#and the more light hearted stuff like this

[heartyluv]

Note: THEY’RE BACK!!! LOLLL I LUV THEM!! I desperately need to start doing some asks omg… Again, I’m doing them like this since it’s not glitchy when I save it and stuff, but if you’d like to go see the original or whateves, —click here— to check it out! Anywho, is it just me or has these two become comfort characters…? Like we already love Caleb but Camboy!Caleb and his wife…MY BAES!! I even feel like pink is their color. They exist somewhere out in the world, I’m sure 😏. Thank you for the request, luvly. I hope you enjoy!

Remember, HIS WIFE IS CHUBBY!!! LUV HER DOWNNN!!!

Creds to @/strangergraphics for the dividers!

Warning: Smut, sex is being recorded to publish online

Word Count: 2.5K

Camboy!Caleb/Reader - First Time

You were sitting on top of your husband, his hands hungrily gliding up and down your back as your tongues worked to taste each other. It was easy for him to get you like this—naked, in bed, and aching for his cock. But what brought you here this time?

The memories that surrounded your mind when you thought about the way he loved on you.

Only a few moments ago, you and him were relaxing and watching a movie together in the living room. Like usual, his head was on your lap as your fingers played in his hair the way he likes, and it was when you saw the diamonds of your wedding ring catch in the light of the media playing on the TV, that this surge of love sparked inside of you.

You began to think of all the moments you had with him. Like when he drove all the way to see you in person for the first time, when he called you every single day until you moved in together for him to somehow make it an occurrence that happens twice, and when he looked at you with such love and asked you to marry him.

He has single handedly changed your life for the better and you were so in love with him that it made your eyes water no matter when you thought about it. This man is the reason you see your body in a way you never did, why you now had a confidence that nobody could shake—why you were more than glad to have paid $30 for his monthly subscription, because it has turned into a lifetime of happiness.

After you leaned down and kissed the side of his neck, he turned to look at you with a smile. Once you whispered the words, “Can we…head to bed?” he already knew what you wanted and he was more than ready to give it to you.

So he took you where you wanted to go, stripped the both of you of your clothes and you climbed on top of him. The sounds of your sloppy kisses only made your pussy wetter the more desperate it became. Each time cock brushed against your stomach, your insides tingled with the need to have him inside of you. But you cherished the moments like this where despite how needy you or him could be, you didn’t rush. Savoring it was always important.

Your heart was pumping in your chest like his name was carved into it when you told him breathlessly in between kisses, “I wanna record it.”

Your husband pulled back, his face flushed and his soft hair messy from the way your hands found purchase within the strands. He licked his lips before answering you.

“Okay,” he grinned. “We can save it to look at it later like the other ones.”

You’ve filmed yourselves fucking before. That’s why he’s not thrown off by your request. But with those videos, they were private because you were in them. Caleb would never post them without your permission and he was 100% okay if you never wanted that. He kind of preferred it that way when it came to those. They were sacred to him.

With Caleb being a camboy, he is very comfortable with anything related to sex and his body. For a man like him, you’re far from surprised. But he made it very clear that there was never any pressure or expectations for you to film yourself with him just because you’re his wife. No matter how many comments begged for something with you two, if it wasn’t what you wanted, it wouldn’t happen.

You shake your head, giggling when he kisses your jaw. “I want to post it to your page.”

Caleb turned into a deer in headlights. Part of you freaked out about it, too. “W-we don’t have to. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, baby,” he soothes the worries he evidently sees swirling in your eyes. “Forgive me. I just…was shocked. I didn’t expect you to say that. But I’m definitely not opposed to it.”

“I think I’m ready. Obviously I trust you, and your fans seem really nice. And I think it’s hot.”

“Yeah?” he smirks, his hands grabbing your ass. “I think so, too. But I want you to make sure you’re absolutely certain. Your safety and peace of mind means everything to me. Once you’re up there, you’re there, pretty. Nothing to be ashamed of, just something to be positive about.”

It’s like there’s an angel sitting on your shoulder, staring at him with you like he’s the dreamiest man to ever grace the planet. And he is.

“I’m sure,” you nod after letting his words marinate. “You already take care of me. Should I not want to do it anymore or something, I know you’ve got me.”

“Of course I do.” His chest fuels with pride at how well he’s made you understand that he will always have your back—that he’ll always make sure you’re good.

“Let me get my phone.”

You climb off of him, watching how he leaves to grab his phone that he left in the living room. You’re happy to not feel any hesitation or relentless second-guessing in your mind when Caleb comes back, his still hard cock making you blush even if you’ve seen and had it in you too many times to count.

“Remember our safe word?” he gestures for you to stand and come to him.

“Apple,” you confirm, nuzzling your cheek in his hands when he holds your face.

“Good girl. At any point you want me to stop recording or you want to back out for any reason, you say that word and everything stops. Now, how do you want me?”

You press your lips together as you hum in thought, not even noticing how Caleb just stares. He’s so in love with you.

“Doggy? It’ll make a good angle and all that.”

“Then that’s what it’ll be.”

He opens the app he posts his content to so that he can make a quick announcement, showing it to you before he releases it.

Surprise video tonight. It’s a special one. Stay tuned.

“Gets them going,” he chuckles before tossing the phone on the bed. “Let me get you to myself a little bit.”

He leans down to kiss you delicately, your nipples tightening and your pussy desperate for him all over again. Even his cock never went soft.

You whimper against his lips, alternating between the bottom and the top. He lifts your leg to hook onto his hip and presses into you so hard that you’re certain he could slip inside of you with no hands in this moment if he wanted to.

“You still wet for me?”

“Mhm,” you mumble. His hands dig into your plush flesh like he’s addicted to the way that you feel in them.

“Get where I need you, baby.”

You can’t help but to sloppily peck his lips a few more times before you make your way to the bed and bend over it.

“You don’t have to do anything different, okay? Talk how we usually do, feel me how you usually do. This is still us.”

“Yeah…okay.” With that reassurance, you arch your back at the edge of the soft mattress, feeling how your pussy opens up for him like it obeys his presence alone. From where he stands, he reaches over from behind you to grab the phone and tells you he’s about to start before he presses the red button to begin.

It’s dim in the room besides the small lamp you have on, until the flash from the phone and the sound effect of a video in progress shifts the atmosphere.

He holds the phone in one hand and his cock with the other, inching closer to your waiting cunt. Caleb was already hard when he was prepared to fuck you nice and slow with you on top of him, but all the blood rushed to his dick when you told him you wanted to record and post it. He didn’t want to overwhelm you with his excitement, so he kept it casual and made sure you felt safe before anything. On the inside? He was elated.

“You really are soaked,” he says teasingly. Your body shivers when he takes his tip, rubbing up and down the slit of your puffy lips.

“C-Caleb…Fuck…” you shakily breathe out. You feel so much more sensitive for some reason—but you love it.

“Feels good?” He pushes forward so he nudges your clit to make you jolt. He can see the goosebumps pepper down your back and it makes him feel honored to bring your beautiful body such pleasure.

“So good…”

He tries to make sure the camera can see and hear how your slick clings to his cock like you do each other. Starting with your hole, he collects your juices and gingerly smears it up and down slowly. Sometimes he’ll make you think he’s about to slide inside so your cunt will clench in preparation to suck him in. He can never explain why he likes seeing you try.

“Look how badly she wants me,” he coos. “You want me too, baby? You want your husband?”

“I want my husband so bad,” you whine, pushing your ass back to make him give you want you want. “Please give me your cock, baby. I can’t…Please…”

“Push back for me a little more.”

Desperately, you follow directions. Then when you feel his cock right where you’re ready to beg him to be, you move your hips back at the same time he surges his forward. The sheets in your hands are balled up when he bottoms out.

“Yes…yes…” you cry and make your back bend more to take him deeper.

“We feel so good together, pretty.” Caleb won’t tell you how he nearly dropped his phone when your warmth covered him, but he’s sure the slight shakiness in the video will reveal that. When he moves back a little bit to see how your slick coats his length, the flashlight makes the beautiful sight glisten.

He can’t wait any longer than you can as he begins to fuck into you slowly to appease your aching pussy before his left hand grips your waist the harder he begins to pummel your heat. Your ass ripples off his pelvis with every purposeful thrust, making him slap it to watch his own personal tidal wave grow.

Your moans are far from exaggerated when his cock slides smoothly in and out of you. Caleb then takes his hand, sliding it up from your hip to move up and down your back. The simple band of his silver wedding ring with your initials engraved in the side with your arms splayed above your head and your giant diamond on your finger, is the perfect image of how much you own each other. Of how untied you are in your love.

The gentle sting of him rutting into you has you drooling unapologetically. The way he grunts and tells you how pretty you look, hardwires your brain to understand that you will always belong to him. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“My pussy is so good to me,” he grinds into you, his voice ragged from the bliss taking over his body. “She’s about to come. I feel it.”

The mix of his precum and your wetness makes a mess between your legs the closer you get. Knowing that this something hundreds—maybe thousands— will be seeing, makes you feel unstoppable. And it’s all because of your man.

“Caleb…I’m gonna come, don’t stop…” Your forehead presses into the sheets that smell like you and him. “Right there…i’m gonna—” His cock curves up when he shifts his hips to hit that spot that has you feeling like he took the stars and moon from the skies to make it yours everytime he causes you to feel this good.

“Let them see, baby. Give me what I like.”

All anyone watching the video will hear—besides the praising and the exchange of love—is the continuously slapping of skin and the way your weeping cunt tells everyone what he does to you.

His breath grows heavier the closer his orgasm gets when you keep squeezing him after drenching his length. Once his hips start to stutter, despite your sensitivity, you force yours back to help push his cum out.

“Oh, fffuck…” he bites his lip at your actions, his breath hitching when his load abruptly shoots out to make itself at home inside your walls and womb. You squeeze every drop out of his thick cock, feeling the spurts pump into your used and pleased body.

Gently he pulls out after he lets himself catch his breath as you shudder beneath him. You feel his warm cum leak out of your hole when he’s separated from you, falling forward and down your lips before slowly dripping onto the floor from the angle you’re in. Caleb lowers the phone so everyone will be able to see something so fucking beautiful. He knows you’re tired, but he feels like he’s already getting hard again just looking at the way your pussy quivers.

He immediately ends the nearly seven minute video, trying to ignore the aching pulse in his cock again at how you sway your hips.

“We’ll watch it together and you tell me if you still want to post it, alright?” he comforts you, helping you stand and kissing your neck.

You nod. “Did I do good?”

“Baby,” he caresses your sides. “You were fucking perfect. The camera was made for you.”

You sleepily—on shaky legs—turn around to wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his sweetly. “I feel so safe with you. Thank you for giving me that.”

You can’t explain why you’re so sappy right now, but Caleb loves and appreciates it. “Thank you for letting me be the one to do it.” He kisses your nose. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

“Please.”

Two weeks later, the video amassed over 700K views—so far. It’s more than anything Caleb has ever gotten on a singular piece of content he’s posted on his own. Here are some of the comments:

chubbyluvr:HE’S MARRIED?!?

iluv2cum:this is the hottest video on the internet..

itsjust4fun:did you hear how he talked to her……

cumminwithnoregrets: i knew he talked you through it but holy shit…

im0pen4business: the way she cries for him…they’re so hot

imn0rmal1sw3ar: THE RINGS…THEIR RINGS…

acidicluva: i need a part two. and three. with me in between.

pu$$yfairy: and if i said i need that?

luckycUm: i don’t know who to be jealous of

c0ckadmirer: he’s so sweet with her…i’m gonna be sick

calebst0pspenda: if he’s this filthy when he’s being sweet, imagine when he’s rough

iluv2cum: @calebst0pspenda spectacular, i need this in 4K

sleepygurlll: THE CUM ROLLING DOWN. WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THIS.

iluvlove: chat, how do we gate keep them?

lifeis2$hort: please tell me she’ll be in more videos omg

imjustchillin: yall better speak right about his wife. we all know caleb is crazy

sunshinutterfly: this is my third time this week coming back to this video and i am not ashamed.

A/N: It’s always so fun writing for them, but this one kinda hit different. I LUV YOU GUYS!! BYE!

P.S. This song is SO them.

Tags 🏷️: @innergardentoadpony @teacupwaifu @mcdepressed290 @calebapplepie @xcelfer @honeymoonfleur @obeythebutler @ajyoursgirl @notsurewhattocallthisblog8888 @honeycrispangels @dummiebunny @sucre-princesse @brailsthesmolgurl @klossnite @grlyeetswrld @beesin03 @dramaticalsachan @moonchildjae00 @asiatic-apple @callads7 @caien @stargirlygirl @multisstuff @littledarlingsthings @purpleamethyst25 @lazygelpen @floatinginaer @meadowinthesky @floatinginaer @grackerzzz @nod4mnm3rcyy @loveinorion @ur-l0cal-crypt1d @inutrasha94 @cowaungabungabby @gravity-pilot @nyanahogini @rosiesluv @goochfiddler99 @torturedbabyapple @kiyadeleine @carcelswaifu @blushofeve @whattnanii @asiaticapple @ashirelle

[twilightofthesandwiches]

Okay, so one thought I had rattling in my head for a bit now is that the Dark Sanctuary of Deltarune Chapter 4 really reminds me of Undertale’s Waterfall.

I mean, the Dark Sanctuary doesn’t really have the water theming but… they are both the darkest parts of the game, both in a literal visual sense. With a mostly darker color-scheme and puzzles themed around darkness

and also in the narrative sense, being the most serious, solemn and grim part of the game. While Waterfall has its moments of levity and, y’know, Temmie Village, there’s a lot more focus of scenes of melancholy or fear compared to other parts of the game. While Undyne can be a very silly character, she only shows that side of herself to the Human during her Boss Fight right at the end and she’s otherwise a quiet and no-nonsense antagonist.

Deltarune Chapter 4 is the darkest chapter of Deltarune so far. It also has it's funnier moments but… The Church Dark World concept leads itself to much more serious theming and designs for the backgrounds and the enemies, it has some of the most serious exploration of our main characters' personalities and arcs, and has a lot of emphasize on the fact the stakes have been raised and Shit Just Got Real.

Plus, both Chapters deal heavily in the lore written on the walls of that area

Including a Prophecy

(well, in Deltarune it's exclusively a Prophecy, in Undertale it focuses on History and also includes a Prophecy)

And on a larger scale, both of these writings introduce the idea that the information we/the characters had before on the Lore is not the full picture.

And y'know, Gerson, who is present in both areas but also…

As the Hammer of Justice he also serves as a very heavy parallel to the Boss Fight(s) against Undyne in Undertale, both in visual design and gameplay (the Green Soul Mode).

Also, y'know, Piano Puzzles...

The thing is just… I didn't quite know what to do with this comparison. I mean, speculating on the idea the next Chapter would somehow be a Hotland Counterpart feels incredibly silly considering we already had two Dark Worlds that are very Hotland-like…

Which is when I realized, what if Deltarune Chapters correspond to Undertale areas but in reverse?

The Dark Sanctuary is like Waterfall and before it, TV World is a lot like Hotland, focused on TV-themed minigames controlled by an attention-hungry rectangular Game Show Host.

Cyber World would be the CORE, as the most high-tech themed areas in their respective games

And Queen and Spamton both including elements of Mettaton EX/NEO

Including Spamton NEO having the Yellow Soul Mode.

And Card Castle is the counterpart to New Home. Since these areas are both meant to be, well, a castle and it's surrounding area.

And King obviously being kind of a dark thematic reflection of Asgore.

…That would make Chapter 5 a Snowdin parallel to some degree, then Chapter 6 as a Ruins parallel, leaving Chapter 7 to do something totally off-the-rails and unique and unpredictable… Question is just what would that mean for Chapter 5 to be a "Snowdin Parallel"?

Since the Dark Sanctuary didn't really have water and TV World didn't really have magma-stuff, I don't think that would mean Chapter 5 would necessarily be an ice world, and indeed the only real hint we have to Chapter 5 right now is about a garden.

… It could be a somewhat more light-hearted Chapter after the huge drama-bombs we just had, since Snowdin is probably the most light-hearted and friendly part of Undertale… but there's also plenty of ways for it to be just as lore-heavy and serious and filled with revelations. Since the two things Snowdin was known for is the introduction of the Skeleton Brothers and it's Holiday Theming.

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 21

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content (smut), cheating Wordcount: 6.9K A/C: happy paige hoops day :) happy dallas assketball day... :( anyway enjoy this and please send me reactions again!! they are VERY welcome (btw i will not be working on the next chapter until late next week because i’ll be busy with birthday stuff so don’t ask pls) (DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT CLAIMING IN THIS CHAPTER THAT AMERICA DOESN’T HAVE SQUIRRELS 😭 PLS BE FR the reason paige is like wtf is because the squirrels in hyde park are crazy ok bye)

-

London

My lips still taste like strawberries when my tongue darts out to wet them, nuzzling my nose into the soft cotton of the pale blue pillow underneath my head. Flashes of last night, tongues clashing, starving whimpers and desperate hands spin in my mind - and I can’t help the smile that forms in response. God must be on my side, in fact I know he is. Because last night I got to kiss the lips of the woman I had spent the last nine months hopelessly in love with.

“Mhm, morning beautiful,” I mumble, voice still gravelly with sleep. But there’s no response. Opening my eyes, I find I’m still in Izara’s bed. Good, it wasn’t a dream. The girl, however, is nowhere to be seen.

A panic sets in. A fear. I scared her away. It was too much. I misread the signs.

I stand up faster than my mind can follow when I see it. A note placed on the vanity, with handwriting that curls and loops the way Izara’s does. Pushing my glasses onto my face, I grab it.

Paige,

I didn’t dare to wake you, you looked so beautiful. I’m sure you’re exhausted and I want you to get some more rest. I left you a towel in the bathroom if you want to shower. I’ll be downstairs when you get up x

Izzie

The panic washes away as soon as it arrived, my fingers tracing the cursive letters. I looked beautiful? She seemed to think so. Fuck. I bite my lower lip to kill the grin on my face, sliding the note into my pocket. Checking the time I realise it is indeed almost midday, but I appreciate her concern. I did feel a lot less jetlagged than yesterday.

After a quick shower I get dressed into a matching light lavender Nike set of sweats and sweater - the only clothes I had the sense to pack to bring over. I glance at my reflection, the Tommy Hilfiger boxers peeking out of the sweatpants. I better pull these up, now is not the time to sag.

Finally, with wet hair and glasses, I make my way down the carpeted steps almost giddy to see her again. 

Izara’s laughter echoes all the way to the bottom of the stairs, and my heart nearly bursts. I stop by the last step, holding onto the railing covered with a garland. The corners of my mouth lift at the sound of her giggles. 

“Good morning,” Rohan’s deep voice surprises me, snapping me out of my Izara-induced trance. I don’t know how long he’s been standing there, stirring what I assumed was tea.

“Good morning sir,” I answer. The man smiles, lifting his steaming cup. 

“Tea?” He asks,

“Oh, Ion drink tea really,” I admit, itching the back of my neck. He chuckles, nodding more to himself.

“I figured. I had a friend in my university days from America. Would drink a can of Coke instead every morning.”

I chuckle, following him into the living room, Izzie’s voice growing closer and closer. 

“Well, Ion do that either,” I joke. 

We reach the archway to find Kiran and Izara sitting on the floor surrounded by wrapping paper, the pile beside the girl neatly folded. Her green eyes twinkle as her manicured hands feel up the striped cashmere sweater on her lap. She’s still in her pajamas - a rare sight in the early afternoon.

“Ah, good morning Paige,” Mrs. Chopra who’s sitting on the couch already fully ready for the day in a knitted dress smiles politely. “I trust you slept well?”

That second, Izzie’s green eyes flicker up to me and a smile grows on her face.

“Hey,” she hums, biting down on her lower lip. Her voice is soft and smooth, laced with the secret of last night.

“Good morning,” I answer, breaking eye contact to look at Mrs. Chopra instead. “For sure, thanks for lettin’ me sleep.”

“Paige look!” Kiran says, waving a Timberwolves jersey around. I snatch it from his hands.

“You a fan of Ant? I ask, handing it back. He nods. “Let’s go to a game next time you come over.”

“Forreal?” Kiran asks, eyes sparkling with excitement. 

“Yeah, for sure,” I chuckle, glancing at the presents piled next to Izzie. Espresso machine, a black leather wallet, a silver Cartier necklace.

“Woah,” I say surprised, grabbing the jewelry box. I had never seen Izzie wear anything but gold. “Someone dropped some serious cash on this.”

“Jasper always wants to spoil her,” Mrs. Chopra gushes, standing up from her seat. Just hearing his name angered me - until I remembered I made out with his girlfriend last night and suddenly I felt better.

“What a gentleman.”

Rohan inches closer to me, covering his mouth with his hand. “He’s a pompous twat if you ask me,” he murmurs almost silently, loud enough just for me to hear. I try not to laugh, handing the box back.

“It’s pretty,” I smile. Izzie smiles back, but her eyes remain distant and distracted.

“Let me make you some breakfast Paige,” Mrs. Chopra says.

“Oh, that’s fine, I can just grab something myself,” I quickly say. The woman had been working tirelessly since yesterday to cater to everyone’s needs. It wasn’t hard to guess where Izzie got this quality from.

“Nonsense,” she waves me off, already headed to the kitchen. I almost go after her, but Izzie grabs my wrist, pulling me down to sit beside her.

“Just give up, there’s no use in arguing. Trust me,” she chuckles, her touch lingering against my skin. On top of the cashmere sweater, there’s a blue Tiffany box with a silver baby rattle inside.

“What’s this?” I whisper, fingers lifting it. The toy makes a soft clinking noise, singing with a delicate chime like rain tapping against a window.

Izara rolls her eyes and grabs it from me, hiding it underneath every other present. “Don’t ask,” she huffs, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“I won’t ask if you tell me,” I answer, confused.

Her green eyes meet mine as she lets out a frustrated sigh. “My mum,” she starts. “She got it for me. She said it would give me some ‘motivation’.”

I furrow my brows, letting out a chuckle when I realise what she means. “Motivation to get knocked up?”

“I suppose so,” she shakes her head, laughing too. But I can tell it bothers her. And I’m not sure if it’s because she’s reminded of Jasper and what she’ll have to do. Does she even want to do it still? I don’t know.

My worries melt away, however. Because Izzie grabs my hand and squeezes it underneath the cashmere sweater. 

“Here you go, it’s my Christmas morning specialty,” Mrs. Chopra emerges, handing me a plate of leftovers from last night. “And this once I’ll let someone eat in the living room since you are our guest.”

-

I’m staring into my wardrobe, clothes split into neutrals and colours hung up neatly on wooden hangers. Deep in thought, I tighten the silk robe around my body when there’s a gentle knock.

“I’m changing,” I say, but the door slides open anyway, Paige walks in, hand covering her glasses. I laugh, watching her close it behind her. She bumps into the corner of my vanity, hissing in pain.

“Open your eyes stupid,” I tell her with a giggle.

“Well Ion know if you’re naked or sumn,” she mumbles, but drops the hand.

“Like you would mind that,” I roll my eyes, grabbing a pair of flared yoga pants and a white turtleneck. 

Paige doesn’t answer, her eyes glued to me and my body. The white satin clings to my skin, sheer enough to reveal the lingerie underneath.

“Do you think this is a good fit for our walk?” I ask, laying the clothes out on the bed. But it’s dead silent. “Paige?”

Lifting my gaze, I see her watching me up and down, with a stupid blank look on her face. It sends a jolt through me, her flushed cheek and flustered expression.

“Hellooo?” I ask in a singy-songy voice, snapping her back to reality.

“Huh? - Oh what?” She asks dumbfounded. The trembling of her voice makes me want to straddle her and get her how I liked her. Begging.

I chuckle, glancing at the clothes. “Is this good?” I ask.

Mouth dry, Paige wets her lips and walks over to the bed. “Yeah, that’s good,” she murmurs absentmindedly. Oh I missed this.

“Okay,” I answer simply, and with a single tuck pull the robe open right before her eyes. The blonde gulps, covering the lower half of her face as she unashamedly lets her blue eyes travel downwards my body, taking in the thin satin fabric of my underwear and bra.

“Jesus,” she whispers, as I let the robe fall onto the floor.

“I’m just getting dressed,” I tease, turning to grab the clothes. But before I can her lips are already attacking me, hands wasting no time to squeeze and knead my ass. I whimper into her mouth and the girl takes advantage of that, her tongue clashing with mine. Demanding like she already owns me.

Suddenly I’m a puddle, holding onto her to stay upright. Paige runs her hand up and down my body, like she’s been starved of me. Just the mere touch of her hands is enough to have me wanting her.

”You’re so fucking sexy,” she moans into my mouth. God I know we shouldn’t. I should pull back. But I’m so weak and I haven’t felt pleasure like this since I left.

It doesn’t seem to be my choice, however. Footsteps approach the room, causing me to jump back and grab the robe from the floor, tying it in a rush as the doors to my room open.

”Are you girls ready? We’re about to le-” My dad stops mid-sentence, catching Paige hastily wiping her mouth and me still breathless and flushed. His eyes flicker from the blonde to me, back to the blonde again.

”Sorry, I didn’t interrupt someth-”

”No!” I yelp, my voice shrill. ”Not at all, I’m just getting dressed.”

My father clears his throat, lowering his gaze to the ground.

”Well, I’ll expect you downstairs in 20 minutes,” he smiles awkwardly, closing the door.

”I just need five!” I yell after him, but he’s already gone.

-

Hyde Park is covered in a white frost, left noticeably quieter than usual on Christmas Day. The bare trees are growing old, stood witness to generations of people among them - tourists and Londoners alike. Each exhale leaves silver fog behind it, the air crisp and cool. Yet I feel completely warm and nearly giddy. The Christmas spirit was getting to me I guess.

”Uh, Iz,” Paige murmurs and points to a squirrel, standing on a fence beside her and staring. ”Should I be scared?”

I let out a bright laugh that echoes around the desolate park, wrapping my arm around hers. 

”I’ll protect you,” I joke as we walk away from the squirrel that seems to follow after us, expecting a treat.

”Alright, remember that spider when we were in Chicago?” 

I do remember. I came out running from my hotel room, pounding on Paige’s door, screaming so hard an elderly couple came to check on me. Thankfully the blonde took care of that for me.

“Okay but a spider and a squirrel are entirely different,” I huff, watching my parents and Kiran walking 10 feet ahead of us as we trail back.

“Yeah, a squirrel could actually kill me,” she complains, eyeing the one walking behind us. 

“Wait, say squirrel again,” I demand, the word turning to mush in her mouth as she pronounces it. Very wrong, might I add.

“Yo, stop,” she groans. “It’s hard for me to say.”

I laugh. “Like jewelry?” 

Her mouth falls open as she takes offense to my words, nudging my side with her elbow. I let out a giggle and dodge her attack.

“Stop takin’ the piss,” Paige huffs.

“Oh my God, you used it right!” I squeal loud enough for my parents to glance back at the two of us. Bashfully I look down, laughing to myself.

“Yup, I’m a pro English speaker.”

“You weren’t before?” I ask. Paige laughs and pushes me off her side.

“Man, shut up.”

“Are you girls coming or just plan on giggling back there?” My mother’s voice cuts through the crisp winter air, bringing both our attention to how far back we had trailed. Like two misbehaving teenagers we scurry to them, leaving behind our own little bubble. 

As the gravel path crunches and scrapes against our shoes dragging on it, we’re met with a serene body of water - The Serpentine. Swans, geese and ducks alike are plentiful, following the few visitors besides us for a chance of a piece of bread or pastry. To me and every Londoner it was a normal sight, the swans shockingly tall and intimidating spreading their wings and getting a little too close. But not to the group of girls in front of us who squeal and run away. And apparently, not to Paige either.

“So the birds just run… Free?” She asks unsurely, carefully walking on the right side of me and creating a barrier between herself and the winged creatures.

“Yes, they’re quite fascinating. Don’t fear humans one bit,” my dad mutters as he walks on. Kiran squats down to eye-level with the birds, talking to them to catch their attention. But two geese are already keen on scaring the shit out of the blonde beside me, following after her.

“Iz, they gon’ eat me,” she whispers, taking hurried steps with her long legs to get away. It’s no use, the birds are already too fond of her and follow after. “Help me.”

I laugh easily, finding amusement in her fear. I could tell when it was lighthearted and when it was too serious to find funny. That’s how well I knew her.

“Paige, don’t be dramatic,” I complain but at that very moment one of the pair spreads its wings wide and flaps them at the blonde’s direction - and she lets out a squeal that’s loud enough to make my mother give her a dirty look I hope she misses.

“Help!” She yelps, jogging away. It’s no use. The birds follow. She was just as magnetic to them as she was to me.

“Stop running,” I groan and jog after her, shooing the geese away. She hides behind me, peeking over my shoulder until they’re far away for her to act nonchalant again.

“Yeah they obsessed with me,” she grins, dusting off her shoulders jokingly. “Can’t blame ‘em.”

I roll my eyes in response but in reality I want to laugh. “C’mon,” I tell the girl, pushing her forward on our walk. My mind is filling with ideas on the places I might show her here in London once we’re over these family responsibilities.

We walk past the old maple trees and it takes everything in me not to grab her hand. There’s a couple walking with a dog and a stroller and for a fleeting moment I imagine it’s us. I swear I can see it in my head like it’s real.

“You see those benches?” I ask Paige, pointing at the ones underneath a particularly large and tall tree with its bare branches twisting over the seat. She nods, her eyes following my hand. “I love sitting there just to read.”

Paige gives me this look that I can’t quite understand, but her eyes soften with it. 

“Remember when you used to read at our practice?” She asks gently. Somehow we’ve trailed into our own bubble again.

“I tried but you got me distracted. I barely finished a book when I was in Dallas.”

Paige chuckles and I can tell it pains her just as much not to wrap her arm around me and to kiss my forehead. I wish we could. Something about the cold weather and Hyde Park and the smell of the lake and the trees had me wanting her near.

The faint Christmas songs play on the radio as we drive home and I have to bite my lip not to lean on the blonde’s shoulder. We sit in the backseat like children, Paige, Kiran and me in the middle as I was the smallest, all red cheeks and cold hands.

“Hey,” Paige whispers into my ear, and I let her hot breath tickle my cheek. “I have like no boxers left I gotta go get sum clothes from my hotel.”

I nod in response, my stomach flipping at the idea of her spending another night. Leaving her hair, her scent, her weight on my mattress. 

“You wanna come with me?” She asks, and her knee presses into mine. I almost groan.

“Yes,” I say without hesitation. 

Her and I call a cab the moment we get to the house, standing by the front steps and waiting for it to arrive. Something about having Paige here made me feel adolescent again, to see the girl leaning on the front gate like me and my friends used to after school to spend just a moment longer together. Though, I was such an anxious child and an even more anxious teenager. I don’t think adulthood has made me any more calm, but with her around everything felt better. My father's gloves on her hands dusting the frost off the hedges, still covered in white when we sit in the cab.

“I had to get the suite,” Paige murmurs as she taps the keycard against the door to unlock the hotel room with a quiet beep. “It was the only thing that wasn’t taken.”

She opens the door for me, letting me enter first. I could tell it was a suite from the fact that the space was split into multiple different rooms, the bedroom behind double doors and white balmoral panelling decorating the tall walls. It must have cost a fortune and still she had spent the night in my bed under my parents’ roof.

“Why aren’t we spending Christmas here?” I joke, opening the doors to find a large bed covered in white sheets, perfectly made. “Matter of fact, why would we even go back to mine.”

Paige chuckles and walks up behind me, her hand wrapping around my waist and palm pressing into my stomach. It reminds me of something that sends a jolt up my thighs.

“I got a feeling your parents wouldn’t like me stealing their daughter away on Christmas,” she teases into my ear, lips nearly grazing my skin. My breath hitches.

“Who cares, they’d understand if they saw these sheets,” I shake free from her touch, walking to the end of the bed. It was too overwhelming and I don’t know how long I could bear her touch if I had to talk to Jasper first.

The blonde walks to her suitcase, digging something out. “Sit down,” she orders and I do as she says. “Close your eyes.”

I close them, stomach flipping at the thoughts of what might happen. I hated surprises. I hear the blonde digging for something and then the approaching steps and her weight creating a dip in the mattress. She places something in my hands, something flat.

“Open.”

And I do. On my lap there’s a Cadbury chocolate bar, with a little ribbon wrapped around it. My eyes widen as I see it. My heart leaps. It means more than all the expensive rubbish Jasper got me.

“It’s not much I know,” Paige explains anxiously. “But I had to get you something. And I know you can get those everywhere here so it’s probably so dumb that I got that fo-”

Her sentence is interrupted with my lips attacking hers, my hands tucking on her low pony. She’s kissing me back feverishly. Her hands already pull on my jacket, pushing it off me. I let it drop to the ground, sitting up to straddle her. She invites me on her lap and it feels like home when her familiar hands rub up and down my back. At this moment there’s no Jasper, no Dallas or London or Christmas or family waiting. Only us.

The kiss is all tongue and teeth but neither of us seem to mind, too hungry for each other to care. When I pull back Paige’s lips are swollen and bruised, eyes watering behind the glasses. I reach to take them off but she stops me.

“Don’t,” she pants, her voice hoarse and deep. “I wanna see you.”

So I let her. I pull the white turtleneck off as she watches, licking her pink lips. Her hands grab the back of my head and pull me into a kiss. The chocolate bar is somewhere on the floor, only an afterthought. We kiss and kiss and kiss for what feels like hours, my body trembling and underwear dampening as our lips slick with spit glide against each other. I’m getting desperate, grinding my hips down on her. I haven’t wanted anyone this much ever before.

Paige’s hands dip underneath my leggings to knead the skin of my ass as she tries to push them off. I climb off of her, and staring into her hungry eyes I pull them down. We’re far too gone to stop now. I stand before her in a white satin lingerie set, but she is still fully clothed. That’s not right.

“Take your clothes off,” I command, watching the way her cheeks redden in response. It sends chills up and down my spine. She merely nods and scrambles on the bed to get the pale lavender Nike set off, leaving her sitting there in a pair of grey boxers and a sports bra and a stupid look on her face.

“I said take them off,” I murmur, though I’m already salivating at the sight of her like this. Those broad shoulders and a defined but soft stomach, those fucking arms, her thighs. God might never forgive me for the sinful things I have thought about in the last 5 months. Or what I’m about to do now.

“All of them.”

“Yeah, okay,” she mumbles, mouth ajar and eyes growing heavier in those glasses. When she obeys without hesitation, I feel a gush of wetness spilling out of me. I swallow hard. Paige undresses, first the sports bra. Her nipples harden against the chill air of the hotel room, goosebumps rising on her skin. Then, finally, her boxers are kicked off and she’s bare and naked and only herself in front of me. I can’t help but gasp.

I follow suit, not even considering the bright daylight or the open curtains. I don’t care. All I care about is her. I unbuckle my bra, letting it fall off. Paige’s eyes follow, dropping from my face to my breasts. Her mouth falls slack and she takes her hand between her legs. She’s already wet, the sounds coming from the way her fingers rub her pussy telling me so. I know she’s thought those sinful thoughts too.

My green eyes follow the movement of her fingers, suddenly starving. I kick off my damp underwear, leaving them somewhere on the floor. Paige watches, breath hitching in her throat as she rubs sloppy circles on her clit. I gush between my legs.

“C’mere,” she tells me hoarsely and I do as she says. I straddle her again, and Paige grabs my hand and drags it down between my own legs for me. I feel frustrated, hadn’t I done this enough while we were apart? Rubbed myself swollen and soaked just at the thought of her? But it’s a game and she wants to play it. And I want to do whatever she wants me to.

“Oh,” I sigh when my fingers make contact with my clit, and I throw my head back. But with her free hand Paige grabs my hair and forces my gaze back to her. Her brows are arching in pleasure.

“Paige,” I plead.

“Whatchu want mama?” She asks. She already knows, but she wants me to say it.

“You,” I moan, my slick covering my fingers. “Want to ride you.”

With a groan she shuffles back on the bed, and suddenly her glistening fingers are rubbing against my lips. I let my tongue flick over my lower lip. It tastes like her. Just as I remembered. My hand grabs her left leg and pulls it over my shoulder, chest heaving with need. I felt lightheaded, my body working before my mind could catch up.

I spread her pussy apart and slot myself against her, drool nearly dripping out of my mouth as I watch. The blonde watches too, bucking her hips closer. My cunt presses against hers, our clits brushing, and it’s over.

”Oh shit,” she groans, shutting her eyes. I moan too. God I had missed this. The way she shutters underneath me, the sound of her whimpers, how wet she gets - it’s all for me.

”Paige,” I gasp, leaning back for a better angle and holding onto her knee as I grind myself into her. We’re both wet and slick against each other. I’m dripping all over her almost embarrassingly. I forgot how good sex can feel.

”You look so sexy,” she hisses, grabbing onto my hips and pulling my core into her harder. Paige is desperate, already moaning and falling apart. She’s so beautiful, breathless and red in the face.

My tits bounce along with my movements, my clit dragging against hers deliciously. The coil in my abdomen tightens. I had been dreaming of this moment for months and it was so much better than I could ever imagine. I’m drowning in her.

”Fuck keep doing that,” Paige moans. My nails dig into the skin of her legs. ”Keep doing that, ma and I’ma nut.”

”Feel so good my love,” I whimper, eyes rolling back. My legs feel tired, the muscles burning but I don’t care.

”You like ridin’ me?”

I nod desperately. ”I love riding you.” My movements turn rapid and desperate as my high builds bigger and bigger.

”Yeah, ride that shit,” she hisses, other hand dragging from my hip upwards past my breast to my lips. My mouth parts for her and I wrap my lips around her fingers, a faint taste of her still on them.

I moan against her fingers, my tongue circling her digits as I keep grinding harder and faster, our wetness causing loud squelching sounds to emerge. Paige’s eyes roll back and her moans turn high pitched - she’s right there. Which is enough to get me there too.

With gasps and moans we both fall apart, my legs trembling with exhaustion but I keep going and going, riding out our highs. Paige is whimpering and grabbing me everywhere, back aching against the mattress. I can’t look away even when my orgasm hits. I waited far too long for this

”Goddamn,” Paige mutters as I slow down, chest heaving. I push my hair back as the girl pulls her fingers out of my mouth. I let her leg fall off my shoulder back to the mattress, ready to crash on top of her with exhaustion. But the blonde has other plans.

She wraps her hands around both my thighs, pulling me to her mouth. I’ve barely come down from my last climax when I realise what she’s doing.

”Paige, my legs,” I whine but her grip only tightens as I hover over her mouth. In every other setting I would feel embarrassed being this close and exposed to someone. But not her.

”Don’t worry mama,” she moans at the sight of me. Dripping and swollen, still throbbing. ”Just sit down.”

-

It’s heaven to taste her like this, to see her this close. I want to devour her, my tongue circling her clit. But she’s still hovering. Her legs shake around my face. At this point I don’t care if I can’t breathe.

”Baby I’ma need you to sit,” I mumble against her core. She shutters.

”Paige I-”

”I said sit the fuck down,” my voice is full of authority as I pull her down and suddenly her weight is on my face. I could drown in her and I just might. I’m sucking on her clit, hands kneading her perfect ass.

”Baby,” she gasps, her moans suddenly louder as she grabs hold of my hair. It hurts as she yanks it which only makes me buck my hips in the air. She tastes better than I remembered. I wanted to eat this pussy forever.

”Ride my face mama,” I murmur into her, laying my tongue flat. She’s too gone to resist, blindly following every order I give her. Grabbing my hair tighter she begins to grind her pussy against me, her clit nudging against my nose as my tongue dips inside her. She’s gushing all over. I was wrong, this is heaven.

”It’s my pussy,” I moan against her, my core throbbing just at the taste of her. ”Tell me.”

”It’s your pussy baby,” she whimpers, grinding harder and faster. I can barely breathe. ”It’s all yours.” To hear such sinful things coming out of her sweet mouth causes that familiar knot to build within me. And when I open my eyes the sight only makes me get closer - Izzie, leaning back and hair flowing in the air, breasts perked up and round as she grinds herself onto me. I want her like this forever.

”Fucking love this pussy, gonna be eatin’ this all day you feel me?” I murmur against her, my tongue slipping in her slick folds.

”Mmm baby whatever you want,” Iz cries out. ”Can have whatever you want.”

”That’s my girl,” I groan. My girl.

”It’s your pussy Paige.”

”I own you?” I pant out. I needed to hear it. The confirmation I had been dying for. She might date whoever, but her body and her mind are mine. They’ve always been mine.

She mewls and her body trembles. She wants it so bad. But she’s just so tired. 

”You own me,” she whimpers, her moans impossibly loud. I just hope the walls are soundproof enough - but then again, let everyone hear. Let the whole city know who Izara Chopra belongs to.

I grab hold of her legs to stop the movements that were turning frantic and sloppy. She lets out a moan of relief, holding onto my hair as I do the work for her. My jaw aches and my tongue is tired but I lap her up, her taste and the sounds of her mouth enough to get me moaning.

”Paige, I’m gonna cum,” she cries out, legs trembling around me. Those high pitched whimpers, fuck I forgot how good they sounded. My hand drags down to my clit. I’m soaked again.

”Cum on my face baby,” I murmur against her, having to rub my clit lightly only a few times to get my own climax to build. I never wanted to cum so bad - with her pussy on my face and her taste in my mouth.

”Oh shit, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she moans, tugging harder and harder. I can’t breathe. I don’t care. I feel the knot in my stomach build and build and build.

”Oh fuck,” Izzie cries out, grabbing the wall in front of her as she climaxes, gushing down my face. I drink her up, the taste of her overwhelming me as I cum too, forcing my eyes to stay open so I can watch her.

”Paige,” she sighs and I keep holding her down, lapping her wetness up. Iz squeals and pushes my hands off her with a laugh. ”Paige stop!”

”I dunno if I can,” I admit, not sure if it’s sweat or her that’s dripping down my neck.

She crashes beside me, trying to catch her breath. Her makeup is running down her cheeks and her black hair is knotted at her neck but she’s never looked so beautiful. How I missed seeing her this way.

We both know it’s not right. She’s not all mine really. There’s still Jasper, and a lot for us to figure out. But right now I don’t care. I pull her into me and smell her hair unashamedly.

”You got no idea how much I missed you,” I whisper into her. She meets my words with a kiss and I know she feels the same.

”Wanna lie here forever,” she murmurs into my skin. I almost melt, my heart jolts almost uncomfortably. The things I would give up for her, I hope she knows. I love her. Endlessly. Irrevocably. Forever.

The cruel sound of her phone buzzing on the ground cuts through the air. She scrambles to her feet like a baby deer, still shaking and naked.

”It’s my mom,” she groans. ”She’s asking why we’re taking so long and that Christmas dinner will be done soon.”

”Shit, what time is it?” I ask, getting up to get dressed. Iz watches, amused.

”Oh no, I’m not taking you back till you’ve showered gorgeous,” she tells me, snapping her fingers towards the bathroom. ”Chop chop.”

-

My legs still shake at Christmas dinner, a reminder of the sin shared by me and Paige. It doesn’t help when my father makes her sit right next to me, and her knee presses into me, the heat of her skin against mine only separated by the worn softness of her loose jeans.

A weird silence looms over the table as we eat, until my dad clears her throat.

”How nice to be just with family,” he says, taking a sip of his wine. Kiran laughs.

”Dad, Paige is here,” he points out. Paige and I chuckle too.

”Oh, right,” he says, eyes widening as they turn to her. ”I suppose I meant how nice for Jasper to be elsewhere.”

”Rohan!” My mother gasps, and for a fleeting second I think she might chuck a pig in a blanket at him. I’m surprised too. I knew he wasn’t fond of Jasper but I never realised how much he actually disapproved. Still, his name hits like a wave against the rocks on a shore.

”He’s a nice lad! Just a bit much sometimes,” my father defends. My mom is fuming.

”Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you,” she hisses, putting her cutlery down. ”You’re confusing poor Izzie.”

I put my cutlery down too, suddenly losing my appetite. I hated when they infantilized me, like I was a child so easy to manipulate.

”Could we not talk about this right now?” I ask, keeping a cool tone with effort.

”See,” my dad grins and leans back on his chair. ”She doesn’t want to talk about Jasper either.” He looks smugly at my mother.

It both frustrates and embarrasses me. Why did he have to do this now with Paige sitting beside me. I didn’t want her to see this. I didn’t know anything.

”Stop!” I yelp, making even Kiran put his food down. The silence that falls over is heavy, everyone’s eyes are on me.

I get up clearing my throat. ”Excuse me,” I murmur, my cheeks feeling hot. Ignoring my mother’s refusals, I walk out and straight to the living room, to the grand piano.

Swallowing my frustration, my fingers drag over the white keys, pressing down on each of them. Lazily I play the notes of Clair De Lune still found somewhere deep in my cortex from the piano lessons I took as a kid. I sit there for a while, in the twinkling light of the Christmas tree.

”I didn’t know you play,” Paige’s voice interrupts me, making me stop.

”I used to,” I admit, making space for her on the stool. There barely is any. I remember when Kiran and I were small enough to easily fit both of us.

”Keep playin’,” the blonde murmurs. She knows I’m not in a mood to talk about it. And I’m too upset to feel shy over my rusty skills. My fingers play the notes of Your Song, gently humming the melody. It’s almost impossible to stay focused under the burning gaze of the blonde beside me.

She merely watches as I play, the tension in the dining room a distant memory now. I consider kissing her. Until my father knocks on the archway, making me stop and Paige to drop her gaze.

”She’s some player huh,” he says as he walks closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. ”I always thought she could play professionally.”

”She’s the best,” Paige hums and her tone is so loving and gentle it makes my cheeks flush.

”Would you mind if I talk to my daughter just for a moment,” he asks. ”I’ll have her back to you in no time.”

”’Course,” Paige scrambles onto her feet but checks with me before leaving. I nod, letting her go. I move to the couch with him.

”Great kid,” he points towards the archway where Paige had disappeared just moments ago.

”Yeah,” I hum. ”The best.”

He stares at me with a strange look. Funny, you’d think that you know your parents through and through, every look and sound and their hidden meanings. But I have no idea what this particular gaze means.

”I wanted to apologize for my behaviour,” weird, he wasn’t one to apologize normally.

”It’s okay,” I smile dryly, playing with the hem of my knitted dress.

He scooches a little closer to me, like he’s about to tell me something important. I perk up, watching into his face. 

“You won’t understand until you’re a parent yourself,” he starts. “But all I want for you is happiness. Your mother too, though she has a strange way of showing it.”

I chuckle at his words.

“And if Jasper makes you happy, then I’m happy for you both.”

There’s a but coming.

“But,” there it is. “And maybe I’m wrong, but it doesn’t seem like he does.”

I clear my throat, dropping my gaze to my lap. I feel unsure of what to say. I know he’s right, but it’s different to say it outloud. To finally admit something I’ve known all along.

“That’s all,” he says, realising how flustered I got. “Just think about it,” he waves it off like he didn’t just have me nearly spiraling, grabbing a book from the coffee table and skimming through it. Until he puts it down again, avoiding my gaze.

“I’ve never seen you laugh so much or so loud since Paige came over,” he says with a lighthearted tone. But I have an inkling he means something else, something that makes my stomach churn. “You seem happy.”

Before I can answer, Kiran and mum barge into the room shifting the mood entirely. Of course, my mother ignored what happened in the dining room, like she ignored every problem.

“Love Actually time?” Kiran asks, taking a seat on the chair my father usually sits in.

“What’s Love Actually?” Paige asks as she enters the room too. Suddenly everything feels lighter.

“The best Christmas movie ever,” Kiran says. “We watch it every Christmas.”

“It is a British staple,” my mum chimes in. I make space for Paige in the corner of the couch as the movie starts playing. But my mind is elsewhere, somewhere between Jasper and my father’s words and the way my life might turn out. It’s enough to cause a headache, or maybe it’s the wine.

-

“Why are all these songs bangers?” I whisper to Izzie as we watch the movie. I’m fully invested, and happy to be included in something that felt like such an intimate family activity. A bowl of chocolate is being passed around, Rohan trying to hand it to his daughter mindlessly. But she won’t grab it.

Izzie’s dad leans forward and lets out a gentle laugh. “I think she’s asleep,” he whispers. And in that moment, to confirm his suspicions, her head lulls until it finds its home in the crook of my arm. I pray to God no one notices the way my cheeks turn bright pink.

“Yeah, I think so too,” I laugh, careful not to wake the girl up. Instead, almost instinctively, I wrap my arm around her and pull her in. It’s platonic enough to not seem suspicious. I think. Her scent lingers in the air, mixing with the Christmas tree sitting pretty in a corner. I want to have every Christmas like this.

The couch shifts slightly as Rohan gets up, his usually heavy steps light and careful. Grabbing a blanket from the edge of the chair, he walks over and tugs me and Izara under it. Mrs. Chopra turns, watchful from the opposite corner of the couch. Kiran looks too. But Rohan offers me a warm smile when my eyes meet his, and brushes a strand of Izzie’s hair off her face. She stirs, nuzzling her nose into me. But Rohan only smiles. And in that moment I know that he knows - and it feels like permission.

-

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[nan-not-found]

“You Coming or What?”

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader Word Count: 815

You were halfway through folding laundry in your living room when three quick, aggressive knocks slammed into your front door like they were trying to pick a fight.

You blinked at it. “...What the hell?”

When you opened the door, Katsuki Bakugou stood there, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other holding a second motorcycle helmet.

His usual scowl was in place, but his eyes—sharp and focused—were locked directly on you. His black riding jacket was already zipped up halfway, his ash-blonde hair slightly windblown.

“Get your shoes,” he said, holding out the spare helmet like it was obvious. “We’re goin’ for a ride.”

You stared at him.

Then down at the helmet.

Then back at him.

“You just show up at my place without a text or a call and demand I jump on a bike with you?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Didn’t think I needed to make a damn appointment.”

You folded your arms across your chest, trying not to let the way he looked in that jacket—or the way your name sounded in his voice—get to you. “What if I was busy?”

“You were folding socks. I saw through the window.”

“Excuse me for trying to have a productive Sunday.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t budge. Just held the helmet out again, this time with a little more emphasis.

“You said you liked bikes. Said you’d never been on one,” he muttered, eyes narrowing slightly. “So I’m fixing that. You coming or not?”

Your heart did a quiet somersault.

Bakugou wasn’t one for soft declarations or planned-out dates. When he did something, it was direct, no room for hesitation. So if he was standing here now, helmet in hand, it meant he’d been thinking about this. About you.

“...You brought a spare helmet,” you said softly, taking it from him.

“‘Course I did,” he grunted. “Ain’t gonna let you ride with me without it.”

You smiled a little. “Aw, you do care.”

He gave you a glare, but it didn’t quite land the way it used to. “Tch. Don’t start.”

Ten minutes later, you were holding onto Bakugou’s back, your arms wrapped tight around his torso as the bike rumbled beneath you.

You could feel the heat of him even through his jacket—solid, warm; the scent of his cologne and smoke lingering as he revved the engine and tore down the road.

City lights streaked past you like fireflies.

You’d never felt safer.

Bakugou didn’t say much during the ride. He didn’t need to. The way his gloved hand reached back once to squeeze your thigh—checking if you were okay, if you were still with him—spoke volumes.

He drove until the city faded behind you, until all that was left was the quiet stretch of coastal road and the sound of waves crashing nearby.

When he finally pulled off into a secluded overlook, the sky above was streaked with deep oranges and purples—sunset in full bloom.

You climbed off, pulling off your helmet with a breathless laugh. “That was—okay, yeah, that was amazing.”

“Told you.” He smirked, hanging his own helmet on the handlebar before turning to lean against the bike. “You gripped me like you were gonna fly off.”

“I thought I was!” you shot back playfully, walking toward him. “That thing moves like hell.”

He snorted. “You’ll get used to it.”

Silence settled between you for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The ocean breeze was soft, the light turning his hair gold at the edges. He was watching you carefully now—quiet, unreadable.

You nudged his side. “Why today, Bakugou?”

He looked away for a second, then shrugged, jaw tight. “Just felt like it.”

Your brow rose. “Right. And you just happened to bring a spare helmet you’ve probably had sitting around for a while?”

He gave you a dry look. “You gonna keep talkin’ or you gonna thank me properly?”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Dumbass,” he muttered, voice dropping to something softer. “I wanted to spend time with you. Thought this was a good way to do it. You said you liked when I let you in on stuff I don't show everyone else.”

Something shifted in his expression then—open vulnerability trying hard to disguise itself as irritation.

Your heart twisted.

You stepped closer, until the toes of your shoes bumped his boots. “You don’t have to pretend you’re not being sweet.”

He scoffed. “Ain’t sweet. Just not a shitty boyfriend.”

You blinked again. “Wait… boyfriend?”

Bakugou froze.

Shit.

But before he could try to backtrack, you leaned in, arms looping around his neck. “Good. Because I didn’t wanna be the only one thinking that’s where we were heading.”

His red eyes widened just slightly, the lines of tension easing in his shoulders as he looked at you.

“...Yeah?” he asked.

You smiled. “Yeah.”

Then you kissed him.

And this time, he didn’t need to say anything at all.

__

thank you @invisiboom12 for the idea 😉

Masterlist

[houseofaegon]

can I put in a request for Rhett Abbott x Reader? They’re in his truck since they were “star gazing”but a hot steamy make out ends up with reader riding him and before he finishes, reader goes down on him.

DEAD OF NIGHT ╱ RHETT ABBOTT X FEM!READER

"you wake me up, you say it's time to ride in the dead of night"

+18 MINORS DNI 𓏲  ◟ ♡ ˖ ࣪  no use of y/n, fluff, explicit sexual content, unprotected p in v, oral sex (m!receving), best friend!rhett, dirty talk, explicit language, praise kink, grinding, save a horse ride a cowboy!!!! mention of unrequited feelings, mutual pinning, sexual tension, friends to lovers trope, stargazing under the wyoming sky with rhett!! <3

SUMMARY: you didn't really plan on spending tonight anywhere but in bed, binge-watching true crime and savoring wine. but when your best friend rhett abbott texts you at 1 am asking you to come outside, your comfortable night in turns into a starry, intimate confession beneath the wyoming sky. the lines of friendship blur deliciously into something deeper and hotter—under constellations and blankets on rhett's truck. and he finally shows you exactly how long he's been waiting to make you his.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: aaaaahhhh!!! thank you soooo much for requesting rhett!! this is my first ever fic for him and i'm so excited to write more outer range stuff!! ughhh i love rhett so fucking much you have no idea!! i'm already through season 2 and oh my god?? it's soooo good!!!! literally obsessed with rhett and cowboys. head over heels for my favorite bull rider!! he just does things to me gahhhhh stargazing, confessions under the night sky, and riding rhett?? sign me tfff up!!! thank you for this ask, i loved the idea so much<3 i hope you like it! love, your friendly neighborhood cowboy-lover, bri.

You weren't really planning on doing anything tonight. Your warm bed awaited patiently, the cold sheets a welcoming embrace, while an unopened bottle of red Sauvignon shimmered in the silver glow of the moonlight streaming through your window. Netflix was paused on your TV—a true crime documentary glowing softly on the screen—waiting patiently to wash away the week's stress.

Your phone buzzed, jolting you from your cozy haze. You groaned softly—who the hell was texting at nearly one in the morning?

Rhett🤠💛: You awake, sweetheart?

You bit your lip, smiling softly. Your heart fluttered involuntarily at the sight of his name on your screen. Of course, Rhett Abbott would be the culprit. Always Rhett, your best friend since forever, your ride-or-die cowboy with that infuriatingly cocky grin and sky-blue eyes that always made your breath catch in your chest.

You: depends on what awake means

He responded immediately, almost as if he'd been waiting for your answer.

Rhett🤠💛: Eyes open, heartbeat steady. You missin’ me?

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warm.

You: you wish, cowboy

Rhett🤠💛: I sure do. Come to your window.

Frowning curiously, your phone buzzed again—his picture lighting up the screen. You sighed, unable to hide your amusement as you swiped to answer.

"You're ridiculous," you murmured into the phone, padding across the floor and pulling back the curtains.

There he stood, propped against his trusty old truck, cowboy hat tilted just right, his smirk lazy and infuriatingly charming beneath the porch lights. He lifted his head to meet your gaze, and even at a distance, you could see his eyes shimmer mischievously.

“It’s almost one in the morning, Rhett. What the hell are you doing here?” you whispered into the phone, but he could hear the smile in your voice.

He chuckled warmly. “C’mon down, sweetheart. Don’t keep me waitin’. Got somethin' to show ya.”

“Fine, give me a minute.”

“Take your time, darlin’. Not like I'm freezin' my ass off or anything.”

“It’s barely cold, drama queen,” you scoffed, and he laughed lightly, a sound that melted into your bones.

You ended the call, grinning to yourself, excitement making your heart skip as you quickly shed your oversized shirt and slipped into a delicate white sundress, stepping into your worn, beloved cowboy boots.

You ran down, finding him exactly where you'd left him, the same stupidly charming smirk stretched across his face.

"Howdy, darlin'," he drawled, eyes flickering appreciatively over you.

“You’re obnoxious,” you teased, nudging his shoulder lightly.

“Ah,” Rhett countered easily, swinging open his passenger door for you, eyes glittering warmly beneath his hat. “But you love it.”

You hesitated dramatically. “You sure you’re not kidnapping me?”

Rhett grinned, eyes darkening playfully beneath his hat. “Kidnappin’? Well shit, sweetheart, sounds terribly hot.”

You scoffed, climbing up into the truck. "You're disgusting."

“Only for you,” he drawled, sliding into the driver's seat and firing up the engine.

As he drove, you stole glances his way. Rhett Abbott—playboy, flirt, and the keeper of your deepest secrets. He knew your favorite songs, your go-to midnight snacks, how you liked your coffee, and the names of every one of your childhood pets. He’d been there for your best and worst days, steadfast and irritatingly observant, noticing things about you no one else bothered to. Like how your brow furrowed when you were stressed, or the particular kind of silence you kept when something upset you. He noticed every detail. Every quiet shift.

God, you loved him.

You'd loved him—helplessly, recklessly, and quietly.

You’d loved Rhett Abbott for longer than you could remember, every stolen glance embedding deeper in your heart, every casual brush of his hand against your skin lingering long after he pulled away. Your love had become a secret you cradled close, hidden safely in shadows and subtle sighs, nestled in sleepless nights spent dreaming of what could be, wrapped in every heartbeat that stuttered at the mere sound of his laughter.

But confessing? Fuck no.

The thought alone terrified you. It was easy to joke with him, easy to laugh at his teasing comments and playful flirtations because that was Rhett. Cocky, charming, effortlessly alluring, the guy who could walk into any room and draw every eye. He had always been your best friend, your constant, your confidant. But turning this steady, beloved friendship into something else—something uncertain and dangerously delicate—felt far too risky.

And then there was Maria Olivares.

A shadow from high school, Rhett’s supposed ‘great love.’ You’d spent years watching him chase after her, hearing him speak her name like it was poetry he memorized. Though lately, you noticed he barely mentioned her anymore. Still, the echo of her presence lingered—a reminder that maybe you were just a placeholder, someone to distract him when the memories became too sharp. Maybe his lingering glances and softened touches were simply illusions your foolish heart conjured because you wanted them so badly to be real.

How could you risk it?

Because risking your heart felt like risking everything else too—every late-night phone call, every comfortable silence, every inside joke whispered conspiratorially between you two. Your friendship with Rhett Abbott was your safe place, a precious shelter built over countless nights spent laughing until dawn, confiding secrets no one else knew, sharing fears, hopes, dreams you trusted only to each other.

It was safer to keep quiet, safer to keep smiling and teasing, safer to pretend you didn’t notice the way his eyes lingered on you longer lately, the way his voice softened whenever he murmured "sweetheart," the way your heart skipped wildly, frantically, beneath his attentive gaze.

Because losing Rhett—even the smallest chance of it—would shatter your heart completely, leaving you lost and adrift without the boy you’d always loved quietly, desperately, hopelessly from the shadows.

So, you buried your secret deeper still, hiding it behind careful laughter and practiced smiles, behind sarcastic retorts and playful banter, hoping it would remain safely hidden—hoping, selfishly, that someday it might finally, mercifully slip free.

But until then, you'd guard it fiercely, keeping the love you felt safely, silently yours.

It was safer this way, even if it hurt.

And god, did it hurt.

“You’re definitely kidnapping me,” you teased lightly, noticing he was heading toward his ranch’s secluded pastures.

“Maybe,” he replied playfully, eyes gleaming beneath the moonlight. “Maybe I’m gonna murder you and hide your pretty little body somewhere out in these woods.”

“So romantic,” you deadpanned sarcastically.

He snorted softly, shaking his head. "Shut up, dumbass."

Beside you, Rhett’s heart beat quickly, his thoughts tangled and aching. He glanced at you—his best friend, his sweet torment. You were everything to him: your laughter, your teasing words, your stubborn kindness. He knew every hidden freckle, every quiet sigh, every favorite snack. He’d spent years drowning himself in meaningless distractions, Maria a distant memory that had long faded beneath your gentle presence.

He loved you desperately, fiercely, terrified that admitting it would send you running from him. Because if he lost you—he’d lose everything.

When Rhett parked in the open field, he hopped down smoothly, rounding to your side. Before you could protest, his strong hands gripped your waist, easily lifting you from the seat. You squealed in protest, and he laughed warmly, setting you down gently by the tailgate. Opening it, he revealed blankets and pillows piled invitingly.

You raised an eyebrow playfully. “If you wanted sex, Abbott, you could’ve just asked.”

Rhett leaned in close, breath warm against your ear. “Sweetheart, trust me—if I wanted that tonight, you'd already know.”

Your cheeks flushed hot as he chuckled, delighting in your reaction. His grip softened, gentle once more, easing you up to sit atop the truck bed.

“I remember you told me once—probably drunk off your ass—that you loved stargazin’,” Rhett said softly, almost shyly, glancing upward. “Thought you might like this.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He remembered. Always so perceptive, attentive to every quiet detail you'd shared, every fleeting whisper you'd half-forgotten yourself. Rhett Abbott somehow catalogued every secret part of your soul.

"Are you serious?" Your voice was breathless, touched.

"Dead serious," he confirmed softly, hopping onto the truck bed beside you, reclining back and patting his chest invitingly. "C'mere."

After a shy hesitation, you sank against him, head gently nestled over his steady heartbeat. The sky stretched out overhead, an ocean of glittering starlight, infinite, and breathtakingly beautiful.

Rhett pointed lazily upward. "Alright, stargirl. Which one’s that?"

“Orion,” you smiled.

He hummed approval, voice teasing. "Alright, what about that one over there?"

"Cassiopeia."

He chuckled warmly. “You’re real good at this.”

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed softly.

“Yeah,” Rhett murmured, voice softer. “So damn beautiful.”

Your gaze shifted, heart thumping, realizing he wasn’t looking at the sky—he was looking at you.

His fingers brushed tenderly along your cheek, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear. His thumb traced your lower lip lightly, and he whispered huskily, eyes searching yours, “You're beautiful.”

“Rhett,” you murmured breathlessly.

In the breathless heartbeat that followed, he surged forward, cradling your face in his strong, calloused hands, claiming your mouth in a fierce yet tender kiss. Your world spun wildly as you melted instantly into his embrace, lips moving hungrily, passionately against his own.

He groaned low into your mouth, desperation and relief laced in the sound. “God, sweetheart,” he murmured feverishly between kisses, “wanted this—wanted you for so fucking long.”

His tongue traced hotly along your lower lip, teasing entrance until your mouth parted eagerly beneath him, allowing him in, tasting and teasing until you moaned breathlessly.

“You drive me crazy, darlin’,” he growled softly, gripping the back of your neck possessively, deepening the kiss until it felt like he was stealing the breath straight from your lungs. “Think about you all the goddamn time.”

“Rhett—” you whispered, clutching at his shoulders, fingertips sinking into muscle, holding him desperately close. “Me too—god, please…”

At your whispered confession, something snapped in Rhett, and his kisses turned frantic, heated, teeth tugging lightly at your lip, dragging delicious moans from your throat. His hands roamed possessively, slipping beneath your dress, tracing urgently over the curve of your thighs, your hips, grasping firmly to anchor you closer.

“C'mere, baby,” he rasped, voice rough with need as he pulled you onto his lap. You gasped sharply, thighs parting instinctively, knees bracketing his waist. Your dress rucked up high, pooling carelessly around your hips as his hands gripped and kneaded your bare thighs, pulling you tight against him.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart—” he groaned, head falling back slightly as you ground experimentally against the rigid, straining bulge of his jeans. “Just like that, baby—god, you feel so fucking good.”

Your hands tangled into his soft hair, tugging lightly to tilt his head back, exposing his throat for your lips to explore hungrily. Rhett shuddered beneath you, growling deeply in his chest, fingers gripping tighter, pulling you closer, hips thrusting upwards desperately, chasing friction.

“So good,” he whispered fervently into your skin, teeth scraping tenderly at your collarbone. “So fucking perfect, baby—wanted to touch you like this for so damn long.”

You whimpered softly, rolling your hips faster, grinding harder against his hardness. He hissed sharply, fingers bruising into your hips, guiding your frantic movements, desperate to feel you closer, deeper.

“Need you, Rhett,” you pleaded softly, breath ragged and trembling.

He surged upright, pressing you flush against him, kissing you deeply, fiercely, as his fingers swiftly undid his jeans. “You’ve got me, sweetheart. Always.”

When you finally sank onto him, stretching deliciously around him, he groaned loudly—unrestrained, wild with pleasure. “Fuck—sweetheart,” he gasped, voice strained with raw pleasure. “Look how good you take me, darlin’—goddamn—so tight, so fucking perfect.”

You moaned his name, tossing your head back, riding him slow and deep beneath the watchful eyes of the stars. He leaned back against the truck bed, eyes glued hungrily to your flushed face, awed by every gasp and whimper falling from your parted lips.

“You look like a goddamn dream riding me like that,” he praised roughly, hands gripping your waist, guiding you up and down, matching each roll of your hips. “Fuck—just like that, beautiful. God, yes.”

Your nails dragged lightly down his chest, back arching beautifully beneath his heated gaze. Pleasure coiled tight within you, spiraling, pushing you to the edge until your rhythm faltered, breath catching sharply.

“Rhett—fuck—I’m gonna—” you gasped desperately, riding him faster, harder, chasing release.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged roughly, his thumb brushing firmly over your sensitive clit. “Let go—I wanna feel you come undone.”

His words sent you spiraling, shattering instantly around him. “Oh fuck, Rhett—” you cried out loudly, moaning shamelessly, trembling as pleasure consumed you, shaking wildly around him.

“Good girl,” he groaned, voice thick and hoarse with adoration. “So perfect, sweetheart—fuck, you feel so good.”

Before he could tip over the edge himself, you slid off his lap with a wicked smirk, sinking down onto your knees between his spread thighs.

“Jesus Christ,” he rasped, eyes darkening hungrily as your mouth enveloped him completely, hot and wet and perfect. “Oh fuck—baby, yes—”

He trembled beneath your touch, hips bucking involuntarily as your tongue swirled and teased. “God, your mouth—fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart—gonna make me come.”

You hummed softly, the vibration sending him spiraling, fingers gripping your hair desperately, gently guiding your head, hips thrusting shallowly, lost in your wet, warm mouth.

“Fuck—I’m—” Rhett gasped raggedly, head thrown back, stars dancing behind his eyes as he came undone, spilling hotly into your mouth. You swallowed obediently, savoring him, your eyes locked wickedly onto his flushed face.

“Come here,” he rasped breathlessly, pulling you urgently back up, crashing his mouth onto yours fiercely. He groaned against your lips, tasting himself, tasting you, the intoxicating blend making him dizzy.

“Goddamn, you taste good, baby,” he murmured breathlessly, forehead pressed tenderly against yours, fingers still threaded possessively into your hair. “I love you, sweetheart—I’ve always fucking loved you.”

Your heart skipped violently at his whispered confession. “You do?”

Rhett laughed softly, tenderly, kissing you again, softer this time, almost reverently. “More than I know what to do with.”

You smiled shyly, your fingertips tracing gentle circles over his chest. “I love you, Rhett. Always have.”

He exhaled, relief flooding his eyes, expression growing boyishly sweet. “Thank fuck for that.”

You laughed quietly, settling comfortably against him, nestled safely in his arms. “Mmm,” you teased lightly, drawing lazy patterns on his chest. “I could get used to this.”

His grin turned mischievous, cocky smirk returning as he pressed a teasing kiss against your forehead. “Oh, you definitely will. I ain’t lettin’ you outta my sight now, darlin’. Especially now that I know what your pretty mouth can do.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, giggling softly. “You’re impossible, Rhett Abbott.”

He chuckled deeply, wrapping his arms around you possessively, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “Oh, but you love it.”

You tilted your head, gazing up into his beautiful blue eyes, heart swelling with affection, softness overwhelming you beneath the starlit sky.

“Yes,” you whispered quietly, truth heavy yet freeing on your lips, “I do.”

Beneath the vast Wyoming stars, Rhett held you tighter, knowing for certain now that everything he'd ever needed—everything he could ever want—was right there, safe in his arms.

[infernalfears]

summary: reader is a teen mom who works in the diner that nat frequents

note: nat would have been such a girl mom i'm so serious

the fluorescent lights of the diner flickered as you wiped down the last table of your shift. your feet ached, and your mind was already racing to the trailer park, to your little world that felt both heavy and precious. you were 19, a single mom to a six-month-old baby girl, courtesy of an ex who’d vanished the moment you told him you were pregnant. life was a grind, but you loved your daughter more than anything, even if it meant saying no to things like... well, like her.

nat leaned against the counter, her leather jacket slung over one shoulder, green eyes tracking your every move with a mix of curiosity and something you couldn’t quite place. she’d been coming in for weeks, ordering black coffee and a slice of pie she barely touched, always finding a way to talk to you. you had become friends at this point, though your conversations had not gone past talking about the customers who’d come in for the day, or what music nat was listening to. tonight, she’d asked you out—point-blank, no hesitation, her voice low and warm like she already knew you’d say yes.

“i can’t,” you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “i’ve got.. stuff at home.”

nat tilted her head, undeterred. “okay, then let me walk you home. just to make sure you’re safe.”

your heart stuttered. you really wanted to say yes to the date—god, who wouldn’t? it was nat for fuck’s sake. but your child was waiting, and your neighbour, mrs. carter, who was currently watching her, was sweet but she was old and could barely make out the time of day sometimes. you hesitated, then nodded. “alright..”

the walk to the trailer park was quiet, the night air cool against your skin. nat didn’t push, just kept pace beside you, her presence steady. when you reached your trailer, a sagging relic of better days, you fumbled with your keys, hyper-aware of her eyes on you. inside, mrs. carter was dozing in a chair, the little baby’s soft coos coming from the crib in the corner. you thanked the old woman, who shuffled out with a sleepy wave.

nat froze in the doorway, her gaze landing on the crib. “you’ve got a kid,” she said, not a question, just a quiet realization.

“yeah.” You braced for judgment, for her to back off like most people did when they learned about it. instead, she stepped closer, peering at the baby with something soft in her expression.

“she’s cute,” nat said, then looked at you. “you’re doing this alone?”

you nodded, throat tight. “her dad’s gone. it’s just us.”

nat didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked around your sparse trailer—the chipped mugs, the secondhand couch, the pile of bills on the counter. then she rolled up her sleeves. “go take a bath. relax. i've got this.”

you blinked. “what?”

“you heard me.” she was already moving her arms into the crib, scooping the little girl up with a gentleness that didn’t match her tough exterior. “go. i’ll watch her.”

you wanted to argue, but exhaustion won out. the bath was heaven, the first moment of peace you’d had in months. when you got out of the bath, hair damp and skin warm, the trailer smelled like garlic and onions. nat was at the stove, your little girl tucked against her shoulder, stirring a pot of pasta with the few ingredients you had left in the cupboard.

“you didn’t have to do this,” you said, voice soft as you reached for your kid so nat could have both of her hands to herself.

nat turned, deftly swerving you, the spoon that was once in her hand clattering to the counter. her now-free hand slid around your waist, pulling you close while still holding the baby in her other hand. “you smell so good,” she murmured, her face burying in your damp hair, her breath warm against your neck.

your heart raced, but it wasn’t just heat—it was gratitude, safety, something you hadn’t felt in forever. you pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, then leaned in, your lips brushing hers in a kiss that was soft, deliberate, not too much but not too little. a thank you.

nat smiled against your mouth, her hand tightening on your waist. “i’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, and you believed her.

[mailedlove]

DEVOTION. pt. 3

pairing: submissive yandere (your insert) × harsh and manipulative reader

content: mentions of light bondage, name calling (ma’am), praising, degradation and humiliation, manipulation, cockstepping, begging, foot humping—fucking, cum licking, usage of toys (vibrator and silicon toy), simple aftercare.

note: PART 1. PART 2. these are the previous parts of this short series! if you want to have a better reading experience, please read them first before proceeding with this one. ps: i will be making a 4th one since i think i made this one too long and felt the need to cut it. TT :: requested by anon!

hearts, comments and reblogs are all appreciated.

the moon was bright, gleaming as you were walking back to your sweet home. you were out in the park, left hand holding the remaining medium-sized pack of cat food while the other has a big bottle of water and cup. feeding strays was your favorite hobby to do but you felt exhausted tonight, so you made up a choice to go home a bit earlier. the route that leads to your village was just a walking distance but you were tired, far too tired that you just made up a decision to just take a cab.

entering your home, you could already feel the sleepiness take over but you remembered a task you still have to do, and that was you needed to check on something. you placed all of your stuff in your living room, washed your hands, and made sure all the doors were locked before proceeding to accomplish what you had to do.

you could already hear the noises coming from your hallway as you walked towards it, eyes focused on the gloomy passage. as you reached the door leading to your basement, you twisted the doorknob, pushing the door gently before seeing the full view of what was in front of you. you entered the said room with a sinister smile that slowly creeped up your face. it was he, the boy you had captured and taken into your home. the boy who had been pestering you mentally. the tiredness left your body as soon as you got to see him better.

it was truly a beautiful sight to see. he was naked, sitting on the floor, chained so that his movements were restricted. his eyes were covered and so was his mouth, the soft fabrics now smeared with tear and saliva marks that’s most probably caused from his pathetic scream and cries.

you walked closer to his figure and knelt down to properly meet his level. after putting yourself in a comfortable position, you then took off his blindfold and mouth cover before breaking the silence, “what a pathetic, little boy you are. you’ve been crying so much, haven’t you? look at those big, sad eyes— oh, and those hickey covered neck— you look like a beat up puppy, ain’t ya, baby?” you said, hand slowly creeping up to touch his neck, and the other to cup his face. he whimpers at the sudden contact, eyes jittering as they tried to make contact with yours.

“l-look..” he said, “i’m sorry for being a pathetic weirdo t-that did nothing but, b—but stalk you, do fucked up things about you and more weird stuff. i p—promise i was only gonna drop those items and go awa—” he suddenly stopped, eyes going wide as he let out a loud scream. you had gotten up step on his cock, so suddenly that he screamed like a little girl.

“now, will that make you shut up?” a scoff left your mouth, lowering yourself down once again. “you know, i was so disappointed that you’d rather spy on me than be a big boy and face me. remember when i said that i expected more from you? you probably don’t cause i knocked you out but, yeah. my mind still hasn’t changed about that.” you added, thumb grazing his cheek with a disappointed look in your eyes. the words that left your mouth made his stomach drop. h—he disappointed you? he wants to be anything but a disappointment to you! you shouldn’t have said that to him— he’ll prove you that he is worthy, that he is good and not a piece of trash.

to fully add more to the effect, you removed your hand that was touching his face and that fuelled more of his desires to be better for you. with hands trembling, he weakly grabs your hand again and placed it back on his face, hands now holding both the back of your palm and your arm. the boy stared at you with pitiful eyes then spoke, “but i’m not bad, r—right? all i did was to protect you, and to keep you safe. please take it back, i’ll prove to you that i’m good ! i’ll do anythin’ you want. i’m sorry, p-please, anything..” he begs with tears in his eyes, mouth stuttering as he tries to properly tell you how he’s sorry, how he’ll be good and do anything, and everything that you want, just so you’ll take back what you said.

“oh you wanna prove to me that you’re a good boy? that you’re my good boy? then that means you’ll do anything i want, ain’t that right?” you bombed him with questions, emphasizing the part where you said my as his eyes sparkled at the thought— your good boy? yes! he’ll do anything of course, it’s you who he’s breathing and serving for, anyway. he’s only living because you also exist. “yes, yes! anything you want me t’do, i’ll do ‘em.” he blurts out, fixing his position to prepare himself on what he has to do. “atta, boy, you said it yourself. you wanna do anything i tell you, right? fuck my foot then, prove yourself to me.” you said blankly as you got up. he was stunned— are you joking or were you serious? he instantly got the answer just by looking at your face, and that is you were actually for real. “what’re you waiting for? get started already.”

“yes, ma’am..” he stutters out. you then loosened the chains that were restricting him, so that he could move a little better. the said boy slowly grabbed the lower part of your leg, positioning himself to your foot. a silent moan left his lips as he started to grind his cock against it, the base of his erection rubbing on the bridge of your foot. the friction he was getting from progressively fucking your foot made him feel lightheaded, thoughts running in his mind about how dumb he probably looks. still, he couldn’t believe he’s actually getting contact with your body, even if it made him look filthy below you. it was fine as long as it’s for you. “hahh— feels good..” he pants, slowly loosing himself, grinding a lot faster in order to get more friction. minutes passed by and everything was drowned out, all except the noises the chains were making because of his rocking movements.

“m’ sorry, so s—sorryy for being a d-dumb lil’ boy, please forgive me—” he’s still moving, but now quicker and more animalistic. random apologies left his mouth, whining out about how he’s sorry for being a disgrace to you, how he is sorry for letting you down. his nonsense went on for a long period, and so was his actions, all while blabbing and degrading himself about how pathetic he is.

“n-need, i need to— hic! i think i’m g—gonna— ah! wai—” his feverish noises and blabbers were finally cut off as he rides off his high, crying with his mouth agape as his cum spurts out his pinky tip. his sticky semen covered your foot, most of it actually. it really was a whole lot of liquid, as if he hasn’t had a proper release for decades. “i only said to hump my foot— not cum on it! bad dog! go clean it up before i get mad.” you shouted at the poor boy attached to your leg.

“i—i’m sorry for not asking for permission to cum..” he apologizes to you. you were literally far from mad, in fact, you were actually getting wet inside your panties just by seeing how well he was obeying you. he really was the perfect pet, just need a little more training, that’s all. “okay, i will clean i-it.” he says, getting off of your foot and bending down to meet it. after bending down to meet its’ level, he then starts to lick his cum off of it. the feeling of his tongue making contact with your foot made a hot feeling enter your stomach. for you, it was so entertaining to see your pet serve below you, all because of one simple command. for him, he didn’t mind the actions that he was doing because it was all to earn your apology, though it was disgusting to taste his own release. once he was done, he stopped and looked up at you, waiting for your next command.

“very well, then. wait for me, i have a surprise for you.” you spoke with an unnoticeable smirk on your lips. he nodded, waiting patiently as you walked out of the door and closed it. you slowly made your way towards your room to grab a vibrator and dildo that you’ve been waiting to use on someone, and lucky for him, he was the chosen one. after getting the toy, you went back quickly towards the hallway, then the basement. “i’m back, good thing you didn’t escape or else i would’ve duck taped you to the headboard of my bed.” you said, laughing slightly at your own words as if he can actually move enough to get up. though for him, it wasn’t a joke since he’d gladly comply with that. “now where was i? oh— i forgot to tell you, close your eyes first before i reveal my surprise.”

“okay, ma’am.” the agreement left his mouth as he closed his eyes, making sure to firmly shut them off. you slowly put upfront the items that were behind your back before poking him to open his eyes. his reaction was priceless as he saw what was infront of him. “surprise! do you like it? i’ve been waiting to use these on someone, and you’re just the perfect one. what are we waiting for? let’s start, shall we?” you slowly lifted your index finger, signaling him to arch his lower body upward, so that you can place the dildo on the floor below him. after placing the silicon toy, you guided him to sit back so that it can enter his hole, all with no preparation. good thing he was already stretched out from all the numerous times he was fucking himself, lonely whilst thinking about your body. a loud moan slipped out his lips as he finally sunk down all the way, taking all parts of the toy. you were about to order him to start moving but he was far too horny, so he wasted no time to bounced on it, not waiting for your signal.

“this guy is a fucking slut..” you couldn’t help but mumble to yourself as you stared at the weirdo.

“ah! ah! i-i feel s’goodd— thank you! than’ you! a-and s-shorrry for— for not w-waiting.. hah! ” he babbles out to you, bouncing erratically on the toy that was penetrating the insides of his ass. “m-mhm! w—wha—” he stammers as he was caught off guard when you suddenly placed the vibrator on the tip of his dick. your spontaneous move made him start to fucking scream-whine. his body was squirming, hands rapidly trying to find something that he could hold onto for support, as the pleasure was getting too much for him. his pink tip started to seep out tiny amounts of white liquid as the toy vibrated. but you didn’t stop, instead, you put the toy on the highest setting. you also guided him to hop harder like a bunny and held both his fists out to even look more like the animal. by this time, he was already gone, mind too blank that all that left his mouth was noises of thank you’s! so full’s! g-good’s! and many more, just from pure pleasure. it took him 2 times to cum till he finally passed out from tiredness.

in the end, he was knocked out with his body weirdly positioned on the floor. you cooed at his sleeping figure before scooting closer to him and carrying him up so you could bring him to your room. you cleansed him slightly with the use of a damp towel, and other objects that could clean him without the use of a proper shower, since he wouldn’t wake up even after being shaken for minutes. you finally tucked him in so he could sleep, so he could also mentally prepare himself for what was to come the next day, and every single day from now on. in your mind, this is only the beginning of his journey into becoming, and being shaped to an obedient dog.

[haiwii]

୨ৎ ─── GET YOU

✎ᝰ .ᐟ Enhypen as your bf headcanon

HEESEUNG | JAY | JAKE | SUNGHOON | SUNOO | JUNGWON | RIKI

[ ✧ CW ✧ ] fluff, chaos, and a man deeply down bad, g!n reader (?) I don’t think the gender is specified

LiBRARY ## HEAD.c

This was so fun to write 😭

🧃 The Chill-Turned-Down-Bad Start

When you first met, you thought he was that calm, mysterious boy who probably journals about the meaning of life and listens to lo-fi jazz in his room with LED lights. And yeah… you were right. For like, two weeks. Then he accidentally tripped over your bag, did a dramatic “I HAVE FALLEN FOR YOU” on the floor, and you saw a glimpse of the idiot within. From then on, it was game over. He decided you were the one. He told Jay this with complete confidence while wearing Pikachu socks and a mouth full of Pocky.

🍜 Dates With Heeseung Be Like

Think: 50% actual romance, 50% utter chaos. Candlelit dinner? Sure. But he will dramatically say, “This reminds me of our wedding.” (You’re literally in your 20s and eating at Olive Garden.) Movie nights are sweet until he starts reciting the lines with the characters. Or worse guessing them and getting it right. Every. Single. Time. He makes you ramen and tells you he “poured his soul” into it. It’s literally instant ramen, but it’s somehow… better? Heeseung magic.

📱Texting Heeseung: A Horror Story

Sends you 47 memes a day. 38 of them are about ducks. You still don’t know why. You stopped asking after the duck dream he had that “changed his life.” “Good morning, my love 😚💗🌞🌸🌼🐥🐣🌸💗💞💘💓” Sent. At. 4. A.M. He has a very cursed notes app where he keeps nicknames for you. It includes: "My Little Toaster Strudel" "Cuddle Goblin" "The CEO of My Heart, LLC"

🎮 Gamer Boyfriend Heeseung

Yes, he games. Yes, he’s cracked. Yes, he forces you to play co-op games so he can “protect you.” Yells “I GOT YOU BABE” before running into a trap and dying instantly. But if anyone says anything remotely rude to you in chat? He becomes Satan. Voice lowers. Words sharp. You’ve never seen an online user get verbally destroyed so fast. He lets you win sometimes but pretends you beat him fair and square. Then gets revenge in Mario Kart. Mercilessly.

🐥 Love Language? Annoying the Hell Out of You

He pokes your cheek until you give him attention. Whispers “I love you” in the creepiest voice possible while you’re brushing your teeth. Starts fake arguments just to hear your annoyed voice. “No but like—why would you pick Charmander over Bulbasaur??” Steals your clothes. All of them. He looks better in your hoodie than you. It’s unfair.

🧸 But Also… A Secret Softie

Tells you he loves you like 16 times a day, casually. “Love you. Bye. Also bring me banana milk.” Has a folder in his phone of your candid pics. He labeled it “Proof I Scored.” You found it and almost cried because he literally labeled each photo. Stuff like: “Her smile when I said she’s my favorite person” “When she saw the puppy at the park” “The day she said she likes me more than ramen 😭” Whenever you’re sad, he drops everything. EVERYTHING. Even if he’s in the middle of gaming, he’s like: “Nope. Pause. My girl’s upset. Priorities.”

🛏️ Late-Night Chaos & Comfort

Lying in bed at night is either: You cuddling in silence while he plays with your hair and whispers sweet things like “I’m glad you exist.” Or you two laughing so hard at a dumb inside joke that you accidentally wake up the neighbors. Heeseung will tuck you in and say, “Good night, love of my life, mother of our imaginary dog, the moon to my star—” “Heeseung, shut up.” “Okay. But I still love you more than cheese.”

👨‍🍳 Domestic Heeseung Is Real

He can cook. Not like a chef, but enough to make your heart go boom. Tries to bake cookies but forgets the sugar. You eat them anyway. Wears matching aprons with you. Posts it on the group chat. Sunghoon leaves immediately. Jake sends 🧎 emojis. Does your laundry sometimes but gets distracted halfway through because he found an old shirt of yours that “smells like heaven.”

🎤 Idol Things + You

If you show up at a fansign? He breaks character IMMEDIATELY. The staff is like ??? while he beams at you like a puppy. Will 100% write your initials on his setlist or sneak a reference to your favorite color into his outfit. Fans catch on. You get a fanbase too. During live streams: “Who’s your favorite person?” “Oh, Y/N. Easy.” Silence. Confused blinks. “Wait, I mean—uh—my mom?” Too late. Twitter is exploding.

💌 TL;DR:

Heeseung as your boyfriend is the perfect mix of sweet, soft, and absolutely unhinged. He’s the type who would give you the last bite of his ramen and pretend he didn’t cry watching a Pixar movie. He’s clingy in the most adorable way, makes you laugh until your stomach hurts, and genuinely, without a single doubt, loves you like you’re his entire world. Even if he does send you 3 a.m. memes about ducks.

[demie90s]

One Chance - 2

Olivia Miles x Fem!Reader

MASTERLIST | MORE | Part 1

Summary: You're a problem. Olivia's problem. At least that what she tells herself.

Warnings: MAD CUTE Strong language, teasing, emotional confusion, slow-burn kiss

Genre: Friends to lovers, emotional tension, flirtatious chaos Warnings: Strong language, teasing, emotional confusion, slow-burn kiss

Word Count: ~ 4.2k

Olivia stayed live for another five minutes.

And for that entire five minutes, I sat there in the mall food court with her in my lap, hand still under her hoodie, thumb rubbing slow on her stomach like this was our anniversary picnic and not just a random Saturday afternoon.

She tried to keep talking to her chat—tried to act like I wasn’t still holding her like a baby mama who just posted a TikTok with the “That’s mine.” audio—but her voice kept hitching every time I adjusted beneath her. I wasn’t even doing anything wild. Just… existing. Touching. Breathing. Being too damn close.

Her jaw was tight. Phone low in her hand. And I knew she could feel me smiling against her shoulder.

Eventually she sighed, long and defeated, and muttered, “Aight. I’m finna hop off.”

The comments blew up before she even clicked off.

“she leaving cause the touchy wife back at it again”

“it’s that stomach rub LMFAOOO she folding”

“bless this lesbian household”

The live cut off. And still, she didn’t get up.

She just sat there in my lap for a second longer, breathing quiet, body soft and still. I didn’t say anything. I just kissed the back of her shoulder real light, then gave her a little tap on the thigh.

“Ready?” I asked, like we were married and about to go buy curtains.

She groaned. “Why do you talk to me like we married?”

“Cause you don’t correct me.”

Once we were back on our feet, the team had split up even more. Some girls were across the mall by the shoe section, others still eating or taking mirror selfies by the escalators. Olivia started walking toward the stores again like she had a purpose.

I was on full bullshit mode. She was mid-scroll on her phone when I caught up behind her, arms wide, eyes lit up like I was in a damn TikTok skit.

“Baaaaby,” I called, voice goofy and dramatic, drawing out the vowels.

She flinched, already annoyed. “No.”

I ignored her and wrapped my arms around her from behind in the exact broke boyfriend stance. Chin on her shoulder, arms under her arms, gripping her around the stomach like she just bought me McDonald’s and I was trying to stay in the apartment.

“Why you walkin’ so fast?” I mumbled into her hoodie. “You tryna leave me?”

She sighed so loud a woman at the next kiosk looked up. “Girl,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Get. Off.”

I obeyed. Let go, stepped back dramatically like she just stabbed me in the chest. “Damn,” I said, clutching my heart. “That’s how you treat your man in public?”

“I don’t have a man”

“You don’t got me?”

She turned and gave me a look. One of those half-lidded stares like she didn’t know whether to slap me or admit I was right. So I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Quick. Soft. Nothing crazy.

And then I was back at her side, trailing just a step behind like a bad kid in a grocery store who kept knocking stuff over and pretending it wasn’t me.

She didn’t tell me to leave again.

We made it to a store with hoodies and sweatpants and that weird unisex streetwear section that all mall stores have. Olivia started flipping through the racks, real focused, real calm, fingers brushing over tags like she actually needed new clothes. I followed right behind her, pretending to look, but mostly just watching her.

She had her hood halfway up, sleeves tugged low over her knuckles, and still looked like somebody who didn’t need anyone. But that’s exactly why I liked her.

She didn’t need me. But she let me stick around anyway.

I came up behind her again—this time slower, quieter. Slid my arms around her waist from behind, just like before, but smoother now. Natural. My hands disappeared under her hoodie again, palms flat against her stomach, thumbs pressing gently against the curve just above her waistband.

It wasn’t a thing. It just was. Olivia didn’t move. Didn’t push me off.

She just glanced down at my hands, then at the hoodie she was holding, then kept flipping through like this was normal.

“Wanna try it on?” I asked, chin resting on her shoulder again. “I’ll buy it.”

“I can buy my own clothes,” she muttered, shifting slightly against me.

“I know you can,” I said, smiling. “But I want to.”

She paused for a second. “Why?”

I shrugged against her. “Cause I like seeing you in shit I paid for. Makes me feel special.”

She shook her head, but it wasn’t in annoyance this time. She was hiding a smile.

“I been like this for two years, Liv,” I whispered, still close. “You just now noticing?”

She didn’t answer. But she leaned back into me. Just a little. And I knew what that meant.

I was already sitting outside the fitting rooms like somebody’s boyfriend with too much time and not enough shame.

Legs spread. Elbows on my knees. Slurping the last bit of smoothie from my cup with a straw bent like I stole it from a movie theater. I looked like I was waiting for my wife to come out so I could take her to dinner. And in my head? I was.

Olivia had finally let me buy her something. A black zip-up hoodie with this clean white detail down the arms and matching sweats. I didn’t even blink at the price. Told her “go try it on, baby” and smacked her ass in spirit as she walked away. She didn’t look back, but she definitely heard me call her “baby.”

So now I was outside the fitting room, alone, waiting. And I was plotting.

Because I knew she’d look good. I knew it. Olivia could put on a trash bag and still look like somebody’s fine ex who ruined their life in high school. But this? This was about presentation. She was mine—spiritually—and I needed the world to know.

When the curtain finally moved and she stepped out?

It was over for me.

She had the hoodie half-zipped, sleeves pushed up, sweatpants sitting just right on her hips. Her edges were laid, her chain was catching the light, and her expression was that usual half-annoyed squint like she couldn’t believe she was humoring me.

I lost it.

“OOOOHHHHHHH!!!” I hollered, shooting up from my chair so hard it slid back.

People turned. Shoppers paused. A mom by the jeans section glanced over like she was about to cover her child’s eyes. I didn’t give a single damn.

“Y’ALL LOOK AT MY BABY!” I called out, arms wide, hype level 9000. “LOOK AT HER! OUUUU!!”

Olivia’s mouth fell open in horror. “Stop.”

“NO, NO, NO. Don’t cover your face, girl, LET THEM SEE! SHE’S A BLESSING!”

She grabbed my arm, hissing through her teeth. “Why are you like this?”

“Because I’m proud,” I said, voice still booming. “Turn around, lemme see the back. LEMME SEE THE BACK.”

She yanked me inside the fitting room area so fast I nearly tripped over my own damn shoes. The curtain closed behind us and she backed me into the wall, both hands gripping my shoulders like she was holding me hostage.

“You are so embarrassing.”

“You are so fine.”

“People were staring.”

“I hope they took notes,” I said, unbothered. “They just witnessed greatness.”

She glared at me. Close. Real close. Her cheeks were pink. Her hoodie looked good.

I smirked. “You blushing?”

“No.”

“Then why you matching the fitting room wall?”

She groaned and pressed her forehead to my chest for one second. Just one. Like she needed to reset. And I didn’t say anything. I just wrapped my arms around her back and hummed into her hair like I’d been doing this for years.

“You staying in it?” I asked softly. She didn’t answer right away.

“Yeah. I like it.”

“You want the receipt in your name or mine?”

She pulled back just enough to look up at me. “Yours.”

I nodded, satisfied. “Yeah. Thought so.”

The ride back to the hotel was calm. Music low. Sky getting darker, blue melting into soft orange like the day was winding down just for us.

I was driving, one hand on the wheel, hoodie sleeves rolled halfway up, nails tapping against the steering column every time the beat dropped. Olivia was in the passenger seat, stretched out, arms crossed, head leaned slightly toward the window like she wasn’t tired—just thinking. She always got like that when the sun started to fade. Quiet. Still.

We didn’t talk for the first ten minutes. Didn’t have to.

I’d been doing the most all day. Teasing. Touching. Smiling like I was in love with her—which, let’s be real, I was. Had been. Ever since she looked me dead in my face two years ago and told me I was “too loud” for her taste. Like I wasn’t exactly what she needed.

I licked my lips, glancing over at her profile. Her hoodie was zipped up halfway now, the one I bought her, and the chain around her neck caught just a little bit of light from the streetlamps outside. She looked good. She always did. But tonight, she looked… soft.

Like she didn’t wanna fight no more. So I cleared my throat, real casual, eyes still on the road.

“…You ever gon’ say yes?”

She looked over, slow. “To what?”

“To me.” The silence in the car shifted. Like the air changed shape.

“I mean,” I went on, voice still low, like I hadn’t just said the most important shit all week, “I like you. But that ain’t new.” Olivia didn’t say anything. Not right away.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. “I know I play a lot. Joke around. But I’m not fake about how I feel. Never been.”

Still nothing. I glanced over again. She was looking straight ahead now. Eyes locked on the road. Jaw tight. But not mad. Just… thinking. Fighting something.

“I be all over you ‘cause I wanna be,” I said, softer. “Not just ‘cause it’s funny.”

She let out a breath through her nose. “You asking me out while you driving?”

“Is that a bad time?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s just… you act like we already together.”

“Cause in my head, we been together since you let me fall asleep on your lap Junior year and didn’t push me off.”

She cracked a smile. Barely. I smiled too, eyes flicking between the road and her face.

“I just want to hear you say it,” I added. “You already let me act like your girl. Let me hold you, spoil you, flirt with you in front of everybody. You don’t stop me.”

“I don’t stop you,” she repeated quietly.

“You don’t want to stop me.”

She didn’t answer that. But she reached over and turned the volume down on the music. Then she looked at me. And for the first time in a minute, she wasn’t annoyed. She wasn’t playing it off. She was just… there. Real.

“I don’t know how to say yes to you when you never ask normal.”

I nodded once, letting it sit. Then I pulled up to the hotel parking lot, cut the engine, and turned to her completely.

“Aight,” I said, eyes locked on hers. “So I’m asking normal.”

“You are?”

I licked my lips. “Yeah.” Beat.

“You mine?” She looked at me for a long time. Then she nodded.

“Yeah.” Just like that. I just reached for her hand and held it. She let me.

By the time we got back to the room, the vibe had shifted just a little.

Not much. I was still me—loud, annoying, touchy. But there was something different in the way I leaned against the bathroom door while she did her night routine. The way I watched her move. The way I kept smiling to myself like I had a secret.

Because now? She said yes. And I hadn’t shut up since.

She was at the sink, hoodie off, tank top clinging to her back, her little travel toiletry kit lined up with military precision on the edge of the counter. Toothbrush in her mouth, head slightly bobbing to the soft music I had playing off my phone.

Meanwhile, I was in the middle of the room getting down.

I was talking full “Back in my day” energy—knees bent, back hunched, hips swinging. I had my socks pulled up, my shirt rolled a little at the waist, moving like I was about to cook ribs on a homemade grill made from a shopping cart.

“You don’t know nothin’ ‘bout this here!” I said, shoulders jerking, doing a full two-step in the middle of the hotel carpet. Olivia spit her toothpaste out mid-eye roll.

“You are so embarrassing,” she mumbled through her laugh.

“You lucky I don’t got no damn cane,” I replied, spinning into a half-body twerk with my back to her. “’Cause I’d be jittin’ all around this damn room. Get me some church socks and a Bluetooth speaker and it’s over.”

She wiped her mouth with a towel, completely unbothered, like she hadn’t just agreed to be my girl thirty minutes ago.

I kept going. “Lissen here now, youngblood,” I said, switching my voice to old-man smooth, knees still popping. “When you get you a fine lil lady like this one—don’t play wit it! Hold her! Pay her bills! Rub her back like you got arthritis!”

Olivia walked straight past me like I was invisible. Didn’t say a word. So naturally, I followed.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled out her lotion like this was routine. Like I hadn’t been doing a private family cookout concert.

I dropped to the floor in front of her, slid between her knees like I was about to propose, and started rubbing her shins.

She blinked down at me, all dry and blank-faced. “What are you doing now?”

“Caring for my wife,” I said, real soft. “She works hard. She got pretty knees. She needs pampering.”

She laughed into her hand and shook her head. “You are so dumb.”

“And yet,” I said, climbing up to my knees and kissing her leg, “you said yes.”

She just stared at me. Didn’t say anything. But the corners of her mouth betrayed her. That slow, reluctant smirk. That gleam in her eyes she tried to keep under wraps. That little hum in her throat like I was her peace even when I was chaos.

She stood up and walked over to the mirror, picking up her scarf to tie down her hair. I followed. Of course I followed.

Wrapped my arms around her waist from behind, slid my hands right under her shirt again, resting flat against her stomach. No hesitation. No asking. Like I always did.

Except now?Now she leaned back into it.Head tilted against mine. Arms resting over mine like she’d been waiting too.

We stood there a second. Just breathing. Then I mumbled into her ear, “You know you lucky I ain’t bring my Bluetooth speaker.” She groaned. I started swaying again—slow, deep, full-body soul movement.

She covered her face with one hand and whispered, “Lord, what did I sign up for.”

I kissed her temple and grinned. “Forever.”

Lights were off. Hotel room quiet. Phones on chargers. Teeth brushed. Liv was already leaning against the headboard, pillow behind her back, legs stretched out under the blanket like she was winding down for real.

I was laying across the bed sideways, legs dangling off the side, talking my ass off like I’d just discovered I had vocal cords.

“You don’t even know,” I said for the fifteenth time, voice loud in the dark, hands moving like I was preaching. “Like girl. GIRL. I was down bad for you. I’m talkin’ praying-on-the-low bad. I used to go to the locker room like ‘Lord, give me strength. Don’t let me embarrass myself today.’”

Liv exhaled through her nose. Didn’t even open her eyes.

“You still embarrassing yourself,” she muttered.

“And yet you mine now,” I shot back, grinning.

She just shook her head. Didn’t deny it though.

I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling, arms spread wide like I was catching Holy Ghost. “I mean, you so fine… I was this close to fainting everyday. Like girl, woo—you’d walk past with them long ass legs and that lil frown on your face and I’d be like, ‘Yup. That’s my wife. She just don’t know yet.’”

She snorted. Quiet. But I caught it.

“And don’t get me started on that attitude,” I added, leaning up onto my elbows like it was getting good now. “Oh my Goddd. That little ‘don’t touch me’ thing? That mean mug? That ‘why you always talkin’?’ vibe you give off? Baby. That was my fuel. That kept me going.”

She finally cracked one eye open and turned her head toward me.

“You done?”

I grinned. “Not even close.”

She groaned and slid down into the bed, turning onto her side, pulling the blanket higher like she could hide from me.

“Go to sleep,” she mumbled.

“…Can I at least kiss you?”

She froze. Just a second. Barely long enough to catch.

“What?”

I sat up slow, voice real sweet now. “I said… can I kiss you, girl? I been waiting.” She rolled over to face me, squinting like I had just asked to borrow her social security number.

“Now?” she asked, suspicious.

But before she could blink again, I was already there.

Leaning in. Real smooth. Eyes half-lidded, lips barely parted. I caught her lips before she could finish her breath. Slow. Soft. Nothing wild—just… full. The kind of kiss that holds every joke and every feeling and every “I told you I’d wait.”

Her hand came up and gripped my hoodie lightly, like she didn’t mean to. Like her body said yes before she did.

And right when it started to feel like something, I ruined it.

“Mhm… mhm…” I whispered into her mouth, eyes still closed. “Girl the things you got me thinking…”

“You ruined it.”She pulled back with a groan, eyes rolling.

“No, I spiced it,” I said, grinning wide as hell.

“Get in the bed,” she muttered, turning over again, pulling the blanket up to her nose like she was done with me.

I climbed in right behind her, no hesitation. Threw my arm around her waist, my leg over hers, buried my face in the back of her neck like it was my damn pillow.

“I ain’t never lettin’ go,” I mumbled.

“You don’t shut up,” she whispered back, voice low but not angry.

I kissed the shell of her ear, real soft.

“I love you though.” She didn’t respond. Just reached down and pulled my hand tighter around her belly. And we fell asleep just like that.

The tunnel was buzzing with game energy—squeaks of sneakers, coaches barking instructions, the faint echo of hype music from the arena. I was pacing slow, bouncing my ball, hoodie half-zipped, focused but chill. Trying to lock in. Trying to act like today was just another game and not my first official game with Olivia as my girl.

She was standing off to the side, hoodie on, headphones around her neck, doing that thing where she rubs her wrist with her thumb while thinking. She looked so calm. Like she always did before the chaos.

I walked over, gave her a little bump with my shoulder. “You ready, baby?”

She looked at me, slow. “You ready?”

“Been ready since you said yes.” She just smiled. Barely. Then—without warning—she leaned in and kissed me. Real quick. Real soft. Right on the lips. I gasped so loud the trainer turned around.

My knees buckled. My back hit the wall behind me. I slid down the concrete like a 1950s jazz widow, hand over my chest like she shot me. “OH my God.” She just looked down at me, shaking her head.

Coach walked past, barely blinking. “At least y’all getting along now. Miles, don’t break her.”

The whole squad was cracking up. I was still on the floor. Palm to my forehead. “Y’all she kissed me… like with her mouth.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” Liv muttered, walking off toward the court.

⸻

We won. Blew ‘em out by 18.

Olivia dropped 16 and 7. I hit three threes in the third quarter alone. And I swear every time she subbed out and sat on the bench, she looked at me like yeah, that’s mine now. She never said it. But I felt it.

Postgame locker room was loud. Everybody hyped. Music playing. Coach already out. I was bouncing around in my slides, talking trash, hugging teammates, hair wild.

And then I spotted her. Across the room. Calm as always, unwrapping tape from her wrists, jersey halfway off. Skin glowing. Eyes half-lidded. My girl.

So I walked right over. Grabbed her face with both hands. And kissed her. Full. Mouth open. Right there.

She flinched, but didn’t pull away. Just grabbed my waist like she had to hold me up. Which she did—because the second our lips broke, I collapsed again.

Back to the damn floor. Sliding down the lockers like someone unplugged my spirit.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, fanning myself. “This is my villain origin story. I’m ruined.”

The team lost it. Screaming. Wheezing. Phones out.

“MILES got her in a chokehold,” someone shouted.

“Yo they’re so unserious,” another laughed. “You good, bro?!”

Olivia just stood over me, one hand on her hip, the other holding her water bottle like she was so done.

“Alright now,” she said, deadpan. “You got your kiss. Get up.”

I reached for her hand. “I need emotional support.”

“You need a nap.”

She pulled me up anyway. And didn’t let go.

The hotel room was warm, quiet, and still humming with the soft leftover energy of a perfect day.

We’d won. Played our hearts out. I dropped buckets, Liv did what she always does—control the court like it was hers and make the whole game look easy. We came back to the hotel, showered, ate, didn’t even bother with music or phones. Just us now. Clean, tired, glowing. Full of the kind of joy that doesn’t even make noise.

Liv was already in bed when I came out the bathroom. Sitting up against the headboard in a dark hoodie and shorts, bonnet on, legs stretched under the blanket, scrolling slow on her phone like her day hadn’t just been insane.

I stood there for a second, looking at her from across the room. That was mine.

The realization hit me again like it always did—soft, dizzy, heavy in the chest. Olivia Miles, with her smart mouth and long lashes and shoulders that made hoodies look sinful, was mine now.

I padded over in fuzzy socks, climbed onto the bed like it was a jungle gym, and flopped across her lap before she could say a word.

“Jesus Christ,” she mumbled, locking her phone and catching me mid-fall.

“I missed you,” I whispered into her stomach.

“You were literally gone for five minutes.”

“Felt like years,” I groaned dramatically, face buried into the fabric of her hoodie. “I thought I was gonna die.”

“You’re so—”

“In love?” I looked up at her with full, sparkly eyes. “I know. It’s exhausting.”

She exhaled, head falling back against the wall. But she was smiling.

I climbed higher into her lap like a climbing vine, legs straddling hers, arms thrown dramatically around her neck, chest to chest now. I kissed her cheek once. Then again. Then her jaw. Then the corner of her mouth. Then her nose.

“Stop,” she muttered, but her hands were already on my hips, grounding me. I kissed her mouth for real. She melted just a little.

“You’re gonna suffocate me,” she whispered against my lips.

“You’re gonna like it.”

She shook her head, laughing quietly. “Oh Lord.”

I kissed her again before she could say more. A slow, playful one—mouth barely open, lips pressed just long enough to make her sigh again.

“This weekend’s been perfect,” I said softly, kissing the corner of her mouth again. “Like… stupid perfect. You don’t even know how down bad I am right now.”

“You don’t say,” she deadpanned, tilting her head as I kissed her collarbone through the hoodie.

“I love you like… like women love wine and warm socks and movies where the dog doesn’t die. I’m talking deep.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

I pulled back, cupped her cheeks with both hands like she was the last warm thing in the world. “I’m so in love with you it’s honestly a public safety hazard.”

She stared at me for a long second. Her eyes were soft, the kind of soft that made my throat ache. She didn’t say anything. Just tucked one arm around my back, the other sliding up to rest between my shoulder blades, like she needed to hold me in place.

“I should be asleep,” she said, but her voice was so quiet I could barely hear it.

“You can sleep. I’ll kiss you in your dreams.”

“God,” she groaned, and buried her face into my neck.

I laughed and curled around her tighter. One arm wrapping beneath her, one leg slung over hers, like I was trying to fuse into her bones.

“I love you,” I said again. For no reason. Just because I wanted to.

She didn’t say it back—not out loud.

But her arms pulled me tighter. One hand rubbed slow circles against the small of my back. Her nose brushed the edge of my jaw like she was inhaling me.

And I fell asleep in the crook of her body—content, wrapped around her like gravity, whispering “just one more kiss” every time she tried to shift.

She let me stay. Because she loved me, too. Even if she never said it the way I did.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog

[just-nc-tea]

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ᛪ༙ SACRIFICE (EAT ME UP)

You were supposed to die. It would have been so much easier just to die. But it chose you before you could do so. Picked your weak body to anchor itself in. Making you one tether between the human realm and the shadows clawing at its edges. Alive purely to keep the balance, to stop a war no one saw coming. Vampires, witches and werewolves all try to use your magic to prepare themselves. They watch you. Train you. Use you. But your powers aren’t gifted and can't be used and abused. They’re given to keep the world from burning, even if it means burning you and everyone you love in the process.

ᝰ word count. 4.1 k .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ genre. fantasy, supernatural, slowburn!!!, Vampire!Sunghoon x supernatural!Y/N, Werewolf!Nicholas x supernatural!Y/N, ANGST, fluff, Friends to Lovers? Enemies to Lovers? .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warnings.character death, violence, blood, gore (more will be added during the writing process) .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ disclaimer. heavily inspired by &Teams and Enhypens lore, the vampire diaries, city of bones, supernatural and numerous fanfictions i have read over the years

ᝰ an. The first chapter and this teaser a more an introduction than anything, it might feel a bit slow in the beginning, but its picking up pace soon! I promise! I also just really needed a second love interest so that "enemy" Sunghoon can turn into lover Sunghoon. Updates might come slowly, but they will come! (also yes i already posted the teaser but i had to work over stuff again so the release date pushed back a bit. ₊ ⊹   ⤷ series masterlist

It’s weird, being a passenger in your own body from time to time. Feeling your feet move, your hands gesture, your head turn, not being able to blink on your own, caged in only with your thoughts. 

You sometimes wondered if this was how people in a coma felt. 

Unable to do anything. 

You felt the leaves brushing against your naked skin, the cold breeze that made your body shiver, the uneven pathway underneath your feet. 

At least it remembered to put on shoes. When it took over the last time your feet were bleeding at the end of the night. 

It ran through the woods behind the small brook in your hometown, searching for something. You weren’t entirely sure what it was searching for. 

There wasn’t much in the woods; a few stray wolves had claimed it as their territory, so humans mostly stayed clear of it. 

Your body stopped in front of a small pond. The bright light of the moon was softly reflecting off the surface, soft ripples causing it to reflect like small sparks of glitter. 

It took a step towards the water, kneeling down and softly touching it with your fingers. It was cold, and your body shivered. It made a pleased sound and plunged your whole arm into the water, the cold engulfing your limb. 

It hurt. 

It was around the freezing point outside, the middle of January. You wanted to instinctively pull your arm backwards, but the creature just tutted and put your second arm into the water. 

A sudden noise made your head shoot upwards. A wolf was staring at you from the opposite end of the pond, growling. Its white fur was tainted with blood at the snout. 

The creature just cocked your head to the side. Tingles of pure power ran through your veins. You couldn't see your arms while it was staring at the wolf, but you knew your fingers were starting to taint black, your veins turning a dark shade. You hated it when it did that. Whenever it did whatever it was doing right now, you felt awful the next day. 

The wolf growled even louder, and you heard more footsteps hurtling through the woods, probably the rest of its clan or whatever it was called. Pack? You weren’t sure. 

If it were only you in the woods right now, you would be shaking in fear, your heart hammering almost through your chest, but you knew it would never let anything hurt you. You were too precious. Or well, your body was. 

A few years ago, it broke into one of the crypts in the graveyard, the Lee crypt, as you learned when you returned a few days later to assess the damage it or you left behind. In there, it stole a few old, torn-up books, the pages being yellow and almost crumbling under your touch when you started flipping through them. 

Virethar, that’s its name. Or at least its race? You weren't sure if the creature had a name on its own or not. So you just named it Creature. It's a veil-keeper, it's not bad or good per se, it just simply is. It existed to preserve the boundary between the human world and the supernatural world.

You learned that day that they were true; all the stories you were told as a kid were true. Vampires, demons, werewolves, warlocks, they all existed and lived among humans, even sometimes mixing with your kind, or what you would call your kind. You weren’t even sure if you were still human.

The creature made you read hours upon hours that night. Repeatedly reading over passages that were apparently important before continuing. His and somehow also now your job was to ​​make sure no supernatural force overwhelms or exploits the human realm, and that no human meddles too far into forbidden knowledge or magic.

It taught you that a Virethar does not seek power or worship. It rarely spoke, only if necessary, to not blow its cover whenever your mother or father would catch you being awake or outside in the middle of the night. They were thinking you were sleepwalking. Somehow, you were. 

The creature preferred to appear or take over during the dark hours of the night. Your parents started locking all doors and even put a fence around their precious garden to keep your body from wandering around during the night.

That didn’t stop the creature. 

According to the book, it can walk between realms. It can appear and disappear from shadows or reflections and travel through the dark. The first time it happened, your body felt like it was ripped to shreds when it started to disappear into the shadows, and for a split second, you took control of your body and screamed. The Virethar took control back, and you were suddenly not in front of the tall fence anymore, but lying in your bed, panting and whitering in pain. 

The creature spent the next few nights teaching you how to travel through the shadows. Those nights were the only times you actually heard it speak. A dark growl, almost a gargle. You couldn’t remember much of those nights aside from how to actually do it, and you assumed it just rearranged your memories slightly. Virethars are able to read and rearrange memories to remove traces of forbidden knowledge. In your case, it was most likely the memories of the searing pain you were in. Your parents thought you were just sick when you had fevers during the daytime. The Virethar stood in one of the corners of your room, watching over you while you used the day as well to train to shadow travel. It can hold up a physical appearance for a limited timeframe, feeding of chaos around it. You weren’t really sure what that meant, but your neighbour's dog was never as friendly as it was during those few days. You suspected Bruno's sudden death was in direct correlation to the creature watching you. 

The wolf was still staring at you, and you felt the Virethar pulling your lips into what probably resembled a smile, moving your arm, and reaching towards the wolf. The bright moonlight seemed to dim down as it unleashed a black fog from your fingertips. The wolf's eyes opened in what looked like shock or fear, and it yelped, turning around and running before the darkness could reach it. The Virethar chuckled in your body and slowly stood up from where it was crouched on the floor. It made instances to step into the water but stopped when you yelped, or well, thought: “No! Don’t let the Pyjama get wet, you will freeze when you get out!”

It just nodded and started to undress, leaving you only in your underwear, before stepping into the water. 

Even the creature hesitated after it took the first step. The cold made your feet almost freeze up the second it was plunged into the water. But after a few seconds, it seeimngly changed its mind and your body walked into the pond. It didn’t stop walking even when the water got too deep for you to stand, taking a deep breath and continuing underwater. You started to panic slightly, yes, it might be able to control the shadows, but did it remember you needed to breathe? 

“Calm.” The voice grumbled through your mind, and you just yelped again at the intrusion. Hearing its voice reverberating in the space that was usually only yours was a weird sensation, and if you were in control of your body, you would have gulped in fear. 

The creature suddenly moved your arms and swam back to the surface, taking a deep breath when it reached the air again. 

It slightly turned your head, locking eyes at a rock and swimming towards it. The texture of the rock was rough, and when it pulled your body onto you felt how your hands, knees, and feet were sliced open, but the creature didn’t let itself be deterred by that. 

When it sat on top of the rock, it took a deep breath and closed your eyes. But instead of darkness, you saw everything. 

Everything around you, as if you were running through the woods at high speed. 

You realized what it was doing. It was searching for whatever it had been trying to find for the last couple of weeks. 

It stopped for a second when it saw the wolf again. The wolf was running, its white fur reflecting in the bright light of the moon, and as if it realized it was being watched, it stopped suddenly, turning around. The creature stopped as well, and whatever form it was traveling in right now crouched down to look into the wolf's eyes. 

You could feel the subtle tension in your mind, a sharp vibration humming through your head. The wolf froze as if its very instincts buckled beneath the weight of the gaze. A thick tendril of black mist leaked from the creature, or whatever form Virethar was in right now, and slithered across the ground toward the wolf.

The wolf didn’t move. Its breath grew shallow. Its eyes went glassy, hollowing out for a heartbeat too long. 

Then it exhaled calmly, its stance relaxed, and its growl faded into a quiet whine. The darkness slithered back, dissolving.

It turned and ran. And the creature followed.

It sprinted after the wolf, moving through the shadow, deeper into the forest until the trees grew thicker. They stopped before an old mansion, with rotting wood, ivy-strangled windows, and iron gates.

Then. Nothing.

Darkness swallowed the connection.

You woke up with a sharp inhale, the kind that burns.

Air teared into your lungs like ice water, and you jerked slightly, your body stiff and uncooperative. Your cheek was pressed against the slick stone, skin numb where it touched the freezing surface. The water lapped  gently at your legs, a slow rhythm that only makes the cold worse.

You tried to move, but your body was unresponsive. It is almost like when Virethar took over, but you were almost a hundred percent sure you were in charge right now.

You tried again, your fingers twitched , barely, but the rest of you is too heavy. 

Where was it?

You searched inward, mentally reaching through that place in your mind where it always waited. But there’s nothing.

Not quiet.

Not stillness.

Just absence.

Your breath caught in your throat and came out in a ragged, hoarse gasp.

No, no, no –

He would never leave you here. He chose you. You barely remember life before him. If he ever wanted to leave, he had years. Why would he do it now, leaving you in the freezing water, your body slowly going numb.

You tried to lift your head. It lolled slightly, then dropped back down with a dull thud. 

You couldn’t feel your legs.

Virethar!, you called inside yourself. Or maybe out loud. 

Nothing answered.

The sky was so bright it hurt. Moonlight reflected off the pond and blinded you when you tried to look up, and you let your eyes flutter shut again.

You promised, you screamed in your thoughts. 

Or maybe it didn’t. Maybe that was just what you told yourself, night after night, when it moved your hands like they weren’t yours and spoke in your voice when it needed to.

It could’ve left you any time.

It didn’t have to wait until you were dying, because it left your body in a freezing pond.

Your skin started to tingle. 

Not the sharp pins and needles of cold, it felt like a dull kind of tingling. 

You remembered learning that hypothermia makes you feel warm before it kills you.

You felt warm now.

That terrified you more than the cold did.

You heard a crunch.

Something in the distance. Footsteps.

You couldn’t turn your head, couldn’t focus your eyes. But you heard the snow crackle. A low growl. Voices. Human ones.

The snow crunched louder and closer, and you forced your eyes open. 

The wolf returned first. It stopped a few feet from the edge of the pond and let out a low whine.

It wasn’t alone.

Two men appear through the trees behind it. Human. 

One of them halted dead in his tracks and muttered something you didn’t catch. 

You wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or both.

“Is that a–?” one of the men said and cut himself off.

The other answered for him. “A human. Sunghoon found a human.”

They stoped at the edge of the pond, both staring in your direction. Your chest spasmed from the cold, and a weak, broken sound escaped your throat.

The closer one moved first.

“What the hell–?” he said, sounding stunned. "She’s alive.”

His boots crunched over the frozen mud around the pond, and you heard the quick splash of him stepping into the water. 

The first scoffed. “How the fuck would a human survive this deep in Grey Pines? Let alone end up half-naked, in that.”

The second didn’t answer right away. You heard his boots crunch as he took a few slow steps closer to the water’s edge. “Look at her arms.”

He paused and continued quietly. “They’re all torn up.”

Were they? You couldn’t tell; everything was hurting.

“She’s not moving. Shouldn't she be like shivering or something? I can still hear her heart.”

“No human could survive out here. Not in this cold. Not alone.”, the first man muttered.

The wolf let out a low, warning growl. You couldn’t tell if it’s directed at them or something else in the woods.

“I don’t like this,” he continued. “It feels like bait. This could be a glamour. A lure. She could be some kind of witch construct or worse. We’re not dragging a skin puppet back.”

“I don’t think she’s veilspawn,” the quieter one muttered again.

“She’s in the middle of the damn pond. On a rock. How does a human even get there without dying of hypothermia?”

“I don’t know.”

You heard the sound of leather creaking, cloth rustling. You thought he’s trying to study you more closely, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides like he wanted to reach for a weapon.

“She’s looking at us.”

You were. Barely. Your eyes were half-lidded, unfocused, but locked in their direction. How did he even see that from this far away? 

“She’s blinking,” the quiet one added.

The first cursed under his breath. “You’re seriously thinking of going out there”

“She’s gonna die if we don’t get her out of this water now.”

“Don’t touch her,” the other warned, stepping around the wolf and eyeing you. “You don’t know what she is. You know what walks out of the veil this time of year.”

You hand twitched, barley. Just enough to get their attention again.

The second one saw it. You felt his gaze sharpen, even in your almost delirious state.

“She moved.”

“Yeah, I saw it.”

Silence stretched, thick with tension.

You tried to move, but your body was still unresponsive.

“She’s freezing,” the first one said again, more quietly this time.

“Then leave her, Jake,” the other guy snaped. “She’s not our problem.”

Jake ignored him and suddenly shrugged off his coat.

You heard him sigh, and then the unmistakable splash of water. The slow, squelching footfalls as he steped into the pond, each one followed by a hiss through clenched teeth.

“God, it’s freezing. Why couldn’t Heeseung come tonight?” he muttered. “He’d just hover her out with his mind and be done.”

“Or he’d tell you not to touch a strange girl in the middle of a cursed pond,” the other one snaped. “This reeks, Jake. Humans don’t just end up here.”

“She’s barely breathing, Jay.”

“Exactly.”

Jake didn’t answer. He waded in deeper, the water lapping just below his knees now. “We can’t just leave her.”

He cursed under his breath, when he reached you, his hand touching your naked shoulder tentatively. “Damn. She’s ice.”

“Hey,” he said, softer now. “Hey, can you hear me?”

You blinked slowly. That’s all you can do. 

He looked over his shoulder. "She is still awake. If she’s just some unlucky girl who wandered in–”

“No one wanders in,” the second one shook his head. “She’s here with something. No way a human crosses the Grey Pines without a guide. ”

He gestured to the woods behind you. 

Jake exhaled sharply, like he was forcing something out, and suddenly, his hands were hot. Not just warm from blood and skin, but radiating. Like touching the sun wrapped in human form.

The heat poured into you in waves. Your body twitched once. Then again.

You gasped violently, coughing, air scraping your throat like broken glass. Jake steadied you, holding you close to his chest to keep your head above water.

Your eyes fluttered open, and the first thing you saw was firelight. Not a literal flame, but the glow coming from Jake’s skin. It dimmed the moonlight and warmed the space around him like a living furnace.

You signed and relaxed into his hold, and then you saw his face, wide eyes, jaw clenched, like he’s trying not to panic.

“Fuck I don’t know if she’s a human,” he said louder towards the ones he came with.

“Shit,” Jay cursed from the bank. “Told you. This is bad news. No one ends up in this part of the woods by accident.”

Jake didn’t respond right away. You felt his grip tighten, shifting your weight so he could carry you back toward the shore.

Your head lolled slightly against his chest, and your eyes threatened to fall shut. At the shore, Jake carefully set you down on the cold floor.

“She’s marked,” Jay said, standing next to your shaking body. “She reeks of veil magic. Look at her eyes.”

You didn’t know what’s wrong with your eyes. You were too tired to ask.

You were not sure how long you were laying there while they argued about what to do. Minutes, maybe hours. Time felt like it was leaking from you, dissolving like mist.

Until finally, Jake, lifted you into his arms again.

The pain of your frozen limbs bending made you whimper.

“I got you,” he said, muttering to himself as much as to you. “We’ll get you warm, and then you’re telling us what the hell you’re doing out here.”

You wanted to tell him you don’t even know yourself.

You wanted to ask where the creature went. 

Why did it leave you? 

“Can you open your eyes?” Jake asked, his voice low and oddly soothing.

You forced your eyelids open. The second your eyes met his, you knew what was coming. 

They were glowing faintly at first, then brighter, red bleeding into his irises like ink spreading in water. The books warned you about this. Taught you to look away. To resist. But it was hard to remember how, when your mind was already feeling so slow and tired.

“Good,” he murmurs, and his voice was different now, silkier. He reached forward, his touch gentle as he tilted your chin up with his fingers, keeping your gaze on his. 

“You’re going to close your eyes now,” he said, and it didn’t sound like a suggestion. “You won’t notice the path we take. You won’t remember the way. You’ll be safe, so just sleep.”

You wanted to fight it, you should fight it. Being left alone with two vampires without the Virethar to protect his earthly host didn’t feel like a good idea. But the warmth of his voice wrapped around your mind like a blanket, and your body listened. Your lashes fluttered once, twice, and then fall shut.

You were not even sure if it was your choice.

The world slipped out from under you the moment your eyes shut. You weren’t asleep, not fully, but your head felt so heavy and keeping your eyes open felt almost impossible. 

You didn’t know how long it was until there was a sudden pulling sensation in your chest, and your scalp started tingling. It was back. It came back. 

A low, guttural growl reverberated inside your skull, and you almost signed in relive. 

It came back.

It came back. 

It. Came. Back.

“Found.”

Joy flooded your body. It's joy. Your chest swelled, and it giggled.

A bright, brittle sound, too sharp for the night.

You shouldn’t be laughing. You knew that. You were still half-frozen, half-dead. But the giddiness rushing through you was impossible to ignore, and you couldn’t tell where the creature ends and your conscious mind begins.

Jake's hands started feeling even warmer but the heat was different than before. YOu didn’t feel it on your skin, you felt it in your bones. 

His magic.

It was draining him.

The creature wasn’t stealing whatever body warmth Jake had; it was draining him. 

You felt his magic sliding into your body like syrup, thick and rich and burning hot. And it felt so good, like waking up inside sunlight. The creature was pulling it through you, eating it up like it was starving.

You tried to stop it. 

“No,” you whispered inside yourself, but the word is hollow, useless. “Don’t hurt him. He’s helping-he’s nice-”

Jake stumbled, his grip tightening, and you felt his chest tense beneath you.

"Keep you alive."

The creature's voice rumbled through your head, and he pulled even more energy from Jake now, a foreign heat flaring in your gut. You felt your limbs twitch slightly, your spine arching.

Jake stumbled.

It giggled again and opened your eyes. Your vision blurred a bit and then sharpened

Jake flinched. You felt it in the stutter of his breath.

His arms jerked, trying to let go of you, to drop you. But it was too late, the shadows started moving.

“Whoa, what the hell?” he gasped.

They wrapped around you, curling out from beneath your hair, your skin, the hollows of your eyes. Tendrils of inky black coil-like snaked around Jake’s forearms, snaring you to him as if the darkness itself refuses to let him drop you.

Jake panicked. “Jay?! What–what the fuck?! She’s doing something!”

Jay’s voice cut from nearby, alarmed. “Put her down!”

“I can’t!” Jake shouted. “She’s–she’s stuck to me!”

Your body shuddered again. The air rippled with heat and the scent of smoke. Jake groaned, staggering under your weight.

It kept happening. You couldn’t stop it. The warm waves of whatever the creature was stealing from Jake pulsed through your body, and with every pulse, the darkness around you blackened. 

It giggled again. You tried to bite it back, stop the creature, but the sound slipped free, breathless and feather-light. You started to feel like you’re drunk. Or dreaming. Or both.

Jake tried to let go again. You felt it. The twitch of his fingers.

But the shadows spilled out from under you like ink, curling around his arms and ankles. Holding him still.

Your limbs tingled from the heat still pouring into them. You felt high on it. 

Jake choked and staggered, dropping down onto his knees.

You didn’t want to hurt him.

But you were so warm now.

Somewhere, you heard its voice whisper through your mouth, giddy and breathless.

“Found.”

“Stop.”, you tried to say, but you were caged in the part of your subconscious that's yours and purely yours. You didn’t feel strong enough to even try to regain authority over your body.  “Please.” 

Somehow it listened. The flow of warmth ebbed, flickered, and cut off like a candle being pinched out.

And suddenly everything hurt.

The cold came crashing back. The pain in your limbs. The bite of wind on your wet skin. You gasped again, this time not with relief.

But with pain.

The shadows that had curled around Jake loosened. 

You blinked slowly, then lifted your head just an inch, enough to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” you wheezed, voice raw and broken. He froze at the sound.

Your lips were trembling from the cold and exhaustion. “I didn’t… it didn’t mean to hurt you. It was just trying to help me stay alive. I told it to stop.”

Jake’s jaw was clenched, breath ragged, eyes flicking from your face to the now-drifting shadows.

Your head slumped back against Jake’s chest, and you curled inward with a shiver so violent it nearly knocked the breath from your lungs.

Your body was on fire and freezing at the same time. Your pulse staggered, skipping beats.

The Virethar shifted softly inside your mind.

“I told it to stop,” you whispered again, barely audible.

Neither of them said anything.

Jake’s arms were still around you, but his grip was tighter now. Almost rigid. 

You tried to speak again, to tell him to just go, the creature would know what to do, but your throat was too raw. 

“It stopped,” Jake muttered, voice clipped. 

His breathing was ragged. 

Jay snorted beside him, not even trying to hide his alarm.

“Yeah? After it drained half your strength and wrapped shadows around your goddamn wrists?”

You blinked slowly, head pounding, they kept on talking, but your head felt like it's underwater, and you only caught fragments of their conversations. Jake’s arms trembled slightly under your weight. 

You wanted to tell them you’re not a threat.

You wanted to believe it yourself.

“She shouldn’t be this deep in Grey Pines,” Jay said, quieter now, but his voice drifted through the dizziness. “Not past the veils.”

Jake swallowed hard.

“Veilspawn, don’t just wander this far,” Jay continued. “It’s either lost or looking for something.”

You tried to lift your head but your body refused. 

“I don’t want to bring her back. Even if a veil spawn has taken her body, she is still human. Maybe the coven can do something to get it out of her.” Jake admitted.

Get it out of you? No! They couldn't! You would die the second it completely left your body. They can't!

Jay’s voice dropped to a whisper. “The Park Vault.”

“No,” Jake muttered, almost to himself. “That place is-”

“It’s warded. Sealed with witch-iron. If she so much as breathes veil magic in there, it won’t let her move. Maybe not even survive.”

You could feel your heart straining now. You try to speak. Beg. Tell them it was just the creature, not you. That you told it to stop. That you’re still you.

But nothing came out. Just a soft, broken noise.

“She’s not staying between our lines and theirs,” Jay’s voice drifted through the fog. “If this sets off a blood war, it’s on us. Not happening.”

Jake didn’t answer.

He just adjusted his grip, tighter now, like he’s afraid you’ll wake up and tear your way out.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the same way you did earlier.

And then they started moving, carrying you deeper into the woods.

The walk was silent, even the forest seemed to hold its breath.

You were  barely aware of your surroundings anymore, just cold air against your skin, the scrape of branches, as the two picked up speed again. The world turned blurry again, not because of your head, but because of the speed they were moving.

The creature in your mind stired.

It creeped back from its place in your mind where it rested when you were in control, and you felt its presence uncoil like smoke, lazy but alert, drawn forward by something in the distance.

 It was interested.

Excited almost.

The air grew colder. You felt it even through the numbness.

Jake ducked low to enter the tomb, and the scent of damp earth and incense flooded your nose.

The moment you crossed the threshold, something clicked in the air. He stepped into a circular chamber, the walls carved with deep runes and overgrown sigils. The faint pulse of witch-magic clings to the space like mildew.

He lowered you to the stone floor, carefully, almost gently. You didn’t deserve him to be this gentle after you just almost sucked him dry. 

The instant your back hit the cold slab, the entire room responded.

With a sound like a slow breath, the tomb awakened.

Flames sparked to life in the sconces lining the walls. One by one. The runes etched into the floor blazed white, circling your body in a perfect ring.

Jake jerked backward, stumbling and Jay cursed under his breath.

Even the wolf let out a sharp, guttural snarl.

You completely forgot the wolf was there. 

It stood near the threshold, white fur streaked with old blood. Its eyes, glowing red, lock onto you. 

The runes should burn, you know that. They were there to keep creatures in pain, to weaken them until witches knew what to do, or to immediately get rid of weaker veil-spawns. 

But they didn’t. You felt them thrumming beneath you, alive with power but not against you. 

The Virethar hummed.

It’s… pleased.

“Witchcraft,” it’s voice vibrated though the back of your mind, “not for us.”

Your gaze sliped back to the wolf.

Big. Broad. Muscles coiled beneath fur like armor. A predator made of snow and shadow.

It should be terrifying.

But all you could think is how beautiful it looks in the firelight. The wolf’s red eyes are the last thing you see before you go.

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love, Patty ♡

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[gay-dorito-dust]

One piece reacts to you holding their hand when in need of comfort/reminder that they are there.

Zoro doesn’t flinch when you hold his hand, it’s happened more then once, he has yet to see you do similar with the rest of the crew, but he wasn’t about to say anything about how you always seem to come to him for comfort and security.

He wasn’t complaining as it only meant he was doing his job, growing stronger and cementing himself as someone strong enough, brave enough for others to find solace within. Zoro took pride in the work he had put in himself to get where he was now, he was even proud that you even thought of him as a source of comfort in the first place, and feeling no fear when you reached for his calloused hand that wasn’t perched upon the hilts of his swords.

He caresses his thumb against the back of your hand in a way to reassure you that nothing would happen when under his protection, nothing wouldn't dare harm a hair on your head when his reflexes were seemingly faster then light on most occasions, he had made himself an vow to himself to keep being your safe haven and your source of comfort.

Buggy almost jolts out of his skin when he feels you hold his hand out of the blue. He’s never known someone to touch him out of their own free will, not unless it was to beat him up at least, so feeling you grab his hand on instinct made him tense up before realising why you did what you did.

You were in search of something to ground yourself to and ironically he was the closet thing you could get your hands on, something to keep you steady and he was the one you automatically deemed safe enough to hold onto, at least just until this feeling of uncertainty passes you by.

Buggy would feel an sense of pride that out of everyone you could've possibly have picked from, you had chosen him to be your sense of normality and someone you associated with saftey and security, not that Buggy was complaining -not at all- as it only gave him an sense of purpose and he wasn't about to take your trust in him for granted.

He even puffs out his chest like a cocky bird and held your hand even tighter, and maybe even leaving you with it when he had some stuff to do, smiling ever so slightly when he felt you squeeze it and acting as though there isn't a warmth within his chest. Buggy is just happy that he could be useful and not a punching bag for once and he has you to thank.

Ace grips your hand immediately and squeezes it multiple times to reassure you that he was there, that he was real and he wasn’t going to let anything get to you. If anything he grips your hand with equal strength to show you that he held you in the same regard, that while he is your source of comfort you were just as much his source of comfort.

He felt as though he was the luckiest man alive to be chosen as then one person you go to when facing uncertainty and were at a geuine loss, feeling as though he wasn't worth your trust and companionship, thining that there were more better suiting people instead of him. Yet here you were proven his innermost thoughts wrong, holding his hand as though you'd be lost if you were to ever let go, which were things that only warmed Ace's heart tenfold.

His smile couldn't have been more wider then it ever had when your holding his hand as though it held all the awnsers you saught after, unafraid of the flames that he could easily conjure with a single snap of his fingers, treating it as though it was something sacred and only something you entrusted him to bear witness to it.

Ace felt as though he was within a picture perfect dream, not believing that this was reality until he felt the warmth of your palm push agaisnt his own, the twitch of your fingers and how you seemed to need to reassure yourself that he was real. At least he wasn't alone in such a feeling, feeling compelled to keep holding your hand if it meant being each others constant reminder that this was your shared reality, for he wouldn't about to let you wander this life alone in the dark when he could easily light thr way for you instead.

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTIKTOK TRENDS: PLUMPING LIP GLOSS * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N does the TikTok trend 'trying plumping lip gloss before kissing my boyfriend' with Matt just to see his reaction.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Y/N was curled up in the passenger seat of Matt's car, fluffy pink pajama pants bundled around her legs, her oversized hoodie swallowing her figure whole.

Matt had insisted they make a quick Target run before their movie night. He said they needed more snacks, and Y/N didn’t argue.

He was right.

They had, like, two Oreos left at home because obviously Chris had to eat all of them.

As soon as the door shut behind him and he vanished into the store, Y/N leaned forward, reaching for her phone in the cup holder. She unlocked it, smiling at her reflection, adjusting the angle just a little before slotting it onto the phone holder in front of her seat. With a single tap, the TikTok camera opened.

Record.

She blinked at the screen, instantly slipping into a soft tone.

"Hi, guys!" She whispered with a grin, glancing toward the driver seat to make sure Matt wasn’t coming yet. "Okay, so Matt ran into Target to grab snacks 'cause we're doing, like, a whole movie night. I'm gonna try to actually make him marathon Harry Potter."

She giggled and adjusted the hoodie’s collar, tugging the sleeves over her hands like she always did when she got too cozy. The camera caught just the tops of her bare knees poking out from under her fleece pajama pants, clear evidence that she very much did not leave the house intending to get out of the car.

Then she reached down and held up a shiny pink tube between two fingers, turning it slowly toward the camera so it sparkled under the small yellow light above her.

"But I thought it’d be funny if I did this new trend I saw on TikTok where you put on plumping gloss, like the really intense kind, and kiss your boyfriend to see if he notices. So, um... yeah."

She bit her lip to suppress a grin, holding up her Too Faced Lip Plump.

"This stuff." She said, unscrewing the cap. "Literally feels like the seventh circle of hell on your lips. So obviously... I’m gonna use it."

Y/N shifted forward, bringing her face close to the camera so she could use the screen as a mirror. She dipped the small wand onto her lips, the glossy pink sheen instantly coating her bottom lip. She held her breath a bit as she moved to the top, then slowly smacked her lips together, trying to spread it evenly.

"Okay... yeah, still spicy." She muttered, already feeling the faint tingle morphing into a burn. "Every time. Never gonna get used to this. Why do I do this to myself?"

She blinked at the camera with mock betrayal before glancing toward the store entrance, instantly smiling when her eyes caught the man dressed in all black, keys dangling from his waist and hands full.

The doors clicked, the unlocking beep echoing inside the quiet car.

"Okay, he’s coming." She whispered to the camera, quickly tossing the gloss to the side and leaning back into her seat, trying to look nonchalant. Her lips tingled violently, but she kept her face innocent.

Matt opened the driver’s side door with a loud, exhausted sigh, plopping into the seat with two Target paper bags. His hoodie was slightly lopsided, and his brown curls were flattened under his cap. He twisted to place the bags behind their seats and turned toward her, his grin bright and boyish - typical of him.

"Baby, it was so packed in there, I swear. Like, unnecessarily packed for a wednesday night." Then, as if remembering, he perked up, blue eyes seeming to shine a bit brighter. "But I got your favorite."

Y/N’s heart melted. She pouted at him dramatically.

"Really?! You did?"

He nodded proudly, causing a small laugh to escape Y/N's throat. He was so sweet.

"Yup. Found the last bag, too."

She leaned in, her voice soft and sweet.

"Thank you, pretty."

Matt blinked, recognizing the cue. His smile went soft, his pale cheeks taking on a pinkish color, as if he still wasn't used to it. Without hesitation, he leaned in, breathing in her natural perfume, and gave her a quick peck on her pouty lips before turning to face the front again, putting the car into drive like nothing had happened.

But something had happened.

Y/N folded her lips inward to stop herself from laughing. One second. Two seconds.

By the third second, Matt’s brows furrowed. He frowned slightly, lips pursed, and shifted a little in his seat, car slowing down just a bit.

Thank God they were still inside the parking lot.

She turned to him, all faux concern.

"You okay?"

He nodded slowly.

"Yeah. Just... my lips are burning?"

Y/N blinked, tilting her head, trying not to react with how he seemed to be asking her instead of affirming what he, himself, was feeling.

"Wait, what? They're?"

Matt’s face scrunched up again.

"Yeah, my lips are literally burning. Like, they’re tingling? Did I eat something spicy today?"

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh as she kept her voice sweet and curious.

"Did you?"

"No." He said quickly, clearly puzzled. "I didn’t even touch any food in the last few hours. Why are my lips burning?" He lifted one hand from the wheel and pressed two fingers to his bottom lip, inspecting them like maybe the answer would be printed there.

Y/N blinked at him, eyes wide, feigning confusion.

"Maybe it’s, like... an allergy?"

Matt cut her a deadpan look before going back to pouting.

"No, seriously, Y/N, it feels like someone set my mouth on fire."

She turned to the camera for a split second, her lips twitching with barely contained laughter, then looked back at him, observing how his eyebrows furrowed deep, his eyes concentrated on the road while his hand kept touching his lips.

"Is it hurting that bad?"

Matt nodded dramatically, lips slightly puckered, a baby-whine in his voice.

"Yes. What the hell."

"You want me to-" She gestured toward his lips. "See if they look weird or something?"

He nodded eagerly, leaning a little toward her. Y/N leaned in, too, peering closely, but her wrong move was to meet his pleading eyes for a split second, a soft giggle escaping before she could stop it.

"What?" Matt demanded, eyes widening and voice growing some octaves. "What?!"

She shook her head, laughing harder.

"I can’t- I knew you’d react like this."

"Knew I’d- wait." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What did you do?"

Y/N could barely speak between her laughs, her hands up like she was surrendering.

"It was just a TikTok trend, I swear! I put on plumping gloss and kissed you to see if you'd notice!"

Matt's mouth dropped.

"You poisoned me?!"

She burst out laughing again.

"It’s not poison, Matt! It's just lip gloss."

"My lips are on fucking fire, Y/N. I’m driving a moving vehicle and my face is actively combusting."

Y/N pointed out the windshield through her giggles, shaking her head.

"You’re literally one block from home. Don’t be dramatic."

Matt shook his head, lips puckered, sulking like an actual baby.

"You're so fucking unreal sometimes."

"I already told you!" She said through a laugh. "The burning means it’s working."

"I don’t want it to work! I want my old lips back!"

Y/N leaned forward, kissed his cheek gently, and smiled at him with those sparkling eyes she knew would soften him, eyes catching the shining glitter left behind from her lips on his milky skin.

Matt side-eyed her, trying so hard to hold onto his pout.

"You still look hot, though." She added softly, letting her voice drop.

His lips twitched.

"You're not forgiven." He muttered.

"Yet." She whispered and kissed his cheek again.

And just like that, Matt cracked.

He was that easy, and Y/N adored it.

"You suck." He grinned, shaking his head as he pulled into their driveway.

Y/N rolled her eyes, Matt turning his head to properly look at her just in time for her to gently catch his lips in another quick kiss, smiling.

"I hope your mouth catches on fire, too." He muttered against her mouth.

“Oh, it already is." She giggled, shutting off the camera with a wink.

extra - comments:

"Y/N said ✨ suffer ✨ for the content and Matt really did 😭 boyfriend of the year and he don’t even know it

"Y/N: applies literal lava to lips

matt: 'my lips are BURNING'

also matt: accepts another kiss immediately like a trained puppy 💀💀💀"

"petition to make matt try every trend blindly so we can get more of those versions of him 👏👏👏"

"why is matt being a dramatic little princess while driving kinda hot tho?? like yes pout king 😩"

"this is the most romantic act of violence I’ve ever witnessed"

"matt: panicking mid-drive, lips burning, brain melting

Y/N: 'is it hurting that bad?' 😭 she’s EVIL and I support her fully"

"y’all matt is the only man who could be actively suffering and still be like 'but she’s pretty tho 🥺'"

© vanteguccir

[holdmytesseract]

Guardian Angel

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When Pamela Milton makes the big mistake to threaten Daryl and his family, the archer isn't afraid of protecting what's his - at all costs.

Warnings: usual TWD stuff, violence, blood, choking, injuries, threatening a baby, attempted murder & murder, mentions of birthing a baby, protective dad!Daryl, fluff & babies!

Set in Season 11!

Word Count: 3,4k

a/n: I wrote this for @dixonsstinkysock , 'cause she was so excited about dad!Daryl, hehe. Thank you for the inspiration! I LOVED writing this! Hope you like it, too.

Disclaimer: Some words of the interaction between Carol and Daryl aren't mine. I just used them to fit the plot.

EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

A father... He got blessed with becoming a father. Never ever - not even in his wildest dreams would've Daryl thought that the end of the world was going to bring this his way. Never. And yet here he was. It was incredible and borderline unbelievable. The archer would've scoffed and laughed into everybody's face who told him that in the beginning of this shit show.

Daryl buttoned up the fresh black grayish shirt he was just forced to slip into. Kudos to the tiny bundle of joy who had gotten to see the light of the world only a mere week ago and decided to 'burp' milk all over his shoulder. Daryl forgot to use a burp cloth; still adjusting to this whole new situation.

He couldn't help but smile to himself, as deft fingers worked the buttons.

The archer's heart was close to exploding with all the love he felt for you and his baby girl.

"What got you smiling so cute?"

Your sudden remark catapulted Daryl out of his thoughts. He finished the last button on the shirt, then lifted his head properly. His eyes met your frame; standing in the doorway - and it was probably the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You were wearing one of his sweaters, sweatpants and fluffy socks. Clothes who did not tick many boxes besides being absolutely comfortable. Comfort was all you cared about at the moment - understandably. Besides the easy access to your daughter's food source, of course. Speaking of her... She was neatly tucked against your body to provide body warmth; hands cradling her bum and head. Eyes closed and most likely sleeping; milk drunk and satisfied.

He merely shook his head; still smiling. "Nothin'. Jus'..." Daryl crossed the short distance between you and him. One hand gripped your hip gently, the other cupped your cheek. "...this. You. Our daughter." His oceanic blues gazed into your Y/E/C ones. "Ain't never been happier in my life, I think." Daryl's words caused you to smile as well. Turning your head slightly, you kissed his palm. "Me too. Even more now since we go back home." He nodded in agreement, "Yeah. 'S gon be perfect." and pressed a tender, lingering kiss against your forehead. His goatee tickling your skin.

"I love you, Dar."

Although he heard you say it about a million times by now, his heart never failed to skip a beat. "I love ya, too, sunshine." His eyes flickered to the newborn in your arms. "Both 'a ya." You smiled; eyes speaking the language of pure, unbridled love.

"'M gonna go check if the others are ready. 'N I gotta get my bike, too," the archer said; thumbs caressing your soft, delicate skin. You nodded. "Sure, go. I'll get everything ready here. Could you send Jude and RJ over? They have to check their room again and make sure they got everything." "'M gonna send the kids over, yeah, but you, darlin', ain't gonna do anythin' besides movin' yer cute ass over to the sofa 'n lay down."

A last loving look was exchanged before he grabbed his angel-winged vest, slipped inside the signature piece of clothing and left.

You wanted to open your mouth and say something in protest but Daryl was quick to leapfrog you. "Nah. No buts. Yer gonna rest. Yer body is still recoverin' 'n we got a long way home." You sighed, but nodded; knowing that arguing wouldn't get you further. Plus, you couldn't deny that your partner was actually right.

"Okay, yeah. I'm gonna lay down." Daryl smiled, "Good girl." and dipped his head to bestow a soft kiss on your lips before he let go of you. His thumb brushed over one tiny foot of his daughter; safely confined by the romper she was wearing. "I won't be long," he promised; marveling at the baby's smallness. You watched Daryl with yet another smile. How his eyes stuck on the tiny girl. His gentle touch. "Yeah, I know."

He had managed to make it a one on one; killing one of the men. The clearly weaker fighter. The other one was stronger and harder to defeat. One moment of negligence was enough to get into a predicament. That was the moment the guy became a problem. He gained the upper hand and had the archer now pinned to the concrete floor; choking him. Daryl tried hard to fight it. He couldn't and wouldn't die. He had a family to look after now. To protect. To provide for. You and his newborn daughter.

Little did the archer know that he was going to fight for his life only a few minutes later...

He had reached the meeting point; carriage completely abandoned and messy. Wooden boxes laid on the ground with their content mostly destroyed and distributed on the ground. No Maggie. No Hershel. No Jude or RJ. Nobody. Daryl frowned, kicked down the pedestal of his bike to park it and immediately started to analyze the scene; quite confused. The traces led him into the warehouse behind the scene, but he didn't have the time to 'investigate' any further. Two men sneaked up on him - the perfect ambush. Before Daryl could even blink, he found himself in a fight again. Two against one - not even remotely fair, but not really a problem for the experienced fighter. Yet.

"They got the kids, Maggie," Daryl panted and breathed hard to get air back into his lungs. His eyes met the ones of his best friend; showing his gratitude. "They got everyone," Carol stated. Daryl's eyes widened to the size of plates as the meaning of his friend's words hit him like a truck. If Pamela's men tried to abduct everyone of the group, it meant... "Y/N..." Daryl gasped. "Fuck. I gotta go. I gotta check on 'em." Carol nodded in understanding. "Go, but be careful, yeah? Don't act headless. I know you." Daryl merely nodded; already halfway disappearing around the corner. Carol looked after him with a worried look. She wasn't sure if it was a good idea to split up.

No, he wasn't going to die. Not today. Not here. Not now. And certainly not because of this asshole.

Help was just around the corner, though. Carol, who apparently had the same thought as him, appeared behind the men and used a slat to hit the prick on the head who was currently choking her best friend. Daryl got quickly up and grabbed his knife - just in time to watch the man he killed take a bite out of his former colleague. It was an easy task to get rid of the threat then; driving his weapon through both men's skulls.

Daryl more or less ran back to the house in which he shared an apartment with you. He hurried up the steps as fast as his legs carried him - only to find the door slightly ajar. His heart thumped hard against his ribcage; almost bursting at the sight. He already feared the worst, but then the signature cries of his baby urged to his ears. Without hesitation, he stormed inside.

The scene he walked into made his blood boil. The apartment was messy; signaling the archer that you had clearly been involved in a fight as well. His eyes frantically searched for you. It didn't take him long to do so... A man had pinned you to the wall beside the sofa and crib. One hand firmly around your throat, the other trying to reach for the tiny girl in the grip; attempting to cover her mouth to keep her cries muffled. Wheezing breaths left your lips as you tried to stay conscious. Your hands wrapped around the man's wrist as he choked you; scratching and pulling. Your legs kicked repeatedly against the shins of the man, but all of it wasn't quite helping. Usually, you had no problem to fight a man - or more. Daryl had taught you very well, but right now you didn't stand a chance. Not after birthing a baby only a few days ago. Your body was still recovering and not strong enough for a fight.

Daryl balled his hands to fists; jaw clenching. The primitive urge to protect his woman and child stronger than ever before. He was about to absolutely lose it and run over to fight the man who hurt his family - but then your eyes flickered up and landed coincidentally on your partner. Out of instinct, your eyes widened and you started to wriggle even more against your opponent's death grip - a mistake. Your understandable but obvious behavior blew Daryl's cover; took him the advantage of going unnoticed away.

The intruder noticed, of course and looked over his shoulder to witness the archer on the verge of storming over. Unfortunately wasn't the man stupid. He let quickly go of you; carelessly, and took a step to the left - towards the crib with his hands hovering about the crying infant inside. "One step closer and the baby dies!" The man yelled, causing Daryl to literally freeze in his movements. The archer threw him a death glare; heart racing in his chest. Fear and anger pumped adrenaline through his whole system.

"Touch 'er 'n I kill ya," Daryl growled through gritted teeth. "Try me," spat the man in return. The tension was thick; cuttable with a knife.

You sat on the floor; body slumped against the wall. Your strength was running so low that you weren't even able to keep yourself on your feet. Especially not after being halfway choked to death. You barely registered the conversation and stare contest between your attacker and partner since your body was too occupied in getting air back inside your lungs. You coughed; breathing hard and unsteady. It broke Daryl's heart to see you like that... In pain and suffering. He wanted to hurry over to you. Help you. Make sure you were okay, but he couldn't risk it. He'd never forgive himself if this innocent, tiny life got hurt because of him.

Your body may have been weak, but your motherly instincts strong. The cries of your baby - cries of helplessness and discomfort sent you into a frenzy. "P-Please, don't, please..." You stammered out; tears gathering in your eyes. "T-That's my baby, p-please!" You were begging the man, while trying to heave your exhausted body closer to the crib. But he didn't have any of it. "Stay where you are! Nobody moves, or...!" He put his hands dangerously close to the tiny girl's neck. Both, you and Daryl knew that it wouldn't take much. She was barely a week old; still so tiny and fragile.

He had unlocked the animal inside of the archer with threatening his baby and its mother, and was now paying the price. With his life.

Daryl's brain worked feverishly to find a way to get both his girls safely out of the situation, while you kept whispering 'Please' over and over again like prayer.

"Whaddaya want?! Where did ya take the others?!" The archer started to indulge the man in a conversation; hoping to distract him enough to get his knife out of its sheath unnoticed. "Freeing the Commonwealth of a plague," the man hissed. Daryl shook his head; hand working subtle and precisely. "Ya didn't answer my question, ya prick. Where are the others?" "I don't know, scum! And I frankly don't ca- Ahhh!" A painful yelp slipped past the man's lips as he was forced to cut off his own sentence. Daryl's plan had been a success. He had freed his knife, took the risk - he had to, and threw said knife which was now plunged in the man's shoulder. It caused him to stumble a few steps back - away from the crib and the newborn inside. That was Daryl's start signal. He lunged forward to literally tackle the intruder to the ground. From that moment on, everything happened so fast. Fists colliding with skin and bones, until they were bloody and went to wrap around the throat. The man underneath Daryl was struggling and desperately trying to shove him off and away from him, but it was no use. Daryl was too strong; too dominant.

His heart clenched.

"Told ya I was gonna kill ya, prick," Daryl growled, pulled his knife out of the man's shoulder to pierce his skull with it instead, before he crawled off of the lifeless body. He quickly wiped his bloodied knuckles on his shirt and lifted himself off the ground to tend to his still crying baby. His fatherly instincts kicking into overdrive.

Daryl approached the crib; hovering over the wooden furniture. The tiny girl inside was wriggling around in her warm confines like crazy. Cheeks stained with tears and red from all the crying.

"Hey, lil' angel, dun cry," he whispered hoarsely yet gently and reached carefully inside to cradle the miniature human in his big hands. "Sh, sh, sh, 's all good. Daddy got ya, sweetpea." He lifted her up to lay her into the crook of his arm to provide some body contact and warmth in an attempt to calm her down. His pointer finger softly traced her cheeks and the small hands which were closed to fists with the even smaller fingers attached.

Once your breathing got even and regular again, one hand reached out to cover Daryl's - which was cupping the newborn's bottom to keep her safely tucked in his arm. You looked up; eyes meeting your partner's - and he knew. He saw the longing in your eyes. The urge. The need to hold your daughter. So, without a word, the archer maneuvered the baby girl cautiously in your arms. She protested at the short loss of warmth with a whine, but once she felt that her mama was close, the world was perfectly alright again. You buried your nose in the baby's tufts of chestnut brown hair; deeply inhaling her scent and pressing your lips repeatedly against the utter softness.

At her father's words, touch and comfort, the little girl calmed down. Her cries got quieter and quieter, until they faded into soft coos.

"S-She okay?" Your broken, shaky voice urged to his ears and he instantly looked up to face you. You were still sitting on the floor; wiping away some stray tears and trying to get a grip and grasp what just happened. Daryl hadn't forgotten about you. Of course not! He just thought it would be best to tend to his crying infant first. He nodded; eyes thoroughly scanning the baby's body again. "All good. She's fine, sunshine." A relieved breath you didn't even know you were holding left your lips.

The archer stepped over and sat down on the floor beside you; back propped against the wall. He opened his arm for you. "C'mere. Gotta make sure my woman is a'right as well." You didn't let yourself tell that twice. You slid closer - into Daryl's awaiting arm and cuddled against his side. His closeness (and your baby) being all you needed right now. He instantly tightened his grip around you; chapped but gentle lips peppering your forehead repeatedly with kisses. "'S okay. 'M here. I got ya," your partner whispered as he tried to offer as much comfort and love as possible. "Ain't lettin' anythin' happen to my family." You were still in a state of shock, so you said nothing at all and just held on to Daryl. Closing your eyes, you relished in his touch and inhaled his natural scent. Leather, smoke, something earthy and musky, and a touch of blood and sweat.

She was okay and safely back in your arms.

Daryl adjusted his position; was now seated behind you. His back against the wall, your back against his chest as you sat between his open legs. Strong arms pulled you protectively closer; tucking you neatly against his front.

"Ya okay, darlin'?" He muttered softly, as his thumbs started to rub soothing circles into the clothed skin of your sides. You nodded. Merely, but you nodded. The shock was the worst - besides the still lingering pain around your neck and throat. Daryl's eyes flickered over every visible body part of yours; making sure. They got stuck on your neck, of course, and saw the bruises forming already. He swallowed. Another wave of rage crushes into him. He was angry. Angry of Pamela for breaking the deal and kidnapping his friends and family. Angry of himself for not being here to help earlier. For letting this happen.

The archer's head dropped to your neck, where he peppered the bruised and hurting skin with gentle kisses. "'M sorry," he whispered. "'M so sorry. Shoulda been 'ere earlier. Then this wouldn't have happened. Fuck, should've never even left from the start..." His voice broke at the end; close to shedding tears.

You had listened to his every word. Your eyes watered as well. You shook your head and freed one hand from the now sleeping newborn in your arms to reach behind and cup Daryl's head; fingers buried in his curls. "It's not your fault, Dar. You couldn't know that this was going to happen..." "Dun care. Shoulda been here. 'S my job to protect the both 'a ya, 'n I failed. I dun even wanna know what would've happened if I didn't..." He trailed off and swallowed hard; unable to finish the sentence. It hurt too much. "Daryl..." You whispered his name and angled your head; lips brushing his stubbly cheek, then his lips. "Stop, baby. What happened happened. You can't change it. But we're alright, okay? We're here. We're alive - and whatever Pamela throws at us... We're gonna make it. We're gonna find the others and make it. Together. Like we always do."

Your heart sunk.

Daryl swallowed once more. You were right. He couldn't change the past, but the future. He swore to himself to protect you even better. And together you were going to make this. Like you always did. Starting over.

His lips searched and found yours; entangling them in a linger kiss filled with love and the promise to keep you and his baby safe - until the very last breath he was going to take on this godforsaken planet. You melted into the kiss. It gave you the strength and confidence you needed. It always did. Daryl was the bright and shining light in this dark world. Always was, and he always would be.

Once you ended the kiss, Daryl started to shift then; gently squeezing your sides to urge you on to stand up as well. "C'mon, sunshine. We should go, 'n find Carol." You nodded and started to move as well; Daryl helping you stand up. After all, you had a cute, tiny creature tucked in your arms... "Carol managed to flee? Thank god..." The archer nodded and grabbed the most necessary backpack you had packed - filled with baby stuff. Diapers, bottles, fresh clothes, blankets and such things. "Yeah, 'm glad too, but I think nobody else beside us made it to escape."

"W-We gotta find them. Help them." Daryl threw the backpack over his shoulder and took the tiny girl from your arms in his so that you were able to slip in your 'outdoor' clothes with your weapons attached. "And we will, sunshine," he promised you and lastly helped you slip inside the baby carrier with one hand. "We'll find each other again. 'S what we do. 'S what we always did. Ain't nothin' in this world is gonna keep us apart for long." Daryl maneuvered the little girl into the carrier. You made sure that she was safely and securely strapped inside; luckily still sleeping. "We're gonna safe 'em and Alexandria."

A surge of hope and confidence swept over you at his words. You took your partner's hand; intertwining your fingers and gave his big hand a squeeze. You nodded, "Let's go." and smiled. Daryl dipped his head to bestow another kiss on your forehead then gave you a small smile in return, before he started to guide you out of the apartment. You had to find Carol, find out where the others had been taken and then get the hell out of this place.

One thing was certain... The archer was done playing games.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @dixonsdarkelf @dixons-sunshine @negansbestie @bigbaldheadname @ellasdixon @loz-3 @imadisneyprincessiswear @mayday2007 @huntedmusicgardenn @belitoxx @marvelcasey05 @stitchintimefan @whore4romance @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @cakesandtom @sweetz1919

[feelfreetopleasemexo]

Spilling the (truth) tea.

Reader gets truth serum spilt on them and accidentally confesses her true feelings.

Ochaco found you wondering the halls babbling to yourself after initially leaving the UA dorms to find Hatsume. You wanted to upgrade your hero costume one last time before graduation, but, Hatsume being Hatsume, she accidentally spilled a mysterious liquid on you whilst she was trudging through her 'babies' to find you the last piece of armour she'd put away.

You were talking to yourself, completely dazed and walking around in circles, the conversation you were having with yourself suddenly became a bit heated and you started shouting at the wall. Ochaco ran over and placed her hand on your shoulder, causing your eyes to fixate on her, and then open your mouth.

"Ochaco Uraraka, the sweetest little bundle of joy, if I were gay she'd be the one I would marry. Her smile lights up the room and every single time anyone is upset, they fly to her like a magnet. Purest heart, will make an excellent support hero. 9/10 best friend, would definitely make love to."

Her eyes widened at your confession, she had no idea why you suddenly just started complimenting her, but by the glossy look in your eyes she knew something was wrong.

"Oh, um, thanks y/n! But er, everything okay? Did Hatsume do something to you or...."

And as if on que, Hatsume poked her head out of the doorway, laughing and cleaning her steampunk glasses.

"Yeah so, kinda got a bit crazy in there. Spilled some of my truth serum stuff on her and now...well yeah, she won't stop confessing her true feelings for people she looks at. It'll wear off in a couple of hours but...."

"Mei Hatsume, annoying but pure. If she learnt to shut up for a single second and take a breath, she might make a really good best friend. Easily surpasses everyone else on the other courses, and if she toned down a bit she'd easily reach top ranks in the hero rankings, especially the public opinion rankings. 7/10. Would bang"

Both of the girls looked at eachother stunned, Hatsume let out a disgustingly loud laugh, throwing her head back and smiled at Ochaco.

"Yeah, id get her back to her dorm if I were you. Here, take this too! Yano, just in case she bumps into all might or aizawa and accidentally confesses her undying love for them or something...." She chucked a blindfold to Ochaco, laughing as she disappeared back into the room.

On the walk back to the dorms, you were silent. Ochaco tried to make small conversation with you, tried to ask questions about what happened, if that's how you actually really felt about her and if you needed her to do anything for you. You didn't reply, your mouth tightly closed as she lead you to the entrance of the UA dorms building.

When you both entered, you accidently bumped into Kirishima, who was walking past with his head buried in a comic. Bumping into him caused your blindfold to slip slightly, catching a glimpse of the cute shark boy.

"Eijiro Kirishima, the physical embodiment of happiness. Whenever I get cornered my mind instantly searches for him to protect me. Impeccable quirk, and even more impressive social skills. 8/10 perfect husband material. Would definitely make love to."

His eyes widened as he dropped his comic, mouth slack at your completely outlandish confession. His eyes flicked to Ochaco who frantically scrambled to grab your blindfold, forcing it back onto your eyes causing you to close your mouth tightly again and grab onto her arm for stability.

"Um, what? Wha, what was all that? Why did y/n say she'd ma..make love to me? Im so confused."

Ochaco explained what had happened, and explained that after a few hours it would wear off so she was taking you back to your dorm so you couldn't embarrass yourself further. Just as she was explaining the affects of the serum to Kiri, katsuki flicked his eyes from over his phone to you three. He jumped up, stomping over to Kiri and ochaco, smirk snuggly slapped across his face.

"My turn. I wanna know what this extra really thinks about me." Before they could protest, he ripped the blindfold off your eyes, face merely an inch away from yours.

"Katsuki Bakugo, hot but an asshole, if he shut up and learned to take a compliment he'd be the perfect boyfriend for anyone. Terrifyingly impressive quirk, he knows he's the best and he rightfully should. Would make the world's most devastating villain. 8/10, would let fuck the shit out of me. More than once." 

His smirk grew wider as his eyes darkened, clearly more than impressed with your statement. He threw his head back and laughed, pride filling his body as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"Dirty bitch. I knew she had the hots for me. Glad she can see why I'm the best though, all you other extras just need to catch up. "

Suddenly, the common room started to fill with curious heads, cautiously trying to figure out why katsuki was even more loud than usual. After hearing your confession about him, more and more of your classmates let their curiosity take over them as they crowded around you.

"Everyone's getting the harsh truth today, wether they like it or not. WHOS NEXT?!"

Everyone scrambled into a line, desperate for some form of validation from your confessions about them, only to find that deku was forced to the front of the queue.

"Izuku Midoriya, ...there's too much. A cry baby, bitch boy, best friend potential, probably an impeccable lover. Kind. Honest. All mights secret love child probably? Fearless, sweet, loyal. He's like if a baby rabbit got hit with the world's strongest quirk, kicked your ass then sweetly hopped away afterwards like nothing happened. 9/10, he'd be too terrified to touch you, but if he did then he'd make the sweetest soul tie whilst inside of you."

His eyes watered, confusion and adoration filling his face, he wanted to reply, wanted to thank you but quickly got shoved aside by denki.

"MY TURN MY TURN! Let's see what this crazy spark plug thinks about me and how cool and chill I am."

Ochaco tried to reach over and cover your eyes but it was too late.

"Denki kaminari, truly believe he's my soul mate. Sweetest, kindest person I've ever met and definitely doesn't deserve to be the butt of every joke. I want to fuck the shit out of him, suffocate him with my thighs because you just know he eats it like an olympic sport. Want him to break me in every single way possible, electrocuting me until I can't feel my legs then keep destroying me further. Almost as perverted as I am. Think about him every single night as I touch myself. 11/10, want to be his girlfriend, wife, soul mate...."

Suddenly the room was filled with stunned silence, as aizawa kicked the front door shut behind himself, forcing everyone, including yourself, to look right at him.

"Shōta Aizawa, should be the number one hero because of his impressive skills and insatiable combat knowledge. See him as a father. Kind, considerate, thinks his standoffish initial approach keeps him distanced from everyone, but only makes everyone want to discover why he is this way. Perfect husband and father material. 10/10 wish he would adopt me."

His eyes remained half-lidded as he stared at you, turning his quirk on to see if it would help you. It didn't. He rolled his eyes and looked at ochaco who was clinging to your arm.

"Take her to her dorm, I think she's had more than enough of embarrassing herself for one day. " The rest of the class whined in protest as they hadn't had their chance at getting your brutally honest option of them, only for him to snap his eyes and widen them at everyone. They all closed their mouths and looked down, apologising.

Ochaco helped walk you to your dorm, got you into bed and sat on the edge as she played with your hair, helping you drift off to sleep.

"Well, I guess that's one way to tell denki you like him. I don't think you'll ever be living it down though, sorry y/n. I'll tell aizawa everything once you're settled, don't worry." Her laugh echoed through your room, quiet but understanding. She was right, you never lived it down, but it did mean that Denki knew you fancied him, and did mean that you had a letter pushed through the bottom of your door later that night.

'meet me in the kitchen at 2am. Let's see how sturdy that kitchen counter really is ;) D x'

[jessesluvr]

heyyy do you write angst? the ending can be whatever you like, even fluff!!!!!! i was thinking of jesse and dina being done for good and jesse and reader are already friends and start trying it out yk dating and stuff and them 2 months later they are so in love and everyone can see it until dina shows up saying she's pregnant and jesse was the last man she been with. reader tries to keep going and accept the situation but she can't help but thinking she can't do this, being a stepmom and knowing that if her and jesse ever get pregnant jesse will already have experienced the whole thing and this makes her sick and sad since she wants kids and has mentioned wanting a boy. she tries to keep going but a few months in jesse and dina says he thinks it's a boy she breaks down and say she can't do this. i think that's messy so i'm sorry

first, not mine | jesse x reader

author's note : to the anon that requested this.. COUNT YOUR DAYS?! you're my number one enemy now. i did this for you ! jk jk, i love you to bits, please enjoy this absolute heart shattering oneshot (at least to me). do other authors SOB at their own works, and feel their heart absolutely break, because mine did.

summary : after falling deeply in love with jesse, the reader’s world quietly unravels when dina reveals she’s pregnant with his child, forcing her to confront a future where she’ll always come second. despite trying to stay, the reader ultimately walks away, unable to bear the weight of a dream that now belongs to someone else.

word count : 3.7k

jackson’s nights were quiet in the way that made people nervous. too much silence often meant a storm was coming — literal or otherwise — but tonight, the wind was easy and the moon was low, casting gentle light on the muddy trails near the stables.

you had the early patrol tomorrow, but you found yourself lingering.

jesse stood beside you, leaning his arms on the top rail of the corral fence, boots scuffed and shirt rolled to the elbows. his skin glowed faintly in the lantern-light, bronze and shadowed, his eyes tracing the horizon like he was waiting for something to arrive. or leave.

neither of you spoke for a while.

not because there was nothing to say — but because there was finally nothing that needed to be said.

“i heard eugene found another old comic stash in the radio tower,” you said eventually, breaking the stillness with a lopsided smile. “swore he wasn’t gonna let anyone touch it, but i think ellie bribed him with jerky.”

jesse huffed a quiet laugh, glancing at you. “she probably threatened to melt his snow globes if he didn’t give her first pick.”

you chuckled, and his grin widened at the sound. there it was again — that little flutter in your stomach. it had been coming more often lately. every time he looked at you too long. every time your hands brushed when passing tools. every time he waited for you after patrol, even when you had nothing to do.

you hadn’t expected it. you’d been friends with jesse for over a year — long enough to know his tells, his sense of humor, the way his mood changed with the weather.

long enough to remember how he looked when he was still with dina.

they’d been over for a while now. nobody talked about it much — not even jesse. they still saw each other around town, made polite nods, exchanged words like they weren’t bitter in the back of their throats.

but jesse hadn’t gone back. he hadn’t waited around, either. instead, he started standing next to you more often. sitting beside you on watch. sharing meals. laughing longer at your jokes.

you didn’t know when friendship became something else — only that it had.

“tomorrow’s gonna suck,” you muttered, tugging your jacket tighter around you. “rain’s supposed to start around sunrise.”

“i’ll bring extra coffee,” jesse said. “you take cream, right?”

you blinked, surprised. “i didn’t know you noticed that.”

“i notice a lot of things,” he said softly, and your stomach turned to heat.

he pushed off the fence then, standing close. not too close — not assuming — but close enough that your hands almost touched in the dark.

you looked up at him.

it should’ve been awkward. but there was nothing unsure about the way jesse looked at you — only warmth, only patience, like he’d been waiting for you to catch up.

so you reached for his hand.

and he let you.

you didn’t tell anyone at first.

it wasn’t about hiding. it was about keeping something soft. something untouched by the rest of the world.

jackson had a way of putting its nose where it didn’t belong. couples were everyone’s business. breakups even more so. and jesse… jesse had always been at the center of things — trusted, reliable, always smiling. it made people curious. gossip slipped like frost through the streets, and you didn’t want to be part of it.

so instead, you kept it simple. quiet touches. shared lunches. books passed back and forth. you kissed only once that first week, in the corner of the library when no one was looking — a hesitant, hopeful thing.

he kissed you like he wasn’t used to being kissed gently.

and you kissed him like you were terrified to wake up from it.

two months later, it didn’t feel like hiding anymore.

it felt like home.

you found comfort in the routines — early morning rides, mid-day fencing repairs, jesse waiting for you with two mugs of bitter coffee and that stupid grin that made your knees wobble. it didn’t matter if the days were long. he made them lighter.

and everyone noticed.

maria had caught you two talking by the greenhouse and raised an eyebrow that said finally. ellie gave you shit for it, but it was the fond kind — the kind that meant she approved, even if she’d never say it directly. tommy started putting you on patrols together more often.

even dina… well, dina hadn’t said much.

she was still around, of course. she never left jackson after the breakup — just stopped being part of your circle. she kept to herself. took late patrols. worked in the armory when you weren’t there.

you crossed paths sometimes. she’d nod. you’d nod. but she never lingered.

it didn’t feel hostile. just distant.

jesse didn’t talk about her much. you never asked him to. but sometimes you caught something in his expression — a flicker of guilt, maybe. regret. not for being with you, but for how much time had passed in the in-between.

still, those thoughts faded when he pulled you into bed at night, hands warm and words soft in the dark.

he touched you like he was grateful you existed. like you were something good in a world that rarely allowed it.

you’d fallen for him so fast, it scared you.

and somehow, he always knew when you needed to be held tighter.

you talked about the future once.

lying in the tall grass behind the orchard, sun high overhead, a blanket beneath you and jesse’s hand tangled in yours.

he was telling a dumb story — something about ellie mistaking a raccoon for a dog — and you were laughing so hard your stomach hurt. when the laughter faded, you said, without really meaning to:

“i always thought i’d have a little boy someday.”

jesse’s brow arched. “oh yeah?”

“yeah,” you said, smiling softly. “one of those loud, scrappy kids. always falling off things. covered in dirt. would probably drive me crazy.”

jesse grinned. “you’d make a good mom.”

you went still for a moment, startled.

“i mean it,” he said, voice gentle. “you’ve got a big heart. and you’re tougher than half the people in this town. any kid would be lucky to have you.”

you turned your face away before he could see the tears.

you didn’t know what the future held. but for the first time in years, you hoped for something more.

the day started like any other.

light rain fell in the early hours, turning the dirt paths of jackson into soft mud. you’d just finished restocking ammo at the armory when jesse came in, soaked from the waist down and grumbling about wet socks. he looked boyish like that — cheeks flushed, hair a mess, and smiling just for you.

you kissed him behind the workbench, hands resting on his chest, fingers grazing the damp fabric of his jacket. he tasted like rain and warmth and something safe. he hummed against your lips, then whispered something about dinner at his place.

it should’ve stayed that simple.

but then, halfway through your shift, maria stuck her head into the room.

“jesse,” she said, her voice unreadable. “dina needs to speak with you. privately.”

the way she said it made your stomach tighten.

jesse straightened slowly, brushing his hands on his jeans. “where?”

“she’s over by the supply depot,” maria said. her eyes flicked to you, something hesitant in them. “said it’s urgent.”

you didn’t say anything.

jesse looked at you then — really looked — and offered a soft squeeze to your shoulder before stepping out.

he didn’t come back for an hour.

by the time you got to his house that evening, the rain had stopped. the sky was bruised purple, and smoke curled lazily from the chimney.

you knocked once and let yourself in. his place was warm — always a little messy but lived in. you liked it that way. a guitar leaned against the wall, one of ellie’s old drawings pinned to the fridge. your scarf hung on the back of a chair. you’d forgotten it there days ago.

jesse sat at the kitchen table, elbows resting on the wood, head in his hands.

he looked up when you entered.

something in your chest tightened.

you pulled off your coat slowly. “hey… everything okay?”

he didn’t answer at first.

you moved closer, setting your gloves down, brows drawn. “jesse?”

he stood abruptly and walked to you — not urgently, but with that kind of restless energy that made you brace. his hands landed on your arms, grounding you, and his expression was conflicted. kind, but distant.

“i didn’t know how to tell you,” he said quietly.

“what happened?”

his jaw flexed. “it’s… dina.”

your stomach dropped.

“she said she’s pregnant.”

silence. cold. breath caught somewhere in your chest.

you stared at him, unsure if you’d heard correctly.

“she—what?”

jesse exhaled hard, his grip tightening slightly. “she said she didn’t say anything sooner because she didn’t know for sure. she’s a couple months along. she said… i was the last person she was with.”

your thoughts were slow. sticky. refusing to form the right shapes.

“she’s been here. in jackson. this whole time.”

jesse nodded once. “yeah. i didn’t know either. i mean, i saw her around, but… i figured she just wanted space. she didn’t even look at me. until today.”

something cold crawled down your spine.

it wasn’t betrayal. he hadn’t done anything wrong. but still, you couldn’t breathe right.

you took a step back, folding your arms, trying not to show how shaky you were.

“are you sure it’s yours?”

“she’s sure,” he said, quietly. “and i believe her.”

you nodded slowly. once. twice. “okay.”

jesse stepped forward, alarm in his eyes. “hey—no. i don’t want this to change anything between us. i’m with you. that hasn’t changed. i didn’t know.”

you nodded again, tighter this time. “i know.”

“i mean it,” he said, reaching for you. his hand hovered at your waist. “we’ve built something together. i’m not walking away from that.”

you leaned into his touch before your body could betray how sick you felt.

a baby.

dina was pregnant.

and jesse was going to be a father.

you remembered the orchard. the tall grass. that quiet moment when you said you wanted a boy someday. the way he smiled at you and said you’d make a good mom.

you wondered if he still believed that.

or if that dream — the one you barely let yourself whisper aloud — had already come true for someone else.

not you.

her.

“i’m okay,” you said, and it sounded almost convincing.

jesse’s face softened. “you sure?”

you kissed him before he could ask again. just once. just to stop the words.

but deep in your chest, something cracked.

you didn’t cry that night.

you lay in jesse’s bed with his arm around you, your cheek against his shoulder, and listened to the rhythm of his breathing. you studied the pattern of his freckles in the moonlight. counted the beats between heartbeats.

his child. growing in someone else.

you wanted to want to be strong.

but all you could think about was how your first time wouldn’t be his first time. how when your child came — if they ever came — it wouldn’t be something new. something shared. it would be second. a repeat. a retread of footsteps you’d never walked.

you closed your eyes.

and for the first time in a long while, you wished you hadn’t let yourself hope for more.

you didn’t leave him.

not right away.

you stayed, because you loved him — because jesse was kind, and steady, and still looked at you like you hung the stars. and for a while, that was enough to keep the ache from swallowing you whole.

you helped him fix up his place in preparation for the baby. just little things: building shelves, reinforcing the porch railing, collecting blankets that didn’t smell like old mold and leather.

you didn’t go with him to see dina. that was an unspoken agreement. their conversations happened quietly, behind closed doors. jesse always told you afterward — not everything, but enough. you never asked for more.

he said dina was calm. mature about it. that she didn’t want to interfere in his life, or with you. she only wanted what was best for the child.

you believed that.

it didn’t make it easier.

dina never said a cruel word. never glared. never got in your way.

but she didn’t have to.

her presence was enough.

you saw her more often now. brief glimpses — around the greenhouses, at the bartering stalls, in the hallway after patrol meetings. she never approached, but her eyes followed you. not with bitterness.

just... quiet knowing.

and you hated that it made you feel small.

jesse was gentle.

he made tea when your hands were shaking. left notes on your pillow when he had early shifts. made you laugh even when your heart felt bruised.

he’d talk about baby things sometimes — like he didn’t notice the way your body tensed.

“they’re measuring a little ahead,” he told you one night over dinner, stirring stew with the back of his spoon. “dina thinks it’s a boy.”

you nodded, and your throat closed so tight you couldn’t speak.

“she said she’s sure. don’t know how, but… i kind of believe her.”

you smiled. or tried to.

“that’s good,” you said, eyes on your bowl.

jesse reached across the table to touch your hand.

“you’re not saying much.”

you forced a breath. “i’m just tired.”

he watched you for a long moment.

but he didn’t press.

the nightmares came back.

not the kind with blood or clickers or fire — but the quiet ones. dreams of holding a child who never opened his eyes. of standing behind glass, watching jesse with someone else’s family. of telling a boy he wasn’t yours.

you stopped talking about kids.

jesse noticed.

but he didn’t know what to do.

you kept trying. you really did. you helped him sort baby supplies, sat with him when he read parenting books he borrowed from the library, helped repaint a dresser drawer he said might be good for diapers.

you held it together when people smiled at the two of you and said things like “he’s gonna be such a good dad” and “you’ll make a great stepmom.”

you nodded and smiled and bled on the inside.

the worst part?

you were starting to believe that maybe this was your role now.

not mother. not first love. not partner in some new chapter.

just support.

just next.

a few months passed.

dina was showing now. she wore loose clothes, but it was obvious — the slight curve of her stomach, the way she moved slower, how people started offering to carry her baskets.

jesse was with her more often. not alone — not like that — but enough to make your chest ache when you saw them talking outside the food hall. close. familiar. once in love.

he always came home to you.

but you stopped asking what they talked about.

you didn’t want to know.

the night it broke, everything felt too normal.

you and jesse were curled up on the couch. he had his arm around you, warm and steady, thumbing through a well-worn map. you were half-asleep, your head on his shoulder, when he murmured:

“she’s still sure it’s a boy.”

you stilled.

“she said she had a dream,” he continued, smiling faintly. “said he looked just like me.”

you sat up slowly.

he didn’t notice at first. “kind of funny, huh? wonder if he’ll have my stupid hair.”

you stared at him.

your mouth moved before you could stop it.

“i can’t do this.”

jesse’s smile faltered. “what?”

you stood, suddenly too warm, too raw, wrapping your arms around yourself. the room spun a little. you took a shaky breath.

“i thought i could,” you whispered. “i really, really thought i could. but i can’t.”

jesse sat up straighter, alarmed. “hey—hey, what’s going on?”

tears came before words did.

“i can’t be the one who comes second,” you said. “i can’t smile and pretend i’m okay while you’re… while you’re having all of this with someone else.”

jesse stood, moving toward you. “you’re not second—”

“i am,” you cut in, voice cracking. “i’m after. i’m everything that comes after. you’re already doing it, jesse. you’re already becoming a father. you’re getting the firsts. the first son. the first baby. the first experience. and it’s not with me.”

silence.

you tried to breathe.

“i wanted that,” you said, quieter now. “i told you once, remember? that i wanted a boy someday. a messy, loud little kid that looked like you. and you smiled, like it was something we might share.”

jesse’s voice was hoarse. “we still can—”

“but it won’t be first,” you said. “it won’t be ours. you’ll have already done it. and i’ll always know. i’ll always wonder if it compares. if i compare.”

you looked at him, eyes wet and broken.

“i love you,” you said. “i love you so much it hurts. but i’m not strong enough for this. i thought i was. i really tried to be.”

jesse stepped forward, face pale, throat working.

“don’t walk away,” he said, voice shaking. “please.”

you wanted to run into his arms. god, you wanted to forget everything and stay wrapped in his warmth.

but the ache in your chest had grown roots.

and you couldn’t unfeel it.

not anymore.

you didn’t pack much when you left jesse’s place.

a scarf. a few books. the necklace he’d carved for you — a wooden bead shaped like a little star, now tucked in the bottom of your coat pocket like a secret you didn’t have the heart to throw away.

you didn’t move far — just a cabin on the east side of town, near the lookout post. it was smaller, colder, and lonelier than the warmth of his bed and his arms and his steady heartbeat at night. but it was quiet. and you needed quiet now more than anything.

jackson was too small for heartbreak.

people noticed.

they tried not to stare when they passed you in the market, or when you sat alone by the firepit outside the dining hall. but the whispers came anyway.

“did you hear…?”

“she was with him after dina, right?”

“i thought they were solid.”

you hated how much your own name sounded like a question now. like an interruption in a story that had already been written without you.

dina never gloated. never rubbed it in. but you saw her sometimes — out walking slow, one hand cradling her growing belly. jesse was always a few steps away. close, but never touching.

he still looked for you.

every time you crossed paths — every time your eyes met across the yard, or inside the town hall, or at the stables before patrol — he looked at you like someone trying to wake from a bad dream. like if he blinked hard enough, you might still be there.

but you weren’t.

you couldn’t be.

not when your chest still ached every time someone said “the baby.”

not when you still dreamed of a son with jesse’s smile — a dream that now belonged to someone else.

the worst part was that you missed him even in the anger.

even when you tried to build a wall out of everything you’d felt — the jealousy, the loss, the fear of not being enough — some part of you still ached for him in the quiet moments.

when the first snow fell, you thought of how jesse used to race you back to the porch, brushing flakes from your hair and calling you slowpoke with a grin.

when you found a bent nail in the fencepost, you thought of how he always had a spare tucked behind his ear, ready to fix things with those calloused, gentle hands.

when you heard music drifting from ellie’s porch one night, you remembered jesse’s laugh — the sound he made when you pretended to hate his singing, even though you secretly loved every off-key second.

you didn’t go to him.

but god, you missed him.

weeks passed.

spring threatened the edges of the sky, melting the frost from the windows. the smell of wet earth returned.

and then came the letter.

a note, folded twice, slipped under your door.

meet me at the orchard. please. just once.

you stared at it for an hour before moving.

the orchard was just starting to bloom.

not fully, not yet — but the buds were there, small and pink and brave.

jesse stood beneath the same tree where he’d kissed you that first time. the same one where you’d told him you wanted a boy. the same one where he’d said me too.

he looked older now. tired.

but still jesse.

you stopped a few feet away. said nothing.

he spoke first.

“i know i don’t have the right to ask for anything.”

you stared at the bark.

“i just… i wanted to say that i’m sorry. for everything i put you through.”

your throat tightened.

“i didn’t know how much it was hurting you,” he said. “i thought… if i just kept choosing you, that it would be enough. that maybe you wouldn’t feel second. but i get it now.”

you closed your eyes. the wind stirred the branches above.

“i never meant to make you feel replaceable,” jesse whispered. “you never were. you aren’t.”

silence.

when you finally spoke, your voice was softer than you meant it to be.

“i know.”

he stepped forward once.

“i still love you,” he said, simply.

you didn’t answer right away.

because you loved him too.

but love isn’t always enough to heal the parts that broke.

“i believe you,” you said at last. “but i can’t come back. not yet.”

jesse nodded.

“i’ll wait,” he said. “as long as it takes.”

you looked up at him then — this man who had been your warmth, your safety, your home. and for the first time in weeks, you smiled. it hurt, but it was real.

“take care of your son,” you whispered.

he nodded once. “i will.”

you turned and walked away, heart full and empty all at once.

because some stories don’t end with a kiss.

some end beneath a blooming tree, where the ghosts of what could’ve been still linger like petals in the wind.

and maybe, one day, you’d walk this path again.

but not today.

today, you kept walking.

and let yourself mourn the boy you never got to name.

[slashire]

wings

Castiel x fem!reader

The air was thick with smoke and tension, that uncanny stillness just before everything goes wrong. You were crouched low behind the crumbled remains of an old stone altar, shotgun gripped tight in your hands, your breathing shallow and uneven. Sweat clung to the back of your neck, nerves crawling along your skin like static. Castiel was knelt beside you, expression as unreadable as ever, his trench coat dusted with dirt and soot. His blue eyes flicking between you and the clearing ahead, methodical, calculating, always a step ahead, even now.

The hunt had already gone sideways. This was supposed to be simple, nothing fancy. What was supposed to be a routine salt and burn turned into something much darker. A haunting reported in a real worn down abandoned monastery on the edge of town, standard stuff. You, Cas, and dean had split up to cover more ground. Dean had gone to the catacombs below, and you'd taken the ruins above. He stayed close, at your insistence. Something had felt wrong the second you crossed the threshold to where the doors used to be. Too quiet. The air was too cold.

And then you'd found the circle.

Etched beneath the floorboards and hidden beneath layers of rot and filth, it wasn't just some spirts playing field. This was something much, much older. Carved into the stone itself were sigils hidden beneath layers of decay, a summoning circle carved deep into the earth, the scent of blood too fresh. Archaic symbols tangled like a nest of thorns, pulsing faintly with an unnatural green light. The moment Castiel stepped near it, his posture shifted.

The sigils had begun to glow with an eerie, sickly green, pulsing with the rhythmic beat of something alive. You looked over at Cas, trying to steady your voice. “This isn't right.”

He nodded once, jaw clenched. “It's a binding circle. Demonic… but old. Babylonian, maybe older. Someones trying to open a gate.”

Before you could respond, the wind shifted. The trees groaned, the sky above cracked with a low rumble like thunder, but no storm came. Your heart skipped. The circle flared, too fast. The energy surged. Something had been triggered. Like someone had flipped a switch or spilled gasoline over a sacred flame, the ground beneath your feet vibrating with an  otherworldly hum. A sharp, shrieking sound split the air like a scream without a mouth, tearing through the clearing like a blade. The summoning circle cracked wide open, glowing veins spreading across the earth.

“Get back!” he barked, reaching for you.

You tried to step back, but it was too late. The blast was sudden, seismic, a burst of ancient magic that tore through the air with a blinding light. The force of it knocked you off your feet. The energy surged toward you like a wave, faster than your eyes could track.

“Y/N!” Cas shouted, voice edged with something alarmingly close to fear. 

One second you were falling, weightless, the blast about to consume you whole, then strong arms caught you mid air, pulling you into the safety of a chest that radiated warmth and something more, something divine. Castiel’s arms locked around you with a force that was both desperate and precise, and then, wings.

They exploded outward with a gust of wind that sent the smoke spiraling. Massive, celestial, impossibly soft and impossibly strong, they wrapped around you in a single fluid motion. The feathers blocked out the light, the flames, the sounds, everything but Castiel. The pressure of their span, the sound like sails catching the wind. Feathers, massive and soft and indestructible, cocooned around your body just as the fire from the explosion rolled over the treetops. You were encased in him, his warmth, his presence, his power.

Everything outside his wings was chaos. Flame and ash, screaming winds, branches snapping like brittle bones. Heat licked at the edges of his protection, but never touched you. The world was collapsing just beyond the veil of his grace, and all you could hear was the dull thud of your heart, and his voice, low, firm, a prayer in Enochian as he held you tighter.

Inside the shield of his wings, there was silence. Only your heartbeat, ragged and quick, and his, the steady rhythm of a creature older than the world. You could feel the tension in his arms, how tightly he held you, how every muscle in his body fought to keep the world out. His wings trembled at the edges, feathers shuddering with each new shockwave.

He was speaking still, chanting ancient words under his breath, pouring his grace into the space around you like armor. You tilted your head weakly to look up at him, but everything was spinning. Your limbs were numb. Your vision blurred, only catching silvers of blue flaring in his eyes as he focused all of himself on protecting you.

Another hit, stronger. The sigils outside exploded in a ripple of green fire that splashed against the edge of his wings. He grunted softly, and you felt it vibrate through his chest. The force of it slammed into the protective shield of his wings again and again like a tidal wave against a cliff. He gritted his teeth, wings straining to hold. You were limp in his arms now, the last flickers of your consciousness dimming. You heard his voice say your name, sharp, almost panicked. That wasn't like him.

“Stay with me,” he said, tone cracked. The words felt far away. Your head lulled against him, eyelids fluttering. 

But the last thing you saw was the flicker of celestial blue in his eyes as he poured every ounce of power into shielding you. The beat of his wings folding tighter, the warmth of him surrounding you, the pulse of his grace…then darkness.

When the fire finally died down, and the circle burned out, there was nothing but scorched earth and silence. The sigils were gone. The earth cracked and smoldering. The world around was deathly quiet, as if it too was stunned by the force of what had just occurred.

Castiel slowly unfurled his wings.

He was kneeling in the dirt, still holding you. Smoke drifted through the clearing in soft tendrils. His trench coat was torn, the hem burned, blood drying along a cut near his temple, but he didn't care. His wings were scorched at the tips, feathers singed and bent, but intact. The only thing that mattered to him right now was you. 

Your body lay limp in his arms, face slack and pale against the dirt covered fabric of his coat. He shifted to cradle you more securely, one hand pressed gently to the side of your head, the other around your waist, protective even now. He knelt, holding you close, one wing still partially draped over your body. His jaw was clenched, eyes darting over your form for injuries. He brushed a thumb gently against your cheek.

He looked down at you, searching. A flicker of panic, true, human panic, twisted behind his eyes for a split second. “Y/N.” he murmured, voice lower than a breath.

You didn't stir.

“You're safe,’ he said, more to himself than to you. “You're safe.”

He pressed two fingers to your temple. Nothing serious. Healing the worst of what you took, internal bruising, the gash at your shoulder, the shallow brun on your wrist. A concussion. Starin from the magical blow. He could fix that. He would fix that. His hand soft against your forehead as his grace flowed into you in soft pulses, stitching you back together. Still you didn't wake.

Castiel exhaled slowly through his nose, then leaned in, resting his forehead gently against yours. One wing still hung protectively over your shoulder, half sheltering you from the outside world. His voice was almost too soft to hear.

He looked to the sky, jaw tight. “You're not taking her,” he said softly, as if daring something unseen to try. The trees whispered in the breeze. A distant crow cried.

Only once your pulse settled into a steady rhythm beneath his fingers did he finally shift. He pulled you against him again, tighter this time, anchoring you to his chest like he could will you back to consciousness through sheer closeness.

His wings folded once more, curling you both in a soft darkness unmarred by the world's violence. He waited there, unmoving, until you stirred.

And when you finally did, when your lashes fluttered and your fingers twitched against the fabric of his coat, he let off a deep sigh of relief. Then with a flicker of his wings and a low hum of displaced air, he vanished, leaving nothing behind but ash.