#and all of the decisions he made were good

[tojisun]

immoral in a stranger’s lap (WIP)

established price x f!reader; poly!141 x f!reader

cw: smut - mdni; switching povs; older men x younger women trope; so much speedrun yearning from the squad; john calling the ‘shots’ and shots being reader; power dynamics at play // 2.6k words

extra notes: filing this as WIP wednesday because i could no longer find the inspiration to finish it. i have a concrete idea of how i wanted it to go but writing it became so difficult, still hope it’s a good read! (title from gibson girl - ec)

Captain has a pretty darling—apparently she’s doe-eyed and young. 

She packs him food when she can and always writes him letters, dainty envelopes spritzed with perfume and sealed with wax and baby’s breaths. 

They always sit atop every other sealed envelopes because the rookies are afraid of damaging the package. No one can really blame them, not after seeing the extent of care and love put into a single parcel. Apparently, she writes to their Captain even when she has a burner to use to contact him; choosing to, instead, fill up envelopes with a love so sweet it makes their teeth ache. 

Captain has a pretty darling—that’s the news that’s been circulating around the base recently, cascading through the gaps of their barracks and settling into the corners of their own rooms. The knowledge of normalcy pierces against the hard-set routine that sustained them through the years, and fills their jowls with their own yawning desire.

Because now they know it’s achievable. Liveable. Guilt no longer races through their veins when they dream about the idea of settling and, instead, they lean into the want yowling from the bases of their stomach. It makes them twitch, leaving them feeling too hyper-aware of everything. 

Hunger swirls from their irises and they watch, on the sidelines, as their Captain submerges himself in the one good thing he has. They refuse to name the new feeling, the one rising from their desires, but it is futile—it bloats, leaving them gritting their teeth and clenching their jaws as though by doing so, they could stop the venom. 

They couldn’t. Jealousy sings in their blood.

-

They were startled by the invitation, frozen in their steps when the Captain extended his home to them—“My baby wants to get to know my friends.”

His smile was kind, gentle, the years having made him brighter, but his eyes—the look in them is cold, calculating. Dangerous on all fronts. There was a beast lying in waiting and its presence bore down on them, the siren sounds of a threat ringing because this one was greater than them all.

“Alright,” Ghost replied, the first to get his voice back.

“Great,” their Captain said, then he was off, hand fishing his burner from his pocket to call his pretty darling. His beautiful sweetheart.

‘My baby’ he said. 

And now, they get to meet you. 

Their gums ached with the phantom desire to bite; to have their teeth digging into flesh—not tearing fully but puncturing enough to mark. To taste.

Their eyes met, their blood thrumming with singularity, and their excitement palpable as it left them in tethers. Because there was much to be said about the mutual desire; how it rippled amidst them all, now noticed by their Captain and invited to play. 

-

The quaint little house lives on the outskirts of the city, not really detached but far enough to know that this was a conscious decision carved out by their Captain. 

It has a huge front lawn from inside the white picket fence, littered with a well-tended garden full of shrubs and flowers and stone plants. Their trained eyes flit to the hanging entryway sign—“Home Sweet Home”—and to the small baby’s breath wreath tacked underneath the plank, and feel viscous nectar slide down their throats. 

It’s all so domestic, so gentle, that a strange feeling settles deep in their stomachs, their steadied steps dying down to shuffles as their boots crunch against the gravel. They feel like intruders, even when they have yet to set foot inside their Captain’s home. Their mission-trained bodies are stark against this place, which oozes with comfort and flowery scents so delicate it makes their blood jump.

Simon takes the lead again, herding the pack in silence. He raps his knuckles against the well-loved door, sharp knocks bouncing from the wood. Soap and Gaz are both quiet behind him, and they are all tense in their reluctant patience. 

It seemed like now that you are close—just a door away—they no longer know how to leash the desire lapping at their feet; ears straining, mouth dry. The hunger scratches at their throats, ragged. Angry. 

(It had taken weeks when their Captain finally reached out again with a date and a location, disclosing the details in a way he always did for missions. It had grounded them for a while, bodies locking the way they do when their Captain barked out orders—his expectations pushing them to their limits, their mind geared into a focal point. 

“Be kind,” he said, lighting a cigarette.

Gaz ran his tongue on the back of his teeth, head tilting at the sudden twitch from Soap.

“‘Course,” the Sergeant replied with a grin, one that was a bite too big. “We always are.”

Their Captain hummed, eyeing Johnny with a pensive look. Kyle looked away, hoping to melt into the background to avoid any more of their Captain’s playful teasing. 

Then, Kyle met their Lieutenant's eyes, wide and rabid, and saw his desire leaking from his pores. His fists were balled, leather gloves straining against the force, and Kyle felt a shiver rack his body at seeing the tangible excitement coming from Simon.

It was so huge, it felt daunting. Addicting.)

Their fingers twitch at the sound of the door’s lock clicking—something they catalogue—before it swings open. 

Johnny’s shoulders tense up, his breath getting stuck in his throat at the morbid anticipation burning through him. Simon’s bulk is hiding the view, a solid wall between him and you, but Johnny waits, sees the way their Lieutenant’s gait changes, and knows he needs to be good. 

“Oh! You must be John’s friends!” 

Simon devours the sight you make, razing his eyes down your form, noting the fine details of domesticity that you’re clothed in—all soft and flowy material that brings out the shine in your eyes as you look up at him, head tipped up to account for the ridiculous height difference.

Something glints in his peripheral—

“Yeah,” he hears himself say. “It's nice to finally meet you.”

A diamond ring.

-

Their Captain introduces you to them, cinnamon in his eyes and his words honeyed. Your name settles on the tip of their tongues, waiting to be digested. To be sounded out by their own voices.

Simon murmurs it to himself, feels the word sliding between the cracks of his teeth like milk, and gulps it down, starving. It fuels him, this little piece he now has of you, and sets him ablaze as you flutter between them with gentle questions and quiet giggles.

You are soft—too soft for any of them, in fact—but they can see why their Captain is enamoured, his own desire greater than their own. It is intense as it scalds down their spines and jagged because their Captain isn’t a good man, they all aren’t, but there is something disconcerting in the way their Captain had claimed you. 

It was rushed, sweet to a fault, but done so rapidly it felt like a beast pouncing on its prey. Like their Captain had seen the beauty of your soul and decided, then, that you’re all his.

Simon washes down the taste of defeat in his mouth with his whiskey, mentally dedicating this drink to his Captain because he knows he would’ve done the same. He would’ve kept you in a home just as cozy; would've played house with you to distract you from the foulness of his virtues because kindness, civilian to that extent, can become so foreign to them now. He would keep you full of him, satiated with his presence and dripping with his cum—

“Sweetheart, c'mere.” Their Captain’s voice pierces the staccato of his thoughts. Simon twitches, suppressing the full-body jolt because there’s something measured in the way their Captain called you. 

They watch as you pad towards him with a hum, a bounce in your steps, before reaching to cup his cheek the moment you get close. 

“Hi,” you murmur, a breath too quiet.

Their Captain chuckles, basking in your warmth, before curling an arm around your waist and tugging you to his lap. You fall with a little gasp, your hand tight on Price’s shirt as your eyes swing to them in surprise.

“John, they–” 

Price kisses the back of your shoulder, fixing his arm over your stomach. “They won’t mind.” Dark eyes turn to them too. “Would you, boys?”

They feel parched; thirst palpable in the way they have their jaws clenched, their tongues heavy inside their mouths. They devour the pretty sight you make—all bashful looks and hunched shoulders, looking so utterly soft, so charmingly fragile, atop their Captain’s lap.

It sets off their base instincts, their desires ravaging their sanities.

“No,” Gaz is surprisingly the one to reply. His voice was smooth and clear, bouncing against the walls with surety. “Don’t mind at all.”

There must be something in the way Gaz was looking at you or perhaps you were also able to hear the unabashed want coating his words, but whatever it was, it made you sit up straighter, head tilted to the side, thinking. 

Considering.

It makes all of them jolt, even Price feels a stirring inside his jeans at the sudden shift in your posture, because this changes everything.

It was not that they would be satisfied with only having a look, with only seeing what they want and pretending that their thoughts—dirty and ragged and full of filth—are enough to satiate the fire stoking deep inside, but they didn’t want to set off their Captain.

They didn’t want to meet the beast inside the man’s eyes, and be further punished by having you be taken away from their reach. Because the moment they crossed that little door, the moment you smiled up at them and told them that they’re welcome in your quaint little home, in your space, you were theirs.

And their Captain would just have to deal with that.

But Price is already looking at them with crinkled eyes, his lips busy as it dragged all over the expanse of your shoulder, his palm gentle as it rubs over your stomach. 

Kyle takes it for what it is—a permission.

-

Johnny fists his cock, muffling his moans on the back of his palm, remembering the way you looked. The way you smelled. 

All flowers and vanilla—it’s cliche yet so, so fitting. 

You were so curious, poking at Ghost’s tattoos and murmuring your awe at every revelation of their becoming, stories that were watered down because they didn’t want to scare you. They didn’t want to push you away.

You were so enamoured by them, all giggly when Garrick told you about his recent mission with the Captain and Laswell, pressing yourself to his space and vibrating in anticipation at every turn. Their Captain rumbled in laughter when you turned to him with a gasp, disbelief coating your voice as you whined, “John, you didn’t!”

There was that pride in your eyes when their Captain reassured you of their success, and you preened when he said, “We had to return to you, after all, baby.”

You got so quiet and shy, then. So docile, just like the precious darling that you are.

So it burned him when it had been his turn to receive your attention. 

“‘Soap’?” you asked, nose scrunching in that way that made him coo.

“Yeah, lassie. S’cool, huh?”

You were sitting so close, he could feel the heat from your thigh reverberating from where it was pressed to his. He breathed you in, slow and careful, and felt ablaze with the knowledge that everyone’s eyes were on you two.

Not only their Captain’s but Simon’s. Their Lieutenant whose growled promises ravaged his throat the night before, grunting and groaning, using Johnny’s skin as an alternative to yours. 

(“Imagine ‘er, Johnny.” He rutted forward, lips tickling the shell of Johnny’s ear. “Imagine ‘er so full of you.”

It had Johnny mewling, ragged gasps rasping between his clenched teeth because he could imagine it, alright.

He imagined the way you’d be stuffed—greedy holes gaping as you took their cocks and their cum. Their Captain would be there, Garrick too. Their Captain would fuck his own fist as he watched them take you apart with pleasure, and Garrick would have your mouth, his tip painting your lips with his pre- before fucking it down your throat.

“Fuck!” Johnny cried out, humping the mattress to get more stimulation; to feel better.

He imagined that he was rutting against your chest, sliding between the valley of your tits while Ghost took him from the back. He imagined the way you would watch them, enraptured amidst your pleasure because he knew you wanted a show. 

They always do.

“Cum for me, pup,” Ghost rumbled into his ear and Johnny’s body locked in obedience, intense euphoria seizing him whole.)

He cums with your name on his lips, rumbled in a way he hopes would drive you mad. Would make you desperate. 

Johnny wants to make a slut out of you. Strip your sweetness and tinge it with sin—show you what they say about men like him. Like them. He wants to take you, or whatever scraps their Captain gives them, because every inch and every part of you is too delectable.

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyeing the thick rivulets of cum pooling in his palm. 

What he would give to see you lick this clean.

-

“So, what’d you think of her?” Their Captain asks as he twirls his glass of bourbon, the alcohol sloshing carefully from inside the cup like liquid gold. It snags fractures of light, smothering the little glints with its every ripple.

Simon hums, distracted, his mind a gallery made up of all of the little bits and pieces he was able to snatch from that day in the quaint little house: the sound of your voice, the titter of your giggles, the way you looked up at him when he offered to help pluck out the cups stowed away in the highest shelves, before your lips danced into a grateful little smile, dimpling your cheeks and wrinkling your eyes.

You were everything he adored. The woman of his dreams, there, in the pretty little cage that their Captain has you in. 

“She's beautiful,” Ghost says, quiet. Honest. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, really.” 

It is in the stretching silence that follows that he picks up his own whiskey and pours it into his parched mouth to wash down the desire lodged in his throat. He doesn’t look at his Captain; he doesn’t want to be the one to ask.

He wants it to be offered; to be presented to him like the twisted blessing that it is. 

Simon wants to know if you would allow him. If you would allow all of them to have you too. 

Price huffs, his glass clinking against the table when he had put it down. Simon licks the back of his teeth as he waits, patience thrumming underneath his veins raggedly. He feels like a boy, waiting to be told that he’s done good; that his obedience is going to be rewarded lucratively. 

Price chuckles like he can read the thoughts churning in Simon’s mind.

“Not yet,” is all that their Captain replies. 

Not yet—it was not a rejection, then.

Simon burns, feeling the way such simple words sustain him. The idea that they were allowed to taste, not now, not yet, but soon, in that cage that you call a home.

[joemomrgneissguy]

via @iamthepulta

When I was around 13 or so, I got introduced to a friend to Christianity after being brought up in a mostly atheistic household. My parents had also just gotten divorced and my Dad had coincidentally decided that then was as good a time as any to start going to church again, and so would start taking us because we seemed interested in it.

As a pretty lonely kid with a big desire to fit in or have community, it was a formative time in my life, and I took to it quite quickly.

But the thing about a lot of evangelical spaces is, there is no room for nuance, and, perhaps more crucially, having doubts is seen as a crisis. If you are saved by faith alone, the thinking seemed to be that faith must be total and absolute.

For teenaged me, that meant not questioning things too much, at least not openly, and just accepting what was said at face value like anything I had learned in school up to that point. There were limits to this, like when my church brought in a guest speaker that claimed evolution wasn't real and that the dinosaurs had survived Noah's flood, but on the whole, I didn't have enough of a basis to dispute anything I was told.

Enter 'Mark'. Mark went to the same middle school as me and the same highschool I attended freshman year, and he was a really annoying and combative atheist. At some point he clocked that I was Christian, and he started arguing with me all the time. Most of it wasn't all that substantive. We were young teenagers, after all. But it often got heated, because how dare he question this stuff that is obvious truth?

I realize now that me getting into arguments with him so much was based out of a certain emotional immaturity, and a desire to justify to him and myself that I was right in making a decision that I myself was unsure of. It was performative, to an extent, so I didn't actually hate the guy when everything was said and done.

That beef died down after a year or so. The arguments were getting nowhere, and Mark turned out to be a pretty good guy with perhaps a bit of an antisocial streak. We started hanging out a bit more, and talking about things other than religion, and were eventually at least nominally friends.

This same thing played out with a friend that was Jewish, and another that was Mormon. This was all around that same time in my life. We bickered over things for a while, and then eventually religion just wasn't a factor in our relationship.

These pointless arguments made me realize the simple idea that arguing over religion, trying to convert people to your side, is ultimately a pointless endeavor because it is unprovable, and that I could just as easily be "wrong" with my beliefs. They had just as much 'evidence' as I did. So no matter how hard I 'believed' in this stuff, I just had to accept that some other people never would, and that's okay.

That is somewhat heretical in an evangelical context, since the whole idea is to evangelize, but it opened me up to there being space for other religions and belief systems in the world, and that they were comprised of good people who deserved nothing but love and respect.

This seed of openness and maturity was ultimately what allowed me to change when I moved for college, where I was exposed to stuff like the actual science behind evolution, friends who were LGBT, and programs challenging ideas of creationism.

I owe my life now to those conversations. My career, my friends, my outlook on life could have never occurred without them.

And it's why I now could never return to the same spaces I grew up with, because I can now see them for the toxic, hateful places they are.

I don't know how to navigate faith these days, but I am eternally grateful to "annoying" atheists in my life, and for the patience people had when I was still figuring myself out.

We need the obnoxious atheists back. I know they engineered their own destruction by being annoying and pretentious, but it has become apparent how essential to the ecosystem they were. The religious fanatics have become too bold without their natural predators. Jesus wojaks would have been torn to shreds in 2011.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: I need the weekend to come so I can cum

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"Things aren't too bad. Not since I got my ass kicked," Vaughn chortles. "Mighta knocked some sense into this thick skull at last."

"Hopefully," you agree. "Mom said--"

"I tried calling. She didn't pick up."

"Oh..."

"Why-- Why should I even bother?" His humour fades to hostility, "and why are you acting like you're my mother? When she does answer, she just calls me a fuck up. Like I don't fucking know."

"Vaughn," you hum, "please, I'm not trying to piss you off."

"But you are," he snarls. "Always gotta ruin a good time, don't ya?"

You frown. This is the Vaughn you don't know. The one with the anger like a grenade pin. One tug and it's over. You sit back and wait. Arguing only fuels the flames.

"You're the one person who's s'posed to believe in me and you're nagging me about mom," he snarls.

You look away guiltily. You wonder how he'd react if you told him about Steve. If you mentioned that the reason things 'aren't too bad' is because you did something just as stupid as him. Somehow, you don't think that him knowing you do dumb stuff too will help.

He tugs at his cuffs. The guards come forward. You say his name again.

"Vaughn, please--"

"Piss off! Yeah, you meat head, get me outta here," he turns his wrath on the guard. "Waste of my time."

"Please, I didn't-- I just--"

"I told you not to talk about it no more," he barks. He did. You didn't listen.

Your eyes well. You don't know what happened to him. Where did all this anger come from? As you watch the guards unhook him and he stomps away, you can only think you may have made a good decision talking to Steve. At least there's someone in there who can help. Or try to.

You wiggle your nose and dab your eyes with your knuckle. That was embarrassing as much as it was scary. The guard on the other side returns.

"We'll bring the next early, miss."

"Thanks," you nod. You recognise him. You realise most of the guards must know your face too. It's so strange to think this is a normal part of your life now. That this has become your social life as late.

It isn't long before Steve appears. He sits calmly lets himself be leashed. He leans forward and takes the receiver. You still have yours in hand but it's against the table. You lift it.

"Couldn't wait to see me, huh?" He purrs.

Your cheeks draw tight, "how are you?"

"Mm," he narrows his eyes as he looks you over. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, Steve," you swallow the dregs of your tears. "Really. It was an early morning."

He stares a little longer, the lines deepening in his forehead. His eyes meet yours. His aquamarine irises are speckled with gold and silver. He takes a breath and tuts.

"You were crying."

"No, Steve, it's nothing."

"That brat brother of yours," he nods as his expression turns dangerous.

"Please, Steve, not you too. Okay? It's... a sibling spat. That's all," you assure him. You wish you were as transparent as the window between you.

"I don't like that. I had family coming to see me, I'd be nice," he snarls.

"It's not your problem."

"That's where you're wrong, sweetheart. You made it my problem when you started coming around." He insists.

You chew your lip, "I know..."

"I'm not complaining, so you know," he leans back. "Kinda used to ya now."

"Thanks," you utter grimly and stare at the desk.

"Hey," he says and your eyes flick back up. "I didn't drag myself out here to see you mope."

You swallow and push away the rest of your chagrin, "sorry, I... better?"

"How can that face get any better?" He winks. You squirm.

He's been more forward lately. You assure yourself that it's just him playing with you. He's bored and you're the only person he talks to that isn't a guard or an inmate.

"That's... Right. Um, I guess it was dumb to ask how it's going," you scoff at yourself.

"It's going good, now I'm here," he runs his hand over his mouth, feeling his cheeks, "fresh shave this morning. Looking good, huh?"

You let your eyes focus. You can tell. His chiseled jaw is bare, not one speck of stubble. And his blond hair is parted and combed back. It's getting a bit long.

"You look refreshed."

"Well, I got something coming up later today."

"Another visitor?" You wonder.

"Lawyer," he shrugs. "No big thing. I got business on the outside still. Power of attorney or whatever."

"Mm," you hum.

"Boring stuff. What about you? Besides that idiot you call a brother, how's life?"

"It's life," you say. "Go to work, come home, sleep, it's all the same."

"Huh, sounds like being in here," he snorts. "Lonely?"

You don't realise at first, he's asking.

"I guess. Thought about getting a cat."

"Ah, you're young. Probably wait a few years before that," he chirps.

You tilt your head wryly, "no harm starting early."

"You're funny, sweetheart."

"Am I?" You wonder dryly.

"Well, the things they think are funny in here..." he makes a face. "You know, I wouldn't tell a lady all that, but it's low brow."

"Right."

"I'm still trying to figure you out, you know? Your brother, well, not to pile on top but he's not exactly a model citizen, but you, you're practical, considerate, you make stuffed chicken and pesto. I can't help but wonder how you're not adopted," he snickers.

"Life is strange."

"Isn't it? Never saw some girl knocking on my cell door but here we are," he drawls.

"Here we are," you agree. He smiles and bites his thumb. You shift as his eyes sparkle.

"I might never get outta of this place, but at least I can see a pretty face now and again," he growls.

Yep, at least he'll never get out. You just need to hope Vaughn doesn't get any time added and it will all be over soon. 

⛓️‍💥

It's the first night Steve doesn't call. You're a bit disturbed by how it seems to throw the whole evening off. It's not like you're friends. He's an obligation. You should be happy to have one less thing on your plate.

You take a long bath, your phone on the back of the toilet, the ringer set to chirp. But it doesn't. The soak isn't enough to ease your nerves.

If something happened to him, what about Vaughn? It's a selfish worry but you can't help it. How could that even happen? Steve has this invincibility about him. You just can't believe it.

You get out and dry yourself off slowly. You're achy from sitting on your ass all day. Admin work isn't very thrilling. You stretch and rub the cushion of your bottom, the muscles easing beneath the layer of padding. You've always had a bit extra. It never bothered you as much as it bothers men. Your brother used to beat up any guy he heard hurling insults at you.

It's not your biggest care in the world. You tend to eat those away. Your sweet tooth hardly helps.

You put on a night shirt and lay awake for a while. Even when you do sleep, it's not peaceful. You dream of iron bars and blood on the floor. You wake with a thumping in your temples.

You dress for work. Your stretch-waist grey pants and the silk blouse with roses on the collar. You pack your lunch and brew your coffee, honey and a dash of almond milk splashed in. You leave with your bag and thermos.

The traffic around the clinic is always clogged. You get in with two minutes to spare. You sit behind the window and the phone rings as soon as opening hour strikes. You're swept up in the demands of patients and doctors alike. One thing you can't complain for how quickly the days fly.

You eat your lunch in your car. You cherish the moments you're not surrounded by sniffling, coughing, and complaining. You head back in and finish the last half, yawning at the monitor.

It's even busier when you pull out into the street. You let the music flow into your ears and distract you. You tap the pedal as you slog along. Finally, you get to a side street and cut a zig zag across town. You pull up to your building and linger in your car.

You have this eerie feeling. You glance over at the unfamiliar car parked facing the brick. The sleek white muscle car is vintage and polished to a shine. Someone loves that thing.

You get out of your dusty Honda and snatch your bag from the passenger's seat. You tap your fob and enter through the side. You stop before the elevator and turn back. You should at least try to get a few steps in. You take the stairs.

You stare at your pointed flats as you drag your soles over the carpet. You smother a yawn behind your hand. A throat clears. You move over, thinking someone's coming your way. You stir in your bag for your keys. Your name brings your chin up.

You gasp and drop your keys. You teeter as you nearly spin and sprint away. Your bag slips and you barely catch the strap. You gape at Steve as he stands beside your door.

Silence wafts around you with the smell of cooking and laundry. He holds a bouquet of classic red roses. He sports a tailored suit in black that puts his prison uniform to shame. The collar is crisp and the tie perfectly knotted. His jawline is shaved and his hair is styled down to the strand.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greets with a smirk.

You wordlessly bend to pick up your keys then stand and fix your bag on your shoulder. Your eyes glaze in disbelief and horror. A million questions flurry to a storm of terror.

"How..."

"Appeal went through. They turned over my conviction," he struts away from the wall. "These are for you, sweetheart."

You look at the petals then at him as he comes close. Your shoulders sag as you shrink down at the breadth of his shadow. He's even bigger like that. You shudder, the lack of barrier unsettling.

"I got you speechless," he intones and grabs the strap of your bag. "Look like you had a long day, let me take a load off."

He takes your bag then guides your hand to the bouquet. You close your mouth and gulp. He sweeps away your keys and hooks his arm through yours. You let him lead you to the door of your apartment. He swings it open and you flinch.

"Wait, Steve, how did you-- how do you know where I live?" You quaver.

"Told you, I got friends on the outside. You don't think I'd leave you unprotected--"

"Wait, wait," you plead as you face him, untangling your arm from his. "How is this real? How are you here? How- Why-- You don't think--"

"I think I spent months talking to you and you spent the same time coming to me. It's not what I think, it's what I know," he insists. You choke.

If his conviction was flipped, maybe that means he isn't so bad. No, no, you heard of what he did in there. He's dangerous. Whether he did what the court said he didn't or not.

He waves you in, "come on, we can take it slow. We'll talk, like old times."

You shake your head but enter. You see no other choice. You're too stunned to think of any.

He follows and pulls the key free of the door before shutting it. He hangs them on the little hook beside the frame. He faces you as you focus on slipping off your flats. He puts your bag on the top of the small shelf where you store your mitts and whatnot.

He whistles, "you look... good. I mean, I never got the full angle." He steps back and you feel him raking you with his eyes. "Got a nice shape..."

"Steve," you snap and face him. "I... I never..." you pace yourself and take a breath. "The flowers are lovely, thank you. And I appreciate you coming by but I think there's a bit of a miscommunication." You turn and slowly inch away. You spin around as he watches you, his expression betraying nothing. "I only talked to you to keep Vaughn safe."

He sighs and his eyes narrow. His brows tilt slightly and his jaw squares. He nods and smooths the front of his jacket.

"Well, sweetheart, I went and got a new suit for you."

"I'm sorry--"

"No, get this," he strides forward and stops before you. "Whether it was for me, for you, or for that scum you call a brother, it happened and it's not over. You got me? I might be out but I got men inside. Men who are willing to do a lot worse than me," he snarls.

You shudder and he grabs your chin. You whimper. "I wanna be nice to you, sweetheart. That's all I've been dreaming of. I went out, got all dressed up, got you flowers, now you do me a favour, go put a dress on so I can take you out for dinner." He sniffs and squeezes just until your jaw throbs, "see, I'm still doing stuff for you. I'm not asking much except you to come out and look pretty."

He lets go and you stagger back. You sniffle and quickly hide your face. Your voice comes out hoarse, "I'll put these in water first."

Your heart races and you go into the kitchen. You find a vase and focus on filling it. You put the flowers in and toss the paper cone. He looms in the doorway.

"I'll find something to put on, okay?" Your voice cracks.

You cross the kitchen and he stays firmly in your path. He brings his knuckle up under your chin and forces your face up.

"Smile, sweetheart," he growls. "We're together. At last."

[xprinceling]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧after hours✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆• 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - at the sound of prada event in seoul, you and lee heeseung couldn’t possibly tear your eyes away from one another. reputations and careers at stake, the already made decision to follow the rush of adrenaline rising in your gut could very much be fatal not only for you, but for your ex boyfriend too.

• 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - actress ex-girlfriend fem!reader x idol!heeseung

• 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 1.6k

• 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - restroom stall sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), creampie, fingering

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.

the prada afterparty was similar to a glittering den of temptation, but lee heeseung felt none of its allure. he stood near the edge of the room, away from the rest of his group, a glass of champagne in his right hand, untouched. his eyes scanned the crowd, not out of born interest, but out of habit. that was the case, until his gaze landed on you.

you were impossible to miss. dressed in a sleek black gown that hugged your curves like a second skin, persephone reborn, you stood mysteriously by the bar, presence commanding the room without any effort. your hair cascading over your bare shoulders in waves, lips painted a glossy, cupid-like pink, which curved into a smirk as your observing eyes locked onto his.

heeseung froze, his breath catching in his throat. it had been more than 2 years since you decided to part ways and break up, years since the two of you had last spoken, but the sight of your silhouette hit him like a sharp punch to the gut. you looked the same, yet different - more confident, more otherworldly, more you. and yet, the way you were looking at him now, with that familiar warmth in your eyes, made it feel like no time had passed at all.

your gazes met, a silent battle of wills, and heeseung felt the room shrink around the both of you. the noise of the party faded into a dull hum, the crowd blurring into the background. all he could see was you, all he could feel was you, an electric pull taking over - a force too powerful to ignore.

with a seemingly innocent tilt of your head, the smirk from before widened as you took a slow sip of your beverage, eyes never leaving his. it was a challenge, a dare, and heeseung felt every last bit of his resolve crumble with each second you held his gaze. he knew he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. he shouldn’t be feeling like this. but he was just a man, and he couldn’t help himself.

you set your glass of champagne down and began to walk towards him, heels clicking against the polished floor like a countdown to disaster. heeseung’s pulse quickened, hands clenching at his sides as you briskly closed the distance between you. stopping just inches away, your perfume - a familiar intoxicating scent - wrapped around him like a vice.

“hee” - you uttered, his name rolling off your tongue like a secret. your voice was low, husky, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

“you shouldn’t be here” - he replied with a rough voice, though he made no move to step back.

you laughed, a sound that carried equal parts sweetness and danger. “neither should you”

you couldn’t help yourself as your hand reached up, fingers brushing against the lapel of his jacket, and he felt the touch like a brand. heeseung’s breath caught, body betraying him as he leaned into your touch. you smiled, eyes dark with something he couldn’t quite name - desire, maybe, or regret.

“you look good” - you murmured, gaze dropping to his lips before flicking back up to meet his eyes. “but then, you always did’’

heeseung’s jaw tightened, his resolve crumbling with every second you stood this close to him. - “don’t. people are watching.” he mumbled, though his voice lacked conviction.

“don’t what?” - you asked, fingers trailing down his chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, not caring about who was watching, even though you knew you were playing a very, very risky and dangerous game. - “don’t touch you? don’t look at you? don’t remind you of what we used to have? i miss you, hee. i can’t help it.”

your words took the form of a knife, twisting in his chest, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for you. his hand found yours, pulling you away to the closest restroom stall. thank god, it was empty, and he locked the door with a swift click, closing the distance between you until your bodies were flush against each other.

“oh, this is a bad, bad idea,” he said, as he took another glance at you, his voice barely above a whisper. he was doubting whether he should actually act on his desires, or leave them be.

“the worst” - you agreed, lips curving into a smile. “but since when have we ever done the smart thing?”

your words were the final straw. heeseung leaned in, lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was all fire and desperation. your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer, and he groaned into your mouth, the sound swallowed by the heat of the embrace. you tasted like champagne and something darker, something addicting, and he couldn’t get enough. you were a hypnotizing force, entrancing him so hard, that he could get completely lost in your control.

the world around the both of you faded, the noise of the party outside of the stall dissolving into a distant hum. all he could focus on was you - the way you body felt against his, the way you lips waltzed with his, the way you whispered his name like a prayer. so familiar, yet so bittersweet.

but then, reality came crashing back as someone knocked on the door -“we can’t do this” he said, his voice rough with regret -“not here. not now.”

you looked up at him, eyes dark with desire and something else -something that looked a lot like pain. “then where?” - you asked, voice trembling. “when? because I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you back, hee. i’m so tired of pretending I don’t care.”

your words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. he wanted to tell you he felt the very same, that he’d never stopped caring, that he’d never stopped craving her. but the weight of your careers, your reputations, hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the stakes and what being found out would do to the both of you.

“this could ruin us, love” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

you smiled, a plead - “please. just this once. then we’ll figure it out together, i promise.’’

‘’fuck’’ - he growled as his restraint snapped. hee kissed you, hard and desperate, his hands sliding down your spine to grip your waist. you moaned into his mouth, hands tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with equal fervor. it was messy, frantic, and utterly consuming as the years of pent-up longing came crashing down once and for all.

your dress slipped from your shoulders as heeseung pushed down the straps, pooling it at your feet. his breath hitched frantically as he took his own trousers off, and braced himself to take you in. you were breathtaking, skin glowing in the dim light, arousal dripping down your legs, your curves a perfect contrast to the sharp angles of your collarbone and jaw. hee reached for you, his hands trembling as they traced the lines of your body, relearning every inch.

“you’re still so beautiful” - he whispered, his voice breaking as he pressed a kiss to your neck, teeth grazing your skin.

you shivered, hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. - “don’t” -you said, voice trembling. - “don’t say things like that.”

“why not?” - he asked, lips trailing down your shoulder, fingers slowly pressing against your lower stomach, getting ready to prepare you - “it’s the truth.”

you didn’t answer, breath catching as his ring-covered fingers found the curve of your heat, inserting themselves into it, gently caressing your folds before sticking them even deeper, challenging a gasp to come out of your mouth. he could feel every bit of you, the way your hips arched into his touch, and it drove him mad. his lips found yours again, the kiss softer this time, but no less urgent.

you let out a moan as he pulled his hand out of you, using it to pump his own erection a few times, before using it to tease your enterance a little bit. it was maddening, how he made moves to slide inside, but never did.

after a while neither you nor him could hold the rising pain anymore, and after begging him endlessly, you finally felt the mass of his length slide between your folds. both of you let out a short gasp as he started to move in and out. at first his paces were slow and deliberate, but then they turned into desperate, flash-speed thrusts, which would have left you crumbling on the floor, if it was not his stable hand holding your waist.

is was matter of a couple of quiet grunts, before you finally came together, with a desperation that left you both gasping for air. your nails dug into his broad shoulders, breath hot against his neck, and he buried his face in your locks, inhaling the scent of you, committing every sound, every touch, to memory.

the world outside ceased to exist, the noise fading into nothingness. all that mattered to him was you, the way you felt in his arms, the way you muttered his name. and as you clung to each other, lost in the heat of the moment, heeseung knew he would never forget this night, or the love of his life, who had set his world on fire.

[darkmarkmarauder]

Call me and I’ll come - S.S.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x you

You should have known better by now.

Should’ve known that getting your feelings hurt was just part of the deal when it came to Sebastian Sallow.

Because he never promised you anything, did he? He never said he was yours, never whispered I love you when his hands were all over you, hot against your skin, when he fucked you like he actually meant it.

Sebastian Sallow was not a good person.

That was fine, though, because neither were you.

Whatever this was between you—this thing—that was built on the kind of pleasure that left bruises and bite marks and bad decisions. It was never meant to be sweet. Never meant to be kind.

And yet, there he was. Playing at chivalry, walking Poppy Sweeting back to her dorm like she was something to be protected. Like she hadn’t spent the past seven years getting under your skin, all sunshine smiles and Holier Than Thou bullshit.

You weren’t sure why you even followed them. Maybe it was the way Poppy's laugh rang through the corridor, soft and sweet, like she wasn’t the most insufferable person on the planet. Maybe it was the way Sebastian looked at her—really looked at her—as if she were saying something worth listening to. The thought made your stomach churn. You had him first. Had him beneath you, above you, inside you. You should’ve been the only thing occupying that wicked little mind of his.

But no. He was escorting her back to her fucking Hufflepuff common room like some noble gentleman. Heart-of-gold-ass-bitch. God, you hated her.

So you had a little fun.

Just a little.

Legilimency was easy when your target was oblivious. You slipped into her mind without so much as a whisper, poking at her thoughts, nudging her attention away from whatever painfully dull story she was telling him. Watching her stumble through sentences, lose her train of thought, look almost dizzy with confusion. Sebastian’s brows furrowed as she trailed off mid-sentence, blinking rapidly.

“You alright?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. That made your teeth grind. So concerned for little Miss Perfect.

Poppy nodded quickly, but she was uneasy now. You could feel her nerves, the confusion settling deep. You kept at it—poking, prying, twisting little intrusive thoughts through the cracks of her consciousness.

Poppy winced, pressing a hand to her temple. “I… I don’t know. I just feel a little—”

You rolled your eyes. Pathetic. You got bored of that real quick. Whispering under your breath you sent a nauseating little hex and she was doubled over, face paling, gagging.

Sebastian stepped back, startled. “Poppy?”

“Uh, I think—I think I need to go lie down,” she groaned, turning away hastily.

You strolled up behind Sebastian just as Poppy stumbled off, pouting mockingly. "Aw, hope she feels better."

You barely kept the smirk off your face as Poppy disappeared into her common room, her face pale as she clutched her stomach. Whatever. She’d be fine. Maybe next time, she’d learn not to bat her pretty little lashes at your Sebastian.

Not that he was yours.

Sebastian turned to you the moment she disappeared, a slow, disbelieving shake of his head. His lips twitched in amusement, but his eyes were anything but.

"Yeah, okay, princess, we’re really gonna pretend?"

You folded your arms, feigning innocence. "Not sure what you mean, Sallow."

"Cut the shit," he scoffed, stepping closer, the scent of fresh pine, something unmistakably him filling the space between you. "The second she started looking like she might kneel over, I knew you were up to something. And then—what? you just coincidentally show up the moment she leaves? Please."

You rolled your eyes. "Please," you mimicked, voice dripping with mockery. "What, am I not allowed to take a little evening stroll?"

Sebastian let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Right. Because you, of all people, just love late-night walks around the Hufflepuff dorms. Admit it, you’re jealous."

That word. Jealous. You bristled at it, anger flashing hot through your veins.

"Of what, exactly?" You sneered. "Little Miss I-Save-Orphaned-Dragons? Please. You think I’m worried about you wasting your time with a boring little goody-two-shoes like her?"

His jaw tensed, and fuck, you loved getting under his skin.

"You’re so full of shit," he muttered, voice dropping an octave. "What was it? You didn’t like seeing me with her? Didn’t like the thought of me walking her back? Maybe—" he took another step closer, and you refused to move back, even as your breath caught in your throat— "maybe you didn’t like knowing she actually enjoys my company without having to spread her legs first."

The words hit like a slap. You felt them crack through your ribs, shatter through your lungs. But you weren’t about to let him see it.

"Wow," you let out a sharp laugh, masking the ache blooming in your chest. "That’s rich, coming from the guy who can’t seem to keep his hands off me."

Sebastian tilted his head, brown eyes dark and unreadable. "Yeah?" he mused, his tone almost taunting. "Maybe I should try. Since it’s not like you’re anything special."

You sucked in a sharp breath.

"Fuck you," you spat.

Sebastian smirked, slow and lazy, his words venomous. "You already did. And if I recall, you come crawling back every single time."

Your vision blurred red. Your nails dug into your palms, the sting barely grounding you. You wanted to hex him. Wanted to make him hurt the way his words made your chest feel like it was caving in.

But instead, you took a step back.

"Go fuck yourself, Sallow."

And then you turned on your heel walking away, fists clenched, heart pounding, body burning with fury and something you weren’t ready to name. Jealousy.

Behind you, Sebastian let out a sharp exhale.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, voice laced with something that almost sounded like regret.

You were drunk when you called him.

Drunk and pissed off and reckless.

You’d heard about it from Imelda—how Sebastian had actually taken Poppy on a date, how he’d sat with her at The Three Broomsticks, bought her a drink, showed her a good time. How they sat together at dinner.

You refused to look at him for the rest of the day. You ignored him in class, in the halls, in the library. You ignored him even when he tried to get your attention, knocking his knee against yours under the desk, whispering your name when the professor wasn’t looking. You ignored him all the way up until tonight.

Right up until the moment you floo-called him from your room.

The moment he picked up, his voice came through the flames, exasperated but familiar. “What do you want?”

“Come over.” You softly demanded.

He sighed. “I’m busy.”

You leaned in, let your voice drop lower, silkier. “Didn’t ask if you were busy, Sallow. I said come over.”

A pause. He wasn’t even pretending to think about it—the sound of him moving, the clink of his belt as he got dressed . “Give me ten.”

You grinned.

Of course he’d come. He always did.

It didn’t matter how much he flirted with Poppy, how much he tried to pretend there was something there. It didn’t matter if she was sweet and kind and everything you weren’t.

Because at the end of the day, when you called—he answered.

Always.

Not even a minute later, there he was, disheveled, eyes swirling with something that looked like relief. His shirt was wrinkled, his tie loosened like he had rushed here.

You smirked. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “You’re such a fucking piece of work, you know that?”

You didn't bother responding as his dark eyes bore into yours. Tilting your head slightly, biting your lip before yanking him inside, fingers wrapped around this tie as the door slammed shut behind him.

Yeah. Poppy Sweeting didn't stand a fucking chance.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: raw, next question.

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[theonottsbxtch]

LOW LIFE | LN4

an: LMAO DID I JUST ACCIDENTLY WRITE MY OWN FIRST SMUT LMAO @iimplicitt IS STILL IN SHOCK BUT IT JUST HAPPENED.

wc: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT MDNI (18+), drug use, cheating, graphic? sex

LANDO NORRIS WAS THE KING OF THE ICE—MVP, team captain, the kind of player scouts drooled over. Fast, ruthless, unstoppable. On the rink, he was untouchable. Off it? He was a ticking time bomb.

The parties, the girls, the drugs—it all blurred together in a haze of neon lights and bad decisions. He lived for the rush, for the next high, for the next night he wouldn’t remember. And then came her.

She was off-limits. Oscar’s girl.

Oscar, his teammate, his so-called best mate, the one guy who still believed Lando had a shot at going pro if he could just get his act together. And she was his. The perfect hockey girlfriend—pretty, polished, and loyal, at least in theory.

But Lando saw the cracks. The way her gaze lingered when Oscar wasn’t looking. The way she bit her lip when he got too close. She wasn’t as untouchable as she wanted to be. And Lando? He never turned down a challenge.

One night, a club. Oscar was out of town. She was bored. One too many drinks, a little bit of molly, and suddenly, she wasn’t resisting anymore.

Lando didn’t love her. He didn’t even know if he liked her. But he knew she’d come back. They always did.

Their affair was a game, a sick addiction—sneaking around, pretending there were rules when there weren’t. She hated him. She wanted him. She swore it would stop, but it never did.

Then the cracks shattered.

A video. A night they couldn’t take back. It spread through the team like wildfire, through the uni, through Oscar.

Lando never claimed to be a good guy. He never pretended to play fair. And now? Now, he was about to lose everything—his captaincy, his shot at the league, his best mate.

But the worst part?

He still wanted her.

And he was willing to burn the whole fucking world down to keep her.

7 months ago:

The first time Lando really noticed her, she was wearing Oscar’s jersey.

She was standing just outside the rink after a game, her hair still damp from the cold, laughing at something Oscar had said. Lando should’ve kept walking, but something about the way she smiled made him pause. It wasn’t just pretty—it was effortless, like she wasn’t even trying.

And then she looked at him.

Just a flicker, a half-second too long, before she turned back to Oscar. But Lando felt it. That awareness.

He ignored it. At least at first.

It wasn’t like he needed another complication. His whole life was a balancing act—keeping his grades just high enough to stay eligible, keeping his nose clean enough for the scouts to stay interested, keeping his habits in check enough that the coaches didn’t start asking too many questions.

Besides, he had options. Plenty of them. Girls who didn’t come with consequences.

But she was different.

Not just because she was Oscar’s, but because she wasn’t like the others. She didn’t throw herself at him. She barely looked at him when Oscar was around. She should have been safe.

She wasn’t.

The first mistake was at a party. 

The whole team was celebrating a win, the kind of night that blurred into neon lights and sticky floors. Lando had already taken something by the time she showed up, a slow burn in his veins, turning everything soft around the edges.

He saw her first.

She was wearing something tight, something short. Not for him, but it didn’t matter. Because he saw the way her eyes flicked to him when she thought Oscar wasn’t watching. The way her breath hitched when he brushed past her.

She stayed close that night. Close enough that he could smell her perfume, close enough that when she reached for a drink, her fingers skimmed his.

Oscar left early. She didn’t.

Neither did Lando.

It wasn’t planned. He wouldn’t even call it intentional. But the second they were alone, the tension cracked like a shot to the glass.

“You’re drunk,” she murmured when he backed her against the wall.

“So are you.”

She should’ve pushed him away. She didn’t.

And when he kissed her, she kissed him back.

It was a mistake. One they should’ve never repeated.

But they did.

It became a pattern.

It became an addiction. 

Oscar would go to bed early after a game, and she’d stay up just a little longer. Oscar would go grab drinks, and she’d glance at Lando across the room. It was never enough to prove anything—but it was enough.

Enough to make it impossible to stop.

The first time he fucked her, it was after another party, both of them high, half-drunk, caught between a hotel room door and a terrible decision. She was gasping his name, fingers digging into his back, and he didn’t even feel guilty.

Because it didn’t feel wrong.

It felt like something that had been waiting to happen all along.

He told himself it wouldn’t happen again.

But it did.

Again. And again. And again.

She never left Oscar. She never tried. Maybe she told herself it wasn’t real, that Lando was just another bad habit, another high she couldn’t quit.

But Lando knew better.

Because she wasn’t the only one addicted.

He should’ve stopped before it got messy. Before the video. Before Oscar found out.

But Lando never stopped anything.

Not until it was too late.

And by then, it wasn’t just his career on the line.

It was everything.

The morning before the end of her world, she woke up to a pounding headache and a sinking feeling in her stomach.

The room was too bright, the hotel curtains half-open, letting in the early morning light that made everything look too real. A slow, creeping nausea settled in as she forced herself to blink.

The sheets weren’t hers.

The bed wasn’t hers.

The shirt she was wearing sure as hell wasn’t hers.

Fuck.

She sat up too fast, the room tilting as last night hit her in flashes - booze, a long drive, Lando’s hand on her thigh in the car, his breath against her neck in the elevator. The taste of him still on her tongue.

Panic clawed up her throat.

And more importantly- where was Oscar?

Her heart was hammering as she shoved the sheets away, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, but before she could move, a lazy voice cut through the silence.

“Relax.”

She turned, pulse spiking, to find Lando sprawled on the other side of the bed. Shirtless, half covered in the sheets, arm thrown over his forehead like he didn’t have a single fucking care in the world.

Like this wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened.

“You look like you’re about to be sick,” he muttered, blinking at her through heavy lidded eyes. His voice was hoarse from sleep, slow and thick, and so fucking casual it made her skin craw.

She was about to be sick.

“Where the fuck are we?” she snapped, voice sharper than she meant it to be.

Lando groaned, running a hand through his already messy hair before reaching for something on the nightstand. “Couple hours out. Middle of nowhere. You insisted we get away before Oscar got home, remember?”

She didn’t. But she believed it.

Her fingers clenched around the hem of the shirt, his shirt, realising she wasn’t wearing anything else beneath it. Her stomach twisted.

“This is bad,” she whispered. “This is really fucking bad.”

Lando just hummed, reaching for the little plastic bag sitting next to his phone. She watched in muted horror as he dipped his pinky finger into the powder and brought it to his nose, inhaling it like it was nothing. Like this wasn’t a complete fucking disaster.

“Chill,” he muttered, voice nasally as he sniffed again. “You'll give yourself wrinkles stressing like that. Shit, you’re stressing me out.”

She stared at him, breath coming too fast, too shallow. “Lando, Oscar is going to kill me.”

At that, he actually laughed.

“Kill you?” He scoffed, shaking his head before leaning back against the pillows, watching her through hooded eyes. “No, sweetheart. If anything, he’s gonna kill me.” He tapped a finger against his chest, smirking. “And I don’t plan on dying today, so…”

He reached for her wrist before she could move, tugging her back onto the bed like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Stay.”

She resisted, barely, fingers digging into the sheets, trying to hold onto whatever little self-control she had left.

“I need to go,” she muttered.

Lando tugged her closer. Not hard, not rough. Just enough to make it impossible to leave.

“Not yet.”

Her breath caught.

“Land-”

His lips brushed her bare shoulder. Just a ghost of a touch. Just enough to make her shiver.

“You made your choice last night,” he murmured. “Might as well enjoy it.”

She wanted to push him away.

She didn’t.

Because Lando was right.

She had already made her choice.

And deep down, they both knew-

She wasn’t going anywhere.

Lando’s breath was warm against her skin, his lips ghosting over her shoulder, lazy but deliberate. Like he had all the time in the world. Like he knew she wasn’t going to pull away.

And she should.

She should push him off, grab her things, and get the fuck out of this hotel room before it got even worse.

But his fingers were already sliding up her thigh beneath the sheets, slow and teasing, his grip just firm enough to make her breath hitch.

“Lando…” Her voice came out weaker than she wanted, barley a whisper.

“Mm?” He hummed against her skin, his mouth brushing the side of her neck now, his stubble scratching just enough to make her shiver.

She swallowed hard. “I need to go.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, his fingers tightening on her thigh as he pulled her fully into his lap, pressing her back against his bare chest.

“You keep saying that,” he murmured, nosing along the curve of her jaw. His other hand came up to push her hair aside, exposing more of her neck. “But you’re still here.” 

She clenched her thighs together, but Lando’s hand was already between them, fingers tracing just under the hem of his oversized shirt.

She hated how easily he could do this - how he could make her body betray her even when her brain was screaming at her to stop.

Hated how much she wanted him.

His hand slid higher, his fingers grazing just over the lace of her panties, a teasing brush that sent heat curling through her stomach.

“You’re fucking dangerous,” she breathed.

Lando grinned against her neck, his teeth catching just enough skin to make her gasp.

“And yet…” His fingers hooked into the waistband of her underwear, dragging them down, his voice dropping to a rough whisper.

“You’re still in my bed.”

And just like that- she stopped fighting it.

She let him pull her back down, let herself sink into the sheets, into him, into the inevitable.

Because she knew the truth. 

She was never leaving.

Not really.

Lando’s hands were everywhere.

Sliding up the curve of her thighs, gripping her hips as he pulled her back against him, his breath hot and slow against her neck. She could feel him - hard and insistent, pressing against her.

She should stop this.

She should.

But then his fingers were slipping up higher beneath her borrowed shirt, skimming over her stomach, higher-

Her breath hitched.

He smirked against her skin.

“See?” His voice was low, rough with sleep and something darker. “I knew you weren’t in a rush to leave.”

She wasn’t.

Not when his lips were trailing down her neck, his hands gripping her like he owned her. Like there was no point in pretending she was anyone else’s.

Because wasn’t that the truth?

Oscar might have had her first. 

Might still think he had her now.

But this?

This was Lando’s.

And she fucking hated herself for it.

He nudged her thighs further apart, his fingers dragging back down her stomach, slow, teasing-

Then the phone rang.

A shrill vibration from the nightstand, cutting through the thick haze of heat and need.

She froze.

Lando didn’t.

His fingers kept moving, sliding lower, dipping into her, his mouth brushing her ear.

“Don’t answer it.”

She swallowed, pulse hammering in her throat.

The phone kept ringing.

Lando let out a slow, exasperated sigh before reaching past her, grabbing it off the table without properly looking at the screen.

And then he smirked.

“You should probably get this,” he murmured, turning the screen towards her.

Her stomach dropped.

Oscar.

Her hands were shaking as she took the phone from him, but before she could sit up properly, Lando grabbed her wrist, dragging her back down against him.

“Don’t move,” he muttered.

She shot him a glare, but he just grinned, fingers now idly tracing circles against her bare thigh and she hesitated- then answered.

“H-hey,” she said, voice strained.

Oscar’s voice came through the line, casual. Trusting.

“Hey, darling. Can we talk when you’re back from your mum’s?”

Lando grinned.

She felt sick.

Oscar exhaled a slow breath. “The boys showed me this video, and I want to talk about it.”

Her heart stopped.

“I don’t think it’s you, but it’s best we clear the air with what the guys are saying, it’s silly I know.” Oscar continued while she struggled to catch her breath.

Lando must’ve felt her tense, because he laughed - low and lazy, dragging his fingers back up her thigh and in between them, completely unbothered as her entire fucking world crumbles aroundher.

She couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t speak.

Because she knew.

She knew exactly what video he was talking about.

And it sure as fuck wasn’t a highlight reel.

It was the video that made her call Lando last night.

It was the video that led her to this hotel room.

Her hand tightened around the phone.

Her mouth had gone dry, her stomach twisting into a brutal knot, but she forced a weak, “Yeah, sure.”

Oscar exhaled, oblivious. “Cool. I love you.”

She hung up.

Didn’t say it back.

The second the call disconnected, Lando plucked the phone from her fingers and tossed it onto the nightstand.

Then he laughed again.

A low, smug, wicked sound as his hand made itself comfortable in between her thighs, his mouth ghosting over her neck.

“Well,” he murmured, dragging his teeth over her skin. “That’s unfortunate.”

She clenched her jaw. “You’re a fucking dick.”

He hummed. “Yup.” His fingers teasing over her already aching core.

She wasn’t meant to be feeling this way.

“But as I said before, you’re still here.”

She should leave.

She should be horrified.

Instead, her body betrayed her.

She gasped as his fingers stroked slow, deliberate circles against her, her back arching as heat curled through her stomach.

Guilt tangled with need, twisting into something dangerous, something irresistible.

Her boyfriend had just told her he loved her.

And here she was- spreading her legs for his fucking teammate.

She hated herself.

But she didn’t stop.

Didn’t fight it when Lando rolled her onto her back, his dark eyes burning with amusement, with something possessive.

“You feel guilty,” he murmured, pulling her shirt off.

She didn’t answer.

He smirked. “Good.”

Then he was inside her, stretching her open in one slow, merciless thrust.

She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

“Fuck-”

Lando groaned, his hands gripping her thighs as he pulled her closer, deeper, his mouth brushing over hers in something that wasn’t quite a kiss.

“You think about him?” he whispered, rolling his hips, making her whimper. “You think about your boyfriend while you let his teammate fuck you?”

Her nails dug into his back. “Shut up.”

He chuckled, slow and sinful before grabbing her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

“Say my name.”

She shook her head, panting, her body trembling beneath him.

“Say it,” he demanded, thrusting deeper.

She broke.

“Lando.”

His smirk was pure sin.

“Good girl.”

And then she stopped thinking.

Stopped caring.

Let herself drown in the feeling of him, in the way he ruined her, in the way she let him.

And the guilt?

It only made it better.

Her body was betraying her.

Pleasure coiled tight in her stomach, hotter, sharper, with every brutal thrust. She could feel it building, could feel herself unraveling under Lando’s hands, under his weight, under the way he was destroying her.

And he knew it.

He could feel it.

His smirk was pure sin as he drove into her, as he dragged his teeth over her neck, sucking a hickey just where Oscar would see it later.

“You gonna come for me?” His voice was dark, teasing, bruising on her hips. “Gonna let me fuck you out of every last bit of guilt?”

She shook her head, a whimper escaping her lips, but he just chuckled.

“Liar.”

He dropped his hand between them, fingers finding her clit, rubbing slow, devastating circles that made her back arch, her body tightening around him.

“Come on,” he whispered, voice dripping with wicked amusement. “Be a good girl and let go. Let him hear it when he calls back.”

Her breath hitched.

God, she hated him.

Hated the way he knew exactly how to push her, how to twist the knife in her guilt, how to make her body betray her completely.

Because she was close.

So fucking close.

And the Lando pressed his forehead against hers, chain dangling between the two of them, his breath hot, his voice a low growl-

“Come for me, cheater.”

She broke.

Her entire body tense, pleasure ripping through her in waves so intense she thought she might black out. She gasped, nails sinking into his shoulders, a wrecked moan spilling from her lips-

And Lando fucking laughed.

Low, sinister, utterly satisfied.

“That’s my girl.”

He didn’t slow. Didn’t give her a second to recover before he took her again, chasing his own release, using her for it, dragging her deeper into his twisted, fucked-up world.

And she let him

Because at this point, there was no coming back.

Her body was wrecked.

Still trembling, still pulsing around him, her mind fogged with the aftershocks of her orgasm- but Lando wasn’t stopping.

He wasn’t done with her.

He gripped her thighs and pushed them wider, dragging her even deeper onto his cock, making her whimper from the sensitivity.

“Too much?” His voice was teasing, smug, but there was something cruel under it, something that enjoyed watching her squirm.

She nodded, breathless, her whole body shivering-

But he just smirked.

“Too bad.”

His thrusts slowed, but they were deep, drawn out, dragging against every sensitive nerve inside her. She gasped, her legs twitching, hands gripping at his biceps, trying to ground herself, but Lando was relentless. 

“You can take it,” he muttered, dragging a hand up her stomach, hand pressing down on her lower belly. “You’re already so fucked out, but I bet you’ll come for me again.”

She shook her head, biting her lip hard enough to hurt, trying to fight the pleasure that was already creeping back in-

He chuckled darkly.

“Cute that you think you have a choice.”

Then his hand slid between them, fingers finding her overstimulated clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles.

Her whole body jerked, a strangled sound leaving her throat.

“L-Lando.”

“I love hearing you say my name like that,” he murmured, brushing his lips over her ear. “All soft. All fucked out.”

She whimpered, a tear slipping down her cheek from the intensity, but he just licked it off her skin, laughing under his breath.

“Poor thing,” he murmured, his voice mocking, his fingers never stopping. “Feeling guilty?”

Yes.

So fuckign much.

But her body didn’t care.

Because she was close again, pleasure building fast, even more devastating than before.

Lando felt it. He felt the way she clenched around him, the way her thighs trembled, the way she was completely at his mercy.

And he loved it.

“Come for me again, cheater,” he whispered, his thrusts getting sharper and faster. “Come while your boyfriend is waiting to talk to you.”

That broke her.

Her second orgasm hit like a gunshot, pleasure searing through her like white-hot lightning. She cried out, body locking up, vision blurring, and Lando groaned as she clenched around him, taking everything he gave her.

Her mind went blank.

She couldn’t think.

Could barely breathe.

And Lando?

He just grinned.

Because she knew why she came back to him every time.

Because she was completely his now.

And there was no going back.

Poor Oscar.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @isaadore @driverlando

[twdfemmefetal]

Crush

Summary: Wait, who has a crush on you? A confession from Maggie makes you second guess every interaction you’ve had with a certain man.

Era: Quarry, Prison

Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Angst, Violence, Swearing, physical altercation, reader gets hurt, strangulation.

You couldn’t tell if you heard her right as you stared blankly at Maggie’s mouth moving. “What?” You asked again, as if you couldn’t process what she had just told you.

“Daryl said he likes you.” She let out with a chuckle as she looked away from you and out into the distance of the guard tower. You swallowed hard feeling your mouth suddenly run dry, trying to slow your breathing. You didn’t know what to say, you were completely thrown off with this confession.

“How do you know? Who told you?” Maggie softly gazed at you from over her shoulder, amused at your now eager tone, “Daryl told Rick, Rick told Glenn, Glenn told me.” Your hands clammed up and you felt a bit uneasy knowing Daryl’s secret was now spreading around unbeknownst to him. You had always thought Daryl was cute, attractive, handsome-honestly you really liked him, but you knew the odds of it working out were slim, especially because of the way he acted around you.

Every moment you had with him seemed to be nothing but annoying to the archer, when you would ask him questions, try to get to know him. You didn’t think Daryl had any feelings at all towards people. He was cold, distant, but hearing the sudden confession made your heart swoon and pound into your ribcage. You tried to recall every single interaction you had with him, when you could have possibly missed the signs?

⭒

You couldn't help but shiver at the night breeze, mentally cursing yourself for giving Lori your only blanket before night time. She was pregnant-you would practically be signing yourself to damnation if you didn't do something to stop her whines and shivers due to how chilly the weather was getting, especially during nightfall.

But now, you were slowly regretting the decision and would have been fine now that you think about it, going to hell. Bet it would be nice and warm there.

"Ya cold?" Your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar southern drawl as you turned around and saw Daryl, leaned up against a tree, watching you. How long had he been there? With a raised eyebrow at his sudden shift of attention to you, you responded.

"No." liar.

"er', looks like ya need it more than me." Daryl grumbled softly and handed you his signature red flannel.

You muttered a quick thanks and took it, grateful for his hunter like observation skills.

As the night went on, the flannel wasn't enough, you were freezing as the temperature dropped significantly in the last few hours. Daryl eventually sighed as he got up from his seating position by the tree and started walking over to you softly.

"git' up," you looked at him with an arched brow and a puzzled expression while you got up from the ground. Daryl slumped down onto the spot and placed his back on the rock you had been leaning on.

"come er'" he grunted as he signaled for you to sit in between his legs. You couldn’t help but blush slightly as did he. Daryl’s ears were practically hot to the touch, never in his life did he think he would be doing this for anyone let alone you.

"Daryl I-"

"m' tired of hearin' yer teeth chatterin', come er' woman."His tone was laced in annoyance, instantly shutting you up. You softly positoned yourself in between his legs, feeling Daryl tense up but quickly relaxing after hearing you sigh in content after he wrapped his arms around you-- along with the big blanket he had been hoarding all to himself...bastard

⭒

The only good thing about being camped by a quarry, was having the opportunity to sun bathe and swim anytime you wanted. You knew it was the end of the world and the last thing you should probably think about was going for a swim, in a walker infested forest but you really needed some sense of normality in the world, so as part of a routine to keep some form of sanity in your life, you made it a habit of being able to sun bathe and take a quick dip in the quarry whenever you had any free time in the day.

After slipping into a black two piece swimsuit, you slowly made your way into the secluded part of the quarry that you always swam in, not wanting anyone to disturb your peace and wanting some more privacy from the others in the group, especially after you found shane watching you from his spot on top of the R.V. 'supposedly' keeping watch.

"Damn girl! wanna get out of there and put on a show for yer' ol' pal Merle?" You heard the familiar southern drawl of the older Dixon who managed to catcall you and every other woman in the group any chance he got.

While rolling your eyes, you turned around in the water and moved your hair to the left side of your body slowly ringing it out of excess water.

"Fuck you Dixon."

"girl's got a mouth on her huh' lil brotha, I bet I can shut her up real good if I shove-" Merle was cut off by the younger Dixon, before he could finish his disgusting rebuttle.

"Shut up Merle, les' go." You couldnt help but give the younger Dixon a soft smile as he gazed upon you once more before turning around, crossbow slung over his shoulder, and making sure the older one followed.

"Ill be back for your sweet ass later darlin'" You flipped off the older Dixon and popped your head back into the cool water once more.

To your suprise, just a few minutes later, you heard someone apporaching the Quarry once more and you fully expected it to be Merle until you looked up and saw Daryl.

"Hey Daryl." Your cheerful tone, and welcoming smile made him ease into your prescence. Daryl was used to always being on edge and ready to enter fight or flight mode with everyone else but you, he could practically feel all his tension dissipate from his body, once he knew you were close.

"shouldn' be er' alone ya know?" Daryl’s tone was laced with concern as he watched you swim through his harden gaze. You smirked and quirked your eyebrow at him.

"Aww Daryl, you don't need to be worried about me." You pouted at him playfully, while batting your long eyelashes. Daryl couldn't help but feel his lips tug into a smirk as he shook his head.

"Sun's settin'... ya should get out soon before ya end up bein' walker meat." You could see his face flash with concern as he looked up at the sky and around cautiously for any sort of threat. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how overbearing he was being and splashed him with some water, catching him completely off guard.

"Nope, Im good."

Daryl squinted his eyes, not feeling in the mood to play anymore, especially when he was concerned about your safety.

"M'serious girl, ain't gonna help ya later when yer ass gets attacked by the livin' dead."

"Why dont you come in here and make me."

And with that Daryl groaned waiting to call your bluff,

“Fine, ain’t my fault if ya end up bein’ dinner for em.” Daryl turned on his heels, expecting you to get out but he turned around once more and saw you swim further into the quarry and away from the shore.

Daryl groaned to himself in annoyance and started with his boots. You were the only woman he would do this for, only woman he would chase.

So when you heard the light splash of water and ripples coming from Daryl who was now fully immersed in the water and coming after you, you smirked to yourself and playfully splashed as much water towards him as you could until he was now wrapping his arms around you, pulling you towards the shore. You were now in a full belly laugh as you saw his long wet hair covering his face, but what really caught your attention was the flash of his toothy grin, and a small twinkle in his blue eyes behind the curtain of wavy brown locks.

⭒

Okay, maybe you had just been completley clueless at all the other times he had offered you some of his own dinner, water, and clothes to keep you warm, fed, and safe.

God how could you not have noticed? You couldnt help but chuckle at the thought of how clueless you had been. Daryl had never been like that with anyone else, and for that you were slightly glad about, you couldn't imagine how possesive you would have gotten if he acted kindly to every other woman in the group.

After your shift was up, and sunrise was now making the clouds cascade with red and orange hues, you felt a sudden feeling of mixed anxiety and nervousness. How should you act now that you know his secret? What do you do about it? Your mind had now been full of so many questions and thoughts that needed answers, so your feet naturally dragged you towards the only person who could give you answers. You headed toward the ward office that daryl had been occupying as his room.

You wiped your sweaty palms on your jean shorts as you raised your trembling fist preparing to softly knock on the door.

You heard some shuffling and movement along with a "com' in,” , allowing you entry. Even the sound of his grumbles made you weak to your knees.

You slowly but hesitantly twisted the door knob as you timidly made your way in the office room. Daryls eyes widen seeing you emerge from behind the doorway. He quickly got up from his laying position on the cot he was sleeping on and looked up at you more awake then ever.

"Morning Daryl, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something that's been on my mind?" Daryl swallowed hard at your timidness, never seeing you act like this before, you were confident, and energetic, this was a whole other demenour you've never carried, so he was worried.

"was' wrong?" Daryl tensed up, ready to kill someone for you if he had to.

"nothing's wrong daryl, opposite to that actually.." you couldn't help but giggle at his tone that was laced with concern over nothing.

"Do you like me?" You asked rather bluntly, catching him off guard. Daryl blinked at you with no words, not knowing how to react.

"what? nah." Tensing up and letting out a dry cough "who told ya that?" he chuckled lightheartedly, hoping to ease the tension in the room.

Your heart softly sank at how he quickly brushed it off. "Oh, no one in particular.." You shifted on another foot now feeling beyond humiliated. "alright, that answers my questions.... Im sorry to bother you, I hope I didnt make you uncomfortable." You couldn't help but stammer out, now assuming your face was probably fully flushed red.

"I's alrigh', ya didn' make me feel any sorta way.. don' lose sleep over it." Your lips formed into a thin line as you softly nodded to him.

"okay then, see you around." and with that you turned to your heels, making sure to close the door softly behind you.

Daryl sighed in dissapointment, as he laid his head back on the bed. Regretting not having the balls to admit his true feelings to you.

⭒

A few days had passed since the confrotation you had with Daryl, he avoided you like the plague. You were beyond humiliated by the whole ordeal but tried not to let it affect you. It was harder said than done, every corner you turned, as soon as Daryl's gaze connected to yours, he made sure to walk the other way, or use any excuse he had to make sure not to be in the same room as you.

Rick has asked you to go on a run with Daryl but to your suprise, Glenn was the one that showed up in his place. Your heart sank, feeling awful for how uncomfortable you might have made him feel to the point that he was willingly avoiding you any chance he had.

"Did daryl not want to come with me?" You softly asked Glenn as he looked at you through in between the shelves. His gaze turned pitiful, as he avoided eyes. "He didn't say that.. Just said he was busy." You nodded and continued with the task at hand, knowing any sort of distractions could be life or death at this point.

As you scavanged more shelves your eyes caught sight of movement just behind the register counter, you quickly drew your gun in an attempt to get the person to surrender. "Hey, come out with your arms above your head!" Glenn was quick to reach your side as he held his own gun up as your backup. You motioned your head to behind the counter and Glenn nodded, understanding that the person might be dangerous and armed, who was crouched behind it.

"Youre cornered asshole." Glenn said coming around the corner of the counter, gun raised. The quick movement alarmed the person, who quickly jumped up and tried to get the gun from Glenn.

You ran over only to be elbowed hard in the stomach from their rough tassle. "what the fuck." You were winded but the adrenaline was kicking in, and you weren't gonna sit down to catch your breath, not when Glenn was in danger.

You quickly tried to tackle the guy by putting your own gun around his neck, using it to try to suffocate him, this action only angered him as he swung his arms back, leaving a pretty shinner on your cheekbone. He took advantage of the opportunity of distraction and quickly pulled you to the ground by your shirt collar and wrapping his rough hands around your neck, choking you.

You felt tears and a burning sensation in your lungs as your vision soon clouded, almost instantly feeling the lack of oxygen get to your head. You tried to pull him off but failed miserably, before he could do more damage, you heard the bang of a gun go off followed with a splater of blood on your face. Causing the man to fall limp ontop of you.

With whatever strength you had, you managed to throw the man off of you and gasp for air, finally being able to see clearly now. "Holy shit, are you okay?" Glenn came around and helped you up, you nodded and flashed him a small smile. "Thank you, I've been better, now lets get the fuck out of here before walkers show up."

⭒

The drive back to the prison was miserable, you pulled the passenger sun visor mirror down and looked over your now bruised neck and cheekbone. Your neck looked worse than your face, seems the blow to your cheek wasnt as bad as the stranglation but, that was the closest call you’ve had to death, and you were shocked it wasn't a walker that almost took you down.

This is gonna be fun to explain

As the gates of the prison opened up and Rick and Carl were the first to approach you both, Ricks eyes flashed with concern when he saw your now purple finger markings around your neck and bruised up cheekbone. "We ran into a guy who went batshit on us but we took care of the problem." Rick's eyes softened as he looked you over, "Im good, dont worry about it." You flashed him your signature bright smile through the pain and helped unload the car of supplies.

As you were about to pick up a duffle bag, Rick intercepted,

"Ive got it, you deserve a few days off after that." Rick signaled to your neck, "Should get that checked out by hershel just in case." With a quick nod, you headed toward the prison cell block and straight to Hershel’s cell.

"So how bad is it?" you softly winced, as Hershel carefully examined your now tender neck.

"there will be swelling and bruising for a while, you might get a bit of a sore throat— seems he really got a hold on ya. Cheekbone is fine, might bruise up as well. Just take it easy on the talkin' and make sure to stay hydrated." You nodded and thanked him, softly getting up from the cot and making your way out of the cell.

Slowly walking up the stairs to your own cell, your eyes connected with Daryl's who seemed to already be fixated on you as he was on his way down from his guard room. You quickly avoided his lingering gaze and headed into your cell to relax.

Just as you were about to relax you heard a grunt at your door. You didn't have to really guess who it was, Daryl's presence was pretty much indistinguishable from others. "Come in." You said hoarsly, as the effects of the choking were now more prominent than ever.

"Heard what happen’d ,ya okay?" Daryl’s eyes flashed with concern as he quickly looked down at the marks around your neck. He inched a bit closer to you and softly brushed his knuckles to your cheek, so tenderly, as if he was afraid to hurt you. You couldn't help but instantly relax in his touch.

“I shoulda’ been there.” Daryl said just barley above a whisper.

“Im okay Daryl, plus it’s not your fault.” You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at him blaming himself.

"You weren't even there." You chuckled once more and slowly pulled away from his touch.

Daryl looked back at you, eyes a bit watery, as if he was going to cry catching you by suprise.

"Yeah, I wasn't even there. I should'a been." He ran a hand over his face tiredly and leaned up againist the wall. "Told Glenn to cover meh', didn't know how to talk to ya after the other day."

Your ears perked up, your face flushed a bit remembering the humilitating moment of trying to ask him if he liked you. "Im sorry Daryl, I seriously didn't mean to make you uncomfortable-" You couldn't finish your sentence when you felt Daryl's soft lips smash onto yours with haste.

The kiss was tender, soft and sweet. You instantly melted into his touch as you felt his rough calloused hands on your hips, pulling you closer to his embrace.

After what felt like a heavenly few minutes of passionate kissing, Daryl pulled away, gasping for air as he leaned his forehead against your own. "I love ya, was too damn scared to tell ya before but I know what I want now. I want you, and I aint losin' ya." Your lip curled up into a smirk and you leaned back in once more to capture him in a chaste kiss, eager for his lips.

“I knew it! Bastard you made me think otherwise.” Daryl chuckled while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, that managed to fall over your face.

“Seriously now who told ya I like ya?”

“Not telling you a damn thing.”

[supernotnatural2005]

The Arrangement - Chapter Four

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Things are growing tense between the you and Dean, buried feelings seemed to be bursting at the seems. How long until they finally burst? Is the real question.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings/Tags: Angst, the usual pinning idiots, fluff.

AN: Okay this chapter became way too long so I had to split it 😅 call it the first half to chapter 5, where we will continue on. As always I hope you enjoy! ☺️

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist < Catch up here

After your steamy shower escapades, you’d both decided to part ways for the night. As much as you wanted to bask in the aftermath, sleeping together—actually sleeping—felt like crossing an invisible line you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.

Luckily, you had an easy excuse. You had work in the morning, and Dean had an even earlier start for his long drive out to Stanford. And after a day filled with very thorough extracurricular activities, the moment your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light.

By the time you woke up, Dean was already gone. A small part of you felt miffed that you hadn’t gotten to see him off—not just because of whatever this thing was between you, but because, at the end of the day, he was still your best friend. And you missed him when he wasn’t around.

That little pang of disappointment eased when you spotted the note on the coffee machine, still warm from where he must have made a fresh pot before leaving.

You weren’t prepared for the wave of emotions that crashed into you at the sight of his familiar scrawl. Why did he have to be so…Dean?

Letting out a long sigh, you lightly slapped your own cheek. Snap out of it. It’s nothing new.

Dean had always been like this. A natural caretaker. Your friend. That was all.

You shoved those unwelcome feelings down, drowning them in bites of warm, buttery pancakes and strong coffee. The food did wonders for distracting your heart.

By noon, you were about ready to throw in the towel. Your caseload was piling higher by the minute, the endless spreadsheets and budget reports turning into a blur of numbers. 

As the company’s-chartered accountant, you were used to the pressure—but Roman’s impulsive decision to buy into the Biggerson’s fast food chain had sent your workload into overdrive. You were now up to your eyeballs in audits and projections, making sure the company wasn’t about to haemorrhage money on a half-baked business venture.

A familiar teasing voice broke through your frazzled thoughts.

“Damn, I don’t know whether you need a drink or a cigarette.”

Spinning your chair around, you found yourself face-to-face with your favourite redhead, her signature smirk firmly in place.

“Can I have both?” you deadpanned, rubbing a hand over your already mussed-up hair. “Seriously, why couldn’t he wait until after the holidays for this manic decision? And why the hell Biggerson’s?”

Charlie plopped down onto your desk, crossing her legs as she shrugged. “Yeah, no clue. Although… Frank—”

You arched a brow. “Conspiracy-theory Frank?”

“The very one.”

Of course.

Charlie leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s convinced the company heads are actually cannibals, and this whole buyout is part of some elaborate scheme to fatten up Americans before they, and I quote, ‘chow down.’”

You burst out laughing, the stress momentarily melting away. “Wow. That’s a new one.”

“Right?” Charlie grinned before giving your arm a pat. “C’mon, let’s get some lunch. And then you can tell me why Gary looks like he’s been sucking on a lemon all morning.”

A few blocks away, you and Charlie found yourselves at Rufus’ Deli, home to some of Kansas’ finest sandwiches. Rufus himself was a legend—gruff, no-nonsense, and about as approachable as a guard dog, but no one could deny the man’s skills. His sandwiches were that good, drawing lines down the block every day.

Luckily, you and Charlie had managed to worm your way into his good graces over time. Whether it was your shared appreciation for his craftsmanship or the fact that you never tried to chat his ear off like other customers, he had developed a soft spot for you both. And that meant one very important perk—you got to skip the line.

So, when the lunch rush was in full swing and Rufus spotted you, a warm smile replacing his usual gruffness, jerking his head toward the counter. “What’ll it be today, ladies?”

You gave him your order with a grateful smile, and within minutes, you and Charlie were seated at your usual spot, tearing into your sandwiches.

“So,” Charlie mumbled around a bite of her chicken club, “wanna fill me in on the Gary sitch?”

You sighed, setting your sandwich down and swallowing before launching into the whole story. You kept the details light—omitting the drinking with Jo and the deeper parts of your frustration—but you didn’t hold back on the bare minimum effort Gary had put into your so-called relationship.

Charlie listened intently, her expression shifting from mild curiosity to full-on irritation. When you finished, she scoffed. “Damn. What a prick.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms before her lips curled into a mischievous smirk. “You know… you just gave me the incentive I needed to fill that douchebag’s computer with enough viruses to make it cry.”

You nearly choked on your drink, barely managing to cover your mouth as you laughed.

Charlie worked in the tech department and she was the company’s most valuable asset. The only one who came close to her level of expertise was Frank, and even he admitted she was the best. You’d met her in your second month on the job when she’d swooped in to fix a software issue you’d been struggling with. Not only had she solved it in minutes, but she’d also taken the time to teach you a few tricks that you still used to this day.

The two of you had hit it off immediately. She was a giant nerd at heart—quirky, sarcastic, and fiercely loyal. You’d bonded over your shared love of Harry Potter, both agreeing that Hermione was the real reason Harry even survived half his adventures.

“You know…” you smirked, eyes glinting with amusement. “I wouldn’t hate to see that.”

Charlie grinned, wiggling her fingers as if casting a spell. “Then consider it done.”

The two of you burst into laughter, the weight of your morning stress lifting—at least for now.

After lunch, you and Charlie made your way back to the office, the brisk winter air nipping at your cheeks and turning the tip of your nose red. The cold was sharp, but in a way, it was refreshing—like it was clearing out the mental fog that had settled in after your morning of spreadsheets and stress.

As you neared the building, Charlie shoved her hands into her coat pockets. “You coming to the company Christmas party tomorrow night?”

You blinked, nearly having forgotten about the annual bash Roman Enterprises threw right before everyone was released for their so-called ‘Christmas break.’

“Shit, I completely forgot about that,” you admitted, your breath visible in the air. Your mind had been preoccupied with... well, other things.

“Well, I’m only going if you are. I can only tolerate these people when I’m getting paid for it.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head. “I mean, I guess it’d be the decent thing to show our faces, right?” You shrugged, considering it. “And I do have to admit—Dick throws a damn good party.”

“Right? And there’s always a chocolate fountain,” Charlie said, eyes lighting up.

You hummed in agreement. “Fuck it. Let’s go. I can grab a new dress on my way home later.”

Charlie grinned, clearly pleased. “Oh! You should invite Dean. It’s been a while since I saw that knucklehead.”

That made you hesitate.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to invite Dean, but an office Christmas party wasn’t exactly a casual setting. And inviting him made it feel a little too much like... a date.

But then again, Charlie would be there. It wasn’t like it would just be the two of you. Three friends hanging out. Totally normal.

“Sure,” you said after a beat, forcing nonchalance into your voice. “I’ll ask him. Though he’s not a suit-and-tie kinda guy.” You chuckled, already picturing his disgruntled expression. Getting Dean to wear anything remotely formal had always been a battle.

Charlie smirked. “Tell him there’s an open bar. I’m sure he’ll be persuaded.”

You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head as you pulled open the office door. “Yeah... you might be onto something there.”

By the time you left the office, the sky had deepened into rich blues and purples, the last traces of daylight fading behind the city skyline. You made your way down to 9th Street, stopping in a few stores to find something to wear for the company Christmas party. Dick Roman always hosted black-tie events, and currently, your wardrobe leaned more toward casual attire, jeans, hoodies, sweatpants—not exactly gala material.

Luckily, it didn’t take long to find the dress. A deep red gown with delicate lace accents, an open back that dipped daringly low, and just enough side-boob to make going braless the only option. It was definitely more revealing than what you’d normally go for, but for some reason the thought of Dean seeing you in it, gave you enough incentive to buy it.

Once you got home, you decided it was finally time you got stuck into the gift wrapping. You slipped into your loungewear and set up in the living room, surrounded by wrapping paper, ribbons, and bows. 

Wrapping gifts had always been something you enjoyed—it wasn’t a chore but a ritual. You loved making each present look as perfect as possible, picturing the happiness on your loved ones' faces when they unwrapped them.

Dean’s gift was the last one left of the night, and it was by far the most meaningful.

You had managed to track down an original pressing of Led Zeppelin II—the very album he’d lost as a kid in the house fire. It had been bad, nearly costing Mary her life, the electrical damage so severe that renovations had taken years. They had lost so much—family photos, keepsakes, and among them, the vinyl his dad had given him on his 10th birthday. 

You could still remember the hours you spent in his room, the two of you lying on his bed, singing along to Ramble On, always a little off-key but never caring. Finding another copy had been next to impossible, but last month, Charlie had tracked one down in a tiny record store just outside of town. You had almost kissed her for it.

Now, as you carefully folded the wrapping paper around the record and tied a bow on top, you smiled to yourself. You hoped he liked it.

Just as you finished up, your phone buzzed. Dean. You ignored the flutter in your chest at the sight of his name and flipped open the screen.

“’Sup?”

“Why did I agree to this again?” Came Dean’s gruff voice.

“Because you’re a massive pushover?” you deadpanned.

“Do you know I’m currently parked out on a dirt road? No motels. Havin’ to rough it tonight.”

You bit your lip, picturing him scowling at his surroundings.

“I still don’t feel sorry for you.” You chuckled, and he let out a dramatic sigh.

“’Course you wouldn’t.”

You smiled into the receiver, adjusting the phone against your ear as you stacked the last wrapped gift onto the pile.

“You do realise Sam has a license and could’ve driven himself home, right?”

Dean groaned. “Yeah, but I kinda only got him some shaving foam and a razor for Christmas.”

Your mouth dropped. “WHAT?! That’s all you got him?” You screeched into the receiver. “No wonder you took, like, five minutes to shop. I thought they were your toiletries, not presents!”

“Yeah, well, now he’s got a road trip with his big bro to add to it.”

“You’re a nightmare,” you scoffed, shaking your head with an amused twitch of your lips despite yourself.

The line fell silent for a beat, the comfortable kind, before you remembered your conversation with Charlie.

“I, uh, had lunch with Charlie today,” you said.

“Yeah? How is the nerd?” he teased, though there was clear fondness in his tone.

“She’s good. She’s also plotting to destroy Gary’s computer with viruses.”

Dean let out a bark of laughter. “Brilliant.”

“She also reminded me about the company Christmas party tomorrow night.”

“Oh yeah? You goin’?”

You hesitated, trying to sound casual. “We agreed to go if the other did… but she also asked if you wanted to come.”

There was a pause. “Really?” Dean hummed. “Do you want me to go?”

Your heart thudded in your chest.

“I mean, I know they’re not really your thing. It’s a black-tie event, super formal,” you said quickly, then mentally facepalmed. Were you trying to talk him out of it?

“Sounds pretty terrible,” he agreed, and you panicked.

“There’s an open bar, though.”

Silence. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“Hmm. Now that does change things,” he mused. “I can come if you want me to?”

Your face flushed at the unintentional pun—although, knowing Dean, it was probably very intentional.

“More the merrier, right?” You shrugged it off, with a lame chuckle, wanting to smack yourself in the head.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Another comfortable pause settled between you.

“I’ll, uh, let you get some rest,” you said, softer this time. “Don’t want you falling asleep at the wheel.”

“Yeah, probably best.” He sighed, and you could almost picture him, all scrunched up in the backseat.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

“’Night, sweetheart.”

The next day, you busied yourself tidying up around the apartment. You didn’t want Dean thinking you were completely incapable of living alone, so you straightened up, wiped down the counters, and even tested out a few cake recipes for Christmas. 

After a few failed attempts, you finally landed on a winner—a pecan upside-down cake. It was soft, sweet, and had just the right crunch from the pecans. For a first try, it wasn’t bad. And that was exactly what Dean walked into a few hours later, when he finally arrived.

“Whoa. What the hell smells so good?”

You turned at the sound of his voice, smiling, and for a second, Dean forgot how to breathe. It had only been a little over twenty-four hours since he’d last seen you, and somehow, he’d missed you way more than he was willing to admit.

“Hey. I was just trying out some recipes for Christmas. Think I found a winner.” You cut a slice of cake and slid it onto a plate before handing it to him.

He eyed it suspiciously, glancing between you and the dessert. “You made this?”

You scoffed, your hands settling on your hips in a defensive stance. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

Dean smirked at your reaction. He lived to rile you up. Still, he picked up the slice and took a big bite. The second the flavours hit his tongue, his eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a deep, satisfied moan.

“Shit, that’s good.”

You swallowed hard.

“Really?” you asked, voice a little breathier than you intended.

His eyes snapped open. “You kiddin’ me? I think I just found my new favourite dessert.”

Your face warmed. That was high praise coming from him. Dessert was practically Dean’s second language—specifically, the pie dialect—so for him to say that about your cake. That was a damn honour.

“Well, that’s that then. Dessert is sorted.” You dog-eared the page in the recipe book you’d picked up while dress shopping, mentally noting to make this again for Christmas.

Dean took a seat at the island as he finished his slice of cake, the two of you making idle chit chat about his trip, and how much LA traffic sucked, when you got onto the topic of Sam and his new lady friend. 

“So, Is he punching?” You asked rather bluntly, a teasing smirk on your lips as you gathered everything coated in cake batter and dumped it into the sink.

“Oh, massively. She’s way out of my brother’s league.” Dean laughed, the sound rich and amused, and you raised a brow.

“Sounds like you’re just as smitten,” you mused, a little sharper than you’d intended. What the hell is wrong with you?

You turned your back to him to cover your idiocy, arms buried in warm, soapy water as you busied yourself scrubbing utensils clean.

It was just an innocent comment. It wasn’t like you cared if Dean thought some girl was attractive. You weren’t overthinking, not at all. Not about how easy it would be for him to fall for someone else, someone uncomplicated, someone not you.

Jesus, girl!

You were broken from your spiralling thoughts when you felt him behind you. His presence was unmistakable heat radiating off of him in waves, his scent a lingering mix of soap, leather, and the faded remnants of his cologne. It made your head swim.

A dish clinked gently as he slipped his plate into the water beside you.

“Do I detect some jealousy in that tone of yours?” His voice was low, teasing, the warmth of it curling down your spine.

“Pfft, you’re joking, right?” You scoffed, but the slight crack in your voice gave you away.

Dean heard it too. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was smirking. The self-satisfaction practically rolled off him.

You placed the last item on the drying rack and turned, only to find him closer than expected. Your breath hitched.

“No. I’m deadly serious.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears as his eyes locked onto yours, heavy-lidded and unreadable. The space between you shrank, an invisible force pulling you toward him. Like gravity, like inevitability.

Dean leaned in; his breath warm as it fanned across your lips. His hands braced against the counter on either side of you, caging you in. The heat between you was palpable, something crackling in the air, something that made your knees weak and your thoughts scatter.

Then—

His ringtone shattered the moment.

You jolted slightly, the haze lifting as quickly as it had settled. Dean sighed, raking a hand through his hair as he pulled his phone from his pocket. One glance at the screen and his expression soured.

“What?” he answered gruffly.

You took that as your cue to leave, slipping away down the hall and into your bedroom, pressing the door shut behind you.

You needed a breather. Badly.

What the hell was that?

He can’t be home for more than five minutes before you want to jump his bones.

And, seriously, “Sounds like you’re smitten?” What were you thinking?

You groaned, rubbing your hands over your face before shaking yourself out of your stupor. A shower. A cold one, preferably. Then you could focus on getting ready for tonight—because the last thing you needed was to be a flustered mess at a party where you were supposed to look put together.

The irony.

By the time you stepped out of the shower, steam curling into the air, Dean had left again. Apparently, Sam had forgotten one of Jess’s bags, the one containing all of her clothes for the next couple of days, in Dean’s trunk, so he had to drive back to his parents’ house to drop It off.

That allowed you to take your time getting ready, without being rushed for ‘hogging’ the bathroom.

You pampered yourself—lotions, perfumes, careful grooming (not at all for a certain green-eyed man). You took your time with your hair and makeup, allowing the slow, methodical routine to settle your nerves.

You’d just finished curling your hair when Dean returned.

Still in your robe, you stepped out of your room to grab a drink, only to nearly collide with him in the hallway.

“Oof.”

Dean caught you, steadying you before you could fully crash into him. Your hands landed briefly against his chest, warm and firm beneath your palms.

He chuckled, the sound low and easy, but then his gaze flickered over you, taking in your appearance.

A slow smirk spread across his lips. “You know, when you said black tie, I didn’t realise you meant the robe kind.”

You glanced down at yourself—silk black robe, tied securely at the waist—and realised what he meant.

Unimpressed, you looked back up at him. “Wow. You’re freakin’ hilarious.”

Dean barked out a full-bodied laugh, clearly pleased with himself as you brushed past him toward the fridge, shaking your head. You twisted off the cap of a beer and took a sip.

“Any more jokes like that out of you tonight, and you can stay home,” you warned, levelling him with a serious stare.

Dean only grinned wider but raised a hand in surrender. “Don’t worry, I’ll be well-behaved.”

But the dark glint in his eye told a different story.

He left you there and headed for the shower, while you worked to calm the nerves still rattling in your chest.

Tonight was going to be… complicated.

Questions would be asked.

Is Dean your date? Are you two together?

And you’d have to say no.

Which meant leaving him wide open for the kill.

The women in HR were like sharks in bloodied water—desperate, predatory, and not the least bit subtle. They’d be all over him tonight. And you weren’t sure if you were equipped to handle seeing it. Because those were exactly the kind of women Dean would bed. And you were basically serving him up on a silver platter.

Lord, give me strength.

By the time the clock neared 7 p.m., you were dressed and ready.

You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your reflection. You had to admit—you looked good. Hot, even.

The dress hugged every curves perfectly, the wide-open back revealing the delicate slope of your spine before stopping just above the curve of your ass. A bold red lip completed the look, matching the rich fabric of your gown. Your hair was swept up in a loose bun, soft curls framing your face.

Satisfied, you stepped out into the living room—only to stop short at the sight of Dean.

He was already dressed, waiting, phone in hand.

And he looked—

God.

A black suit, fitted just right, a crisp white dress shirt beneath. The same suit he’d worn for his parents’ anniversary dinner last year. It had looked good on him then. It looked even better now.

The broad set of his shoulders, the slim taper of his waist—it was unfair how well he filled it out. His hair was neatly gelled, but not too much. Just enough to keep that natural, tousled look in place. And he smelled… incredible.

He must’ve sensed your presence, because he looked up from his phone, and had to do a double take.

Holy. Mother of God.

Dean couldn’t breathe. It was as if you’d knocked the wind right out of his lungs just by existing in that dress.

You were stunning.

And that word didn’t even come close to doing you justice.

His gaze dragged over you, drinking in every detail. The way the dress clung to you, the deep red fabric a striking contrast against your skin. The soft glow of the light catching on the shade of your eyes, making them look brighter somehow. The way your lips—painted that same rich shade of red—parted slightly as you waited for him to say something.

Jesus.

He wanted to say something smooth, something that would make you smile, make you roll your eyes at him the way you always did when he teased you. But his mouth had gone dry, and his brain wasn’t quite catching up.

Dean cleared his throat, forcing his voice to work.

“You…” He exhaled, shaking his head slightly, his lips twitching up at the corners. “Damn.”

Your brows lifted in amusement. “That bad, huh?”

Dean huffed out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not even close.” His eyes met yours, more serious now. “You look incredible.”

Your breath hitched. He meant it—there was no teasing lilt in his voice, no smug grin. Just honesty, plain and simple.

You swallowed, feeling warmth rise in your cheeks. “Thanks,” you murmured. “You clean up pretty good yourself.”

Dean smirked, but it softened almost immediately. His gaze lingered, his expression shifting into something unreadable.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

The air between you felt different—thicker, heavier. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you, in the way his fingers twitched at his side like he was stopping himself from reaching out.

For a brief second, you let yourself sink into it. Let yourself feel the weight of his attention, the warmth in his eyes.

But then, just as quickly, you snapped yourself out of it.

“Alright,” you said, exhaling sharply and breaking eye contact. “We should get going before we’re late.”

Dean blinked, like he was shaking off a daze. “Right.” He cleared his throat and followed you to the door, as you grabbed your coat.

Dean opened the door for you, placing a hand at the small of your back as he guided you out. The heat of his touch lingering long after.

AN: I just want to bang their heads together! but at the same time, where would be the fun in that!? 😂 I hope you noticed I gave y'all a little break from all the spice in this chapter, but fear not, these too can never stay separated long 👀

(Also, if anyone reading this works in HR, it was just an idea I went with, I don't mean to offend or think HR is like that 😅)

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester/series Tag List:

@bettystonewell @nancymcl @happyfxckinghorrors @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @fangirlingfromdownunder @cevansbaby-dove @star-yawnznn @piptoost @shadysoulangel @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27 @idontwannabehere7 @maddie0101 @kr804573 @mrs-nesmith @zepskies @ohheyguyss @suckitands33 @ultimatecin73 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @arcannaa @aylacavebear @bobbdylann @waynes-multiverse @jaredpadonlyyyy @impala67stellawinchester @bonbonnie88 @youroldfashioned

Next Time...

Your fingers tightened around your glass as you watched her laugh at something he said—too exaggerated, in your opinion. He wasn’t that funny. And then, as if things couldn’t get worse, her manicured hand squeezed his bicep. That was the last straw. Charlie had abandoned you to use the restroom, leaving you with no distractions other than to sit and watch Dean practically fall in love with another woman right in front of you. Okay, maybe you were being dramatic. But he looked interested, smitten even, and it made your stomach churn. Deciding you’d tortured yourself enough, you pushed to your feet and manoeuvred through the crowd toward the bar. More alcohol seemed like the only logical solution. Except, before you got there, you walked straight into someone solid.

[accidentcache]

spring cleaning was therapeutic. cleaning dust and clutter from the winter, getting rid of things that should've been tossed last spring. the penthouse windows were open to bring in fresh air as you got down to business, music was playing loudly from the soundbar and speakers as you flit from location to location.

keigo often compared you to a little hummingbird during this time. you moved fast, but you got things done. that's all that mattered, really.

he was working at the office today, so the apartment was clear of him potentially getting in your way. in the back of your head you wondered if he timed that on purpose-- keigo hated spring cleaning days-- but you didn't mind all that much. he gave you free reign of his home office since he wasn't going to be here for you to make him clean it anyway-- and jesus did it need cleaned bad.

you had gotten his filing cabinets sorted through and settled before deciding to take a break and sit at his desk. his desk chair-- slightly worn due to just how much he now uses it now that he works both from home and at the office as the HPSC president-- warms underneath you as you settle.

you open each drawer casually, without shame. neither of you have any secrets to hide, and keigo's not that stupid to hide something from you in a spot as easy accessible as his desk drawer.

you file each paper you find into the respective piles you have until you come across a folded up, slightly yellowed piece of notebook paper. it's clear that keigo's held onto this for a while, due to age of it. you almost feel guilty holding it.

was this something from before you met him as hawks? was this some love letter he had written to a girlfriend before you? was this back during his commission days? was this from his childhood?

against better judgement, you decide to unfold it and find a list.

visit italy.

try camping.

learn to cook.

go fishing??

heat floods your cheeks once you realize what you're reading. keigo made a bucket list of sorts. back when it was wishful thinking and torn away from him.

this list feels intimate. not for you, in a way. does keigo even remember making this?

you debate on putting it back into the drawer, deep back in the spot where it was. but a split decision causes you to stuff it into your pocket, burning a guilt shaped hole into your shorts.

it continues to burn even when keigo walks through the door hours later. the routine noises of him tossing his keys into the bowl in the entryway, his shoes getting kicked off and his katanas being set by the door are heard before you even see him.

like every year when you choose a day to spring clean, keigo does what he always does. a deep whiff of whatever candle you chose to burn once you finished cleaning, followed by a tender kiss to your temple. "looks and smells great in here, angel."

you accept the kiss and praise like always, but this time; something settles in your stomach. a feeling you don't like. keigo's already rambling on about something entirely different, making his way towards the kitchen as you're pulling the paper you found earlier out of your pocket.

you're so distracted by your own action that you don't realize he's asked you something. he repeats your name, waving a hand in front of your face. "babe? i asked you something."

your head snaps up, wide eyes and hot cheeks. "sorry, kei-- i wasn't listening. what's up?"

keigo can read you almost unfairly well sometimes. by now it's been almost six years together, you can read him just as good. but it seems he can pull the words from your mouth with just a single look.

his eyes shift downwards, and when you don't even try to hide the paper in your hand his expression softens. he leans onto the kitchen island and reaches a hand out towards you. "what did you find?" his voice is quiet, gentle.

you don't say anything, but you hand him the paper. your stomach tightens as you watch him unfold it, his eyes narrowing then crinkling into a laugh as he reads what's written. nothing is said, but keigo's chuckling.

your eyebrows furrow. you've been sitting with knots all day and here he is giggling over it?

as if sensing you're thoughts, noticing your expression, keigo only chuckles more. "oh dove, you always have a habit of overthinking things."

a soft scowl forms over your features and keigo coos at you and reaches over to pinch your cheek between his fingers. when you swat at his hand, it only causes him to chortle, his form making its way around the kitchen island to your side where he wraps an arm around your waist and firmly tugs you into his side.

"it's just a list, babe. no secrets, remember?"

your eyes roll minutely as a small sigh leaves your lips. "i know it's just a list, babe but--"

"but nothing, dove. just a silly list i made when i was younger."

your heart falls just a little bit. your eyebrows knit together and your tongue traces the seam of your mouth before you respond. "you don't want to do any of those things anymore?"

keigo scoffs good naturedly. "not like i can anyways now. besides, i've done everything i wanted to do in life, which was marry you first off."

"keigo," your tone oozes exasperation. you reach for the paper and he lets you take it from his hands, reading over your shoulder. "camping?" you list off, your finger tracing over his juvenile writing. "visit italy? you're telling me you don't want to do this stuff anymore?"

the blonde sighs, his hands molding against your hips as he moves behind you. his chin rests on your shoulder, but he doesn't answer for a couple beats. your head tilts back to look at him, taking in his profile. "i mean… maybe not the italy one anymore," he murmurs finally.

you take a measured breath. "the other ones?"

"babe, it's been ages since i made that. and that was before i took this position as president."

"exactly," you counter. "you're running the whole place differently now, kei. you can afford to take breaks." your hands drop from the paper to clasp overtop of his on top of your hips, following as they rest along your waist. keigo grumbles in some sort of protest and you continue speaking. "plus you don't have your wings anymore. it opens up a lot of options."

keigo huffs behind you, amused. his hands wander your waist and sides in silence before his lips find the shell of your ear. "think i can learn how to swim now?"

BUCKET LIST <- masterlist

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

[harrywavycurly]

There’s No Rush: Pinky

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language, mentions of drinking, mentions of anxiety and reader is very shy.

A/N: I made the decision to make this into an AU of sorts, where Niall is still an artist he just isn’t super famous and Harry works in the music industry but as a songwriter. I hope y’all enjoy this series it’s going to be fun!🎶

Tag List: @isinpfortvdmen @cumuluscranium @justagirlthatlovedtoread @secretisme4 @sweetmoonlove0214 @jerseygirlinca @christianaevans @purplekimijks @thislilmindofmine @jane-blogs04 @latedirectionerera

Summary: You run into Harry while preparing to give a speech at your bestfriend’s wedding and he introduces you to his Irish friend Niall🎶💕

As you scan the reception space you begin to regret agreeing to being in the bridal party. The amount of people sat at the long tables being washed in a warm light coming from the thousands of tiny fairy lights wrapped around the tree branches above is enough to have you breaking into a light sweat at the idea of having to give a speech in front of them. But of course you’ll still do it, Ginger being one of your oldest and dearest friends you’ll do just about anything for her but that doesn’t mean you won’t freak out about it first.

That’s how you end up at the bar mindlessly stirring your drink as you mentally go over the speech you’re due to give as soon as Ginger and Allen take their seats at the small table in the front. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath before you open them and raise your glass up so you can take a sip of your drink through the straw. Suddenly a loud laugh filters its way to your ears making you become aware that while you were consumed with trying to calm down your nerves two men have made their way to the bar. You watch as one of them with short curly brown hair, who you swear seems extremely familiar downs what looks to be a shot of some sort of clear liquor while the one with short brown hair laughs at his friend’s reaction to finishing the shot.

“I don’t know how you convince me to do things like that.” The man with curly hair says revealing his British accent that makes your shoulders drop in relief as you recognize who the voice belongs to, Harry Styles. He’s been a close friend of Ginger’s since she met him in a music theory class back in college, but you didn’t meet him until a few months later and since then he’s somehow wormed his way into your life and has become a very good friend of yours as well. It comes as no surprise that the first time you see him tonight is at the bar, he’s always been quite the party animal.

“Oh right like you needed a whole lot of convincing. Yer arse is the one who dragged me to the-”

“Is that Pinky I spy over there?” You’re too lost in the deep Irish accent coming from the short haired man that you don’t even notice that Harry has taken a step towards you with a playful smirk on his face while the man he’s with steps up to the bar and orders a drink.

“Fuck off Harry you know she hates that nickname.” Allen’s stern voice knocks you out of your trance, bringing you back to reality as you look at Harry who offers you a dimpled grin. You feel a hand on top of your shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze, you know Allen has always seen you as a little sister so he doesn’t hesitate to try to put an end to things he knows make you upset, such as the nickname Harry has been calling you since you met him nearly six years ago at a college party Ginger dragged you to.

“Oh come on we all know she doesn’t mind it.” Allen sends Harry a glare from his spot behind you. “Besides I personally adore how pink your cheeks are all the time.” Harry explains as he takes two small steps so he’s standing right in front of you, blocking your view of his Irish friend, you feel your face get hot as Harry shoots you a wink. “Come on Pinky get in here.” His voice is soft and sweet as he opens his arms up for a hug and against your better judgment you put your drink down and allow him to wrap his arms around your shoulders and pull you into a tight embrace.

“It’s nice to see you Harry.” Your voice gets lost in the fabric of his dress shirt as he begins to gently rock you back and forth while his hands rub up and down your back. You wonder for a moment if he can tell your nerves are through the roof and that’s why he’s doing these little things to calm you down or if he’s just a bit more handsy and clingy due to the shot he just took. But either way you find yourself melting into his embrace, something that always tends to happen with him as if he just knows exactly what to do to get you to relax.

“How’ve you been love?” He asks as he pulls away just enough so he can get a good look at your face making you instantly look down at the cross pendant that hits him right in the middle of his chest, not fully ready to look him in the eyes just yet.

“Uhm I’ve been go-good. Yeah I’ve been-been good.” You stumble through your answer making Harry nod while a small chuckle makes it way through him.

“What’s going on? What’s got you all wound up?” His voice is hushed so only you can hear him as his hands run up and down your arms. You let out a sigh as you slowly lift your head so you can look him in his emerald colored eyes making a smile stretch across his face once your eyes find his.

“Sorry I’m just a little nervous about my-my speech.”

“Oh that reminds me-” You turn to look at Allen over your shoulder as Harry drops his hands from your arms but doesn’t move from his place in front of you. “Ginger said you’re due up there in like ten minutes.” You know he can see the panic take over your face little by little as the words leave his mouth. “Don’t stress it okay? You’ll do great.” Is all he has time to offer you in terms of reassurance before he turns and grabs his drink from the bartender and heads towards his table.

“I don’t think he likes me very much.” Harry mumbles and before you can reply you’re suddenly being pulled into his side by the arm he somehow managed to drape over your shoulder without you even noticing. “Don’t worry about your speech Pinky you’re gonna smash it and besides half these people are drunk anyway so they won’t even-”

“Jesus H is this s’posed to be a pep talk?” You feel Harry’s arm drop down to around your middle as he turns the two of you towards the man with the Irish accent.

“No it’s better than a pep talk. It’s the truth.” Harry says with a playful wink sent your way when he glances down at you before looking back over to his friend. “Oh where are my manners? Pinky this is Niall Horan. Niall this is Pinky she’s the one who I told you used to crack into the campus records and change my D’s into B’s.”

“That’s-that’s not true I ne-never did that.” You shake your head and fumble with your words as Niall looks from Harry down to you with a warm smile that you would return if you could manage to look at him but instead you just decide to look down at his shoes as your whole face feels like it’s on fire as soon as you feel his eyes on you.

“She’s just being modest.” Harry gives your side a soft pinch, something he knows will get a little giggle out of you. “She’s a wiz on the computer that’s why she works in a dark little corner office for some cyber security company and gets paid to try to hack into things to find holes in their security systems.” You want to crawl into a hole as Harry tries to make your job sound way cooler than it is when in reality you’re just an accomplished computer nerd who gets to spend her days in peaceful solitude while typing away at the keyboard and staring at her monitors.

“Really? That’s so cool.” Niall’s voice doesn’t hold an ounce of sarcasm instead it’s full of awe as if he’s actually really impressed by your job, and you’d be able to really tell how impressed he is if only you’d dare to look up at his face but you’re not ready yet.

“Oh thanks but it’s actually not that cool.” You say in one long breath as you begin to mess with the ring on your index finger, trying your hardest not to let your awkwardness ruin the mood. Moments like this make you wish you were more outgoing and not so anxious and shy when it comes to meeting new people, but you can’t help it sometimes especially when your mind is elsewhere instead of trying to focus on forming complete sentences in front of an Irish dude named Niall Horan.

“Looks like you’re being summoned.” Niall’s words have you finally looking up from his feet and that’s when you get a real glimpse of his face. You feel your mouth go dry when you notice just how handsome he is and his eyes, you don’t think you’ve ever seen eyes so blue before.

“Pinky? You still in there or did you leave us?” You blink a few times as Harry waves his ring clad hand in front of your face.

“What? Sorry did-did you say something?” You stutter as Niall tries to hide the smile that wants to take over his face at the fact he caught you staring at him by bringing his drink up to his lips to take a sip. Harry laughs and shakes his head as he turns you around so he can lead you towards the front of the tables where you’re meant to stand to give your speech.

“Take a few deep breaths okay? I really meant it when I said you’ll be fine. This room is full of people who either don’t know you that well so they won’t really be listening or people who absolutely love you so you’re gonna kill it.” His hand is on your lower back as he maneuvers you around people that are heading off to their assigned seats at one of the many tables.

“Thanks Harry.” You whisper as the two of you finally make it to the little set up for the entertainment that’s set to go on after the speeches and toasts. It’s nothing more than a wooden stool and a microphone with two guitar stands and a piano all being lit up by warm fairy lights that are wrapped around some fake trees that blend in with the rest of the decor of the reception.

“I’ll be right over there.” He points towards the bar making you nod as you swallow down the nerves that are beginning to creep back up. “So if you feel like you’re about to panic just look at me okay? It’s the oldest trick in the book. Just pick something to stare at in the back of the room and you’ll be fine.” He grabs your hands as you stand next to the microphone, making sure he has your full attention as he bends his knees a bit so he’s eye level with you. “Deep breath Pinky come on.” You follow his instructions and take in a deep breath and let it out slowly through your nose making him smile as he gives your hands a nice squeeze.

“I think-think I’m good now.” You say with a smile making Harry grin as he stands up and lets go of your hands. “Just please don’t tell me if it sucks.” Harry laughs as he leans over and places a quick kiss to your cheek before he turns to head towards the bar.

“So you and uh Pinky seem close?” Niall doesn’t want to come across as suspicious but he can’t help it with the way he saw Harry treat you, he knows his friend is a very touchy feely person but he hasn’t ever known him to act like that with people he isn’t at least sort of interested in.

“I’ve known her for years.” Harry answers with a shrug all while never taking his eyes off the stage area as he leans back against the bar, Niall copies his movements after placing his half empty glass down on the bar top. “I don’t see her as often as I used to when we were in college because she doesn’t really get out much.” He adds as he runs a hand through his hair while Niall turns his focus towards the stage just in time to see you mess with the microphone stand trying to adjust its height.

“She seems-”

“Shy? Anxious? Awkwardly adorable?”

“Honestly? All three.” That answer makes Harry look over at Niall who is staring at you with a soft expression on his face making a smile tug at the corner of Harry’s mouth because he can tell Niall is at the very least intrigued by you.

“She doesn’t like large crowds or meeting new people. That’s especially tricky for her. When I met her at a party back in college it was because I accidentally bumped into her and when I went to apologize I swear her whole body turned pink she was so embarrassed as if it was her fault I ran into her.” Harry laughs at the memory of meeting you back in his wild party days when he had long hair and walked around with an attitude that made it seem like he didn’t have a care in the world, you’d argue that the only thing that’s changed about him is his hair is shorter now.

“And you managed to get her to want to be friends with you?” Niall questions with a quirked brow as he turns his attention away from you and over to Harry who shoots him a glare.

“I didn’t really give her a choice. She made me nervous to leave her alone after that because she just didn’t seem comfortable and I was worried someone would be an asshole about it so yeah I just forced my friendship on her and eventually she gave in.” It all starts to click in Niall’s mind as Harry divulges more details about his friendship with you. You’re someone he feels protective of and that seems to be a common thing among your friends, they all want to make sure you feel comfortable and safe.

“Uhm hello how is everyone?” Niall and Harry both turn their attention towards the stage as your voice hits their ears, amplified by the microphone you have a death grip on. “Incase you don’t know me I’m the maid of honor.” Niall smiles as you introduce yourself and he finally gets to hear what your actual name is.

Harry watches you like a proud older brother as you start in on your speech, his eyes are glued to you as he watches you look around the tables at all the people sitting and staring at you. Only when he sees your cheeks get flushed does he being to slightly panic that you’re about to have a moment where your nerves get the best of you making you stutter and stumble over your words. But to his surprise you seem to have taken his advice, he watches as your eyes shift over towards the back where he’s stood leaning against the bar but it’s not his eyes you’re staring into it’s the sapphire blue ones that belong to his friend that’s standing right next to him.

Everything happens in what feels like a blur and suddenly people are clapping and the best man is walking up towards you so he can begin his speech. Offering you a warm smile and a quick hug before he takes the microphone from you, whispering his praises for the kind words you spoke about Ginger and the happy couple in your ear making you blush. You give a few small waves to your friends and blow a kiss to Ginger and Allen as you pass them on your way to the bar so you can get something to wash your nerves down with.

“That was a lovely speech Pinky you did so good.” Harry’s voice is full of pride as he approaches you with open arms right before you reach the bar. “I’m so proud of you.” You smile as your arms wrap around his middle while his go around your shoulders pulling you into a warm hug.

“It didn’t suck?” You ask quietly making Harry laugh as he gives you a squeeze.

“It was perfect.” He answers as you pull away and look up at him. He leans down so his lips are close to your ear. “Niall was quite impressed as well. Couldn’t take his eyes off you the whole time.” He whispers making your heart feel as if it could burst out of the chest with how fast it’s beating.

“Oh uh really? I didn’t-didn’t notice.” Harry just laughs as your face gets warm and you stumble a bit trying to get your words out in a rush.

“Is that so?” You know he’s teasing you as the two of you pull away but Harry keeps a hand on your arm. “You didn’t notice he was staring at you while you were also staring right at him?” You feel your eyes go a bit wide at Harry’s question, you didn’t even realize you had been staring at Niall until a little towards the end of your speech when you looked away from him and towards Ginger and Allen. “Don’t worry I’m not jealous or anything.” He jokes as he gives your arm a squeeze before leaning in and placing another kiss to your cheek.

“Keep a seat open for me okay? I don’t want to be stuck at the losers table.” You roll your eyes as he drops his hand from your arm and steps around you towards the stage area where the best man is still giving his speech.

“My table is for the bridal party Harry you can’t sit with me.”

“I know the bride and I know how to party so that sounds like the exact table I should be at.” You laugh and shake your head at his response, not bothering to argue with him because you know he will just work his charm on an unsuspecting bridesmaid and end up sitting at the table anyway. With a final wink and grin sent your direction Harry is off leaving you able to finish the short walk to the bar so you can order a drink.

“Sparkling water with lots of lemon please.” The bartender just smiles and nods before working on your very uncomplicated drink order.

“Aren’t you missin somethin with that order?” Niall feels a twinge of guilt hit him when he sees you jump at the sound of his voice. “Sorry didn’t meant t’scare you.” He quickly apologizes as he takes a small step towards you just as you get your drink handed to you.

“Oh you-uhm uh did-didn’t scare me.” You want to curl up in a ball at how dumb you sound trying to get an extremely simple sentence out but you just blame it on the post speech jitters and try to move on. “And uhm I don’t really drink but I like-like the bubbles and it looks like a cocktail so no one notices.” Niall nods along as you explain your drink choice to him, feeling a small bubble of pride grow in his chest at the fact you’re sharing a personal little fact with him.

“That’s brilliant.” He can’t help but smile as he leans his hip against the bar so he is now fully facing you, he doesn’t mind that you haven’t looked at him yet he knows you’re shy and honestly he is enjoying the freedom of being able to look at you without the worry of being caught. “Your speech was great.” He catches the way your cheeks get red and a smile takes over your face as his words hit your ears.

“Thank you Niall.” The way your voice sounds when it says his name makes Niall wants to hear you say it over and over again because it makes his heart flutter a bit in his chest. “So are you uh here with Harry?” You finally find the courage to turn your head to look at him, or at least down at his hand that is wrapped around a glass of brown liquid with two ice cubes that he has resting on the bar.

“M’actually the entertainment for tonight’s festivities Harry got me the gig so he’s gonna be my guitarist for a few songs he helped me write.” Niall takes a moment to let his eyes roam over your figure as you continue to just look at his hand that is now gripping the glass with a little more force than he was a moment ago.

“Oh I uhm didn’t know Harry played guitar.” Your words snap Niall out of his only slightly inappropriate thoughts as his eyes find yours. If he didn’t have such good control of himself he would’ve been startled by you suddenly deciding to look him in the eyes but instead he just stares right back at you, matching your intensity.

“Ah well then yer in for a treat tonight. He’s actually pretty decent at it.”

“And you-uhm you-”

“Sing? Yeah I sing and play the piano as well as the guitar.” He finishes your question for you making you give him a soft smile as a silent thank you because it lets you know he can tell you’re a little flustered but he isn’t making a big thing out of it like some people tend to do.

“I’ve always wanted to learn the piano.” You tell him as you look away, needing a moment to regather your thoughts and get your heartbeat under control.

“I could teach you.” Niall tosses the offer out there in hopes it’ll give him an excuse to get your number but when you look like a dear that’s been caught in a set of headlights he regrets how casual he made it sound because surely you’re probably assuming that’s a line he uses all the time but it’s not. Niall honestly hates teaching people how to play instruments especially since the last person he taught how to play something was Harry when he begged him to teach him the guitar, but for you he’d make an exception because he just wants to spend more time with you.

“I uh don’t-”

“We have a situation.” You feel a hand on your shoulder taking your attention away from Niall and over towards Heather, a bridesmaid and Allen’s younger sister.

“Oh okay what’s wrong?” You try not to panic while a few dozen scenarios begin to play out in your mind of what the situation could be as you turn so your back is facing the bar.

“Harry is trying to add a seat-”

“I’ll get him.” Niall’s voice makes both you and Heather turn to look at him, he downs the rest of his drink setting the empty glass on the bar before he heads off towards the curly haired man causing havoc at the bridal party table.

“Who is that?”

“Niall Horan.”

“He’s cute.”

“Oh I uh yeah if you’re in-into that kinda look.”

“And Irish.”

“Is he? I didn’t-uhm didn’t notice.”

“Right.” She drags out the word while giving you a knowing look as your eyes land on Niall as he grabs Harry by the shoulders and begins leading him off towards the stage set up.

“Harry you’re gonna get us kicked out of your own friend’s wedding for Christ sake get it together.” Niall whispers harshly in Harry’s ear as his grip on his shoulders tightens.

“Oh relax I was just checking if any of the bridesmaids needed anything.” Harry says with a laugh like him trying to squeeze himself in at the table wasn’t that big of a deal, he shrugs himself loose of Niall’s grip and sends him a playful smirk. “Besides you’re the one who would get us kicked out with how much of a poor mess you’re making Pinky over there.” Niall stops in his tracks the moment Harry mentions you, not following Harry up onto the stage.

“What do you mean? I’ve been nothin but polite to her.” Harry grabs his guitar that’s set up on stage and turns to face Niall who looks like he’s about to have a mini panic attack making Harry laugh.

“She hasn’t been this much of a blushing and fumbling mess since-well since I met her.”

“I think it’s cute the uh way she blushes all the time and messes up her words a bit.”

“Yeah well the way you’ve got her acting like a shy little schoolgirl surely won’t go unnoticed by Allen and Ginger.” Harry explains as he begins to mess with his guitar making sure it’s good to go for the first two songs Niall has set for the evening. “Those two are like her personal security but don’t worry Ginger is a sweetheart but Allen he-he can be a real wanker when he wants to be.” Niall runs a hand through his hair as he steps up onto the stage and grabs his own guitar.

“So if I win over the bride you think I could maybe get her number? Or you think she’d freak out if I asked her for it? M’not trying to push her over the edge or anything.” Niall looks at Harry as he adjusts the strap of his guitar he has over his shoulder. Harry takes a moment to think before he gives Niall a grin and reaches for his phone in the front pocket of his slacks.

“Oh what the hell you’re a nice guy.” Niall rolls his eyes at Harry’s statement as he watches him tap the screen a few times until he finds your contact information. “I’ll give you her number.” With that Harry shares your contact information with Niall who stands there with wide eyes, shocked that Harry just tossed all caution to the wind and sent him your information without even checking with you first.

“But if you hurt her I will kill you with my bare hands.” It’s the casual way Harry threatens Niall that has him believing he really would make good on it, the way the smile leaves his face as he looks Niall dead in the eyes making Niall just swallow hard and nod his head in understanding. With that the smile returns to Harry’s face and he slips his phone back into his pocket before going back to adjusting his guitar strap.

As Niall stands on the stage and gets himself ready to start his set he feels as if someone is looking at him. So when he looks up from the guitar in his hands he quickly realizes who it was as his eyes scan the tables that are situated next to the small dance floor in front of the stage. He watches your face turn a deep shade of pink as you look down at your lap, the bridesmaid sitting next to you giggles as she leans in and whispers something in your ear making you place your hands over your face in embarrassment. He smiles to himself as he looks down at the instrument in his hands, he knows he just met you and that you don’t know each other at all but the idea of you letting him learn more about you has a sense of excitement bubbling up inside of Niall. He just hopes you don’t mind how he ended up with your number but that’s something he is willing to risk because you’re not someone he can see himself forgetting about anytime soon.

[vintagebueckers]

   ꒰       ࣪˖𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ─  𝓟𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅 , lamelo ball    .ᐟ  .ᐣ       ꒱

★ he needed to be nothing like your ex and everything your parents hated. he needed to be loud, flashy, heavily tattooed, and slight obnoxious. everything your ex boyfriend wasn't, just to spite your ex for cheating on you with some no name bitch at a party and your parents for constantly pushing you to date there friends insufferable children. they were all the same, insecure, shallow and boring. sure you would go along with it for your parents sake, but there was only so much jealousy and fragile male ego you could take before you had enough.

★ and today was that day. this wasn't by any mean's a premeditated plan of action. no quite the opposite, it was a spur of the moment decision that was born from boredom and a result of retail therapy on you ex's card (which he didn't know was missing) failing to lift your spirits. that's when you decided date someone you knew would get a rise out of both your ex boyfriend and parents, kill two birds with one stone.

★ someone so outlandish and removed from the safe cookie cutter rich boy's you were use to having on your arm, and someone who could both give your mother a heart attack and make your ex spiral with jealousy before the weeks end. it was a masterstroke of genuine, and to be honest you should have though about doing this sooner. it was genius, all you had to do was go on a date have the paparazzi snap a few pictures and boom everyone who you wanted to be pissed of would be that and then some in a matter of seconds.

★ your friend had set this up for you, her text stating that she had found the perfect person for your devious plan and send you the link to a reservation at you favourite new york restaurant with a hundred percent guarantee of paparazzi being present. guaranteeing your face would be all over the front page by nine o' clock tomorrow, though your friend wouldn't say who would be waiting for you at the restaurant. and though you would never admit it.

★ the idea of not knowing who you were meeting in advance made you nervous, as while you did want to piss of as many people as humanly possible in twenty four hours. what if this went horribly wrong? you mulled it over during the two hours you took to get ready, as you picked out your best outfit, applying a light face of make-up but with a sharp eye as to not look to plain, giving yourself a simple yet effortless hairstyle to tie it all together. before adding the final finishing touches, simple yet elegant jewellery and perfume. and by the time you were done, your driver was waiting to whisk you away.

★ which means it was to late to turn back now. any trace of uncertainty you had the moment you stepped out of the car, game faces only. but nothing could have prepared you for the shock of who was at the table. lamelo ball, your ex's favourite basketball player someone who he would yack on about for hours at a time to the point it had become white noise. a smile tugged at your lips as you walked to the table "this seat taken?" you asked knowing full well what the answer would be. "nah, all your ma." he said standing up to pull out her chair "you come here often, or am I just lucky tonight?" oh now this was going to be fun "show me a good time and you'll find out handsome"

all rights reserved, ©vintagebueckers.

[raven-dor]

tell me you love me

in which bucky barnes is told some startling news on the phone…

PAIRING: bucky barnes x reader, bucky barnes x avenger!reader

WARNINGS: miscommunication, nosy roommates, sass, sam wilson teasing peter parker, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

🎶 : two hands - tate mcrae

AN: literally one of my favorite fics i've ever written!! also, this is a Avengers live in the tower AU, no civil war ever occurred, so yay!! ALSO - let me know if you want to be on my taglist!! i'd love to have you!!

It had been out of nowhere. You hadn’t even realized the gravity of the situation until you were met with silence from the other line. 

“What’s for dinner?” His gruff voice had shivers running down your spine.

“I don’t know.” You hummed, the phone tucked between your shoulder and ear as you walked down the grocery store aisles. “What are you craving?” 

“Burgers?” It was more of a question, he was waiting for you to confirm you were also craving said meal. He always did this, waiting for you to decide before he made his decision. It was not missed by you that earlier that week, you’d talked about how badly you craved a classic cheeseburger.

You laughed, the others in the aisle giving you annoyed looks, not that you minded. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Barnes.” 

“Oh?” You could tell he was holding back laughter. “You would think after all that time in HYRDA...” 

“Bucky!” You yelled, this time noticing the looks your fellow shoppers gave you. Whispering, you chuckled to yourself. “Don’t joke about that.” 

“Why not?” He was most certainly frowning. 

“If that’s how you want to cope…” You trailed off, looking at the price tag on the buns, eyes widening at the amount and quickly setting them back down. “You sleep well?” 

“Next to you? Always.” He sounded spirited, much more spirited than he’d been when you left him to go shopping. Good, you told yourself, he was too often found brooding alone, it was nice to hear him so… so mischievous. “You know I do, Doll.” 

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, biting your bottom lip to keep from grinning too widely. “I know. Just wanted to hear you say it.” 

Grabbing the meat from the deli counter, you walked toward the checkout, frowning when you saw that the self-checkout kiosks were out of order. “Babe?” 

He hummed. 

“I’m gonna have to let you go, okay? The kiosks are out of order.” 

He groaned. “Again?”

You nodded as if he could see you. “Unfortunately.” 

“I’ll see you soon, then.” 

“See you soon. I love you.” The peace before the realization had been fleeting, reality hitting you like a truck. Almost instantly, your heart flipped, and your eyes widened.

Bucky had been dead silent, and you secretly hoped your voice had cut out, that the service had saved you, and he hadn’t heard it. 

Not that you didn’t mean it. You’d loved him for longer than you cared to admit, but with his past, you hadn’t wanted to rush anything. You didn’t want him to feel forced. Like right now.

“Buck?” You whispered, eyes welling at his lack of response. “Are you there?” Again, no response. You pushed the red button, hands shaking as the call disconnected.

Shit. 

Which led you to now, racing home without the food you’d promised. When the team had decided to all live in the tower together, they made a pact. If you asked anyone else, it had been more of a forced pact, thanks to Steve. 

Each Avenger would make dinner, alternating every night. Today had been your day, and now not only were you coming home empty-handed, but you were also planning to drop off the face of the Earth, which completely defeated the purpose of your job and its responsibilities. 

It was a wonder, you told yourself as you waited for the elevator doors to open, that Bucky hadn’t been there to meet you in the lobby, waiting for an explanation. Or worse, disgust on his perfect face. 

You kept your head down as you landed on the top floor, all but running to your room. Slamming the door behind you, you ordered Friday to bar everyone from entering.

The computer system spoke back, voice as posh as ever. “Does that include Mr. Barnes?” 

“Yes.” You huffed, heart thumping. “Especially Mr. Barnes.” 

“Has something happened?”

“You could say that.” Checking under your bed, the balcony, the closet, and the bathroom, a sigh of relief left you knowing that Bucky wasn’t already there, hiding.

Everything had been perfect, up until your slip. He asked to take it slow, mainly due to ‘not wanting to disrupt the team dynamic.’ You’d understood, and you’d also understood that he had another reason, one that he wouldn’t speak aloud, but that you both knew. 

He wanted to take it slow and slow did not contain saying ‘I love you’ four months after you started dating. 

A knock rang through your room, breaking you from your thoughts. Looking at the door with fear pumping through your veins, you waited for him to speak. 

“Y/N?” 

You’d almost sighed with relief. Almost. “Yeah?” 

“What’d you end up getting for dinner?” Nat called out. “Wilson’s asking.” 

“I-” Grabbing your wallet, you slid your credit card under the door. “Order whatever you want.” 

“Okay.” Nat sounded curious. “So, what happened?” 

“Why- why would you ask that?” 

“Other than the fact you won’t show your face, and Friday is barricading me from entering?” The super-spy sounded fed up. “What did he do?” 

“He?” Your voice was a mere squeak. 

“Yes, he. Everyone knows you two are dating, don’t act so surprised. It’s my job to know these sorts of things.” 

You glared at the door. “That’s not at all your job, Natasha.” 

“What’s going on?” 

You groaned, shoving your face into your pillow. At this point, the whole team would know your business by dinner. “Go away, Wanda.” 

“What’s happened?” The Sokovian whispered.

“Barnes did something,” Nat muttered. “Won’t say what exactly, but-” 

“Nat!” You yelled, lifting your head. “I can hear you, you know.” 

“Let us in, Y/N.” Wanda sounded as if she was frowning. “What did he do that was so bad-” 

“It wasn’t him.” You sighed. “It- it was me.” 

“What happened?” Wanda’s voice was gentle. “You can tell us.” 

“I really can’t.” You whined. “One second.” Grabbing a piece of paper from your desk, you scribbled down the infamous three words, slipping it under the door. “Shit, Y/L/N. Isn’t that a little soon?” 

Your eyes widened. “What the hell, you two? Why is Sam there?” 

Wanda sounded deeply apologetic. “It’s not just Sam.” 

“I’m here too.” Peter squeaked. 

“Me too.” Tony’s voice sounded much too entertained, and you glared at the door.

“Yeah!” Clint sounded suspiciously high like he was in the vents again. You reminded yourself to reprimand him when the dust cleared. 

“Y/N! Why are you hiding in your room?” Thor’s thunderous voice rang clear over the rest of the supposed crowd that had formed. 

“Thor.” Bruce sounded extremely annoyed. “We’re inside, you don’t need to shout.” 

“Yeah, what the green guy said.” Rhodey’s voice echoed. 

“Go away!” You yelled, sitting against the door. “I-” 

“What’s going on here?” Steve’s voice sounded distant, like he was walking down the hall. You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for him to do what everyone else had done. 

But it never came. 

“Have any of you seen Buck? Last time I saw him, he was on the phone. Haven’t seen him since.” 

You were certain Nat and Tony were smirking. “Why don’t you ask Y/N.” 

“Why? Are they together?” 

Tony sounded like he was holding back tears, not from sadness, but from laughter. “After this? Questionable.” 

“Tony!” You yelled, smacking the door. “Shut up!” 

“Give me that.” Getting off the floor, you looked through the peephole, watching in horror as he read the paper. “Break it up, all of you.” Protests broke out, all of them yelling at Steve. “We’re not talking about this any longer. It’s not our business.” 

“C’mon-” 

Steve glared at the billionaire, and he instantly shut up. “Tony.” 

He raised his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. What’s for dinner then?” 

“Whatever you want.” You yelled out. “Just use my card.”

Tony shook his head. “After the day you’ve had, it’s my treat.” 

You nodded, a faint smile gracing your lips. “Just leave the food at my door when it gets here.” 

“No.” Steve’s hands were on his hips, and you could see Peter and Wanda holding back laughter. He looked like a concerned father. “You will leave your room and have dinner with the rest of us.” 

“Yeah, Y/N.” Tony echoed, not even trying to hide his laughter. “C’mon out.” 

“Steve, please.” You begged. “I can’t see him right now.” 

“He’s not even here, дорогой (sweetheart),” Wanda yelled out. “Please come out, we’re worried about you.” 

“I am not leaving.” You shook your head. “You can’t make me.” 

The dinner table was quiet, the entirety of the Avengers (minus Bucky) staring at you with utter fascination. Well, more like a mix of pity, worry, and fascination. 

Peter cleared his throat, smiling kindly. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I did the same thing, and it all turned out fine.” 

That brought you some inkling of hope. “Really?” 

The teenager nodded. “She was very nice about it. We’re still friends.” 

Your face fell, dropping your head into your hands. The table erupted with laughter, and Peter’s cheeks grew bright red in record time. 

“Not exactly the smartest thing you could’ve said there, kid.” Tony snickered.

“Ease up, Tony,” Steve interjected. “He’s trying, unlike all of you.” 

“He meant well.” Vision finally spoke, much to everyone’s surprise. “There was no malice in his tone.” 

Clint smirked. “Yeah, Y/N. No malice. Does that bring you comfort?”

You raised your right hand, flipping him off.  

Sam shook his head. “I just want to eat, man. Eat, and see Bucky’s reaction.” 

Sitting up, you glared at the Falcon. “You’re excited for my demise, you psychopath.” 

“Not exactly.” 

“What’s-” The table turned around, dead silent as they stared at the Winter Soldier, who looked perfectly fine, content even. He stood in front of them with a bright smile, food in hand. “What’s going on?” 

“What’s going on?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you tell us?” You wished your superpower was invisibility. Unfortunately, it was not, so you opted for sinking further into your seat. “Nothing happened recently you want to share?” 

His smile fell. “No?”

Sam groaned, standing up and pulling the food from the super soldier’s hands. “Please. I’m starving.” 

Nat laughed. “I thought you wanted to see his reaction.” 

“Reaction?” Bucky sounded confused. “Reaction to what, exactly?” 

Thor was the final push. “I love you!” 

“I love you too?” Bucky sat down, eyes brightening when he met yours. You quickly stared at your hands, which were placed in tight balls in your lap. 

“Not me. Y/N. The words Y/N-” 

Clint slapped a hand over Thor’s mouth, glaring. “That’s enough out of you, big guy.” 

“What?” Bucky tilted his head, staring at you, with what seemed to be a glimpse of hope in his gaze. “When did you-” 

“On the phone?” Nat interjected. “You were on the phone, and Y/N said-” 

“Nat.” You hissed. “Stop, please.” 

“Y/N?” Bucky looked at you. “What’s going on?” 

So the phone had cut out. The phone had cut out, meaning if you had just kept your big mouth shut, everything would have been fine. 

And if Thor hadn’t opened his mouth, maybe you could have made it out with your dignity. “Nothing, James.” Reaching out, you grabbed your order from the pile, the rest of the Avengers following suit. Bucky stayed still, staring at you intently. 

You tried to focus on your dinner, on the conversation that started after, but every time you looked up, he was staring at you with his ice-blue eyes. “Doll?” The table quieted, staring at the pair. “Can we talk?” 

You swallowed the food that you’d been chewing, nodding slowly. You felt like you were being marched to your death as you followed him out of the dining room. Sparing one last look at the dinner table, Wanda and Peter gave you a half-hearted thumbs up. 

The hall was dim, Bucky’s eyes bore into your soul as he waited for an explanation. “Tell me what happened.” 

“Nothing-” You grew small when he sighed, crossing his arms. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” 

“Yeah?” He smirked, but you could tell he was panicking. You told each other everything, you were sure he was breaking a sweat from your lack of transparency. “Then tell me.” You stayed silent, and he took a step forward, practically backing you up against the wall. “Please, Doll.” 

You were sure this was a nightmare. A horrible horrible nightmare. “We were on the phone… and I um… I may or may not have said that I love you.” He did not react, continuing to stare at you. That’d made you even more nervous, and you began to ramble as a result. “And you didn’t reply, so I panicked, and then I hung up. I came home and hid in my room and then everyone found out and then I found out you didn’t even hear it, and-” You took a shallow breath. “I don’t want you to feel rushed or forced because I want you to feel comfortable, because I really do-” You stopped, looking up at him hesitantly. “I really do love you.” He was fully grinning now, and you frowned. “Are you about to laugh at me?” 

He shook his head placing his hand on the wall above you as he leaned down. “No.” 

“No?” You scoffed, ignoring the way his eyes had darkened. “You’re smirking, and I’m being vulnerable and you’re- you-” You huffed, walking away from him. “Maybe we should just-” Escape had almost been achieved when his metal hand wrapped around your wrist, spinning you around. “Stop.” You felt trapped in a spell, a horrifyingly beautiful spell. He stared at you so intensely that your knees buckled. “Buck-” 

He was still grinning. “I love you too.” 

“I-” You smiled. “You do?” 

“C’mon Doll.” He teased, brushing his nose against yours as he reached for your lips. “Of course I do.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, still not believing this was real life. “You-” His lips were rushed; like he needed to kiss you to live. Placing his other arm around your waist, he pulled you impossibly close, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. He could have gone on kissing you senseless for hours, but you pulled away, gasping for air. “Buck-” 

“You are so considerate, too considerate even.” He whispered. “I did want to take things slow, you’re right.” 

You nodded. “If you-” 

“Did I-” He kissed you before you could finish your sentence. “Or did I not,” He kissed you so gently, so longingly. “Just tell you that I love you too?” 

You were positively weak in the knees. “You did.” 

“I did want to take things slow, but you…” He almost growled. “You happened.” 

“Oh?” You were grinning now, actually grinning. “I’m assuming I happened in a good way.” 

“In a perfect way.” He corrected, pushing a hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “You’re too good for me, Doll. Don’t deserve you.” 

“I don’t know, Barnes.” You shook your head, kissing the corner of his mouth so lightly he could have sworn it never happened. “You’re pretty swell.” 

He rolled his eyes, pushing you away teasingly. “Never mind then.” 

You gasped, stalking back into the dining room, the Avengers observing from the safe distance the table provided. “In that case-” 

His hand wrapped around your wrist once more, pulling your lips to his instantly. Wolf whistles erupted, all of them laughing at the couple in front of them. Your hands rested on his chest, smiling as he pulled away, lips still touching. “Did you really have to do that?” 

He shrugged. “Just wanted another reason to kiss you.” 

“So sappy.” You teased. “What a charmer you are.” 

“Well,” He leaned toward your ear, whispering. “I aim to please.” 

“Break it up!” Sam yelled, mouth full of food. “I’m trying to eat here. Plus…” He pointed to Peter, laughing. “There’s kids present.” 

“I’m eighteen, Sam.” 

“Still a kid, Parker.” 

taglist:

[funlovingfuzzball]

My girl Bunny was living well on palliative care when her little body gave out on her, but we were constantly checking to make sure the pain meds were actually cutting it, and we would have put her to sleep in a heartbeat if it stopped being enough before she was gone. She lived well until the end. But if she wasn’t, I wouldn’t have hesitated to let her go. I was always watching for the day she stopped being happy, and though she never got there before the day she fell asleep and never woke up, I was constantly ready to act if she did.

Anon, if you knew he would be suffering otherwise, you made a good decision. Do I constantly regret I couldn’t save Bunny? Absolutely. But was there any series of events that *would* have saved her? No. You did the best you could, anon, and it’s fine to feel regret without feeling guilt. I also wish your dog lived forever and was super duper healthy the whole time. That he and Bunny and everyone else’s late pets could still be with us. But he isn’t, and that sucks, and yet you did a right thing.

I can’t promise it was the right thing. I can’t promise perfection. But it was absolutely a right thing. And as with all things in life, that needs to be enough

- Miriam

Hey so years ago we had to get my childhood dog euthanized because he was in pain that he wasn’t gonna recover from, he also had breathing problems and such (i remember something about a collapsed trachea but i don’t know if i’m remembering correctly)

But i still feel bad for not being able to make him feel better, even all these years later and with two more dogs

Any ideas on how to not feel guilty about it?

Sueanoi here,

End-of-life care are a controversial topic that each country has its own preferred ways of dealing with. Within the norm of a country, each persons will have varying degree of opinion. Some prefer the animals not have to experience the in-coming suffering at all. Some prefer the animals be under pain control until nothing works anymore, THEN be allowed to sleep. Some ... well they never put their animals to sleep because of various reasons (ex: religion, belief that we shouldn't decide when life ends, etc). Each of the choices have their pros and cons. Each choices have their own consequences. None of them are more wrong than the other. After all, none of us wants to see our beloved animal go. Ideally, we want them to stay forever, don't we?

but Alas, that choice is unavailable to us. What is the next best thing to do when the end is near?

I'm of the choice of "depends".

I am a Buddhist, living in a Buddhist-majority country. "Killing" is a precept that we largely feel it's a taboo to do. It is frowned upon for vets to perform this. Which is why I personally have never performed euthanasia "before" suffering begins. However, despite the taboo, I have performed one when it's early, and one when it's late. and I have also watched an animal rot before me while it's still alive because the owner won't allow me to perform it until the very end.

I'd say that last one isn't ideal. It's not one that I'd recommend anyone allow their animals to experience.

For an animal whose remaining life will consist of worsening, uncontrollable pain, choosing to end it early - before it becomes unbearable, is a valid choice that I would offer my clients. whether they accept it or not is up to them.

and frankly, I breathe a sigh of relief, when the owner choose to allow me to perform it - preferably somewhere before the late stage of suffering. I wouldn't suggest it any earlier than when it's appropriate. I like to think that your vet is of the same mind. Whether or not that appropriate time is the same criteria as mine, it had to have been an appropriate time for them to suggest it.

I hope that's helpful to ease your mind somewhat. I am sorry for your loss. Grief is a cost of loving, one that I'd keep paying because it's worth it. You grief because you loved. It only makes you human. Your dog was fortunate to have your love while it's here in this world, and that's all that matters to this little life that was so temporary.

[tommiib]

The Mistake We Keep Making ~ P.SH

warnings: angst, suggestive, depressed reader, infidelity, cheating, self hatred, toxic hwa.

wc: 1.5k

Just a little drabble.. I hope you enjoy!

How did you end up here? Naked. Vulnerable. Sticky.

It’s a tale you’re all too familiar with, a story that should have ended long ago—one that should have never begun. You know it’s wrong, but you can’t help it. Not when he smiles at you like you’ve made his day, not when he brings you lunch during your grueling study sessions, not when he’s between your legs, devouring you like you’re his last meal, whispering how beautiful you are, how sweet you taste, how good you feel. Not when he looks up at you with hooded eyes, bottom lip quivering as he spills into you. Not when you collapse into each other, bodies tangled, drowning in a high you were never meant to share.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be with him.

You both knew it.

--------

“Y/N.”

Your name pulls you back, snapping you out of your daze. You’ve been zoning out more lately—a side effect of exhaustion, of self-inflicted chaos. The weight of your last year in university, the pressures of grad school applications, a demanding internship, moving out of your old apartment before the lease expires. You’re barely holding it together, and maybe that’s why you keep making the same mistakes. Why you keep letting him in.

“Huh—oh, yes?” you blink, refocusing on Lara, her golden nose ring glinting under the soft apartment lighting. Gorgeous as ever, her warm brown skin flawless, her long red curls framing a face too symmetrical to be real.

“You’re scaring me,” she says, eyes scanning you with concern. “You keep zoning out. I think you have too much on your plate.”

She knows you too well. She always has. You’re a chronic overachiever, running yourself into the ground without ever leaving space to breathe. The difference is, Lara has balance. She’s just as busy—final year, business major, yet somehow her life is seamless. Perfect boyfriend, a family with money, an apartment that isn’t suffocating under the weight of bad decisions.

Meanwhile, you trick yourself into thinking that 5am gym sessions compensate for the disorder of your life, that productivity masks your wreckage. You can’t even remember a time when you weren’t a mess.

“I think so too,” you admit, sighing. “But I’m too deep in. I worked so hard for that internship, I can’t screw it up now. Maybe once I finish moving, things will settle.” You take a sip of your hot chocolate, hoping the warmth will calm your nerves.

“I literally offered to hire movers for you.”

“Okay, but who’s going to unpack all my shit?”

“I said I’d help you.”

You shake your head. “I don’t like people touching my things.”

Lara scoffs. “Why do you make things so hard for yourself?”

You don’t know. You really don’t. But it’s a pattern—one you can’t seem to break.

“You know I like doing things myself, Lara. If I can’t handle it alone, then what’s the point?” It’s a mindset etched into your bones.

She exhales sharply, rolling her eyes. “I don’t understand you.”

“Me neither.” You chuckle, but it’s hollow.

She convinces you to let her help with the move, and though you resist, you’re relieved. You’re grateful to have her, even if a small, ugly part of you resents how effortlessly put-together she is.

You’ve known Lara since third grade, since you found her beating up the class bully, Seth. You were inseparable after that. Her 4’9, 60-pound eight-year-old self had taken on the biggest guy in the grade and won. She was fearless, independent, kind—all the things you pretend to be. Maybe that’s why you push away her help. Accepting it feels like pity. It’s cruel to feel that way about your best friend, but you can’t help it.

She’s perfect without trying. And you…

You’re crying. Alone. In your car. In the parking garage of Lara’s apartment.

Pathetic.

You slam your forehead against the steering wheel, frustration bubbling up in your throat. You’re so sick of crying. Sick of feeling. Sick of yourself. The weight of everything—the past, the present, the future—presses down on your chest, suffocating.

Your phone vibrates.

A name you should’ve erased long ago lights up your screen.

Hwa: I want to see you.

You exhale sharply, fingers tightening around your phone. He always seems to find you when you’re at your lowest. As if he has a sixth sense for your weakness. But the truth is, you wouldn’t have said no even if he’d texted at any other time.

You: I need you, Hwa.

And that’s the worst part.

Because it’s not just loneliness. It’s not just sex. It’s something much darker, much deeper. A sickness rooted in your bones, in your mind, in the way you let yourself believe that this—this—is the only way you can feel anything at all.

Maybe that’s why you always end up in his bed.

Even though you know that’s not where you’re supposed to be.

-------

Seonghwa’s fingers trace the curve of your jaw, tilting your face toward his. The warmth of his touch sends a slow burn through your veins, igniting something reckless inside you.

“Angel,” he murmurs, voice smooth, coaxing. “Look at me.”

You do, blinking up at him from where you rest in his lap, curled into him on the couch. He smells like cedarwood and sin, his presence intoxicating. The movie playing on the screen is long forgotten, drowned out by the steady drum of your pulse.

It’s always the same routine—he comes over, you eat, you talk, you fuck. Repeat. Some nights feel different. Some nights, he lingers. Holds you a little longer. Whispers things in the dark that make your chest ache. Tonight is one of those nights.

His wife and daughter are away for the weekend, visiting family. He couldn’t go because of work.

You don’t know who you hate more. Him. His wife. Or yourself.

You hum softly, lashes fluttering as you meet his gaze. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, eyes darkening.

“You’re so quiet tonight,” he muses. “What’s on your mind?”

Everything. Nothing. You.

Instead of answering, you shift in his lap, pressing your thighs together. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed. His hand tightens on your jaw, the other gripping your waist. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyes locked onto yours, heavy with intent.

He leans in, breath warm against your skin.

“Tell me what you need.”

You swallow, heart hammering. You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t. But your body betrays you, melting into him, chasing his warmth.

You whisper the words you always do, the ones that keep you bound to him in this cycle of ruin.

“You.”

Without hesitation, Hwa leans down, his lips meeting yours with a tenderness that should not belong to you. It is slow, deliberate—loving. The kind of kiss a man gives his wife, the kind of kiss a man should give his wife. And yet, here he is, pressing that devotion into you, stealing what was never yours to have.

"Hwa," you breathe between his kisses, your voice barely a whisper, more of a plea than a protest. 

"Hm?" He hums, lost in you, unaware—or perhaps too aware—of how he unravels you piece by piece. 

"You're so gentle tonight," you murmur, tilting your head to grant him access, surrendering before you can think twice. His lips trail down your jaw, onto the delicate skin of your neck, his breath warm against your pulse. 

"I finally have as much time with you as I want," he says, each word pressing into you like a brand. "I'm going to take my time. Savor you. Every part of you."

The words hit deep, sinking into the hollow spaces you pretend don’t exist. He wants to savor you. To be with you. To consume you slowly, as if you are something precious, something worth lingering over. But are you? Is this self-destruction or indulgence? Is this a wound or a reward?

"I missed you so much, angel. Your smell, your face, your taste. Always so pretty for me. You know that?" 

Here he goes again, whispering the words he knows will break you apart, dissolving the fragile pieces of your restraint. He knows you too well. Maybe that’s why he chose you. He knew you were empty, a void waiting to be filled, so he poured himself into you—made you whole in the only way he knew how. Physical love, fleeting love, the kind that fades with the morning light. Because there’s no way he could truly love you, right?

Hwa strips away his shirt, then yours, discarding them like the last remnants of reason. His hands are firm yet reverent as he lifts you, carrying you toward your empty, half-packed room. He stumbles over a box, nearly losing balance, and you let out a quiet laugh. 

He silences you with a kiss, deep and claiming, before laying you tenderly onto the mattress. 

Tonight, you are his. 

Tonight, he is yours. 

And when the morning comes, reality will take him back. 

But for now—for now, he lingers.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Wildflower-Part 2

Jay Halstead x Reader (Nicknamed Wildflower)

You and Jay both adjust to him being home and someone else figures out Leah’s parentage

As soon as you hit the six week mark to go back to work, Sylvie and Matt helped you to get Leah into the same daycare that Julia was in. You would drop her off in the morning when you headed into shift. It wasn’t far from the station house and well vetted by Voight. You trusted it well enough.

When you woke up the following morning after Jay met Leah you barely wanted to get out of bed. It was only a matter of time before news spread of him being back. No one gossiped more than first responders. Avoiding Hailey when you were pregnant had been a feat in itself. You worked the truck for the first few months up until you got hurt and Kelly threatened to take away your position on squad completely if you didn’t move to light duty.  The times intelligence and fifty one ended up on the same calls Stella and Sylvie were amazing in running interference. You told them it was just because she was a reminder of Jay you didn’t want to face, you prayed they never figured it out.

You laid there for the longest until her little cries filled the air. “I’m coming babygirl” you called out and tossed your blanket off. She could give a damn less about any drama. All she knew was she needed her mommy to get her a bottle and a dry diaper to get her ready for the day.

You parked your truck behind Stella’s jeep and took a deep breath. You could do this. You could face this. This place was yours. The people inside were your family. They always had your back. Kelly and Stella fought for you. Matt and Sylvie comforted you. Violet crawled in the bed and supported you while you gave birth. They would never turn their back on you.

You grabbed everything you needed and opened your door, the cool air brushing across your face made you breathe a little easier. 

______________________

The moment you stepped into the bays Sylvie, Stella and Violet came running at you. “Did you hear?” Stella asked and you shook your head, eyes wide “I don’t think so?” “Jay’s back. Matt saw him with Will this morning” Sylvie told you and your stomach hit your feet, fuck that was fast.

You prayed to anyone and everything listening that your face didn’t come anywhere in the vicinity of betraying your thoughts. You shrugged “Not like he could call me. I changed my number after the issues” your story had been that Leah was the result of a one night stand that the guy was just a bad decision all around. You’d told everyone you’d gone out a few nights after Jay left, which just so happened to have been Mouse’s birthday so your story was believable that you were depressed enough to end up drunk in some random guy's bed. 

You’d had to fake a few harassing phone calls and texts but it protected Jay’s name by selling your story and kept a confrontation with Hailey from happening. 

Stella laughed “He’s gonna be surprised when he does see you. Baby and all” you cut your eyes at her “My baby is the least of his concern. If he’s back now, shouldn't he be worried about a job and his ex wife?”   all three of them started laughing at that and your shoulders loosened a bit. Ok, that’s good. They were laughing which meant they believed your bullshit, right?

Matt walked up “Ladies, shouldn’t you four be getting to work” you shot him a grin “Captain I’m on Squad three” Kelly whistled from where he was sitting in his recliner “Get to work Wildflower” and you rolled your eyes playfully “Fine Sev” and he grinned. See, this was why you loved this bunch.

Violet hooked her arm through yours as the two of you headed inside so you could shove your bag into your locker. “So, how was your two days off?” you shrugged “I cleaned, slept and washed laundry” and nodded “Productive”  you laughed “Not that glamorous of a life there Vi. Single mama and all. Why do you think I always make sure you keep up with your birth control?”

She grinned “And I adore you for it”, the two of you walked through the common area and Sam turned from where he was pouring coffee “Ladies, you two want a cup?” “Yes please” you told him and he nodded “Coming right up” 

Jay was trying to listen to his new boss. He would be working in private security. They worked in tandem with CPD but it was a lot lower risk and a lot more money. He would no longer be bringing danger home with him. When he first signed on for the job it was simply because he was just tired of everything he’d dealt with during his time in intelligence, now? Now all he could think about was a tiny pink bundle that fit so well in his hands and looked so much like you but had his hue of eyes.

“Halstead, you good?” he nodded “Yes sir. Little bit of jet lag” he replied and Stevenson nodded “Understandable. You won’t really be doing much today, just going over our systems mainly. They’re not that much different than you’re used to but just familiarize yourself with them you know?” He nodded “Yes sir” “Good, come with me” he stood to follow the other man through the building. “So Jay, tell me a little more about yourself. Got any family? Kids?”

Jay’s first thought was to gush about Leah. He’d just met her but god she was perfect. He wanted to talk about her but he had promised. “Um, no not yet” he felt his stomach knot with the lie. Fuck, he didn’t like feeling like he was denying her. He would simply because you asked. “Um I got divorced before I deployed so not really any time for anything else” he added and Stevenson laughed “I get that man. Well with this job it’s not easy but it’s definitely not as much bullshit as you had to eat working intelligence”

“Good, I couldn't handle any more of that” he replied with a short laugh. 

You’d worked two wrecks and a water rescue. At least the day had seen fit to not give you much time to sit and think. You finally had a moment to catch your breath so you flopped down in one of the many chairs that were around the table in the bay. Food was being cooked and your stomach was growling but you needed some fresh air. You hadn’t felt truly alone before this moment. No one knew what you were going through and you were honestly terrified.You didn’t know what to do, how to deal with this. 

You pulled out your phone and stared at the photo of Leah that was your wallpaper. “Babygirl I’ll protect you if it’s the last thing I do” “Everything ok?” you snatched your head around to see Stella and Sylvie standing at the end of the table “How long have you two been standing there?” 

Stella nodded towards your phone “Long enough to hear you promise to protect Leah if it’s the last thing you do” you nodded “Just thinking” they exchanged a look “Did something happen?” Sylive asked and you shook your head, slipping your phone into your pocket “No, is food ready?” they nodded so you stood “Let’s go eat then. I’m hungry”

___________________

Can I see her tonight? You stared at the text from Jay for far too long before finally sending back Not tonight, ok? You knew you told him that he could see her but he’d just met her last night. You didn’t to do an every day thing.

Ok. Let me know when was his response. You took a deep breath and slipped your phone into your pocket. You could do this, you’d survived this far. You would continue to survive.

“Hey baby” you spoke lightly as Leah cooed, grabbing your fingers. Jay wanted to come see her. You’d kept him away for the last two weeks since he’d been home, using your work as an excuse. “I want him to be able to see you, I wouldn’t want to keep you from him but I also don’t want to hurt him either” you whispered, letting her play with your fingers.

You told him to go out with Will and Kevin tonight. He needed to see his brother, his friends. He texted you daily to check on her, you. You hadn’t told him you’d been at Mouse’s grave when he called you earlier. Hell you needed someone to talk to. You’d sat under the tree his parents had bought the plot next to, holding Leah while she napped. He loved Hailey enough to marry her, he had a chance to get her back now. He had a new job, a new start. He could have a new life without all the old issues. You were an old issue. You brought memories of the past, memories of pain and so much baggage.

You just wished he would have forgotten about you all together. That would’ve made things so much easier for everyone. If he would’ve forgotten about you, he never would’ve come to your place and never would’ve found out about her. 

She cooed louder and you laughed “Ok ok. I’ll get us both so food ma’am. You don’t have to get all fussy Butt” and scooped her up. You stared down at her for a moment, her seafoam eyes squinting. Why did she have to have those eyes?

Jay stood next to Will, sipping his beer as Kevin racked the pool balls. He was adjusting to his new job. It was a walk in the park compared to intelligence, he was getting paid pretty well and he wasn’t getting shot at every day. “How’s Wildflower? I ain’t seen her around in a minute man” Kevin asked, cutting his eyes up at Jay. Jay shrugged “I’ve only talked to her a couple times since I got back. She seems ok. That baby of hers is adorable” Kevin grinned “Little Leah? Oh that angel is!”

Jay took a long swig of his beer to hide his proud grin. He knew she was adorable. Will nodded “Those two are both strong as hell. I thought I nearly lost Wildflower and Leah that time she got hurt” Jay couldn’t stop his head from how fast it whipped around towards Will “What?” 

Will raised an eyebrow “She didn’t tell you?” Jay shook his head “No” Kevin grimaced “She worked pretty solid the first few months till she had a close call. Nearly died and lost little Leah. It was bad but she healed up pretty good” Jay nodded slowly “Good that she didn’t die or lose her baby” he was hoping he didn’t look as damn stricken as he felt. You’d nearly died, both of you. He felt sick, honestly.

The idea of you being dead and him having no idea? It ripped his fucking heart out and stomped on it. Would he have ever known? Would he have just come home looking for you and someone else be in your apartment? Would Will have had to take him to your grave? Then christ if he would’ve found out you were pregnant when you died on top of it? If he had lost his best friend, the woman he…well you and his baby? Without ever even knowing? He couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around it.

“Ok, that’s enough talking about Wildflower. You two know she hates being the topic of conversation” he grabbed a pool cue and went to line up a shot when he heard Tyler Greene, some beat cop that Kevin had spoken to that was sitting at the bar scoff.

You cut his eyes up “What’s your issue Greene?” he asked and Greene shrugged “Isn’t Wildflower that firefighter chick that don’t even know who the hell the father of her baby is? Doesn’t seem like she had any standards to me” Jay moved without a second thought, he was across the bar with one of Greene’s arms twisted behind his back and his face shoved into the bar “Say it again asshole, I fucking dare you”

“Jay back off man!” Kevin urged, grabbing his arm. “Naw, Tyler here has something to say. Let him” Kevin shook his head “He’s sorry man..aren’t ya Greene?” Greene nodded “S-Sorry”

Jay snatched the man up and spun him around to have him by the collar “Watch your mouth when you’re talking about people because you don’t know who the hell is listening”  then shoved him “Get the hell out of here” 

Kevin and Will both were staring at him afterwards and he shrugged “What?” Kevin shook his head “I was about to hit him so you just saved my hand” he nodded “Ok then let’s finish the damn game”

_______________________

Jay was walking out of the bar to his truck when Will called his name so he stopped to look back at his brother. “Yeah man, what’s up?” Will walked closer to him and stared him in the eyes until it was uncomfortable “What are you doing?” he asked with a nervous laugh and Jay shook his head “Realizing how fucking stupid I am”

“Wow, ok? Can I go?” Jay asked and Will shook his head “No, we need to talk” “About?” Jay asked so Will took a step closer, lowering his voice to no one passing by would hear him say “My niece”  Jay felt his hands go cold. He hadn’t meant for Will to find out, you asked him for no one to know.

“Will, don’t” he pleaded and Will’s eyebrows scrunched together “Why?” “She begged me not to tell anyone” Will shook his head “I don’t understand. Why not tell me?”

Jay shook his head “I don’t know. Protecting me in the way she seen fit? Man please just keep your mouth shut” Will sighed “Fine but she’s my niece, I almost lost her, I care about Wildflower too. Even if she thought you weren’t coming back. That hurts that she didn’t trust me”

Jay found himself getting defensive with his own brother too, “Hey, back off her. She went through a lot too. She found out her best friend got her pregnant then left and chose to do it solo. Please don’t put this on her right now” Will nodded “I’d never stress her out but when she’s ready, I’d really like to see my niece and her to know that I’m her uncle”

“I’ll tell her, the ball is firming in her court though. I’m not giving her an excuse to push me away” Jay told him with a small smile.  Will nodded slowly then a grin slipped onto his face “You have a kid” Jay nodded, a mirror grin on his own face “I do and she’s perfect” Will pulled him into a hug “My little brother is a father!”

You had just got out of the shower when your phone started ringing. You glanced to see Jay’s name. You clicked it and heard him answer “Can I please come see you two?”

You closed your eyes and swallowed hard “Ok” “Ok?” he echoed and you shook your head “Just come over Halstead”

______________________

You opened the door and stepped back to let Jay walk into your apartment next to you.  “What’s the deal with Tyler Greene?” he asked and you raised an eyebrow “Hey Jay, how are you? How’s the job going?”

He turned to face you with a smile “I’m sorry flower. Last night. Me, Kev and Will were talking about you. Nothing bad or revealing. That asshole started saying shit like you didn’t have standards because you didn’t know who the father of your child was?”

You shrugged “It happens. Should’ve seen the look on the guy’s face that Boden had everyone fighting over who got to throw him out of fifty one when I was pregnant” his face fell “How much did you deal with that?” you shook your head “Doesn’t matter. It’s just I had to have a believable story. That meant swallowing a lot of shit Jay. I’m a big girl. I can handle myself and what I can't, I can deal with”

“You don’t have to deal with anything. I’m here. Let me carry some of it” he offered and you shook your head “We’ve gone over this Jay. I’m not ruining your life”

“Our daughter could never ruin my life” he whispered and you smiled slightly “Hailey is single. You loved her enough to marry her. You could have another chance. You could find someone else. Hell you may end up leaving Chicago. Don’t allow us to stand in the way of that. I didn't keep her for a bargaining chip,I kept  her because I wanted to”

He shook his head “I’ll make a deal with you” you crossed your arms “You’re in no position to bargain with me but I have to admit I am intrigued” he grinned “Go out with me as friends! Bring her. Spend time with me like we used to. You’re still my best friend” you sighed “Jay I don’t want people to talk” he shrugged “Sweetheart I don’t care”

“I guess something like lunch or if I run into you at the market and we walk around together doesn’t hurt” you offered and he grinned “Thank you” then his grin fell “There is one thing you need to know but I didn’t tell him. He figured it out the other night from a mixture of how I reacted at finding out that you almost died along with Leah” he trailed off and stared at you for a moment.

You shrugged “I’ll tell you more about that after you finish what you’re saying” he nodded “Will knows” you scrubbed a hand down your face and walked over to the couch, flopping down on it “Jay!” 

“Flower, baby I didn’t tell him” he promised and you cut your eyes up “Don’t call me baby when you don't mean it and don’t act like this isn’t a big deal Jay. I’ve held this secret close at hand for well over a year. I have made myself look horrible to keep your name out of the mud. I have had Kelly and Stella fight for me, Matt and Sylvie comfort me and the day I gave birth? Violet climbed in the bed to support me. I care about you so much Jay and she is your daughter and I wouldn’t try to take her but don’t act like you know better than me. I won’t have it getting out she’s yours. That’s why I gave her my last name, why I put no one on the birth certificate. You’re free and clear Jay”

He sat down next to you “I don’t want to be free and clear. Flower, I’d be here even if you didn’t have babygirl. You’re my best friend. You know me better than anyone, always have. He doesn’t want to start any trouble. He just wants to know his niece” 

You took a deep breath and nodded slowly “I’ll think about it Jay but this? All of it? I never thought you were coming home” he bumped your knee with his “Told ya I’d find my way back to you” you shook your head with a small smile “I’m so happy you’re home. I don’t know if I said that but I am. That feeling of you being outside the door? Whole and alive? Second only to her being healthy”

He grinned “I missed you every damn I was gone. I thought about you, worried about you, hoped you were ok. I thought after what happened you hated me..” he trailed off and you laughed “Why would I hate you for good sex? He barked out a laugh and you shook your head but grinned proudly “On a serious note, I will think about it and if he can keep a secret, just for now I’ll tell Will the truth”

“And I’m taking you and Leah to breakfast tomorrow?” he asked so you grinned “You’re a pain in my ass, I forgot how much so” he shook his head “Naw, I’m a delight” Leah started making noises so you hit his leg “Come on delightful. Our little monster is up and in need a bottle and dry diaper before you can hold her”

”Lead the way” he replied, letting you pull him to his feet. 

@desimarie12

@allisonargent144

@nevaehstreater18

[rmview]

So cover me nowwwwowwwwwww!

With seungmin maybe? Man I love that song 😭😫🎢

Ps: I've been doing ok. The exams kicked my ass.but now I'm all good lol

#kim seungmin #comfort, fluff #milestone game

the rain poured in heavy sheets, drowning out the distant hum of the city. you pulled your coat tighter around yourself, shivering as the wind cut through your soaked clothes. the storm had come out of nowhere, the sky splitting open just as you stepped off the last bus stop before home.

you were debating whether to make a run for it when you felt someone tug at your wrist.

“are you an idiot?” seungmin’s voice was sharp, but there was an undertone of concern beneath it. he held out his umbrella, covering you both as he pulled you closer to his side.

you blinked up at him, startled. “what are you doing here?”

“walking home. what does it look like?” he sighed, shaking his head. “why didn’t you check the weather?”

you huffed, pushing wet hair out of your face. “i didn’t expect a typhoon.”

“clearly.” his lips quirked in amusement before he sighed. “come on. my place is closer.”

you hesitated for a moment, but the cold seeping into your bones made the decision for you. he didn’t wait for an answer, simply adjusting the umbrella so more of it covered you before starting down the street.

the walk was quiet, the sound of raindrops hitting the fabric above you filling the silence. seungmin didn’t speak, but he was close enough that you could feel the warmth of him radiating through his sweater. it was grounding, comforting in a way you didn’t want to acknowledge.

by the time you reached his apartment, your teeth were chattering. seungmin unlocked the door with one hand, guiding you inside with the other. “go dry off,” he said, already heading to his room.

you stood awkwardly in his entryway, watching as he rummaged through his closet before tossing a sweatshirt in your direction.

“wear that,” he said simply, disappearing into the kitchen.

you changed quickly, the oversized fabric swallowing you whole. it smelled like him—clean laundry, a hint of something warm and familiar.

seungmin returned with two mugs of tea, setting one in front of you before flopping onto the couch beside you. “better?”

you nodded, wrapping your hands around the warm ceramic. “yeah. thanks.”

he didn’t respond immediately, just sipped his tea before glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “you should be more careful.”

you rolled your eyes. “i’ll check the forecast next time.”

“good.” he let out a small breath, barely audible. “i don’t like seeing you like that.”

something about the way he said it made your chest tighten. you turned to him, your voice softer. “seungmin…”

he met your gaze, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. and then, almost too quietly, he murmured, “so just… cover me next time, too, okay?”

the words lingered between you, unspoken meanings heavy in the air. the storm raged on outside, but in that moment, sitting beside him, you had never felt safer.

authors note: thank you for requesting sweetie! so glad life’s been going good for you xp exams kicked my ass too but yay for us getting through it! it’s still taking a while for my inspiration to come back, but i’m slowly getting into the writing flow again (i get burnt out too easily :')) hope you enjoyed this!