#but there's this look in his eyes. guilty almost | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inseobts · 2 days ago

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TRAITOR pt.1

law x traitor!reader

⤳ PART 2

words count: 2.5k

tags: series, enemies to lover(?), traitor reader

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

“You know, you��re not as scary as you pretend to be.”

You lean against the railing of the Polar Tang, the ocean stretching endlessly in front of you. The salty breeze plays with your hair as you glance sideways at Trafalgar Law, whose arms are crossed, golden eyes watching you with something unreadable.

“And you talk too much” he mutters.

You grin “That’s a terrible thing to say to someone who just saved your life.”

Law exhales sharply through his nose, looking away. The recent battle had left him exhausted, and if it weren’t for you stepping in at the last second, things could’ve ended badly for him. You, of course, had taken full advantage of the situation, teasing him ever since.

“I didn’t need saving” he finally says, tone dry.

“Uh-huh.” You tilt your head “That’s why you looked like you were seconds away from getting skewered?”

He glares at you, but there’s no real heat behind it. If anything, there’s curiosity, like he’s still trying to figure you out. You’re a relatively new member of the Heart Pirates, joining just a few months ago. Skilled in combat, intelligent, and surprisingly resourceful, you had quickly earned the respect of the crew. Even Law, who rarely lets people close, had grown used to your presence.

And maybe, just maybe, something more than that.

It starts small.

Casual conversations late at night when neither of you can sleep. Accidental touches, like his hand brushing against yours when passing a scalpel in the infirmary, his shoulder knocking into yours when standing side by side on the deck. You tease him constantly, and though he pretends to be annoyed, you catch the way the corner of his lips twitch, like he’s holding back a smile.

Then, one evening, everything shifts.

“You’re staring” you say, raising an eyebrow.

Law, sitting across from you in his dimly lit office, doesn’t deny it. His gaze is steady, analytical, like he’s trying to see through you. It sends a strange thrill through your chest.

“You’re… different” he finally says.

You blink, caught off guard “Different how?”

“I don’t know yet.” His fingers tap against the wooden desk “But I intend to find out.”

There’s a weight to his words, a quiet intensity that makes your stomach twist. For a second, you almost feel guilty. Almost.

Because if he intends to figure you out, he’s already too late.

Then the first time he kisses you, it’s unexpected.

It happens after a fight, another skirmish with the Marines, another victory for the Heart Pirates. You’re both catching your breath in an alleyway, hidden from sight, when you turn to make some sarcastic remark, only for Law to suddenly grab your wrist and pull you against him.

His lips crash against yours, heated and desperate, like he’s been holding back for too long. And maybe he has.

You don’t hesitate. You kiss him back just as fiercely, fingers tangling in his dark hair, pulling him impossibly close. The world fades, the sounds of battle disappearing until there’s nothing but him, his warmth, his touch, the rapid beat of his heart against your chest.

When he finally pulls away, you’re both breathless.

“That was… unexpected” you murmur.

Law smirks, thumb brushing against your lips “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

You laugh softly, leaning into him “Yeah, well. You’re full of surprises, Captain.”

What you don’t say is that he’s making this too easy.

Time passes, and the relationship deepens. Law isn’t the type to be openly affectionate, but you learn to read between the lines. The way he always makes sure you’re patched up first after battles, the way his fingers linger a little longer when he touches you. The way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking.

You spend nights tangled together, whispered conversations in the dark. Sometimes, he tells you about his past, about Flevance, about Corazon, about the scars he carries that no one else can see. And you listen, pretending you’re not keeping secrets of your own.

Because this was never supposed to happen.

You were supposed to get close, gain his trust, gather information for them.

But now, with the way he looks at you, with trust, with something dangerously close to love, you start to wonder if you’ve let him get too close.

And if, when the time comes, you’ll be able to do what you were sent here to do.

You don’t realize how deep you’ve fallen until it’s too late.

It’s in the little things, how your heart beats just a little faster when Law smirks at you, how you find yourself looking for him in a room even when there’s no reason to. How you never pull away when his touch lingers longer than necessary.

You tell yourself it’s part of the act. That getting close to him is necessary, that earning his trust is just a step toward your real goal.

But then there are nights like this.

“You should sleep.”

Law’s voice is quiet, but firm. He’s leaning against the doorframe of the Polar Tang’s infirmary, arms crossed, watching you with a look that’s somewhere between amused and concerned.

You roll your eyes but don’t stop what you’re doing, patching up one of the crew’s minor wounds “I’ll sleep when I’m done.”

“You said that three hours ago.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow “And you’re one to talk? When was the last time you slept, Captain?”

Law sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose “That’s not the point.”

You smile, shaking your head as you finish tying off the bandage. When you straighten up, Law is still watching you. His expression has softened... just a little.

“What?” you ask.

“You take care of them.” His voice is quieter now, more thoughtful. “Like you’ve been here forever.”

Your breath catches.

Because that’s not true. You haven’t been here forever. You’re not one of them.

You force a grin, nudging his arm playfully “Well, someone has to. You’re a terrible doctor when it comes to yourself. So I help if it means you can rest”

Law scoffs, but there’s no real irritation behind it. Then, to your surprise, he reaches out, fingers brushing lightly against your wrist before curling around it. It’s a simple touch, but it makes your stomach flip.

“You’re overworking yourself,” he murmurs.

And maybe it’s the exhaustion, or the dim lighting, or the way his fingers feel warm against your skin—but you don’t pull away.

“Maybe,” you admit “But you worry too much.”

Law doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his thumb traces a slow circle against the inside of your wrist, sending a shiver up your spine.

“I can’t help it” he finally says.

The words are soft, almost like he didn’t mean to say them out loud.

And that’s when you realize, he’s not just saying it as your captain.

He’s saying it as himself. As Law.

As the man who, against all odds, has started to care for you.

It only gets worse from there.

You’re not sure when it happens, when you stop thinking of this as a mission and start thinking of it as home.

The Heart Pirates are chaotic, loud, and ridiculous. But they’re also kind. Loyal. They treat you like family. Like you belong.

And Law—

Law lets you see pieces of him that no one else does. The quiet moments, the rare, unguarded smiles. The way he lets his walls down, just enough, when it’s only the two of you.

And you know, deep down, that this is dangerous. That you shouldn’t be letting yourself feel this much.

But then there are nights when you’re lying next to him, tangled in warm sheets, his heartbeat steady beneath your palm. When he lets out a soft sigh and pulls you closer, half-asleep, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

And in those moments, it’s easy to forget.

To pretend this is real.

That you’re not a liar.

That you’re not here for all the wrong reasons.

But the truth is always waiting.

And one day, when he looks at you with nothing but trust in his eyes, you’ll have to tell him.

Or worse—he’ll find out on his own.

And when that day comes…

You don’t know if you’ll be able to handle the way he’ll look at you then.

Life on the Polar Tang has a rhythm. A steady, comforting chaos that you’ve come to know well.

Days are spent navigating treacherous waters, dodging Marines, and patching up injuries after yet another reckless skirmish. Nights, though, are when things slow down. When the crew unwinds, when laughter echoes through the submarine’s halls, when Law finally lets himself breathe.

It’s on one of these nights that you find yourself in the middle of a full-blown disaster.

“Bepo, put that down—”

A crash. A shout. Penguin howling with laughter as Shachi dives for cover.

The common area of the Polar Tang is in complete chaos. Empty plates and bowls are scattered across the table, remnants of what was supposed to be a peaceful dinner. Bepo is standing in the middle of it all, guilty and frozen, holding what used to be a perfectly intact chair. Now, it’s nothing but splintered wood and regret.

“I barely touched it!” Bepo insists, ears flattened against his head.

“You threw it,” Ikkaku deadpans.

“It was an accident!”

Shachi, still hiding behind the couch, snickers “I told you he doesn’t know his own strength.”

“You made him arm wrestle the table...” you point out, exasperated.

“Okay, but in my defense—”

“Room.”

The entire room freezes.

Law is standing in the doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable. A slow, heavy silence settles over the crew. Bepo still has the broken chair in his hands. Shachi is half-hidden, looking like he’s about to bolt.

And then there’s you, sitting cross-legged on the couch, watching the disaster unfold with barely concealed amusement.

Law’s gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the mess, the guilty faces, the sheer absurdity of whatever just happened. He exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Do I even want to know?” he mutters.

“No,” you answer immediately “Definitely not.”

Law looks at you, unimpressed.

Penguin clears his throat “Uh, so, funny story—”

“No stories,” Law interrupts, already done with everyone’s nonsense. “Bepo, clean this up. The rest of you—figure out how to replace that chair. And if I hear one more crash tonight, I’m throwing all of you overboard.”

A collective groan echoes through the room, but no one dares argue.

As the crew reluctantly begins cleaning up, you watch Law turn to leave, only for him to hesitate, then glance at you. His brow furrows slightly, as if debating something. Then, after a moment, he jerks his head toward the door.

“Come with me.”

You blink “Uh, am I in trouble?”

His lips twitch, just barely “Not yet.”

You follow him to his quarters, where the air is quieter, calmer. Law shuts the door behind you, then leans against the desk, arms crossed.

“You looked entertained back there,” he remarks.

You smirk “Oh, I was. That was the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”

Law shakes his head, exhaling through his nose “They’re impossible.”

“They’re yours.”

His gaze flickers to you, something unreadable in his expression. You don’t think much of your words, you meant them as a joke, nothing more.

But for a split second, something shifts.

You see it in the way his fingers tighten slightly against his arm. In the way his golden eyes linger on you, searching.

And for the first time, you wonder... does he think of you as his, too?

The thought is dangerous.

You push it aside, grinning instead “So, what do you need me for, Captain? Because if it’s paperwork, I—”

Law rolls his eyes before you can even finish “Shut up.”

And then, quicker than you expect, he reaches out, fingers curling around your wrist, tugging you forward. It’s not forceful, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch, to send a rush of warmth through you.

His hands are always cold, but his touch is steady. Solid.

“Stay here” he murmurs.

You don’t answer right away. Because you know that if you stay now, it’ll only get harder to leave later.

But when he looks at you like that... like he’s choosing you, again and again.

You can’t bring yourself to say no.

You don’t pull away.

Law’s fingers are still wrapped around your wrist, his touch firm but not forceful. You’re close enough to hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, the quiet hum of the submarine around you.

He doesn’t say anything else—just watches you, waiting.

You swallow “You’re being weird.”

His brow twitches “You’re the one staring at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re debating something.”

Your heart skips a beat.

Because, of course, you are.

You’ve been debating it for weeks now, maybe even months. How much of this is real? How much of this is an act? And most terrifying of all... are you the one being played?

Because the way Law looks at you sometimes, with quiet intensity, with something dangerously close to trust, it makes you feel like a terrible person.

And yet, here you are, standing in his quarters, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist, not moving away.

“I was just thinking,” you say finally, keeping your voice light “That you’re kind of clingy.”

Law scoffs and immediately drops your wrist “Forget it. Get out.”

You laugh, catching his hand before he can fully pull away. His eyes snap to yours, slightly surprised, but he doesn’t stop you when you lace your fingers together.

“I’m joking,” you murmur, voice softer now “I don’t mind.”

Law exhales slowly, like he’s trying to decide whether or not you’re messing with him again.

“…You’re exhausting,” he mutters.

“You like it.”

“I tolerate it.”

You smirk “Same thing.”

His lips twitch, just barely, before he tugs on your hand, pulling you toward the bed. You go without resistance, letting him sit on the edge while you stand between his knees, still holding his hand.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

Then, quietly, he says, “You don’t have to keep proving yourself, you know.”

The words hit you harder than they should.

You blink “What?”

“You act like you have something to prove,” he says, tilting his head slightly “Like you need to earn your place here. But you already have.”

Your stomach twists.

Because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that this entire thing is a lie, that you shouldn’t have a place here, that—

“Hey.” His voice is softer now. His free hand reaches up, fingertips barely brushing your hip “Did I say something wrong?”

You force a laugh, shaking your head “No, no. Just surprised you’re saying something nice for once.”

Law rolls his eyes, but there’s no real annoyance there.

“I say nice things,” he mutters.

You smirk “Name three.”

He pauses.

Then, after a moment, he says, “You’re competent.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“You’re reliable.”

“Still sounds like a job review.”

He sighs, giving you a dry look “You’re annoying, but I don’t hate it.”

Your smirk widens “Aww, Captain. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He huffs, but his hand tightens slightly around yours, thumb brushing against your knuckles.

You don’t know what you’re doing anymore.

You don’t know if this is still part of the plan, or if you’re just falling into something you can’t escape from.

But for now, in this quiet space, with his fingers laced with yours and his golden eyes watching you like you matter...

You let yourself pretend.

Just a little longer.

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moonlight-alexia · 3 days ago

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Starfish and Caitlin comforting Katie after the lose to Slovenia on Facetime.

not really posting/writing atm but i couldn't not do this one <3 so pls enjoy i really hope you do

any and all feedback, comments, reblogs etc are very appreciated and welcome <3

gentle connection ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

‘Mammy!’ You exclaimed when you saw your mammy’s face through the screen of your mummy’s phone. You were on camp with your mummy and you tried to talk to your mammy whenever you got the chance. But mostly you were out like a light from running around with Harper and the other Australia girls all day.

‘Starfish, inside voice remember,’ Your mummy reminded you, you hadn’t had a big day like the last few so you were excited that you were able to talk to your mammy.

Caitlin had called Katie a bit earlier while Alanna and Kyra were distracting you so your mummy could comfort your mammy a little. They were both lucky, you understood emotions and what other people needed often but sometimes they still need those moments just the two of them.

‘Hi mammy,’ You whispered, giving a little wave to Katie who was on the other side of the phone.

‘Hi my little Starfish,’ Katie smiled softly, giving you a little wave back. Seeing you, even if it was through a screen, made Katie’s day a lot better. Your mammy, not that she would really admit it, had been missing you a bit more this camp. A lot for her to adjust to and if it wasn’t for Australia’s kit debut, you would’ve been there with her instead. Something that Caitlin now felt a little guilty about now after seeing how deflated Katie was.

You sat in your mummy’s lap, her arms wrapped around your waist while you happily talked your mammy’s ear off. It wasn’t often Katie was this quiet, but she was more than happy to listen to everything you’d been up to right now. The first time you’d been away from your mammy where you’d barely been able to talk to her, and listening to you talk, the familiarity helped your mammy.

‘I’m having lots of fun mammy, but I miss you and counting down the days til ‘m home with you,’ Your voice trailed off, you were observant, your mums knew that but they often forgot just how observant and in tune with others you were, that it might become a problem for you later on.

But now, you gave your mammy a small smile while she told you how much she misses you and can’t wait til you’re all home again, ‘Mummy,’ Your voice cut through the little silence that had floated between the three of you, you turned your head looking at Caitlin. Your mummy hummed a little in acknowledgment, ‘Can I talk to mammy, just me and mammy please,’

Caitlin smiled and placed you down in the middle of the bed, making sure you were all comfy against the pillows. There used to be times Caitlin would feel a tinge of insecurity if you’d want to just talk to your mammy. Perfectly normal, not feeling like she was integrating well into yours and Katie’s dynamic, but she was long over that and enjoyed seeing that bond you had with your mammy, ‘I’ll be right across with Kenzie if you need me,’

Your mummy placed a kiss against your forehead before leaving you and your mammy alone. You yawned a little, Katie almost jumping in to suggest you having a little sleep while she stayed on the phone with you, but your voice stopped her before she could say anything, ‘Mummy said you might be a bit sad, you’re more quiet,’

Katie gave you a small smile, they tried to be as open with their feelings with you in hopes that when you’d feel safe enough to talk to them about your feelings, ‘It’s been a hard day Starfish. A big loss but seeing you now makes it all better,’

Your little eyebrows furrowed while you were thinking, ‘Y’know mammy, mummy lost big too. Yous are the same!’ Katie smiled, a little laugh at the way your eyes lit up when you’d made the connection. Your mummy’s games hadn’t been going all that well either.

‘I guess we are, aren’t we,’ You were happy that you could get a little laugh from your mammy, your efforts to comfort her you believed to have succeeded. You tried to not think too much so you wouldn’t accidentally frown and worry your mammy, but you were starting to realise how hard it was when you were away from either of your mums when they were upset. Wishing they could be happy all the time and never sad.

‘Gonna give you a hug mammy,’ You held the phone against your chest. Katie smiled and, even though you couldn’t see, she held her phone against her chest. To anyone else it might seem strange but to Katie it was really comforting, even though the slight ache in her chest wishing that it was real.

‘I love you Starfish, you give the best hugs,’ Soon enough you’d be home and able to give your mammy a real hug.

#woso x reader #katie mccabe x reader #caitlin foord x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso community #katie mccabe imagine #katie mccabe #caitlin foord imagine #caitlin foord #auswnt #auswnt x reader #irewnt #ireland wnt

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juustokaku · 3 days ago

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Candy Crush - Wooyoung x f!reader

Summary: Sure, all those lollipops Wooyoung had stolen from you tasted sweet, but would you taste even sweeter? Genre: smut (MDNI) Pairings: bully!sub!Wooyoung x f!reader Tags/Warnings: SMUT, sub!wooyoung, mean dom!reader, cunnilingus, penetration, unprotected sex, slight jealousy, wooyoung is mean at the start, recording with a camera, breeding kink (?), name calling, wooyoung is kinda in love with the reader A/N: This turned out longer than I wanted it to be :,) I hope this will tickle someone's fancy! Word count: 3 560 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Lollipops. They were Wooyoung’s favorite to steal. Almost sickeningly sweet and easy for tongue; he wondered if your lips would taste the same.

When he had been 10 years old, he hadn’t thought much about it. He had just wanted to elicit reactions out of you; it entertained him how your face turned the shade of the strawberry lollipop he had just stolen from you. Your tears had always been enjoyable to him, but a few years ago they had started to excite him in a different way.

A part of him felt guilty about bullying you; stealing candy had turned to humiliating you in the school corridors and spreading rumors about you being a whore – it was his way to make sure other people would stay away from you, leaving him as the only person who could ever love you.

The hallway wasn’t devoid of people, but you were alone once again. Not even fuckboys wanted to get acquainted with you – pretty insulting, huh?

“At this point, you must be doing this on purpose,” Wooyoung chuckled as his steps led to you. He really acted like he owned the school – and you.

An angry frown settled on your face as you noticed him staring at your candy bag. Despite Wooyoung always stealing your treats, you couldn’t stop the bad habit of bringing them to school. Maybe your subconscious mind did it on purpose, wanting a reason to talk to him.

“These candies are not for you,” you huffed.

“Then who are they for? You shouldn’t eat them by yourself,” Wooyoung grinned as he saw you tighten your grip on the bag, ��I still remember how you threw up on recess when we were 11 years old.”

“They’re for a friend.”

Wooyoung clenched his white teeth together. It couldn’t be possible for you to have a friend, after he had lied to the whole school about your supposedly wild sex life. However, he had to force his anger down.

“Are you going to bribe her into being your friend with candy?” Wooyoung’s smirk was infuriating. A brow he had raised arrogantly was not an unusual sight; he loved to make you doubt yourself.

“It’s a ‘him’. And I have not bribed him with candy, sex, or anything,” you said.

Jealousy flashed through Wooyoung’s chest; he had thought he had isolated you properly, but of course, there had to be someone who tried to whisk you away.

“You’re definitely not going to bribe him with sex.”

“Are you jealous?” you couldn’t resist teasing him.

“Are you delusional? I meant you’re not able to bribe anyone with sex when you look like that,” Wooyoung scoffed.

You had grown used to his cruel comments years ago already, but the sting was still there. Not wanting to see his triumphant grin, you looked away.

Watching the tears prickle your eyes, Wooyoung couldn’t help the pang of guilt shooting through him. Yes, he loved how easily he could force your emotions on the surface; you looked so beautiful with your puffy eyes, but when was the last time you had smiled at him? Probably not even once after the day he first stole your lollipop in elementary school.

“Good job, asshat. Are you proud of yourself now?”

You and Wooyoung turned to the sound of someone speaking and walking towards you. To your relief and Wooyoung’s annoyance, a man named San approached the two of you. Despite being fairly young, he was big and buff – a perfect friend to protect you from Wooyoung.

“San. So, you are Y/N’s new friend, huh?” Wooyoung raised his brows in disbelief.

The taller man didn’t even spare a glance at Wooyoung. His hands were busy wiping your tears and eyes shining a gentle light. Wooyoung’s blood was boiling as he watched how you took in all of San’s soothing touches and calming, quiet words.

“You do know she’s a slut, right? Or are you her friend because of that?”

San couldn’t have cared less about what Wooyoung had to say about you. He shot a glare at Wooyoung before wrapping a strong, comforting arm around your shoulder.

Hands clenched into fists, Wooyoung watched the two of you walk away. In his imagination, he was ripping San into shreds. San who was now sucking on a lollipop you just offered him willingly. San who you hadn’t known for long but liked more than you liked Wooyoung.

Before San could get his chance to sweep you off your feet, Wooyoung had to make his move. Instead of sucking on stolen lollipops he would switch to sucking on your clit. And he’d do it with a smile on his face.

After school, Wooyoung saw his chance and took it. Given that he had spread rumors about you, it was easy to catch you walking alone when the school grounds were finally devoid of students. No-one wanted to get associated with you – no-one except for San apparently.

Wooyoung found you at the lockers. There didn’t seem to be any people nearby, and he knew that he would have to act before San did. Besides, he had grown frustrated at jerking off every night; the mere thought of you forced his hand to wander to his growing erection. Ragged breaths and whispers of your name would slip past his lips as he stroked his length up and down. It never took long for him to come all over his stomach.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you.”

You recognized Wooyoung by just his voice; how could you not, when you had had to listen to his mocking laugh and annoying remarks for years already? You didn’t care to turn around to face him.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

Despite his usual domineering attitude, he couldn’t help but admit to himself reluctantly: it was hot how you ignored him. You weren’t focusing on him, and it made him embarrassed. It was unusual of you to act like that.

“So, you’re getting cocky now that you finally have a friend? Are you going to whore yourself out to him too?”

When he saw you slam the locker door close, he had thought you’d finally acknowledge him; instead, he watched your hips sway as you walked away from without even sparing a glance at him. Wooyoung felt his cock twitch, waking up at the way you had ignored him completely. He didn’t know whether to feel livid or lustful. All he knew was that he needed you now in any way possible.

You heard footsteps following behind, obviously belonging to Wooyoung. Though him grabbing your wrist was not what you had expected. Although he tried to seem in control, his hand was shaking from desire and anticipation as he shoved you inside an empty classroom.

You were close to falling on the floor as you stumbled from the force of Wooyoung’s push. The slam of the door and looming presence behind you indicated he had trapped the both of you inside.

“Wooyoung, what the fuck?” you snapped at him.

His response was unexpected yet somehow predicted; desperate to feel you, he pulled you into a kiss, his grip tight on your waist but gently holding your head.

When you started kissing him back almost immediately, he felt like his heart would burst from unexplainable, intense emotions. He was drunken on the feeling of touching you, knowing that you wanted him back. Maybe not as much as he wanted you, but it was practically impossible after all to match the extent of the desire he had for you.

Your lips on his was all that he thought he had hoped for but now he was growing hungry for more. It wasn’t enough. The kiss had been passionate from the start, but it turned greedy and almost desperate in Wooyoung’s case. When you slipped your tongue in, exploring his mouth skillfully, a whimper he had tried to hold back escaped past his lips.

At the sound, you pulled away, leaving Wooyoung whining.

“I didn’t know you were this desperate for me,” you whispered.

A shiver ran up his spine. He could feel his control slipping away in a way he had thought impossible.

“O-Only for you.”

“So, what did you want to talk about?” your finger tracing his sharp jawline.

Wooyoung’s mind was blank, fuzzy from your heavenly touch. It didn’t even matter anymore what he had wanted to talk about earlier; all he wanted now was your puffy, pink clit against his lips and your hands tugging at his black hair until his scalp hurt.

“You can’t remember? That’s actually pathetic,” you cooed mockingly, “Just kissing me got you rock hard.”

Wooyoung glanced down at his pants which had an obvious tent hiding his cock. It even twitched at your degrading words, and he was happy you couldn’t see that through the fabric. He had never expected to find the way you spoke to him arousing. Despite that, he had gotten harder than ever in a record-breaking speed.

“Need you. N-Need to be inside you,” Wooyoung whined, cursing at himself in his mind for sounding so pitiful. No-one else had ever affected him like that, made him submit by just a few words.

“You have to earn it.”

“How? Please, Y/N...”

As you walked to the teacher’s desk, Wooyoung followed you quickly. He was ready to do anything just to get to stuff you full, to feel your warm pussy squeeze and milk his cock dry.

“Eat me out,” you commanded.

Wooyoung had been waiting for this moment for too many years of his life. Your lips, which were indeed sweeter than all the lollipops, had finally given him the permission he thought he’d never receive.

You watched his biceps flex as he lifted you up on the desk. Wooyoung pushed you to lie down, the gentleness in his moves contrasting the roughness of his earlier words and actions which had completely disappeared now.

His trembling hands reached to take off your skirt, but your firm voice was enough to stop him in his tracks.

“Wait.”

You took out your phone from the pocket of your hoodie. Wooyoung’s expression turned confused as the phone camera was suddenly directed at him – yet he couldn’t deny the excitement.

“I’m going to film you, and you’re going to do what I say.”

His eyes widened slightly at your words, kind of having had suspected it but never had expected it. Still, he didn’t even hesitate.

“What should I do?”

“Take off my panties. The skirt stays on.”

A pout formed on Wooyoung’s lips. It was all so new to see him this way, all whiny and needy; it was new to him as well. He had never thought he’d react this way to someone taking control over him.

“But I want to see you wholly!”

You let out a short chuckle. The way it felt more like degrading amusement than of sympathy made Wooyoung almost whimper. You had brought a whole new side out of him that just needed your attention and praises.

“Too bad. Now get to work.”

Your back was against the desk, and Wooyoung lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders as he crouched down, facing your core now. Only thing separating him from the meal he had dreamed of for years was your lace panties. They stuck to your pussy deliciously, and Wooyoung brushed his fingers against them. The damp fabric was a clear sign of your arousal, and he felt more blood pump to his painfully hard cock.

His thumb found your clit surprisingly quick and started rubbing circles on it. The small moans that escaped your mouth mesmerized him; they were even prettier than he had imagined. Only complaint Wooyoung had was that they were too quiet. He needed to make them louder so that he’d never forget them.

As he slid off your panties, you hissed at the feeling of the cool air hitting your sensitive clit. However, you didn’t have to suffer for long, because Wooyoung started warming it up. His hot tongue against your pussy, his face half-hidden under your miniskirt.

Wooyoung really succeeded in making your moans sound even sweeter. It felt like he was sending the tiniest electric shocks to your clit, every flick and lick of his tongue making your lower half burn with desire. For so many years he had been starving for your pussy, to have it in every way possible.

“So good...” you approved, sounding a little too desperate to your liking.

The way Wooyoung whimpered in response, how it sent vibrations on your core... It made you clench around nothing. You were already wet for him, ready for his cock which had occupied your fantasies for so many nights.

“Y/N, p-please, let me fuck you. Let me cum inside you,” Wooyoung’s high-pitched voice accompanied the wet sounds of him eating you out.

The faint ticking of a wall clock caught your attention as you were considering Wooyoung’s plead. It was just a minute to five o’clock; how fun would it be to challenge the desperate man between your legs a little?

“Make me cum in a minute and I’ll let you have me in any way you want.”

Wooyoung wasted no time; he grabbed your thighs in a bruising grip to keep you from shifting away every time you got close. Clearly, he could feel the way they trembled, because his moans started getting more frequent.

“W-Woo, you have 30 seconds left.”

He wrapped his lips around your puffy clit and sucked on it harshly, making both your heart and pussy flutter. The video footage you’d have of this wouldn’t win any Oscars; your shaky hands couldn’t keep the phone stable and straight. And maybe material this pornographic wouldn’t pass as an appropriate candidate anyways.

As your hips started bucking involuntarily, Wooyoung held onto you tighter, his tongue working even harder. It didn’t take long for him to get what he desired; your cry of pleasure echoed in the classroom. From now on, the sound would ring in Wooyoung’s ears every time he thought about you.

He didn’t stop, just continuing to lap at your juices until you were overstimulated and your core beginning to feel like on fire.

“Hey, stop it! You succeeded already,” you pushed Wooyoung away with your foot.

He let out a pathetic whimper. How could he go back to eating normal meals after tasting the heaven between your thighs?

“Look at the camera.”

Wooyoung raised his gaze from your core to the phone shoved up in his face. Your phone case looked so innocent, baby pink and cute, a stark contrast to how you actually were. For so long Wooyoung had lied to everyone about you being a whore, but now he was the one acting like a bitch in heat.

“Tell everyone how I taste like.”

“S-So good. So sweet,” Wooyoung licked your juices off his lips.

“Good boy. You’ll get your reward now,” you said, a mockery of being truly proud of him.

Wooyoung’s hands immediately started working on the zipper of his pants that felt almost suffocatingly tight around his lower area. You chuckled, watching how he had trouble getting his cock out due to how his hands were trembling in excitement.

Finally, it sprung out, standing tall. Prominent veins were adorning it – a pretty sight indeed. Maybe someday you’d grant him the permission to fuck your warm throat, but that was for later when he would have learned his place properly.

Wooyoung jerked his hand on his cock, the tip of it almost as red as his flushed cheeks. A glint of hunger in his hazy eyes focused on your face before they fell on your chest.

“Get inside my cunt already,” you demanded, “before I get bored.”

Wooyoung immediately snapped out of his thoughts, scared you’d take his rights to your pussy away, and guided his painfully hard cock to your core. He slid inside easily, and he could swear that he almost painted your walls white the moment your warmth enveloped him.

“Fuck, f-fuck...” he groaned out, fighting back the primal urge to ram into you like an animal.

Your pussy was soothing yet like a slap on the face for how intense it felt. Better than his hand, better than anyone he’s ever touched, better than he had ever imagined.

Wooyoung grabbed your hips. His grip was tight; he was so lost in the pleasure that he had forgotten to be gentle. But luckily you wanted it rough.

He started moving his hips slowly, every thrust threatening to make him cum early. You had had bigger ones than Wooyoung was, but the way he whimpered desperately was unlike anything you had seen before.

As Wooyoung adjusted to the feeling of your pussy squeezing him tight, his hips started working faster, almost like they had the mind of their own. He could get used to this; used but never bored.

“Please, can I see them?”

You wondered what Wooyoung meant with his breathy request, “What do you want to see?”

“Your tits. P-Pretty please,” he looked into your eyes, desperate like he was starving for even a glimpse.

He had been fully expecting for a nice bra to cover your chest, but when he saw you lift your shirt and reveal your bare tits, it surprised him pleasantly. A gasp of pleasure slipped past your lips as Wooyoung’s latched onto one of your nipples, providing great pressure as he sucked on it. You couldn’t decide if it was painful or pleasurable – those two could exist at the same time, right?

He thrusted into you in a desperate manner, his hips stuttering and the rhythm unsteady.

“I-I want you so – fuck – so bad...”

You tried to scoff but the sound came out as something between a moan and a huff of air.

“You have me, you ungrateful brat. Is t-this not enough?”

Wooyoung cried out, fondling with your breasts, holding onto them like a lifeline.

“It is, it is! But I want to cum inside. Let me put a baby in you.”

Involuntarily, your cunt clenched around Wooyoung’s cock which made him gasp. He tried so hard not to cum already, he really wanted to be good for you and for you to unravel for him first.

“Don’t you dare cum yet,” you warned him icily.

Wooyoung’s pace quickened, and his cock threatened to slip out from how wet and tight you were for him. He watched your flushed face in awe, taking a mental picture with his eyes. He would make sure he saw this sight, your pussy swallowing his cock inside, every week, preferably every day, from now on.

You took hold of his black locks and yanked his face closer to you for a kiss. It was wet, and Wooyoung swore he could taste lollipops on your tongue. Unfortunately, it reminded him of the way San had received one from you. That smug bastard could have tainted your lips first.

The need to mark you as his grew stronger. If San ever got even close to your pussy, it would be so full of Wooyoung’s seed, that he’d never be able to fit his cock in. Your pussy was molded for Wooyoung.

As you started moaning his name, he felt the throb on his cock that needed release right now. Despite your command he wouldn’t be able to hold back long anymore.

“P-Please, let me fill you up!.. I’ve been good, h-haven't I?”

He was such a pretty boy already, but desperate whimpers make a man even hotter. You couldn’t deny him when he was ramming inside you roughly yet with a submissive, gentle look on his face, eyebrows furrowed. There was the slightest bit of drool sliding past his parted lips.

“Knock me up, baby,” you moaned breathily.

At your permission, Wooyoung cried out in pleasure as his cum finally shot deep inside you. His legs barely worked, almost failing and letting him fall onto the floor by how intense his orgasm was.

With just a few, last powerful thrusts you came as well with a moan you thought of as humiliating, but Wooyoung would describe as only the most beautiful sound in the world.

He gazed at you with embarrassingly fond eyes, like he had just made love to you romantically instead of fucking with you in an empty classroom. But how could he treat you like shit anymore after getting a taste of his own personal heaven?

“I’m yours,” he whispered.

You just scoffed, humored by the change of tone he used to speak with, “Okay?”

He shouldn’t have gotten hard again by your indifferent words, but he couldn’t help but enjoy the way the girl he had bullied had put him in his place, gotten him wrapped right around her little finger.

Next day at school, Wooyoung felt like all eyes were on him. Whispers and mocking gazes had shifted from you to him. You had shared the video of him eating you out to the whole school. His flushed face coated in your juices, his thirsty whimpers and messy hair; it was all for everyone to see and speculate on. Had Wooyoung paid to have sex with the school’s supposed slut? He hadn’t but he would even sell his parents’ house just to do it again.

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catsoupki · 2 days ago

Text

A WARM SHOWER (1.5K)

pairing - katsuki bakugou x reader

synopsis - bakugou spends his off-day at the cemetery until the sky clears.

cw - pro-hero bakugou, side character death, reader has a quirk, female pronouns, hurt/comfort, reuniting

a/n - sorry for disappearing for so long ... :( school has just been an ass but enjoy this ! i'll try to do sth for 420 too !

taglist - @staraxiaa @hatsukeii @cashmoneyyysstuff i miss u guys sm i hope you're doing well

Bakugou’s feet are firmly planted on the moss-covered concrete, he stares at the tiles, worn down by the weather. When he returns to his upright position, there was a brief window of time when the umbrella on his shoulder couldn’t shield him from the rain. His hair whips like sand in the wind, back and forth with force. He looks at the bouquet of flowers he’s laid down, drenched down to the stem, leaves somehow still attached despite everything. Petals of white, pink and yellow stand out like a sore thumb on the muted grave. Sighing, he doesn’t hear his own voice. He lets his mind meander, and, he briefly wonders how sad you are. It’s been raining non-stop for the past three days, grey clouds never letting the sunshine through, not even for a moment.

He looks back at the tombstone, your last name etched onto gravelly stone, an unexplained sense of heaviness seeps into his eyes. He entertains a guilty, fleeting thought— he’s glad your sister is dead. A child shouldn’t die, he knows that more than anyone else, but the selfish part of him, the unheroic side, is glad that you’re alive. It doesn’t matter, not as much, that you aren’t alive with him. But the fact that you’re existing, out there, outside of a coffin, above the ground, doing something mundane, like going to work and washing the dishes, it instils comfort into him like no other.

Sure, he would have rathered that you went to work with him, or that you did the dishes with him, but the fact that you can keeps his feet on the mossy earth.

He’s bowed thrice by now, and he should be lighting the candles in front of your sister’s tomb next, but the rain prevents him from doing so, let alone the howling wind, sending trees swaying, threatening to tumble down.

He looks at the picture of your smiling sister, a person he’s met twice, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. It’s Wednesday, and it’s his off-day. Why is he spending the time he gets off the clock here servicing you and your sister?

She was a really quiet child, she never screamed or cried, her voice was always soft. Social anxiety had its grip on her from a young age, almost rendering her unfit for public school, but she insisted on going to the same one that you went to. You’d always tell him about the story of her first day in middle school. He had heard that story many times, but he’d listen to you intently as if it were unheard of.

“She gripped onto my dress until she tore a hole through the fabric, it was my favourite one! But she was so scared. I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t leave her behind but I was gonna be late to work. I didn’t want her to get bullied for needing her sister to walk her everywhere, so I settled with a deal. I told her that I’d be there first thing when school finished. And I was! I was the first person in line that day, packed like a damn sardine by the parents, I even had to take a half-day off ‘cause school ends so early apparently. But her toothy grin makes it worth it.”

She never made it to her first day of high school, and you stopped talking about that story after she died. Bakugou wishes that he could’ve had more time to spend with your sister, he wishes that he could’ve been around her more, he wishes that he would’ve been known as her uncle.

This longing for something that never was strangles his heart like Tomura had, regret, rue, wishful thinking. He knows that his next day isn’t guaranteed, not when he’s a hero. The people need Him, the nation needs Him, and they outweighed you. A stupid mistake on his part, and if he could rewind time so he’s standing in your studio apartment again, he would have caught your hand and never let go. His quirk isn’t about time, though, instead it’s about leaving destruction in his wake, reducing the things around him to ruins beyond recognition.

He left because he feared for you whenever his name is scorched onto alleyways by villains out for blood, whenever his moniker is used in conjunction with a threat, an ultimatum that if he doesn’t surrender, they’ll find out where his secret lover is and dismember her limb by limb.

He never lets these scum get close to you, your name, or your family. But it was enough for something in him to awaken. Dynamight isn’t known for His trepidatious nature, He was known for always winning; He is victory reincarnated. But Katsuki was too late, the feelings had long been seeded (so the villain did win, after all), it sprouted, took form until the roots ran long and deep into his beliefs. Ugly, green vines wrapped around his spine until he suffocated, until he had to cede his love to you; unwillingly; involuntarily;

In his head, he had begged you to shout at him angrily, to scratch at him with ferocity, and maybe then his own persuasion to leave you behind would have hurt less. It was morning in that studio apartment, a late one, you lounged in sleepwear as he prepared breakfast. You probably noticed his unease but decided he’d come to you eventually. You sat on the couch, crossed legged. Sunlight danced on your face, eyes bright, vehement, under the golden streaks of warmth. He, back then, had stood in the kitchenette, a space obviously not built for him, too large of a torso, too tall a frame. He didn’t care, before, he would’ve bent down until his back ached and soured if it meant cooking for you. He had stood in the shadows, shy of your light.

This conversation never comes easy, but it’s one that is well rehearsed in the confines of your homes, his agency, and over the phone. He always loses, no matter what you say, objective points, arguments, frustration-fuelled statements, he never gets past you when it starts showing on your face. He tried to look away from you, but your stubbornness keeps him losing. He forfeits when your eyebrows begin to scrunch and your lips pout. He loses, every single time.

You thought that this would be no different. Levity evident in your voice as you danced around the topic, but you hadn’t seen what he saw, you hadn’t heard what he heard. Echoes of that nobody’s warning haunt his everyday life, when he showers, when he eats, and when he sleeps.

He won, but for the first time, he was upset. You fought back with all that you had, threw arguments at him that were impossible to dismantle, insistence bleeding through your hoarse voice, he was on the brink of defeat. But He wins, Dynamight wins.

He leaves destruction in his wake.

It’s been raining non-stop for the past three days, grey clouds never letting the sunshine through, not even for a moment. He’s dedicated enough of his time here, servicing a debt that’s unending, so he calls it a day. Sighing, he doesn’t hear his own apology in the rain. With an umbrella on his shoulder and regret at his throat, he’s going to walk away.

“Katsu?”

The black umbrella in his grip turns obsolete as sunlight filters through a cleared, blue sky. Warmth inundates him.

He looks at the discarded bouquet of flowers on the moss-covered tiles, petals of white, pink and yellow standing out like a sore thumb in a sea of muted colours.

He sees you, the edges of your body smudging in the sunlight, blurred floral patterns on your dress, is he crying?

He doesn’t speak, suppressed by the fear that wraps around him like a noose, maybe his voice would scare the ghost of you away.

Your shoes click against the slippery, moist floor. He wants to tell you be careful, don’t get hurt. Thuds ring in the cemetery, trees still dancing as a slight wind blows. You look bright, vehement, in the streaks of golden light. It took you ten seconds, longer than a century, to reach Bakugou. He closes his eyes. It hurts. It hurts. The world is cruel for playing this joke on him. Regret, rue, wishful thinking. With trembling hands, you reach for his skin, tickling the scars that tell a story bigger than you and him. The wrinkle between his brow settles, “you’re here.”

He says, more so to convince himself, “you’re here.” to will itself into reality. The rain that had poured down on him like salvation is replaced by the intangible sunlight that washes over him like penance. He chases after atonement blindly, wildly, perhaps as a form of Sisyphean punishment for the hurt he had dared slain on you. It doesn’t matter, you’d say, because you’re here, now. You exist, beyond tree roots and above grass, in his arms. With your lips on his and your fingers on him, you're here now, bathing in sunlight, shy of rain. You’re vehement in his grasp.

thank you for reading ! i hope you enjoyed it, all interactions appreciated, have a wonderful day <3

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klausysworld · 3 days ago

Note

Human Highschool Playboy Klaus x Virgin Reader

Reader has a crush, klaus is a player, she is in love he doesn’t care, they have sex (one night stand and he‘s gone in the morning) it’s her first time

Then later e.g: on a party she a little drunk

They talk she cries and tells him it was her first time

He feels guilty and takes care of her

Then they have sex and he’s extra soft

Love your work xoxo❤️

The Softness Within

High School was easy for Klaus Mikaelson.

He could breeze through it with a smirk on his face and a bunch of guys patting him on the back as he made his way through the hall with another girl on his arm, always different from the week before.

For Y/N it was a little more difficult.

People would shove past her, let her stumble into the nearby lockers or purposefully smack the top book from her hands to the floor, laughing as she just watched it slide down the halls that haunted her day after day.

There was only really one thing that she looked forward to each day and that was seeing Klaus.

She knew he probably didn’t even know who she was but he wasn’t cruel to her like other boys were.

He didn’t shove her or tease her. A few times he’d even smiled at her.

It was rare for her to even bother showing up to a party, for some reason she had. Maybe because she actually liked the girl who was throwing it.

But for whatever reason that she was there, she ended up flush against the wall, music blaring as her mouth moved with Klaus’s desperately.

His hands tugged at her dress roughly and she pulled back, a little anxiety in her eyes.

Both Klaus’s hands cupped her face as he pulled her back into a kiss.

“I want you.” He murmured to her, his voice so low that it made her fold almost instantly.

They ended up at her house, Klaus pushing her down into the mattress as he groped roughly at her thighs. It was clear that his body was hungry for her, almost as starved as her heart was for him.

The night wasn’t as blissful as she’d imagined it.

He was a little rougher than she’d have liked for her first time, it stung more than she’d been prepared for. Hurt.

Eventually the ache dulled and it started to feel better, she started to cling to him.

Klaus’s fingers had slipped between her legs whilst his hips rutted to hers.

Her little moans fueled the heat between them until she couldn’t breathe.

Time had somehow crawled and raced by all at once until sleep had taken them both.

When it came time to wake, Klaus must’ve done so long before her for the space where he’d been was already cold.

There was no stopping the tears from slipping down her soft cheeks as she clutched her pillow between her hands.

For the first time in a long time Y/N missed a couple days of school.

Her body was exhausted, her heart humiliated.

Still, eventually she went back to school.

She ignored him in the hall, not that she thought he’d notice her anyways, and made sure not to sit anywhere near him in any classes.

Y/N didn’t plan to go to any party ever again but one of her friends ended up dragging her to one, she was already reluctant so her friend decided not to tell her that it was at Klaus’s house.

She only realised when she bumped into his older brother, he’d scoffed under his breath and muttered about having too many teenagers in his house.

Y/N felt sick in an instant.

Which was how she ended up in his upstairs bathroom, too many people were fucking in the ones downstairs that she had to go to the third floor to be in a quiet room where she could freak out and be sick.

That was how Klaus found her, sobbing over a toilet seat and trembling as the occasional gag shook her body.

“Y/N?” He questioned gently, kneeling down beside her and rubbing her back gently. “Did you drink too much, love? You didn’t take anything right?” He asked with a concerned frown.

Her head shook as she moved back, her back resting against the edge of the bathtub, the coldness making her flinch as she sniffed.

Klaus grabbed some tissue to wipe her mouth and settled in front of her.

His head tilted a little, trying to catch her eyes which were now glued to the floor as her eyes struggled not to let anymore tears fall.

“You need some water, sweetheart?” He asked and she wanted to just say no and walk out but her throat was sore from the crying and retching. He softened when she nodded and disappeared for a minute or two before coming back with a glass of ice cold water.

His arm slipped round her shoulders with ease as he helped the glass into her hands and watched her drink it, mumbling encouragement.

“I’m sorry,” She whimpered, her tears dripping into her water making him wince a little and pull the glass from her. “I didn’t know it was your house- I didn’t even wanna come.” She cried and he frowned, shushing her gently.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong, love? You don’t need to be sorry, I don’t mind you in my house.” He smiled, stroking her back gently. She sniffed and fell silent.

He probably didn’t even remember that they had slept together.

She was probably no good, utterly forgettable.

Klaus watched her expression sadden, a look of hopelessness.

“You didn’t want to see me again.” He realised after a moment. His hand kept rubbing her back, trying to soothe her. “It’s okay, most girls get a little embarrassed after one-night stands. You usually avoid people for a while? That’s okay, I get it.” Klaus nodded, trying to be understanding but it made her cry harder.

“I don’t- I-” She sniffed and choked a little on her words. “I’ve never slept with someone before- I don’t know what I’m doing.”

His entire face shifted at that.

“Oh.” He whispered, nodding slowly.

The deep realisation that he’d taken Y/N’s virginity was one thing but remembering how he’d been that night, it was no wonder that she’d been avoiding him.

“I’m so sorry, love.” He muttered, his arms circling her a little tighter to try to offer solace. “I should have… I should have…” His voice died off as he looked down at her, the stains across her cheeks and the redness in her face made his stomach twist.

“Did I hurt you, Y/N?” He murmured, frowning as he looked her over. The dress she was wearing this time covered her arms too, she didn’t want anybody to see her skin, to see her or touch her. Klaus. It was so Klaus didn’t want her.

“The bruises are gone now.” She mumbled, using the tissue to wipe her eyes and her nose. “It didn’t hurt that much after a bit. I liked some of it, I just didn’t expect…I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I would’ve been gentler if I’d known.”

Klaus sighed to himself, ashamed.

“Come on, at least let me look after you know.” He helped her up and brought her to his room, kissing the top of her head and telling her to sit on her bed.

“You can sleep here tonight, you’ve been drinking. I’ll get you some pajamas, okay?” He pet the top of her head gently.

Klaus couldn’t believe he’d left her room in the night, letting her wake up hurt and alone.

Didn’t even realise she hadn’t been in school until he really had to think about it.

She looked a little stiff when sitting in his bed, in his shirt and the plaid pajama pants he’d gotten at Christmas but never wore. Klaus smiled a little at the sight of her, he knew she wasn’t after the same thing the other girls in his bed had been. She was just upset, hurt and yearning.

Someone should have been looking after her and that night it should have been him so for tonight he’d make up for it.

Klaus got changed in his bathroom, for the first time since he was a kid he put on actual pajama pants, like the ones he gave Y/N, but after consideration decided against wearing a shirt too.

When he stepped back into the room, she was settled under the covers, sniffling quietly.

The heat from his body mingled with hers as he climbed in behind her. His arms gently pulled her away from the edge of the bed and to his chest. She melted quickly, the firmness of his chest felt protective. Klaus helped her roll to face him, guided her face to his bare chest.

“Let me look after you, love.” He murmured, his fingers massaging her head slowly.

“How?” She mumbled sleepily and his lips twitched up.

His head dipped to taste her lips, but this time she pulled away. Klaus nuzzled into her ear gently.

“I want to make you feel good. Let me show you what I should have last time.” He pleaded with her, his hands stroking her back and his arms. Her head nodded subtly and he pressed his lips to hers again, this time being able to savour the feel of her.

So soft and warm.

Klaus rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him with her legs either side of him. His hi;s gently rolled against hers, his hands held onto her waist and rubbed her back slowly.

“You’re so sweet, love.” He muttered to her, pulling his lips from hers and kissing down along her neck and gently sucking to find the spot that made her squirm.

“There it is.” He mumbled when her breath got all cough in her throat and her body pushed back against his. Klaus grazed his teeth over the spot, leaving a dark mark in her skin whilst his hips ground up with a little more need.

The quiet little half sounds she was making weren’t enough for him, he needed her to feel what she deserved.

So he trailed his mouth down, his hands lifting the shirt to reveal the beauty beneath. She was rolled back onto her back, him hovering over her. Both his hands followed the shape of her hips up to her breasts. His thumbs circled her nipples whilst she panted and whined. Her face blushed red and her hands shook as she tried to push his hands down.

“It’s alright love. Just feel it.” He murmured as he gently pinched her, chuckling softly at the way her body arched. “Such a good girl.” He praised, smiling when her pussy rubbed up against him through their clothes in response.

The heat from his mouth on her stomach made her fingers tangle into his curls, following his movements as his head lowered down.

He could hear how fast she was breathing, nervous probably.

Still he tugged the pants back down her legs so he could settle between her thighs. He eyed her core as he kissed along her inner thighs gently, gradually getting rougher and sucking red marks.

A moan of desperation left her when his tongue delved to taste the sweet wetness that had gathered. His mouth nuzzled in, his eyes closing as he teased her clit, his tongue nudging over the hood to encourage her to swell.

“Klaus..” She whimpered, her thighs already shaky. He hummed softly, the vibrations making her squeal and tug on his hair. “I can’t-” She gasped but Klaus only grinned into her as he circled her puffy little bud.

“You’re such a good girl, should’ve done this last time. Just got too desperate to feel you on me.” he mumbled as he lifted his hand to tease her entrance with his forefinger. A loud moan left her when he curled it inside her and he groaned, his other hand going down to slide beneath his pants and soothe himself.

“Ah…” She cried as he grunted into her clit, his lips still sucking her in as he stroked himself teasingly.

Klaus slipped his tongue down to taste as she fell apart, her cum like heaven in his mouth as he squeezed himself.

His body shifted up, mouth leaving a litter of wet marks up her legs as he knelt between them. “So beautiful.” He mumbled, looking down at how her skin glistened as she panted. “I’m gonna take you slower this time, okay?” He nodded to himself, crawling over her.

“W-wait…” She whispered, her skin still flushed and her features anxious.

He looked down at her, a look of understanding in his gaze as he leant down to kiss her cheek.

“It’s okay.” He assured quietly, nuzzling into her jaw. After a moment of listening to her breathing and resting his head down against hers, he felt her nod against him.

“I’m ready now.” She uttered and he nodded back before kissing her lips.

Her body was a little tense as he pushed into her, slowly edging himself in. Klaus needed to keep reminding himself that he needed to take his time for her.

His hips rolled so steadily, giving her time once he rested inside her.

“Are you comfortable, love?” He asked and she nodded, her hands shaky as she reached up to hold onto his back. Her hands lay flat against his shoulder blades, feeling the strength he possessed as they flexed beneath her touch. “I’m gonna move now” He whispered, his brows furrowing as her nails pressed into his skin. Her body fluttered around as he drew his hips back and then forward again.

The whimper that left her made him groan, his hands slid to her hips, trying to pull her closer so he could get as deep into her as possible. “You feel so good.” He mumbled, “You felt good last time, I should have told you. Should’ve worshipped you-”

His words were abruptly cut off as he moaned.

Klaus’s head fell down as her whines filled the room whilst her hips rutted up against his. “I need” She whimpered and he grunted softly.

“I know, sweetheart. Bloody hell you’re desperate.” He groaned faintly and bucked into her. His mouth left a stretch of wetness across her skin, encouraging a pattern of goosebumps whilst her body twitched and tightened with his.

The faint thump of the music merged with the knock of his bed frame against the wall.

Her sounds stroked something inside him, drove him.

Klaus’s head went back, a pant leaving him as he clung to her.

His head nuzzled down against the side of her neck when she clamped down around his cock, effectively bringing him over the edge with her and milking him with every last pump of his hips.

The warmth of her skin stuck to his as she held onto him, he could feel her sweet face damp with tears as he tilted to kiss her forehead. “I’ve got you, love.” He murmured quietly against her hair. “Gonna look after you” He mumbled as he gently pulled out of her and carried her over to his bathroom, flicking his shower on. He kept her in his arms, he could feel her tense as if she thought he might drop her but he knew well enough how strong he was.

Her head rested against the side of his, soft sounds leaving her as his hands cleaned her gently. “Such a good girl.” He mumbled with a small smile. “Relax against me.”

Y/N obeyed with ease, her body exhausted and her heart craving.

The softness he used on her as he dried her off and changed her back into clothes, laid her out in clean blankets and held her in his lap.

“Gonna be here when you wake up okay?” He whispered, cupping her cheek. “Goodnight my love.”

From that day things were different.

Klaus would throw his arm over her shoulders in the hall, his buddies knew not to go shoving her unless they wanted at least one black eye and Y/N felt a whole lot more confident in being herself. She felt safe knowing Klaus was there and that he chose to be there. That he could be gentle even if he sometimes seemed a little rough around the edges.

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andrealol7 · 2 days ago

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the exit

mattheo riddle x reader

inspired by the exit by conan gray

a/n : part 2 is up!!!

————————————————————————

You should’ve known from the beginning.

Mattheo Riddle was never yours. Not really.

He was magnetic, unpredictable, the kind of boy who could ruin you with a glance and make it feel like a privilege. Everyone wanted him—he was darkly charming, effortlessly dangerous, and impossibly out of reach.

And yet, somehow, you had gotten close.

Close enough to be the one he smirked at from across the Great Hall. Close enough that his knuckles grazed yours under the table. Close enough that, in the dead of night, when the castle was quiet and your dormitory felt suffocating, you would find yourself in his bed, tangled in silk sheets and whispered confessions.

You had him.

Or at least, you thought you did.

The night was cold, and the corridors were dimly lit as you walked through them, trying to push down the feeling in your chest.

It was stupid, really. The way you lingered, the way you let yourself believe, even for a second, that this—whatever this was—meant anything to him.

Because Mattheo didn’t do relationships.

He didn’t do love.

And you weren’t supposed to care.

You weren’t supposed to need him like this.

But Merlin, when he looked at you like that—when his hands were on you, when his voice was in your ear, when he made you feel like you were the only person in the world—it was impossible not to want more.

So when you heard about the party, you knew where you would find him.

And you knew, deep down, you shouldn’t go.

But you went anyway.

The Slytherin common room was packed, the air thick with smoke and the scent of firewhiskey. Bodies pressed together, music thrummed through the walls, and in the center of it all—

Mattheo.

He was laughing, leaning back against the couch like he didn’t have a care in the world, a drink dangling from his fingers.

And she was next to him.

You didn’t know her name. Didn’t care. All that mattered was the way she was draped over him, whispering something in his ear, her hands on his chest.

He didn’t push her away.

He didn’t even look uncomfortable.

And that was the part that hurt the most.

Your heart clenched, but you forced yourself to breathe. This wasn’t new. This wasn’t surprising. You knew what Mattheo was like.

You had no right to be hurt.

So why did it feel like you were about to break?

You didn’t know how long you stood there, frozen in place, before his eyes finally landed on you.

And when they did, something flickered across his face.

For a split second, he looked… guilty.

But then, just as quickly, the expression was gone. Replaced by that infuriating smirk, the one he always wore when he wanted to pretend nothing mattered.

When he wanted you to pretend nothing mattered.

Your fists clenched, but you forced yourself to smile—forced yourself to walk past him like you didn’t care.

Like you weren’t falling apart.

You barely made it a few steps before his hand shot out, fingers curling around your wrist.

“Leaving so soon?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was something underneath it. Something almost… desperate.

You yanked your hand away. “What do you care?”

His smirk faltered. “Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” you snapped. “Like someone who actually thought they mattered to you?”

The words hung between you, sharp and unforgiving.

Mattheo’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening. “You do matter.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? Sure doesn’t look like it.”

His lips parted, like he was going to say something else, but you didn’t give him the chance. You turned on your heel, shoving past the crowd, ignoring the way your vision blurred.

Because if you stayed—if you let him look at you like that for a second longer—you knew you would break.

And you refused to let Mattheo Riddle be the one to break you.

You didn’t see Mattheo after that night.

Not for weeks.

You stopped seeking him out in the halls. Stopped waiting for him to show up at your door. Stopped pretending that what you had—whatever it was—had ever been real.

And it was fine. It was good.

Until it wasn’t.

Until you found yourself at another party, another crowded room, another place you shouldn’t have gone to.

And this time, he was the one who saw you first.

You felt it the second his eyes landed on you.

Felt the shift in the air, the weight of his gaze like a burning brand against your skin.

But you didn’t look at him.

You were too busy laughing, fingers trailing over someone else’s arm, a boy you didn’t even know.

And Mattheo?

For the first time since you’d met him—since you had been tangled up in his sheets, since you had whispered secrets into his skin, since you had let yourself love him—

He looked jealous.

He looked wrecked.

And it should have made you feel better.

It should have made you feel like you had won.

But when he crossed the room in three long strides, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into the nearest empty corridor, it didn’t feel like winning at all.

“Let go of me,” you hissed, trying to yank yourself free.

He didn’t.

Instead, he pressed you back against the wall, his breath uneven, his hands shaking. “What the hell are you doing?”

You let out a hollow laugh. “What does it look like?”

His jaw clenched. “It looks like you’re trying to piss me off.”

“Well,” you whispered, tilting your head. “Is it working?”

Something snapped.

His lips crashed against yours, rough and desperate, and suddenly, everything else disappeared.

Your fingers twisted in his hair, pulling him closer, his hands roaming over your body like he was afraid you would disappear.

Like he was trying to memorize you.

And then—just as quickly as it started—it was over.

Mattheo pulled back, chest heaving, eyes searching yours. “Tell me you don’t love me.”

Your breath caught.

Tell me you don’t love me.

It was a demand. A plea.

You opened your mouth, ready to say the words—ready to lie.

But then he whispered, so soft you almost didn’t hear it—

“Because I love you.”

And suddenly, you weren’t so sure you could lie after all.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x fem!reader #hogwarts #slytherin boys #angst #mattheo riddle x reader angst

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accidentcache · 1 day ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

visit italy.

try camping.

learn to cook.

go fishing??

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BUCKET LIST <- masterlist

#𖦹 bucket list #cache money!#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #keigo takami #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks bnha #hawks mha #hawks x reader

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pain-is-forever · 18 hours ago

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Theo almost launches himself at Argo before he suddenly stops and freezes in place. It's almost like he heard something... because he did. He could swear he heard another voice in his head. An all-too-familiar one, one that he would never want to hear again. And the words spoken... He would never want to hear those words from the thing that he heard.

Aww, look at you! Doing exactly what I designed you to do! Finally! You were bound to snap at some point, huh? I'm surprised it didn't fully happen when your sister died, but... oh, this is so entertaining! Keep going, hah! Great job, you're finally doing what I wanted of you!

His mother. No, no it can't be. Why is he hearing her? Is it just his guilty conscience trying to snap him back into reality? It has to be. He can't be hearing his mother right now. He can't be hearing her ever. This isn't real. It's not. He's going to wake up soon, right? Please let this be a dream.

Theo won't be her plaything. He won't serve as her fucked up entertainment service. He can't continue doing this. Why did he become this way? How did it even happen? He can't breathe for a moment, choking on air before he has a coughing fit and starts breathing again because Andrea told him to.

Death Mist dances around his body, not fully surrounding him yet. He's standing there, his eyes slowly stop glowing, even though Andrea is yelling at him to move. Though, if she's yelling, is it really Andrea? He doesn't know anymore. He doesn't recognize her tone at all, even if she sounds scared, it sounds hostile to him.

He does nothing when Argo lunges at him but stares, though the moment he feels the claws on his person, the Death Mist clings to him, as if he were a magnet for it. Because he is. It sticks to his entire being like it's being held by superglue, making his form cloudy, almost impossible to hit. There's very little that can actually touch it, and even then the injury probably wouldn't be as bad as it would if he weren't a literal cloud of Death Mist.

Though, would Argo even see him...? The Death Mist is supposed to mask people from monsters. If Argo isn't Argo anymore, if Argo truly is a monster, then he would not see Theo. He would not be able to see the son of Achlys, hidden from monsters.

°•□Open Starter □•°

I Live Inside You Forever, With Satan Himself By My Side

ANYONE CAN INTERACT

>TW: Unwilling transformation, derealization, loss of bodily autonomy, body mutilization (possibly other things) <

Argo had locked himself in one of the prison cells the moment he felt it start. His wings had somehow.. absorbed back into his body? Making it all the more painful when they burst out again.

Argo lets out a bloodcurdling scream- like millions of souls worth of agony are being channeled through Argo right now.

Argo is wearing a weird outfit; like something an old puppet would wear. Bows. Everywhere. A bow tie, bows on their gloves, and bows on their little socks- and on every individual set of wings.

It would be cute, but the bows sprout into string; tying tightly around their respective areas. Wrists, wings, ankles, neck- and they lead back to an invisible control panel.. somewhere above Argo.

His wings are pure white- but tied back by razored, barbed, wire. So are his facial wings- and the smaller pair of facial wings that sprouted out with the large; actually functional wings.

They make Argo look almost.. angelic- in a biblical way.

Argo looks up, repressing another scream. Their voice already hurts.

They see a person and their face goes deadly pale.

You notice they're missing all their facial scars; like they're wearing a perfect porcelain mask.

The 'mask' which seems to now just be Argo's skin cracks; right where their jawline scar used to be.

Argo tries to move back- but their razor wire restraints prevent that. He almost objects; almost vocalizes- but a stitch comes undone from their neck and that shuts him up really damn quick.

Argo looks like a perfect little angel puppet.

So, what do you do?

taglist (ask to be added or deleted): @orion-the-hunterpt2 @lilacnightshade @pain-is-forever @reyno-solis-real @faceless-bugger @unlicensed-field-medic @the-great-emperor-commodus @the-eclipsed-sun @sophia-hunter-of-artemis @daughter-of-thanatoss

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malk1ns · 2 days ago

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february 25 @ flyers, 6-1 loss

good absolute god, guys. consider trying?

a pathetic game overall, capped off by this vibe and this postgame insight:

no joy in mudville and don't expect much in this fic except for my signature 'overly saccharine ending'. sorry!

Sid and Zhenya’s names are up on the whiteboard for press availability when they troop back into the locker room, stunned silent by the loss.

Zhenya’s heart sinks, but he squares his shoulders and starts plucking off his pads, running through his own game. A giveaway, a losing night in the faceoff dot, no shots on goal—they’re going to rip him apart. He can already picture the headlines—Malkin’s sloppy play costs Penguins another crucial divisional match-up, or maybe Malkin’s effort makes it clear why he should be Russia-bound after the season.

At least he didn’t take a penalty tonight.

“Fuck no,” Sid says from one seat down, but Zhenya ignores him until Sid practically knocks him over on his way to the front of the room.

Zhenya raises an eyebrow when Sid reaches the whiteboard and wipes their names off with his sleeve. He turns and faces the comms people who are hovering nervously at the door and crosses his arms. “G and I aren’t talking to them,” he says, jutting his chin out. “He played fine. I played fine. Neither of us have anything to say. Get someone else to do it.” He stares the staffers down, waiting for a challenge.

None comes. Sid’s one of the most spoiled athletes in North America, but it’s all done preemptively—he rarely asks for anything, especially like this. When he does, people listen.

Sid pauses on his way back to his stall. “Get a move on,” he mutters. “If we’re not on our way out when they let the vultures in, someone will try to stop us.” He raises his voice a little bit, still quiet enough to plausibly still be addressing Zhenya privately but loud enough that the guys near them can hear. “Someone who phoned it in tonight can give them a quote. Not you.”

The atmosphere in the room deflates even further, if that was possible. Zhenya would feel bad, but frankly? He’s sick of it.

They’re rebuilding. Everyone with a brain knows that. Zhenya expected it eventually. He knew it was possible that he’d spend the last years of his career surrounded by journeymen who couldn’t keep up, even as his own footspeed declined. In theory, that didn’t bother him. He did what he came here to do almost 20 years ago; he doesn’t have anything to prove.

In practice, though, the grind of trying to lift spirits and motivate a bench that’s half-composed of players who wilt at the first sign of adversity, who aren’t interested in fighting back, is exhausting. Zhenya’s just had a two-week vacation and he’s already exhausted only three games into this side of break.

Sid, who spent those two weeks playing with and against the best of the best, is practically vibrating with anger.

They make it out of the locker room just as the press is let in, and Zhenya looks over his shoulder on his way out, making eye contact with Yohe. Great. At least Sid’s hot on his heels, practically pushing him out into the hallway; nobody will be able to write that Geno Malkin is dodging the press after a shitty game.

“God damn it,” Sid swears once they’re out of earshot, kicking at a trash can as they make their way out to where the bus is waiting. “Fucking hell, I hate it here. I hate this city, I hate this team.”

“Which one,” Zhenya says drily, and Sid snorts, jamming an elbow into his side.

Normally Sid would scold Zhenya after laughing, too painfully conscious of his own captaincy to not feel guilty over insulting his teammates. The fact that he doesn’t tonight says more than any of Sid’s own words ever could.

Zhenya slides into the second row of the bus, and Sid plops down next to him. They don’t speak on the bus; Zhenya’s answering texts from his mama back in Pittsburgh, and Sid’s thumbs are flying over his phone screen, conducting whatever inscrutable business the face of the league is responsible for no matter the hour. Zhenya used to ask. It was never very interesting.

It’s usually a coin flip if Sid wants Zhenya sitting next to him on the plane. It’s less likely after a bad loss, when Sid prefers to brood and Zhenya spends his pique on the card table, but as they pile onto the plane Sid tugs Zhenya into his row, so Zhenya settles into his chair and avoids eye contact with the rest of the team. Now that he’s had a little distance from the game, he feels a little bad about ditching the media. He’s a leader on this team, and leaders don’t welch on their responsibilities.

Sid does not seem to be similarly burdened. He’s already listing towards Zhenya with his eyes half-closed. Zhenya doesn’t blame him—he’s hurt, and he barely got any rest between Four Nations and the regular season resuming. Zhenya spent hours begging Sid to sit for a game, maybe two, just to give himself time to heal.

Sid refused. Zhenya knew he would. He had to try anyway.

He sneaks his hand under Sid’s plane blanket, resting it on Sid’s thigh and squeezing. Sid grunts and spreads his legs, but Zhenya’s not trying to start anything; he could use with a little comfort, and Sid will never admit it but he could too.

Their days of fooling around on planes are well over, not that they ever did that after heartbreakers like this one even when they were young stupid(er). No, they’d save that type of comfort for at home, tucked away in someone’s bedroom and tangled in each other until the memories faded.

That won’t be the case tonight. They both need sleep; there’s a game Thursday, followed by yet another hellish back-to-back over the weekend.

Zhenya wonders if he should push it. Their sex life has suffered badly this season; between injuries and illnesses and the tension from the rink bleeding into their home life, Zhenya’s getting laid less now than he has his entire adult life. Their house is as likely to be filled with frosty post-argument silence as it is with amorous sighs these days.

Sid snores in his ear the entire short flight back to Pittsburgh, and he’s quiet in the car ride back.

“Should I have extended?” he asks when they’re settled into bed back at home. Zhenya was half-asleep, but Sid’s question snaps him back awake.

“Huh?” he mumbles. “You mean like…not sign here?”

“Not sign,” Sid emphasizes. Zhenya feels him turn on the mattress until they’re facing each other. “Maybe I should have said this would be my last season and hung it up. I mean, we’re not going to be good for years, all I’m doing is take up cap space…” He pats gently over the mattress until he finds Zhenya’s arm. “Maybe the PA won’t flip shit if I say that I want to retire after all if I do it before the new contract kicks in.”

“Stupid,” Zhenya mutters, and Sid’s fingers pinch into his skin. “You’re Penguins, Sid. Like, you’re need to be there for kids, for set example. If you’re keep play hard, guys watch, they learn. Sometimes it’s not work in game, but they see. Plus, what you do? You get bored, come to practice anyway.”

Sid laughs a little, scooting closer. “Probably,” he concedes. “It’s just…at the tournament, watching the way the crowd reacted to Mario…he’s a legend, obviously, but he’s in the past. And I was standing there listening to them cheer for me, and it sounded the same. I’m still playing fine, but I’m turning into a legacy even while I’m still in the league.” He sighs. “I have never felt as old as I did during those games in my whole life. Old, and tired. I probably could have used the break after all.”

“Oh, Sid,” Zhenya whispers, tugging Sid’s shoulder until they’re pressed together. His heart hurts. “You’re most important hockey player for Canada ever, probably. It’s not like…you’re not legacy yet, you’re still play. You’re inspire everyone there. They all talk about how good you do, how much you help. We watch games here while you’re gone and the young guys, all they’re say is how exciting for seeing you play international again.” He squeezes Sid tight to his body, shaking him a little. “Not too old. Old, okay yes, we old now. But too old? No. Not your fault team does this, not your contract’s fault. We try, you try hardest always. Other guys, maybe they don’t. Can’t control.”

Sid sighs, and it sounds watery. When he presses his face to Zhenya’s chest, Zhenya can feel damp soak through his sleep shirt. “Sorry,” he says, garbled through the fabric. “I’m being dumb. I’m tired, and that game sucked, and holy fuck I hate Philly.”

“Game is bad, yes,” Zhenya agrees, running his hands over Sid’s back. “Philly is always suck, yes. But we have twenty more games, try again to play good. It’s okay, Sid. Nobody thinks you’re bad just because of team.”

“It’s probably selfish, huh?” Sid muses, turning his head to the side. “That I care so much about how I look now with the team doing so bad. I never used to.”

Zhenya shrugs. “Allowed to be selfish. You give everything for team, for league. Is okay to want to break records, play well just for you, know that people see. But they do, Sid. Cheers in Montreal, that’s for how you’re play for so long. Not because you’re, like…statue, walking around on the ice again.”

Sid doesn’t reply, but Zhenya can feel his shoulders relax.

“I tell Kyle they put you on your knees for your statue,” Zhenya says, startling Sid into a laugh. “Tell him for goals, but really I want to look at and think of you blowing me. It’s big secret for me, nobody knows.”

“Oh my god,” Sid squawks, slapping at Zhenya’s chest. “You didn’t say that to Kyle.”

Zhenya did. He sent Kyle a half-dozen goal videos of Sid dropping to a knee to score; his signature pose, the one he hits when the other goalie has no chance.

He didn’t say anything about the blowjobs, obviously.

“Well, I’m going to tell him that your statue should be of…of…” Sid trails off.

Zhenya gives him a minute before shaking his head. “Sidney, Sidney,” he says, pouring as much mock-concern into his voice as he can. “Too tired for dirty joke? Can’t think of even one thing? Maybe you retire after all. Too old to keep up.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Sid says, but his voice is light.

Leading a team like the 24-25 Pittsburgh Penguins might be hard, Zhenya thinks as they finally drift off, but leading Sidney Crosby out of his down-moods is easy. Then again, he’s got almost fifteen years of firsthand experience.

#sidgeno #hockey rpf #my writing #my fic #24-25 series

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milkistar · 2 days ago

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𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔. ⊹ ˚ 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐

can you take this spike? will it wash away this jet black, now? [ . . . ] please save my soul. [ . . . ]

i'll never let them hurt you, not tonight.

⤹ you can find pt. 1 › here.

you were sent on a mission to hunt a dangerous vampire, but when you finally find him, he’s nothing like the monster you expected - he doesn’t fit the stories you were told.

★:: sunghoon (enhypen) x reader. tags:: gn reader, vampire au, reader should kill the vampire but guess what, blood, mentions of violence, mentions of murder.

you stayed in the church for an hour after sunrise. you knew that vampires couldn’t tolerate sunlight, so they had already disappeared from the forest for a while, but you wanted to be sure you wouldn’t run into any of them; after all, you were unarmed.

in the end, that vampire—sunghoon—hadn’t lied to you. it was truly consecrated ground, and he had really saved your life. you couldn’t deny it—you were curious to know why.

you stepped out of the church cautiously, looking around for any potential threats—you were still in a forest, after all. it was all clear.

you pulled your phone out of your uniform pocket and checked the battery: there was still a little left, hopefully enough.

last night, after taking refuge in the church, you had tried to call the academy for help, but there was no signal. and, in fact, there wasn’t any that morning either.

with a sigh, you started walking through the forest, searching for a place where your phone would get reception.

your leg muscles ached from last night’s sprint, and the time spent awake in the church (there was no way you were going to sleep in a situation like that), so the act of standing up and walking once again was harder than it seemed.

meanwhile, you couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened the night before. was it terrifying? absolutely. did you feel guilty for surviving while your teammates likely hadn’t? you could bet on it. and yet, those weren’t the thoughts tormenting your mind.

the studies you had done on vampires, the textbooks you had read, the certainties on which your life had been built for the past few years… they were all wrong.

sure, vampires had proven to be bloodthirsty monsters, just like everyone had always said (you could still feel that red liquid on your hand), but they weren’t as different from humans as they were described.

and that was a crucial detail.

sunghoon had repaid the favor you had done him by not killing him, and then he had also kept his word. it was almost ridiculous because many humans weren’t even capable of that. and then—

and then, distracted by the signal icon finally appearing on your phone, you tripped and fell to the ground over a branch. or rather, a person.

a dead person.

instinctively, you brought a hand to your mouth to stifle a scream as your eyes gradually recognized the remains of the person in front of you: it was kieran, a foreign student a couple of years older than you.

the visible parts of his body were covered in bites and bruises, his uniform stained with blood and torn in several places. his body, so drained of blood, would be enough to give you nightmares for years to come.

“oh my god,” you whispered, though such an exclamation felt terribly out of place in a situation like this.

with trembling hands, you managed to dial the academy’s number and pressed the phone to your ear.

you waited for an answer on the other end, then spoke. “this is y/n y/s from the mission regarding the vampire. i need assistance—there is at least one confirmed dead.”

—---

the days following that event passed as slowly as a movie you hate but are forced to watch. sunghoon and kieran’s ravaged body were a constant weight in your mind.

during those days, the academy’s research team made progress on the case, and as the sole survivor, you were reassigned to the mission.

your suspicions had been confirmed: all three of your teammates had died, all in the same way—killed by vampires.

you were questioned about that night, but you didn’t mention sunghoon. you said you had found the church on your own, by accident, while trying to escape, and decided to take shelter inside. there was no need for them to know the truth, right? you knew it wasn’t right, but you liked convincing yourself otherwise.

regardless of your help, the researchers managed to track down the culprits. apparently, the murders of your teammates—and those of the civilians—weren’t the work of a single individual, but an entire clan of seven members.

the clan, at least three centuries old, was known as one of the most dangerous and bloodthirsty in the supernatural world. since their formation, they had killed hundreds, if not thousands, of people.

but here came the interesting part: you were the only survivor in their entire history.

it made no sense. why you?

that evening, after classes, you grabbed every file you could find about the clan from the archives, determined to learn more about the situation.

you went to the library, which was strangely almost always empty, and compared the files with books about vampires you had taken from the shelves.

that wing of the academy was a place you often visited when you wanted to study, reflect, or simply relax. the white walls and towering mahogany shelves filled with books were like a paradise to you—they made you feel at ease.

you started comparing everything written about the clan with what expert supernatural historians and doctors said about vampires, sorting plausible facts from obvious fabrications.

you were so absorbed in your research that you didn’t notice a man sitting across from you in the library—a man with pale skin and raven-black hair.

“if you wanted to know something about me, sweetheart, you could’ve just asked.” his voice pulled you back to reality.

you didn’t need to look up to know it was him—that voice was something you hadn’t been able to forget.

when you did look at him, his eyes were no longer red like they had been that night but black, like his hair.

'like his bloodstained clothes,' a voice inside you reminded you, but you silenced it.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, glancing around. no one was noticing the vampire speaking to you at that moment, right?

“oh, come on, are you suffering from memory loss now?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, his expression disappointed. “i told you i’d come visit.”

in fact, he had. and he had also proven to be a man of his word. yet, his visit was the last thing you had expected.

he rested his chin on the palm of his hand, elbow propped on the table, and looked bored at the files in front of you.

you took deep breaths, trying to steady your heartbeat, which was rapidly accelerating. despite everything, that vampire made you more than a little uneasy.

“these reports are inaccurate,” he said, picking up a sheet from your files and bringing it closer to his face to read it better—it was the approximate victim count. “we’ve killed far more.”

he slid the paper back toward you across the wooden table. “but they deserved it.”

“how could anyone ever deserve death?” you asked, trying your best not to raise your voice. what he was saying made no sense.

nonsense you should have expected from a vampire. but in those days, your image of him had become too romanticized, almost making you forget his true nature. luckily, he had come to remind you.

“were you there?” he asked, locking eyes with yours. the boredom on his face was replaced by seriousness.

you didn’t answer—it was obvious. their murders had happened in different places around the world, spanning centuries of history. you were just a human—it was impossible for you to have been there.

“exactly,” he said after studying your expression. “don’t judge what you don’t understand.”

a moment of silence passed, where he continued to look at you while you wondered why no one had started screaming ‘vampire!’ at his presence yet.

then, you decided to break the quiet with the question that had been circling in your mind. “why did you decide to save me?”

he said nothing for a moment, then smiled—exactly like he had that night, in an almost unsettling way.

“why didn’t you tell your superiors about me?” he asked in return, his sharp canines visible behind his grin.

it was a fair question, but one even you didn’t know the answer to.

you watched as he stood from his chair, unnoticed once again.

“expect another visit from me. i want to hear what other fantasy stories you’ve found about me.” he chuckled slightly, then turned around, giving you his back. “this time, don’t forget, sweetheart.”

without looking back, he gave you a small wave and walked away, undisturbed.

you sat there for a couple of minutes, staring at the pages in front of you. then, with a frustrated groan, you slammed the books shut with a thud.

this time, everyone turned to look at your table.

a/n : not gonna lie that wasn't supposed to be out this early 😭😭 but i needed to distract myself with something, so -

‹𝟹 taglist :: @whateveridontcaresheesh ﹑ @gudkc ﹑ @tasnemluvs .

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cherryheairt · 9 hours ago

Text

Guilty Pleasure

Pairing: Salesman/recruiter x reader

Request: Already in an established relationship, reader and Salesman have occasional game nights or simply reader wants to play ddakji, and at some point Salesman forgets himself and automatically slaps reader. Immediately feels bad and tries to make up for it. Whether or not reader knows he's a recruiter I leave up to you.

Fake name given to Salesman.

It wasn't often that your husband got to spend time at home with you. Even when he was off from his evening salary job (which was rare) you were working in the days. On weekends, you consider yourself lucky if you got at least a few hours together. When you finally did, you both made sure to make the most of it and spend your time making valuable memories.

Seo-joon got paid generously, and even though he was vague about his exact job description, you had learned that he really only cared to spend it on you. Expensive dinners at five star restaurants, vacations to foreign countries, a luxurious night out for couples massages and wine-tasting events. You didn't much care for what the activity was, so long as you were together. Seo-joon seemed to think the same, but loved seeing your smile when spoiling you rotten.

This weekend, you noticed how tired he seemed from his long hours of the week. Instead of going out and being in the public eye, you asked him to wait for you at home while you finished up your own work. With a raised brow, he submitted to your request without a complaint and finished up chores at home while you went out to do your own errands.

Groceries, done.

Car note, paid.

Dinner for tonight, secured in your hand.

The two ddakji folded papers in your other hand, also secured.

Tonight you were determined to let your husband sit back and relax. Movies, candy, and a little childhood throwback to ease his stressed mind.

“I'm home,” you called softly, kicking off your shoes and replacing them with slippers at the entrance. Your little cat, Ink, rubbed against your legs and mewed for attention. Seo-joon stood up from the couch, putting down his phone after a hurried goodbye to his, presumably, boss. He wasted no time in greeting you, carefully stepping around Ink and wrapping his hands around your waist, kissing the corner of your mouth on each side before finally connecting your lips together. His little tradition, for ‘good luck’ he said.

The tint of peach lip gloss transferred to his lips but he never bothered to wipe it, instead rubbing his lips together and savoring the familiar taste of you. “Welcome back.” He said in a low murmur, hugging you to his chest.

You giggled at the affection, missing him just as much as he missed you. “I have a surprise planned for you.” You started, lifting the concealed bags in between you two.

He pulled away, tilting his head ever so slightly while eyeing the bags. “Hm? What is it?” Typically, he preferred to plan the dates and surprises as he always said was traditional and gentlemanly, but any little treat you brought him home always made his eyes light up in a way that made your own heart melt.

“You've been so busy lately, I thought it would be nice for a night in. I got some takeout and ddakji!” You hummed pleasantly, placing the two bags on the small dining table. With an arm still around your waist and lying on your hip, you felt him tense almost imperceptibly.

Turning to face him, he looked almost pale in the light of the evening. “Seo-joon?” You asked, rubbing the back of your hand on his cheek. “What's wrong, are you feeling sick?”

Easily, he took your hand in his own and kissed it, leading it back to your side and shaking his head. Chuckling, he answered, “I just didn't expect to hear that. I haven't played ddakji since I was young.”

Beaming, you nodded. “Me too! I thought it might be a fun throwback.” As you plated the takeout, Seo-joon set the table with silverware and pulled out your seat.

After some debriefing about your day, Seo-joon and you finished your meals and relaxed into the sofa cushions, playing a rom-com drama movie and simply settled into each other's company. His scent was still fresh even after he changed from his formal attire into a more comfortable turtleneck sweater and sweatpants. With your face buried in his neck and breath brushing over his skin with each exhale, Seo-joon couldn't help but coo at your sleepy eyes.

“Are you ready for bed, dear?” He asked quietly, brushing hair behind your ear to get it out of your eyes.

Jumping up, you blinked away all tiredness and rapidly shook your head. Seo-joon's eyes widened and sat up to watch you flounce around the room from the table and back to the couch.

Holding out both hands, you revealed the two ddakji papers to him. One was a bright blue and the other a deep purple. “You can pick your color.” You gestured, eager to play the game.

Slowly, almost hesitant if you didn't know your husband well, he grabbed the purple and stood up, slightly looking down at you as he did. “Since I picked, you can go first.” He straightened up his sweater as if it were his usual grey-blue suit, muscle memory coming into play with every movement he made.

You nodded, looking down at his paper on the floor before questioning: “What is the prize for winning?”

He thought for a moment. “How about a kiss on the cheek?” He tapped his own cheekily, eyes squinted with amusement as you wasted no time agreeing.

Slapping the blue paper down, you laughed with satisfaction as the purple one flipped completely over. “First try!” You exclaimed. Seo-joon chuckled, picking up the blue and getting ready for his own turn.

With a loud ‘slap!’ he flipped his, too. It looked almost effortless, as if he had played the childhood game a mere day ago instead of years.

“The stakes raise…” you murmur, slapping your own one down yet again. It flipped, and somehow you both managed to hit each other's papers perfectly for multiple rows at a time.

Sighing, you almost felt tired with the exertion of throwing and picking up at rapid paces.

With a responding smack, you frowned when you realized you were the first to lose. “Aw—”

SMACK

You registered the sound before the pain. Clutching your cheek, you could only stare wide-eyed at the man in front of you, who bore the same expression verbatim.

It was silent for a long moment.

Then another.

And another.

Then, he finally unfroze. He stepped forward to caress your face in both of his hands, brows furrowed so tight that you thought he might burst a blood vessel. “Fuck. I'm so, so sorry, my love. That was an accident, I swear that on everything—”

Your resounding giggle cut him off. You held his wrists in a loose grip, face buried in his chest as you uncontrollably laughed at the silliness of the situation. Seo-joon would never actually hurt you with ill intent, this you knew for certain, but the absolute absurdity of him instinctively slapping you after you lost a game of ddakji was probably the funniest thing that had happened to you for months.

Seo-joon’s hands hovered over your shoulders in the meanwhile, unsure of whether to touch you or continue profusely apologizing to you.

“Seo-joon, did you and your friends slap each other as punishment?” You managed to wheeze out through your laughs.

His completely tensed up body loosened slightly after you said that. He sighed one long and extremely grateful sigh. “Yeah, something like that.” He said vaguely. “Are you okay?” He lifted your face up to inspect it closely, the mark left behind already fading in both appearance and pain.

You bit your cheek at his cute consideration, kissing his nose and lips after running your hands through his once neat hair. “I'm just fine. That was fun, we could keep going—”

“Absolutely not.” He said firmly, though he let a slightly amused exhale leave his lungs.

You only snorted, kissing the apple of his cheek and tugging him to the bedroom. “Come on, it's not like you've never slapped me before.”

It was his turn to be completely stunned and silent.

Listening to Guilty Pleasure and After Midnight by Chappell Roan im so hooked

this was amusing to write, sorry it's pretty short aha

#the recruiter x reader #salesman x reader #gong yoo #gong yoo x reader #squid games #squid games x reader #fanfiction #writing

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cheynovak · 21 hours ago

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Fevered Confessions part 7 - Final

Characters: Soldier boy x Y/N Female character

Summary: Y/N got hurt during a mission with Soldier boy, Ben feels guilty and tries to take care of her. But the fever makes her believe she is imagining it.

Warnings: Mentioning of fever/wounds/ fighting/... -> 18+ ish. Nothing too explicit.

English isn't my first language.

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

**Y/N’s POV**

Years passed, but Ben never left my mind.

My memories had came back in pieces—slow, fragmented, like a puzzle I wasn’t sure I wanted to finish. Some things made sense. Others felt like they belonged to someone else, a different version of me.

I went back to the man who had once helped me control my powers the second I knew his name again. He was older now, grayer, but still sharp. He said I’d made more progress than I ever had as a teenager. That should have made me feel accomplished.

It didn’t.

Because the nightmares were worse now.

I had only lost control of my power once when I was young. But now? It happened almost every night. Every time he asked me what I saw, I told him I didn’t remember. That it was just noise, static. But I was lying.

I did remember.

I was reliving that moment. The mission. The gunfire. The explosion. The heat of the blast, the radiation burning my skin, knocking the air from my lungs. And then—nothing. Flashes of an old, dirty motel. Pain. Fever. and him... Ben.

He was there.

He had always been there. And that was the worst part of all. My mentor said I needed to confront my fears, not hide behind them.

But how could I? I couldn’t confront Ben.

So instead, I hid. I found an old abandoned apartment complex, the kind no one cared about, the kind where it wouldn’t matter if my powers slipped at night. If I woke up screaming and the walls were covered in frost, there’d be no one around to see it. No one to get hurt.

During the day, I worked in a freezer, cutting meat at some factory on the edge of town. The cold didn’t bother me. It never had.

I wasn’t happy, but I was safe. The world was safe from me. And I had a paycheck. A way to exist without looking over my shoulder, without the danger of catching bullets. That was, until my boss called me into his office.

His expression was careful, apologetic. The kind that told me whatever came next, I wasn’t going to like it.

“I’m sorry, kid” he said. “We have to let you go.”

I couldn’t hold back the anger that surged when I got home. I paced around my apartment, frustration burning through me. It wasn’t enough that I’d been stuck in this place, a prisoner of my own past, but now I had no job to keep me going either.

That night, the dream came again. The familiar, haunting one. But this time, for the first time, something changed.

I saw it clearly. The bullet hitting me, the pain shooting through my chest. But then, as my vision blurred, I saw his face—Ben’s face—frozen in horror.

I heard his voice, filled with guilt and panic. I saw him rushing to me, trying to stop the bleeding, but there was nothing he could do. The look in his eyes… it wasn’t anger. It wasn’t hatred. It was horror.

And right before my eyes closed I saw our enemies come closer, Ben stood up to then and then a flash of white heat... and pain.

I shot up in bed, gasping for air. The cold sweat dripped down my back, and I looked around in a panic. My hands trembled, but to my surprise, there was no ice on the walls. No frost spreading over the floor. The room was warm.

I realized then, Ben didn’t attack me. He lost control. He saw me hurt, and it did something to him. That explosion, the chaos, the rage—it wasn’t about me. It was his desperation.

He wasn’t the monster I thought he was. He was just as scared as I was. The realization hit me hard, deeper than I expected. I misjudged him.

I wiped my tired face, staring at my reflection in the cracked mirror. The black circles under my eyes did little to hide the fact I hadn't slept good in ages. The walls around me were silent, but inside my head, everything had changed. I had to face the truth. The real truth. And it terrified me.

I still cared for him.

**Ben’s POV**

Ever since Y/N left, life had been a goddamn blur. Days bled into nights, and I drowned them all in booze; drugs and whatever else I could get my hands on to ease the pain, failure. I didn’t care.

TV blaring, empty bottles on the floor, cigarettes burning out in the ashtray—nothing mattered.

But then I heard her voice. At first, I thought I was hallucinating, just another trick my fucked-up mind was playing on me. But when I turned my head, there she was.

Butcher stood near the door, watching her, but I barely saw him. My eyes locked onto her, and Jesus Christ, she looked good. Strong. Confident. Or at least she tried, I could see how tired she ws but still. No longer the broken girl I let walk away.

She smiled, soft and hesitant. “Hi, Is Ben here?”

That voice, the way she looked at me when Butcher took a step aside—it did something to me. Something I wasn’t ready for. Then her brows knitted, probably noticing the state I was in. The mess I’d let myself become.

I didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. I stepped toward her, faster than I should have, closing the distance between us. And before I could stop myself, I had her pinned against the wall, my hands caging her in.

She let out a sharp breath, her eyes widening just a fraction, but she didn’t push me away. I leaned in, my voice low and rough. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

I couldn’t let her do this. Couldn’t let her get in my head again, make me hope for something I didn’t deserve.

“Leave,” I said, shaking my head. My voice was rough, barely controlled. I wasn’t the man she used to know. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I was a man anymore, just a broken thing pretending to function.

But she stood her ground, her chin lifting. Stubborn as ever.

“No.”

Her hand pressed against my chest, pushing me back just enough to make me feel it. “I need to know the truth, Ben.” Her voice wavered, but her eyes burned with determination. “Did you attack me that day?”

I stiffened. My throat felt like it was closing. I didn’t answer.

“Did you?” she demanded, her voice thick with emotion.

“For fuck’s sake, Ben, did you?”

“No!” I roared, the word ripping out of me.

Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. She searched my face for something—proof, maybe.

“Then why didn’t you say that?” Her voice was quieter now, edged with something I didn’t want to name. I scoffed, running a hand through my hair. “Would it have made a difference? Would you have stayed?”

She hesitated, just for a second. Then, almost too soft to hear, she whispered, “Maybe not.” She turned for the door, and something inside me snapped.

“If you leave again, don’t bother coming back!” The words came out sharp, venomous. I hated how desperate they sounded, how much weight they carried.

She froze, her back stiffening. For a second, I thought she’d just walk out without another word, but then she exhaled, slow and measured.

“Fine,” she said, just as irritated. Then, with a glance over her shoulder, she added, “Then get some sleep, and we’ll talk when you’re sober.”

"I'm sober enough."

"No you're not."

I clenched my jaw, staring at her. She wasn’t playing my game this time. No yelling, no storming off—just standing her ground, like she always did.

I hated that she still knew me so well.

**Y/N’s POV**

I looked over at Ben, passed out on the couch, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. He looked different—tired, worn down, like he was carrying the weight of something too heavy to bear.

"How did he even get this drunk? Nothing would ever effect him like this." I murmured.

Butcher sat on the other end of the table, sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Gallons of the strongest stuff we can get. 100% alcohol, straight. Ain't even mixed anymore. Some fucked up drugs no one would ever survive. He takes it like it's candy"

My stomach twisted. "Why?"

Butcher shot me a look like I was daft. "What do ya think? It's his way to numb the pain. He don’t talk about it, but it’s clear enough—he’s been drinkin' himself to death ever since you left."

I swallowed hard, guilt creeping in. I should have believed him. Or at least, I should have pushed harder for the truth instead of running. Maybe then, he wouldn’t be like this.

It took hours of listening to his breathing. Butcher got tired and said if I needed anything I'd give him a ring and left us alone. I walked to the kitchen to pour myself a drink.

Just as the door closed after Butcher, I heard Ben.

"Finally," he said, his voice rough. He ran a hand through his messy hair, watching me with those dark, tired eyes. I set my glass down, gripping the counter. "Finally, what?"

"You've been sittin’ there for hours with Butcher, I was waiting for that ashole to leave. Figured you’d leave too." He took a slow step toward me.

I shook my head. "Not this time, I said I'd wait." Ben let out a dry chuckle, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah? We’ll see."

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, looking at me like he was trying to figure out if I was real or just another dream he'd wake up from. I could see the exhaustion, the anger, the hurt—all of it simmering beneath the surface.

Yet, I couldn't wait anymore, I took a deep breath. "I want the truth, Ben. All of it." His jaw tightened. "And if you don’t like what you hear?"

I met his gaze, steady this time. "Then at least I’ll know. But maybe I should start by apologizing."

Ben shook his head, stepping closer. “Don’t. Don’t apologize to me.” His voice was low, rough with emotion. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I did. I let you believe something that wasn’t true because I was too much of a coward to face what I did.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “I should have stayed,” I admitted. “I should have pushed for the truth instead of running.”

He let out a breath, his hands flexing at his sides like he wanted to reach for me but didn’t trust himself.

Ben let out a rough breath, raking a hand through his hair as he paced the small kitchen. He looked wrecked—tired, strung out, but there was something else there too. Something deeper, something breaking.

"You wanna know the truth?" he said suddenly, his voice raw. "Fine. Here it is—I don't deserve you. I never did. And I sure as hell don’t now. But that doesn’t change the fact that from the second you walked through that damn door all those years ago, I was done for."

I blinked, my breath catching in my throat as he pointed at the front door.

Ben kept going, his hands clenching into fists like he was trying to hold himself together. "You didn’t even look at me like I was a monster. Like everyone else always did. You looked at me like I was… just Ben. And it scared the shit out of me. Because I knew—I knew—that I was gonna love you. And I did... I do.” His voice cracked, but he didn’t stop.

"I screwed up. Over and over. I lied, I pushed you away, I let you believe the worst because it was easier than admitting I was afraid of losing you. But I lost you anyway. And I’ve been paying for it ever since."

He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You wanna hear something pathetic? Every time I closed my eyes, it was you. Every time I got so damn drunk I couldn't see straight, I still saw you. Every time I was high, I heard you. Like it was some fucked up lesson."

Tears welled in my eyes, my heart hammering in my chest.

Ben exhaled sharply, finally meeting my gaze, his expression desperate, vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before. “I know I don’t deserve you. I know I don’t have the right to ask for anything from you. But I love you, Y/N. And I don’t know how to stop.”

The room was silent except for the rain pattering against the windows, for the sound of my own unsteady breathing.

I swallowed hard, stepping closer, my voice barely above a whisper. "Then don’t."

I must’ve misheard her. I had to have misheard her.

But then she said it again, her voice softer this time, like she was scared I might run. “Don’t stop loving me. Because I sure will never stop loving you.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and I just stood there, frozen.

I couldn't hold back anymore. The second my body caught up with what my heart already knew, I stormed toward her, knocking over the chair I’d been leaning on.

Before she could say another word, I grabbed her, pressing her against the counter, my lips crashing into hers. It was needy, desperate, a kiss that spoke of years of longing and regret.

She gasped against my mouth, and I took the chance to deepen it, my hands cradling her face like she was the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.

Without hesitation, I lifted her, her legs wrapping around my hips, she belonged there, she always had. Her fingers tangled in my hair, nails scraping along my scalp, down my back, pulling me closer.

Her breath was deep and quick, her body moving against mine with the same urgency, the same hunger. It wasn’t just passion; it was relief. Like neither of us could stand another second apart.

I pulled back just enough to look at her, to memorize the way she looked in this moment—lips swollen, eyes dark with want, chest rising and falling as she fought for breath.

“Say it again,” I rasped, my forehead against hers. Her hands slid over my jaw, her thumbs brushing over my cheekbones as she whispered, “I love you, Ben.”

I groaned, "You have no idea how long I wanted to hear you say that." Pressing another kiss to her lips, then her jaw, then down her throat, savoring every sound she made. If this was a dream, I’d burn the world down before I let it slip away.

I carried her to the bedroom, my grip firm but reverent, like she was something sacred. Laying her down on the bed, I took a second just to look at her—more beautiful than I ever remembered, glowing with want, with something deeper than lust. Something I didn’t deserve but would spend the rest of my life worshipping.

Patience was never my strong suit, and I sure as hell didn’t have any now. My fingers curled into her shirt, and instead of taking my time, I just ripped it clean off her.

She let out a surprised laugh, eyes bright with mischief before she grabbed my shoulders and yanked me down against her. “Impatient, are we?” she teased, breathless.

I smirked, my lips tracing down her jaw, her throat, the curve of her collarbone. “You have no idea.”

Her nails scraped down my back, her hips shifting beneath me, seeking, needing. I lined myself up, my hands braced on either side of her, my body practically shaking with restraint.

I looked into her eyes, needing to be sure. “Are you sure?” My voice was rough, unsteady. “Because once we cross this path again, there’s no going back. You’re mine.”

She reached up, brushing my hair back, her fingers lingering on my face like she was memorizing me. Then she kissed me—slow and deep, leaving no space for doubt.

“I’m already yours,” she whispered.

Her heel pressed against my hip, pulling me closer, and that was all I needed. I gave in, completely, finally, and there wasn’t a force on this earth that could tear me away from her now.

I guess my hard and needy thrust spiralled us quicker than we wanted towards the orgasm. Her moans I heard so often in my dreams where real. her scent, her touch all of it was to real.

But then she begged me to stop, I was confused. but I saw the fear in her eyes. "It's ok," I said, "you won't hurt me."

"Ben... I..."

"I don't care if you freeze me, this room or the God damn world. all I care it for you, to enjoy and have a fucking orgasm that I fucking gave you." She started to laugh, I held her close my lips on her neck and her laugh changed to moans again the second I moved my hips again.

A high pitch "Ben" left her lips before she came.

She came... and it was the best feeling i've ever felt.

**Y/N's POV** The next day I woke up.

Feeling a pleasant warmth under my cheeks. I looked up and noticed how Ben lay beneath me, holding me in his arms. His warmth was a nice feeling against my freezing skin, I looked closely to see if he was ok, but I hadn't froze him and the room was clear.

I leaned in to make sure he was breathing.

"Staring is rude sweetheart", he said, eyes still closed.

I felt my cheeks heat up as his raspy morning voice reached my ears. Caught in the act. His arms tightened around me, keeping me pressed against his chest, his warmth steady and grounding.

“I wasn’t staring,” I muttered, but even I didn’t believe that lie.

Ben finally cracked one eye open, smirking. “Liar.”

I huffed, trying to push myself up, but he didn’t let me go. Instead, he rolled us over effortlessly, pinning me beneath him, his face hovering just inches from mine. His hair was messy, his lips slightly swollen from last night, and damn, if he didn’t look ridiculously good like this—half-asleep, content, mine.

“Room’s still intact,” he murmured, one hand brushing down my arm, stopping where his fingers met my bare skin. “No ice, no frost—just you and me.”

I swallowed, glancing around, realizing he was right. No frozen sheets, no crackling frost creeping up the walls. Just warmth.

Ben must’ve noticed the realization on my face, because his smirk softened. “Told you, sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my lips. “You’ve got this.”

I let out a shaky breath, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him back down into me. “Only with you,” I admitted.

His lips curled into a grin against my skin. “Then I guess I’m never letting you go.”

Taglist: @jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane @star-yawnznn

#jensen ackles #fanfic #x reader #jensen fucking ackles #fluff #soldier boy #the boys #smut #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys fanfic #the boys soldier boy

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loveesiren · 4 hours ago

Text

𝖢𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖬𝗒 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 (𝖯𝗍.2)

Choi Seunghyun x f!reader x Kwon Jiyong | Masterlist

a/n: Here's part two! I feel like this part is slightly boring but I needed to write it to continue lol. I've also just been off the past few days and I'm trying to get back into the right mood so I'm sorry if this sucks. I'll try to have part 3 out ASAP!

synopsis: Y/n struggles escape her guilty conscience of the secret her and Jiyong carry. Meanwhile, Seunghyun is oblivious and head over heels for Y/n.

warnings: Language, angst, mention of sex, some fluff at the end

wc: 2.2k+

The shrill blare of your alarm yanked you from the depths of sleep, your body aching, your mind groggy with exhaustion. Your hand instinctively shot out, fumbling blindly until you slammed the snooze button, plunging the room back into an uneasy silence. A tired groan slipped from your lips as you shifted under the sheets, ready to drift back into oblivion—until you felt it.

A warmth beside you.

Your stomach twisted violently as you rolled over, your pulse spiking when your eyes landed on the figure sprawled out next to you. Jiyong.

His bare torso was partially covered by the sheets, the same sheets that reeked of sweat, sex, and the mistakes of last night. His face was relaxed in sleep, lips slightly parted, dark lashes fanned against his cheeks. Without the cocky smirk, without the biting words, he almost looked…peaceful. Almost.

But the moment you registered the ache between your legs, the bruises forming on your hips, the ghost of his hands still lingering on your skin, shame crashed over you like a tidal wave.

Last night came rushing back in a flood of memories—Seunghyun’s gentle smile, the way he looked at you with admiration and patience. The way you had laughed, talked, felt like a real person again, not just some dirty little secret. And then Jiyong. His scent. His touch. His words whispered against your lips as he dragged you back into the cycle of ruin.

You squeezed your eyes shut. God, you hated yourself.

With a sharp inhale, you grabbed your phone, your fingers moving on autopilot as you typed out a text to your boss.

Can’t come in today. Migraine.

It was a weak excuse, but you prayed he wouldn’t question it. You never took a day off. Maybe he’d let this one slide.

Your phone buzzed almost immediately.

Fine, but I need the final drafts by midnight tomorrow.

Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. You set the phone down and turned to face the bigger issue at hand.

“Jiyong, get up,” you snapped, your voice ice-cold as you slammed your foot into his calf.

He groaned in protest, rolling onto his side with a sleepy scowl. “What the fuck, Y/n?”

“Get out.” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the morning stillness like a blade.

Jiyong blinked at you, disoriented but quickly catching on. His smirk returned, lazy and infuriating. “Is that really how you treat the guy who made you cum three times last night?” His voice was drenched in amusement, in satisfaction. In ownership.

Your stomach churned, your skin burning with humiliation. You turned away, grabbing your clothes off the floor, yanking them on in a frenzy. Jiyong propped himself up on one elbow, watching you with that infuriating smirk still lingering on his lips.

“You look tense.” he teased, stretching his arms above his head, his toned stomach flexing. “You wanna fuck it out?”

You clenched your jaw. “I’m not coming in today. And this—this is over. So get up and get out of my house.”

Jiyong tilted his head, his long, fading orange hair falling into his eyes. The same hair you were responsible for touching up, though the thought of being that close to him again made bile rise in your throat.

“Why aren’t you coming in?” His tone was nonchalant, but there was something else lurking beneath it.

“I need a fucking day off—from you. From everything.” Your voice cracked, and you hated yourself for it. “I had a nice time with Seunghyun last night. And then you just—you just showed up and ruined it.”

He scoffed. “Ruined it? You were begging me to fuck you, Y/n.”

You flinched. He always knew exactly where to strike.

“That was the last fucking time, Jiyong. I’m serious.”

He was quiet for a beat. Then, his gaze flickered to the bedside table, to the black dahlia wilting from neglect. His smirk curled slightly.

“I helped him pick that out, you know.” He gestured lazily toward the flower. “Told him you liked dahlias. He doesn’t know shit about you, Y/n. Not like I do.”

Your breath hitched. “Still don’t know why you did that,” you murmured, your voice laced with suspicion. “Maybe just stay out of our business.”

His eyes darkened. “He’s my best friend. He comes to me for advice.” A cruel chuckle escaped his lips. “I mean, next time I could just tell him how to fuck you right—since I know all about that.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Don’t you dare tell him,” you seethed.

Jiyong raised an eyebrow. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Your chest heaved. “Why do you even care, Jiyong?! You hate me. I hate you. This was all just meaningless fucking sex!”

The words hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

Jiyong’s jaw tightened. His nostrils flared, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. For the first time, he had nothing to say.

“I like Seunghyun. I really do,” you continued, your voice shaking. “And I’d like to see him again. But I can’t do that if you’re still lurking around, so just—just fuck off! Find someone else to fuck!”

Something flashed in his eyes, something raw, something dangerous—but then it was gone.

“Fine,” he spat, his smirk returning, but this time it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve got plenty of girls. I don’t need you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Never needed you.” You mumbled, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

Jiyong let out a bitter laugh, but it was hollow. Without another word, he grabbed his clothes, yanked them on, and stormed toward the door. The slam of it rattled the walls.

The moment he was gone, your legs gave out. You sank to the floor, your hands clutching at your hair, your breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. The weight of it all came crashing down, pressing against your chest like a thousand bricks.

It was over.

And yet—you knew it wasn’t. Not completely.

You crawled toward the bathroom, your limbs feeling like lead. The moment you stepped into the shower, you let the scorching water cascade over your skin, washing away the remnants of last night. You sat against the tile, knees pulled to your chest, silent sobs wracking your body.

You had never felt so disgusted with yourself.

Two hours passed before you finally emerged, your body scrubbed raw, but the filth of Jiyong still clung to you like a second skin. You numbly went through your routine, pulling on sweats and a tank top, throwing your sheets into the wash.

Your phone sat untouched on the counter. You braced yourself before picking it up, expecting an onslaught of messages—Jiyong’s wrath, Seunghyun’s confusion, your boss demanding answers.

Instead, there was just one.

Seunghyun: Hey, I heard you weren’t feeling good. Hopefully it’s not from the restaurant. I hope you feel better soon! It’s boring without you here.

Your chest ached. He didn’t know. Not yet.

No, it’s not from the restaurant. Just a headache. I had a great time last night!

You lied.

Not about having a great time with Seunghyun—you had. Those few hours with him had felt like stepping into a life you wanted so desperately to claim as your own. A life that was simple, warm, untouched by the filth of your past mistakes. But the reason you weren’t at work? That was a lie.

You weren’t sick.

You were avoiding the inevitable.

Jiyong knew how to be cruel when he wanted to be. And if he decided to open his mouth, your world would come crumbling down. Your stomach twisted at the thought of it. Everyone would know. Your boss, your coworkers, Seunghyun.

Seunghyun.

You didn’t even want to think about how he would react. The betrayal in his eyes, the disappointment. Would he hate you? Would he turn his back on you? On his best friend?

You pushed the thought away, forcing yourself into work. You needed a distraction, something to pull you away from the anxiety chewing at your insides. Music blared from the speakers, filling the silence as you lost yourself in sketching, your pencil moving in sharp, deliberate strokes.

You had finished Daesung’s outfit first, moving onto Taeyang’s and Seungri’s with ease. Designing for them was simple, almost soothing. You knew their style, their personalities, the energy they brought to the stage. It was second nature to you.

But then came the last two pages of your sketchbook.

Seunghyun and Jiyong.

Your fingers lingered on Seunghyun’s page, your pencil tracing meaningless details—adding unnecessary stitching to his jacket, shading in areas that didn’t need shading, elongating the shape of the silhouette. You knew you were procrastinating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to flip the page just yet.

You liked being on this page. Here, there was no shame, no regret, no mistakes. Just clean lines and the promise of something new.

But eventually, you had to move forward.

The moment you flipped to Jiyong’s page, your stomach clenched.

You stared at the half finished sketch you’d started, your fingers tightening around your pencil. Designing for him was always easy. You knew his style better than anyone, could predict his fashion choices before he even made them. But now, looking at this page, it felt impossible.

How could you design something for a man you wanted so desperately to erase from your memory?

You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to sketch. You kept it simple, precise—dark, sleek lines, something effortlessly cool and arrogant, just like him. Just like the man his fans adored. Not the man who whispered filthy things into your ear, not the man who knew exactly how to ruin you, over and over again.

But even as you sketched, his voice echoed in your head.

"He doesn’t know shit about you, Y/n. Not like I do."

Your grip on the pencil tightened. God, you hated him.

And yet, the memory of last night still clung to your skin. The bruises on your hips, the soreness between your legs. You hated how good he made you feel, how easy it was to fall into bed with him, how no matter how hard you tried to move on, he always found a way to pull you back in.

You shook your head, biting down on your lip hard enough to taste copper.

You just had to finish this.

Just as you were adding the final touches, the doorbell rang.

You jolted upright, blinking down at your sketchbook as if just realizing where you were. Pushing it aside, you stood, rubbing the stiffness from your neck before making your way to the door.

You weren’t expecting company.

When you swung the door open, the sight before you made your breath hitch.

Seunghyun.

He stood there, a bag of takeout in one hand and yet another flower in the other. This time, a purple tulip, its petals delicate between his fingers.

“Seunghyun!” you breathed, your voice laced with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I felt bad you weren’t feeling well today, so I thought maybe some ramen would help?” He lifted the bag slightly before extending the flower. “And, uh… I picked this from someone’s garden on the way here.”

A laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it.

"You stole a flower for me?"

He chuckled, his ears turning pink. "Borrowed. I’ll return it if they notice."

Your fingers curled around the stem, bringing the tulip to your nose as you giggled, the gesture so undeniably him. "This is really sweet, Seunghyun."

“If you’d like some company, I’m free.” He paused, suddenly unsure. “But if you’re not up for it, I totally understand.”

You didn’t hesitate. “No, I am!”

His face brightened at your enthusiasm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Come in.” You needed the distraction.

Seunghyun followed you inside, his presence filling your small apartment with warmth. As he placed the food on the counter, you searched for a vase, already feeling guilty about the black dahlia wilting in your bedroom.

Then, he spoke again.

“Oh, and this was outside your door.”

You turned just as he pulled a white envelope from his pocket, holding it out to you.

“I promise I didn’t look at it,” he added quickly. “I just picked it up so you wouldn’t miss it. Could be something important.”

Your fingers hesitated before taking it from him. It was blank. No address, no name.

Your stomach twisted.

“Uh, Seunghyun… do me a favor?” You tried to keep your voice steady. “Take all this to the living room? Pick us a movie to watch.”

“Sure!” He grinned, easily distracted. “What kind of movie do you want to watch?”

“Something scary!” you called back, waiting until he was out of sight before your fingers pried open the envelope.

Inside, there was something small, cold.

A key.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Not just any key. Your key.

Your heart pounded as you pulled out the folded note tucked inside.

You didn’t need to open it to know who it was from. The handwriting was unmistakable, messy and familiar, like it had been scribbled in a rush.

With trembling fingers, you unfolded it, your eyes scanning the words.

I won’t tell him.

Let me know if you'd like to be added/removed from the taglist! :)

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loveanddeephistory · 8 hours ago

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Rafayel with a Witchy MC

I sent @poisonf0rest an ask talking about this but as someone who's on the spiritual side, I can't stop thinking about how funny it would be for someone who works with different deities to find out their boyfriend was one. So this is incredibly self indulgent and niche.

Not proofread, this is specifically for shits and giggles.

WC: 1.2k

divider by @thecutestgrotto

Everyone's got their beliefs and little practices. Tara does tarot readings without anyone batting an eye, Xavier will pray at a shrine with others, and you have a full practice. As accepting as Linkon is, you know outright witchcraft was a little out of the norm

You keep it chill. You have an altar and keep it clean, honor your ancestors where appropriate, visit shrines, leave offerings. You have your main patron but you're not stingy with your respect.

You keep it on the down low, though. You discuss how sassy your tarot deck is getting with you around Tara in public leave it at that.

When you get into a relationship with Rafayel? You know you have to come out of the (broom) closet eventually, but you start slow.

You discuss some tarot readings where he showed up, to which Rafayel expresses interest. Unless it's bad, then he scoffs.

"What would a stack of cards know about us >:("

You add in some herbal knowledge, maybe drop hints about deity work

But then Ebb and Flow happens. Finding out your boyfriend is basically a merman makes you feel a looooot less guilty about dabbling in magic and not telling him.

Shortly after you just come out and say it, he isn't surprised, but you can't help but catch a weird glint in his eye. Like a fleeting glimpse of deja vu.

Things smooth out from there. With these big secrets off both your chests you move on. You're pleasantly surprised to find him showing off his own knowledge of magic over time, teasingly cursing you in Lemurian, showing his knowledge of tarot during an abyssal chaos commission, and eventually revealing he, too, is a god.

As shocked as you are, it makes sense. He makes your hair stand on end the same way other presences do during a prayer or ritual. At first you chalked it up to how he always made your heart flutter, but look at him. Look at him and say you aren't surprised he's divine.

The first time he visits your place is what surprises both of you the most.

Your altar is in a private space and he doesn't go out of his way to snoop (to your knowledge), but you do catch him staring at the statue of your patron deity.

"Y/N." His voice, melodic as always, was tense. "Tell me that isn't what I think it is." You turned, peering into the corner of the room where your small altar lay. It was humble, a couple of dried flower petals, a bowl for offerings, and the statue. You shrug.

"It's an altar."

"Yeah. And it isn't for me." He turned to you, a look akin to absolute betrayal on his face. You poked his cheek.

"Yeah, well, last I checked you're my boyfriend. What are you first? My boyfriend, or my god?" He immediately opened his mouth, ready to answer. But he paused. He lifted a finger to his chin, breaking eye contact. The silence hung in the air for a few moments as he attempted to puzzle the answer for himself.

"Both...?"

"I'm not gonna lie, wouldn't that make us have a huge power imbalance?" You kept teasing him, even as that bottom lip jutted out.

"No, you still have the bond, it's not like I'm gonna force you to do anything." There's the pouty fishie you know and love. He seemed almost genuinely distraught that you were paying attention to other gods. "But isn't this, like... cheating? Or something?"

"If that were true, I started working with these gods long before I knew who you were." You chastised right back. He was immediately ready to argue with you, but caught himself before he could. He groaned.

"Okay. Whatever. Just- make me one, too. I wanna be included."

And thus, the hunt for proper tools for a sea themed new altar began. The first part was easy, repurposing some of Rafayel's gifts. The jar full of sand and seashells was first to go on, along with a beautiful blue scarf he got you for an altar cloth. A little ceramic bowl he made became the offering bowl. Rafayel gifted you seashells with the expectation that they be placed on his altar, and you were happy to oblige. You found out his favorite scents for designated candles.

You were tempted to get a designated oracle deck for him, but he talked you out of it.

"If you want my advice on something, just call me, cutie." He was quick to flick your forehead as well. While you'd received the spiritual equivalent of a Gibbs slap from ancestors and deities before, this was a new ride in and of itself.

Oh, but it was wholeheartedly mutual. You couldn't just date a god and not banter back. You couldn't just sever the relationships you did have, nor did you want to, so you still spent time with your patron deity. A prayer here, a reading there, an offering where appropriate.

Every. Single. Time. Without fail. Rafayel would call or text you.

You had just lit some incense, leaving a bowl full of fruit for the deity, clasping your hands and murmuring your prayer before your phone loudly began to ring. You recognized the song you had set up for your beloved, so you answer your phone.

"I know that isn't for who I think it's for, is it?" There was no greeting. No 'hello love of my life', no 'hi cutie', just straight to sharply asking about the offering.

"I was just about to get to yours! I light incense for you, you know, if you want fruit I'll buy you some and come by Whitesand."

"Cutieeeee, I should be your patron, not them! I'm your boyfriend and your god!"

"Well technically since I'm not a Lemurian-"

"No. It counts." He came off a little sharper than intended, you could tell by his immediate sigh. "It counts." His voice softened. "You're still my follower."

"I am, yes, I am your follower. I am also your partner and beloved bodyguard. If you really want my prayers, I can just call or text you. If you want offerings, I can swing by with some takeout for dinner?" You glanced at the incense burning, the scented smoke filling the room in the most satisfying way. The smoke began to curl and shift. It seemed aquatic.

And from that alone you knew why you felt the air shift. You smiled, speaking gently into your receiver. "I got that oceanic incense you recommended the other day, baby. Want me to burn it while I place the order?"

"... yes, please."

Your other deities were rarely so polite. Though, of course, you weren't dating them. Your dynamics were different. They could be sassy through tarot cards, or the flame of a candle spitting back at you when you went to extinguish it. Rafayel could just be sassy to your face. That perfect bottom lip jutting out as his ears turned red.

Rafayel was unlike any god you had every worked with. But something about him felt familiar anyway. So you lit his incense, put it in his incense holder, on his altar. Pictures of the two of you decorating it, his gifts littered about, signs of his affection for you everywhere.

And as you stood in awe at the altar of his devotion, the air stilled. You would be in his arms soon enough, with an offering of takeout and your prayers of devotion spoken directly into his ears, trailed down his bare chest, wrapping around his body in the devotion of a darling devotee. But for now, you could still feel the air shift. You could practically feel his arms around you already.

#lads #loveanddeepspace #lads rafayel #rafayel x you #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #lnds #rafayelxwitchy!reader

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d1xonss · 12 hours ago

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Desert Rose

Chapter 71 ~ Spaghetti Tuesdays

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Word Count : 7.9k

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

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

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

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

I smirked, "Hey, handsome."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you." I muttered a bit shyly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My eyes widened, "What?"

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

I sighed, "Damn."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No." he said in faux disbelief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smirked a little, "Alright..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But...they hurt."

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, why not?"

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

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

"Yep." I nodded, "Giddyap."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hell no." I said immediately.

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

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

He chuckled, "Ya sure are generous."

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

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

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

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

"Yeah. It sucked." I said bluntly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Six months." Daryl said almost immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ask me what?" Daryl voiced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I was an undercover cop."

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

I shrugged, "I hope so."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nodded slowly, "Okay."

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

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

"Really?" he asked somewhat shocked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I rolled my eyes, "Quit."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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