that no one else has really seen. you’ve seen him frown and be upset and lose his happy-go-lucky persona that everyone loves on magicam. that was the curse of social media, you guess.

today was particularly special. he was going to confess. you were his rock, his anchor. you got him through those episodes of depression that just...really made him not want to leave his bed or room.

he even measured out the sides of his diamond with his makeup. and he did it in black compared to his normal red. you told him the black one looked really good on him during halloween and that he should do it more often.

his heart swelled at the thought of confessing to you. and it swelled even more when he thought of the potential feelings you could reciprocate. he felt his cheeks heat up thinking about taking you on a date.

he would make sure to treat you like the royalty you are.

night had fallen and he was walking over to your meeting spot. the two of you had decided to attend the movie screening hosted by the film appreciation club. they were airing a rom-com tonight. funny right?

you came into his line of sight and again, cater’s heart swelled. you looked so good tonight even if you were in your normal clothes. there was a skip in his step as he began to close the distance between you two.

and then it all fell apart.

someone approached you. they were still in their uniform. octavinelle. he couldn’t hear what they said. but he could read their lips. “i like you a lot (y/n). and i have since i first met you. do you wanna sit with me at the movie screening?”

what was he thinking? he was in over his head! you wouldn’t choose him. why would you? he had so many problems underneath the surface. he was broken. you were stressed out. and he would add to that stress. why would you choose someone as broken as cater diamond?

he turned around and ran. you didn’t notice him because the sudden confession from your classmate shocked you and you had been on your phone before, scrolling through cater’s magicam. you contemplated if you should confess your affection for him tonight during the movie.

cater had to catch his breath. he had ran back to his dorm and into the rose maze. here there was solitude and he would be left alone. the two of you spent a lot of time here. he felt his heart squeeze with pain.

“these roses are half painted...riddle’s going to be irritated in the morning.” he sighed. he put his phone up and activated the camera, positioning himself in front of the roses. he smile his signature smile and gestured to the roses. once he took a few pictures, his smile turned into a frown as he picked which one to post to magicam.

Found these half painted roses! Heartslabyul, you know that’s not how we do it! #FirstYearMistakes #InTheZone #DoItMyself

VIL SCHOENHEIT

he had a plan. it was a very meticulous plan that he made sure to optimize. making sure you were free? check. making sure it would during a time where you two could be private? check.

he had to look his best today too. he needed to make sure he looked worthy enough for your affection!

“you got this.” he smiled in the mirror. “confidence is key!” but why was he so nervous? he shouldn’t have been. you two have been friends for a while now and he was certain that you liked him back. rook had approved of the plan.

it was obvious that vil had a crush on you to rook. why wouldn’t vil have a crush on you? you were just gorgeous to look at. you had a glow to yourself that was only yours. and he was smitten by that glow. he was smitten by you.

you spent time with him, ran with him. you even helped him practice dancing and his singing so he could prepare for competitions. you went shopping with him and gave your honest opinion when most people would rather sugarcoat and get on his good side. he despised that. but he didn’t despise you.

a lot of things could go wrong though. life was unpredictable. and you were a noticeable presence at school. people were bound to cause his plan to unfold. but vil had faith. he had complete faith.

his plan seemed to be going well. he found you in the cafeteria and was ready to approach you.

vil stopped in his heels upon seeing another student in front of you, talking to you. he overheard what the student said.

“i like you (y/n). and i was hoping that you’d be my date to the yearly carnival?” the savanaclaw student looked nervous

a sudden pang rammed its way through his heart. he felt his hand begin to shake slightly. and he felt speechless. all his confidence from earlier completely shattered and collapsed.

you’d say yes without a doubt. a savanaclaw student was asking you out. and you had told vil your general preference were athletes. and well...guess which dorm was full of them.

vil cleared his throat and turned around, walking away. his heels clicked along to the hurt beat of his heart.

he never stood a chance, did he?

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

it wasn’t like him to put this much effort into something. but this wasn’t school. this was his personal life. and that involved you. you were the special thing in his life.

for weeks now, leona has been contemplating on how to confess to you. he had fallen for you. hard too.

ruggie often teased him from how noticeably sheepish leona got when you were around and how leona put in extra effort to see you, talk to you, hold your hand even.

he walked you to class, got lunch for you, woke up early just to see you in the morning. he even went with you on errands which gave him a much more intimate look at you and vice versa.

leona didn’t have a plan. he would wing it once he found you and asked to talk to you in private.

after all, the best words would be words from the heart.

the bell of your final class had rung. you were helping put stuff away after your potionology lab. and leona decided this would be the perfect chance to confess.

except someone had beat him.

“(y/n) i...i really like you! i like you a lot! you’re brave and you’re funny and...would you go out with me?” the student professed.

he saw the dorm logo on the sleeve of the lab coat. pomefiore. you always said you had a thing for people that kept up beauty regiments and were more put together. which was...different from him.

what had he been thinking? you? choose him? someone from pomefiore had the ambition that he lacked. they were more put together than him. they were flawless. and he was full of flaws. why settle for him? you deserved better. you didn’t deserve someone as subpar as him.

leona couldn’t help but turn away from the two of you, blocking out any other noise as he quickly put away what he needed. he swiftly walked away, needing to change. he could feel tears beginning to form in his eyes. “stupid, stupid, stupid.” he mutters.

why did he even put in effort?

FLOYD LEECH

floyd was an unpredictable student. a lot of students feared him because of his mood swings. but for some odd reason, he was quite stable with you. you saw a stable floyd. you were aware of his mood swings. but something about you calmed him and allowed him to be leveled.

he thought he would scare you when you first met. there was nothing better than intimidating newbies. and yet you just looked up at him, smiled, and said he was very tall and it reminded you of your younger brother back home (it wasn’t fair how you were the shorter child even though you were older).

that quickly made him nosedive into falling for you.

you were bold, honest, straightforward. you wouldn’t handle other people’s bullshit which is probably why you dealt with overblots so well. “i just wanted to pass midterms and relax! and now i have to deal with your overblotted ass!” is what you had yelled at azul after he overblotted.

your boldness was just...so fucking hot. he felt his face become red every time he witnessed it. it was just...divine.

it was an impulse decision to confess to you. he had just finished basketball practice with ace and jamil. jamil was surprised today because floyd had been playing rather gentle compared to his usual competitive fervor. the moray’s head was filled of thoughts about you, not basketball.

he found you at the mostro lounge, sitting alone and looking at the menu. you were contemplating what to eat. floyd knew what you would order. it would be your favorite meal. you were consistent and predictable.

life however? not so much. life was more like floyd.

he was going to walk over, but someone else approached your table. it was a dude from heartslabyul. his pale face was completely red. and floyd could hear words he didn’t want to hear.

“(y/n)! i...i really like you! and i...will you go on a date with me?” you were surprised. this was...not expected. and in public too. why were men so bold? why did men have the audacity?

floyd angrily scoffed and turned around, walking away. he felt his body get hot with anger. but after a few minutes, it dissipated. what’s to stop you from saying no? why would you say yes to floyd anyways? he was unstable, unpredictable. this other dude was probably predictable and stable. he was foolish to think that?

“fuck...maybe azul has some first years acting ridiculous so i can squeeze them.”

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 7

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k (woops the longest part yet)

Summary: You finally decide to lower your pride and talk things out with Bucky.

Warnings: SMUT IS BACK BABIES! Oral (f receiving), edging, orgasm denial, also lots of alcohol consumption, Bucky stalking you, annoying people I guess? Uhhh y’all might want to strangle me at the end lmfaooooo

A/N: I’m gonna be honest, every single time I update this I get nervous as fuck because what if this story starts to suck lmao but okay I just hope everyone’s still enjoying this story. Thank you for the continuous support like fuck??? People actually like reading my shit so I’m really flattered. Sending y’all sloppy kisses ‘cause I’m a hoe like that

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

"Uhh you might want to slow down on the drinks."

Mark was right about the bar serving the best drinks. It was actually a Mexican-themed bar which also served Tex-Mex food. The drinks were so good that the main course hasn't even arrived yet and you were already on your third frozen margarita.

"Let me have this, Mark. It's been a pretty shitty week." you told him, finishing up your drink before asking the waiter for another round.

Mark watched you with a funny look on his face, the kind that was baffled at the way you were acting now. He probably thought you were all prim and proper, given your demeanor at the office. But with the way you were stuffing your mouth with chicken quesadillas, you were far from being the department head that everybody seemed to respect.

Stress eating. That was what you were doing, because holy shit did you get on Bucky's last nerve. With the message, no, more like warning, that he sent you earlier, you might as well have your last meal before your execution.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Mark carefully asked but there was a hint of amusement in his voice as he watched you eat.

You hummed, mouth full of food. "Totally okay. These quesadillas are the bomb, actually."

Mark laughed, "It's good that you're enjoying the food. I'll be honest, I really appreciate that you agreed to go on this date. I mean, if you even would like to call it that." he explained, much to your relief actually.

You swallowed your food and took a sip from your glass of water, "Thank you." you told him. "Well, this can be a date. A friendly one, of course." you awkwardly chuckled.

Mark nodded, "I don't want to pressure you into anything. I guess I got a little to enthusiastic earlier and I'm really sorry for that. It's just that...you're a really interesting person and you're cool." he admitted with a charming smile.

If Bucky was out of the picture, you would have actually swooned at Mark's charm. He wasn't so bad, he was tall and handsome. He oozed a certain charm, the nice guy kind of charm and any girl would really appreciate the honesty he was showing you now.

You smiled at him, "You're pretty cool too, Mark."

-

The friendly date was very fun, you definitely didn't expect to enjoy it to the point of forgetting about Bucky's warning. Mark was a nice guy, you realized. Bucky doesn't have to worry about him because it was never even your intention to make him jealous in the first place.

By the time the dessert was being served, you were bellowing from laughter. You literally had tears in your eyes from how hard Mark was making you laugh with his hilarious stories.

Little did you know that from someone else's point of view, you looked like you were having the time of your life with Mark. Your laughter, the ease you were exuding as the both of you talked-- it was very easy to misunderstand.

Especially if that point of view belonged to none other than Bucky, who was sitting silently inside his car that was parked right across the bar.

"Oh god, I can't breathe!" you exclaimed amid your laughter, leaning back against your seat.

Mark heaved out a shy, "That was really, really embarassing." he said timidly.

Mark's phone buzzed in the middle of the conversation, his face turning into a frown as he read the message.

"Hey, everything okay?" you worriedly asked.

"It's my younger sister. I'm needed back home." he explained with a sigh.

"Is everything okay?" you asked worriedly, holding Mark's arm to comfort him.

Mark nodded, "It's fine. It's just a little family emergency." he said before offering you an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I can drop you off on the way home--"

"Hey, it's fine. You can go. I'll be fine. Your family needs you." you reassured with a smile.

Mark sighed, "I'll make it up to you next time." he said, fishing out a couple of bills from his wallet.

You walked out of the bar with Mark and bid goodbye, giving him a friendly hug before he slipped inside his car. As soon as Mark drove off, you headed back inside the bar and ordered a couple of shots because you badly needed to get Bucky off your mind.

-

Your head was pounding when you stirred awake, your throat burning and vision spinning as you opened your eyes. The light that greeted you made you hiss, pulling the covers over your head you tried to get back to your slumber.

Until you realized that the bed was soft, too soft to be your own. And when did you even own a duvet?

Slowly but surely, you sat up and looked around you, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. This was definitely not your room. Shit, did you sleep with Mark? Fuck no, you remembered him going home early due to a family emergency.

You squeezed your temples and shut your eyes, trying your best to recall everything that happened after you went back to the bar. Flashes of tequila shots and glasses of mojitos made you dizzy. Jesus christ, how many did you drink?!

And then you threw up in the streets as you attempted to walk home. Shit. Someone pulled your hair back while you puked and then there was nothing but darkness.

Pulling the duvet down, you noticed that you weren't wearing anything but a white shirt and your panties. You lifted the shirt up to your nose and sniffed it.

The scent was too memorable to forget.

"I thought you wouldn't be up until the afternoon."

You stilled at the sound of Bucky's voice and you almost didn't want to look up from your lap when he walked into his bedroom. How the hell did you end up at his place?!

"Four frozen margaritas, two shots of tequila and two tall glasses of mojito. I'm surprised you're still alive." he said as he stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

He was wearing a tight black shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. This was the most casual you'd ever seen Bucky, but also the most feral. You thought that the scowl he gave you at the elevator was the worst, apparently, this Bucky in front of you, seemed the most dangerous.

"Why am I here?" you asked softly.

Bucky rolled his eyes and walked over to the bed side table, fetching the glass of water and a bottle of painkillers that you failed to notice when you woke up.

"Drink." he commanded and waited for you to take the glass before moving back to stand at the foot of the bed.

Your eyes never left Bucky's when you popped a pill into your mouth. After drinking water, you carefully placed it back on the bedside table and exhaled heavily.

"What happened last night?" you asked again.

"Your date left you." Bucky said, matter of factly.

You snickered, "It wasn't a date and Mark didn't le--"

Your very own squeal cut your statement off when Bucky threw the duvet aside, grabbing your ankle and pulling you towards the edge of the bed until your legs were hanging off. He didn't waste any time to kneel in between your thighs, holding your neck in place as his nose brushed against yours.

Your lids fluttered at the closeness, his scent yet again invading your senses, making you lose all your inhibitions because fuck, it's been too fucking long.

"Let me have this, please..." Bucky whispered against your lips.

When you failed to respond, Bucky took it as his go signal to crash his lips against yours. You knew this was a bad idea because one taste of Bucky and you're gone and yet you let him take what he needed from you.

Because you needed him just as much. So you kissed him back fervently, your fingers carding through his hair as you tugged him closer, wanting to feel and taste all of him.

Bucky breathily chuckled when you whined as he pulled away, only to shower your neck with open-mouthed kisses which made your body buzz with need. Your head was still hurting and you felt like you were going to pass out from dizziness but fuck it, you couldn't care less. Especially not now when Bucky was now nipping at your inner thigh while his hands were spreading you wide open.

All your thoughts flew right out of the window the moment Bucky pushed your underwear aside, his mouth quickly latching over your clit. A needy, raspy moan escaped your lips when Bucky sucked your bud followed by his tongue flattening against your folds.

"Fuck, Bucky..." you breathed out, falling down on your back as he continued lapping up your pussy.

You'd almost forgotten how fucking good Bucky was with his mouth and tongue. You elicited another whimper when he pulled back, but only to stand up and pull down his sweatpants, revealing his cock-- already hard and weeping with pre-cum.

In one swift motion, Bucky slid into your cunt. He leaned down to kiss you, swallowing your moans as you adjusted to his size. With how your pussy was clenching down on his cock, you realized that indeed, it's been too fucking long.

Bucky moved slow at first, letting you adjust to him before he began to speed up his thrusts. His breathing was erratic, soft grunts and growls reverberating from his chest as he fucked you. You gripped his forearms when he started pistoling his hips into yours, the head of his cock kissing your cervix.

"Want you to watch me fuck you." he growled, pulling you up to lean against your elbows.

Bucky held your neck with both his hands, forcing you to look down at your pussy while his cock slides in and out of it. Your face scrunched into pleasure, your mouth open as moans and whimpers continued to escape past your lips.

"Keep your eyes on my cock, see how your pussy takes all of it." Bucky demanded as he fucked you relentlessly.

Your thighs began to tremble, your entire body thrumming from pleasure. You tried to keep your eyes open as you watched Bucky fuck you fast and hard. Clawing at his biceps, you held on for dear life when you felt yourself teeter at the edge of your climax.

"Gonna cum, Bucky..." you moaned as your eyelids fluttered.

Bucky kissed your hard, taking your bottom lip in between his teeth before tugging at it. He pressed a soft kiss beneath your ear, licking at your skin before sucking your earlobe.

"Remember this when that Marcus fails to fuck you real good." he whispered and then pulled out just before you could even cum.

You blinked, unable to process what just happened. Bucky stood up and pulled his sweatpants back up. He rubbed his chin angrily before turning to you.

"You really blew me off to be with a guy who left you at the bar." he said.

Bucky really seduced you, fucked you raw only to edge you and deny you of your fucking orgasm. And now he was reprimanding you? While your legs were spread, panties pushed aside and your wet pussy out there for the world to see. You quickly adjusted your underwear, pulled your shirt down and sat up.

"What the fuck, Bucky?" you hissed. "First of all, his name is Mark. Second, he didn't leave me at the bar!" you exclaimed before you realized something.

"Wait, how did you know?" you asked, finally realizing that Bucky seemed to know everything that took place last night. "Bucky, did you follow me at the bar? Is this why I'm here?" you asked, standing up to come face to face with him.

Bucky shrugged, "So what if I did? If I didn't, you'd wake up in the streets, in your own vomit because again, you went for a guy who couldn't even bring her girl home. You should actually thank me." he said.

"Thank you!" you yelled. "I appreciate you bringing me back to your place. I really do." you said, calmly this time. "But can you please not bring Mark into this because he's a nice guy." you explained, squeezing the bridge of your nose.

Bucky snorted, "You call that nice? He left you!" he said again.

"He didn't! There was an emergency, for fuck's sake! He needed to go home and I said I can take care of myself." you said. "I shouldn't even be explaining myself to you yet I am because you're being really irrational right now." you scolded Bucky.

Bucky shook his head, "You really expect me to believe you? I saw how you laughed with him, how carefree you looked when you talked. How you caressed his arm and you're asking me not to bring Mickey into this conversation?"

You hid your face into your palms, "It wasn't a date, Bucky. We both made it clear. And he's a good person, I enjoyed talking to him. That's it. And again, it's Mark." you said through gritted teeth.

"Not a date my ass, you were flirting with him." Bucky accused.

You scoffed, "I wasn't flirting with him! I was casually talking to him like how a friend would! How hard is that to understand, Bucky?!" you exclaimed.

"You were never like that with me!"

"It's because we did nothing but fuck each other, Bucky!"

"That's why I wanted to make it official but you said no!"

"I already told you the reason why!"

"And yet you went out with a co-worker!"

"We're not just co-workers, Bucky. You're my fucking boss! The fucking CEO! How many times do I have to...you know what, it's useless for me to even explain it again to you." you said.

Bucky chuckled bitterly, "You're going to regret this." he said with a sinister smirk.

"Why can't you understand where I'm coming from?" you asked exasperatedly.

"Maybe because you won't let me help you." he said confidently. "And you know what I hate the most about this thing we have? It's that you want me too but you're too stubborn to give in. And you know what? I'll make sure you do." Bucky said, towering over you and staring deeply in your eyes.

"What I want, I always get."

-

The weekend passed by like a blur-- a huge, messy blur that made your head and heart hurt. You wanted to spend the weekend to ponder on things, to forget about Bucky even for just a while and now that was impossible after everything that happened.

You caved in first, that was for sure. And the thing is, you don't even regret it but then Bucky exploded and now everything seemed to have gotten worse. You understood why he was so mad at Mark, poor guy though, but he wouldn't even listen to you when you said that the date wasn't even a legitimate one!

"What the fuck did I get myself into?" you uttered under your breath as you sat in your car in the parking.

You began to analyze the situation you were in and drew out possible solutions to your dilemma. Nothing a good conversation can't solve, right? So maybe talking things out with Bucky properly would make things right. The previous conversations you had with him were always too emotional with both your egos getting in the way.

Alright fine, you'd tone down your pride for Bucky this time around and tell him that you do want to be with him. It's just that the repercussions scared the living daylights out of you.

You can't afford to lose your job nor everyone's respect. So if you were going to do this with Bucky, he has to understand that he has to be really careful. Everything must be done in secret, for the meantime at least.

"That sounds about right." you sighed, feeling hopeful that this might actually work out.

The shift in your mood gave you a little bounce as you walked into the building. You were confident that maybe Bucky was able to calm down over the weekend. Perhaps today was a good day to have a decent talk with him.

As soon as you reached your floor, you hurriedly went to your cubicle to drop your things. The earlier you get to talk to Bucky, the better. So as soon as you were done, you jogged back to the elevator excitedly, unable to notice how everyone seemed to be preoccupied gossiping about something.

Your heart was pounding as you walked along the corridor leading to Bucky's office. Fuck, you were really going to risk it all for one Bucky Barnes. You were a few steps away from the door, ready to reach for the knob when an unfamiliar voice called your attention.

"I'm sorry?" you asked, turning around.

"Sir James said not to let anyone disturb him right now." you were met with the presence of a blonde girl who looked younger than you, an intern maybe?

You nodded but then spared another glance at Bucky's office. "Yeah, I uhh need to talk to him. It's usually not a problem for me to barge into his office." you explained with a soft chuckle.

The girl made a face, "I'm sorry, but I'm just following Sir James' orders." she explained, walking around the desk near Bucky's office.

"I don't think we've met. Are you an intern?" you asked, trying to be as nice as much as possible.

The girl giggled, straight on giggled cutely and stood up again. She excitedly extended an arm for an overly eager handshake, "I'm Beverly. I'm Sir James' secretary. It's my first job!"

You blinked, "Oh...oh uh what happened to Amelie?" you asked, curious about Bucky's previous secretary.

Beverly tilted her head, "I don't know. I just got a call over the weekend from Sir James, offering me the job so I accepted it. I mean, he is pretty cute. Right?" she said in a soft voice.

Is this Bucky's plan? To hire a younger, more bubbly secretary who'd follow his every order? Someone who was the complete opposite of you? Because if this was his plan to get you to cave, it wasn't working. At all.

Sure, Beverly was pretty and young and very chirpy. But you were sure she wasn't Bucky's type. He was never into obedient little girls, hell, your defiance turned Bucky on. This was definitely not working.

You didn't know why, but instead of relief you felt even more nervous. Because if this wasn't Bucky's threat to you, what could it be? You snapped out of your pessimism, maybe Bucky came around over the weekend too?

Only one way to find out.

"Beverly..." you carefully said. "I'm just going to go inside. And don't worry, I'll make sure that Mister Barnes won't get mad at you. This is all me, alright?" you reassured.

Beverly pouted and sighed, "I don't know, because he was very clear with his instructions. And he's talking to--"

"I got you, Bev. I'm going in now." you said, cutting her off and then going straight for Bucky's office.

Taking in a deep breath, you pushed the door open and wasted no time to talk.

"Hey, I really need to talk to you. I thought about--"

"Oh, who's this little lady?"

Your eyes widened upon seeing Bucky in the company of another woman. She looked like she was around your age, except that she was taller and had legs for days. Her brunette hair reached past her shoulders in lovely waves. She was wearing a white chiffon blouse paired with a pair of black trousers and matching stilettos.

She oozed the charm of a lady boss. The way she carried herself reminded you of someone but you just couldn't point out who it was.

"I'm sorry to interrupt." you said, straightening up and turning to look over at Bucky who lifted a brow at you.

That fucking look of mischief.

"I told Beverly not to let anyone in." he said.

"I just wanted to--"

"Oh come on now, Bucky. Don't be so grumpy this early, you were about to call everyone for a meeting anyway." the woman said, turning to you with a smile.

Did she just call him...Bucky?

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Bucky rolled his eyes and sighed, "Yeah, well you're already here might as well introduce you first."

You narrowed your eyes at Bucky in confusion, "I don't understand what's going on." you said.

Bucky stood up from his chair and walked over to the other woman, standing beside her. Seeing them side by side was making you feel things. You haven't even seen them interact that much but you were already sensing that you were going to hate their dynamics.

"This is Mackenzie. I hired her to help us out on a huge project which I will be discussing with the entire team this morning." Bucky introduced a little too proudly for your liking.

Mackenzie offered her hand, "You can just call me Kenzie. I'm a marketing consultant. And you are?" she asked.

Your blood boiled, your eye twitched and your heart ached. Because now you realized who it was that Mackenzie reminded you of when it came to her charisma.

You.

And not only did she have a similar personality to yours-- confident and had authority-- but she also seemed to be here to take the one thing you worked so hard for.

You offered a smile, taking Mackenzie's hand in yours as you mentioned your name, your piercing eyes glancing over at Bucky.

"I'm the head of marketing."

-

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag​ @weird-mumbling​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @mostly-marvel-musings​ @squishybabies​ @megzdoodle​ @suchababie​ @annathesillyfriend​ @xhollycowx​ @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @5-seconds-of-mendes​ @gogolucky13​ @countonthesun​ @iloveshawnieboi​ @learisa​ @borikenlove​ @scarlet-natasha89​

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii​ @jessou893​ @stealapizzamyheart​ @bagelofthelord​ @mxnt​ @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky​ @ohladymacbeth​ @wildflowergubler​ @supraveng​ @twinerd14​ @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3​ @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm​ @charminivy​ @amelia-song-pond​ @iamvalentinaconstanza​ @mcubqrnes @im-squished​ @tcc-gizmachine​ @sipsteacasually​ @prettyintopeerpressure​ @weloveyasmin​ @est19xxshit​ @bloodhon3yx​ @dressed-in-prada​ @lizette50​ @thatfangirl42​ @sunflowerbunny2​ @unmagically​ @okiegirl24​ @sugarpunch-princess​ @enlyume​ @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp​ @lyoongx​ @just-deka​ @nobody-will​ @jaziona92 @elisebuitron​ @dpaccione​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x​ @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​ @iloveangstposts​ @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni​ @girlfriday007​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @its-yasbxtch​ @whoth3hellisbucky​

[thebiggestfan1]

Are you in town? - Matthew Tkachuk (part 1)

part two here

part three here

word count: 1860 words

TW: language, angst (?)

let me know if you want part two, I’m somehow still not sure

...

It was so hot that day. The movers were already gone, the place feeling empty without all the furniture. In a few hours, you'd be long gone, flying far away from Chesterfield.

Some small part of you felt sorry for selling your parents' house - the house you spent your whole childhood living in. But they moved out a few years ago and told you many times they didn't mind at all selling it.

Wiping the sweat off of your eyebrows you made your way through the blooming garden, trying to memorize every little detail. You remembered climbing this tree, you remembered the hole in the fence you made so the neighbour's dog could come play with you, you remembered the time capsule you and Matt buried here when you were fifteen.

Until now, you completely forgot about that. Even though you two didn't talk after he got drafted, it'd be a good idea to meet again since you might never see him again. You might be moving to Calgary but that city was so big it'd be a miracle to meet Matthew somewhere.

So you scrolled through your phone, praying he didn't change his number after all those years as you dialed it.

The phone rang twice before someone picked it up.

"Yes?"

Matthew's voice was so different since the last time you talked.

"Hey Matt, this is Y/N, I'm moving out today and I thought we could dig up the time capsule we buried at my place as kids before I leave. Are you in town?" It was off-season so you might get lucky.

"You are moving out already? But yeah, I can meet you in an hour if you have the time."

"Yes, I'll still be here, don't worry."

"Okay..." There was a moment of awkward silence, neither of you knew how to break it. Was it a bad idea? Of course you wouldn't be as good friends as you once were. But you didn't know it would be this... weird. He didn't say goodbye back when he left to Calgary and didn't answer to any of your calls or messages. What were you thinking? That he wanted to see you?

"So, where are you moving to?" Matt finally continued, making the conversation more bareable.

"Calgary, they offered me an amazing job there."

"Really? I've been there for a few years."

"I heard." Not from you, was what you didn't say. It seemed like he'd heard it nonetheless.

Silence. You hated how distant you've grown - once, a long time ago, you were best friends. You went together to kindergarden and since then you've been the best of best friends. But even after all you went through, you didn't know what to say.

"Nevermind, I have to get going. I'll be at your place at three, okay?"

"Okay. I'll meet you there."

As you hung up, sadness enveloped you. Maybe you shouldn't have called. Maybe it'd be better to never meet Matt again, to remember only the good old times.

But he might be already on his way and you wanted to say a proper goodbye before going far, far away.

You loved him once, you recalled. It broke your heart when he left without looking back.

It irritated you that you couldn't do the same as easily.

...

"Y/N?" a now familiar voice called, the sound of closing car doors echoing through the silent street.

Matt looked same as he did four years ago and still totally different. It was like staring at a stranger you could swear you've already seen before. The curly, those pretty grey-blue eyes and the crooked smile you remembered and thought about too often. He got taller and more mascular over the time he played hockey professionally.

"Hey," you said nervously, tucking your slightly trembling hands into the pockets of your shorts.

Again, that uncomfortable silence took place.

"How long is it?" Since you've last seen each other. Since he'd ignored your calls and messages. Since he'd left you crying as he left this town - as he left you.

"Five years," you said.

Regret flashed in those pretty eyes as he took you in. Did you look to him the same as you did the last time he saw you?

"I'm sorry I didn't call." That was it? After five fucking years of silence, this was his apology for everything. This was a mistake. You didn't think it through when you called him today. Just now you started remembering all the things he's done to you.

"That doesn't make it hurt less, does it?" You whipped around, going to the line of fruit trees where you left the two shovels you borrowed from the neighbour.

Matt's hand slightly gripped your elbow, stopping you in your tracks.

"I know that I made a bunch of wrong decisions before I left."

"I've been trying for 6 months to reach you before giving up completely. And you? You've been living the best version of your life anyone could ever imagine."

"That's not true and you know it." Matthew said and you wanted to leave right then, forget this stupid meeting.

"I do not." you hissed, trying to calm down your rising temper.

Matt sighed, not wanting to argue over this. So he made his way to the tree line, picked one shovel from the ground and started digging where he remembered the time capsule was.

You didn't help him dig it up. You were too lost in memories, clinging to the past as you thought of younger version of Matt.

The clang of metal on metal attracted your attention back to him. He grunted as he pulled up the metal box and laid it on the grass.

You ducked low next to him, dusting off the dirt of the box. It was an old, weirdly dented thing.  Your eyes laid on the lock and you nearly sighed in annoyance just when Matt grabbed at his necklace, the key dangling from it. When you two buried the capsule, each of you got a key made for it. You had yours somewhere in the boxes that had already been shipped to your new apartment and Matt's... he didn't forget. He kept it through the years, guarding it and not losing it as you expected.

You didn't say anything, just patiently waited for him to open the box.

There was a letter inside, along with a bunch of things you thought of as long forgotten. Your bracelets of friendship, the colors faded already; a puck with which you and Matthew played your first hockey game together when you were six; so many polaroid photos with your faces on them; USB with a playlist you two always danced to.

Your eyes watered - how were you supposed to say goodbye to all of this?

Silently, you looked over all of the photos - you and Matt in the rink with small hockey sticks and skates, you and Matt sticking out your tongues colored blue with slushies, you and Matt, you and Matt, you and Matt...

Then Matthew's hand found yours, your fingers automatically intertwining with his. You started crying, first silently but then the sobs shook with your whole body.

"Come here," he murmured, hugging you. His body was so soft and warm, as if begging you to lean into his touch.

"How- how could you leave this all behind?" you mumbled between the sobs.

"It's not leaving if you don't say goodbye." Matt said, his fingers playing with yours.

"Then you are a fucking coward, Matthew."

Silence. He didn't argue with you on that, so you must have been right.

You stopped crying after a while, checking your watch while wiping your nose.

Shit. It was so late already - you had to call an uber to get you to the airport in the next hour or you'd be super late.

"I'll have to go," you said quietly, but Matt interrupted you.

"You are right," he tucked on the edge of his shirt, clearly nervous. He was nervous. "I was a coward. I thought that if I didn't say goodbye to you as I left, it'd hurt less. I was wrong and I was a fucking coward for not picking up your calls or replying to your messages because it would make it so real - that I was leaving and probably never coming back. But I want to make it all right again, I want to be a part of your life - if you will let me."

You thought about his offer and still, you couldn't answer. You weren't sure about letting him into your heart just for him to storm out again without a goodbye, leaving you behind, broken.

"Can I at least take you to the airport?" To that, you nodded, picking up the time capsule, putting all the items back in. Then you gave back the lent shovels to your neighbour and with a last glance at your house, you got into Matt's car.

...

On the way to the airport Matt played the playlist from the USB that was in the time capsule and the nostalgy hit you hard.

You remembered the lyrics, the melody; you remembered everything.

The drive was too short and you started panicking as the engine stopped.

Matthew helped you with your suitcase and went inside with you. The two of you stopped at the first gate.

"Here," he said, giving you a piece of paper. "It's my adress. Hopefully, you won't live so far away, so we could meet there if you wanted to."

You tucked it in your pocket without a word.

"Also, take this. I wrote it in ninth grade so don't think much of it. But I want you to read it, Y/N."

It was the letter from the time capsule, with your name on the blank envelope.

"I will." you promised.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward this time.

"I'll let you know my decision about what you said earlier. I just... I need some time."

Matt noded, giving you the space you so desperately needed.

"So, until we meet again - goodbye, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Matt."

...

The plane took off and you finally had the time to read the letter he gave you.

You immediately recognised his scrambled handwriting and you smiled at how messy it was before you started reading.

Dear Y/N,

I'm writing this in case I leave. Dad has been telling me for some time already that if I'll get drafted, I'll have to leave. He also said that if I'll be smart, I will never look back at my past.

I don't want you to be my past. I want you to be my present and my future.

He said I'll meet a lot of girls but I know that none of them is going to be like you.

So, I promise you, I will never say goodbye to you.

I love you,

Matt

With trembling fingers, you pulled out your phone, the tears already staining the screen.

That's why he never said goodbye. Because of this stupid letter and his stupid promise.

The phone rang once before he picked it up.

"Y/N? What is it?"

A ragged breath escaped you and you laughed and cried at the same time.

"I don't want you to be my past. I want you to be my present and my future."

"Oh, that was cheesy, wasn't it-"

"No, you dumbass. That's my answer."

[buckyownsmylife]

Don't Breathe - Chris Evans smut

The one where your best friend and your boyfriend are fucking behind your back.

Warnings: smut, cheating, chris x your best friend, humiliation?, chris is an asshole in this, exhibitionism, the betrayal is real

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: this is sort of a companion piece to breathe, hence the same picture. While that one explores the extremes of loyalty, this one explores the extremes of betrayal. I also couldn't bring myself to create another moodboard. I wrote this story in one sitting, in the last anxiety episode I had and it helped me get to the place I am today - a better place than I was before, so while I'm grateful for it, I'm only publishing this to give myself some closure. I haven't edited it. I haven't asked anyone to beta read it for me because I simply can't look at it anymore. But it might help some of you, and it might even arouse some others (yes, there are people who have cheating kinks. Let's all be grown-ups and accept that sexuality is a complex and difficult thing. I won't accept kinkshaming in this blog). I only ask that you do not ask me about this story, how it came to be or any sort of part two's because I literally can't stand to look at it. Thanks, you guys!

“Bitch really has no idea, huh?” Chris chuckled as he welcomed his mistress on his lap, licking his lip at the sight of the voluptuous body on top of his. He’d been dreaming about it for a while now, imagining it was her he was fucking when she was away and he had to fuck his girlfriend.

“Not a clue.” He was a bastard, he knew it. He was a son of a bitch, a good for nothing. He didn’t deserve to ever be happy again, not after this, but he couldn’t come to regret it. Not when your best friend was rubbing her cunt against his dick so sensuously, tempting him with her full pout and big breasts.

“She’s always been dumb,” she commented, like she wasn’t speaking about the woman she claimed to love more than anything in the world. Maybe that should have worried Chris, but for whatever reason, it just made him harder.

He really wasn’t worth shit.

“Can’t even figure out that every time we disappear at a party, I’m really just sucking your dick.” Chris chuckled as he buried his thumb on her mouth, chuckle turning into a groan as the beautiful woman twirled her tongue around his digit.

“I mean, this was how it started, wasn’t it, baby?” He reminded her. “You ditched her in the middle of the club to meet me in the bathroom and offer some help with the package I’d been hiding in my pants… Didn’t even have the time to doubt it before you were dropping to your knees and crawling towards me.”

The little vixen smirked at the memory, face suddenly lighting up as she let go of my dick to get out of bed. “Hey!” He complained, still smiling because he could see she was up to no good. “Where are you going?”

She had my phone in her hands when she climbed back to bed, a perfectly plucked eyebrow high in her forehead as she typed away in it. He’d never let you learn the password but what could he possibly hide from his mistress?

“Call her.” It wasn’t as much a request as it was a statement, since when she threw the phone on his chest, it was already ringing. A panicked look broke free on his face before he shook his head, smirking at her insanity.

Goddamn it if it didn’t make him harder than he’d ever been before.

“Hello?” Your sweet voice was the perfect dichotomy to the act he was partaking in, and he had to bite his lip so you wouldn’t figure out what was happening as your best friend leaned over his cock to take it in her mouth.

“Hey, honey,” Chris greeted, trying to keep his voice as smooth as possible. He could totally do this. He was an actor, after all.

“Is something wrong?” You questioned, and for a second both him and your friend froze, fearing you’d heard something. “You just left, I figured you wouldn’t call me until tomorrow.”

Chris chuckled lightly at your innocence - and the clear happiness you felt at him deciding to call so soon. He already knew what to say to plunge the knife even deeper into you.

“Oh, you know…” He trailed off, biting his lip again as your best friend swallowed his cock. “Just missed you.” He didn’t miss the smirk on her eyes. She didn’t need to speak or even stop sucking him for him to know that she was enjoying this, so he kept going, entertaining you with mindless conversation until you remembered you actually had to call her.

“Oh, I promised I’d call her… We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” You assured him, blissfully unaware of the betrayal you were suffering. “Bye, baby. I love you.” You disconnected the call before he could even lie about that too, but a few minutes later her phone began ringing.

She was still giggling when she picked up, now having stopped sucking him to rub her tight wet cunt against him again, teasing them both. “Bitch, you’ll never guess,” she greeted as soon as you said hello, and just as you asked what was up, she lowered herself down on Chris’ cock.

Your man’s cock. While she was talking to you. “I’m fucking someone right at this second.” He could hear your stunned silence, but you knew your friend had always been crazy - especially sexually.

It was the difference between the two of you that made him so obsessed.

“And he doesn’t mind?” You asked, clearly surprised, and Chris almost laughed when your best friend answered, “Oh, no. He gets off on it. Would you mind staying in line and listening for a bit? He’d really enjoy it.”

You hesitated only for a moment before agreeing, and that’s when she allowed herself to moan out loud. “God, what a fucking dick!” She cursed, fingernails gripping his pecks as she rode him for dear life. “I swear to god, you have no idea how it feels like to be fucked like this.”

You remained silent. Chris could almost picture it, the way you had one fingernail in your mouth, chewing on it as you tried to decide between keeping your promise and listening to your best friend fucking (your) man or leaving the phone on and going to do the laundry.

You were such a perfect girlfriend. So devoted, everything Chris should marry. His family loved you - hell, he thought he loved you. And here he was, fucking your best friend while you listened to her moans of pleasure.

He felt her eyes trailing down his body and he already knew what she wanted. They were a perfect match in bed. He manhandled her onto her stomach, knowing you were listening to her surprised scream and loud moan as he penetrated her from behind.

“So, so good…” She moaned. Chris had no doubt her eyes were rolling to the back of her head. “Would you ever stop fucking me, baby?” She teased, making Chris chuckle, knowing the sounds of his hips slapping against her full ass were drowning his voice from you. “Would you ever stop fucking my tight little pussy?”

He leaned over her, body completely enclosing hers in bed when he gripped her jaw to whisper in her ear. “Not a chance in hell.” Her delighted moan made it all worthy to him. He pulled out of her to turn her around once more, spreading her legs so he could have a taste of her pussy.

Eyes connected, he watched her reach for the phone and take it off the speaker so she could talk to you properly. “This guy eats pussy like a pro,” she informed you while Chris grinned between her legs, her fingers tangled in the strands of your boyfriend’s hair. “And he tells me it’s the best pussy he has ever had, don’t you, baby?”

Chris could only nod, obsessed with the taste of her sweet pussy on his tongue, the loud sounds of slurping undoubtedly reaching you. He could only imagine how you were feeling, confused and maybe a little bit aroused. It was like sound porn, after all - and it was starred by your very own boyfriend, but you had no idea.

He hummed against her pussy. You could never taste as sweet, try as you might. Even her painted lips tasted better, and he knew it wasn’t because of the lipstick she wore since you two often shared.

She moaned loudly when he shoved two fingers inside of her, having memorized her sweet spot ages ago, when this still made him feel bad and he’d often hurl when he got home to find you in bed, waiting for him.

And yet, he couldn’t stop. He waited for her to turn off the call so he could climb back up her body, kissing every inch of the way until he was buried deep inside her tight pussy again.

“You make me crazy,” he whispered, knowing this would never be enough. He would never get his fill of her. He might love you in one way or another, but he wanted her, and he would never let her go.

[jiminrings]

last chronological part for stem koo... WHEW I WATCHED THEM GROW WHAT’S GONNA HAPPEN NOW

cold senior!y/n x stem major koo masterlist :D

they finally become lunchbox lovers

“you’re asking me what’s jungkook like?”

jimin couldn't be any more surprised

first of all, his day started with yOU texting him and asking if you can drop by for a second, and the moment he texted "sure???", you're literally already knocking on the door

and second, you're asking him???

“oh come on. he clings to you with every chance he gets. i thought you gave him a chance already.”

your eyes only deadpan that jimin actually gets the hint, his mouth curling in a eureka moment that he managed to figure out himself without you talking

“oH! so that’s why you’re asking me because you’re thinking of giving him an actual chance.”

alright finally

you slump in relief over not saying it out loud, expressing the slightest bit of worry you have to someone (that's not as close to you like yoongi and jin are) who'd get where you're coming from without bias

“i just wanna know how he usually is when he’s not on my heels.”

“honestly? the same. probably even a bit more clingier.”

jimin wastes no time in ratting jungkook out, even leaning back to the couch with how relaxed he is

“talks about you too. i’m sorry y/n but even i know what shampoo you use!!!”

jimins knows your wHAT

"my shampoo???"

“mhmm. made me drive him to a grocery store at 10 in the evening so he can individually smell all the shampoos without anyone calling him a creep or something like that,” he nods earnestly and doesn't look like he's playing with you or the sort

you're quite frozen and jungkook's roommate isn't at all fazed and is even pulling up pICTURES of their impromptu grocery trip

“he even made it in a scientific paper format. with the hypothesis and conclusion and everything.”

he points it out just in time when you swipe to jimin's hand holding a printed piece of paper with the document in the monitor right behind it, the next pictures being blurry because that's when jungkook freaked out

jimin gets his phone back but not without sending you the pictures you just saw even if you didn't ask for them, trying to hide the amusement in your eyes when you decide to scroll through them again later

“cut him some slack though. he’s never really had a girlfriend, y’know? or like even a crush. he’s just navigating it with his instincts and all the advice he gets.”

hold on a second

“... advice?”

he thought you'd never ask (he'll still say it even if you don't) which is why he brightly grins, hunching over as if to let you in on a guarded secret

“i’m one of his consultants!!! didn’t suggest the shampoo part though.”

who could have possibly thought of that idea then ://

you hum in faux complacency, trying to get this as fast as possible so you could make up your mind quicker

“what else?”

jimin's relaxed now that he's had a proper laugh with you and realized you aren't as Intimidating As He Thought You Were, recounting the things in his mind like a to-do list

“he’s sickeningly kind.”

the gravity of his words strike him before they do with you, straightening his posture to clear up the air right away, “but i knoW that what he did to you is the furthest thing from kind, and trust me, i really got that point across!!!”

by point, jimin means cooking him burnt meals and jungkook having to endure it because he doesn't like wasting food

additionally, that also meant jimin served kook a cRISP smack on the back of his boba ball head into next week

look at him <3 seokjin, yoongi AND jimin gave him shit!!! now isn;t that teamwork

you're unable to paint the mental image in your head because he continues, grabbing your attention once again

“but apart from that, jungkook could just be too kind for his own sake,” he says sincerely. “he’s like the kid the principal refers to in elementary when they talk about peer pressure!!!”

your first instinct is to snort at that, the mental image definitely forming in your head now

is it just sO bad that you and jimin agree on this

“jokes aside, jungkook’s really genuine.”

it's the last thing jimin wraps it off with when you stand from the couch, cheeks still a little warm when he trails you behind the door

you're just about to thank him when the door in front of you opens and almost hits you in the process, the person behind it just as alarmed

jungkook’s just now coming home because he had to pick up some last-minute groceries from the convenience store downstairs that jimin forgot from his last run, clearly startled to why would wou be here

"oH???? y/n??? what are you doing here???"

his pupils are shaking between the two of you and he's not even trying to hide is incoming panic

“.... a-are you and jimin-“

“yup! sorry bud! we were just-...” jimin's attempt at a lighthearted joke is halted as fast as it was introduced, getting a smack on the middle of his back that makes him wince

“you’re annoying, jimin."

oOOOOH you just put your palm on him!! yea at this rate he's gonna be your best friend too won't he

jungkook's processing things as fast as he could, getting a reassuring glance from you that puts him at ease

“we were just talking, kook.”

he nods even if he's still a tiny bit unsure, calling for you when you're on your way out the door

“a-about what though?”

:-)

“you’d know soon enough.”

( ♡ )

“you wanna tell me now why we went on this drive?”

seokjin yawns at a stoplight even when his car is the only one waiting on the intersection right now, not in the mood for a ticket with a printed traffic light picture of him mid-yawn in his matching pajamas anytime soon

“no reason," you sing-song and it makes him snort, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “couldn’t sleep."

“well that makes one of us.”

you've unabashedly knocked on jin's door and even if it took you two tries, he still answered nonetheless, not even asking for an explanation why before he sleepily took his keys and grabbed his house slippers for shoes

you had no destination in mind at 3 in the morning which is why jin’s just driving for no rhyme nor direction and is just going with his brain’s one-second impulses of where to turn

he’s game for anything, actually — that much you know

although you do know that jin literally wouldn't do this for anyone else besides the people he find worth all this (aka everyone except you and yoongi and ok maybe namjoon sometimes)

the drive is beyond serene and even with repetitive radio music playing in the background, you don't actually mind it

when you're with jin, it just feels like you're in a constant bubble of comfort and ease that you always try to look for in everything

he doesn't necessarily need explanations,, he just deduces from things at face-value and later ask about it when you're comfortable enough to share

jin points at a drive-thru he suddenly had a craving for as you were about to suggest it anyway

you're not even quite sure why there's a line but neither of you complain, the situation more than bearable that a little waiting wouldn't dampen your mood

the words you've been thinking of the whole day finally slip across the silence, as casual yet as sincere as they could be

“i’m really thankful that you’re in my life, jin. you know that right?”

he seems pleasantly surprised when you look at his side profile, shaking his head

“mhmm. you only tell me a couple times but you put your knee on top of mine everyday,” he chuckles at the habit of yours and he kNOWS for a fact you would put your knee on top of his if only he wasn't behind the wheel. “tell me all about it, kid.”

it's genuine laughter that encompasses the whole car, his chuckles suddenly ceasing when he realizes another possibility

“you’re not asking me for allowance, are you? because yoongi’s already bugging me for his next month’s.”

wait what

“you give yoongi an allowance???”

“you didn’t know???”

:///

“... i’m not asking for an allowance.”

“..... but do you want it,.,..”

jin sees you pursing your lips and intentionally looking at everywhere but him, already getting his answer

“fine. that’s the furthest you two could get from me!! don’t expect me to pack your lunchboxes to school now. you must be crazy.”

jin, in fact, packs you and yoongi lunchboxes more often than not

jin, aLSO, does all the paper rolling for you so when the three of u get occasionally high, it’s all nice and tight

jin is also the one who does all the talking on the phone to customer service when neither of you are willing

he asks the moment he relays your usual midnight snack slash early breakfast order he's already memorized to the attendant, patiently looking at you

“you want anything else with that?”

“i’m all good.”

it's in between cars and stoplights that the car is filled with more emotion again, acting on it when you realize it when seokjin's mid-bite on his hashbrowns

“jin?”

“yes?” he speaks muffled, looking at you once before bringing his attention back on the changing stoplight

“love you.”

he feels himself still for a second even if his foot's on the gas and one hand is on the wheel, a somber look on his face that he later smiles sincerely

“love you too, kid.”

( ♡ )

“it’s not my birthday if that’s what you’re thinking.”

yoongi sleepily mumbles the moment he feels his bed dipping, his side that was once holding a pillow now being occupied by you

“i know.”

you wedge yourself between his heavy comforter, tossing and turning until it feels comfortable

“but i actually don’t know your birthday lol it’s-...”

“fuck right off.”

yoongi doesn't question why you're in his bed, because the last time you did, it was because you were left traumatized after seeing a genuinely good horror movie that it was pending to give you nightmares

he didn't see you watch any movie today though, but he'll take you in nonetheless

“kidding.”

you offer in consolation because yoongi's birthday is in your calendar even if you know it by heart, a mindless hum in reply

it's when you drop your arm on his waist like it's dead weight and relax completely, your face near to his mop of hair that it's making him think you're actually cuddling him rn

quick how can he get a picture of this to get this framed

“are you telling me now?”

he questions with his eyes half-open, shimmying backwards so that you're able to hug him more comfortably

“my airconditioner’s busted.”

“mhmm. give me ten minutes. i’ll fix it for you.”

it's 4 am and if your airconditioner really was busted, you wouldn't have let it stay busted for that long

“don’t. it’s okay. i wanna be here anyways.”

both you and yoongi know that your airconditioner’s in tip-top shape and is actually the one that blows the coldest air in the dorm

sometimes you think he’s an angel in disguise because there’s no way you deserve a human best friend like him

“yoongs?”

“hmm?” he hums before he falls asleep again, trying to keep up while having his eyes closed so he could listen to you

“you know that i’m really glad you’re in my life, right?”

oh

:)

“mhmm. you don’t say, sweets," he teasingly chuckles, feeling his ribcage rise in amusement under your arm

“fuck-“

“yeah, i know. i do, because you put me as your family member in your emergency contacts, but you don’t know that i know that.”

... oh

you don't even know how yoongi came to know but you don't question it, the warmth in your heart doubling

“love you.”

“love you too, y/n.”

( ♡ )

jungkook’s the most nervous he’s been in awhile

and that’s coming from him who sees yoongi in almost a daily basis

after all, jin did tell him you can be quite forgetful becasue you tend to take care of things all at once

he’ll sTILL try to be as smooth and casual as much as possible though

“big game tomorrow huh?”

and by big game that means as in your last qualifying game to whether or not your team would compete in the yearly (not to mention prestigious) soccer tournament

you chuckle at the thought because by now, you should already be sleeping and getting some rest even if it’s just seven in the evening

but you’re here <3 out at a park near jungkook’s dorm, sharing hand warmers <3

“yeah. it’s a make or break match.”

“i actually haven’t seen you play before, y’know," jungkook silently admits, looking down on his shoes as he thinks if he's just offended you

“really?” you ask in genuine curiosity, “then how come you interviewed me for your little survey when you haven’t watched me play before?”

oh

tHAT

“i uh, i actually just really wanted to talk to you that day. i-i don’t normally approach people first, but you just looked warm enough for me to reach out first.”

he's babbling before he even knows it, oblivious the growing smile on your face

“then i asked jimin because he kNOWS everything, and it was all in good fate that it turned out you were the soccer captain!! i was excited because i had a legitimate reason to talk to you that day.”

so that’s why

he wanted to talk to you even before his lunchboxes were taken out of the situation!!!

“how about me? why was it me?”

ahem

you're not trying to be funny but you can't help but chuckle, scratching the back of your ear in thought

“i honestly couldn’t tell either, jungkook.”

he almost coughs in shock, masking it off with playing it off for the bite of the chill of the night

“all i know is that something told me it was you,” you timidly add, looking down on your hands. “and i went for it.”

right can he chalk up mad blushing to the night air

he fiddles with the drawstrings of his sweatpants this time, his eye contact with you becoming fidgety

“big game tomorrow,” he repeats and you're just about to tell him that your conversation sounds like it's gonna be repeated

“don’t forget your eyedrops, alright?”

....

was that smooth enough

“eyedrops?”

yeah

uhm

that was... random

“oh right! you gave them back to me.”

“yeah. you should open it tonight, probably. to see if it’s already all-evaporated, y’know? if it is, then let me know tomorrow so i can buy you new ones.”

“highly doubt that they would, but alright, kook.”

you take the little banter to be your cue to walk back to your dorm, about to say goodbye to him when he makes an audible sound of confusion

it confuses you even more when he's trailing behind you

“your dorm’s twenty feet away from where we are, jungkook.”

“y-yeah i know that!! i’m walking you home, silly.”

right!!

hee-hee

he’s keeping his hands to himself even if he BADLY wants to hold your hand or even your forearm but he has to resist that urge rn

but he does intentionally brush shoulders with you and mumble “pothole.” so he could nUDGE you to the side even if there aren’t any to begin with

silence with jungkook now is comfortable as it has been for more than awhile, the walk passing by faster that you almost wish you walked slower

goddamn it he should've said there was a pothole atleast ten more times to make the walk longer

“goodnight, koo.”

“goodnight, y/n.”

there’s obviously no goodnight kiss but he dOES get a squeeze on his bicep

you take your time when you come home — to unwind as much as you could before you stress yourself out tomorrow

your shower routine may have took a little longer this time but it makes you get dressed as quick as you could when your eyes see the origami box you've been putting off from opening, one that jungkook just told you to open, because as far as you knew they were just EYEDROPS!!!

... the supposed bottle of eyedrops that’s too well-packaged and clearly thought-out

an origami box, a carebear heart initial drawstring pouch AND a plain ziplock baggie as if the other two weren’t enough

it’s when you open the box within the ziplock bag that you feel it’s definitely not as light as a bottle of eyedrops would be

there’s a very visible dent weighing down on the pouch (that’s within the origami box) that’s cLEARLY not your eyedrops

you’re actually nervous to the point that you just open unfurl it with your eyes closed, feeling two items in there

the plastic bottle of eyedrops, and definitely the cool surface of what feels like

a bracelet?

it’s a pretty straightforward yet timelessly elegant silver link bracelet, equipped with a couple options for how tight or loose you want to wear it

it hits you all at once and god does it just render you speechless

jungkook has this bracelet too.

you’re quite speechless and in between looking at it up-close to avoiding looking at it at all, trying to calm your breathing by focusing on the eyedrops instead

the said eyedrops you've been so used to seeing that you immediately sense that there's something oFF with the label???

its stuck-on, that's for sure, but something about it is not as seamless and stationary and official as it should be

it's almost as if there's something snuck inside it and-

...

..... there is

it's scotch tape that's just as thin as the actual label of the bottle itself, having to peel the whole label in order to see it in entirety

it's the same double-sided label jungkook worked so hard to peel flawlessly so he could try and replicate it in the same exact design and measurements, having to even take it up to a classmate from stem he once knew that transferred to graphic design

(yeonjun did ask for a science paper in exchange for his replication of the eyedrops slash adhesive label because who fucking kNEW he still had science even when in graphic design, but jungkook thinks it's fair trade so it's worth it)

it's the same exact label jungkook's had for a month and only recently gave it to you a week ago, a truth he's long since known

it's the same exact label that reads —

i love you

— in his handwriting you've come to known by heart, the label in your hand feeling much more heavy than the bracelet in the other

you already know what to do.

.

.

.

it's game day and u are about to launch yourself into orbit if you hear oNE more drum cheer because it just makes you nervous even more

yeah SURE it makes you pumped when it's the actual game itself but not now!!! not now when you're pumping yourself with electrolytes and at the risk of peeing from nervousness and too much hydration

you haven't seen seokjin nor yoongi yet and as much as that lessens the pressure on you, that alsO makes you nervous because they're your emotional support people!!!! where r they

usually you would see them in the front row of the bleachers and neither of them have any snacks because all of their focus would be on you

jin is nOT mr. kim from student affairs when it comes to your games,,, nuh-uh sir,,, he's that guy from the other team that glares so hard it dISTRACTS me from scoring in the perspective of the opposing team

coach's about to whistle like five minutes from now for a final huddle and everyone's getting their final stretches in

you're too busy looking for people that you actually want to be here that you're taken off-guard when one of them grasps at your forearm, a breathless smile one his face

"give them hell out there, alright. you're a champ."

it's jungkook!!!

IT'S JUNGKOOK!!!!@&$&":@:"$

he looks especially handsome today that you just short-circuit immediately

he's wearing a shirt with your team colors on it aND!!!

he ditched his glasses today to wear contacts, not only because he wanted to look a bit more different and special today, but because he's also scared that a ball would be thrown in his direction and injure him with the additional impact of his glasses

his hair's pushed back with his forehead showing instead of his usual hairstyle and god is it making you a little dizzy

he's beaming at you and his eyes immediately wander to your wrist, not expecting the feeling in his gut next

you're not wearing the bracelet.

jungkook feels the sudden urge to cry even when in public but it's when you grip at his forearm tightly that he stays still, squeaking when you realize his line of thought

"can't wear any jewelry on the field. i-i'm wearing your bracelet as an anklet for the meantime, it's underneath my sock."

...

....

...... oh my god

jungkook's never felt this frozen and euphoric at the same time, sputtering over nothing when your face looks like the furthest thing from joking

you're about to excuse yourself suddenly when your eyes finally take notice what's thrown on his shoulder, something about it being so familiar that it throws you off for awhile

"is that my jersey?"

he nods eagerly to your query, proudly unfolding it for you to see your spare soccer jersey with your surname and number right on it, the exact marks being the same from when you tried to use a laundry pen on it

he didn't get it replicated???

"h-how did you get that? where did you get that?"

jungkook thought you'd never ask, the words he never thought he'd say already leaving his lips

"yoongi gave it to me."

you only have a handful of jerseys on-hand and even if you could always request for more, the ones you have at home are a little more sentimental

you gave jin and yoongs one each from the only several ones you had, and you know yoongi would not give up his for jungkook

but now, you do know that he snuck to your closet and took one to give it to jungkook willingly, trusting him enough to give it to you behind your back

kook's sTILL not fully-forgiven but they're getting there sooner or later

wait why is this making you cry

before you know it, you're pushing yourself to jungkook to hug him tightly, the boy being surprised for a second but ultimately reciprocating once it registers

"i love you too."

.

.

.

.

.

this is the last chronological update for stem koo aka lunchbox lovers!! however, this is not the end of them!! with the end of this chronological series, this means that all the future updates don't necessarily have to be linked — they're miscellaneous and don't have to follow a specific layout like this part of their arc.

with that said, feel free to send in asks on what you want to see from the lunchbox lovers (misc. requests, questions, and everything in between) and i'd love to fulfill them because after all, this series was born purely out of your ideas <3 also pls send in ur thoughts and feedback and love because i have da greatest time reading through all of them!! thank you for all the love for da stem koo universe <3

[skellebonez]

Why Worry At All?

I had so much trouble writing certain parts of this out for some reason, which makes no sense to me because I chose to write this on my own without a prompt. But I finally nailed out the in between parts that were giving me trouble! So... Billy Kametz can sing, huh?

Xiaotian knew what they were hearing. They knew it!

They'd heard Xiaojiao before and she wasn't that deep. They'd never heard Sandy but he had to sound much deeper if he could. Tang and Pigsy were out of the question, Tang couldn’t hold a tune to save his life and Pigsy never did more than hum at a much different octave. It couldn't have been Wukong, he'd still been asleep from overexerting himself in their last fight.

So that only left Macaque as the one who could have been singing outside the med bay door.

“But then I guess we know there’s blame to share... and none of it seems to matter anymore...”

It was such a soft tune, something that Xiaotian barely recognized from a video online he watched long ago. Maybe something Xiaojiao had shown him. Something soft and gentle, which made no sense given the possible culprit. Or the fact he heard it being sing just outside his mentor’s room while he was checking on him. But he was hearing it through the door nonetheless. Almost whisper like in how soft it was, it was too weak to have been heard belted from a distance, and muttered almost a bit off tune. That only left it being from someone right outside the door. But why not just come inside?

Unless the singer, who again Xiaotian was certain was Macaque, didn’t want anyone- even Sun Wukong- to know it was them who was singing and they didn’t realize that anyone was in the room with the power drained immortal.

So, like anyone who heard a mysterious singing voice would do, they pulled out their phone and started recording.

The song only lasted for another few seconds before silence, and then the almost deafening in comparison sound of running footsteps.

And as Xiaotian looked down at the recording on the phone, less than even 20 seconds in length, they were struck by a realization.

“... I can use this.”

~

“Well well well,” Macaque said with a chuckle, turning to face the person who joined him on the deck of the self piloting drone ship. Just where they knew he would be at this hour of the morning. “Didn’t take you for a morning person, kid.”

“I’m not,” Xiaotian grumbled, hair down and unkempt and clearly barely brushed just to keep it out of their face. "But I wanted to check on Wukong after what happened yesterday.”

This made the other’s fur stand up and his tail tense, though whether this was because he realized what Xiaotian meant or of it brought his mind back to the fight of the day prior they couldn’t tell. The fight that, for some reason, Macaque left himself vulnerable during. That left him wiped out and barely able to move out of the way of an oncoming attack. That make Sun Wukong rush in and save him much to the surprise of everyone involved, Macaque himself included.

The fight that Xiaotian was beginning to think was going to change a lot more than just knowing the de-powered duo’s limits.

“You’re going to be honest with me for once.” they proposed, joining the immortal monkey at the guard railing he casually leaned against.

“What makes you think I’m going tell you anything?” Macaque asked, chuckling boastfully and smirking that damn smug smirk he’d been wearing almost every minute since he had been taken onto the ship.

The longer Xiaotian saw it the faker it seemed to be.

“Oh, I dunno... maybe this?” They rebutted, pulling out their phone and hitting play on the open audio file they had pulled up long before the conversation, and they watched with their own smirk as a look of surprise and then horror and then something akin to “resigned but impressed” flashed on the ancient demon’s face.

After hearing the other speak there was no doubt that the two voices were identical now.

“Qi Xiaotian,” Macaque said, an almost cat like smirk gracing his face. This one seemed slightly more honest than the last one. “I didn’t take you for a blackmailer. Maybe I did have an influence on you after all.”

“Why were you singing this outside Wukong’s room?” Xiaotian asked, not in the mood for playing the other’s games this early in the morning. “Why were you trying to hide it? Why did you not realize I was in there? And...” He gestured to his phone, the soft gentle sounds of an almost uncharacteristically sweet song playing through his speakers. “What the hell is this song!?”

“Alright alright,” Macaque said, holding up his hands before he leaned forward on the railing. “No need to give the the third degree, great hero. It’s just a song I heard online.”

“You know how to use the internet?”

Turning his head, Macaque leveled the other with a very over exaggerated wilting gaze of disbelief. “I am honestly offended you’d think I wouldn’t learn how to.”

The tone of voice he had did not give the impression that Macaque even gave a shit, but Xiaotian muttered an apology regardless, to which the other simply laughed at.

“There’s this guy... Bill something? Kinds sounds like me, you know. Found him by chance one day and just kinda looked for all his songs and memorized them a long time ago out of boredom.” He shrugged, a distant far off look on his face. “Almost considered just being a copy cat voice for him once, way before I found out where our great King was, but I never followed through with that. Shame, though, knowing I’m on par with Broadway. Probably could have snagged a pretty decent amount of yuan from desperate fans. Don’t really have much use for money, though so eh.”

He shrugged, and for once he sounded... honest. Just honest.

“I wasn’t really trying to hide it, not from you anyway. Just... didn’t wanna deal with Wukong waking up and hearing me sing for the first time after. Ya know.” He waved his hand with another shrug. “History and all that. It was just a moment I had with myself, nothing more.”

Xiaotian took particular note that he avoided one particular question.

“You’re awful open about all this stuff,” the Monkie Kid mused, the two of them watching the horizon slowly move under the drone ship as the sun rise continued. Everyone else would be getting up soon enough. “Even for blackmail.”

“It’s not really effective blackmail,” Macaque admitted after a moment, tail lazily swishing behind him. “Not content wise, anyway. I was bound to be heard eventually no matter how much I hid. Think of this as more a... reward for you being able to catch me unaware. Take a lot of skill to do that with my ears.”

“I know most of your powers are gone too,” Xiaotian said bluntly, dropping the real piece of information he was here to hold over the other’s head out in the open, and that got Macaque to freeze instantly. “Not like ours are but... I dunno. I didn’t really think that far ahead. But if you still had most of them we wouldn’t be talking right now. You ran away instead of just whooshing into the shadows I know were in the hall. You’ve been wearing earplugs since we let you stay, I saw Sandy give them to you and you’re even wearing them right now, but even with your hearing dulled you would have been able to know I was in that room. You’ve been walking through doors instead of just vanishing. I don’t think I’d seem you walk through one except for at the shadow play before last week, and that was obviously to get my attention. I don’t think I’ve seen you make a clone or transform either, or manipulate a single shadow. Why not flaunt your powers over us, knowing we don’t have ours since you’ve made a point to annoy us about our lost abilities, unless you don’t have yours too?”

The elder said nothing, only growled and glowered out at the horizon before letting out a deep sigh.

“You really are a good kid,” he said with a humorless chuckle. “Smart, too, when actually you put your mind to stuff. But you’re only half right.”

“What do you mean?” Xiaotian asked in shock, amazed that the other was even still admitting to anything point blank at this point.

“I still have all my powers, it’s just... Not a good idea for me to use them too much,” he said vaguely, shrugging his shoulders and turning to walk away from the young man in a way that clearly indicated this line of conversation was over with. “I know you can keep a secret, kid, so do me a favor. Keep quiet about this.”

That same humorless chuckle, the one the young man now realized was more common from the demon’s mouth than not, sounded as he stepped into the forming shadows of the driver’s post from the rising sun and seemed to fall and melt into the floor in an instant.

Xiaotian couldn’t help the flinch that ran through their body at the implications of that final sentence. His training of Xiaotian. The second meeting. The Calabash.

The White Bone Spirit...

“Asshole,” Xiaotian muttered under their breathe, taking the door instead.

~

The very first thing Xiaotian was greeted with when they entered the communal kitchen was low and muttered but still the less than whispered tune of a song by a pop punk bank from overseas.

“Why do we worry at aaaaall,” Macaque sang just loud enough for everyone around him to hear, the baffled and in some cased impressed faces of everyone (barring the presumably still resting Wukong) looking in his direction as he seemingly ignored them to prepare his own fruit based breakfast. “Why, just tell me why do we worry? When worries never happen tell me why, why worry at all?”

When Macaque turned to look at Xiaotian he smirked almost playfully, winking at him.

And the only thing that ran through Xiaotian’s head was “there goes half of my blackmail... asshole.”

Though... when he looked closer...

Macaque seemed oddly tired.

Did he have the dark bags under his eyes during their conversation before?

[dixie12]

i've wanted to write a fic where pat and jonny finally hook up, but pat absolutely panics the next morning and sets off a chain reaction that takes a long time for them to fix. i've been thinking about it for like a year, and i finally wrote a piece of it!

It’s been two weeks since that awful morning, and Pat is ready to put this shit behind them. Yes, he panicked and said some very shitty things to Jonny, but he’d also woken up naked next to his best friend of 14 years, the whole room stinking of sex, condom wrappers strewn among the bed sheets. The panic had been well-deserved, even if the anger and insults hadn’t been. He was trying not to think about the details, even though he definitely remembered more than he’d implied to Jonny. Every time he thought about it, his dick gave a traitorous jerk, reminding Pat that no matter what he’d claimed to Jonny, he’d enjoyed a lot of what they did.

For the first few days, the silence from Jonny was a relief. He had no idea how to broach the subject, and it’s not like there was Buzzfeed articles on the best way to address the gay sex you had with your best friend that you didn’t hate as much as you’d wanted to. Believe him, he’d looked. So he’d let it be for a few days, trusting in Jonny’s maturity to see them through. He waited for Jonny to show up at his place, carrying takeout, sheepish look on his face. Or calling him, maybe pissed, but fiery with it, demanding Pat talk it out with him. Even a text, just to check in, blowing off the whole thing like it had never happened. Something. But days passed, and there was nothing from Jonny.

After a week, Pat finally told himself to nut up and picked up the phone. His call went right to voicemail, though, so either Jonny had his phone off, which was rare, or he’d blocked Pat, which was pretty much unheard of. He figured Jonny was ready to talk about it, yet, but he tried calling again every day, anxiety building as he memorized Jonny’s monotone outgoing voicemail message. No he wouldn’t leave a message, and Jonny obviously wasn’t calling him back at his earliest convenience, no matter what the message claimed.

Pat might have let it go, chalked it up to embarrassment or residual anger on Jonny’s part, but almost two weeks later, he got a text from Seabs.

have u heard from tazer? 

no, y? Pat wrote back.

He wasn’t surprised when his phone rang; Seabs avoided texting whenever possible, always had. “Hey Peeks, how’s your summer?”

“Fine, man. Headed back to Buffalo soon, gonna see the family for a few weeks before ramping up the training back here in Chi. What’s up?”

What he learned from Seabs was that no one- himself, Sharpy, Brinksy, had heard from Jonny since Pat had stormed out of his condo. Not that Seabs knew what had gone down that morning, but the timing fit. 

“I dunno, man, I’m just getting worried. I know the whole Covid thing fucked with him, and I thought he was just getting back to himself, and now all of a sudden he’s shutting everyone out again.” Pat heard the stress in Brent’s voice and couldn’t ignore the guilt that settled in his gut, a vague nausea creeping over him. Brent sighed heavily. “Just, if you hear from him, will you let me know?”

“Yea of course, Seabs. I’m sure he’s just meditating his troubles away or whatever,” Pat said, but it sounded weak even to his own ears.

It was time to take matters into his own hands. If Jonny refused to pick up his phone, Pat was going to plant himself in front of Jonny’s door and knock the damn thing down if he had to. Jonny deserved it, anyway; he had to know the consequences of ignoring Seabs, who was the worst mother hen imaginable. 

Pat needed a plan, though, and that plan included Jonny’s secret weakness: Sadie Sharp. He liked to pretend that he was immune to the Sharp girls, always giving Patrick a hard time when Maddie would give him manicures and beg for piggy back rides, but for some reason, he and Sadie had bonded pretty much right away. She was 7 this summer, and Jonny usually took her out for “adventures” once or twice a month. Pat had seen some pretty adorable pictures of the two of them at the zoo just last month, both of them with their faces painted. Pat had secretly sent himself the pictures from Sharpy’s phone, trying not to examine why.

He collected Sharpy and Sadie and set off for Jonny’s building, parking in the garage before all trooping in together. Pat waved at Elliott, Jonny’s doorman, as he walked towards the elevators, but stopped short when he heard Elliott clear his throat and call out to him.

“Mr. Kane, may I ask who you’re visiting?” He asked, and Pat just stared at him. Elliott hadn’t called him ‘Mr. Kane’ since maybe the second time Pat had met him, agreeing easily when Pat insisted that he call him by his first name. Elliott shifted his weight, obviously uncomfortable and slightly flushed, but he was staring at Pat like he needed an answer. 

“Uh, Jonny…” Pat said, not wanting to be a dick, but not understanding what the fuck Elliott was playing at. If anything, he looked even more distressed now, taking a deep breath before answering, “I need a full name, sir,” and seriously, what was Elliott’s deal?

“Jonathan Toews,” Pat replied. “Tall, Canadian douchebag with a serious stick up his ass, apparently?” he finished, frustration bleeding through his voice despite his best efforts.

“I’m sorry sir, we don’t have a resident by that name. I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises.” Elliott sounded like he was reading off a cue card, and his eyes dipped, no longer holding eye contact with Pat.

“Elliott, I don’t care what he told you,” Pat started, hearing the tremble in his own voice that meant he was close to losing it. His phone started vibrating in his pocket, and he silenced it, but only got a second of quiet before it started again. He ignored it, stalking towards Elliott. “I am going up there to see my idiot of a best friend; I don’t care if you do call the fucking police on me,” and Elliott went pale in front of him.

“Mr. Kane,” he tried again, but he was cut off by a loud “what the fuck!?” from Sharpy, who’d been minding his own business across the lobby, letting Pat fight it out with Elliott.

“Daddy!” Sadie gasped, hands on her cheeks and mouth dropped open in disbelief. Sharpy never swore in front of the girls. As soon as they were born he’d switched to “darn,” and “shoot,” and on one angry, memorable occasion “mother-fudging fudge stick!” No matter how much the guys chirped him for it in the locker room, he was determined that the girls wouldn’t grow up sounding like they were raised in a rink.

Pat whipped his head around to see what had gotten Sharpy’s attention, and saw him with his phone in his hand, trembling slightly.

“Peeks, get the fuck over here,” Sharpy demanded, and Pat went without even thinking. Sharpy shoved his phone into Pat’s face. “Did you know about this??”

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

CONFESSION

Prompt: Y/N is having some trouble with Dexter’s new storyline, and he will have to use all of his tools to make her admit her feelings

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Dexter Lumis x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, dom x sub dynamic, brat taming (slightly), bondage (limb restriction), dirty talk (a shit ton), spanking (light), jealousy

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @moxgirl , @theworldofotps , @galens-mistress , @sassymox , @yungbludjazz360 and the lovely anon (who just like me) is a part of the “Thristy for Lumis” club 😈🤣

Notes: I wanted to “keep it light” with my first fic (hopefully first of many!) with this beautiful blonde man, so here we go. If you’d like to check out my other stories, you can find them on my Masterlist

Yes, I am a little jealous, ok? I’ll confess that to you, but to him? Never!

“Hey babe, I was thinking maybe we should-“ He stopped talking once he realized I was zoned out

“Y/N?” He asked, a little louder “Are you listening?”

“Yes” I spat

“Jeez, are you ok?”

“Peachy, just peachy” I mocked, applying the moisturizer on my skin, which was still damp from my shower

“You’re angry...and you’re angry at me, I presume” I could feel his blue eyes staring at me “What did I do? Did I say something? Do something? Or maybe, it was something I was supposed to do but didn’t?”

In the short amount of time since Dexter and Indi’s storyline started, it already irritated me deeply! I like Indi, she’s nice, funny, a good friend to me and a damn good actress! The way she convinced people that she was actually in love with Dexter was insane. Even I had a little trouble remembering that she isn’t.

But I’m...territorial, I don’t like people trying to get what’s ‘mine’ , so needless to say that the plot vs. reality is starting to get a little blurry for me (although it wasn’t for them)

I love Dexter, and I’m happy for him! I was also happy for Indi, but my brain was having a smidgen of trouble processing it.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N? Peanut...please talk to me?” He sweetly asked

I sighed “You’ve done nothing wrong, Dex. I’m just...it’s me ok? Don’t worry about it”

He sensed my insecurity and crawled to the very end of the mattress, kneeling when he reached the foot of it, staring at my still-standing figure.

Placing both of his hands on my hips, he trailed his nose up my neck and collarbone, saying

“You smell so fucking good” He tried to pull me towards the bed but I declined

“Dex, not right now” I took his hands off my hips and took two steps back

“Not right now?” He tilted his head to the side, in confusion, knowing I never decline to have sex with him “Something is wrong, what is it? What happened?”

“Nothing! I just...I’m not in the mood right now” I said

“You’re not in the mood?” He chuckled, in disbelief “Peanut, you’re ALWAYS in the mood! Fuck, even when I’m not in the mood you get me in the mood! So that excuse will not work for me. Tell me, what’s going on?”

“Dexter, please, not right now, ok? We’ll fuck as much as you want to later, just not now, damn it!” I said, angrily

“I’m not pushing you to talk because I want to fuck you, I’m pushing you to talk because there’s something on your mind, and instead of talking to me, your husband, like a grown woman would, you’re just pushing it to the side like a fucking teenager!” He grabbed my hands, asking “Don’t you trust me?”

I nodded, and he continued “So tell me what’s bothering you! I love you and I wanna help you! But I can’t do it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, peanut”

“I don’t want to say it, because it’s dumb” I murmured

“Baby” He cupped my cheek “If it’s bothering you, it’s not dumb. Tell me, what is it?”

A muffled and inaudible ‘I’m jealous’ left my lips

“I’m afraid you will have to say it a little louder” He cackled

“I wish that storyline with Indi would be over soon” I looked up at him, to find a smug smirk

“You’re jealous?” He asked

“No! I’m not jealous! I don’t get jealous!” I crossed my arms in front of my chest

“Yes, you are!” He teased “I like when you get jealous, that way I know you still have the hots for me” He tried to grab my waist

“Stop it!” I shoved him away “The reason I don’t like the storyline is because you always receive a script with too many lines to memorize and…” I trailed off

“Babe, my character doesn’t talk!” He laughed “You will have to find another excuse for your jealousy”

“Stop saying I’m fucking jealous” I pouted

“Come here, my lil peanut” He beckoned me

“No, I don’t want to”

“Y/N, I said, come.here” His eyes were turning into a cold shade of blue

“And I said, no!” I stomped my foot

Dexter quickly grabbed a handful of my hair, and pulled me towards him

“When I tell you to come here, you better come here, do you understand?” He asked, with an icy tone in his voice

When I didn’t respond, he tugged on my hair harder

“Yes, sir” I said, nonchalantly

“Oh, she’s bratty today, huh?” His other hand wrapped around my neck “I’m sure we can fix that, can’t we?”

Part of me was mad at him for teasing me because of my jealousy but the other part was getting slightly turned on with his attitude. So I decided to test the waters

“Let me go” I yanked his hand off my neck, but Dexter stared at me amused, as he kept his grip firmly on my hair

“You don’t want me to let you go, do you?” He teased

I huffed in response, which made him laugh loudly

“Of course you don’t! You want me to fuck the jealousy out of you, don’t you, baby?”

“I’m not jealous” I tried to wiggle away from him, but that only made him tug on my hair harder

“Y/N, if you wanted me to make the jealousy go away, you just had to ask nicely”

“I don’t want anything from you” I spat

“Na ah” He slapped my face lightly “Don’t you fucking talk to me like that!” He warned “Ask for it nicely, like a good girl” He teased

“Fuck off!” I tried to push him away, but he was faster

Dexter pulled me towards the mattress, I landed on it facing down and he quickly straddled my hips, securing both of my wrists behind my back with one of his hands

“Such a dirty mouth for a pretty girl” He chuckled, dragging his cloth covered bulge against my ass

“You look so cute when you’re all mad like this'' Dexter bit my shoulder and scraped his teeth against my neck “So my lil peanut is jealous, huh?” He cackled “You think Indi will steal me away from you? That’s why you’re so angry?” He took my hair away from my face, so he could look into my eyes

I stared deeply at him, with something in my gaze making his blue eyes soften

“Baby, neither Indi nor anyone else could take me away from you, you’re the woman of my dreams! I don’t want nor need any other woman in my life. The storyline is just that: a storyline, pure fiction. I like Indi the same way that you do, as a friend! She’s never tried to cross that line and if someday she or any other woman crosses it, I know what to do. I love you and I’m more than happy with our marriage. You’re my best friend, my lover, my wife, you take care of me, support me, you’re my everything! My intelligent, sexy, funny and gorgeous everything! Do you understand what I’m telling you, peanut?” He asked softly

“Yes, Dex. I understand” I smiled

“Good, now” His eyes began to get mischievous again “About that attitude...” He trailed off, reaching down to his sweatpants and undoing the drawstring

“I’m sorry for my behavior, sir” I said sheepishly, with my eyes glued to his hand

“Oh, what a drastic change!” He smirked “If I knew that at the mere thought of a dick inside of you, you would change into a good girl so quickly, I would’ve shoved it in you earlier”

Dragging my oversized t-shirt up, Dexter began to slide one finger through my wet folds

“Please, sir” I moaned “I’ll be a good girl, I promise you, just please give it to me” I whined

“Such a greedy little whore for cock, aren’t you?”

I nodded, but that didn’t suffice to him

“Say it! I wanna hear you begging for it, I want you to say the words”

“I’m a greedy little whore for cock, sir. Please, give me your cock, sir. I need it so bad...please, I’ll behave. Can I have it? Please, let me have it” I begged

Dex knelt in between my knees and placed himself on my entrance, sliding only the tip in before he stopped

“You need it? So get it, it’s all yours!” He slapped my ass “C’mon, take it”

I moved back towards his dick, as much as my restricted arms and position would let me, but I couldn’t slide him as deep as I wanted nor could I move as fast as I wished, which made me whine in frustration

“Awww, my poor peanut, what’s wrong? You can’t go as fast as you want to, can you?” He teased and I shook my head

“Do you want me to do it for you instead? Do you want sir to fuck you deep and hard?”

“Yes, sir. Please!”

I gasped loudly when he finally gave me what I was begging for...hard, fast, rough and so deep.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asked

“Yes, thank you, sir”

The familiar burning was already starting to rise inside of me

“Are you gonna cum around my cock like a good little slut, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir” I said, breathlessly

“So what are you waiting for?” He chuckled in my ear, and that was the only confirmation I needed

Dexter slowed his pace as I came down from my high. Noticing he didn’t cum, I asked

“Why didn’t you cum?”

He slid out of me, released my wrists and turned me around, so I could face him

“Who said” He slid back in “I was done with you?” Smirking, he began to increase his pace bit by bit “I still need you to confess that you’re jealous” He winked

And I knew that this little game wouldn't finish until dawn..

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[drabbles-mc]

Stay Put

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Combining 2 Anonymous requests for this: Juice x female reader, where they are in Belfast - and when the barn explodes, reader was one of the ones inside, and got hit a bit in the explosion outside - getting flung a bit, and Juice comes running back because it's her. And she's fighting to get up despite her injury to check he's alright; and there's this small cute moment, before her adrenaline wears off and her injuries prevent her from standing. Maybe a, "well, that was cute", from Happy in his deadpan way & Juice x femreader, possibly a Teller, where, mother like daughter, she insisted going to Belfast with the sons. But, in her case, instead of staying at Ashby's with the girls, she snags a ride to the barn with the boys. She acquires a minor injury in the explosion (maybe pulling Paddy ((Chib's nephew)) of the truck to try and save some folks, and Juice get's really panicky - and it is revealed they're in a relationship

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of blood/injuries

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I didn’t explicitly made the reader a Teller because I didn’t really feel like it would’ve added to the plot of this fic. But pretty much all of this other stuff is in here. Hope you enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

SOA Taglist: @garbinge @masterlistforimagines @adela-topaz-caelon @chibsytelford @mijop @mayans-sauce @shadow-of-wonder @i-just-read-stuff @unicornucopia-fuckers @multiyfandomgirl40 @toni9 @kkim120 @xladymacbethx​ (If you want to be added to my taglist just let me know!)

You’d spent most of the morning going tit-for-tat with the guys. It was a minor miracle that you had gotten to Belfast in the first place. It was all a blur at this point—between the chaos and the jetlag everything was starting to blur together. They hadn’t been happy about you managing to come along with them, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

However, insisting to come along with them on their run that day was pushing it, and you were meeting resistance at every turn. Things had already gotten heated between you and Jax and you really weren’t looking to get into another blowout if you could help it. However, none of the guys wanted to disagree with Jax at this point, and truthfully, they all wanted you safe back at the house with everyone else.

You stormed into the room that you were temporarily sharing with Juice, slamming the door behind you as you did. A few moments later you heard the quiet creaking of it slowly opening again. You stopped your pacing, turning to see who it was even though you already had a pretty good idea.

“Hey,” Juice softly shut the door behind him and walked towards you. He wanted to reach out and wrap you in a hug, but he stopped himself, “I’m sorry.”

“Why is it so different?” you shook your head, “You guys could all use the extra fucking backup, to be honest.”

Juice paused for a moment as he tried to carefully construct his answer. He didn’t want to upset you more, but he couldn’t deny that he’d rather have you out of harm’s way, “It’s club business. We…we don’t want you getting hurt in the middle of all this shit.”

“I’m already here, Juan!” you threw your hands up, “It’s a little late for that argument, isn’t it?”

“Hey,” he was so good at keeping his voice soft and gentle, especially with you, “I hear you, alright? I do,” he rested one hand on each of your arms, “But you gotta look at this from the other side of it. We don’t…we don’t trust them. We can’t take you with us when we don’t know how things are gonna go down.”

You shook your head, “I don’t need to be protected,” you waited for Juice to meet your eyes, “I don’t need you to protect me.”

You didn’t say it with the intention of hurting him, but you knew that it did. He tried so hard to keep you safe and happy. And normally he did that with no issue, which was impressive since the two of you were keeping things under wraps. You were surprised that the two of you got roomed together, but you figured that was because they assumed that Juice was the most harmless out of all the guys. In a lot of ways they were right. You saw it in his eyes that he hated the entire situation that you were in.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, “I didn’t…I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

He pulled you against his chest, “I know.”

You let yourself lean into him a little bit as you took a deep breath, “I know you don’t want me there, but—”

“It’s not that I don’t want—”

“Hear me out,” you ran your hands up and down his back, “I know you don’t want me there, but I can’t just sit back here and feel useless. There’s gotta be something I can do.”

He pressed a kiss to the edge of your forehead, “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

You chuckled, “Does that sound like me at all?”

His chest vibrated with laughter but neither of you said anything else. You could feel him soaking up the contact with you, his hands carefully tracing along your sides and back like he was trying to memorize everything that he could. You reveled in his body heat, wishing that those moments didn’t have to be stolen.

You weren’t sure what exactly Juice said to the guys, but whatever it was must’ve been convincing because next thing you knew, you were going on the run with them. The two of you exchanged a brief look as you all got ready to head out. You mouthed a silent thank you and he nodded in response, but you could tell that he was conflicted about what he had done. There would be another conversation about it later, you were sure of it.

When you got to the barn, you could tell that things felt off. And if you could tell that things felt off, it must’ve been pretty obvious. You could feel the tension radiating off of Jax and the other guys in the MC. No one was saying anything, but they didn’t have to. The longer that you were all standing around waiting, the thicker the tension got.

You saw Juice get assigned to keep an eye on O’Neill and your stomach twisted into a knot. Everything felt wrong but there wasn’t anything that you could do about it at this point. Before you could think about it too much, you heard Juice’s voice cut through the air, “Hap,” he turned to you, “Y/N,” he nodded for the two of you to follow him.

You walked with the two of them, waiting for some kind of instruction as to what to do next. Juice leaned in close to you so no one else could hear, “Keep an eye on SAMBEL, alright? Anything seems off come and get me.”

You nodded and separated yourself from Juice and Happy. You laid low but kept yourself close enough to everyone outside to be able to hear what was being said for the most part. Every now and then you would look around, making sure that you could always see Juice and Happy regardless of where any of you were.

Within what felt like a split second, absolute chaos broke out. The barn doors were slammed shut and locked, guys taking off in every direction. Juice grabbed you roughly by the arm and pulled you along with him and Happy, desperate to make sure that the three of you stuck together. He let you go as he pulled out his gun, shooting at the lock on the door.

Over the sounds of everyone screaming, you heard the truck start inside the barn. Happy grabbed both you and Juice and yanked you to the side, out of the main line of fire when the truck came barreling through the side of the barn. You stumbled but managed to catch yourself just in time before completely wiping out.

As everyone was running and shouting and scrambling, all you could think of was when Chibs nearly got blown to pieces at T-M. Fear shot through you as you realized what was going on. You started shouting, telling everyone to get off and away from the truck. Everyone who heard knew exactly what you were thinking and like a hivemind everyone started to book it.

You didn’t know if it was bravery or a complete lapse in judgment, but you ran towards the truck, desperate to save anyone that you could. “Get off the fucking truck,” you jumped and tackled Chibs’ nephew to the ground. In no time at all you were back on your feet, practically dragging him by his kutte to get him as far away from the mess as you could.

You were fast, but not quite fast enough. The explosion was deafening and it propelled both you and Paddy forward, throwing you to the ground. Your head smacked into the ground and all your body could register was the ringing in your ears—you couldn’t even force your eyes open for a moment.

Adrenaline kicked in and you were able to open your eyes and push yourself up slightly, looking around to try and take in the damage. It was too much to process all at once, though. There was blood and bodies everywhere. You looked to your left and saw Paddy sprawled out in much the same position that you were. You reached over, slapping his back aggressively and were rewarded with a grunt. He was alive and that was all that you cared about.

“Y/N,” Juice was running over to you as you stood up, “Jesus fucking Christ.” You stumbled a few steps, eventually having to lean onto Juice for support. You winced and Juice looked you over, eyes getting wide when he saw the shrapnel sticking out of your calf, “Shit, your leg.”

You looked down and groaned, “Fuck me,” you peeled yourself off of him, determined to stand on your own, “It’s not an artery, I’ll be fine. Are our guys alright?”

“Y/N, fucking sit down, please,” Juice never spoke to you like that but you could feel the worry emanating from him.

“Juan,” you never called him that in front of everyone else, it felt too intimate to do in front of the club, “I’m fine. I promise.”

You went to take another step when both of your legs turned to complete jello underneath you. Juice quickly stepped in and caught you, keeping you from smacking your head off the ground a second time. Without thinking better of it he pressed a kiss to the side of your head as he helped you slowly sit down on the ground, being extra mindful of your leg.

“You’ve scared me enough today, alright? Just please do this one thing for me.”

You wanted to argue but you didn’t have the energy. Before you could come up with a half-assed attempt, you heard Happy let out a chuckle. Both you and Juice turned and looked at him, and despite the laugh that had come out of him only moments before, his face was as neutral as it ever was.

His eyes darted back and forth between the two of you, “Cute.”

That was all he said before walking away and continuing triage on the entire situation. Despite the pain, and the exhaustion, and the fear, you let out a laugh, “They blew up the barn and you blew our fucking cover, huh?”

Juice looked at you and shook his head, “Now is not the time for your commentary.”

“It’s always time for my commentary. I just saved that kid’s ass I get to have that much.”

He could see the dazed look in your eyes and he knew that you could be more than content to keep debating the point with him. He let it drop, just wanting you to sit still and not injure yourself further. Despite the fact that your brain felt scrambled, you could see it in his face that he was torn between staying with you, and going to help the rest of the guys.

“Go. I’ll stay put,” you patted his leg, “Promise.”

“I don’t believe you,” he shook his head.

Before the discussion could turn into an argument, Jax interrupted, “Get her to the van, Loverboy. Don’t break her other leg.”

“It’s not broken!” you shouted after him as Juice scooped you up off the ground.

“Why are you trying to start fights right now?” he mumbled as he carried you towards the car.

“She’s gotta balance out the good deeds,” Chibs chimed in with a laugh as he helped his nephew limp away from the wreckage, “We should bring her more often, lad.”

“Absolutely fucking no—”

“Yes!” you patted Juice’s chest, “Yes.”

He shook his head as he climbed into the back of the van with you, “You’re going to be the death of me if we make it back to Charming.”

[forever-rogue]

Afterglow - Part 10

A/N: Hello! It is finally time for some more Frankie! I hope you all enjoy! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: drug and alcohol mentions;

AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’d cried yourself to sleep that night, telling yourself that it was okay to wallow and be sad for now - one night. Frankie had slipped through your fingers like sand once before and you weren’t going to let him go again; at least not that easily. You were going to fight for him, to make sure that whatever was going on with him wouldn’t take over. Whether or not he was mad, or he wanted nothing to do with you anymore, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was keeping him safe and sound.

You woke up the next morning with a fierce determination; quickly cleaning up the mess from the previous night and showering and dressing. After getting breakfast for Daisy, you promised her that you’d be back soon and made the short trek over to Frankie’s house. When you got there, you noticed that his truck was gone, and the house was locked up. Huffing silently to yourself, you went around to the back and sure enough the back door was unlocked. Whether it was intentional or not, you were glad it was open. 

Slipping inside, you quickly reacquainted yourself with the space, looking around the house that he had made his home. When you stepped into the kitchen, you noticed it was spotless, everything was pristine, and there was almost no hint that anyone lived there. A small sound escaped your lips as you went around and found the rest of the house to be in the same condition. Strange, you thought to yourself, he must have gone a cleaning spree.

You hesitated when you reached his bedroom, but pushed the door open and stepped in any way. It felt so odd to be there, his personal little sanctuary, but it still felt warm and comforting. His bed was made and everything was organized including his dresser and closet and the connecting bathroom. Pausing when you passed by the dresser, you picked up the picture frame, an instant smile stretching across your features when you noticed that it was a photo of you. This one you’d never seen before; it was something he’d kept this whole time and you’d never known. It was you - all curled up in a big blanket with only your head poking out from under the covers and a sleepy smile on your face, your eyes closed tightly. This whole time...this whole damn time. 

Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you quickly pulled up Frankie’s contact and dialed his number, praying he would answer. But it rang and rang and rang, painstakingly so, before going to voicemail. With a sigh, you ended the call before redialing and listening to the same thing; but this time you left a quick message for him to call you as soon as he got time. Deciding that you didn’t care about how this all looked, you texted him as well. 

All you could now was wait - and hope he’d call you back. There was no way he’d just cut you of his life like that again and leave, right? Right? Not again; you weren’t sure if you could handle losing Frankie Morales all over again. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

But you didn’t hear back from him that day, or the next day...or the next, despite your efforts. And you were worried sick. It was starting to consume your every thought and you were wondering what to do. He hadn’t come home either, and just hoped that everything was alright.

By the fifth day, you decided enough was enough. You grabbed your purse, left Daisy at your neighbor’s house and came to the conclusion that if you wanted answers you were going to have to work for them. Frankie had told you about his job, and luckily for your sharp memory, you’d memorized where he worked and went off to see if you were able to find out if he had been at work at all. 

The shop was small, but seemed friendly enough, although you were sure that you looked about as out of place as they come. 

"Hello?" you called out quietly as you listened to the soft humming of a radio in the distance and the quiet news playing on the aging television set. Walking up to the counter, you sighed softly, as you rang the bell after checking to make sure no one was around, "hello?"

You heard a few shuffling sounds accompanied by footsteps as someone came to the front. After a few moments a man, a handsome one that appeared to be about your age, popped in, wiping his hands on an old rag. A look of confusion crossed his features before he offered up a small smile, "sorry about that - a little shorthanded right now. What can I do for you?"

"Umm, hi," you swallowed the lump in your throat at the mention of short handed, "I-I'm kind of here on a personal thing. Do...does Francisco - Frankie Morales work here?"

"Frankie?" he asked as you nodded, "Fish?"

"I-I don't know who that is," you frowned at the odd choice of name, "I just know Frankie. I...I haven't seen him in a few days and wanted to see if you had or if he'd come to work. Maybe I...maybe I have the wrong shop...or something, I don’t know.”

You offered up an apologetic smile before turning to leave, willing yourself not to cry. But before you reached the door, you heard it and it caused you to stop dead in your tracks, "Bee? Are you...Bee?"

"I'm sorry?" you asked as you turned around and cocked your head to the side, regarding him curiously. His smile grew as he realized exactly who you were, "no- no one's called me besides Frankie…"

"You are," he dropped the rag and stepped around the counter, coming towards you before wrapping you up in a hug, "you're Bee! Frankie - we call him Fish, Catfish! He's told us all about you over the years. Holy shit - you’re actually a real person. Here and in the flesh!”

"Oh," you were taken aback for a moment before you hugged him back, a small sigh escaping your lips as you realized this was a human connection to your love. He knew Frankie - the present Frankie, the Frankie that has been taken away from you for so long. You squeezed your eyes shut as you held him tightly. You wondered if this was as cathartic for him as it was for you. 

"You look just like he always said," he pulled back and studied you, "man, he's been in love with you for so long. He said he'd finally found you again."

"Yeah," you nodded lightly as you wiped away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. This man could tell you so much about Frankie - you hoped you lived up to whatever tails Frankie had them, "its a long story….but we're neighbors now. And we had a fight a few nights ago and he's been gone and not answering my calls or texts and I'm worried…"

"You know about…" he trailed off as you nodded, feeling a heaviness settle over your heart. You made a small sound as he nodded before giving your shoulder a small squeeze, "he's been having a rough go of things."

"The first two times I saw him since I've moved in next to him he was...high. Not in good shape at all," you confessed, almost relieved that you were able to tell someone else, "I didn't know how big of a problem it was…I tried talking to him about it and we ended up fighting and he left and I haven't seen him since. I’ve been worried sick about him since he left, but I didn’t know where to begin to look so…”

“I’m glad you found me - I’m Santiago - Santi - by the way,” Santi confirmed softly as you nodded, trying to keep the tears from falling, “Frankie’s a good guy, he really is. But he’s struggling...again. I thought things were better too, but it’s obvious that he needs more help. I don’t know what it was that finally got him there, but I’m glad it did...although I have a feeling it’s you.”

“I don’t care what it is,” you admitted softly, “as long as he gets the help and support he needs. I would do anything for him.”

“You really are his girl, huh?” the man got a sappy little grin on his face as you felt a flush rise up but nodded nonetheless. 

“I’ve loved him since we were kids...it never changed,” you confessed, “even if he doesn’t want me or love me anymore, I just want him to be happy and healthy.”

“He loves you,” Santi laughed, a loud boisterous thing, “trust me.”

“Do you know where he is? Can you take me to him?” you clutched onto his arm and gave him an almost desperate look, ready to beg him if you needed, “please? I need to know everything.”

“Of course,” he promised as he took your hands in his and squeezed it tightly, “come on. Let me close up shop and we can go.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie sighed as he stared out the window, looking at the rolling hills in the distance. It was dark and gray out, signaling an impending storm, something he normally loved and yet he felt...nothing. Not depressed or empty, but not filled with life either. Just...there. He knew it was most likely the symptoms of withdrawal and finally getting clean - for good - but it was still hard. He missed you - hoped you weren’t okay or panicking too much. Hell, maybe you’d forgotten about him already. Maybe it would have been better if you did…

Either way; it was seeing you again that had sparked his zest for life. All these years and it was still you. But as soon as you’d made your reappearance, it felt like everything made sense again. Like things were just...right. And it had made him question his choices; he wanted to be better, to be the best, for not just himself, but also for you. And even if it was too late to be able to love you again, he wanted to do this for myself - he had to.

“Mr. Morales?” the nurse’s voice caught his ear and he turned slightly to look at her, offering her a small smile, “you have some visitors, if you’d like.”

Visitors? How strange...nobody knew he was here besides Santi, Will, and Benny, and he’d been in somewhat regular contact with him. Maybe it was just a surprise visit from one of them. 

“They can come in,” he nodded, reaching for the glass on the window sill to help soothe his parched throat. He hadn’t done much talking today, preferring some solitude instead. 

“Hi Frankie,” at the sound of your voice, he turned around so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Hovering in the doorway, you gave him a nervous smile, unsure of how to gauge his surprised reaction. 

“Hey Fish,” Santi popped up behind you, slowly ushering you into the room as Frankie rose to his full height. 

“H-hi,” he stammered, casting a quick glance at Santi before focusing his attention on you. He wasn’t sure if he should be scared of your reaction or if he should run over and swallow you whole in his arms, “you’re both here.”

“Of course man,” Santi laughed lightly, “we’re family - always. Now, you talk to your girl and I’m going to find some coffee.”

He left without another word, leaving the two of you to awkwardly stare at each other. When he didn’t say anything, you loosened up and noticed the glossiness of his eyes. Before you could stop yourself, you rushed over to him and wrapped him up in the tightest hug possible, “Francisco, my love. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Sweet Bee,” he buried his face into the side of your head and just let you hold him, without a word, without a care - reckless abandon. Stroking his back in soothing circles, you let him get all his tears out, only whispering soft reassurances into his ear, “I’m sorry for what happened...for fighting with you.”

“No, no, no,” you pulled back and pulled his face into your hands, giving him a soft smile before wiping away the stray that had cascaded down his cheeks, “please don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for. All I care about is you. That you’re okay and safe.”

“I should have told you...”

“Maybe,” you agreed with a small laugh, trying to get him to calm down, “but it’s okay. I would have done anything to find you. Luckily I had enough sense to go to your work and find Santi.”

“He’s...a good man,” he smiled, “we've been through so much...he’s more like my brother.”

“I know,” you could easily tell that there was a strong bond between the two men, “he’s been great...but umm...Frankie - did you tell all your friends about me?”

“Yeah,” a smile - a real, genuine smile - appeared on his face as his singular dimple made its appearance, “I did. Probably from the day I met them...”

“Francisco,” you beamed at him, “all this time...”

“Always,” he answered your unspoken question, “I love you...I’m sorry if you don’t want to hear that right now, or ever, but it’s true and I wanted you to know.”

“I love you,” you repeated softly, “nothing’s ever going to change that. Not even...this. You - we - are going to get through this, Francisco. I promise you.”

“You’re....you’re staying?” he was incredulous as he pulled back and looked at you with a slightly surprised expression, “I can’t expect...I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking,” you reassured with a gentle to his freshly shaven cheek, “I’m telling you. I love you, Francisco Morales. I lost you once and I’m not going to do it again. I’m with you - always.”

“What did I do to deserve this?” he whispered as he kissed the palm of your hand?

“You took care of me the day we met - when I ran into you and fell to the ground,” you reminded him of the fateful afternoon when the two of you had met almost twenty years ago. And to believe back then you had almost been reluctant to meet him all because your companionship was thrust upon the two of you. Looking back, you couldn’t have been more thankful, “I scraped up my palm and you cleaned it up and made sure it all healed. But look…”

You held up your and slowly displayed your right palm, letting him look over it closely. In the heart of your palm a small, almost invisible scar still lingered. If someone hadn’t been paying attention they could have easily missed it - but to you and Frankie it was loud and clear. 

“Still there,” he murmured as he traced over it and you nodded, trying to hold back all of your tears now, “apparently I didn’t do the best job…”

“You did,” you promised softly, “it could have been so much worse. This way, I’ll always have a memory of when we met - how we met.”

“I…" Frankie's lip trembled with effort as he did his best not to cry; he hadn't expected to feel this overwhelmed by such a simple thing, "I've missed you so much - I don't know how we found each other again, but I'm so glad we did."

"Me too," tracing over his lip with your thumb before leaning in to press a kiss to them, "having you back already kept me from making the biggest mistake of my life. I would have been married to that asshole by now."

"Bee…" he couldn't help but laugh as your passionate little ramble before pulling you back into his arms. His hold, his touch, was perfect - he was home, "I don't know what I'd do without you. I...I love you so much."

"I know, bub," you ruffled through his dark hair affectionately, "I love you too. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Do you...do you want to talk about it? Just...us. You know I'm not going to judge, my love. I'm not here for that."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie let out a large sigh as he sat down on the couch in his room with you sliding in next to him. Grabbing his large hand, you laced your fingers together as you just let him go on. You weren’t going to interrupt him or anything - this was his time and his story to tell and you were there without judgment. 

“Where do I begin…” he mused as you offered up a small shrug. 

“Wherever you want, Frankie,” you promised him, “I’m here listening, either way.”

“Okay,” inhaling deeply, he held his breath before letting out a long sigh, “it first started after I’d been in the military for a few years...almost fifteen years, actually. So I guess fairly recently. It wasn’t always a problem like it ended up becoming. At first it wasn’t a big deal. Something to take a little edge of after a mission, or if it all became too much or too little it was always there to help. It never seemed like a big deal at the time, it wasn’t something that I did all the time, but then it became more and more - it was never enough, I was always looking forward to that next hit or that next time. Eventually, slowly and over time it became all consuming and I couldn’t control it. That’s when…”

He paused for a moment, collecting himself and you realized just how hard it must have been for him to talk about all of this. Squeezing his hand as a sign of reassurance, silently letting him know that it was okay. It was okay for him to be so open and vulnerable to you, okay for him to be authentic self, okay for him to be who he was. Frankie gently stroked the back of your hand as he offered you a small nod. 

“I...I ended up getting busted while helping with a transport,” he confessed after some moments of tense silence, “they...they didn’t know that I used on top of it all, but I got my pilot’s license suspended because of the bust. After that it was a wake up call - that I had a problem and needed to get my shit together. I was clean after that for a while...I was able to kind of kick it myself but there was always...the urges. Slowly it would happen again from time to time but never like it was used to be; that’s what I’d convinced myself because I could control myself better and it wasn’t on my mind 24/7.”

“You already did so well,” you whispered softly, “you’ve done this much, you’ll be able to get through anything. If I may ask...and stop me if you want - when did it get bad again?”

“After...funny story actually,” he laughed but it was a small, bitter thing, “a little bit after we stumbled into each other. I was so lost to the idea that you were gone forever that when Santi came to me and Benny and Will with a mission I just went. And it went fucking terrible. When we got back...what better way to cope than to turn back to what gave me some relief in the first place? So I did....and well...the rest you already know.”

“My love…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say next. You didn’t want to push him away by making it seem like you were trying to analyze him or pity him. You just wanted him to know that you loved him no matter what, and you would be there for him, “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. No one deserves that - I can’t say that I understand exactly how you feel or anything. But I want to try to understand and I want to help you however I can. All you need to do is to tell me how I can do that, okay?”

“Thank you…” he hung his head as he nodded, letting out a few shaky breaths. Reaching over, you pulled him towards you and wrapped him back up in your arms, peppering the side of his head in gentle kisses. His strong arms wrapped around your waist and he held onto you like he was afraid you might vanish into thin air, “I know this can’t be what you expected when we were young or even a few months ago…”

“I don’t care,” you promised, rocking himself, “I told you - none of it matters. The only thing that matters to me is you.” 

“Honey Bee,” he buried his face into your neck and you could feel his tears soaking into the fabric of your shirt, “I-I’m...scared. I’m scared I’m not never going to get better and never give you the Frankie you deserve.”

“Honey,” squeezing your eyes shut, you wished you could soak up all of his fears and worries, “I know it’s scary, and there will be some bad days, but there will be so, so many good days. You will get there, I promise you will. You have me every step of the way, however you need. You are my Frankie. You always will be.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you brought his face to yours, “but for now, you need to stay here until you’re ready to come home. And don’t rush it because we’ll always be there for you. We’ll wait. When you come home, Daisy and I will be right there. You are my home, Francisco. You always have been and always will be. Okay?”

“Okay,” there was a hint of a smile on his face as he looked at you like you had hung all the stars and he melted at your words, “okay.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog  @sheridans-dynamos  @queenbbarnes  @persephonesnebula   @ah-callie  @blushingwueen  @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander  @rae-gar-targaryen    @hiscyarika  @readsalot73  @huliabitch  @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd  @beepbeepsephy   @scarlettwitcher  @nerdyknightwritersblog  @choicesarcade  @arrowswithwifi  @everythingaboutnothingstuff  @suckerfor-fanfics  @bestintheparsec @javihoney  @aeryntheofficial  @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial  @asgardianvamp21  @keithseabrook27  @karmezii  @dearspacepirates  @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou  @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie @linkpk88 @leaiorganas @nikkixostan @haley-the-comet @chibi-yuki @computeringturtle @4ng3lf43 @intu-witch-tion @wondergal2001 @gingerbreadandpaper @willowtheewisp @milkxxkookies @smollpinkgirl @zukoyonce  @boomtownboy​

Frankie Taglist:   @misslolasworld  @annathewitch  @synystersilenceinblacknwhite  @mrscrain-x7 @jaime1110 @lokiaddicted @prettylittlegoldfish @heythere-mel @mrsparknuts @mrpascals @agingerindenial @knittingqueen13 @wickedfrsgrl @rogueonestan @i-ship-it-ironically @lv7867 @heyitmelexie @lordmotherofcats @godohammers @stitchers-in-stitches @none-of-your-bullshit @ghostwiththemostbitch @computeringturtle @hayley-the-comet @bex-03 @emesispo @wille-zarr @driedgreentomatoes @mrsdaamneron @laymegentlytorest @crazyworldofsiani  @magikfanatic @ruthdjarin @fruit-of-my-hoechoins @crazyworldofsiani 

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 6,377 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, violence, gore, death, sexuality, nudity, typical TWD A/N: I didn't do nearly as many read-throughs with this one so there are probably typos. And this part was getting HELLA long, so I ended up cutting it in a different place buuuuut that means you'll probably get the next chapter a little sooner! A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: The communities strike at The Saviors.

Your name: submit What is this?

“Everybody knows what they’re supposed to do?” Rick glanced around one final time at all of you gathered together. The air was tense and silent. He nodded. “Alright. Then let’s get this done.”

The crowd broke up a little chaotically as everyone headed to their positions. You watched with some apprehension, wondering just who was leaving now and wouldn’t return… Your reverie was broken by Aaron who ran up and grabbed you into a tight hug. Eric appeared shortly after.

“You be safe,” Aaron said, squeezing you tight. You wrapped your arms around him and returned it, shutting your eyes and hugging him back extra tight.

“You too. Both of you.”

Eric grabbed you next and seemed to give you an extra-long squeeze. “Go be your badass self, okay?” he said as he finally broke apart from you. “And we’ll see you back at home.” You nodded and gave his shoulder one last affectionate pat.

“Take care of each other,” you said, drinking in the sight of the two of them, your brow furrowed with worry.

They nodded earnestly and you exchanged a few more words of parting before they headed to their assigned cars. You watched them climb in, your stomach turning with anxiety.

You felt gentle fingers on your lower back and knew immediately that it was Daryl. You spun to face him and your worried expression was reflected on his face. “This is it,” he drawled.

“Yep,” you agreed with a nod.

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip. “Wish we didn’t have to be apart for it,” he said quietly.

“I know. Me too. But we both have to play our roles, right? We’ve got jobs to do.”

He nodded before glancing around briefly and grabbing your hand. “C’mere,” he said, tugging you a little way away from the crowd to a more secluded spot. When he spun around again to look at you, you could truly see in his blue eyes how uneasy he was. He clasped your face and drank in the sight of you, trying to draw strength from the way you were looking up at him. He pulled you in against him with the other hand, light on your lower back. He gave you a pointed look. “I’ll see ya after,” he said vehemently.

You nodded again, gulping at the tightness in your throat. “After.”

Daryl leaned down and heatedly pressed his lips to yours, setting you ablaze. His tongue flicked across your lower lip and you parted yours to allow entrance for him, kissing him back feverishly, your arms looped around his neck as you arched into him. When Daryl’s lips finally softened, he didn’t pull away completely. You both were out of breath and off-balance from that kiss and he pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes shut, just breathing you in for a moment longer, feeling you solid beneath his hands.

His blue eyes finally opened and met yours again and now he felt braver, stronger.

“Daryl,” you said, not meaning for it to come out in a whisper but it did. “I love you.” Your eyes flickered between his.

He couldn’t help how his lips curved into a small smile when you said that, every time. He clasped your face again in both hands, looking deeply into your eyes, memorizing the flecks of color. “I love ya, too.” He’d gotten better at hearing it and at saying it. He pressed one more urgent kiss to your lips and then laced his fingers with yours. The two of you headed back out to depart for battle.

Rosita strode over and held her hand out to you for a fist bump. “Ready, chica?” she asked.

You nodded and gave her a small smile as you bumped her fist with yours. You had your game face on now. Any trace of worry or fear in your expression was gone. “Let’s do it.”

“Hey—ya watch out for each other, alright?” Daryl said to both of you.

“We’ve got this,” Rosita said. “Don’t worry.”

Daryl nodded and gave you one last look before heading to his bike.

You caught Rosita’s eyes. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Soon you were behind the wheel in the vehicle with Rosita riding shotgun and all the supplies loaded in back.

“Alright, let’s run through it again,” you said, clutching the steering wheel much harder than necessary.

Rosita laughed a little dryly. “We’ve been through it a hundred times!”

“I know, but—it calms me down,” you muttered, glancing over at her.

She gave you a knowing look and nodded. “I know. Okay. We set the charges—all ten—main highway and the side roads that would lead to Alexandria. Then, we get the hell out of Dodge before any potential Saviors come our way and hopefully get blown to pieces... You drop me to rendezvous with Carol and you head for clean-up duty and assistance at the outpost. After, everyone meets back at Hilltop.”

You let out a forced exhale. “Okay. Okay. We’ve got this.”

You pulled over as you arrived at the first spot you were going to wire up and both of you hopped out to grab the devices you’d built. They’d trigger if something heavy enough, like a vehicle, tripped the pressure hose you laid across the road. By the time you had them assembled and armed you were already dripping with sweat. Rosita looked about the same as you climbed back into the SUV.

You wiped a hand across your brow and glanced over at her. “One down,” you said.

“Nine to go,” she said, clicking her seatbelt and let out a nervous breath. She glanced back at the supplies stacked in the back. “Can’t believe we’re finally doing this. About damn time,” she said. “That bastard and all his assholes deserve to pay for everything they’ve done.”

You felt her eyes on your face and glanced over.

“I just want you to know that you’re one of us. Family. Totally and completely,” she said.

Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but smile at her. “Thanks. Feel like we won the lottery with Aaron finding all of you,” you replied.

“Especially, Daryl, right?” she said knowingly, laughing at your expression.

You could feel your cheeks burning with a blush. “Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes at her and turned them back to the road.

“You’re really good for him though, you know. In all seriousness.” Rosita watched as you just chewed on your bottom lip a bit nervously. “I’ve never seen him so happy. And that’s even with us all being right in the middle of this goddamn shitstorm.”

“Well… I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy either,” you said, feeling your cheeks redden again. You cleared your throat and laughed a little bashfully. “Alright, enough distracting me. I’m trying to keep my game face on. We’re almost at the next point,” you said, slowing the vehicle. You and Rosita repeated your set-up at all the assigned locations. At the last one she extended a fist to you again and you happily bumped it.

“See you back home,” she said. “Be careful.”

“I will.” You waved and were turning away to move your gun onto the center console when you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Carol behind you. “Everything alright?” you asked her. Rosita was waiting by Carol’s vehicle.

Carol grabbed you into a hug and you let out a small surprised noise. “Oh—th—thanks,” you said, managing to hug her back.

She gave you a fond look when she pulled back. “Come back in one piece, alright? If something happens to you—Daryl—”

“Hey. You, too,” you said seriously. “But nothing is happening to any of us, Right?”

Carol simply nodded, still looking apprehensive, and rushed back to Rosita and her vehicle to take off to their next position. You forced out an exhale as they sped off and climbed back into the SUV. Alone.

You were feeling extra anxious now. It was agonizing without any way to keep contact with everyone and you kept having flashes of almost overwhelming worry. Enough time had passed that everyone would be in the thick of things and if things were going to go sideways, they almost certainly had by now… But the revving and hum of the engine was somehow comforting as you sped toward your next location. Your plan was to a help at the spot where Aaron and Eric would be with a big group, clearing out an outpost. You had some other homemade IEDs in the back in case they were needed, but mostly you just wanted to be another gun and set of eyes.

You pushed the gas pedal down to the floor as you cruised down the highway. You were making good time when you suddenly felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You squinted up ahead and could see some obstacle in the road. You pressed your foot to the brake to slow a little, and eventually you could finally make out that it was an unfamiliar vehicle almost completely blocking both lanes. you noticed there were a few people standing on the side of the road with weapons. Saviors.

“Shit,” you swore under your breath. Your mind was racing as you tried to figure out what to do. You thought you could scrape through on the edge of the lane if you were going fast enough to make yourself a hard target to shoot at or stop. But if they shot out your tire or something… “Fuck it,” you said out loud, and you moved your foot back to the gas pedal and depressed it to the floor again. The SUV leaped over the concrete, the engine roaring to life. “Come on. Come on…”

You were almost to the group of Saviors when you registered some object flying through the air, hurled by one of the men on the side of the road. You watched it as if in slow motion and by the time you realized what it likely was it was too late. All you could do was brace yourself as the grenade exploded just in front of the hood of your vehicle. The shockwave from the fireball was strong enough to blow and roll your vehicle back and on its side into the ditch in the middle of the highway. You vaguely registered the sound of screaming metal tearing against concrete, deafening cracks and crunches, and shattering glass as the SUV rolled over and over before the vehicle came to rest in the grassy ditch on the driver’s side.

Move. You have to move. Move. You couldn’t hear anything but a high-pitched ringing in your ears and your vision was splotchy and blurred with dark and red spots as you tried to keep your eyes open. Your vision seemed to go in and out, blurred and then sharpening, and then blurring again. Somehow you managed to get your bearings and struggled until you could undo your seatbelt. You registered that the windshield was completely busted and you maneuvered until you could kick it out. There was so much adrenaline coursing through you that you didn’t feel any pain, even though you were vaguely aware of a decent amount of blood on your body and hands. You saw your rifle laying down by the pedals and felt for your pistol with the other hand, making sure it was still in its holster on your leg. It was.

You vaguely heard shouting coming from the direction you assumed The Saviors were in. And it was then that you suddenly remembered the IEDs in the back of the vehicle. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” You scrambled to climb out through the kicked-out windshield. “Shit, shit, shit!” The devices hadn’t been completely assembled or armed, but a violent car crash like the one you had just experienced definitely was enough to fuck them up and make them unstable. You let out a groan as you climbed to your feet, keeping bent over low and trying to shelter behind the turned over vehicle even as you struggled to put as much distance as possible between yourself and it. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

The crack of a gun was shortly followed by a bullet whizzing past you and you threw yourself flat to the ground and rolled over on your back so you could look back in the direction of your attackers. The tall grass in the ditch concealed you fairly well, but it also prevented you from being able to see how close they were. You were panting from exertion and the growing trickle of pain that was coming back to you now that the initial wave of adrenaline was waning made it hard to think straight. You sat up and barely peered over the tall grass, the stock of your rifle pressed into your shoulder, ready to be raised completely.

The Saviors were moving cautiously toward the vehicle, all doing their signature whistling which still sent chills through you. One was out ahead and moving in your direction. Where a moment before you had been rushing away and hoping that the explosives in the back of the SUV would remain stable, now you started wishing for the opposite. “Come on, you piece of shit. Blow the fuck up,” you muttered under your breath. You raised the rifle to your shoulder and took aim at the leader moving toward you as best you could without revealing yourself. It was still hard to see from your low vantage point on the ground, but you weren’t about to stand up and draw fire from all of them at once if you could help it.

You didn’t think they knew who you were yet, because they had shot at you seemingly to kill. Negan’s ominous words rang in your mind again, about wanting you alive.

“Why don’t you come on out?” the leader yelled, sweeping his gaze side to side as he slowly moved away from the SUV. “You’re all alone out here and you’ve got no way to get anywhere! You’re probably hurt! If you surrender now we’ll treat you reeeeeal nice. Promise!”

You heard faint laughter from the other men hanging back by the vehicle, apparently still trying to pry a door or something open to more closely inspect what was inside.

“Run, run, little rabbit! Come on!” The leader shouted again.

You were just about to shout something back, getting ready to squeeze off a rifle round, when there was another tremendous explosion and you felt the shockwave run right through you, throwing you back flat to the ground as the hot air and concussive blast rushed past. Smoke drifted over you as you stared up at the blue sky and you could hear the raining of some debris falling back to the ground.

You knelt in the tall grass and cautiously looked over at the blackened skeletal remains of your vehicle, flames still licking out from the interior. The bodies of the Saviors that had been closest to the explosion were still and maimed on the ground. You paced cautiously closer, looking for the leader, and you finally found him on the ground, flat on his stomach, apparently still disoriented from the blast, but largely unhurt.

He tried to get up as he suddenly registered your presence but you pushed the muzzle of your rifle into his back. “Where are the fucking keys to your truck?” you demanded. “Hands up! Where I can see them!”

He complied.

“Keys!” you demanded again.

“My back pocket!” he said.

“Don’t fucking move,” you growled again. You bent down and patted his pants pockets, feeling something in the left one and reaching in to pull out the keys. Just then the Savior made a quick move and pushed himself up off the ground onto his hands and knees. The movement knocked you slightly back as he bumped into your rifle. He was spinning around and reaching for a pistol at his hip when you instinctively shouldered your gun and fired. The round struck him squarely in the chest and he fell back to the ground, landing hard and lying still after a brief moment. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. You bent down again and grabbed the keys you had dropped.

You stood over the dead Savior’s body and unsheathed your knife, cringing as you plunged it into his temple so he wouldn’t turn. You went to do the same to the others killed in the explosion. As you moved, you started to register that your entire body felt bruised but you stopped yourself from really looking for injuries yet. Not here. Time to go.

You rushed over to the Savior’s truck and peered in the bed, looking underneath a heavy tarp. There were boxes and boxes of ammo and a couple crates of automatic weapons. Obviously, these guys were moving merchandise to a new place when shit started to hit the fan. They’d probably just been told to watch the main road when you came along. You breathed a sigh of relief and tried to get your heart rate and breathing to return to normal. “Okay… I’m okay…”

Climbing hastily into the driver’s seat, you inserted the key and the truck rumbled to life. You turned and headed in the direction of the outpost, again pressing your foot almost to the floor.

By the time you arrived, you could tell that things were apparently over. There was no active shooting and you could see your people moving around methodically, dealing with the casualties so you weren’t adding any more walking dead to the world. You immediately shut off the engine and forced the truck into park even before it had really stopped moving. You rushed out into the maze of barricades, searching desperately for anyone you recognized. You felt people’s eyes on you as you passed them and had a sense from their expressions that you looked pretty rough. “Aaron!” you yelled. “Aaron! Eric!”

You couldn’t explain it but you felt suddenly frantic and your stomach rolled with nausea. “AARON!? ERIC?” You rushed through the debris and searched urgently. You rounded barricade after barricade but weren’t finding them and the hard pit that formed in your stomach just got heavier and heavier, until finally you rounded one last truck and saw them. You stalled and the air was ripped from your lungs.

Aaron was on the groun and hunched over Eric who was leaning up against a tree. With even a brief glance it was easy to tell that Eric was already gone. He was dead. Gone. Just like that. “No. No… No, no, no. No!” Your feet propelled you forward but you fell to your knees still a short distance away, your legs suddenly giving out. You crawled the last few feet to Aaron’s side. You didn’t want to look at Eric’s vacant expression and the paleness of the skin on his face but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it for a long time. You could feel hot tears streaming down your face and the saltiness stung. You gathered yourself enough to glance over at Aaron who was just hunched over and sobbing in agony, clutching to Eric’s hand like it was a lifeline, like maybe if he just didn’t let go then this wasn’t real. You gently pressed a hand to his back and he startled a little at the contact, apparently realizing you were there now for the first time. He straightened up slightly and the questioning look and disbelief on his face were the same you were feeling. “Aaron,” you managed to croak out. “Aaron, I’m—I’m sorry.” You could barely get the words out. You shook your head, whirling from the ramifications of Eric’s silent and still form lying there heavily. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered again, now completely breaking down like he was. Tears streamed faster down your face and you felt your throat constrict with emotion. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Aaron—”

Aaron’s crying began again as he looked at you and you grabbed him and pulled his head to your shoulder. The two of you were clinging onto each other and you did your best to pull yourself back together as he went to pieces. There was nothing you could tell him… You couldn’t tell him it would be okay. You didn’t know that. What could you possibly say? The love of his life was laying dead beside you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl arrived back at Hilltop and hurriedly parked his bike. The community was in chaos with the wounded being rushed for care, people searching for their friends and loved ones, and many just standing around in a daze. Daryl spotted Rosita and Carol and stalked hurriedly over to them. He accepted a relieved hug from Carol before turning to look at Rosita. “How’d it go? Any problems?” he drawled.

Rosita shook her head. “No. No problems. We got everything set up like clockwork. Only—”

Daryl’s stomach twisted. “Only what?”

Carol stepped forward again. “Y/N isn’t back yet and we were expecting her by now. And we haven’t seen Aaron or Eric either.”

Daryl felt his heart drop into his stomach. “Well, is anybody from that outpost back yet? Maybe we need to send another group up there.”

“Some of them are back already,” Rosita said. “But nobody seems to know—”

“I’m goin’,” Daryl growled, immediately turning on his heel and heading straight back for his bike.

“I’ll come with you,” Carol said, starting after him.

“No! Ya stay here and help! And if ya see Rick tell him where I went!” he roared over his shoulder.

Daryl pushed his limits on his bike, racing to follow the path you would have driven after Rosita split off from you. He spotted a column of dark smoke rising up into the air ahead and felt like a knife had twisted in his heart again. He urged his himself on even as terror about what he could find made it hard to breathe.

All he saw when he first arrived was what was left of a vehicle he knew to be yours on its side, smoldering in the ditch. Daryl gulped and tried to stop bile from rising into his throat. He climbed off his bike and grabbed his gun, cautiously and fearfully moving toward the vehicle. He stopped a short distance away, his heart pounding, and had to pace a few times, reeling, steeling himself, before he had the courage to move closer. He felt shaky as he approached the bashed-out windshield and peered inside.

He heaved a momentary sigh of relief when he saw no body inside. You weren’t in there.

But where were you?

Daryl began to look around and found some trails in the tall grass. He followed them and discovered the bodies of four men. Each of them had a stab wound in their temple, obviously to prevent them from turning.

Okay. This looked like your handiwork. The archer breathed another sigh of relief. However, he knew you’d likely been in your vehicle when it had crashed and he had no way of knowing where you were and whether or not you were badly injured. There was also still the possibility that more Saviors had arrived and grabbed you. He headed back to his bike and climbed on, deciding to drive the rest of the way to the outpost you were supposed to be heading to, keeping his eyes open for any sign of you.

He rode in strenuous anxiety the rest of the way, searching the road ahead and each side as he went, but seeing nothing that pointed to your whereabouts. When he finally made it to the outpost and parked his bike, he was relieved to see that the battle was over and clearly the Saviors had lost. There were still a few of Alexandria and Hilltop’s people milling around and Daryl started his search for you, his stomach twisting every time he came upon a body, worried he would look down and see that it was you.

He finally rounded one of the armored trucks and froze. His heart sank back into his stomach. You and Aaron were on the ground. You had your arm around Aaron and Daryl could tell he was sobbing against you by the hitched, uneven breaths he was gasping in and the way his shoulders were shaking. The reason why was perfectly clear. Eric’s pale and still form was leaned up against the tree and there was a shockingly large stain of deep crimson on his stomach.

Daryl forced himself to move closer to the scene and lightly touched your other shoulder. You straightened up and looked up at him, your expression one of pure agony and your wide eyes filled with tears.

You were battered, bloody, and bruised, and Daryl was pretty sure there was glass in some of the flecked wounds on your face. Your arms were cut and bleeding, but Daryl knew you weren’t feeling any of those injuries right now.

There was nothing to say, so Daryl just stood there silently looking at you for a long moment, feeling a sharp ache between his lungs that seemed to grow the longer he stood there.

You sniffled and cleared your throat, turning back to Aaron and clasping his face in both hands, making him look at you. His eyes were red and puffy and there was a constant flow of tears down his cheeks. “Go with Daryl,” you murmured to him. “Aaron. Listen to me. Go with Daryl, okay?”

Aaron’s eyes frantically moved back to Eric’s body and his expression was desperate.

“Come on,” you said, climbing gingerly to your feet and pulling Aaron up with you, even while he refused to tear his eyes away from Eric. “Go with Daryl,” you said again. You nudged him away and he finally complied, stepping back. Aaron wandered away toward the nearest vehicle in a daze.

You stared down at Eric’s body, feeling suddenly numb, and Daryl watched as you unsnapped the loop of the sheath that covered the hilt of your knife.

Daryl stepped forward again. “Y/N. Ya ain’t gotta—I can—I can take care of it,” he said gently.

“No. I need to.” You turned and looked at Daryl again and renewed tears flowing down your cheeks. “I need to. I—I want to. I can do it.”

Daryl nodded, his chest aching, and he slowly retreated to stand with Aaron.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Later that night, once you had finally returned to Hilltop with Aaron and Daryl, you insisted on digging a grave and burying Eric yourself. A small group of Alexandrians who had known him gathered to pay their respects, but they finally all drifted away. Maggie was able to convince Aaron to come away to be looked over by the doctor. The archer found you alone, sitting in a cloudy daze on the ground, staring at the newly erected grave marker. Daryl anxiously chewed on his bottom lip and knelt down beside you, gently putting a hand on your back.

His touch seemed to bring another swell of emotion in you and you gasped in a shaky breath and tried not to fall to pieces again.

Daryl’s blue eyes whirred over you and studied all the injuries you’d sustained that day, but none was hurting you more deeply than the loss of one the people you cared the most dearly about. You were exhausted and defeated and Daryl knew it was going to be his job to get you back on your feet. And he was going to do it.

He wrapped his arm around you and spoke gently. “C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You simply stared straight ahead at the grave, still seemingly lost in the veil of your grief.

“Y/N. Hey. Look at me,” Daryl urged you. “Look at me.”

You finally turned your eyes back to him and they seemed dark compared to the light he was used to seeing in them. Daryl gently clasped your face and you closed your eyes at the contact, falling against him the next moment like you had nothing more to give. Daryl wrapped you against him tightly and smoothed his hands lightly over your back. “I know. M’sorry. M’so sorry.” He left a kiss in your hair and held you for a long time. Finally, you pulled back and looked up at him, your eyes still glistening a little. “C’mon. Let me patch ya up.”

You finally nodded and Daryl helped you to your feet. He kept an arm looped around you, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, and you followed him back to the familiar trailer you had shared before. Daryl sat you down on the couch and went to his pack and dug out the first aid kit. He returned and sank down on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, his lips pulled in between his teeth.

He grabbed the pair of tweezers and gently turned your face so he could see where some glass was still embedded in your forehead and cheekbone, apparently from your head hitting the side window and shattered debris when the vehicle finally came to rest. He plucked a several pieces out and you barely flinched. He found a few more bits of glass in your shoulder and arm as well as the palms of your hands. You sat frozen as he tended to you, a faraway look in your eyes. Daryl grabbed a few alcohol swabs and opened them, dabbing at the cuts and scrapes on your cheekbone and forehead. He gently clasped your chin and examined the other side of your face. Your expression was vague and disconnected and it was worrying Daryl immensely.

He shifted his attention back to your arms, cleaning off the dried blood and wounds the best he could, some of which began bleeding freely again. There were angry red marks on your wrists from the chemicals in the air bag.

“Hey,” he said, moving your hair away from your face. “Ya wanna take a shower? Should look the rest of ya over too,” he said gently.

For the first time since he’d sat you down you looked right at him and seemed to really see him. Your expression was still desperate, but you nodded.

Daryl nudged his nose up, returning it. “Alright. C’mon,” he said, standing up and helping you to your feet. You winced a little as you moved again. Your whole body felt like it was bruised and stiffening. Daryl left you standing in the doorway of the little bathroom as he ran the water and tested the temperature. “Alright,” he said, stepping out. “I’ll be right out here if ya need me.” He started to slip past you but your hand floated to his chest and landed lightly there, freezing him instantly.

He easily read the request in your eyes. You didn’t want to be alone. You needed him.

His arms circled around you again and he nodded. “Alright. S’okay.” You collapsed against him again. You shut your eyes and focused on the steady sound of his heart beating. “I’ve got ya,” he said softly. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He pressed a kiss to your hair.

You allowed Daryl to gently move you into the bathroom. He shut the door softly behind you and his hands landed lightly on your hips. He studied the bruising and cuts on your face in the brighter light and this time felt a hot swell of rage. Thank God you were alright. It was too damn close… “Let’s take a look at ya, alright?” he said gently. He hesitated before grasping the hem of your dirty and bloodstained shirt and pulled it up over your head. You couldn’t stop the sharp intake of air between your teeth as you struggled to raise your left arm. As you were free from the fabric, Daryl saw the dark bruising from the seatbelt that started at your shoulder and cut across your chest.

He clasped your face again lightly before sweeping your hair back. “How’s yer neck? Sore?”

You nodded. “A little.”

The first words you’d spoken since you’d told him you would take care of Eric… Daryl was quite sure it was more than a little.

You undid the holster with your pistol still in it that was strapped to your thigh and you pulled your knife in its sheath away from your jeans. Daryl’s eyes took in the bumps and bruises on your bare skin, the cuts and abrasions on your arms, as you undid the clasp of your bra and let it fall carelessly to the floor.

Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt and Daryl helped you slip it off him. The range of movement in your shoulder was limited by the swollen and stiff muscles around the joint and you winced a little with every movement. Your eyes hungrily drank in the sight of his broad chest and shoulders and you pressed your hands to him immediately, like you wanted to be certain he was real in front of you, grounding, safe. Daryl’s arms gently wrapped you against him, skin to skin. When you broke apart again, you leaned back against the counter and Daryl unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans. He helped you slip out of them, still feeling a little nervous as all of you was bared to him, but your hands found his button and fly and soon he was all skin too, and he stepped into the shower beneath the warmth of cascading water and beckoned you in with a simple tilt of his head.

You were drawn to him and the comfort and safety he gave you like a magnetic. You shut your eyes and let the stream of hot water wash over you. It stung all your wounds but you didn’t care. The sharp sensation was better than the numbness you’d been feeling since— Daryl gently smoothed his hands over your wet skin, his fingers light over every little bruise and cut. He washed the remaining dirt and blood away and you gave into the sensation of being cared for, pushing away the emptiness and nausea that was overwhelming you. Daryl swept your wet hair to one side and kissed your shoulder and your neck so lightly and tenderly it raised goosebumps on your skin despite the warm cloak of the water. He traced his fingers down your spine, letting them wander over the graceful curve of your back before he looped his arm around you from behind, holding you securely against him. You leaned your head back against his chest and tried to convince your muscles to release the tense grip they had on your skeleton.

Daryl thought he felt you soften beneath his hands finally, and the next moment you turned, the water running in rivulets over your collarbone and down your chest, and you looked up at him. He loved the way the water droplets clung to your eyelashes.

“Thank God you’re alright,” you said softly, tears in your eyes again. Your smoothed your hands over his strong chest, your fingers tracing the scars on his skin. “Thank God,” you said again, looping your arms around him and leaning your head on his chest.

“Thank God you are. When I first saw your SUV, I—” Daryl’s hands smoothed over the curves and angles of you again. “S’alright,” he drawled quietly. “We’re alright.”

The pattering of the shower reminded you of the calming sound of rain and you did your best to fill yourself up with this strong man, replacing the empty hole that seemed to have taken hold in your chest since your eyes first landed on Eric’s pale face and Aaron’s anguish.

A short time later, your towel still wrapped around you, Daryl finished patching you up with a gauze pad here and a bandage there. His eyes kept catching on the deep bruise from your seatbelt that cut across your chest. When he was satisfied you were taken care of, you grabbed the kit before he could put it away and tended to some abrasions and wounds he had sustained himself. You lightly rested a hand against his cheek, leaning into him.

“You’ll tell me how today went?” you asked.

Daryl nudged his nose up in a couple nods. “Mhm. Tomorrow. Ya need rest.”

“So do you,” you said, running a wavy strand of his brown hair through your fingers. Your eyes flickered between his for a moment and then shut as you leaned in and met his lips with yours.

Daryl pulled you more tightly into him and tangled his fingers in your hair, kissing you back softly but with a neediness you felt straight to your core. You ran your thumb along the edge of his strong jaw and kissed him with a warmth Daryl felt spread to his chest instantly and bloom outwards.

“C’mon,” he said gently, tilting his head toward the bed. “I ain’t lettin’ ya go all night,” he said earnestly, smoothing your hair away from your face again.

There was a tinge of sadness in your eyes again. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

[shotofire]

Attractive Girl, Uncomfortable Stares

Tobio Kageyama x F!Reader

Overview: in which the team finds out a girl does in fact fancy Kageyama

Warnings: cursing, small mentions of anxiety and some self doubt (nothing major)

Season: not specified, but i imagine it in the season 1-2 range

-

Practice had run over time for Kageyama, which happens pretty often. Hinata would beg him for a few more sets and he’d comply. Each boy was hungry for improvement so it wouldn’t take much convincing. He’d always be sure to text you and let you know, but today he let it slip his mind.

It could only be assumed that he was caught up with his team but you still needed to make sure of his whereabouts, incase he was still planning on walking you home.

You texted and called a few times but to no avail. Kageyama had told you to never come to the gym, saying his team would eyeball you like the last women on Earth. Plus he wasn’t into the idea of them even knowing he has a girlfriend, it’d arise too many questions.

He’d already seen the way guys would check you out in the hallways, the last thing he needed was the boys he sees everyday to mention how hot his girlfriend is. But he’d never prepared you for if he didn’t answer, or didn’t let you know what was going on. So today you had to ignore his requests and make your way to the gym.

Of course you knew where it was but you’d never been inside. Swim club had been your go to since middle school, so the gym was foreign to you. The sound of yelling and balls slamming to the floor could be heard from outside the door. It seemed a bit dramatic to classify yourself as nervous but that’s exactly how you felt.

You’d never spoke to any of the members besides Kageyama, obviously, and Tsukishima. The only reason you’d conversated with him was because he was in one of your classes and asked for a pencil, but you still think it was just an excuse to talk to you.

Talking wasn’t your strong suit. You always struggled to come up with things to say to others you weren’t so comfortable with. Kageyama knew the guys would babble until you’d stare at them with a blank mind. Tanaka was a nice guy but would probably chatter too much for your liking, and would stare at you as well.

The debate to go in was still racing through your mind. Kageyama wouldn’t be upset with you if you explained your reasoning, that’s not what worried you. It was more of the fact that there were tall boys with all sorts of personalities waiting for you on the other side. Also Kiyoko’s beauty was extremely intimidating, but you had no idea that many found you as equal as her. If you knew you’d most likely finally notice all the people who stare at you as you walk by.

The grey doors infront of you flew open, and there the goddess herself stood. She nearly slammed into you not expecting anyone on the other side. “Oh i’m sorry,” she says with a soft smile, “I’ll get out of your way.” Her back is against the door now, holding it open for you. “I-um, thank you.” You stumble over your words, there was no choice now.

Smells of sweat immediately hit you in the face once you step in. The door closes behind you rather loudly, echoing through out the gym. Boys were spread out in groups of two.

You quickly spotted Kageyama by the net with his back turned to you, with a red head that you could only assume was Hinata. You’d memorized some names from your boyfriends stories.

Across the gym Nishinoya is starring at you, not that you have noticed, with his mouth ajar. Asahi hits the ball with his forearms, like they’d been doing for an hour, and the ball finds its way onto Nishinoya’s face. Panic sets over the sweet giant as his friend cries out in pain. “I’m sorry!”

Tanaka has already spotted you and made your presence know to Daichi, “Why is there a really pretty girl in our gym?” His eyes are practically lit up and he observes your figure. He takes note that the school uniform is very flattering on you. “Woah she is pretty,” Daichi says with a blush and his hand anxiously scratching the back of his head.

It had gone a bit silent, only adding to your anxiety. Your face felt hot and you just knew that the redness on your cheeks are increasing by the second.

“Uh, Kageyama?” You manage to squeak out. His head is spinning and his body follows.

Oh shit, he thinks. They’re all looking at you like they haven’t ate in a million years. He can feel his chest tighten when Tanaka is practically drooling over you. This moment shouldn’t be happening, he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable under their gazes. They were all sweet guys, just didn’t know how to behave their hormones sometimes.

For a second he gets a little frustrated with you. He’d made it clear coming wasn’t a good idea, he was never going to hear the end of it from his team. But then he knows you’d never go against his wishes unless something were to happen, and that’s when he realizes... the dummy had forgotten to text you.

You feel yourself loosen once his expression isn’t so intimidating, the last thing you wanted to do was upset him.

“Kageyama?” Nishinoya has a sour look on his face, and his voice is laced with annoyed confusion. Why was a girl like you in here for him? There was no way in the shorties mind that grumpy Kageyama could win over someone like you. The rest of the boys are confused as well, you’d never been brought up by him. Then again, why would he? Girlfriends had never really come up in conversation, it was all about volleyball.

He rolls his eyes at Nishinoya’s words and ignores him. “I’ll be right back,” he mumbles to Hinata. Soon your boyfriend is infront of you with an apologetic smile, obviously realizing he’d done this to himself. “Sorry (y/n), I got too caught up.”

This was the first time he’d slacked in the communication department your entire relationship, so you could let it slide. “It’s okay, I just didn’t want to accidentally leave without you.” He nods in understanding.

“I’ll talk to you later, text me when you make it home, I love you.” You’re about to just say a simple I love you and go on about your day, but Kageyama surprises you. His lips press to your forehead and your eyes widen, not expecting him to do that at all. His team was being rather nosey watching the whole thing go down.

A dramatic gasp from Tanaka could be heard, of course the guy was making a big deal out of this. A blush is fast to creep onto your face, “I love you,” you say while trying to hold back the huge smile trying to pry its way through. Part of you thought he’d brush you off as a friend to all of them just to avoid the confrontation. You knew he didn’t want any of them to ask weird questions about you, which happenes more often in the girl department than you’d think.

Instead he leaned down to give you a sweet peck on your, hot from nervousness, forehead. Once he jogs back to his position from before you take that as your cue to leave. The gym already felt like it was closing in on you so withdrawing from the situation was definitely what you needed. Their eyes are just too much to bare, you hate not knowing what they’re thinking.

“Did you just kiss her?!” Hinata yells while jumping up and down. The rest of his team was already crowding around him, eyes sparkling with interest. This is exactly what he didn’t want to happen, of course they just wanted to know everything. He gets it, you’re pretty but he’s not an asshole boyfriend who spills all of your guys’ personal business.

“Yeah I kissed her, she’s my girlfriend.”

He swears his head starts ringing when gasps and shouts echo around the gymnasium. A few were even running in circles as if it’s the craziest thing they’ve ever heard in their lives. Was it really that hard to believe the guy could get a girl? It kinda hurt his feelings, but he definitely didn’t let it show.

“How the hell do you have a girlfriend and I don’t?” Tanaka, out of all people, really just asked that question. Kageyama’s face falls in annoyance as if the answer to that is obvious, which it kinda is. “Maybe cause girls see the way you drool over Kiyoko and get scared. Or maybe it’s the buzz cut.” Baldy is fuming now, but holds him self back.

“If any of you ask me a weird question i’ll serve a ball to your face.”

They leave the boy alone after that, but your face is unquestionably still racing through their minds.

[kissypoets]

Liability (Reprise)

In which Harry panics about getting mobbed while out for dinner with you and tries to make up for his mistake. 

a/n: hihihi omg... this is my first time posting my work on here [ or anywhere, actually ] so please be kind. this was inspired by the song liability (reprise) by lorde!!! was listening to it and this idea just came to me and I really loved how it turned out and really wanted to share. I hope you enjoy :] !!

Word Count: 6, 543

Harry unbuttons his sheer dress shirt, blowing out a puff of air as his chest and stomach relaxes due to being released from the tight space. He folds the sleeves up to his forearms, inked skin being exposed to the cool air in his quiet bedroom, the dimmed iridescent light making his tattoos vivid and clearer than ever before on his tan skin. All the jogging Harry has done at the beach has certainly paid off. His skin was glowing in golden hue, highlighted parts burnt and sunkissed to perfection, leaving a darkened red tone that made him even more captivating. This has always managed to strengthen Harry’s external confidence, finding extra comfort in his tattoos becoming more visible knowing that they covered a part of him he couldn’t imagine exposing bare and blank. 

Silence surrounds him as he tears his eyes away from his arm, sitting down on the edge of his bed and letting out another large exhale. 

It hasn’t been a great night for him and the fact that he has to come home in a massive space that was filled with nothing but eerie silence certainly makes it worse. He was hoping to stay out all night with you but the moment people got a hold of his whereabouts, he knew better than to sit still and wait for the chaos to slap him in the face. Instead, he rushed both of you outside the restaurant and worry has taken over him completely to the point where taking you home seemed like the best idea to keep you away from the hysteria. You had hoped he was thinking of a more secluded place to bring you to, but when he said you should go, you swallowed the thickening lump in your throat and just nodded your head, trying your best to be understanding of the situation. 

He felt beyond stupid thinking about it now. Enraged, dismay and dejected doesn’t even cover the feeling in his gut. Harry was disappointed in himself more than anything, feeling like he’d let you down just within months of being together. 

Settling his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, his fingers rubbed his temples due to the pain that was starting to flourish in his dome. He could have done so many things in order to prolong the night and make an effort in your guys' relationship, yet he let the intense fret win him over, causing panic in his brain and feeling like he had no choice but to take you home. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mutters under his breath as he clasps his hands and pressed it hard against his forehead, “you could have taken her here and cooked a lovely dinner, you dimwit.” 

Harry also knew he could’ve been the one to keep you safe tonight. If he was going to cause mayhem in your life, the least he could do was bring you some sort of consolation and protect you from all of it. 

He feels so beyond disappointed in himself that the ache in his head has started to squeeze his cranium, agonizing pain rushing through every vein in his body. He was so tired of this continuously happening to everyone important in his life. Even though he loves what he does and feels such vigorous happiness and triumph from it, he still looks at it as a miniscule disadvantage for all his friends, family and partner. If Harry kept tabs on how many times the media and a large crowd has hurt the most important people in his life, then he’ll have an endless stack of it collecting dust in a separate room in his large residence. 

Harry takes a few more deep breaths until his shaking ceases, doing what he was instructed by his therapist when needing to calm his anxiety and getting rid of the trepidation forming in the pit of his stomach and on the deep end of his throat. He swallows thickly and straightens his back, inhaling and exhaling one last time. 

Calling you to explain himself and checking in on how you were doing was the right thing to do right now. He reaches in his pockets, pulling out his phone and instantly putting you on dial. He has your number memorized and favorited in his contacts, the bold font of his nickname for you listed first on the section. 

The phone rang once, twice, then four more times before it went straight to voicemail. It didn’t even vex him, he just stayed on the line and listened to your sweet voice echo through his ear drums, savoring every syllable that left your mouth. You sounded like how it felt to touch velvet, or the feeling of bliss that rushes through him whenever he finishes a song. You felt good, you sounded good. 

A wave of calmness hits his body, the frustration and disappointment in him halting for a second as he focuses on your saccharine voice, “hey! So sorry for not being able to pick up your call. Chances are I’m sleeping or completely engulfed by a book. I promise to get back to you as soon as possible. Hope you’re well, bye!’

When the line cuts off, Harry looks at his phone screen, enthralled by the brief message. He wasted no time dialing your number again, standing up to pace around the room when worry creeps back in his abdomen. Hands settled on his hip, he bites his lip as he waits in vehement anticipation for you to greet him through the phone. But after several rings, it leads to your voicemail again and he’s left even more concerned. 

“Fuck,” he tilts his head back and closes his eyes, shoving one of his hand inside his pants to bring some comfort in his physique, “one more call.”

The airconditioning in the room roared loudly, coming to life and blowing soft, cool air from the ceiling. Harry’s forgotten that he still had his dress shirt on, opened wide on the center and exposing his abdominal muscles and the large butterfly inked on the center of it looking glorious and fresh. The ventilation blew air right on his skin and he can feel the hair rising due to the coldness, not helping the nervousness that was already swallowing the entirety of his stomach.

He continued pacing as the line rings, his breathing in sync with each pause. He wasn’t entirely sure anymore if you’d pick up at all, but when the ringing stopped and there were seconds of silence, he looked at his screen and noticed the time stamp going. 

He stopped in the middle of his bedroom and pressed the phone back to his ears, certain you’ve picked up. The knot on his stomach tightened and his chest started beating rapidly, palms sweating inside the pockets of his slacks. He wanted you to pick up but after already failing to hear from you twice, he wasn’t expecting it on the third call.

“Baby?” Harry calls. There was some groaning.

“No idea who the fuck this is, but some of us are trying to sleep, mate,” a deep voice rings through his drums, tiredness and sleepiness evident. Harry’s stomach drops as he stares at the wall in front of him. A male? 

Harry’s head starts racing and he swallows a thick ball of swelling anxiety in his throat. He can feel his breathing becoming uneven. He checks the screen of his phone again, making sure that he called the right person. After seeing your nickname still typed out neatly and boldly on the front, he feels a quarter of relief. He shouldn’t think the absolute worst because it could be anyone. Harry has earned multiple different titles under the category of being overly jealous and he admits that it turns him into an arrogant son of a bitch, but he just really couldn’t help it. He wants to be the only one. 

“Hellooooo?” the voice on the other end startles him out of his thoughts and he focuses back on the call. The man sighs when Harry doesn't answer. “Look, you’ve called three times on her phone while she was passed out on the couch. She’s in the shower now and I’ll let her know that a--hang on--” he looks at his screen, “that a Harry rang, cool?”

Whoever answered your phone didn’t even bother to wait for Harry to agree, he just hung up and did as he said. 

The grip on Harry’s phone tightened without control, his eyes starting to water due to the intense stare he gave his wall. Shower? Why were you so tired beforehand? Who was that? Why, why, why… Multiple questions raced through his brain and he rushed to sit at the end of his bed. You’re too good and you’d never do anything to hurt him like this, he knows that. Or does he? His jealousy is getting the best of him and he senses it. He does his breathing exercises again as he waits patiently to hear from you this time. 

The airconditioning starts to die down, the noise it was making starting to decrease and heat starts to radiate throughout Harry’s body. He wasted no time ripping his dress shirt off, fully exposing his toned thorax, muscles flexing due to his nervous breathing and brood. 

You’ve mentioned Effy to him multiple times before, considering the amount of interesting stories you’ve told him about your drunken nights together and spontaneous trips; stories he’s certainly loved hearing and continues to anticipate whenever you’re together. He knew that she was your only roommate, that she’s enthralled by women and that you haven’t mentioned any guy friends yet. He even remembers correctly that you’re the only child, your family living across the globe and that the closest thing you have to a relative here in Los Angeles is Effy, no brother and no cousins. 

Harry tries not to continue overthinking but he’s really shit in that department. It’s one of the many traits that he despises the most in himself, knowing that his past relationships had gone wrong because of it and he refuses to let that happen again. 

Thank god his thoughts were cut off when his phone starts to ring and vibrate on his hand, the same nickname you’ve become accustomed to shining brightly on his phone screen. He stands up from his bed and quickly answers, “hello? Hi. I’m--”

“Harry,” you sigh in relief at the sound of his voice. He doesn’t know that you’ve been expecting a call for over two hours now since he dropped you home, “hi, baby. Are you okay? Finn said--”

“Finn. Is he-- who is he, exactly?” You notice a tint of vulnerability in his voice. 

Harry looks down at his feet that were covered in baby pink socks, a hand on his hip while he waits for you to answer. He hopes he didn’t sound pathetic asking that. He felt ridiculous enough as it is and absolutely stupid for not asking about your wellbeing first. He was about to retract and take it back but you’ve managed to chuckle through the phone before answering and Harry bites his lip.

“Effy’s brother. He’s got a research trip down in San Diego so he’s here for a visit. Sorry for however he acted over the phone. I promise he’s a great guy,” you say, “how are you? I so badly wanted to call but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk especially because of what happened at Perch.”

You were always so honest and straightforward with your thoughts. Harry loves that so much about you. Somehow, it boosts his confidence even more whenever he’s around you and he’s never afraid to speak his mind and act however he wants. What he lacks in being able to communicate properly with his partners you make up for in the relationship and he was more than grateful. 

“I’m fine. I’m,” Harry pauses for a second before exhaling and changing his words, “I’m not fine actually. I miss you and I’m so terribly sorry for dismissing you. It wasn’t your fault, I swear, I’m just an arse.” 

He continues before you can disagree, “I got nervous. That was the first time that’s ever happened while I was with you and I didn’t want it to change anything between us. I didn’t want you to feel differently. I want you now. I mean… I want you to come over now. I want to cook dinner for you and make up for what happened.”

Harry’s heart starts to beat even faster against his chest as he admits his feelings in accurate words. He’s aware how late it is already and you probably have classes tomorrow but he’s hoping you’ll agree anyway so he can fix a wasted and ravaged night. He also thinks he can persuade you into wanting to stay, the need to hold and kiss you intensifying the more he thinks about it. He wants to show you just how sorry he is. He wants you to forgive him and let him show you just how important you are to him. He wants to make you his favorite homemade meal and demonstrate his outrageous skills in bed, which you have been pining for and missing so much. 

You were about to answer but he cuts you off once more. You smile slightly as you listen to him speak, “fuck. How are you? How are you feeling? Sorry.”

“Deep breaths, please? You sound really nervous and you have no reason to be, it’s just me,” you have no idea how nervous you make him and how much he worries about you, but he refrains from saying it out loud, not wanting to speak over you again. “I’m bummed about what happened because I really wanted to have a lovely dinner with you but I also understand. I understand and I feel better now that I’m hearing your voice. You have nothing to apologize for, Harry.”

“I do,” he mutters and toys with his belt, eyes still on the floor, “if it weren’t for me, no crowd would have showed up and we would still be sitting on that rooftop with a nice glass of extremely expensive wine. They’ll have no choice but to kick us out.”

You giggle and the sound makes Harry’s anxiety melt away. The tension in his muscles starts to soften and his heart starts to slow down, instantly feeling healed. 

Harry looks up and his lips finally curl on its sides, dimples popping out on both of his cheeks and he feels more than relieved. He had no doubts about you understanding the unfortunate circumstance but he was one to always need validation and he feels undeniably reassured by your simple words, and even just the sound of your laugh.

At times, strange happenings like that would commence an argument with his exes. Looking back at it now, it was very odd to him considering he had no control over it. Plus he trusts his fans enough and knows that they wouldn’t do anything to put him and his loved ones in danger. Though mobs happen, he’s aware that they will never cross a line that damages his respect for them. 

But you discepher and accept it, without him having to beg you to or explain to you. Another reason why he’s so enamored by you. You just know. 

“Yeah, that would have been lovely. But we can always go another time. I saw you today and it was enough for me,” you replied. Harry’s cheeks tightens as he smiles wider, dimples deepening and crinklers appearing beside his eyes. He feels himself flush because of your words and he crunches his nose to calm himself. 

“We can try again tonight,” he brings his suggestion back into the conversation, “so, will you come? I can pick you up, I don’t mind.”

You frown. “I’d love to but, it’s almost eleven, classes tomorrow and Effy--”

“Please, darling?” Harry begs, sitting down on his bed again. He hears you inhale upon hearing the sudden word of endearment and he grins. He knows how much you love it when he calls you random pet names, but mostly the sweetest ones that will have you turning into goo. 

“God, you’re good,” you admit and tilt your head back, laughing quietly. Harry’s grin grows, “fine. But I can drive myself.”

“No,” he butts in. “I can pick you up. It’s just a twenty minute drive.”

It was a tactic. Harry figured that if you didn’t have your vehicle with you then you will be more likely to stay. But he knows that he’ll cave in on driving you back anyway if you really wanted to go home for the night.

“Harry,”

“Honey,” he throws in another nickname. You inhale. He smiles.

“Fine,” you say in defeat. 

Harry’s heart almost leaps out of his chest in triumph and excitement; the fact that he’s seeing you again tonight lit up something in him. He’s grateful that you can’t see the  idiotic smile he’s sporting right now, otherwise his body will flush in humiliation and you’ll tease him about it all night. Little does he know, you’ve got the same look on your beautiful face, also thankful that he couldn’t see you. You’re both a mirrorball to each other’s life, lighting one another up in a way that you’ve both always craved. 

“See you then, baby,” he says.

___

Due to the lack of traffic, Harry was able to make it in your apartment complex in just under 15 minutes. Mulholland Drive was packed as usual but it still didn’t prevent him from arriving too late. Dressed in black joggers and a black hoodie, curls tied up in a black scrunchie and pushed back in a red bandana, he looked absolutely cozy and at ease. 

The brief conversation between the two of you over the phone has brought him slight serenity. He’s still hoping to somehow bring it up tonight and apologize once more knowing what he said through the phone wouldn’t be enough. And he also wants to put his compelling abilities in bed to good use as a way to show you how sorry he was, if you’ll let him. 

He adjusts the cool air that left his car’s ventilation, making sure it wasn’t too warm nor too cold once you get in the car. He stares at the open space of your building, waiting for you to come down through the stairs while exhilaration rushes through every vein in his body. 

Harry feels absolutely nonsensical because of how much he misses you despite seeing you hours ago. A minute, hour, day or weeks even, will never be enough time and he’s fully aware of that. But thinking about everything he wants to do with you just brings back the same intolerable thoughts; getting mobbed, harassed and surrounded by hundreds of people even if you’re just having dinner in a public restaurant together. He suddenly starts to feel unsettled, desperately needing you to show up within his sight already so he can forget about everything and just focus on you and taking care of you, which is what he has started to love doing most.

Just in time, before Harry’s thoughts can get darker and deeper, he catches you walking carefully down the stairs looking irresistible as always. Your hair was in a low bun, bits of hair falling loose around your face while you sported a lovely white frock dress and matching fluffy slippers. 

His whole face lights up in jubilation, mouth almost hurting due to how big his smile was and the wild elation in him sharpens. Harry chuckles as soon as you get in the car, more than delighted to see you. Your scent engulfs him in a wild wave, the air conditioning circulating it throughout his car and he didn’t mind it one bit. He hopes that it would stay in there forever, surrounding him to bring a sense of tranquility. 

“Hi, sweet girl,” he greets you, wasting no time and leaning forward to catch your soft lips with his. He feels you take a deep breath and you can feel his smile against you, his hands coming up to stroke your cheeks. Your shock is evident when you laugh quietly while his lips continue to tackle yours, cupping his jaw as you kiss him back and Harry slowly melts due to the feeling. His body slumps from where he sat, savoring your taste and marking you with his. 

You pull back, pecking him lightly once more before greeting him back, “hi, handsome.”

His body heats up as he leans back in his seat and starts driving, “cool enough in here for you?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you answer, putting your seatbelt on. “How was the drive?”

“It was fine, no traffic so we’ll be home in no time,” he says, catching a quick glance at you while you fixate your eyes on the road, “you look beautiful, by the way. Love the dress.”

Your breathing changed for a second upon hearing the word home, but you chose to ignore it. Instead, you smile lovingly at him, your hands reaching out to lightly massage the back of his head. He hums at the soothing feeling. 

“Thank you, baby,” you reply, a tint of blush creeping up your cheeks. “I missed you.”

Harry feels his body heat up at your confession. He has no idea why you have this much of an effect on him but he loves it. He feels utterly loved and happy, which is something he hasn’t felt in awhile and always wanted to have. Instead of saying it back, he teases you, “sod off, you just saw me hours ago. Clingy much?” 

You look over at him in slight surprise, not missing the humor behind his words. He glances at you sideways, lips tilted up in a smirk and his eyebrow lifted jokingly. You pull your hand away and cross your arms over your chest, “you know what, yes, absolutely. I can’t get enough of you.”

Harry didn’t expect you to say that so when you notice his face getting flushed and serious, you couldn’t help but giggle. His whole body went rigid for a couple of seconds, eyes still focused on the road. Instead of answering, his hand reaches towards your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze to show his appreciation. His thumb brushes against your skin a couple of times and he feels it get bumpy, hairs rising because of how good it was making you feel. Harry grins to himself, perceiving the effect he had on you and completely enjoying it. 

You put your hands on top of his, feeling the warm veins against your palm and you look out the window, watching the bright lights pass by. 

Harry loves going on drives with you as much as you do with him. He hates it that his radio was old and wouldn’t work, but he also refuses to get it fixed. He finds comfort in the silence within the confined space and also enjoys the way the noise outside surrounds him. He loves it even more when you’re on the passenger seat experiencing the therapeutic moment with him. Knowing that he can be with you in comfortable silence gave him a lot of hope in your relationship. 

Minutes pass by and only a couple of miles are left until you reach his beautiful Malibu home. Harry remembers the elephant in the room, his chest tightening upon the thoughts of what brought you two in this situation in the first place. Should he address it now or wait until you both get to his house? There’s never really a right time and he knows that. He wasn’t even sure if it was something you want to talk about or if you wanted to ignore the whole thing and instead continue on to have a peaceful time together. 

But, you were just patiently waiting for him to address it. You knew that if you brought it up, it’ll make him uncomfortable and he’ll start blaming himself. It was an admission in his part that you certainly want to avoid. The thought of him feeling like he puts you in a dangerous environment squeezes your heart so disturbingly that you can feel it all the way up your brain. You’ll get upset and he might assume the worst; when really, you just want him to understand that you know he can’t control it and that despite everything, you adore him and will never leave, unless, for unbeknown reasons and god forbid, he wants you to. 

“Almost there, love,” he cuts his own thoughts off, including yours, clueless about how in sync they were. You look over at him the same time he took a quick glance at you. He looks back at the road and whispers something about how pretty you are but it was so quiet you could barely hear it. 

Instead of acknowledging it, you put your hand back where it was on his hair and softly massage his scalp. You feel him lean back a tad, clearly finding peace in your touch. You bit your lip to keep yourself from saying those three words you didn’t know he wanted to say too, both of you too scared to admit and profess it out loud. 

_____

“Is there anything I should be doing?” you ask Harry from where you sat in his kitchen, a glass of extremely expensive red wine in your hand. He wanted to open a bottle of Ichiro’s Malt, hoping that it’ll make up for the ones you both could’ve had at Perch. 

He twists his body slightly to look at you, answering in the sweetest tone, “nope. Sit there and look pretty, that’s all. I’m making this for you.” 

Harry looks absolutely handsome, striking and sexy from where he stood, chopping a bunch of vegetables like it was his professionalism. He’s changed to a plain black shirt, the material hugging his toned body perfectly and emphasizing the muscles on his arm, back and stomach. He even had a dish towel thrown over his shoulder, adding to the whole look. You sipped your wine as you continued to stare, noticing the way his body is flexing as he moves and his tattoos moving along on his skin. You sighed, feeling so lucky. 

You decided to walk over to him to catch a glimpse of what he was doing. Harry has certainly mastered the art of cooking; having been able to experience life in Italy, he had acquired the new skill flawlessly. It’s something he’s always wanted to be better at, considering the only thing he knew how to make was his grandfather’s special sandwich recipe and god only knows how tired people are of eating it. 

Harry feels your presence beside him as you lean back against the smooth counter, sipping your wine. He looks over at you as he cuts the food, holding an admirable smile on his face. He loves having you here. He loves being this close to you, knowing that you’re within his sight and he was able to be unapologetically affectionate without the judgemental eyes and words of the public. 

He speaks when you look back at him with a shine in your eyes, “how’s the wine?”

“Hm, tastes like money,” you say jokingly. He laughs at your answer and you smiled so wide at the sight of his head slightly thrown back, white and perfectly aligned teeth showing with his nose scrunched up. 

“I have no doubt about that,” he says, looking back down at the cutting board.

The bottle costs roughly around twenty thousand dollars, more if you count it in pounds. But he chooses not to say it. Instead he asks about your day, as he usually would every single time he sees you or talks to you over the phone, “how was your day? Any progress in your thesis?” 

Your ears perk up at the question about your dissertation. Harry has always been interested in it and you fail to understand the fascination. You’ve asked why before and he always admits that it was something that matters to him too, but you feel like that isn’t a good enough reason to be rapted in a boring essay by a grad student. 

He tremendously admires the fact that you’ve continued your studies to get a masters in English. He envies it and he wishes he had taken your footsteps. But Harry is so beyond proud of you and just the thought of you becoming a famous novelist like you’ve always wanted makes him feel over the moon. You deserve nothing but good things and he can’t wait until you finish uni and finally build your self publishing pursuit.

“A lot of progress which I’m so relieved about. Remember when we read Course of Love together? I annotated it in the process and a lot of the quotes really came in handy for my essay,” you tell him, “I’ve reached probably eighty-nine pages and we only needed to write a hundred, but I’m aiming for one-fifty, max.” 

“Always pushing yourself to work harder than you need to,” Harry says with a soft smile on his face. He starts to mix his ingredients together in the pan on the stove and you watch him work his magic cautiously, “but that’s really good, love. I’m proud of you. I know you’re gonna kick ass and everyone else's thesis will suck.” 

“Oh, without a doubt,” you nod teasingly. You’re actually really nervous about it and he knows that. But you’ve mentioned before that talking about it doesn’t really help calm you so Harry doesn’t take the conversation further than that, “what about you? How was your day? Wrote anything new?”

Harry shakes his head and looks over at you as he starts to shake the pan to mix whatever was on it, “you haven’t even told me how your day was, babe.”

“Crap, sorry,” you have a habit of completely disregarding certain parts of a conversation. He found it adorable most of the time but when it came to arguments or discussions between the two of you about serious topics, it vexed him to no end. He remembers you missing the whole point of your conversations sometimes and he loathed it then, “one of my professors ditched today so I only had one class. Took a lot of naps after lunch which was nice then-- then whatever happened at Perch. My day was alright.”

You try to soften a part of your answer with the last statement but it was very clear Harry didn’t miss it. He looks over at you for a quick second and you sipped your wine to avoid eye contact. 

You didn’t mean anything by it. It happened today and he was asking about today so you decided to slip it in there in honor of your promises to always be honest, free-spoken and up front with one another. It didn’t necessarily ruin your day, it was just simply dejecting and unlike anything you’ve had to deal with before. But you’re with him now and he’s cooking you something that already smelled absolutely delicious so you were willing to look past it. But Harry couldn’t and you knew that. 

He lowers the heat on the stove to keep the food sizzling but not to the point where it’ll burn. He wipes his hands with the towel on his shoulder before approaching you with an unreadable expression on his face. You lean back further against the counter as his hand guides your arms to wrap around his neck, putting his hands on your waist and squeezing affectionately. He stares deep into your eyes and you wondered how he was so good with that; how it didn’t make him look nervous despite being the shyest person that you know. 

Softly, he speaks, “I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry about that. I’m a dick.”

Mirth creeps into your eyes at his last word and your lips unintentionally curls on its side.  He has no idea why you started smiling but he did too. He feels you interlock your fingers against his skin as you answer him, “the way you say dick is really amusing. But you aren’t and you have nothing to apologize for. You have no control over it.” 

You’re so humorous and he loves it so much. He loves you. “I am a dick and I will apologize because even if I can’t control it, I’m still the reason why it happens. The way I acted afterwards was very irrational too. Just admit it, I’m a dick.” 

“If I agree, will you stop apologizing and calling yourself that?”

“Yes,”

“Fine, you’re a dick,”

“I know and I’m sorry,” he smiles at you. 

You squint your eyes as his whole face beams, your hands squeezing his face and squishing his skin, “cheeky.”

He laughs and pulls you closer to him, “come here, baby.” 

Your noses touch as he leans down to get closer to your face, his lips barely touching yours. Whenever he inhales, your engrossing scent engulfs his nostrils and it brings him great comfort. Your hands cup his jaw, thumb caressing his cheeks as he opens his mouth once more, “I mean it. I regret taking you home and acting the way I did. I should’ve apologized right there and then. I should’ve taken you here and found a way to make the night better but I’m trying to make up for it now. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me in a really fucking long time and I don’t want things to change because you finally got a glimpse into another part of my life. I won’t let anything happen to you, please know that, but it will get worse. Mobs happen and it’s horrifying at times.” 

It’s something that really worries Harry and you see it take over his whole figure. His face shows vivid perturb and his body has become slightly tensed from his words. It’s true; it will get worse and when you witness it, you will be horrified. It’s something Harry has always had to worry about before making the decision to fully commit to someone. It’s affected his past relationships abdominably and he doesn’t want the same thing happening between the two of you. Like he said, you’re far too important to him and for something as riotous as this to come in between that will be heart shattering and utterly painful. This was his life, it will always be like this and if you can’t accept nor understand that, then who will? He only wants you. 

You have no idea what to say, eyes boring straight into his pale irises, clear brood written all over it. Your thumb continues to massage his skin which slightly soothes Harry’s tensed muscles and he’s worried about what will come out of your mouth. He leans back a little to read your face but your mind is so empty that the only thing you can utter really was, “I love you and I’m here for as long as you want me to, okay?”

Your words made Harry lean back further out of reflex, a sharp intake of air filling his lungs upon hearing your revelation. The sudden realization of what you just blurted out forced your eyes shut, hands covering your face in slight embarrassment. You weren’t ashamed that you said it, you were just scared whether or not he felt the same way. You hear Harry laugh and you peak out of your fingers, making him laugh harder. You take your hands off to playfully scold him, your skin saturated with redness, “oh god! Will you stop? I love you and I’m not scared to say it. Nothing’s funny about that.”

Harry chuckles some more, making his way forward to you again and takes your hand in his. He wraps it back around his neck, leaning down to take a good look at you. 

His heart is beating so fast in his chest and he was so happy that he didn’t even care if you could hear it. He’s been wanting to say the same three words to you every single time he’s with you; even when he’s just admiring you while you read a book or watching a movie, or when the two of you are simply hanging out and talking. He catches the obvious adoration in your bearing and always notices the twinkle in your eyes when you look at him. He hopes he’s been showing it as well because there’s no better feeling than loving you and he wants you to know that. 

You shy away from his stare and he titters. He tilts your chin up, teeth on full display on his face while his cheeks deepen into dimples, “you love me?”

“Yes,” your noses touch and you sigh. “I’ve said it like twice already and you, zero times.” You poke his chest in a light hearted manner.

“Actually, you just couldn’t take the hint before,” he teases you. “I thought it was very clear that I love you.” 

You bite your lip to keep your smile from widening and you close your eyes momentarily before locking eyes with him again. He scrunches his nose to keep himself from becoming too joyful because of the exchange between the two of you. You tease him back, “you’re just doing a shit job at showing it, that’s all.”

Harry gasps at your comeback and wraps both of his arms around you without hesitancy, squeezing you as tight as he can and lifting you gently off of the floor. You laugh so loud that his ears perked up at the sound, making his heart beat rapidly and somehow faster than it has ever done before.

He loves you. And you love him back. There wasn’t any doubt about it between the two of you, it was just a matter of finding the right moment to admit it at last to each other. And what better moment is there than this one in the kitchen, where the food on the stove is at its edge of burning without the two of you even noticing. 

Harry puts you back down on the floor and both of you catch your breath. You took the lead this time and grabbed his face, smashing your lips against his. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grasps the back of your neck with one hand and the other softly cupping your jaw. He smiles against you and you feel it, butterflies forming in your stomach as you tangle your fingers in his soft curls. He kisses you so deep, hard, full of love and savors your taste like there was no tomorrow. You feel his hand start to crawl up to grip bits of your hair but before you can let it get further than that, you pull back and you both inhale so loud it erupted an echoing chuckle. 

“Food’s gonna burn, babe,” you tell him, breathing hard.

“I’m so in love with you,” he simply says back.