#him answering the door in this suit was incredible holy shit

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Seventeen - The Third Date

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

2.1K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

warnings: smut, p in v, hickies, blowjob

Series Masterlist

The third date. That was meant to be the big one, right? The one where... it happened? She had no reason to be nervous. It was Daniel, a man she knew incredibly well, a man she was pretty sure she was in love with.

With Milo eating his dinner, Y/N went to the neighbours door and knocked.

The neighbours Seventeen year old daughter pulled open the door. "Hey Miss L/N," she said. "Do you want me to get my mum?"

"Actually, Mol, I'm here to see you. Would you fancy babysitting Milo tonight? I can pay and I've got pizza money for you," she said.

"I'd love to," Mollie answered. "Let me just check with my mom."

The door shut in Y/Ns face and she waited patiently for Mollie to get back to her with an answer. If she couldn't get a babysitter for Milo she'd just have to reschedule with Daniel. Daniel wouldn't mind. He might even suggest to bring Milo along.

The door opened again and Mollie nodded her head. "She said its fine, Miss L/N. What time do you want me there?" She asked.

At 7PM, Y/N was ready to go. She was dressed to the nines, wearing her favourite dress, her favourite shoes and her favourite jewellery. Milo had told her all about his new favourite dinosaur as she did her hair and makeup.

At 7PM, Mollie the neighbour came over to begin babysitting and Y/N left. She kissed Milos head as she said goodbye and walked out of the front door, driving her way to Daniels house.

She didn't know what he had in store for their third date. Neither did Daniel until a couple of days ago. All he knew was that be wanted it to be special. Just them, not surrounded by loads and loads of people.

For days he had been attempting to cook and forcing his friends to try it. Day by day he got slightly better, but he was still nervous about the date to come.

He had started cooking as Y/N drove. He had done his preparation fir the meal during the day. All that was left to do now was cook it.

Just like she was, Daniel was dressed at his best. It felt incredibly strange to be dressed in a suit for a dinner in his own house. The candles were set out on the table, along with his best wine and best cutlery. This night was going to be perfect.

The doorbell rang and Daniel felt his anxiety spike. It didn't need to, it was Y/N, the person he was expecting.

When the door opened, his breath caught his his throat. He knew she was beautiful, knew she was incredibly beautiful, but this was something else. "Holy shit," he breathed as he welcomed her into the house.

Her shoes clicked against the floor as she stepped towards him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. When she pulled away the imprint of her lipstick was still there and she went to wipe it away, bur Daniel stopped her. He'd wear it with pride for the entire night.

"Milo is with a babysitter, so you've got me for the entire night," she said as Daniel led her into his kitchen.

He lit the candles and poured her some wine. The night started out as easy, light conversation. They sipped the wine slowly as they talked, and the conversation turned to heavier topics, the kinds of things they found themselves talking about late at night where she couldn't sleep and Daniel was in another country.

He tried with the dinner, he really did. But she had to step in. The recipe was open on the counter top and she cooked away.

"I'm sorry," Daniel said as he wrapped her arms around her hips. "I'm so useless."

"Shut up," she said with a laugh as she moved the food around in the pan, ensuring it cooked evenly. "It's a good thing I enjoy cooking, huh?"

She plated the food up and they sat at the table, talking their way through dinner.

"This is the third date," said Danny between bites of the food. That was delicious, but it didn't surprise him. "And, since it's the third date I was wondering if... you'd..."

It was so difficult to get the words out of his mouth. And she didn't want to assume that he wanted to take things to the next level.

Daniel groaned and finished off his glass of wine. That was all if the courage he needed. "Be my girl," he said. "I want to love you properly."

The dinner was abandoned. The moved around the table to get to each other. As soon as they were together she wrapped her arms around his neck and he placed hers on her hips, holding her flush against him.

"Yes, Danny. Oh My God, yes."

He pressed his lips against hers. Her eyes shut and her hands Oundle his hair, moving through it, tugging at the strands.

Daniel couldn't stop the groan that left his lips. His body was fully pressed against hers, pressing her against the table. "Fuck," he groaned, his grip growing tighter. He ever so slightly hiked up the skirts of her dress.

"Take me upstairs," she whispered against his lips.

Daniel picked her up. He took her into his arms and carried her through his house. It was incredibly romantic, the way he held her so tight. She couldn't help but stare at him as he carried her up the stairs. This must be how wonderful brides felt on their wedding days.

Daniel took her into her bedroom and laid her down onto the bed. As soon as he could he resumed kissing her, his body on top of hers, pressing her into the mattress. They'd kissed before, sure, but they didn't usually allow this for themselves, didn't allow for this much intimacy.

But they couldn't stay away from each other. Daniel wanted her. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything. It was a good thing she wanted him too.

Her skirts bunched up around her hips as she wrapped her legs around him. Daniel couldn't help himself; he rutted against her. She whined, her hands finding his hair, tugging slightly. He couldn't stop the groan leaving his lips.

"I need you," she whispered and rolled onto her stomach. Daniel obliged, unzipping her dress. He pushed it off of her shoulders, goose bumps following where he touched. "Danny," she whispered.

He slowly pulled her dress all of the way off until she was in nothing but lingerie beneath him. She'd taken her time choosing it out. It was her best pair, the only pair truly sexy. It was plain, with thin straps around her shoulders and her hips. A small bow sat in the centre of each piece of underwear, and the border was scalloped.

Daniel let out a low whistle. He wanted this image burned into his brain for the rest of his life. She looked so pretty laid out in front of him, laid out for him. He let his hand trail down her sides and she shivered.

He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his shirt, letting his clothes fall next to her dress. As soon as he was in nothing but his boxers, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers.

Daniel held her tight. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over so that she was sat on him, hips moving on top of his. His eyes were shut as he groaned, his grip tightening. "Fuck," he hissed and she leaned down to kiss him again.

But the kiss didn't last very long. Soon Daniel was kissing down her neck. He didn't leave a hickey, not until he got to her chest. A series of moans left her lips as he kissed her chest, paying attention to what wasn't covered by her bra. "Danny," she moaned as he reached behind and unclasped the bra.

It fell away from her chest and Daniel threw it to the side. Immediately he began sucking a dark mark into the flesh, marking her as his. Her head was thrown back and she couldn't stop her hips from gyrating against him.

But suddenly she pulled away from him. He climbed off of him and Daniel tried to follow, but she pushed him back down, keeping him laying on the bed. She shuffled down to the bed until she was between his legs and pulling at his boxers, freeing his cock.

She wrapped her fingers around his already hard length and pumped. Once, twice, before she wrapped her lips around his tip. "Holy shit," Daniel cried out, accidentally bucking his hips towards her.

He escaped from her mouth but she quickly wrapped her lips around him once again. She ran her tongue along the veiny underside and moved her lips down his shaft. Her cheeks hollowed and she closed her eyes, concentrating all of her efforts into bringing him close to the edge.

Only close. He wasn't going to cum until he'd had his turn with her. But that wasn't her decision. Daniel pulled her off of him and pulled her up. He rolled her over once again, trapping her beneath him. He kissed her, his fingers hooking around the strappy waistband of her panties.

He pulled her panties off and dropped them onto the floor. Daniel pushed his fingers gently through her folds, feeling just how wet she was. He couldn't wait to be inside of her.

And he didn't have to wait. He rolled a condom on, pushed himself inside of her and she let out a gasp, gripping onto his shoulders. "Fuck, Danny," she whispered, throwing her head back. "Holy fucking fuck."

Daniel grunted. Nothing in the world could come close to this feeling. Slowly he began moving, pulling his hips back every so slightly and pushing back in. He kept his pace even, giving her time to adjust to his length.

But Daniel sped up. She moaned and whined, crying out his name beneath him as he fucked her.

She didn't last very long. Maybe it was all of the anticipation, maybe it was the fact that she hadn't been fucked like this since before Milo was born.

Daniel fucked her through her orgasm. "That's it, sweetheart," he grunted, kissing her slowly, tenderly. "So good f'me."

He pace slowed, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he brought himself closer and closer to his orgasm. "Shit," he grunted, his hips stilling against her as he came, spilling into the condom.

"Fuck," she whispered as he pulled out of her.

Daniel got rid of the condom and climbed into the bed beside her. He wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. He kissed her head and pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her. "So, you still happy to be mine?" He asked, unable to keep the smile off of his face.

"Are you kidding me?" She said as she touched his tattoo. It hadn't escaped Daniel just how much she loved his tattoos, loved tracing them. "I don't think happy is the right word. I'd go for something like... really happy."

"Really happy then," Daniel said and kissed her again.

They laid like that for just a few minutes, enjoying each others company. "What do we tell the kids?" She asked as she reached for her phone.

"The truth," Daniel answered as she turned the phone on and checked the time.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath. She jumped out of bed and quickly got herself dressed. "Fuck, I've got to get back to Milo and the sitter."

Daniel did the same. He jumped out of bed and got back into his trousers and shirt. But he left off the tie and didn't button his shirt all of the way. They'd just gotten done boning, but fuck she wanted him again. But there was no time, she needed to get back to Milo.

"Let me come with you," Daniel said, unlocking his phone to call her a cab.

Y/N stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She turned towards Daniel, undeniable smile one of face. "You seriously want to come with me?"

"Of course I do, you're my girlfriend."

Girlfriend. She loved the sound of that.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[brinkofinsanity]

Game Winning Goal

a/n: guys i gotta be careful now. jamie has my number…

warnings: no plot, just porn, mentions of high school chorus 🫣🫣

@drysdalesv @shy4turcs you guys are amazing 🫶

There was something about your fiancé leaving the house in an all-black suit. Was it because it brought you back to high school choir? Was it because he looked good in everything? Was it because you were ovulating? Perhaps it was a mix of all three. You decided to stay at home and watch the Flyers/Sharks game, knowing it would be an easy win for Jamie. Before the game started, you treated yourself to a spa day, hoping to distract yourself from thoughts of Jamie in an all-black suit. So far, it was going well until Jamie stepped onto the ice for puck drop, and all those thoughts rushed back.

Jamie played exceptionally well tonight and scored a goal. You knew he would be in a good mood when he came home, so you hurried to put on his favorite pair of lacy black underwear and matching balconette bra. For an added touch, you threw on his alternate Flyers jersey to complement the black lingerie.

You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter as you started to imagine all the things he would do to you as soon as he walked into your apartment.

Suddenly, you heard your front door unlock, and Jamie called out, “I’m home!” He knew he would find you sprawled out on your bed dressed in one of your lingerie sets.

You waited in the doorway for your fiancé to meet you in your bedroom. As soon as you saw him, you immediately kissed him, and he started leading you to the edge of the bed. Laying you down gently, Jamie deepened the kiss and ran his free hand up his jersey, unclipping your bra. “I don’t want anything in the way of me and my beautiful girl,” he said when you gave him a puzzled look. He pulled down your underwear so you were just in his jersey. He pushed your legs open to see how wet you were while you waited for him to come home.

“Just as I suspected. You’re absolutely drenched.”

“Only for you, Jamie.”

You could feel his stubble on your inner thighs as he gave you a few kisses. “Jamie, I need you right now. I’ve waited forever,” you groaned when you realized he was going to tease you until you were begging for his dick. Suddenly, you felt his tongue flick your clit, and you writhed at the unexpected sensation. After five years, he somehow managed to find new ways to torture you. You grabbed his hair to make him speed up his tongue movements. Without warning, he added two fingers into you and started hitting your G-spot repeatedly. He wanted you to come at least once with just his mouth. He began to speed up some more once he realized you were close. “Jamie, please, I’m so close,” you said on the brink of your first orgasm. All of a sudden, you felt your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Holy shit, Jamie. That was absolutely incredible.”

“Well, that's good 'cause we aren’t even close to being done,” he replied.

You could feel some stubble burn in between your legs, but it turned you on even more. You loved his stubble. He looked good clean-shaven, but there was something rugged about seeing him with some stubble on, especially when he’s on the ice and his chain peeks out.

You undressed Jamie and pushed him onto the bed. “You did so well tonight, so I want to reward you.” You thought about taking off his jersey, but you knew he got turned on seeing you in his jersey while you had sex.

You straddled his hips before giving some hickeys along his neck and his chest. You could feel jamie grab your hips a little bit tighter wanting to fuck you until you couldn’t walk the next day. Answering his prayers you sank down on his rock hard dick and started bouncing up and down feeling his dick hit your g-spot every time. You could tell he wasn’t going to last much longer as he started meeting your movements halfway and his face became flushed. “Please baby let me come.” your fiancé whimpered when your movements sped up some. Feeling his dick twitch inside of you, you decided to go even faster.

Jamie flipped you over so he could fuck you from behind while he could see his last name sprawled across your back showing who you belonged to. Jamie finished deep inside and kept fucking you while you both came down from your highs.

Jamie layed down next to you and pulled you into his arms while his cum was dripping out of you. After a minute jamie got up to grab you a washcloth and one of his shirts and cleaned you up carefully before laying back down next to you. “You did so good for me princess.” Jamie whispered to you before falling asleep.

[lukadarkwater-main]

What better way to celebrate 4 million dollars raised for charity than Smith in a gimp suit(?)

Bonus:

[steveharringtonat3am]

Free use with Steve

kinktober masterlist!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: roomate!steve, free use agreement (fully consensual), an allusion to sex, hair pulling, degradation, a little bit of bondage, penetrative sex, edging

a/n: shoutout to the loml @ddejavvu for helping me out with some characterization!! dedicating this one to her as 1/2 of her birthday present!! <3

When I had first seen Steve’s ad for a roommate, I hadn’t paid any mind to the lack of a rent price in the ad. I figured he would let me know if he actually wanted me to move in. So after he showed me around and we talked for a bit about all the major stuff, I asked about it. And he gave the most intriguing answer I’ve ever heard.

“Well, I’m gonna offer you two options. You could pay half of the rent, so about $900 a month or…you could-could pay nothing.” This option seems to make him nervous, as he shifts slightly in his seat.

“Pay nothing?”

“See, that comes with a catch. If you choose to pay nothing then I would cover you and…you would have to return the favour.” A hint of red colours his cheeks. While I admit it suits him, it gives me a hint as to where this conversation is going.

“And how would I do that?”

“By being a-available at all times.” He smiles sheepishly and fiddles with his hoodie strings

“Available for…what exactly?”

“Sex.” When he says it I think I’ve misheard him. But…he couldn’t have said anything else. He takes my staring as a cue to explain further.

“Well…that sounds bad. You don’t have to have sex with me, especially not right away. And you’re perfectly welcome to pay your half of the rent and completely forget about this. But I like you. And my job is…pretty stressful. So if you would be okay with me relieving that stress with you, I’d be happy to cover the full rent.” He smiles softly and I take a second to process all this. I mean, I did think he was really cute. And definitely my type.

Also, I didn’t have many other options for an apartment. This place was in a good neighbourhood, I had my own bathroom, a nice kitchen, and plenty of natural light. I would be crazy to give that up. And I would be even crazier to give up living rent-free in exchange for having occasional sex with my very hot roommate.

“You know what? Sure. You’ve got a deal, Harrington. Just don’t be a perv.” His laugh is boyish, grinning as he sips his water.

“You’ve got my word.”

So, I moved in a week later. Frankly, it was a great deal. Steve was incredibly sweet and we ended up spending a lot of time together. Which of course, had its perks.

“Holy shit,” I whisper into the hot room, as Steve collapses next to me, panting.

“Holy shit is right. I figured it would take at least another month before we hooked up.” He smiles at me and I can’t help but return it.

“I really thought the only times we would do anything would be whenever you wanna take your stress out on me,” I say as he tugs me close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head.

“Well, I had to give you a little preview of what you’re signing up for. Would hate to condemn you to mediocre sex.” He chuckles and I smile up at him.

“I don’t think anything about you is mediocre, Steve Harrington.”

After that, he really took advantage of our agreement. He started off slow, wandering hands when I was doing the dishes, gently groping me if I was near, a lewd comment every once in a while. Honestly, I liked it. It made me feel so wanted. I found myself craving every glance, comment, and touch.

When he finally upped the ante, bending me over the counter one night after dinner to fuck me with almost no warning, it was practically a dream come true.

And boy did Steve know it.

“Fucking stupid motherfuckers.” I hear Steve cursing under his breath as he slams the front door behind him. I pause my movie, turning to look at him. He’s toeing his shoes off, furiously tugging at his tie. I know how much he hated the thing. It represented everything he hated while working at his dad’s firm.

“Bad day?” I question, finally gaining his attention. The second his eyes focus on me, they darken.

“Mhm. Very…stressful.” He crosses the room quickly. His hand gently pushes my hair away from my face before gripping it tightly. Steve knows to grab at the base of the hairs, so it doesn’t hurt as much but I still wince.

“I-I can help with that?” I peer up at him and he breaks for a second, smiling fondly.

“You’re such a good girl…turn around?” He grips the fabric of his tie in his hands, making me grin and turn. The second I’m situated, he smacks me with it. It barely stings, but the surprise makes me yelp.

“Be quiet. Don’t wanna hear you.” He grips my wrists in one hand, wrapping his tie around them. This was not a new thing, so I don’t squirm. Steve enjoyed having my hands bound while he used me.

I try not to move as he tugs my pyjama pants down just enough to expose my ass. Luckily for him, it was laundry night so I had forgone panties.

“Such a slut.” He mumbles, ever a fan of degradation. His hand runs over the fat of my ass, squeezing the flesh appreciatively. He pulls away to undo his pants, the metal of his belt buckle clicking as he drops the leather to the floor. A small part of me is disappointed. I’d been hoping he’d spank me at least a few times. It always hurt so well.

I feel the head of his cock line up with my entrance and I bite my lip hard to keep from moaning.

“Fucking hell…” He curses as he starts pushing in. He goes slower than normal, maybe trying to make this last extra long. Steve was always a big fan of spending hours bringing both of us to the edge, just to stop so that we could do it all over again.

“Please…” I whisper before I can think. He stops and I tense, ready for him to spank me hard.

“I told you to be fucking quiet.” Before I can apologize, he slams into me. I gasp, barely able to catch my breath as he starts pounding into me.

“S-such a stupid toy.” He moans softly, nails digging into me. Moans continue to slip out of me as the head of his cock slams into that spot that makes me go crazy. He doesn’t bother reprimanding though, focusing on chasing his release.

“This pussy always feels so fucking good.” He groans. I can feel my orgasm building, the coil tightening with every deep thrust. I know Steve is on the edge, so I have to cum before he does. No way does he spend extra time on me now that I made noise.

“Shit!” He curses and I feel him cum. As his thrusts slow, my orgasm ebbs away. I whine weakly but he just chuckles and pulls out slowly. Cum slowly leaks out of me and runs down my thighs as Steve leans down to whisper in my ear.

“Don’t you know? Toys don’t get to cum.”

hope you enjoyed!!

[herofics]

Hello, how are you? i would like to ask if you could do a imagine if you don't mind with hawks please where he gave him one of his feathers and at some point he starts to feel an extra heartbeat and realizes that she's pregnant, but no one even knew the reader with fluff please

I’m good. This is such a cute idea. I think he wouldn’t exactly hear the heartbeat though, it's more like he can feel/sense it through the feather, but anyway doesn’t really matter. I loved writing this, thank you for requesting :D

You woke up to an empty bed, but that wasn’t really out of the norm. Keigo was a busy man, being one of the top heroes of the country certainly kept him occupied and while you wished he would have more time to spend with you, you understood the position he was in.

It took you a while before you managed to bring yourself to get out of bed. It was pretty cold outside, and according to the weather app on your phone, it had already hit freezing temperatures last night. You couldn’t help but hope Keigo had put on some warmer clothes than what he usually wore. He hated the cold after all, you knew that well.

When you walked to the kitchen you noticed a little present and a note on the table.

“I forgot to give you this yesterday. Happy second anniversary!” the note read.

You had indeed celebrated your second anniversary last night, but the night had mostly been spent in the bedroom, after which you’d fallen asleep in his arms. Knowing Keigo, he wouldn’t have wanted to wake you up, so leaving the present for you to find was a very Keigo-thing to do.

You opened the present to find a necklace with one of his feathers as the pendant. It was so beautiful, the golden chain was glimmering in the sunlight that was coming through the window, and you couldn’t help but smile.

About a month and a half had gone past since your anniversary, and you had only taken the necklace off when you went to sleep. You always wore it under your hero suit when working, it was like a good luck charm and you felt like it kept you safe.

Hawks had only had the chance to see you about once a week after your little anniversary celebration, but he felt like there was something different about you lately. He would soon find out why.

The feather Hawks had given you had started picking up something recently. He wasn’t really sure what it was though, it felt like something was making small thumping sounds, but he was yet to realize what it really was.

“Can you pick up some pickles for me when you come over?” the text read, as Hawks was flying to your place.

He set down on top of a building for a second to answer your text.

“Pickles?” Hawks muttered, you hated pickles so he was quite confused on what this was about.

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling out with his mind for the feather he had given you. He could feel you walking around somewhere, presumably in your apartment since it was quite late already and your shift at the agency you worked at had ended hours ago already. The little thumping feeling or sound was still there though and he focused on it properly for the first time.

“A heartbeat?” Hawks muttered.

His eyes opened wide in realization and he almost fell off the building he was perched on. A second heartbeat.

“Holy shit” he gasped as he covered his mouth in shock. “I’m gonna be a dad?”

Hawks couldn’t help but smile. He’d never really thought about whether he wanted kids or not, but now that the situation was in front of him, he found himself getting incredibly excited about the prospect.

He was in such a hurry to get over to your place, he completely forgot the pickles.

You were sitting on the couch when Hawks basically busted down the door to get into the apartment.

“(Name)!?!?” he shouted excitedly as he slammed the door shut behind himself.

You jumped up, but you were almost tackled back down onto the couch when Keigo came at you a bit too fast.

“Is something wrong?!” you asked with panic in your voice.

“No, no! There’s nothing wrong!” he assured you, still seeming very excited about something.

“Okay, what is it then?” you asked, baffled by his demeanor.

“You should probably sit down for this” Keigo smiled widely.

“Okay?” you said as the both of you sat down on the couch.

Keigo felt like he was about to burst if he couldn’t tell you right away.

“I’m pretty sure you’re pregnant” he said, squeezing your hands.

“Huh?” you felt like your jaw must have hit the floor with the shock you just got.

“You know that feather necklace I gave you? I can feel stuff through it and while your heartbeat is really strong I can sense a smaller heartbeat within you too” he said excitedly.

“Are you sure?” you asked, not really believing what you were hearing.

“Pretty sure yeah, but you should probably go to a doctor to confirm it”

“Wow, well that explains the weird craving for pickles” you said.

“Are you okay? I know we haven’t really talked about something like this that much, but I didn’t think you would be upset about it?” Keigo said.

“Oh nonono, I’m not upset, I’m just in shock. I guess? I actually feel a bit light headed” you assured him.

“Should you lay down?” Keigo asked.

“Yeah, probably” you exhaled deeply.

Hawks made some space for you on the couch and you laid down, placing your head on his lap.

You just laid there quietly for a moment, while Keigo stroked your hair.

“Hey Keigo?” you asked, feeling less light headed now.

“Yes dove?” 

“Are we ready for this?” you said and put a hand on your stomach.

“Honestly?” he said.

“Yes please” you sighed, looking up at him.

“I don’t know, but we’re gonna try our best and be the best parents we can”

You were quiet for a while looking at your stomach and then back up at him, before saying with a smile: “You’re gonna be a great dad you know”

Keigo smiled widely, and you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes actually sparkle.

“Well be waiting for you baby bird” Keigo said, putting his hand on top of yours on your stomach and placing a kiss on your forehead.

[faithinhome]

Neighbor Next Door - Stephen Strage/ Female OC

18+ | minors please DNI

Summary: anna had always thought the doctor next door was attractive. and one interaction left her itching to get more of him.

Tags: age gap (25F & 40M), cheating (but not in the way you’d think), strong language, smut.

Chapter 5: High Infidelity

two days had gone by and nothing. strange hadn’t shown up at her door again. they’d sometimes run into each other and say hi but not much happened. sam assured her it was still too early for him to say anything especially now that christine was actively involved.

at about 6 on friday night, anna glanced out her peephole and saw strange leaving, dressed handsomely in a suit. she couldn’t believe she was missing out on this.

later, anna was hanging out with her friends and they’d run out of snacks. after a serious 3 part battle of rock paper scissors, anna was chosen to get the snacks from the grocery store that was in the building. she groaned but pulled on her hoodie. she flipped her friends off before locking the door, hearing a man approach her neighbour,s door.

anna looked up to see a handsome man in a shirt and pants, carrying a pizza box. he smiled at her briefly before ringing the bell. anna smiled back at him before scurrying away, wanting to leave before christine answered the door.

holy shit.

was christine still cheating on stephen? it was him that she’d seen leave earlier tonight right? he hadn’t just planned to stay in and invite their friend over or something? no, of course it was him. she’d seen his face.

anna’s heart sank. that man did not deeerve this. he was so incredibly loyal and this is what he got in return. it wasn’t fair.

she quickly bought the snacks and hurried up to her apartment.

“guys, what the actual fuck” she spoke up as soon as the door was closed behind her. “i saw some fucking hunk ring the strange’s doorbell. he had a pizza box. smelt like he was definitely expecting to get laid tonight.”

“i would personally not eat pizza right before i’m getting laid” wanda informed before grabbing the snacks from anna.

“wanda, focus!” anna removed her hoodie and tossed it aside. “what if she’s cheating on strange again?”

“you must be thrilled” sam joked before grabbing a bag of chips.

“i’m really not” anna spoke genuinely before taking her seat on her couch. “this is beyond fucked up.”

“how do you know they’re not just hanging out?”

“you’re right” anna nervously chewed her lip. “i just. i don’t know, he was all dressed up and shit”

“i mean sam always shows up to our casual hang outs like he’s about to go to a harry styles concert so” wanda giggled as sam shot her a look and threw a chip her way.

anna thought about it. “i mean, there’s a difference between dressing to get laid and dressing to go to a harry styles concert.”

“what exactly are you implying by that?” sam gasped, feigning offence.

anna rolled her eyes. “not implying anything. do you guys really think it’s just a friend?”

“why don’t you go and find out?” wanda shrugged.

anna wondered if wanda truly ever had a single rational thought in her head at any given point.

but then as she paused and thought about it, she technically could. she could show up under the pretence of something and observe the dynamic. if the dude was shirtless, something was definitely up. but what if they saw her through her peephole?

she brought this up to the two and surprisingly, sam volunteered to go because “that man was too gorgeous to be cheated on again.”

they decided that sam would go under the pretence of needing some salt because he was cooking but had stopped half way to realize he had no salt and he couldn’t let the food go to waste.

it sounded like a good enough reason until sam was ringing their doorbell. at that moment, it sounded like the most stupid fucking excuse in the whole world.

but it was too late now because the door was swinging open.

“hi, may i help you?” the man answered the door, dressed in a robe.

oh no.

“hi yes” he smiled. “sorry i came to visit my friend who lives on this floor. and i was making her some dinner because she injured her leg and i’ve been looking after her” sam had not intended to improvise so much. “but i just realized she ran out of salt. and i know we’ve never met before but i was wondering if you guys could let me borrow some?”

the man raised a brow as christine walked over. she seemed a bit tipsy as the guy explained the situation.

“oh aren’t you a good friend!” she swooned. yup, definitely drunk. she grabbed the container and gave him some salt. she was being so nice to him he felt bad for deceiving her. it had been awkward waiting with her male mistress who was clearly there to make sure sam wasn’t actually someone he needed to protect christine from.

and that pissed sam off a little.

he thanked christine profusely and pretended to walk away to some place else before hurredily entering anna’s apartment. “fuck, you guys. they’re definitely fucking.”

“oh god no” anna stood up worriedly.

“yeah he answered the door in a robe” sam said. “and christine was definitely tipsy as hell. real friendly drunk though.”

“maybe a bit too friendly” wanda raised a brow.

“oh god you guys, what the fuck do i do now? do i tell him?”

silence fell upon the room as the three looked at each other.

“i mean, that would be the right thing to do” wanda said. “and it’s not our place to. both things are right. i mean, i guess whichever way you go, you wouldn’t be wrong”

“she’s right” sam sighed as he sat back down.

anna followed sam as she got comfy on the couch.

“i mean she’s literally getting all jealous and shit over you” wanda said. “and he’s listening. probably under the pretense that she cares about him or whatever. i mean, how are you gonna cheat on someone but be jealous of them hanging out with someone else?”

“you have a very good point” anna murmured sadly. “i have to tell him. he has to know.”

“oh boy” sam sighed. “this is gonna be rough.”

***

strange had had a pretty boring night. he was glad to be going home to his wife. he’d decided to take his wife’s jealousy in a positive light. maybe they were getting their spark back again. maybe things could go back to normal again.

he stepped into his apartment to find christine on the couch.

she smiled up at him and walked over, wrapping her arms around his neck. “hi sweetheart. how was the lecture?”

strange leant in to kiss her softly, murmuring between kisses. “missed you so much.”

“yeah?” christine giggled against his lips.

“fuck yeah” he murmured before running his hands up her back, pulling her closer.

the mystery man had obviously left before stephen came in and christine wasn’t tipsy anymore. she’d been careful to not drink too much so she could be sober when stephen came home because she didn’t want him getting paranoid again.

much to her excitement, her husband had finally made love to her for the second time since he’d caught her cheating.

he was a bit rusty because they weren’t regular at all but he kept reminding himself to be happier now. because their relationship felt like it was finally going back to normal.

***

the very next night, anna was at the apartment grocery store again. she saw strange pass by and head to the park, cigerrete in his hand.

she quickly paid for her stuff and walked out. she had to tell him. she couldn’t keep it in. he had to fucking know. she’d seen the two this morning. leaving their apartment happily and appearing extra affectionate. he had no idea.

or maybe they’d finally declared an open relationship and were happier with that. but it honestly didn’t seem like it.

either way, she had to tell him.

she followed after him and walked up to where he was sitting on the bench.

“hi doc” she spoke up softly as to not startle him. strange looked around, smiling as he saw his beautiful neighbor. she was wearing an oversized hoodie and a pair of shorts, her hood drawn up. he thought she looked adorable and somehow sexy at the same time.

“hi anna.”

anna ignored the butterflies in her stomach when he said her name.

“may i?” she motioned to the space beside him.

he seemed to hesitate for a moment that honestly broke anna’s heart. he really didn’t care about her anymore, did he? and how would he react if he found out the wife he was being so faithful to was probably cheating on him?

she wanted to be as sensitive as she could about the whole thing.

she sat down beside him and pushed her hood back down, letting her hair spill out, catching strange’s attention as he gazed at her features.

but anna was too in her head to notice. “so how was the lecture?”

she couldn’t meet his eyes, instead focusing on her feet as she kicked lightly at the dirt.

“honestly a bit boring” he spoke, putting his cigarette out away from her, which anna thought was super respectful and it only made her like him more. “sorry again, about the whole thing.”

“hey no worries at all” she smiled. “so not super into psychiatry, are you then?”

“i mean it’s not my field” he spoke, gazing out at the park.

she nodded. “um, doc, i gotta tell you something.”

he looked over at her, brows furrowed. “is everything okay?”

“i mean, i don’t know. so, i… i really don’t know how to say this but i just feel like i have to.”

stephen’s heart beat picked up. god, she wasn’t going to confess some sort of feelings, was she? he would not know how to deal with that.

“so the other night, i was coming back to my apartment after grabbing some snacks for my friends cause we were hanging out. and i uh, i saw a man outside your door on friday night with a pizza. like around 8?” she glanced at him briefly. strange looked away and straight ahead, his expression unreadable.

“and well i went inside and told my friends cause i was like ‘oh i saw this handsome guy’, you know as one does when they see a attractive person” she was clearly glossing over some details so they didn’t sound like gossiping rats. but she’s probably fucked it up by saying he was attractive. so much for being sensitive. “anyway, then like, it occurred to me that you were probably at the lecture and um. so wanda had heard from a friend who i don’t know how she knew, that uh, christine had… cheated before? but we didn’t want to make assumptions so sam kind of went over to see under the pretence of needing salt or whatever, and he had a robe on and stuff. the -the pizza guy. and christine seemed sort of drunk, and i just wanted to tell you this in case. you know. just in case, you didn’t know about it but now you’re informed. i just felt like i had to.”

she finally looked over at stephen, her heart dropping as she noticed his expressions darken and his jaw clenching.

“so what are you implying?” strange looked over at her, studying her with mild annoyance.

“i- nothing. i mean. i just initially thought, what if she’s cheating again? i just felt like it was my duty to say something.”

“duty to say a lie?”

“what? no”

“cause when i came back from work, there was no sign of pizza. and christine definitely wasn’t drunk. and what was your friend doing snooping around at our apartment anyway? that’s a bit messed up.”

anna swallowed the lump in her throat, looking away because she couldn’t face stephen’s angry glare. “i was just concerned. i think of you as a friend, stephen”

“we’re not friends, we’re neighbors.”

ouch.

“i really didn’t mean to offend” anna tried her best to hide the quiver in her voice. “i did this out of pure genuine concern for you and nothing else. i promise. it could be nothing. could be just a friend visiting but i had to tell you.”

“how about this, neighbor? maybe next time, mind your business and don’t go around snooping in someone else’s business. why are you so desperate to break this marriage anyway? something about this is so fucked up.”

anna stayed quiet because she was scared if she spoke, she would start crying. she kept her eyes trained to the ground, afraid of crying in front of the man.

he stood up, frustrated she wasn’t saying anything. “you’ve gone too far. leave my wife alone.”

with that, he walked away.

anna bit down on her lip harshly, looking around to see if anyone had witnessed that. she felt so humiliated. she got up once she couldn’t see him anymore and scurried to her apartment, sobbing as soon as she closed the door behind herself.

***

“okay this is the second time he’s been mad at you for literally no reason” sam was mad. why did stephen think it was okay to treat anna like this?

“i know” anna spoke softly, frowning.

“i don’t like seeing you sad over this” wanda spoke, shifting closer to anna and rubbing her back softly.

it was weird how much this was affecting her. but then again, no one likes being told off so harshly when they were only trying to do the right thing, no matter who it’s coming from.

sam and wanda planned a day for anna so they could go out instead of anna sitting on her own, wallowing in her sorrow and self- pity.

***

the next day at work, strange had finally sat down to eat after a long and successful surgery. and he couldn’t stop thinking about what anna said.

surely she wouldn’t lie about any of this.

and why would whoever this guy was, be in a fucking robe if they were just casually hanging out?

and didn’t christine say she couldn’t attend the lecture because of work?

he’d lashed out at anna and felt awful. he’d gotten extremely defensive at the time, especially because he was finally starting to believe that things were turning around.

he was still working towards it, taking the first step and it was shot down right away.

and also, it was a bit humiliating being told you’re being cheated on, again. with an attractive man, no less. he was sure anna meant nothing by this. but it felt like she’d said that on purpose at the time. even though rationally, why would she?

and strange had defended his wife, because he felt like he needed to. he had to pretend things were okay. he’d just felt so humiliated and beaten down.

but christine had a history of cheating. if he did a little snooping, he shouldn’t feel guilty about taking his neighbor’s word over trusting her. because well, his wife had given him so many reasons in the past to be suspicious.

so stephen went about getting schedules accessed through a friend he knew that worked in administration. and when he found out christine was not in on friday night, his heart sank.

so he decided it was time for a plan.

he told christine he had to stay late at work the next friday night. just to give her enough time to prepare her infidelities in case that’s what she was doing.

honestly, stephen felt guilty. for so many things.

for deceiving his wife. for lashing out at anna for telling him something that he was now considering a possibility, but praying for it to turn out otherwise.

there was a deep feeling in his heart that christine was probably cheating again. but that was too painful to think about, so strange kept it in the far back of his head, refusing to even really consider it.

that friday night, he stayed at a starbucks for an hour and decided to head home. he couldn’t let christine know it was him coming back home. anna’s plan had honestly been perfect.

but what kind of a hypocrite would he be going back to her to ask her for help?

so stephen had no other option. he just had to make do with what he could. he rang the doorbell and stepped as farther aside as he could so he wouldn’t be visible.

and when the door swung open, his heart sank.

“stephen?” mark’s mouth was agape, and was he in his fucking pyjamas?

rage filled up stephen instantly and all rational thinking went out the window.

“what the fuck?” he shoved him as he went past him and threw his bag aside.

christine scurried out, tying her robe around her body, her face covered in shock. “stephen, oh my god.”

“what the fuck is he doing here?” stephen commanded, his voice loud as he glared his wife down.

mark closed the door behind him and went up to stephen, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“back the fuck off, you son of a bitch” strange shrugged him off before returning his glare to christine.

“i- he was” christine tried to find the words, putting her wine glass away. “he just um came over to hang out.”

stephen let out a bitter laugh and stormed past her and into their bedroom.

“and why would that, pray tell me, include taking off your fucking clothes?” stephen yelled as he saw their clothes strewn across the floor, spotting the very same lingerie christine had worn for him the first night they’d had sex after the whole affair.

stephen’s eyes burnt with tears , the lump in his throat painful to swallow.

christine came up behind him and she knew it was game over.

“stephen no please i’m sorry” she began to sob, approaching him and cupping his face in her hands.

he pushed her hands away, letting his tears fall. “no. no no no. not again. not when i thought things were going okay. anna was right.”

christine stopped, her brows furrowing. “anna?? did she fucking do this? that fucking whore, i knew she was out to get you.”

“you’re the one to fucking talk!” stephen retaliated. “you don’t get to stand there and act like the fucking victim! it wasn’t even her, it was her friend! and were they wrong, christine? do you really think you have the right to be fucking angry here?”

“what was i supposed to do stephen?” christine sobbed, wrapped her arms around herself. “you were so distracted by that fucking neighbor!”

“god, shut the fuck up, christine! you’re so fucked up. that’s so fucked up. i can’t believe you’re still playing the fucking victim! i’m out of here.”

he stormed past her and stopped, glaring at mark. “you gather your fucking clothes and get the fuck out of my apartment, you vermin.”

he pushed past him and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

stephen spent the night at a hotel. wishing for comfort and a reassuring presence.

but sitting alone in that room, with no one to talk to, he realized how incredibly lonely he was.

he let himself cry as he crawled up into his bed, silently praying for this night to be over already.

***

anna had not had a good start to her morning. she’d woken up to a basket of scrabble letters spelling out “whore” at her front door. she gasped as she picked it up, biting her lip.

this… couldn’t have been stephen,could it?

“what the fuck?” she exclaimed in frustration as she closed the door. “are you fucking kidding me right now?”

the next day she woke up to a letter that had the words slut on the back and when she opened it, all it said was “stop interfering with my marriage.”

and that was fucking it for her.

she grabbed that letter and went knocking at stephen’s door incessantly.

a tired stephen opened the door, surprised to see anna. “oh hey good morning, anna”

“seriously?” she snapped as she held up the envelope, and the letter. “you do realize this is fucking harassment right? and how much effort did it take to find the right basket and just the right scrabble set to spell out whore on my fucking door yesterday?”

“anna, i… i don’t understand” he frowned as he grabbed the envelope and read the letter, his jaw tightening.

christine had been going on and on about how this was all anna’s fault and begging for forgiveness. and he had a feeling this had something to do with her. he couldn’t believe she’d stoop so low.

he still felt protective over his wife. that kind of care and love didn’t vanish overnight just because they did you wrong. but anna was being seriously harassed and even though he hated putting his wife on the spot, it was the right thing to do.

“would you like to come in, anna?” stephen spoke up softly. “i… i think i know what-“

“come in for what?” she spat, her tone bitter. “so i can be degraded and humiliated again? calling me a whore? a fucking slut? seriously what is this? are we in fucking high school? in some fucked up mean girls movie?”

“what’s going on?” christine came up behind them before strange could respond.

“did you leave this at anna’s door?” he asked christine sternly, but his eyes were sad. he’d never thought christine would stoop so low.

her jaw clenched as she looked at the envelope. “i don’t know what you’re talking about”

“christine, this is literally your handwriting.”

“who’s side are you on?”

“you owe her an apology.”

“she owes me an apology for wrecking my marriage.”

“you know very well you did that yourself” he hissed.

“okay seriously, i don’t know what the fuck is going on between you two” anna was starting to lose her patience. “but i don’t fucking need this. i don’t know what fucking games you’re playing and how i’m a fucking part of this but christine” she looked at her, maintaining unwavering eye contact. “you keep this up and the medical board will fucking hear about this.” she snatched the envelope and the letter back from stephen. “i have proof and a witness. and you two, please leave me the fuck alone.”

with that, anna reached out to their door and slammed it shut, not wanting to be a part of this shit show any longer.

***

it was like things kept getting worse for anna. she didn’t really even get to mourn the loss of strange because she’d got a call just next morning from her mom, telling her that her cousin, someone she loved growing up, was in critical condition and had been in the hospital for days now.

anna thanked god she had a remote job and a flexible schedule. she packed a suitcase immediately and headed out the door, her hair a mess and her eyes appeared sunken.

strange was just coming back from wherever, looking handsome as always. he stopped when he saw anna.

“anna? hi.”

she looked at him and away, locking the door. “anna, is everything okay?”

“i thought we were just supposed to mind our business” was all anna said as she walked past the man. it brought her no joy to talk to him like that. but she couldn’t handle his constant mood swings. strange looked away, hurt evident in his eyes. not that anna knew, she’d barely looked at him.

he sighed and went back to his apartment. he didn’t know what to do about his marriage. all he knew was he needed some personal time. if only christine would let him have it.

because she’d constantly try to beg him to not leave her. she couldn’t even give him time and space, let alone her loyalty. did he really want a marriage this hard and awful?

stephen strange was only growing apart from christine, although he cried himself to sleep every night. he loved christine, but he hated her. it was awful.

and he honestly felt like he had no one to talk to.

except when sam had come around to water anna’s plants while she was gone and saw him sulking at the park. he looked awful, like all life had been drained out of him.

and he felt like he had to go comfort him. they were there when it was time to gossip and snoop around and he sure as hell should be there for the man when he was at his low.

and surprisingly for him, strange had let him stay and talked to him, thanking him for his company after. it became a regular thing. sam and stephen sat down whenever sam came to water anna’s plants. he told stephen where she was but he couldn’t really provide him with any updates because she wasn’t contacting him as much.

anna wanted to stay by her cousin’s side forever. but eventually, she had to return to her apartment. her cousin was doing a bit better but she was still under critical care.

as wanda walked beside her, helping her bring her stuff back up to her apartment, she spotted sam and stephen sitting together in the park. “what the hell?”

“yeah” wanda spoke softly, worried anna might get mad. “um, it turns out stephen’s pretty much alone with no one to talk to. and sam felt bad for snooping so he figured he should at least try and be there for the guy.”

anna wasn’t mad at all. she had other things that were occupying her mind and honestly, she thought sam was doing the right thing. she always told her friends about everything and couldn’t imaging stephen going through something so awful on his own. he deserved companionship, even if he’d done her wrong.

***

“how’s uh, how’s anna holding up?” stephen asked sam the night after she’d returned.

turns out him and sam shared a love for the same type of music and were actually sort of becoming friends. but it was as if there was an unspoken boundary neither wanted to cross, considering sam was anna’s best friend.

“not great” sam sighed before passing the joint over to stephen. “the doctors aren’t letting on much and she hates the wait.”

“that’s awful” stephen frowned before taking a puff. “has she been uh, taking care of herself?”

“barely” sam sighed. “me and wanda are trying our best but we can only do so much. she’s started stepping out more, laughing more. so that’s good.”

stephen felt awful about anna. especially remembering the last conversation he’d had with her. “and is she okay with us, hanging out?”

“yeah” sam smiled. “anna’s pretty forgiving. really kind. she asks about you everyday.”

stephen felt himself smiling softly, nodding. “hey, sam?”

“hm?”

“my friends having a party this sunday. he’s invited all his colleagues and encouraged us to bring our friends. why don’t you, wanda, and anna join me? i’d love to have you guys there. and anna can get out a bit more too.”

sam shrugged. “i’ll have to ask her. if she says no, can i still come along?”

stephen smiled. “of course.”

…

a/n: hi guys, i’m back! sorry if this reads more like a filler but fillers are crucial okay 😁. and yes i named the chapter after a taylor swift song and i’m very proud of myself lol. hope you guys liked it. i’m very grateful to all of you for being here, you guys have no idea 💗💗💗 let me know what you thought and see you all next week!!

link to the fic index : Neighbor Next Door

TAGLIST

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[hotforharrysheart]

Coachella Virgin Part 2

"So, how's he holdin' up?" you say as you exit the car that’s pulled up in front of Harry’s trailer.

"Nervous, but he looks amazing!" says Lambert’s assistant.

You beam. “Can I go in?”

Before the assistant can even answer, the door flies open and Jeffery’s face pops out. “Get in here!”

"Jeffery, wait what's going on, is he Ok?"

"He's good, but he's about to be a hellva lot better!"

You blush.

“You look great by the way,” he says.

You look down at your outfit, do a little shimmy and say, "Thanks, I feel pretty great. Where's my man?"

You step through the door way and can smell him before you see him. Your breath catches in your throat.

He's standing with his back to you at first and your eyes immediately go to his bum which is covered, well, ALL of him is covered in large, rainbow-mirrored sequins. The jumpsuit emphasizes his narrow waist and shows off his incredible biceps.

But when he turns around....His chest is on full display and you feel your mouth water. God, you love that damn butterfly...for fuck's sake, it's just there...glaringly, painfully sexy.

“H…,” you breathe out, “Holy shit…” Your fingers automatically go to your mouth.

He says, "Can you all leave us for a while?"

You look around biting your forefinger while everyone scatters out the door. He’s like The Godfather, you think to yourself.

He hears the door shut but he doesn’t move towards you. He just stands there, hands on his hips, staring at you. His eyes slowly move down your body, drinking you in.

You say softly, "I wanna jump up in your arms so badly, but I'll mess us both up."

He says, "And I wanna run my hands up your legs so bad.” Instead, he runs his hands through his hair, "You like?"

You move towards him slowly, your hands on his chest. “I love it.” You run your hands over and inside the jumpsuit and graze his nipples, "You look so fuckin' sexy baby. What I wanna know is what you have on under this sparkly thing?" you say running your hands down to his belly button.

He smirks. “You’ll know tha answer to tha’ in a few hours, baby.” He steps back. “Now, let’s have a look at ya…Alessandro’s really out done himself wi’ this lingerie.” His hands moving to your crotch, fingers lightly pulling your panties away from your skin.

You can feel the tips of his fingers graze your center and you moan.

“I wan’ ya wet an’ ready fo’ me after my set, understand?” He leans forward and rubs his nose against yours, lips millimeters away as he says, "An’ those strappy sandals, mmm, might have ta find a use fo’ those laces later on..."

You gasp against his mouth. "Harry, I'm already wet and ready, so wet and ready....wish this thing had a zipper so I could get my mouth on you, really wanted to taste you before you go on..." you say teasing his lips and rubbing his chest. “Scared to touch you…might break you.”

“Oh sweet girl…it’s me that’s gonna break you,” he says with a grin.

You can't resist...you cup his cock and balls through the sequins..."Careful, mister, this suit leaves nothing to the imagination and there are screaming horny people out there whose dreams you are about to make come true.”

He groans.

“Can you make my dreams come true after, H?" you ask coyly.

He groans. “I’ll fuck ya anyway ya want me ta, I swear to god.”

You turn, cock your head to the side, grin a prissy grin and say, "And I'll fuck you right back..."

"Mmm, I like the sound of tha’..." he says kissing the tip of your nose.

"You nervous, babe?"

He puffs a breath out of his lips. “Yeah. I mean…yeah. It’s the biggest crowd I’ve ever played ta, yanno? But ‘m excited too. Glad you’re here.”

You smile reassuringly. "They say there's a place for me just off stage left. A place where I can dance and you can see me. You're gonna do great!"

A knock comes on the door. "Yeah, come in,” he says, eyes never leaving your face.

It’s the assistant. “Any fingerprints on those glass sequins?” he muses.

You both roll your eyes.

He’s holding up a cloth.

You bite your tongue. “I’ll take that,” you say, grabbing it.

He’s still standing there looking Harry up and down.

Harry laughs his little laugh. “Give us a few. We’ll be right out.”

You both giggle as the blushing assistant leaves the room.

You begin to fuss over the places you know you touched, even getting down eye level with this waist and below to polish the sequins to a shine

Harry rolls his eyes, “Killin’ me babe, I swear ta god.”

Looking around for a place to toss the cloth, you see a long back fuzzy thing hanging on a door hook. "What's that, H?"

"You'll have ta wait... Kiss me fo’ good luck?"

You press your lips to his, careful not to touch the sequins. “Good luck baby.” you smile. When you back off, you rub against his lips trying to rub off your raspberry colored lip gloss, "Sorry..."

"Don' care, I'll love wearing a little bit of you on me." He leans down to your ear. “Too bad I can’t walk out there my lips wet with your cum.”

You gasp. “H! I really gotta go so you can get your routine on. I love you. I’m proud of you. Go have fun, I'll see ya." you say standing on your tippy toes attempting to meet his eyes.

"I'll be looking for ya, love..." he swats your bum as your turn, then grabs your elbow turning you around. "Hey babe, wait... love ya too.”

You place your hands on his cheeks and give him one last kiss. “Go get ‘em rockstar.”

After Harry’s amazing performance, you’re waiting in the trailer for him while he’s in the shower.

You’ve got his black furry coat on because it’s cold in the desert at night.

He comes out of the bathroom in sweats and a hoodie and smirks. “Ya look great in tha’, baby.”

"And you look yummy, Mr. Styles.”

He chuckles, dimples popping. “C’mon, let’s go yeah?”

"Please, yes, I'm ready." You stand up. “Wait, first, Can you help me get these gold chain and bead things off, " you say slipping the black coat down to your elbows, "I think there's just a single latch at the top of the neck?"

While he pulls your hair to the side to study the latch, he places a slight kiss on the back of your neck.

Meanwhile you've unhooked the one covering the little pink skirt and shimmy out of it at the same time Harry pulls the top set off.

You pull the black coat up, "Are we taking this, or do we leave it?"

“Ya can’ go out there like tha’! We’re takin’ it. They can come an’ get it if they wan’ it back.”

Sliding into the leather seats, you settle in close to each other.

As soon as the door shuts, his lips are on yours. You kiss him back greedily, but then pull back. You shrug the coat off so he can see the skimpy see through lingerie and slide to your knees in front of him, pulling his joggers down. “Gonna take care of you now.” You say looking up through your lashes.

He leans his head back against the seat.

“Did so good, baby. Gonna show you how proud I am,” you say as you wrap your hand around his shaft and take him into your mouth.

"Mmm, God baby, feels s’good" he groans in a deep rasp.

You begin to suck and run your tongue along the head of his cock, paying close attention to that spot just underneath that's so sensitive.

He runs his fingers through your hair, pulling it back with one hand. His other hand is gripping his thigh hard.

When one of your hands moves to his balls, he lets out a loud groan and his hips push forward.

“Sorry, love,” he pants out as you gag around him a little.

You answer his apology by taking him deeper and harder, pulling up with your hand while bobbing up and down on him. Your panties are positively ruined.

"Babe, babe, babe, 'm gonna cum, hard"

You meet his eyes, pop off and you say saucily, “Cum for me, H.” Then you’re back on him, sucking him hard.

His body stiffens and he lets out an almighty groan.

Your eyes fly to his face so you can see him cum. The sight of Harry having an orgasm is something you'll never get enough of. But watching him cum because you are on him is a powerful feeling. You feel the warmth of his cum sliding down your throat.

"Jesus, love. Oh my God, are ya ok?" He says pulling you up onto his lap.

You move your mouth to his ear. "Yeah I feel great, ready to be in a bed.” You lick your lips. “Ready for you to be buried inside me.”

He leans over to kiss you and you can help but find it sexy that he doesn't care that he's still on your lips. He sucks your tongue in his mouth just so you know how much he likes tasting himself.

The kiss deepens and just as he threads his fingers in your hair, you arrive at your destination.

You slip his coat back on just as the door opens.

There’s no getting around the driver knowing what you were up to and you’re both giggling as you wish him goodnight. Somehow, you manage to make it inside. And through lust-filled eyes you see a change in Harry's patience as he removes the black coat from your shoulders.

He picks you up, your legs around his waist and carries you to the bedroom, "you flitting around in barely there panties, I can see the outline of ya nipples through tha’. Baby, I'm gonna fuck ya so good..." he mutters kissing, sucking and biting his way down your neck.

You kiss to his ear and whisper, "How shall you have me, darling?"

“It’s gonna be hard and fast, ya ok with tha’?”

"Harry, I've been looking forward to this all day, bring it on, baby," you muse. “I’m so so wet for you. Just like you told me to be.”

He groans. “Mmmm…good girl…did it turn ya on sucking me off in the car?"

"So much, H.... Harry, don't leave me waiting for you please?” you say stripping off what clothes and lingerie you had on your body.

“Hmmm…” he says, coming up behind you as you’re bent to take your sandals off. His hand moves from your neck to the small of your back. "Please stay like tha’, but spread ya knees wider fo’ me, need to see ya....So pink…” he mutters to himself. “Baby, not gonna lie, I’m really...I’m jus’ really worked up...an' I need to know if ya can handle me right now..."

You stand upright and say quietly while looking into his eyes. “I can handle it, H. I…I know I can.”

"Baby I saw ya... I fuckin' saw ya…moving to tha music tonight.... in those god damn strapped sandals, wrapped up your legs...." he breathes deeply shaking his head. “An’ I'm just’ hoping ta God ya don’t mind tha way I wanna use them tonight....

“Whatever you’re thinking H, do it. Take me. I’m yours. Just…take me like you want to,” you say shyly.

He brushes your hair out of your face and places a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you. I need ya to come stand at the foot of the bed fo’ me." He says grabbing your hand. "Lemme help ya....there ya go...ya shaking, you ok?"

You smile. “It’s the anticipation. I’m ok. Promise.”

He helps you to the end of the bed, maintaining eye contact, placing light reassuring kisses along the way. "Turn around, bend over an’ grab tha footboard. Bu’ first, look at me, are ya Ok? because...." he shakes his head... "I jus’…I need to fuck ya...."

You smile at him reassuringly. “Take me, H.”

He slides his hand to your pussy.....”Turn around. Bend over. I don' wan’ ya ta let go, so I'm gonna use the straps from your sandals..." He pulls the straps from the sandals and your core clenches each time you hear the leather straps pull from the sandal...

“Oh goddd…ok, ok.” Your breathing picks up. Hands gripping the wooden spindle of the four poster bed, Harry gently wraps the sandal straps around your wrists and the wood taking care to make sure it's not too tight, but tight enough to keep you in place.

Kissing up your arms he asks after each wrist if you are OK. "I'm s’hard, love"

Several minutes go by after both wrists are wrapped to the bed and you start to feel the awkwardness of being on display, "Harry?"

You turn your head and find him, just standing there.... his green eyes turned black with lust....“I’m here, love. Jus’ admiring tha view. Baby, I don' wanna forget this, please tell me I can take a picture?"

You bite your bottom lip. "Will it be safe, H?"

"Yes. Swear to ya, any picture I ever take of ya will always be safe.”

"Ok...." you whimper.

He reaches for his phone and says, "Can ya spread wider fo’ me?" He aims, taking a snap. "My god, baby, ya look so fuckable...."

You move your hips from side to side and smile seductively.

He tsks. “Careful love...”

He walks up behind you and runs his hands down your back to your bum then back up again to the upper part of your back where you feel him push down lightly. He whispers, "down....show me my cunt" He sighs. "I love seeing it peek out from behind...." He's stroking himself while he's looking...

"Harry, 'm so empty..." you whimper.

“I need to show ya that you’re mine. Only mine. Been everyone else’s all night. But your only mine.”

"Harry, I've been wet for you all night...." you sob.

"Please put your head on tha end of tha bed, I need ta make ya cum" he demands. He smacks your bum, "Baby, when I ask ya to do something an’ ‘m feeling like I feel right now, I need ya ta do it...place your head down, arch your back, show me what's mine...So glad ya wet... " he pushes his cock as deep as he can push inside you - your body pushes forward on the bed with his force.

“ARRRGHHH - babe, fuck, holy shit.....!” you cry out.

“Sweetheart, ya alright?” he groans.

He braces himself by placing his arm across your back holding your shoulder. "Spread your legs wider, love…now push back on me" he mumbles in a thick accent. "FUUUCCKKK, jus’ like tha’!”

"Harry...." you say absolutely breathlessly...."Harry, harry, harry, harry....sooo deep." Your hands pull at your ties. "I wanna touch you...."

He slaps your bum. “Not until we’re finished.” You shutter.

"H....please....do........." you say stuttering while he thrusts.

"wha’ baby, do wha’...?" he asks.

"D-do that again...." you cry out.

“Do wha’? Smack ya?” he asks his voice going lower as he slows his strokes.

You nod furiously. “Yes! I…I need it.” You turn your head and look over your shoulder, "Please, spank me...."

"Always surprisin’ me.....ya wan’ this doncha?" he smirks.

"Yes." you say barely a whisper...."Yes, Harry, I didn’t know til now, but yeah, I want it"

He looks down at his hands on your hips. “Fuck (panting breath) my r-rings are still on.” Long groan. “Ya sure ya want tha’?”

"Leave your mark on me, Harry.... make me yours" you say through your lashes over your shoulder. "I'm not afraid with you H....I want everything with you....everything..."

He groans. “Jesus Fucking Christ! Ya want me to mark ya?”

He stops thrusting for a minute and turns his initial rings around so they’re on the inside of his fingers.

"Please tell me you don't think I’m a freak because I want you to mark me...I've never wanted to be taken so totally....H, I want to be yours....I-I never knew I could be like this…” you whisper in the dimly lit room. “I…I need it.” When he doesn’t respond, you say, "Harry? Please don't turn me away....I'm just....I’m.....Harry?”

He groans. “Fuck…no! ‘M no’!”

"No?" you sob.

He quickly answers. “Oh, my sweet girl, I’ll give ya whatever ya need. I jus’…fuck, didn’t know!” He sighs deeply. “I’ll give it ta ya. Give ya everything.” He raises his hand and smacks your bum, his hand coming down hard.

You roll head back and forth, "hhhhhmmmmmmm"

He sees the “H” and “S” on your skin and feels the rush of your wetness on his cock and he lets out a loud groan. He pulls back and lands another smack to the top of your bum. There’s a crack as his hand hits your pink bum.

“Ahhhh!!!! Fuck!” You scream into the mattress

"Jesus, babe....? Ya alright?" he says leaning down close to your ear.

Blissful, you can't answer anymore than simply. "Mmmmhmmmm..."

He’s held on as long as he can. "Baby, I'm gonna fuck ya now....ready?"

You smile and press your forehead deeper into the mattress..."Yes." Your body has become one nerve in a euphoric state you haven’t ever experienced before. The harder Harry fucks into you, the deeper you fall into the depths of pleasure. He pushes your back down a little further and that’s when he hits your g-spot.

When your knees buckle, he says breathily, "There it is....righ’, babe? Tha’....(thrust) it?"

"Mmmmm..." is all you can say....

“Hold on baby." He can tell you’re close, so he lands one final smack to your bum. Hand grasping your shoulder, he begins thrusting hard and mumbling to himself, “Spank....fuck....my cunt....so hard....Jesus, love this ass....love....love being with you...."

“H!” You shriek while your hands pull hard at the ties as your orgasm rips through you. He just manages to wrap his arm around your waist before your knees buckle.

"I gotcha, I gotcha..." he reassures.

“Harry!” you sob, covered in goosebumps and shaking violently all over.

He's frantic to untie the straps. "Baby?" he’s borderline terrified.

You're panting and breathless as you crumple to the floor, hands covering your face in embarrassment.

“My god, Harry, you didn’t cum yet…” you cry out on a breathless sob. “You have to cum!”

“No…wait…baby, I came in the car......I can wait.” He’s trying to console you.

“No, no, no…” You crawl up on the bed.... “Please Harry,” you meet his eyes, “Please, need you to cum inside me.....been waiting all night to have you.” You say and wince as your bum touches the mattress.

He notices and shakes his head. "Look at me, love." He pulls your legs up around his waist so some of the pressure is off your pink, marked bum.

Positioning himself over you, he slides back home. "Move with me baby...mmmmm...." he kisses down to your ear. When you push your hips up into his, he whispers, “Fuck, jus’ like tha’”

"Faster Harry....fuck me like you want to...please, I need you to take me like you need to...”

He reaches down to grab your leg and pushes it forward. "Jesus baby, I'm.....I'm...." His body goes stiff deep inside you and you can feel his cock twitch just before he loses it...and lets out a loud groan. He collapses on top of you, face in your neck.

Your bum is hurting with his weight, but his body feels so good on you. Hands are tangled in his hair, fingernails running on his scalp.

He pushes up to look into your eyes and shakes his head in amazement. “Jesus…tha’ was…(deep breath) you’re… (deep breath) fuck, you’re amazing.”

Blushing, you whisper, “Harry....I've never....I mean...I didn't know that I would ever...”

He chuckles at your inability to express what you’re trying to say.

You finally manage, “What I’m tryna say is…this is just....new to me....I never needed anyone like I need...never wanted anything like that.”

Looking into your eyes and smiling he kisses you deeply, tangling his tongue in with yours ending with a few pecks against your lips. He pulls out and rolls you onto your side. “New to me too.” Frowning he says, "Ya awfully quiet, love?"

You stare into the darkness. “I mean, I'm kinda shocked. Will you look? Like, do I actually have an “H” and an “S” on my butt?”

"Oh, NOW, you're wondering...." he smirks.

You roll your eyes. "Stop it...just look. Oooo, easy," you say as he turns you over.

He lets out a low moan. "Fuck me babe…yeah, there it is...."

You close your eyes smiling to yourself and bury your expression in the bed. “Take a pic for me. Wanna see.”

He searches for his phone, snaps a shot and then lays back down behind you, bringing the phone around to your face so you can both look... And there they are…three perfect places where his pink initials are on your bottom outlined in white.

“Whatcha think?” he asks smirking.

"What do YOU think, Harry...?” you ask hoping he finds it as sexy as you do.

He jerks up. “Wait! Babe...that's perfect....I wan’ them on my pink leathers fo’ next weekend! ….on my back pockets... would tha’ be stupid, honey?"

You giggle at his excitement. “No, darlin’ I love it. But, Harry, you forget you’re a style icon....Honey, you can do whatever you want…besides who gives an actual fuck, right?

He blushes, cheeks dimpling as he grins.

Your brows furrow. "They gonna have time to put them on....?" The intimacy of the situation hits you and you hide your head in the pillow shaking it back and forth. “Oh my gosh....”

He stops. "Wait wha’, babe...."

"Seriously?” You giggle into the pillow. “You are gonna do the whole show ....”

"Wha’?" he questions chuckling at your giggle.

"I mean, H, how am I supposed to pay attention knowing you only have those on your pockets because the same letters are imprinted on my bum....” you say as he pulls your head around to face him.

He smirks. “Why d’ya think I wan’ them hmmm?” He kisses your head. “Wan’ you to remember this night when ya see me on stage.”

*******************************************************

3 Hours later....

Moonlight fills the room and you are snuggled deep with Harry, enjoying some well deserved sleep.

He rouses while spooned tight behind you, fluffy, white duvet covering you both. He can't help but cuddle in closer to your back, you smell so good, like sunshine, and still a little like sex even though you took a shower earlier...

Your hair is a mess, curly and messy... all over the pillow.... so much so he can puff it out of his face while smelling it at the same time. You’re warm, lightly snoring in a way that just makes him smile and think, "I know that snore....I, me, Harry, know it...no one else...because she’s mine." He's had you; had you hard just hours ago, so he pulls you close..."Let her rest" he thinks to himself..."My god, she's so...." he thinks as he buries his nose in your hair and breathes deeply.

You stir as he snuggles closer, breasts tucked up over the arm he has wrapped around you.

Kissing just below your ear, he can’t resist cupping your breast…thumb rubbing lightly back and forth over your nipple.

"Mmmmm...." you moan in your sleepy state.

He slides his other hand to your bum. “How’re ya feeling sweet girl?”

"Mmmmm, little sore...." you rasp in a sleep thick voice.

He groans. “Jesus…tha’ was so hot…YOU are hot.” he says, kissing down your neck, his hand running over your bum.

"How about here...?" he asks as he runs his hand to cup your pussy.

You push back against him as his fingers run down your slit. Your breath hitches on a light moan.

"Know yeh bum hurts, baby" he whispers in the darkness while running his hand up and down your thigh. "Promise I’ll send out for some special lotion tomorrow."

“Mmmm…k.” You push back against him again. “Take such good care of me.”

"Feel like a bastard...." he mutters against your neck.

You still your movements. "Why?"

“Not ‘posed to hurt ya, baby. Gem made that clear enough,” he says.

You turn your head to face him. "Harry, listen to me, what we do here,” you look into his eyes, "This is what I want from you...it’s what we want from each other."

He sighs. “I mean, I know, baby. It’s so fuckin’ hot, but… I can’t help feelin’ bad hurtin’ ya. Wanna give ya everythin’ and make it so good for ya.”

You close your eyes. “You do, Harry. It’s so much better than I ever imagined. And I don’t mind the pain…it reminds me of how good it felt.” You blush, burying your face into the pillow. "I mean, I probably should be ashamed at how good it feels...” you say feeling embarrassed. “I don't regret anything we've done...but if you do and don’t wanna…”

He tsks interrupting you gently, holding your chin he moves your head so he can look into your eyes. “Sweetheart, I love having you ask things of me when we’re making love, and, to be honest..” he shrugs sheepishly, “I enjoyed turning your arse pink and seeing my initials show up, and I’d like to… explore more of that, but ONLY if yeh sure ‘bout it, because, baby, it’s only my fantasy if it’s yours too.”

You smile and touch your turned forehead to his. “My gentle white knight,” you say with a soft smile. “Harry, my love, this is our fantasy, our bed, our sex, the ways we fuck each other, the ways we show each other love…is perfect for us and we are making it up as we go…I wanna explore and experiment with you. We’re safe.” You thread a hand in his hair and pull his lips to yours in sideways kiss.

He pulls his head back and settles it back behind you. “Know you’re tired, love, I'm still amped up on adrenaline. Will ya lemme hold ya while ya sleep?”

“No!” You say reaching for him behind you. “I mean, no, I don’t wanna sleep right now.”

Pushing your body back into his and covering his cheek with your hand. “I want you, H.”

Kissing behind your ear, he moves his hand back and forth over your tummy and whispers, "so soft...."

“Relax for me and let me make love to ya?" he asks breathing in your ear.

Your hand moves to the nape of his neck. “Mmm, I need you.”

You start to turn over. "No, babe, stay just like this, jus relax,” he whispers, voice raspy.

He pulls your leg back and over his body. "Ya warm enough, love?"

"Mmmm-hmmm..." you moan enjoying the feel of his body against yours and his hands on you.

He mutters against your shoulder. “God. I can’t get enough of ya, love.” He runs his forefinger and middle finger down to your pussy and around your clit, "Tha’ feel good?"

You can’t help rolling your head into the pillow again, "So good, it's always so good."

He smiles against your neck, “Gonna get ya wet and ready for me, love. This ok?" he says pushing those fingers deep inside, then pulling them out and back to slide around your clit again.

"Harry...." you moan as he repeats the process over and over.

"Touchin’ ya like this makes me so hard....hearin’ ya breath hitch....feelin’ yeh clench on my fingers...Jesus…” he groans deeply turned on.

“Up with ya head." He slides his arm under your head. “Lay ya head on my arm.”

You can't help but kiss the inside of his elbow. Your back to his front, leg draped behind you over his body, you feel his cock against your bum.

He gently turns your head and your eyes meet his. “I love you,” he tells you.

You sigh against his lips. “I love you too.”

He wraps the arm you’re lying on across your chest, pulling you flush against him and presses his lips to yours. He traces the seam of your lips gently and you moan. He takes advantage of your open mouth and licks inside against your tongue. He pushes himself up gasping for more of your mouth. Panting, he breaks away just long enough to mutter against your lips. "Wanna find my spot." He looks down your side to where his hand is between your legs. He groans. "Is it ok that this....(he strokes his middle finger up along the spongy inside of your channel finding your g-spot) is mine?"

“Finders keepers?” You smile at him.

He laughs his breathy little laugh. “Summat like tha’ If you only knew...," he kisses your arm, "what I wanna..."

“Tell me, H. Tell me what you wanna do…” you gasp as his fingers curl up inside you. “Ooooo…”

"'ave things I’ve been thinkin' 'bout exploring with yeh later... now, I just need to make you cum.”

Your hand reaches for his. “Please…I…promise you’ll tell me. Wanna know what you want.”

He swirls his fingers on your g-spot....

“Mmmm…right there!”

You push your leg farther over his hip and push out your pelvis giving him better access to your pussy.

"So open for me..." he says softly.

You grimace lightly, "Bottom's sore right...can't wait to see my initials in the sunlight"

You rut your hips on his fingers at the thought....“I’m yours,” you say blissfully turning your lips against his neck.

"Please Harry....mmm, that feels so good..." you say arching your back slightly.

"Can you cum for meh?" His hand slides to your breast, his fingers pinching your nipple.

"So wet, fuck yaself on my fingers" he demands softly in the darkness.

You grind up and down on his fingers. "Good girl...there you go..." kissing behind your ear he whispers, "take what you need..."

His fingers feel so good. They always feel so good but especially after you just wake up when everything is so warm and sensitive.

"God damn when you wiggle yeh ass against my cock..." he says on a deep breath.

"Harry....please…need to cum" you whimper.

Whispering in your ear, voice thick with lust and accent, "Yeh know my fingers are going smell and taste like you after this...you don' know how much that turns me on...I want you to cum, I wanna slip my cock inside that beautiful cunt of ours."

You turn your head toward him, still grinding on his fingers and pant, "The things you say Harry Styles"

"Only to you, my love, only to you."

You close your eyes. As you grind down on his swirling fingers, you feel the tingle begin....you can barely mutter, "I'm there...oh...god...make me cum, H. Please.”

On a grunt, he pulls his fingers out, scoots down for a better angle and uses those fingers to push his cock deep.

"Wanna feel you cum on me." He says as his hips pump up into you and his arms are wrapped tightly. "Jus’ need to..." His fingers move to your clit and then with little further warning, your orgasm hits deep causing you to turn your head. "Unnngghh…Har...rrryyy!” Leaves your throat unexpectedly.

Unconsciously, your teeth sink down into the flesh of his inner bicep. "Fuck, love..." He lets out a groan as you bite him and it triggers his orgasm causing his body to stiffen and his cock to pulse inside you. He mutters while panting, “Marking me too, yeah?”

"Mmmm...” You kiss his arm over and over. “I’m so sorry…I know I’m not supposed to leave marks.”

"Baby, don't give a fuck at the mom’." He pulls your chin to turn your head toward him so he can make eye contact.

Blissed out you're still rolling your hips and panting into the air...

"Baby, I wanna...can yeh roll over..." he says pulling away. He pulls you toward him and over to your back and moves up on his knees to position himself between your legs. "I wanna see...my cum inside you...”

You open your legs and run your hand down your lower tummy until you reach your soaked pussy.

He groans, and pushes your legs back and just stares with blown-out, lust filled eyes. Finally, he rasps in a low voice. "Baby,...show me it"

“You did this to me, Harry.” You say running your fingers through your wetness while your other hand moves to your breast, pinching your nipple. You circle your clit with your wet fingers. “This is what I did when we were just friends and I was imagining what it would feel like if you were fucking me.”

Biting your bottom lip you say, “Mmmm…sometimes I used a toy, not just my fingers, but it was always your name I said when I came. My cunt always belonged to you.”

Your fingers circle your clit faster, then you start to hesitate..."No, don't stop angel, please keep going. Ya think yeh can cum for me again?”

Looking down, he shakes his head, "Jesus, that’s my cum..." he mutters to himself, "Can see my cum, dripping..." His hands move to your thighs to rub up and down on the insides of them, then, as if he can’t resist, his finger circles your entrance lightly.

His eyes pierce yours in a lust filled stare..."those fantasies...?"

Your breath hitches as you still circle your clit. “Mmmm, yes! Wanted you so bad. I…it’s all I could think about sometimes.”

"I'm watching..." He pushes your thighs back just a little more...

You look down your body, feeling slightly self-conscious, especially when you see him staring so intently at your core. You start to pull your thighs closed. He looks up from your pussy and says, “No look at meh, love...."

You move your eyes to his.

He smiles reassuringly, “Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, know tha’?” His hands slide down your inner thighs, thumbs rubbing the creases where your thighs meet your pussy.

“Show me how you made yourself cum.” He gulps. “Need to see it.”

The quiet darkness, the reassuring words, you can't help the arch in your back at his words and look away. "Nah, don't be shy on me, it's me...can show meh anything..."

He smirks. “Ya weren’t shy when you made yourself cum in my house. Jus’ down the hall from me.”

You feel a gush of wetness at the memory. “Mmmm…used to fantasize that you’d walk in and catch me.”

He sees the way your body’s reacting. “Ya getting closer aren’t ya?”

"Finish, love...wanna see how you would finish...."

You grab for his hand, "no, sweetheart, do it without me....wanna see"

Swollen clit and aching channel, you use your fingers...Your mind goes back to those nights in his guest bedroom and how turned on you were after being around him all day. How your skin still smelled like his from the goodnight hug he gave you…The desperate thoughts you had of knocking on his door and begging him to help you…

"Keep goin’ babe....know it feels good, I can see it.”

At this point your body is jerking and trembling...“Harry. Harry. Harry. Fuck!” In a sharp arch of your back, you dig your feet into the sheet below and pant out the intensity.

Just as you are about to relax, a shyness sets in and you can't help but curl up into a fetal position and roll over.

“Hey…wha’s going on, hmmm?” He curls around you kissing your shoulder.

"So embarrassing...," you say hands going to your face.

He rolls you back over, pulls your hands from your face and brushes your hair back.

“Not embarrassing. Jesus, love, it’s sexy as hell watching you get off. Want you to do it again for me…umm, many times again…for me” he says chuckling.

“It is?” you whisper, “You do?”

“Ummm…Wanna record it. Does tha’ answer your questions?” He smiles, kisses you and tweaks your nose. “Yeh so beautiful and adorable…”

"Oh....hang on love..." he reaches for his phone and sits on the side of the bed.

Resting against the pillow, you see the sun is starting to come up. Unabashedly, you listen in...

"Yeah, an H on one side and S on the other, ya think you have time to add them?"

Turning to look at you he says, "yeah, there's a reason.... I want my initials on those pants..."

Your hands go to your face and you shake your head.

“Great. Yeah, send over the sketch when you’re done. Thanks.”

He drops his phone back on the nightstand.

"What are you up to, mister!" you say through your hands.

"C'mere." he stands and reaches his hand out for you.

"I can hardly walk, Styles, seriously." You reach for his shirt to cover yourself

"Leave it sweetheart." He leads you into the brightly lit bathroom."Wanna see them"

"See what?" you question.

He smirks with deep dimples, "Wanna see my rings..."

He nods his head forward toward the counter, "Bend over, lemme see…"

He traces his finger down your spine to your bum. “Jesus love.” He says, palming his dick.

“Does it hurt, baby?" His eyes meet yours. "Turn to the side, can you see...?"

You twist to the side, angling your head to try and see.

"Hang on....be right back." he says rushing to the bedside.

When he comes back with his phone, you stiffen..."Harry...."

"Promise I'll delete it if you want, but please, lemme show you..."

Your fingers go to your mouth, “I don’t want you to delete it. Pose with me, H. Put your ringed hand on my other cheek, show the rings and the imprints. I want to remember this.”

You position yourselves and he snaps the shot. Looking intently at his phone, "Fuck's sake babe, look..."

On his screen is a clear picture of your bottom with a little pink H and S shown on your right cheek and on your left cheek is his nail-painted hand sporting the rings that made those imprints.

You gasp. “That’s so…that’s so hot.”

He rubs his hand over the initials....I know…

You turn around to thread your fingers in his hair. “How long? How will they last?”

He kisses you. “They will prolly be gone by the end of the week, but any time you want them back....."

You close your eyes. “I’ll always want them on me.”

[lollypopsx]

Could u do a blurb of yn getting sick during a date early on in their relationship and is embarrassed

Drabble Request

Drabble Masterlist

Warning: Swearing and being sick

——————

"Oh fuck! No no no!" You whined softly, your skin was bright red with blotches and sore from an allergic reaction you were having to a new moisturiser, and a sickly feeling in your throat.

"This cannot be happening today!" You groan. You rushed into the bathroom to rinse your face with water and soap, in hopes some of the stinging would suffice.

You had three hours until you were being picked up by Harry. It was you're second date, the first one was incredible. You had gone for dinner and drinks up at the Shard, after he had asked for your number at an award show. You were a hair and makeup artist so seeing celebrities wasn't uncommon. And to you, they were just normal people.

You couldn't believe your luck today, you didn't want Harry to see you this way, but your skin was incredibly sore and you knew that putting makeup on top would definitely not help you right now.

Harry: Hey, still up for later? I can pick you at at 3?x

Shit. It was hard enough to find a date to suit you both this week because of your schedules, and you didn’t want to have to wait til next week. You sigh deeply and decide to suck it up and deal with it! If you waited til the very last minute to do your makeup, hopefully the stinging would have gone down by then.

Y/N: Hey, of course! What are we doing?x

Harry: You’ll see! Wrap up warm, see you later pretty girl x’

You blush deeply at Harry’s text. He was gorgeous, funny and kind. He was everything you expected and even more, his pet names for you, even early on, sent butterflies through your stomach.

You sigh deeply and decide a quick shower would do you good. You cleaned yourself up and washed your hair. As you stepped out and wrapped a towel around your hair and body, you wandered over to the sink to brush your teeth. Capturing your own reflection, you saw the blotchiness spreading, your skin feeling rough and still warm, with a slight burning sting. 

“Holy shit...This is not happening!” You groan loudly in frustration. As a makeup artist, you always took pride in your skills and looks. You had always been slightly insecure of yourself, that’s why you had learnt to do your makeup at a young age.

2:15pm

45 minutes. You could do this. Push past the nausea, ignore the sting and enjoy your afternoon with Harry. You had curled your hair and picked out some black jeans, a nice top and your favourite nude pink coat, plus your matching nude boots. You began to do your makeup, but it was burning and separating on your blotchy skin. The nausea in your stomach was yet to settle, but the stinging was tensing your stomach.

You rushed into the bathroom, feeling the bile rush up from your throat as you hang your head into the toilet. You held your own hair back, wiped your mouth, flushed the toilet and brushed your teeth. 

Instead you decided just to do your brows and pop some lashes on. The patchy skin was clearly very obvious and you were sure Harry wouldn’t want to be seen out in public with you at all.

Your apartment phone buzzed as you answer. “Hello?” You say softly.

“Hello pretty girl...sorry I’m a bit early. I can wait...” You could hear the smile on Harry’s lips without even seeing him.

“Hey...no no it’s fine. Erm, come up!” You buzz him in and quickly spray the room with air freshener. You were sure that Harry was going to take one look at you and leave. You frowned softly, the knock at the door interrupting your thoughts. 

You slowly opened the door to the gorgeous man. His curly hair tamed, with black jeans, a jumper and one of his black coats. You look down at the floor shyly. “H-hi...” You whisper. His eyes widened as you opened the door. “Oh my god, Y/N are you ok?!” He frowns, taking a step in.

“Y-yeah I just...I’ve had an allergic reaction to a new product and...I’m sorry. If you don’t want to be seen with me looking like this...” You mumble to the floor.

“Angel, you look sore...I don’t want you to feel like we have to go anywhere if you’re hurting...”

Your eyes widen, cutting off Harry by covering your mouth and running to the bathroom again.

He closed the front door behind him, taking off his coat and placing it over the arm of the sofa and following after you, knocking on the bathroom door. “Y/N...”

“-Please don’t come in here!” You beg, whimpering softly, feeling the tears brim your eyes as your head was once again hanging over the toilet. You felt like you had just ruined every chance you had in one split second.

“Please...please let me in. I don’t mind...honest” He speaks softly through the door. You didn’t speak...you couldn’t. You were too busy throwing up.

Harry opened the door quietly, he held your own hair back, wiped your mouth, flushed the toilet and helped you take a sip of water.

“Why don’t we just watch some shit films...eat some shit food and...not have to worry about seeing any one for the evening?”

“But you planned...wait what did you plan?”

“Nothing that can’t wait until you’re feeling better...” He whispers softly, rubbing your back gently. 

And in that moment you knew...he was a keeper.

——————

Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores -  @beachwood-cafe - @damnasstyles - @awesomebooklover17 - @hazgoldenstyles - @evanjh - @harrysbracelet - @nerdypartytrashpsychic - @harryssweatcreaturee - @hibaiqbal12

[bxcketbarnes]

Place in Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 6700+

Author's Note: So, this fic is extremely long. I apologize in advance. I also hope you guys enjoy it. I'm worried that it's not up to par but we'll see I guess 🥺🥰 It's loosely based on the song Place in Me by Luke Hemmings. Beautiful song. Uhm, slight enemies to lovers which is unusual for me. Let me know what you though!! xox

"Barnes and L/N, you'll be partnering up," Tony states, and your eyes widen a bit before glancing towards the ex-assassin.

You notice Bucky rolling his eyes while crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair he's sitting in. "Is that the best plan, Tony? We've never worked together," he questions the man.

"That's the whole point, Manchurian Candidate," Tony mumbles while wagging his finger between the two of you. "You two are the only ones who haven't been on a mission together, so."

You stay quiet as the older man sets the debriefing folder in front of you. Your eyes meet his and you notice a certain emotion swimming in Tony's eyes. He raises his eyebrows slightly and you nod your head.

"You two look those over and then get to the quinjet. It leaves in an hour and your asses better be on it," Tony mentions while walking away from the two of you.

Silence fills the room and you avoid looking at Bucky. Your heart pounds in your chest as a sigh leaves the man's lips. You instinctively lift your gaze towards him, seeing his blue eyes already on you.

Your breath hitches in your throat and you look away, clearing your throat. "So, uh, s-sorry you have to work with me," you mumble loud enough for him to hear.

Bucky tsks before standing up from his chair. Your chest clenches when he doesn't say anything to you, watching the super-soldier walk out of the room. A heavy sigh leaves your lips, glancing down at the files in front of you.

"He'll come around," Steve's voice fills the room and you jump slightly, turning in your chair to see the blonde leaning against the doorframe.

You shake your head at his words, tears pooling in your eyes. "I don't think he will, Steve. H-He'll talk to everyone else except for me? I… I don't even know what I did for him to hate me so much," you sigh, your fingers catching the tears that roll down your cheeks.

Steve walks further into the room and lays a hand on your shoulder. You chew on your bottom lip, breathing heavily through your nose to calm yourself. "He's jus- He's got a funny way of showing people he cares. I doubt he hates you, Y/N," the blonde reassures you, giving you a gentle squeeze.

"Coulda fooled me," you mumble before shrugging his hand off of you, standing up from your seat. "I have to go get ready."

You hold the files to your chest and walk out of the debriefing room, making your way to your quarters. Your lip trembles a bit as you continue to think about Bucky and his cold behavior towards you.

Once you're in the elevator, you let out a shaky breath before glancing at the ceiling. Tears continuously glide down your reddened cheeks and you try to shake the memories from your head.

"Let's just get this over with," you sigh to yourself as the doors open up. You pack all the essentials you'll need for the mission,  double-checking that you've got everything before making your way to the quinjet.

You notice Tony standing at the end of the ramp as Bucky walks into the jet, a bag hanging off of his shoulder. "If you truly need to get away from Barnes, let me know okay?" Tony mumbles and you give him a tight-lipped smile, nodding your head in response.

"I should be okay, Tony. Thank you though," you whisper to him before walking onto the ramp of the quinjet.

"You guys got this. I believe in you," Tony reassures the two of you and the ramp proceeds to shut.

You sit as far away from Bucky as you can, fiddling with your fingers for a few minutes before pulling out your headphones. You rest your head against the headrest and decide to rest your eyes.

Bucky looks over at you and wishes that you weren't coming along. In his mind, this mission is way too dangerous for you. You're not a super soldier like him or Steve. You don't have a suit of armor like Tony or Rhodes. You don't have powers like Wanda.

You got your training from Natasha, and sure, Natasha has incredible skills that she learned from the Red Room. But, you're still human. A sigh leaves his lips and tears his gaze from you, deciding to make sure you don't get hurt at all.

-

"Holy shit," you mumble in amazement, looking around the hotel suite that Tony booked for the two of you.

Bucky walks in behind you, not saying anything as he brushes past you. You bite your cheek, your eyes following his figure as the super-soldier makes his way towards the bedroom.

You let out a slight huff of breath, running a hand through your hair. "I thought Tony mentioned there being two beds?" Bucky asks and your eyebrows furrow.

"That's what he said," you mumble while heading towards where he is. "Is there only on-"

"One bed? Yeah," Bucky cuts you off and you gulp, taking a peek into the bedroom to see one bed in the middle of it.

"I-Great," you whisper as the brunette lets out a heavy sigh. "Sorry, Bucky, I didn't-"

Bucky grunts before making his way towards the living area. "I'll take the couch," he states and you slowly close your mouth, the words dying on your lips.

"O-Okay," you whisper loud enough for him to hear, walking into the room you'll be staying in.

You press your lips together before shutting the door, putting some space between you and Bucky. I should've backed out immediately. You think to yourself while setting your bag onto the edge of the bed.

After unpacking your bag, you organize your things so they're easily accessible. You open the file Tony gave you, looking over the schedule of your target. "Aha!" You softly whisper, pointing at the paper while reading how your target generally goes to the restaurant right about now. "I could eat."

You open the bedroom door and step out of the room, looking around for your six-foot-tall co-worker. You furrow your brows at the space, wondering if he's still here or actually left. He'd tell me if he left… right?

Bucky,

I left to go get some food and a little intel on our target. Schedule says he's in the restaurant around this time. See you later.

Y/N

You place the written note near his things so he'll see it before grabbing one of the hotel room keys. You exit the room and make your way to the elevator before pushing the button. The doors open immediately and you step inside, pushing the button to the lobby.

"Hold the door!" A voice shouts and you stick your hand out, stopping the door from closing. "Oh, thank you so much."

"You're welc-" you cut yourself off as you look up at the man, your heart dropping into your stomach.

The man standing in front of you is Gabriel Price, the target you're currently after. The doors to the elevator close once more as the air around you grows thick. "You okay?" He asks and you snap your head up, your eyes meeting his cold ones.

"Y-Yes, sorry. I was… I was stunned by your beauty," you laugh nervously and the man smirks while fixing his tie.

A chuckle leaves Gabriel's lips and he looks down at you. "Well, thank you, darling. You're a sight for sore eyes, yourself," he winks and you bite your lip.

"I-Thank you, sir," you blush, wishing that the elevator would open right about now.

"Please, call me Gabriel," he corrects you before sticking his hand out.

Your eyes glance from his face to his hand before shaking it. "Nice to meet you, Gabriel. I'm Sylvie," you come up with a fake name.

The doors to the elevator open up and you drop his hand before leaving the small space. "I hope to see you around, Sylvie," he grins before walking into the restaurant.

You can feel your hands shake a bit and you let out a deep breath before fishing your phone out of your pocket. You dial Bucky's number, pressing the device to your ear.

"Pick up, please," you beg, your eyes looking around the place to see if the super-soldier is nearby.

When your call goes to voice-mail, you roll your eyes, not even deciding to leave him a message. You slide your phone into your pocket before heading into the restaurant. You notice Gabriel sitting with three other guys at a table near the corner as you walk over to the bar area.

"Hey, can I get some food to go?" You ask the bartender and the woman nods her head before grabbing her pen.

"Of course, sweetie. What can I get ya?" She asks with a smile.

Your eyes roam over the menu and decide to get something small for you and Bucky. "Uhm, can I get the fish and chips and a bacon cheeseburger with fries," you tell her and you watch the woman write it down.

"Absolutely. Do you want to bill that to your room?" She questions and you nod your head in reply, telling her the room you're in. "I'll put it in for you. Should be ready in about fifteen minutes."

"Perfect thank you so much," you smile as she turns to head towards the kitchen.

-

After stealthily watching Gabriel while waiting for your food, you finally make it back to your room. You balance the to-go boxes against one hand while grabbing the room key with the other, unlocking your door.

"Bucky?" You call out after shutting the door with your foot, taking a glance around the room in front of you.

"Yeah?" He mumbles and pokes his head around the corner of the wall, noticing the styrofoam boxes in your hands. "What's that?"

You furrow your brows and quickly wet your lips. "Did you not get my note?" You wonder and Bucky shakes his head. A sigh leaves your lips and you mutter to yourself, "figures."

Bucky picks the note you wrote from the table in front of him as you set the food onto the counter in the kitchenette. "Wait, was he there? The target?" The super soldier asks while walking towards you.

"Yup," you mention and hand the man his food, not meeting his gaze. "Actually met him in the elevator, but you would've known that if you answered your phone."

You brush past him, your shoulder bumping into his as you head towards your room. You stop just before entering the space before turning to face him, feeling the anger flow through your veins. "You know… next time you should just ask for a new partner if you don't want to work with me. No need to be a fucking coward and ignore me. That's how people get hurt, Bucky."

His blue eyes glance towards you just as you slam the bedroom door shut, leaving Bucky to his own devices. The brunette opens the take-out container, seeing a cheeseburger and fries sitting in it.

Bucky's phone rings loudly, snapping him from his thoughts and he pushes himself off of the counter before grabbing the phone.

"Hey, Steve," he answers after checking who it is, pressing the device to his ear.

"Buck," the blonde greets, and Bucky can hear Sam yelling in the background. "How’re things going?"

A sigh leaves Bucky's lips and he scratches the back of his neck. "Uhm, alright, I guess. It's been pretty tense between Y/N and I," he informs his best friend while eating a couple of fries.

"Well, have you tried having a conversation with her?" Steve asks and Bucky furrows his brows.

"I- No?"

"You know, after you left her alone in the debriefing room I stopped by," Steve starts as Bucky sits down on one of the chairs, continuing to eat his food, "and she told me that she's got no clue as to why you hate her so much. So, Buck, what's the reason?"

The super soldier feels his stomach twist a bit, not knowing that's how you felt about his coldness towards you. "I… I'm not sure, Steve. I just- she- I don't know how to explain it," Bucky mumbles and runs his fingers through his hair.

"Figure it out then. You two need to be working together. The hostility between the two of you is going to get one of you hurt… or even killed," Steve reprimands the super soldier and Bucky finds himself nodding in response. "I have to go. Talk to you later."

Bucky sets his phone down on the table before glancing towards your bedroom door. He lets out a deep breath through his nose and continues to eat the food you got him.

You sit against the headboard with your knees tucked a bit, staring off into space. You look towards the alarm clock to see it's just past midnight and you press your lips together before leaning your chin on your knees. Your food grows cold as it sits on the nightstand, your appetite is forgotten after your altercation with Bucky.

Tears pool in your eyes as you run your fingers through your hair. "Why? Why? God, why?!" You cry to yourself and before you know it you chuck your phone across the room.

You hear the device smash as it collides with the wall and you see the screen all cracked. A sigh leaves your lips as you watch the lit-up screen turn black before cursing to yourself.

Bucky quickly sits up at the thumping sound echoing off of the walls, his blue eyes looking around the dark space. His eyebrows furrow as everything is in place and the super-soldier gets up from his spot on the couch.

A frown etched onto his lips when he walks closer to the bedroom door, hearing your cries coming from inside it. Bucky wets his lip and feels his chest clench a bit before he raises his fist to knock on your door.

"Fucking hell," he heard you mutter through the door and Bucky lowers his hand, deciding it’s best to leave you be so he doesn't make it worse.

He swallows the lump forming in his throat before making his way back towards the couch. Bucky lays down under the covers and stares up at the ceiling, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

"Steve's right," he whispers to himself, "I have to fix this."

-

You put your hood up as you follow Gabriel's men down the busy street. You stay a good distance behind them as you can lightly hear their conversation.

Apologies leave your lips as you're weaving through the sea of people, bumping into some of their shoulders as you pass by them. You wince when a burly man bumps into you, your eyes gazing up at the man while pressing your hand to your side.

"Sorry, miss," he smirks and you furrow your brows, mumbling that it's alright.

You stumble around the corner as the pain in your side spreads, removing your hand from the wound to see blood staining your skin. "Shit," you mumble and glance back to see if you can find the man that bumped into you.

Suddenly, your mouth gets covered by someone and you let out a scream as they drag you into the ally beside you. They throw you on the ground before another starts to kick your stomach.

"Don't fuck with us," a man growls and grabs a fist full of your hair, lifting you before shoving you against the brick wall.

Heavy pants leave your lips as the man's fist connects with your face. Pain fills your body as you double over, a couple of gaps leaving your lips.

"P-Please," you beg as another man takes a swing at you, blood dripping from your lips.

Your head gets pushed back against the wall as the older gentleman leans close to you. "Should've thought about that before following us, sweetheart," he snickers before gripping your cheeks. "I'm sure someone will find you."

You don't get a chance to say anything before the man smashes your head against the building. Your eyes roll back into your head as you get punched once more. The man lets go of your body and you drop to the ground as you become unconscious from the beating.

"We'll find her later, let's go."

Bucky knocks on your door in the hotel room, eyebrows furrowed as he hasn't heard from you all day. "Y/N?" He calls out your name before opening the door, peeking his head into the room. He walks into the room and sees the place empty. "Shit."

He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials your number. Bucky presses the device to his ear before walking back out into the main room. C'mon, c'mon. He thinks to himself while pacing in front of the couch.

A sigh leaves his lips when the call goes to voice-mail, his vibranium hand rubbing through his hair. The next number he dials is Steve's, deciding to tell the blonde what happened.

"Hey, Buck, what's going on?" Steve answers the phone.

"Y/N's missing," Bucky states, feeling his body start to panic at the thought of what could've happened. "I-She was here in the middle of the night and she hasn't left her room all day, so when I went to go check, the room was empty."

The brunette sits down on the edge of the couch, leaning his elbow on his knees. "Okay calm down. Did you try calling her?" Steve asks and Bucky scoffs.

"Of course I tried calling her, Steve. I'm not a complete idiot," Bucky mumbles.

"Goddamnit, Bucky. None of us can head out there right now. So, you need to get out there and find her," Steve informs him and Bucky nods his head in response, standing up from the couch.

Bucky goes to speak when the door to the room opens and you stumble inside. "She's here. I-I gotta go," the super-soldier breathes, hanging up before Steve could say anything.

You wince while shutting the door, leaning on it for stability. "Bucky," you whimper as he rushes over to you. You fall into his arms, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

"Hey, hey, what happened?" He mumbles softly while leaning down to pick you up bridal style.

Bucky gently kicks the bedroom door open before walking into the room, setting you down onto the bed. His eyes roam across your body, seeing the bruises and cuts on your face. The brunette notices dried blood on your hand and his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Fuck," Bucky whispers after seeing blood on your shirt. He picks up your shirt to see a wound in your side, his fingers grazing over your skin.

He walks into the living space, grabbing everything he'll need to patch up your wound. Bucky feels his phone vibrating in his pocket as he wipes the alcoholic pad across your skin.

"Hey, Steve," the super-soldier answers his phone, putting it on speaker before setting it on the table beside him.

"She okay?" He asks immediately and Bucky swallows thickly.

"Uhm, not exactly. She looks like she got the shit beat out of her, and she got stabbed," he informs the blonde.

Bucky runs a hand over his face after patching up your stab wound, turning his attention to your face. "Shit, Bucky. Okay, I'll let Tony know and tell you what he says," Steve mumbles and Bucky nods his head in response.

The phone hangs up and Bucky shuffles towards your upper body, grabbing another alcohol wipe. "God, I'm so sorry, Y/N," he sighs while wiping the dried blood off of your face. "I'm gonna need you to pull through this, alright. I need you."

Bucky throws the bloodied wipes away before gently stroking your cheek. He pushes himself off of the floor and grabs a glass of water and some painkillers, setting them on the table beside your bed.

His fingers glide across your forehead, pushing some of your hair out of your face. "Please come back to me."

-

A groan leaves your lips as your eyes flutter open. Your vision clears and you see Bucky sleeping beside your bed, his arms crossed over his chest. A small smile comes to your lips as you attempt to sit up a bit, wincing slightly.

Bucky jumps awake at the sound of you, his blue eyes meeting yours. "Y/N, hey," he whispers, pulling the chair closer to you. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit with a truck," you chuckle while holding your side.

"Here," he mumbles and moves to grab the pills and water beside you, "take these." You mumble a quiet thank you before taking the medicine from him.

You notice his nervous behavior as Bucky sits back down in his chair. "Bucky, I'm fine," you tell him after swallowing the liquid, setting the glass down. "Nothing I haven't handled before."

A sigh leaves the brunette's lips and Bucky runs his fingers through his hair. "It doesn't matter if you've handled it before, Y/N. You went out- on your own- to follow a dangerous man and you could've been killed!" He exclaims with a huff of breath.

"Well, if you were capable of working with me, Bucky, then I wouldn't have to do it alone! Don't you see that I'm trying?! I'm trying so hard to be civil with you, but you don't budge. Probably would've been better if I died. Then I wouldn't have to subject myself to your coldness every fucking day," you practically scream, your chest heaving rapidly.

Bucky's eyes soften at your words, his heart hurting a bit when you said you'd rather be dead than deal with him. "I'm sorry," he whispers loud enough for you to hear and your head turns to look at him.

"You're sorry? For treating me as an outsider for over a year?"

"I… Look, Y/N, I don't have a good reason for my behavior. I wish I did, I really do, but can we start over?" Bucky stutters and hesitantly grabs your hand.

Your heart flutters in your chest as his flesh hand grabs yours, seeing the sincerity in his blue eyes. "Can you stay with me?" You mumble, your fingers interlacing with his.

Bucky smiles softly and nods his head. You smile at him, feeling him squeeze your hand. The sound of your hotel room door opening catches Bucky's attention and the super-soldier suddenly gets up from his chair.

"Buc-"

He covers your mouth with his hand while bringing a finger to his lips, silently telling you to stay quiet. Your eyes widen as talking from the other room finally hits your ears.

"Stay there," Bucky mouths to you and you nod your head, your hands gripping the covers.

Bucky stealthily walks towards the bedroom door, pressing his ear to the wooden structure. "The tracking device says she's here," a man states and Bucky furrows his brows. Tracking device? "Check the bedroom."

Footsteps grow louder and Bucky quickly makes his way back towards you before lifting you off of the bed. Your arms wrap around his neck as the brunette quietly hides the two of you in the closet.

Your fingers stroke the back of his neck soothingly, keeping your gaze on his face the whole time. You notice his jaw clenching as Bucky focuses on the sounds around you.

"She's not here. She must've found it and left it behind," a different voice proclaims, another agreeing with the statement. "Let's go. We'll let Gabriel know."

You swallow thickly as Bucky's eyes meet yours. You can feel his breath fan your face, realizing the distance between the two of you is closer than you thought.

"Is it clear?" You whisper and Bucky gently sets you onto your feet.

"Hold on, let me check," he mumbles while his hands grip your waist, making sure you're steady before releasing you. "You good?"

You nod your head in response and Bucky's hands slip off of your waist before slowly walking out of the closet. You run a hand through your hair as you wait for the super soldier to come back.

"It's clear, c'mon," Bucky tells you and holds his hand out for you to take.

You wince a bit while walking out of the closet, grabbing ahold of Bucky's hand as he leads you back towards the bed. "Did he say something about a tracking device?" You ask him and Bucky nods his head in reply.

You lower yourself onto the bed and think about the event of yesterday. Bucky's eyes meet yours, watching your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Can you think of when they might've placed a tracker on you?" He asks while crouching in front of you, resting his hands against your thighs.

"I…" a short gasp leaves your lips as you remember a guy smirking at you after stabbing your side. "No way…"

"What?"

You pull your shirt over your head and Bucky's eyes widen before looking away. "My stab wound," you whisper.

Bucky snaps his attention to you as you take the bandage off of your side, exposing the wound. "Shit," he mumbles and lifts himself off of the floor. "If you can grab a towel and lay on it. We have to get it out."

You nod your head as he leaves the room. Another wince leaves your lips as you walk into the bathroom, grabbing a fluffy towel from below the sink. When you enter the bedroom again, Bucky stands at the edge of the bed sorting through the different utensils.

"This is gonna hurt," he informs you as you lay back on the bed, one of your hands gripping the sheets.

"It's okay," you whisper while nodding your head.

Bucky gives you a small smile before kneeling beside the bed. Your chest heaves rapidly as the super-soldier re-opens your wound. His blue eyes flit up to your face as you stare at the ceiling, trying to keep your mind distracted.

"I'm going to dig around to try and find the device, alright?" He reassures you and you nod your head, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Bucky's flesh hand rests on your stomach, feeling his thumb gently stroke your skin. Two of his vibranium fingers dip into your stab wound, a hiss leaving your lips at the uncomfortable feeling. "B-Bucky-"

"I'm sorry," he apologizes as the metal fingers move around. "It'll be over soon."

You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down harshly. A cry escapes your lips as Bucky's fingers travel deeper, tears pooling in your eyes. Sadness fills Bucky's eyes as you whither beneath his touch, wishing he could find the damn tracker faster.

Bucky's brows raise when his metal fingers graze against something cylindrical. "I got it, doll," the nickname slips out and your heart flutters in your chest, turning your head to face him.

His eyes are already on you, seeing the concerned look swimming in the baby blues. "Agh! Bucky-" you breathe out as the device scrapes along the inside of your skin.

"Sorry," he whispers and manages to pull the tracking device out without hurting you anymore, crushing the tiny object between his vibranium fingers.

You take deep breaths as the super-soldier quickly gets up so he can replace your bandage. You keep your gaze on Bucky the entire time as he tends to the wound. "You're pretty," you whisper, not being able to stop the words from leaving your lips.

Bucky looks up at you through his lashes as he releases a small laugh. Butterflies swarm around your stomach as the man leans forward to press a gentle kiss to the fresh bandage, your breath hitching in your throat.

"You're prettier. Let me get you some water," he mentions before leaving the room once more.

He thinks I'm pretty. You think to yourself as a smile comes to your lips, bringing your gaze back to the ceiling.

-

"Tony, you don't get it. They know someone's after them. I think we should hold off until they're less suspicious," you hear Bucky talking in the other room. A sigh leaves your lips, the argument continuing on as you inspect the bruises on your face in the en suite.

You wince at the tenderness, rubbing the arnica ointment around your left eye. "Look, Bucky, the best I can do is move you to a different room and extend the mission. We can pull out on this now. We're too close," Tony says before hanging up the phone.

"Fucking hell," Bucky mutters as you leave the bathroom. You walk into the living area to see Bucky throw his phone onto the table before plopping onto the couch. "He's not letting us leave."

"I heard," you sit beside him, tucking one of your legs under the other, "I mean he's right in a way. We're so close to capturing this guy. I should've been more careful, I'm sorry."

The blue-eyed man glances towards you, leaning against the furniture. "It's not your fault. You were just doing your job. It's my fault that I made you believe you had to do this yourself," he mentions and you press your lips together.

"Well, good thing we're starting over, yeah?" You ask and Bucky's eyes widen, his lips parting slightly. You chuckle softly at the shocked look on his face and gently press your fingers against his chin, shutting his mouth.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, sorry," Bucky whispers, running a hand through his hair.  You watch as he glides his tongue across his bottom lip, low-key wishing you could taste his lips. "So, we should probably figure out which room Tony moved us to."

You and Bucky proceed to make your way to the lobby and talk to the reception desk, hoping the billionaire already called to make the arrangements. You keep an eye out as Bucky talks to the woman, your fingers drumming along the mahogany desk.

"Ah, yes, I just got off the phone with Mr. Stark. Here are your new room keys," she says with a smile, and Bucky politely thanks her while taking the keycards into his hand.

"C'mon," he mumbles and hesitantly grabs your hand, his blue eyes looking around the place.

Your eyes widen upon seeing the elevator door opening, a few men you recognize standing inside of it and you push Bucky towards the wall.

"Y/N-"

"Kiss me," you whisper and his blue eyes widen as he looks down at you.

"W-What-"

"Public display of affection makes people uncomfortable," you state, remembering Natasha mentioning that if you were ever in a sticky situation.

Bucky wets his lips and nods his head in agreement. "Yes, they do…" he trails off and you let out a huff of breath.

You grab a hold of his shirt, pulling him closer to you as you lean on your toes. Bucky places his hand against the wall, stabilizing himself as your lips connect with his. His vibranium hand grips your hip, a short moan escaping his lips as your fingers card through his hair.

Your heart flutters in your chest at the feeling of his soft lips. It takes Bucky a few seconds before he starts moving his lips against yours, deepening the kiss. You hear the men muttering to themselves as they walk past the two of you.

"Fuckin' kids," one of them grunts.

Bucky leans forward, pressing your back against the wall as he pulls away slightly. You keep your eyes closed and you breathe heavily as his nose nudges yours lightly.

"Are they gone?" He whispers against your lips.

You flutter your eyes open and look over his shoulder, seeing them walking out the main doors of the hotel. "Y-Yeah," you mumble, causing the brunette to take a step back. "Sorry about that, I just… didn't know what else to do."

Bucky shakes his head, mumbling that it’s alright. He reaches for your hand again, leading you towards the elevator. You chew on your bottom lip as the two of you stand in the elevator in silence, feeling the tension between the two of you thickening.

“Why don’t you head to the new room and I’ll work on transferring our stuff?” Bucky mentions and you nod your head in response.

“Sure,” you mumble and grab one of the room keys from his hand, watching the muscly man step out of the elevator. “I’ll see you up there.”

After a short ride up a couple of more floors, you step out of the elevator before heading towards your new room. Maybe one with two beds this time. You think to yourself while placing the key into the lock. You step into the room and let out a gasp, seeing rose petals everywhere. “Oh, no,” you mumble and shut the door quickly, trying to gather as many petals as you can. “What in the actual fuck, Tony. I swear to God,” You mumble to yourself while rolling your eyes.

The door handle to the room begins to turn and you rush towards it, opening it just a smidge. Bucky glances down at you with a concerned look as you try to find the right words. “What’s going on?” He asks you and you press your lips together. “Y/N?”

“Just… don’t take it out on me, okay?” You whisper and Bucky furrows his brows as you fully open the hotel room door.

Bucky’s eyes widened after seeing rose petals everywhere, causing him to curse under his breath. “I’m going to kill him,” he states and a chuckle leaves your lips.

You grab your bag from the hallway before shutting the room’s door. You watch Bucky aggressively pick up flower petals from the floor and furniture. “Maybe this was the only room available,” you chuckle while heading towards the bedroom.

“I doubt it,” he mutters bitterly as you open the secondary door.

“Oh, come one,” you groan as you notice the large king-sized bed sitting in the middle of the room. “Bucky!”

“Yeah?” He calls out, hearing his footsteps grow closer to where you’re standing. You glance over your shoulder and see his lips part in disbelief. “You’re joking me,” Bucky sighs before rubbing his fingers against his forehead.

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and wet your lips. “I’ll take the couch this time,” you tell him and Bucky glances down at you.

“Y-You have bruised ribs, Y/N. I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch,” he mentions and you shrug your shoulders in response.

A sigh leaves your lips as you slap your hands along your thighs, turning to face Bucky. “Well, if you’re willing to deal with me… you can sleep in the same bed. I don’t mind,” you shyly tell him, feeling your cheeks flush. You begin to panic when Bucky says nothing and you clear your throat, scratching the back of your neck. “O-Or you don’t have to. I just wanted you to be comfortable.”

Bucky’s blue eyes soften at your words as he watches you walk further into the room. The man wets his lips before running a hand through his hair. “We can share,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear.

“A-Are you sure?” You stutter, your eyes meeting his and the brunette nods his head in response. Bucky gives you an awkward smile and you let out a tiny giggle, taking a step towards him.

“What are you laughing about?” He huffs and you bite your lip, bringing your hands to his face before lifting the sides of his lips. Bucky playfully rolls his eyes and swats your hands away from him.

A genuine smile graces his pink lips and your heart flutters at the sight. “There’s a real smile,” you tell him, both of your cheeks heating up. “Should do it more often, Bucky, it looks good on you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bucky whispers before walking out of the room to gather his things.

-

“Okay, so, I managed to gather some more intel on Gabriel,” Bucky mentions while walking into the bedroom. The super-soldier grabs the laptop Tony supplied him before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

You lift the ice pack from your ribs and glance down at the bruised skin. “As good as I can be, I guess. It still hurts to bend over a bit, but I manage,” you chuckle as Bucky glances over his shoulder, seeing the purplish skin. “What’d you find out?”

“That he’s got a business meeting in the restaurant later tonight. Turns out the man he’s meeting has ties to HYDRA,” Bucky informs you while typing out what he discovered.

Bucky closes the laptop after finishing the report, making sure it is sent to Tony before fully turning the device off. Your eyes watch him gracefully move throughout the room, feeling a bit useless after getting attacked over twenty-four hours ago. “Do you need help with the meeting?” You ask him and the super-soldier shakes his head. “Buck-”

“You still need to heal, Y/N. I got this,” he mentions, and you sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“Can I at least be on comms when you go? I'm tired of just sitting here and doing nothing," you bargain.

Bucky doesn't answer you while pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it on the chair that sits in the corner of the room. "Fine, you can be on comms," he mumbles and you grin as then throws the covers back before getting on the bed.

"Thank you, Bucky," you whisper as the super-soldier lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

He turns his head towards you, his eyes noticing the fading bruise under your eye. He shuffles so he's laying on his side before reaching his vibranium hand out. Bucky notices how you don't flinch, seeing the smile steady on your lips as his metal fingers glide across your under-eye.

"Does it hurt?" Bucky whispers and you shake your head.

His eyes flicker down to your lips for a hot second before meeting your eyes again. "Have you ever kissed anyone before me, Bucky?" You ask him as you shuffle a bit closer to him.

You notice his cheeks blush and you teasingly smile at him. "I- No," he confesses and you tuck your lip between your teeth.

"C-Can I ask you a serious question?" You whisper, feeling his breath fanning your face. Bucky nods his head against his pillow, feeling a bit nervous about what you're going to ask. "Why do you hate me?"

A sigh leaves his lips as his blue eyes flutter shut for a few moments. Bucky wets his lips before sitting up, leaning his back against the headboard. You sit up as well, keeping your eyes on him as you notice the gears turning in his head.

"I don't hate you, Y/N. I really don't. I just… I guess I was jealous of you. I mean," Bucky pauses and slaps his hands against his thighs, "I don't have a good reason for being cold to you. Steve's right, you know? I do have a hard time showing my feelings."

Bucky's hand gently grabs yours and strokes the back of your hand. "It took me getting hurt for you to realize," you mumble softly and Bucky's chest clenches.

"I'm sorry that I let you down. I was so apathetic and I know it's pathetic, but I'm going to be here for you here on out," he exclaims and the corner of your mouth lifts into a small smile.

"Promise me?" You whisper as Bucky brings his free hand to your face.

His blue eyes search yours for a few moments before gently kissing your lips. "I promise you."

You rest your forehead against his, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as your heart pounds wildly against your chest. Bucky's hand slides along the side of your throat before resting on the back of your neck. Your lips meet his again while running your hands along his torso.

The kiss didn't last long before the two of you lie back down, your head resting on his chest. "You'll always have a place in me."

-

Taglist: @wkemeup​ @jessalyn-jpeg​ @queen-of-mischief​ @metalbuckaroo​ @thewxntersoldier​ @bumblebet-20​

[crossbowking]

Honey & Whiskey

Summary: (Set throughout series) When the world ended, everything good died along with it. At least, that's what Daryl Dixon thought. But then he met a stranger in the woods and his entire world turned upside down.

A/N: HOLY MOLY. I can't believe it's here! I've been working on this story since October and I'm so excited for y'all to finally read it. This story is absolutely my favorite of all time and it's 20,835 words of pure Daryl POV (which is just *chef kiss*) — that being said, it’s also a slow burn...and I mean an entirely self-indulgent SLOWWWW burn. So strap in, y’all.

PSA: There are mentions of 'Dog' in this story that are sort of non-canon, especially now that we've seen a backstory as to how Daryl actually found him in the show...so for the sake of the story, let's just pretend 10.18 doesn't exist :)

Anywho, please be sure to share your thoughts with me afterward!

Happy reading!

xx Jess

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The sun dipped below the horizon, the sky alight with brilliant orange and yellow rays.

Daryl tilted his head back, glancing up at the shifting colors as night drew near. The air was crisp, a welcomed change from the usual summer heat. The streets of Alexandria were fairly empty, most already settling into their respective homes before nightfall. Though the unusual silence was near deafening, the archer paid it no mind.

He appreciated the quiet these days.

The grass poked and prodded beneath where he sat, but he simply shifted, drawing one knee to his chest, the other leg splayed out in front of him. He picked absently at one of the holes in his worn jeans, tugging at the string hanging off the fabric.

And then he thought of her.

Leaves and twigs crunched beneath Daryl’s boots as he traversed through the otherwise silent woods.

The farm was destroyed, winter was approaching, and there seemed to be an ever-looming pang of hunger in the pit of his stomach. He pushed away any inkling of weakness, forging ahead with determined strides. His people were waiting for him, hunkering down in an abandoned diner less than a mile East, hoping he’d bring back something to dull the growing ache inside all of them.

Daryl’s steps faltered — ‘his’ people.

The thought had come so naturally it nearly took him off guard. The feeling of community, of belonging, was something he’d never felt in his entire life. It was a strange notion, but that drive, that need he felt to provide, pushed him further out into the forest.

The archer kept his footsteps light, practically imperceptible, listening for noises only a seasoned hunter could distinguish. When a twig suddenly snapped off to his left, he froze, scanning the stillness around him. He raised his crossbow, the weight familiar in his grasp as he took a small step in the direction the noise had come from.

A moment later, Daryl spotted it — a lone raccoon just a few yards ahead.

The archer felt a rush of adrenaline, a tingling sensation in his fingertips as they hovered over the trigger. He exhaled a soft breath, focusing all his attention on the animal. But with his concentration elsewhere, it wasn’t until after he’d pulled the trigger that he’d realized he was no longer alone in the woods.

Daryl spun around, coming face to face with an incredibly grotesque-looking walker, teeth bared, arms outstretched, launching itself towards him. The archer braced his arm against the biter’s throat just in time, grunting under its weight as he stumbled backward.

“Shit,” he snarled through gritted teeth, tossing his unloaded weapon aside as he fought against the attack. Using his free hand, he reached for the hunting knife secured on his belt, grabbing onto the hilt.

But before he could yank it out, the world began tilting rapidly around him.

Daryl’s back slammed against the harsh wooded ground, his foot tangled up in an exposed root. He spat another vicious curse as the walker thrashed on top of him, snapping its mangled jaw closer and closer, growling in starved desperation.

Then suddenly, it stilled.

The archer froze, his gaze locked on the unexpected sight of one of his arrows now embedded through the biter’s temple. He snapped out of his reverie, shoving the dead off his chest and scrambling back to his feet.

And then he saw her.

She stood just a few feet away, her rapid breathing mirroring his own, looking as though she was seconds away from passing out. Her hair was matted by a mixture of blood and dirt, her clothes were torn and ratted, her wide eyes seemingly too big for her gaunt features. She had a nasty cut across her temple, blood dripping down the side of her face, past her neck, pooling at the collar of her shirt.

Daryl’s eyes bounced back up to meet hers — his guarded and calloused, hers unsure and fatigued.

“I’m assuming — this — is yours?” she spoke between heaving breaths, tossing something in his direction, the motion causing her to sway unsteadily.

Daryl glanced down, spotting the raccoon he’d shot earlier now lying at his feet — but the arrow he’d used to kill it was no longer there.

Now, it was lodged through the skull of the walker that’d attacked him.

The archer focused back on the stranger — but before he could respond, her skin was suddenly paling, her body crumpling to the ground like a paper doll.

Daryl stared down at her unmoving form in bewilderment. He could tell by the shallow rise and fall of her chest that she was at least breathing. The cut on her temple was still bleeding, the wound looking fairly recent — his best guess was a concussion or exhaustion. Most likely both.

He took a small step forward, almost hesitantly. But when his approach didn’t stir the stranger, he found himself facing an unforeseen decision.

He could leave her — he should leave her. She wasn’t his responsibility. She was a complete stranger. She chose to intervene, not him. She made that choice. Not him. Her.

Though as he turned to leave, as he scooped up the limp raccoon and shoved it into his bag, as he grabbed his strewn crossbow and strapped it across his back, one thing became startlingly clear.

He couldn’t do it — he couldn’t just walk away.

Daryl huffed a defeated breath. “Shit.”

He could’ve sworn that day in the woods was an entire lifetime ago.

Rick had nearly lost his damn mind when he’d returned to the diner with not only a small woodland creature in his pack, but a stranger slung over his shoulder.

“Is she dead?” Carl pressed nosily, hovering by the booth where the stranger was now laid out, still unconscious.

Lori quickly intervened, moving forward with one hand on her protruding belly, the other grabbing onto Carl’s shoulder. “Step back, baby. Give Hershel some space to work, okay?” she cautioned, pulling the inquisitive boy away.

“Oh, it’s quite alright — I’m just about done here anyways,” Hershel drawled, setting aside the blood-soaked cloth he’d been using to tend to the stranger’s head wound.

Daryl watched the exchange from across the room, arms folded tight against his chest, ignoring the stares coming from other group members.

The front door of the diner suddenly swung open as Rick marched through. He shot the archer a disapproving look before addressing the others. “I think we’re okay,” he finally spoke, re-holstering his pistol. “If Daryl had been followed here, I’m sure we would’ve known by now. We’ll keep somebody on watch — jus’ as a precaution — an’ get back on the road first thing.”

The archer gnawed on the inside of his cheek as the rest of the group began whispering amongst themselves, clearly distressed about the possible danger his decision may have put them in.

Rick approached a moment later, his steadfast strides immediately setting Daryl on edge. “Can I speak with you?” the sheriff hissed, glancing over his shoulder and locking eyes with Lori’s worried gaze. “In private?” he added in a hushed tone before turning around and storming back outside.

Daryl scoffed under his breath, pushing away from the counter he’d been leaning against and stalking after Rick.

The archer yanked the door open, the cool air biting at his skin as he followed suit. He spotted Rick pacing back and forth across the parking lot, surveying the surrounding woods warily before spinning around and facing him head-on.

“What the hell were you thinkin’?” Rick demanded, taking a step forward.

Daryl fought back the instinctual urge to be on the attack. Instead, he took a breath. “What was I supposed ta’ do, man? Jus’ leave her out there?” he countered, eyes narrowing.

“You don’t bring her here,” the sheriff snapped before pinching the bridge of his nose, attempting to collect himself. “We — we have ta’ look after our own, Daryl — you know that. We have no idea who she is, where she came from, who she’s with,” he specified sharply before shaking his head. “That’s jus' not a risk I’m willin’ ta’ take. Are you?”

Daryl held Rick’s gaze for a long moment before looking away, glancing towards the tree line. The sheriff had a point, he couldn’t deny that. But there was something inside him, a nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach that said otherwise.

Rick slowly nodded, interpreting Daryl’s silence as an answer. “When she wakes, she’s gone,” he finally resolved, stepping past the archer and back towards the diner without another word.

But Daryl couldn’t let it go. “Hey,” he called after Rick, the sheriff’s strides halting mid-pace as he glanced back, the harshness in his features fading, unveiling a man with nothing but the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Back when Carl got shot, if Hershel had turned us away, what’d ya think would’a happened?”

Rick paused before exhaling a long, heavy breath, some of the fight leaving him with it. “That’s not — it’s not the same —”

“It is,” Daryl interjected. “It’s the same damn thing.”

The air grew quiet as Rick’s shoulders sagged, one hand resting against his hip. “My family…” he suddenly murmured, shaking his head sadly. “I can’t risk it.”

Daryl nodded once. “I get it. After everythin’ with Shane an’ Randall, losin’ the farm the way we did, I get it, man,” he rasped, regarding him earnestly. “But m’ tellin’ ya…this’s the wrong call, Rick.”

The diner door suddenly flung open, interrupting the conversation and revealing a flustered-looking Glenn.

“Uh, hey guys,” he interrupted, sending the pair an awkward wave. “Just wanted to let you know that she’s, uh — she’s awake.”

Rick and Daryl shared a look.

“And kinda freaking out,” Glenn quickly tacked on at the end.

Daryl didn’t hesitate. He stormed past Rick and back into the diner, making a beeline towards the small crowd that had gathered around her.

“— okay, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you, sweetheart,” Lori spoke softly, holding her hands out in front of her as though approaching a caged animal.

The archer pushed through the group, spotting the stranger a moment later.

She was still sitting in the booth he’d initially laid her out in — though now she was huddled away from everyone, back pressed up against the wall, knees drawn to her chest in a cowering stance. Her gaze darted frantically around the room, clearly confused and disoriented and overwhelmed.

Daryl couldn’t even begin to understand why, but he felt a wave of outrage course through him.

“C’mon, people. She ain’t a fuckin’ zoo animal,” the archer growled abruptly, taking a defensive stance in front of the booth and motioning for the rest of the group to move back. “Give the girl some damn space.”

The archer waited until everyone stepped away before turning back around and glancing down at the stranger. He was surprised to see her eyes trained on him — even more surprised at the flush of heat that spread across his chest. He held her gaze a second longer before Rick appeared, parting through the crowd like Moses and the Red Sea.

The stranger shrunk away.

Daryl wondered why the sight bothered him so much.

Rick came to a slow halt in front of her. “What’s your name?” he finally asked, his tone measured and firm.

The stranger did another sweep of the room, as though surveying just how much possible danger she was in. But when her eyes flashed up towards the archer once again, some of her unease faded. “Y/N,” she spoke hesitantly.

Rick nodded slowly before extending his arm. “Rick Grimes.”

Y/N looked at the gesture cautiously. Still, she reached out and took his hand in hers.

She appeared composed but Daryl noticed the slight tremble in her grip.

After a brief shake, Rick grabbed an empty chair and sat down at the end of the booth, resting his forearms against the table. “So, Y/N,” he began, giving the archer a look of resolve. “What happened ta’ you?”

The time after the farm fell was foggy, each day blurring into the next, suffocated by a heaviness the unknown inherently brought. But that day, the day he met her, ran stark against the rest.

Y/N had told her story like Rick asked her to do. She spoke of the small group she’d been staying with and the refuge they’d built, ultimately destroyed by the dead. Everybody had scattered — and if they hadn’t…

Any previous hesitancies the group held melted into understanding and sympathy almost immediately.

Daryl had known Y/N would be accepted into the group. Rick had hardened since the farm, but he wasn’t heartless. He wouldn’t be able to turn her away, just as the archer hadn’t been able to leave her out in those woods.

Spending the winter season on the run had been difficult for everyone — constantly running from the dead, cold and bitter nights, supplies growing scarce. The road was unforgiving, proving time and time again how completely fucked this new world was, how things would never return to the way they were, how this was now the new way of life.

Though for Daryl, if he was being honest, it wasn’t all bad — not in comparison to what his old life had given him.

He’d choose a lifetime of running over the stench of whiskey and the sting of belt buckles any day.

The only other person who’d appeared unaffected was Y/N. Besides showcasing a natural skillset in survival, she’d found her place amongst the group with ease — so effortlessly that Daryl hadn’t been able to recall what life looked like before her. She exuded a warmth that people were drawn towards — that the rest of the group clung to during the darkest of days.

But not Daryl.

He’d kept her at a distance, kept her at arm’s length because he refused to let her in as everyone else had.

Little did he know.

Daryl swiped at the beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face.

The Georgian heat was nearly suffocating, blanketing over his body and setting his skin ablaze. He pushed away the discomfort, bending down and grabbing the ankles of one of the many walkers spread out across the prison’s courtyard. He’d lost track of how many bodies he’d dragged out, his group working tirelessly to clean out their newfound home.

The archer had just pulled the limp body through one of the fences, nearing the pickup truck used for disposal, when he heard someone approach.

“Need a hand?”

Daryl stilled — he glanced up, his eyes locking with Y/N’s, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Her hair was pulled back out of her face, a thin sheen of sweat laid out across her forehead. One hand rested on her hip, the other hovered near her face, blocking the sun rays. The sleeves of her shirt were rolled up past her elbows, streaks of dirt and blood visible against her exposed skin.

He realized then that she was really rather beautiful.

The intrusive thought caught the archer completely off guard. He quickly turned his attention downward, grunting a half-assed ‘nah’ before continuing his trek to the pickup truck, determined to preserve some space between them.

But instead of leaving, as he’d assumed she would, Y/N remained rooted in place.

Daryl faltered, the expression that flickered across her face hinting that maybe she hadn’t come to just ‘lend a helping hand’. She had something on her mind — he could tell by the way she snagged her bottom lip between her teeth, gnawing absently as she shifted her weight back and forth.

The archer dropped his hold from around the walker’s ankles and straightened. “What?” he demanded gruffly, curiosity getting the best of him.

Y/N’s eyes found his as she took a small step forward — Daryl fought back the urge to back up. “I, uh —” she paused, her mouth twisting to the side as though fumbling for the right words. “Just — thank you.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “For what?” he huffed.

Y/N’s head cocked to the side, seemingly surprised. “I — I don’t know,” she murmured, a soft, sort of bewildered laugh slipping past her lips. “For bringing me here, for introducing me to your people — for everything, I guess,” she expressed sincerely. “You could’ve just left me out in those woods that day — most people would’ve.”

The archer chewed on the inside of his cheek, feeling incredibly exposed for some strange reason. “Was nothin’,” he finally grunted, ignoring the prickle of heat at the tips of his ears.

“It wasn’t nothing,” Y/N replied indignantly, like she was offended at the notion that he didn’t deserve her gratitude. “You saved my life.”

Daryl shifted uncomfortably, wanting nothing more than for this interaction to be over with — because once that happened, he could go back to maintaining his distance, he could go back to allowing the air between them to be just that. “Figured I owed ya,” he finally mustered, recalling the first day they’d met.

Y/N’s lips curled up into a megawatt smile and Daryl could’ve sworn he’d never seen anything so damn captivating in his entire life. “Okay,” she grinned, sticking her hand out in front of her. “We’ll call it even then.”

The archer glanced down at the gesture before warily reaching forward, taking her hand in his, and shaking once, twice, three times. Her grip was firm and she didn’t seem to mind the grime coating his skin.

When she pulled away, Daryl felt the empty spaces she’d filled set ablaze.

Y/N shot him one last smile before turning around and heading back towards the courtyard. But she’d only made it a few feet when she paused, glancing over her shoulder. “Make sure you eat something, okay?”

She didn’t wait for a response — instead, she narrowed her eyes, shooting him a look in mock-seriousness as if to say ‘I’m watching you’. Then her face broke out into another grin before she sent him a small wave — and she was gone.

Daryl watched her leave, unable to pull his gaze from her retreating form.

He tried to ignore the mess his mind was becoming, littered with confusion and insecurity, the nagging voice that lingered telling him he’d never be good enough, strong enough, brave enough for anything other than what he’d always known.

He wouldn’t let her in — he couldn’t let her in.

But as he bent down, grasping onto either ankle of the walker at his feet, he felt a tingling sensation in his fingertips he swore had everything to do with the Georgian heat and nothing to do with her.

A gentle breeze roused Daryl from his thoughts.

He shifted from where he sat, reaching into the pocket of his jeans for the pack of cigarettes he kept there.

The package was falling apart, half-crushed, half-wrinkled from everyday wear and tear, but the archer slipped one of the few remaining cigarettes out anyway and caught it between his lips.

It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that keeping Y/N at arm’s length was a futile attempt — he’d been naive to think it was possible in the first place.

Before he knew it, she’d wormed her way into the forefronts of his mind and found herself a nice, cozy corner to call home. She’d done it as effortlessly as the blink of an eye or the beat of a heart. It just happened — no rhyme or reason, no explanation or logic. It just happened.

Which made leaving that much harder.

“Daryl!”

The archer ignored Glenn’s shout, marching further into the woods and approaching a snide-looking Merle. “C’mon, bro,” the younger brother grunted, worried if they didn’t leave right then and there, he’d change his mind and return to the prison with the others.

Merle’s booming laugh sounded, drawing Daryl from his thoughts. “Well, I’ll be damned,” the man sneered, tossing an arm around the archer’s shoulders. “Looks like somebody decided ta’ grow himself a big ole’ pair a’ cojones while I was gone,” he snarked, pushing Daryl forward and falling in step beside him.

The archer pressed his lips together, swallowing his retort and focusing ahead.

“Hey, wait up!”

The voice that sounded halted Daryl in his tracks. He spun around, spotting Y/N making her way through the forest, her strides long and determined as she headed straight towards him.

“Well, would ya look a’ that,” Merle quipped under his breath, leering at her approach, his tone sending a swell of aggravation through the younger brother.

“Jus’ gimme a minute,” Daryl quickly waved him off, ignoring the prickle of heat creeping up his neck as he trudged towards her.

Y/N came to a stop in front of him, slightly out of breath, her eyes searching his for a long moment.

She seemed to have something to say, a reason for chasing after him — but it was as though she couldn’t get the words together. She glanced down, shaking her head slowly before taking a deep breath. When she looked back up, Daryl noticed a resignation in her gaze that wasn’t there before.

“Are you sure about this?” she finally asked, her troubled expression sending a pang of guilt through him.

Daryl looked away. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure — he wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

He shifted his weight, focusing back on her. “Ya watch out for yourself, ya hear me?” he rumbled, pushing away the unexpected worry gnawing at him.

Y/N’s shoulders sagged in disappointment, her defeated expression damn near changing his mind altogether. “I will,” she murmured, a bittersweet smile ghosting across her features.

Daryl held her gaze a moment longer before nodding once, turning without another word.

But he’d barely taken a step when he suddenly felt her grab his wrist and twist him back around.

Before he knew what was happening, Y/N was hugging him. She threw her arms around his middle and squeezed tight, leaving Daryl completely and utterly dumbfounded. His arms hung limply at his sides, caught off guard by the surprising gesture. Though as soon as it’d begun, it ended. Y/N unwound herself from around his body and took a step back, a pink tinge to her cheeks he hadn’t noticed earlier.

She whispered a somber goodbye — though Daryl couldn’t hear it over the sound of the blood rushing to his ears — and then she was gone.

The archer fought back the urge to follow, telling himself over and over again that he was making the right decision — he was choosing blood, he was choosing family, he was choosing —

“Hey! Where’s my hug at, sweet cheeks?” Merle’s suddenly hollered, calling after Y/N.

She didn’t look back and Daryl fought back the impulse to start swinging.

But Merle just laughed, the noise loud and boisterous as he sauntered forward. “Damn, lil’ brother. Didn’t think ya had it in ya! I was startin’ ta’ think ya played for the other fuckin’ team’,” he jeered, clapping the archer on the back with more force than necessary.

Daryl’s entire body tensed up, his darkened gaze snapping towards his brother. He noticed then that Merle was also watching Y/N — though his eye line was fixated on one specific part of her body…

“Let’s go,” the archer spat under his breath as he spun around and stormed off, his hands balling into fists.

He had to walk away. Otherwise, he’d lose it — he’d give in to instinct, he’d allow the rage coursing through him to take over, and all of this would’ve been for nothing.

So he took a deep breath, relaxed his clenched fists, and dismissed any lingering thoughts of her.

Daryl scoffed at the memory, an unlit cigarette still caught between his teeth.

He pulled out his lighter and flicked his thumb against the wheel, sparking a small flame before inhaling a deep breath. The familiar taste of nicotine and ash filled his senses as he drew smoke into his lungs, immediately feeling a rush of calm flow through him.

Daryl existed in the quiet, taking another long drag of his cigarette. He pulled his legs towards his chest, resting his elbows atop his knees, letting his hands dangle in front of him. He watched the lit cigarette butt dim and dance between his fingertips, the embers burning off and drifting into the grass.

It’d only taken a single day for the archer to come to his senses — to realize the mistake he’d made in leaving with his brother. And if he was being honest, it’d had nothing to do with Merle. He couldn’t blame his brother because his brother hadn’t changed — his brother was still the same brash, volatile, ill-tempered redneck he’d known his whole life.

No, it was him — he was the one who had changed.

“Would ya slow yer damn roll? I ain’t the athlete I used ta’ be, ya know!” Merle bellowed from somewhere behind Daryl, clearly struggling to keep up with the younger brother’s pace.

But the archer didn’t slow, his strides matching the beat of his pounding heart. He ducked under tree branches and side-stepped exposed roots, the prison growing nearer with each step he took.

It wasn’t until Daryl heard a sudden thud, followed by a viciously snarled curse, that he slowed. He spun around, spotting Merle pushing up off the forest floor.

“Ya good?” Daryl called out, crossing back and reaching down, offering his hand.

But Merle just swatted him away, his expression twisting in contempt as he staggered back to his feet. “Lemme ask ya somethin’,” he growled. “How the hell ya think this’s gonna go, huh? Ya think those assholes are jus’ gonna forget ‘bout everythin’ that happened? Ya think we’re jus’ gonna hug it out an’ sing ‘round the campfire like some kinda damn afternoon special?”

The archer fought back the urge to roll his eyes. “Ya —”

“This ‘bout that skirt from yesterday? Huh? That it?” Merle steamrolled over his attempt to interrupt, taking a step forward, the brothers now toe to toe.

Daryl felt a prickle of heat flush the back of his neck, his chest tightening. Merle was just trying to get a rise out of him — he knew that deep down — but damn, was it working. “It ain’t ‘bout her,” the archer growled defensively, fixing him with a glare. “It’s ‘bout survival, ’bout rebuildin’ — ‘bout tryin’ ta’ make somethin’ outta this shit world. It can’t jus’ be us out here, man — not anymore.”

Merle rolled his eyes. “Oh, c’mon, did Officer Friendly force-feed ya that bullshit?”

Daryl stiffened before huffing a breath and waving his brother off. He turned away, determined to continue his trek back home before it was too late — but he’d only made it a couple of feet when Merle called after him once more.

“It ain’t ever gonna work,” the older brother voiced, his usually brash tone dimming into something surprisingly vulnerable. “It — it jus’ ain’t. Not after everythin’ — not after what I did.”

The archer glanced back, watching Merle’s notorious bravado finally melt away, replaced with something he could’ve sworn looked like guilt. “We ain’t dead yet, man,” Daryl rumbled simply. “Still time ta’ make shit right.”

Merle considered his words for a long moment — but before he could respond, the sound of barraging gunfire exploded through the air.

Daryl’s head snapped in the direction of the noise, feeling his stomach drop when he realized where exactly it was coming from.

He took off into a sprint, Merle’s pounding footsteps echoing directly behind him.

Daryl lied to his brother that day.

In his defense, it hadn’t been deliberate. When Merle had questioned his intentions, alluding to the idea that Y/N was the main reason for his urgency to return home, the archer had denied it.

He hadn’t known it back then, but the truth became startlingly clear once he’d made it back to the prison, marched up the pathway leading to cellblock C, and laid eyes on her.

Daryl found Y/N crouched down beside Axel’s unmoving form, one hand resting on his shoulder.

His steps faltered, feeling as though he was intruding on a private moment — but he couldn’t help himself. The Governor had attacked the prison, his people were shaken, and damn it, he just needed to make sure she was okay.

She stood a moment later, turning to rejoin the rest of the group huddled by the fence, her despondent expression filling his bones with a red-hot rage.

But then her eyes met his.

Y/N’s footsteps stilled, her gaze widening in disbelief as she looked at him. A heartbeat passed between them before Daryl noticed how she was holding herself — hunched over slightly, one hand wrapped around the opposite arm, blood seeping out from between her fingertips.

He crossed to her in three long strides, ignoring the heat that flushed his chest the closer he neared.

Instead, he focused on the wound — that he could deal with, that made sense.

Unlike the unexpected and rapid thrumming of his pulse.

“Daryl,” she breathed in disbelief, her voice thick as though the word had gotten tangled somewhere in her throat.

His name sounded like honey the way it rolled off her tongue.

He shrugged off his crossbow and tossed it aside, wordlessly reaching forward and pulling her hand away from the injury. He examined the laceration carefully — which upon closer inspection appeared to be a gunshot wound — though luckily enough, the bullet seemed to have only grazed the side of her arm.

The archer reached into his back pocket, grabbed the red rag he kept there, and gently pressed it against the wound. “Jus’ keep pressure on it, alright?” he rasped, guiding Y/N’s limp hand to rest over the cloth, stalling the blood flow.

He glanced down at her, doing a slight double-take when he realized she was watching him, a slightly strained smile pulling at her lips. “You came back,” she whispered, her eyes warm despite the blood splattered across her cheek, the pallor in her complexion.

Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat, incredibly aware of how little space remained between them. He managed a stiff nod in response, his voice suddenly lost.

But Y/N’s smile merely grew, like the first hint of sunshine after a devastating storm.

And the tightness in his chest finally faded.

The archer inhaled another long drag from his cigarette, the smoke spilling past his lips and disappearing into the growing night.

Returning to the prison had given Daryl a sense of purpose, a sense of hope — he was back where he belonged and the threat of the Governor just didn’t seem so insurmountable anymore.

And then his big brother went and got himself killed.

Daryl stormed across the field that led to the prison’s courtyard, shoulders set, fists balled, eyes rimmed red.

The Governor would pay — he’d pay for what he’d done.

To Glenn, to Maggie, to countless others.

He’d pay for what he did to Merle.

The archer’s footsteps faltered, only briefly, when he spotted Y/N pacing back and forth behind the gate. Her head snapped towards him as he approached, her worried expression melting into relief as she quickly pulled the gate open for him.

“You okay?” she called to him, brow furrowing as she craned her neck, now looking behind him. “Where’s Merle?”

Daryl kept his gaze forward, digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand as he marched past her without a second glance. “Dead,” he grunted, ignoring the prickling sensation growing behind his eyes.

“What?” he heard her exclaim, though he didn’t turn around — he kept his momentum pushing ahead, hellbent on going after the Governor and taking him down once and for all.

No matter what the cost.

He stalked towards where he’d parked his motorcycle, slinging his crossbow over his back and mounting the bike in one swift motion.

But Y/N was just as quick.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she jogged towards him, planting herself in front of the bike, an alarmed look in her eyes. “What’re you doing?”

Daryl felt a swell of anger wash over him, an unusual feeling when directed towards her. “Move,” he growled, using his heel to knock the bike’s kickstand up.

Y/N’s brow furrowed, his intent becomingly startling clear. “No.”

He was caught off guard by her protest, though snapped out of it just as soon — his scowl deepened, his eyes darkening, seeing nothing but redness and fury and Merle’s reanimated corpse flickering through his mind. “Move, damn it,” he snarled once more.

But Y/N stood her ground regardless of the wariness in her gaze. “No.”

The archer’s rage churned inside him, his grip white-knuckled around the throttle. “Ya —”

“Please, don’t do this,” she interrupted his brusque retort, shaking her head. “I promise — I promise — he’ll get what’s coming to him, but Daryl…this is not the way.”

He knew deep down she was right, but he didn’t want to hear it — he didn’t want to hear ration or reason or the pity in her voice.

He didn’t want to hear any of it.

“I’m sorry,” she suddenly whispered, emotion clouding her eyes. “God, I’m so sorry about Merle. I’m —”

Something inside the archer snapped. “Ya know what, ya can drop the damn act,” he hissed, springing off the bike and shoving it to the ground with a deafening crash. He ignored the way Y/N flinched as he barreled towards her like a surging storm. “Ya can stop pretendin’ like anyone in this fuckin’ place gave a single shit ‘bout my brother!” he fired back, his voice rising. “Or me, for that matter!”

Y/N recoiled away from him, eyes wide. “I’m —” she started, shrinking under his heated approach. “I didn’t —”

“Forget it,” the archer spat, unable to stop the fervor spewing out of him. “Ya don’t know shit.”

A beat of silence passed as they stared one another down — but the more the quiet stretched on, the more a different emotion began to seep through the archer.

Guilt.

Unable to watch the hurt settling across Y/N’s features, Daryl turned away, allowing his brewing vehemence to carry him across the courtyard and to the doors leading into cellblock C. He paused at the doorway, unable to stop himself from looking back.

He watched Y/N’s head lower, her shoulders drop, before she slowly reached down, grabbing his toppled motorcycle by the handlebars and propping it upright.

The archer swallowed his remorse, buried his instincts, and stalked inside.

Daryl hissed a breath as the burnt end of the cigarette singed his fingertip. He stubbed the flame out against the heel of his boot, flicking the butt away into the grass.

Still, to this day, he felt bad about losing his temper. The anger had clearly been misdirected, but in the moment, he hadn’t been able to get a handle on it — Y/N had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Despite the aftermath of his outburst weighing heavily on him, he’d kept his distance from her throughout the days that followed.

Old habits die hard.

Daryl woke with a start, his eyes snapping open, chasing away lingering images of the nightmare he’d found himself immersed in.

Sleep had never been kind to him, even before everything went to shit — tonight was no different.

He could still see flashes of redness and death, smell the scent of rotting corpses and bloodshed, hear the sounds of tormented screams and anguished whimpers —

Daryl’s thoughts faltered as he quickly pushed up onto his elbows, straining his ears.

He realized then that the whimpering wasn’t coming from just his imagination. No, it was real — and it was coming from somewhere inside the cellblock.

The archer sprang up, untangling himself from the bed sheet coiled at his feet before shuffling towards the doorway. He paused there, his senses on high alert, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as he listened carefully.

When another soft cry sounded, he moved from the entryway, slowly slinking past cell after cell and following the noise.

It wasn’t long before he found himself standing outside Y/N’s cell.

Daryl peered into the shadowed room, just barely able to make out the shape of her beneath the covers. She murmured something jumbled and incoherent, her words muffled as though her face was pressed into the pillow. She tossed and turned for a moment before finally settling.

When she remained still, the archer nearly left for his own cell.

But then he heard a quietly gasped sob and began moving forward before he could think twice.

Daryl crouched down beside Y/N’s bedside, turning on the lantern she’d left sitting on the floor. He shielded his eyes from the light until they adjusted before focusing on her.

She was curled up, covers drawn to her chin, faint tear tracks marking the sides of her face. Her brow was knitted, causing lines to form across her forehead — he fought back the urge to reach out and smooth them away.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one sleep was unkind to.

Another soft whimper blew past her lips and Daryl reached for her, gently shaking her shoulder.

Y/N immediately jolted awake, shooting upright, disoriented and alarmed as her bleary eyes darted around the cell.

“Hey, hey,” Daryl quickly rasped, holding his hands out in front of him. “It’s alright.”

“What — what happened?” she croaked, her voice thick with sleep, her wide gaze finally settling on him.

The archer shook his head, pulling back slightly, second-guessing his decision to wake her. “Nothin’ — nothin’, alright? We’re okay.”

“What —” she sounded, a bewildered look flitting across her face as she settled her hand against her undoubtedly racing heart. “Are you okay?”

Daryl’s brow furrowed at her question, confused as to why that would be her next question and not ‘what the fuck are you doing in my cell?’ Regardless, he nodded once. “Yeah,” the archer brushed off her concern, sitting back on his haunches. “Ya — uh, ya were cryin’,” he revealed hesitantly, scratching the back of his neck as he watched for her reaction.

Y/N straightened, the top bunk just grazing the crown of her head as she dabbed her fingertip at the corner of her eye, appearing almost embarrassed suddenly. “Oh,” she whispered, wiping away the tears that’d formed.

Daryl gnawed on the inside of his cheek. “Ya alright?” he rasped after a long moment.

She quickly nodded her head, waving off his worry. “Oh, no — yeah, no, I’m fine,” she replied flippantly, shooting the archer a tight-lipped smile.

Despite Daryl seeing right through her bullshit, he didn’t push.

Instead, he nodded once and clambered back to his feet.

But he’d just barely turned to leave when Y/N spoke up once more. “Hey, Daryl?”

The archer faltered, glancing back at her. “Yeah?”

Her demeanor appeared collected, though he could see her hands twisting nervously around the sheet splayed out across his lap. “I —” she paused, seemingly working up the nerve to say what was next. “Are we okay?”

Daryl felt his chest tighten, the heaviness that’d grown between them splintering in that moment. There was something about her words, the smallness in her voice, that had him kicking himself for being so damn stubborn, for not making things right sooner.

She raked a hand through her tousled hair. “I just — I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have — I mean, I wasn’t trying to —”

“Stop,” Daryl cut off her rambling, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I was actin’ like an asshole,” he grumbled admittedly, the shame he’d buried creeping back in.

The tension in Y/N’s features softened as she regarded him. “It’s okay.”

For some reason, her easy forgiveness made Daryl’s insides churn.

“Nah, it ain’t,” he shot back sharply, almost wishing she’d curse him out instead. “Wasn’t right ta’ take that shit out on ya.”

“You were grieving,” she justified, her explanation simple and understanding.

Daryl worked his jaw, clenching and unclenching as he stared at the far wall of her cell, his gaze darkening — he didn’t deserve her compassion. “Well, ya probably stopped me from doin’ somethin’ real stupid,” he muttered dryly.

She merely shrugged, still completely unfazed. “Grief makes us do stupid things,” she murmured, defending him yet again. “I am sorry about your brother, you know,” she whispered a moment later, the sincerity in her voice knocking down the wall Daryl had worked so hard to keep between them.

He nodded slowly, clearing his throat before speaking again. “Merle was no hero,” he finally rumbled. “But he died tryin’ ta’ make shit right,” he mustered, his eyes finding hers amidst the shadows of her cell.

Y/N shot him a small, somewhat sad smile. “Then he didn’t die for nothing.”

Daryl swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, feeling as though his heart was moments away from bursting out of his chest. It was as though the cell was shrinking around him, the walls closing in — and the only thing keeping him above the surface was her.

“Get some sleep,” he managed gruffly, turning to leave once more.

“Daryl?”

The archer stilled. “Hm?” he sounded, not trusting his voice.

“Can you stay?” she whispered, so softly he almost missed it entirely. “Just a little longer?”

Daryl shifted his weight back and forth, feeling the overwhelming urge to run, to retreat to his own cell and pretend he hadn’t heard her.

But the slight tremble in her voice, something others surely would’ve missed, pulled him right back in.

The air thickened as he walked towards her, every fiber of his being screaming at him to make a run for it while he still had the chance. Y/N watched him approach, slightly wide-eyed, his steps faltering the closer he neared. She maneuvered slightly on the bed, moving towards the wall as though making room for him beside her.

Instead, Daryl did the most rational thing he could think of — he grabbed the empty mattress on the top bunk, slid it off the frame, and dropped it onto the floor next to her.

Y/N’s brow furrowed. “Oh, you don’t have to —”

“G’night,” Daryl interjected abruptly, avoiding her gaze as he quickly turned off the lantern and laid down. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and squeezed his eyes shut, his face surely on fire.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Daryl peeked an eye open, certain she could hear his thrumming pulse from where she sat. But a moment later, the bed creaked as she settled back down against the rickety mattress.

He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

The archer wasn’t sure how much time passed before Y/N’s breathing evened out, the stranger from the woods all those days ago finally falling into a deep and restful sleep.

He, on the other hand, remained awake until morning came.

She’d asked him to stay and that was exactly what he was going to do.

Not even sleep could take him from her.

Everything changed after that night.

After the people from Woodbury moved into the prison, the demand for supplies nearly tripled. The archer found himself going on runs more often than not, hunting for game or scavenging local businesses — but the days and nights he was home were spent with her.

They fell into a routine of sorts. The days were spent working the fence or tending to things around the prison — but most nights, they’d sneak away from the others and spend hours sitting atop one of the unused watchtowers.

It became ‘their spot’, as Y/N had put it.

Some nights they sat quietly, existing in comfortable silence, watching the vast night sky. Other nights, Daryl would learn things about her — those were his favorite nights.

Y/N would talk about anything and everything — the mundane stuff, the deep stuff, the things in between — while Daryl would rest his head against the watchtower and close his eyes, listening to the way her voice rose and fell. She’d tell stories of her life before the end and her hopes for the future as though there still was one.

And over time, despite the world decaying at its very core, even Daryl started to believe that maybe, just maybe, there could be one.

She became his solace.

Hell, maybe she always had been, but he’d been too damn stupid to realize it.

“I’m sick of hearing myself talk,” Y/N suddenly spoke, a soft laugh following.

Daryl’s eyes snapped open as he glanced over at her, his brow furrowing.

She shifted from where she sat, the side of her face illuminated by moonlight. “Tell me something about you,” she said sweetly, her knee brushing against his as she rested one shoulder against the watchtower, giving him her full attention.

The archer felt his face warm under her curiosity. “Ya know plenty,” he grunted — and it was the truth. He’d told her more about himself than anyone else in his entire life.

“Oh, come on,” she countered and though Daryl couldn’t see it, he sensed an eye roll. “Just one thing? Something I don’t already know and then I’ll leave you alone.”

He huffed a breath. “Fine,” he grumbled, giving in.

Y/N waited patiently as the archer fell into thought, racking his brain for something to share — something even worth sharing. The silence that dredged on wasn’t helping either — if anything, it only added to the pressure. His life wasn’t all that interesting, never had been, never would be.

Daryl snuck a glance at Y/N — well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

“Uh,” he rumbled, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t know. Guess I always wanted a dog?” he mustered, the confession coming off more so a question than an actual statement.

Still, Y/N’s face broke out into one of her million-dollar smiles. “I can totally see you with a dog,” she beamed. “You never had one?”

Daryl almost shook his head, but then a faint memory came to mind. He looked away, propping his elbows against his knees and focusing straight ahead.

“When, uh —” he cleared his throat uncomfortably, picking absently at the skin beside his thumbnail. “When I was a kid, I was walkin’ home from school. Found this stray covered in mud, damn near skin an’ bones. An’ so I took it home,” he pressed his lips together before snorting a breath. “Even tied my shoelace ‘round its neck like a leash.”

“Aw,” Y/N sounded softly.

“Mhm,” the archer mumbled, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

After a stretch of silence lingered, she spoke up once more. “But you didn’t keep it?”

Daryl began picking at his skin a little more aggressively. “My old man — he was on a bender. Started screamin’ an’ hollerin’ when he saw me ‘cause he ‘didn’t wanna take care a’ no mangy mutt’,” he bit out, echoing his father’s words from all those years ago. “He threw somethin’ — don’t remember what. Maybe an empty whiskey bottle. Poor dog was scared outta its mind,” he murmured, shaking his head. “It pissed on the floor, right in front a’ him.”

Y/N’s expression turned troubled, her lips forming into a small frown.

Daryl ignored the tightness growing in his throat. “So he tossed the dog in his truck, drove off, an’ that was that — I never saw it again,” he finished, wincing as he ripped a small piece of skin off his thumb, drawing a drop of blood.

“What’d your dad do?” Y/N asked, her voice small.

The archer wiped the blood off onto his jeans. “Don’t know,” he shrugged, glancing over at her. “He never said an’ I never asked.”

She held his gaze for a long moment before letting out a soft sigh.

Daryl turned his head, staring out over the railing and into the darkened forest. He’d never told anyone that story — not even Merle, who’d been doing another stint in juvie at the time. The truth was, he carried a lot of guilt from that day. Sure, he was only a kid, but he was the one who’d brought the stray home in the first place.

Whatever happened to that dog…well, that was on him.

“Hey,” Y/N murmured, gently poking the side of his arm, drawing him back to her. “Maybe we’ll find you a dog of your own someday.”

Daryl quirked a brow, unconvinced.

“You never know,” she shrugged. “What would you name it?”

He scoffed softly in response, shaking his head.

“Come on,” she reached over and poked him once more. “Humor me.”

“How ‘bout this,” the archer relented. “If — an’ that’s a big-ass if — we ever find a dog someday, ya get ta' name it.”

Y/N’s face immediately lit up. “Me?”

“Mhm,” he nodded his head, feeling the corners of his lips twitch.

She exhaled a breath, her gaze widening. “This…this is a shit-ton of pressure, Dixon,” she whispered, the wheels in her mind, very obviously, turning.

Despite everything, a soft laugh rumbled from deep inside Daryl’s chest, the sound strange and unfamiliar. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d genuinely laughed — the noise got stuck in his throat, like his body was physically rejecting the sensation.

When he noticed Y/N watching him, a cheeky grin plastered across her face, his skin flushed.

“Okay, okay, let me think…” she grew serious, closing her eyes and resting her chin against her clasped hands. Not even a second later, her eyes shot open. “Got it!”

Daryl motioned for her to continue. “Lemme hear it.”

“Alright,” she shifted, facing him head-on. “Dog.”

The archer’s brow knitted together, his gaze narrowing. “Dog?”

“Dog,” she nodded resolutely.

“Ya — ya wanna name the dog ‘Dog’?” he questioned dubiously.

“Yup,” she grinned, popping the ‘p’.

Daryl rolled his eyes, fighting back a smirk. “Ya got a couple a’ screws loose, ya know that?” he teased, tapping the side of his head.

“Shut up,” Y/N laughed softly, nudging him with her elbow.

A beat of quiet passed between them before Daryl cleared his throat. “We ought'a head back,” he grumbled, starting to stand.

But then Y/N reached out, grabbing onto his hand. “Hang on,” she objected, looking up at him. “Just a few more minutes?” she asked, gently tugging his arm down.

The skin on his hand tingled beneath her touch as her gaze, warm like honey, melted further into his.

Before he could think twice, he found himself settling back down beside her, his hand still intertwined around hers.

Besides, when had he ever been able to say ‘no’ to her?

Daryl could’ve sworn those nights up in the watchtower were the best nights of his life.

Then the prison fell.

And destroyed everything good along with it.

“Do you miss her?”

Daryl’s eyes snapped open, just then noticing the quiet that’d settled over the funeral home. He glanced over at Beth, who remained seated in front of the piano, her kind gaze watching him curiously.

Settling further inside the casket he laid in, the archer turned to stare up at the ceiling, folding one arm behind his head, the other laid out across his stomach. He ignored Beth’s question — not because it wasn’t true, but because he knew if he spoke, if he started talking about her, the hollowness inside his chest would swallow him whole.

“I think she’s still out there,” Beth assured him quietly, steadfast in hanging onto whatever hope she could muster. “I think they all are.”

Daryl grunted softly in response, not trusting his voice.

He wanted to believe that — he wanted nothing more than to believe that Y/N and the others were out there somewhere, somewhere safe. But he wasn’t a foolish man — and he just couldn’t bring himself to feign the kind of certainty that came so effortlessly to Beth.

“‘And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith’,” she suddenly murmured, her eyes glowing against the candlelight, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. “Daddy used ta’ quote scripture — that was one of his favorites,” she explained, her voice growing thick at the mention of her father. She pulled herself together before continuing. “I have faith,” her words were resolute, as though not only trying to convince him but herself as well.

The archer huffed a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “Got enough for the both a’ us?” he muttered dryly, quirking a brow.

Beth laughed, breaking the heaviness that’d spread. “Sure do,” she beamed before shooting him a meaningful look. “You can thank me later.”

With that, she swiveled around on the bench and faced the piano once more, her fingers dancing along the keys, filling the room with a gentle melody.

Daryl wasn’t a religious man — never had been, never would be.

He didn’t buy into all that bullshit. If there was a God out there…what the fuck was he doing? Where was he? Why didn’t he stop the world from ending? Why did he let the bad destroy the good, time and time again?

He just couldn’t put his faith into something so cruel, so merciless.

Daryl wasn’t a religious man.

But for the first time in his entire life, he closed his eyes and prayed.

The archer felt his throat constrict.

He tilted his head back, looking up at the darkened sky. The sun had melted into the Earth, in its place thousands upon thousands of littered stars, surrounding a glowing crescent-shaped moon.

Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe there was a God out there — some higher power or greater being — who’d been listening that night in the funeral home.

Because somehow, someway, despite all the odds stacked against him…he’d found her.

Daryl felt his lip split beneath another vicious punch, his head snapping to the side.

He was losing strength, his bruised body slowly giving out on him as two of the Claimers continued to relentlessly beat him. It seemed like no matter how hard he fought back, he just couldn’t get the upper hand.

He was outnumbered and unarmed, but as long as their attention remained on him, he wouldn’t back down — because once they were done with him, they’d move on to the others.

They’d move on to her.

Daryl caught Y/N’s horrified gaze from the other side of the road — she was knelt in front of Tony, who had a fistful of her hair in his grip, simultaneously holding Michonne at gunpoint. Y/N was struggling against his hold, attempting to break free, her features twisted in pain.

A low growl rumbled from deep inside the archer, a red-hot rage coursing through his veins as he fought even harder against the two men.

He managed to dodge another punch, but in the process, connected with a swift jab to the ribcage. He exhaled sharply, losing his breath as the two closed in on him once more — though as the archer braced himself for the next strike, he noticed that the men had suddenly frozen in place.

Daryl followed their stares, finally understanding what had caused the abrupt standstill.

Rick was staggering away from the leader of the Claimers, red staining the bottom half of his face — the archer didn’t even realize it was blood until he saw Joe. The man swayed unsteadily on his feet, eyes wide, mouth agape, as his hands reached for where his throat should’ve been.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Michonne grabbed Tony’s gun and turned it on himself, shooting him once. Daryl followed suit, landing a solid hook against the side of Billy’s face. He heard another gunshot ring out but was too focused on the man at his feet to notice. Without any hesitation, the archer stomped the heel of his boot into the man’s skull, killing him instantly.

He backed away from Billy’s crushed form, stumbling over Harvey’s body, a bullet hole now between his lifeless eyes. He spun around, steadying himself against the hood of the car in front of him as he worked to control his heaving breaths. He’d turned just in time to see Rick mercilessly stabbing Dan, over and over again until the man’s center was nothing but a mess of blood and guts.

And then he saw her.

She was still on her knees, though now hunched over beside Tony, staring silently at his unmoving figure.

Daryl pushed away from the truck and rounded the hood, his heart leaping into his throat as he made a beeline towards her. His footsteps faltered the closer he neared, the sight before him suddenly registering — Tony had been shot through the neck by Michonne, but the front of his skull had also been caved in.

His gaze flickered towards Y/N, just then noticing the blood-soaked boulder clasped tightly in her hand.

It took every ounce of strength to not rush forward, to not pull her into his arms and hold her close because damn it, she was alive, she was okay, she was here.

The archer stepped over Tony’s body, slowly crouching down in front of Y/N — when his approach didn’t stir her, a jolt of unease shot through him. Her vacant eyes were trained on the dead man, her features expressionless and ashen. There was a cut just above her eyebrow, a small trail of blood trickling down the side of her face, but other than that, she appeared relatively unharmed.

Daryl gently took her hand in his and carefully unclasped her fingers from around the rock. He tossed the boulder aside before settling down, kneeling opposite her, his deep blue eyes maintaining a watchful look.

The archer brushed his thumb over the back of her limp hand, squeezing softly a moment later.

And then, almost hesitantly, she squeezed back.

Daryl held his breath as her eyes found his, welling with unshed tears, the helplessness in her haunted gaze twisting his insides. “I never killed someone before,” she whispered suddenly, choking on her words as though speaking shards of glass.

He wasn’t used to seeing her this way — she’d always been so steady, a light others were drawn towards, that he’d been drawn towards. And now…well, now he wished the Claimers would come alive so he could rip them apart all over again.

Unable to stand the sight of her broken expression any longer, Daryl reached for her. “C’mere,” he rasped, slipping his hand behind the back of her head and pulling her forward.

Y/N’s features crumpled as she fell against his chest, a hitched sob catching in her throat. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, gripping onto the front of his vest as though he was the only thing keeping her afloat.

He wrapped his other arm securely around her back, keeping her cradled against his body. “S’ alright,” the archer rumbled as she held on tighter to him, her frame trembling as she cried. “I got ya, Y/N, I got ya.”

Daryl wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, woven around one another, his pounding heart echoing hers.

But he didn’t mind — because he’d found her.

And nothing else seemed to matter much with her engulfed in his arms.

The weeks that’d followed nearly destroyed them all.

With unrelenting heat, dwindling supplies, and the hollowness of loss inside each of them, morale had been at an all-time low. The little amount of food they’d managed to scrounge up had been divvied into morsels — though not enough to soothe their aches of hunger. The water supply eventually depleted, leaving their throats raw and mouths like cotton as they walked — day after day, down winding road after winding road, searching for salvation that was nowhere to find.

The line that’d separated them from the dead had become alarmingly thin.

And it’d only been a matter of time before that line disappeared altogether.

Daryl roused from his sleep, somehow feeling even more exhausted than when he first closed his eyes.

He scrubbed at his face, wiping away the thin sheen of sweat that’d formed before huffing a breath. The sign of first morning light seeped through the canopy of trees above him, visible through the motionless overgrowth of leaves and greenery. The heat was already suffocating — his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his skin, his throat desperate for water he couldn’t afford to drink.

But focusing on that, focusing on the discomfort, was much easier than acknowledging the looming darkness that lingered.

The archer pushed up onto his elbows, the forest floor digging into his skin. He scanned the makeshift camp his group had set up, positioned just off the main road. Almost everyone was still asleep, curled up on the harsh wooded ground within the permitter they’d barricaded.

Except for Y/N who was nowhere to be seen.

Daryl felt his stomach lurch as he pulled himself off the ground and staggered to his feet, ignoring the wave of dizziness he felt — it’d been days since he’d eaten, since any of them had eaten. He grabbed his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder, tiptoeing around the others as to not wake them — they deserved a few more minutes in a reality that wasn’t as fucked as this one.

The only other person awake was Glenn, who’d volunteered to be on watch. He sat with his back against a large tree trunk, Maggie at his side, her head resting against his shoulder.

Daryl headed towards them, drawing Glenn’s attention. But before he could say anything, Glenn nodded his head towards something on the main road, careful not to jostle Maggie awake.

The archer followed his gaze, spotting Y/N through the trees. He nodded once in silent ‘thanks’, feeling the pit in his stomach loosen as he marched out of the woods and crossed over the asphalt.

Y/N was sitting on the hood of a long-since abandoned car, her feet perched atop the dented front bumper. Her eyes flashed towards him as he approached, prominent dark circles beneath a weary gaze, so unlike the warmth he was used to seeing.

Daryl felt his throat constrict — he could handle his own demons, the heaviness that’d latched onto his bones after the last few weeks.

But hers?

She needed to be okay — he needed her to be okay.

He slid onto the hood, the car dipping below his weight as he settled beside her. A comfortable silence stretched on as they stared down the long and desolate road ahead, each lost in their own thoughts.

“I miss ‘our spot’,” Y/N suddenly murmured, her tone wistful.

Daryl grunted softly in response, the nights they’d spent up in the watchtower flashing through his mind.

He missed it too — he hadn’t known peace like that before.

“God, we had it so good back then,” she exhaled a breath, lowering her head.

The archer peeked over at her, hearing the hint of emotion growing in her words, the sadness she tried to conceal. But she couldn’t hide it — not from him.

He could tell how she was feeling by the steadiness of her breath.

“We still had Hershel…” she whispered, clasping her hands together, her knuckles turning white. “Bob…Tyreese…” her voice cracked slightly before she glanced up. “Beth.”

It was Daryl’s turn to look away.

He couldn’t think about her — not without smelling moonshine and ash, not without feeling the weight of her lifeless body in his arms.

He never got to thank her.

When the prison fell, Daryl had been certain he’d never see Y/N again — that somehow, someway, she’d burned along with it. But Beth…she’d known — she’d known he’d find her again one day.

And he never got to thank her.

“I know you’re in pain,” Y/N’s voice broke through his guilt-ridden thoughts, drawing him back to her. “And I know how easy it is to just shove it down and push it away and pretend like it doesn’t exist,” she looked over at him then, her gaze steady and knowing — and despite the scrutiny, he couldn’t find it in himself to look away. “And I’m not asking you to talk about it. But please, just — just don’t pretend like it’s not there.”

Daryl gnawed on the inside of his cheek, his teeth breaking skin and filling his senses with the metallic taste of blood.

When Y/N reached towards him, he stiffened.

She slowly brushed away the hair that fell in front of his eyes, smoothing the strands back out of his face. “You’re not carved out of stone, Daryl,” she murmured gently before resting her palm against his flushed cheek.

The air suddenly thickened, the archer becoming painfully aware of how little space remained between them. There was a pull — almost magnetic — that urged him to lean closer, to draw nearer, to take her in his arms and shut out the rest of the world.

But before he could give into instinct, he pulled away and hopped off the hood of the car, landing on his feet with a huff.

Daryl looked anywhere but at her, ignoring the slight tremble in his fingertips. “M’ gonna —” he quickly cleared the thickness in his throat. “M’ gonna take a look ‘round — see what I can see.”

Y/N was quiet, though the archer didn’t dare look at her. “Okay,” she finally sounded — and even though Daryl couldn’t see her expression, he could hear the tangible defeat in her tone.

He clenched his jaw, kicking himself for being the source of her disappointment as he beelined towards the woods on the other side of the road, opposite the campsite.

But he’d only taken a couple of steps when he faltered, realizing then that he couldn’t just walk away — he’d never been able to just walk away.

Not from her.

“I hear ya,” he rasped, glancing back at her, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could stop them. “Ya know, what ya were sayin’ before an’ — an’ all that. I jus’ — I hear ya,” he mustered, the jumbled explanation all he could offer.

A tired smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. “I know,” she assured him softly.

Daryl held her gaze before nodding once, turning without another word, and disappearing into the trees.

A newfound determination coursed through the archer as he ventured further into the woods — there had to be something else out there, somewhere his people could call ‘home’. They couldn’t keep going on like this, fighting day-to-day just to survive — it couldn’t be them and the dead anymore.

There had to be something else, something more.

The world couldn’t be all bad.

Not the same world that’d given him her.

Daryl pulled his gaze away from the darkened sky.

His eyes trailed over the towering gates that surrounded Alexandria — sturdy iron sheets and impenetrable steel, the only thing keeping away the dead that roamed just outside them. He brushed his fingers over the ground, tugging at the overgrown blades of grass beneath where he sat as he fell back in thought.

Despite his initial doubt that Alexandria was all it promised to be, in time, the community had proven him wrong. Sure, there were fractures in its foundation, but it was better than nothing.

It was better than before.

And for the first time since the end of everything, there was hope for a future.

Smoke spilled past the archer’s lips, wafting in front of him before disappearing into the night air.

The streets of Alexandria were still — a welcomed change in comparison to life outside the walls. Daryl shifted on the porch steps, taking another drag from his cigarette as he rested his back against the railing. He tilted his head backward, blowing out a lungful of smoke, feeling his nerves calm in the process.

“Hey, stranger,” a voice suddenly called, breaking the quiet that’d stretched on.

Daryl knew that voice — knew it better than the back of his own damn hand.

He quickly shook away the hair that’d fallen in front of his eyes, watching as Y/N approached.

She looked different — her hair was washed, her clothes no longer blood-stained and tattered. The lines of worry that’d marred her features were smoothed away, replaced by a warm smile that only grew the closer she neared. It was strange — almost like getting a glimpse of her before the dead started walking.

Her footsteps slowed as she stopped in front of him, her head cocking slightly to the side. “What’s that look for?”

Daryl ducked his head down, his face feeling fuzzy — like a kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Nothin’,” he shook his head, inhaling another drag from his cigarette before stubbing the flame out against the porch steps.

Y/N plopped down beside him, propping her back up against the railing opposite his. “So,” she started, turning her attention towards him. “Deanna was asking where you were tonight.”

The archer scoffed as he flicked the cigarette butt away. “Aaron’s,” he rasped, pulling one knee to his chest, resting his elbow on top of it.

Y/N appeared surprised at his response but didn’t push further. Instead, she exhaled heavily. “This place is like the fucking Twilight Zone.”

He huffed a breath, nodding in agreement. “Ya headin’ back over there?” he rumbled after a moment, jerking his head in the direction of the welcome party.

“Oh, no,” she quickly shook her head. “I’m sick of people,” she admitted before glancing over at him. “You don’t count.”

Daryl snorted a laugh, rolling his eyes despite the strange sort of pride her words brought him.

A beat of silence passed before Y/N spoke again. “Aaron seems like a good guy.”

The archer grunted softly in response, their conversation from earlier coming to mind. “He wants me ta’ start scoutin’ with him — findin’ other survivors, bringin’ ‘em back.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Mhm,” Daryl sounded, nestling the side of his thumb between his teeth.

“Is that something you’d wanna do?” she asked, leaning forward a fraction.

He paused, taking a minute to consider her words. If he was being honest, he felt more comfortable outside Alexandria’s walls than inside — and having a good enough reason to be back on the road didn’t seem like such a bad thing. But if he was being really honest…

Daryl’s gaze met Y/N’s once more — he hadn’t been away from her since the prison fell.

That wasn’t exactly a time in his life he’d like to revisit.

“I do alright out there, I guess,” he shrugged a shoulder up, dropping his hand back into his lap.

A look of amusement flashed over her features in response. “That’s quite the understatement.”

The corner of his mouth quirked, but he couldn’t seem to ease the sudden worry gnawing at him. “Ya gonna be alright in here?” he rasped, steadying her with a serious look.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” she countered smoothly — but Daryl could hear the hint of something in her tone, something he couldn’t quite place. When he remained silent, Y/N’s expression turned reflective. “I think it’ll be a good thing — you could help a lot of people out there who need it.”

The archer picked up on her deflection. “That ain’t what m’ askin’,” he retorted, calling her bluff.

Y/N looked as though she wanted to argue — but then her lips pressed together, forming a thin line. “I don’t know,” she finally said, avoiding his gaze. “I just — I don’t like being away from you, that’s all,” she admitted quietly, wringing her clasped hands together.

He stilled, never having been more grateful for nightfall — otherwise, she surely would’ve seen the sudden redness creeping over his cheeks.

“But, like I said,” she continued, exhaling a slightly awkward laugh. “It’ll be a good thing.”

He nodded once. “Mhm,” he sounded, not trusting his voice.

Her eyes softened before she began pulling herself up off the porch steps. “Well, I’m gonna get some sleep — see you in the morning?”

The archer cleared his throat. “I’ll see ya,” he rumbled.

A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips as she headed up the steps, gently squeezing his shoulder as she passed.

He didn’t move a muscle, listening intently for the sound of the front door shutting before closing his eyes, ignoring the tingling sensation beneath where she’d touched him.

Daryl huffed a defeated breath. “Shit.”

Had he given into instinct that night, he would’ve told her the truth.

He would’ve told her that he felt the same way, that being away from her felt like losing half of himself, that nothing in his life had ever made sense until he met her. The words had toyed at the tip of his tongue, desperate to be heard after being swallowed time and time again — but he just hadn’t been able to do it.

He could almost hear Merle’s snide voice in the back of his head — taunting him, calling him ‘whipped’ and a ‘pussy’ and a ‘good-for-nothin’ redneck’, mocking him for even considering that someone like her could feel anything for someone like him.

So instead, he’d reverted back to what he knew best — shutting down and pushing away.

It wasn’t intentional, merely second nature after years and years of repetition.

But the wall he’d worked so hard to build stood no chance.

Not against her.

Daryl knew something was wrong the moment he crossed back through Alexandria’s gates.

And then the screaming started.

He took off into a sprint, his heart mimicking the echo of his footsteps pounding against the asphalt. He could hear Aaron and Morgan just behind, right on his heels, their heavy breathing mirroring his own as the sounds of anguish grew louder.

The archer felt his stomach drop the closer he neared, his mind repeating one, single phrase over and over again —

Just let her be okay.

When he and Aaron had gotten trapped in that car earlier, surrounded by walkers, he’d thought that was it for him. He was going to lead the dead away and give Aaron enough time to make it out, to make it back to Alexandria where he could continue doing what he did best — bringing salvation to those who needed it.

He’d made peace with his decision.

And as he’d grabbed the door handle, moments away from pushing into the raging swarm, he’d only been thinking one thing —

Just let her be okay.

For some reason, he’d been given a second chance and all he wanted was to see her again. It was nearly overwhelming, setting his nerves ablaze, sending his heart racing — it consumed him entirely, the thought of her.

He’d realized then what he should’ve known all along.

He’d never felt for anyone the way he felt for her.

Daryl finally found the others, all gathered in the center of town — but he barely had time to register what was happening when a single gunshot rang out.

Aaron and Morgan stood frozen beside him as they took in the scene — Rick had a gun in hand, the barrel pointed towards the ground, directly above Pete’s now-shattered skull. The crowd looked on in horror, huddled together near a dimly lit fire, eyes wide, mouths agape. Then he saw Reg — his throat sliced open, his body splayed out across Deanna’s lap, Michonne’s bloody katana lying beside him.

“Rick?” Morgan suddenly spoke, breaking the deafening silence that’d followed.

The sound drew Rick’s attention, his vacant eyes finding Morgan’s — but Daryl’s gaze drifted, meeting hers instead.

His stomach dropped when he saw her — she had one hand pressed against her cheek, blood trickling out from between her fingers, her face frozen in disbelief.

Daryl moved towards her, the rest of the world fading away.

Just let her be okay.

Y/N’s expression shifted as he neared, the apprehension that’d marred her features melting, turning into relief despite her ashen complexion and the chaos surrounding them. She absently shook her head back and forth, opening her mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out.

The archer came to a stop in front of her, his own voice lost somewhere deep inside his chest. So instead, he reached for her, very carefully, as though she’d been spun from glass. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and gently pulled her hand away from her face, revealing a gash that stretched across the entirety of her cheek.

The swell of rage that coursed through him felt red-hot, flushing his skin as he stared at the wound, his eyes glinting dangerously by the light of the fire.

“She caught the nasty end of Petey-boy’s backswing,” came Abraham’s gruff voice.

Daryl hadn’t even realized the man approached — he was too busy thinking up new ways to bring Pete back to life, all so he could shoot the dead prick dead all over again.

Abraham crouched down a few inches beside him, taking a closer look at Y/N’s injury before whistling softly. “Ya must be ridin’ the gravy train with biscuit wheels, lil’ lady. That sack a’ shit damn near took your eye out,” he drawled before glancing over at Daryl. “Don’t think she needs stitches — unless someone wants ta’ reincarnate Dr. Dickwad for a second opinion.”

Y/N attempted to huff a laugh, but the motion had her wincing, her features twisting in pain.

And Daryl had seen enough.

He grunted a gruff ‘I got it’, giving Abraham a nod of appreciation before taking Y/N by the elbow and maneuvering her away from the others, back onto the street.

She allowed him to guide her elsewhere, neither saying a single word.

The two houses Deanna had provided to the group had been split amongst the lot of them. Daryl chose to reside in the finished basement — it was small and dingy, but he didn’t mind. The room had a couch and a bathroom and was much nicer than any other place he’d ever stayed at — even before the end of times.

And right now, it was serving as a makeshift infirmary.

Y/N sat perched on the edge of the couch, her knee bouncing anxiously as she watched Daryl barrel around the space like a rampant tornado. He grabbed whatever he could think of — the first aid kit stored beneath the bathroom sink, a bottle of water, a clean t-shirt to swap out for her blood-spattered one — before making his way back to her. He set the items down on the coffee table in front of the couch and took a seat on the edge of it, opposite her.

Still, neither spoke.

Daryl kept his eyes focused on the slash mark — that was much easier than acknowledging the absence of space between them. He unscrewed the cap to the water bottle, emptying a small amount onto a dry piece of gauze before leaning forward. Ever so slowly, he dabbed at the blood that’d dripped down her face and onto her neck, ignoring the near-palpable tension.

Y/N sat still as a statue, tilting her head back slightly as he wiped away the redness. But when he moved further up, nearing the wound, she flinched, hissing reflexively. Daryl snatched his hand back as if slapped, his eyes meeting hers, quietly apologetic.

She nodded for him to continue, taking a deep breath and balling her hands into fists atop her thighs.

The archer worked his jaw, lightening his touch.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that — all he knew was that when he was with her, nothing else really seemed to matter.

Luckily, the wound wasn’t as severe as it’d initially appeared — it was fairly shallow, faint towards the edges, and in time would heal completely. He wanted to tell her so, but the words wouldn’t formulate — the silence that’d stretched on felt untouchable.

So instead, Daryl focused on her hands, wiping away the blood that’d stained the grooves of her skin — and although she tried to conceal it, he could feel the slight tremble in her fingertips.

After he was done cleaning her hands, he sat back, his knee brushing against hers. He glanced up, flicking his hair away and studying the cut on her face — it’d stopped bleeding, though the edges were an angry-red, spiking his own temper once more. The collar of her shirt was soaked crimson, the color more muted in areas that’d already dried.

He hadn’t noticed the way their hands remained intertwined until Y/N squeezed softly, snapping him back to reality.

Daryl pulled his hand from hers and stood, grabbing the extra t-shirt off the table and dropping it into her lap. He scooped up the first aid kit before spinning around and stalking back towards the bathroom, giving her privacy as she began to change.

The archer avoided his reflection entirely, certain he’d see nothing but flushed skin and remorseful eyes. He squatted down, yanking open the drawer beneath the sink and tossing the kit inside. He gnashed his teeth together and grabbed onto the counter, his grip white-knuckled around the edge.

He needed to get a fucking hold of himself, that was for damn sure.

After regaining his composure, Daryl slammed the drawer shut with more force than necessary and pulled himself up in one swift motion.

But his entire body froze, his blood running ice-cold, when he noticed Y/N in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, standing in the doorway behind him.

Their eyes met through the glass before the archer twisted around, facing her head-on.

Her brow was furrowed as she stared at him, her head tilting to the side, the wheels in her mind visibly turning though her expression remained unreadable. She looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t quite know how to say it. She inhaled a breath, opening her mouth, but quickly snapped it shut — and then something different flickered across her features, an expression he hadn’t seen before.

Daryl waited for her to speak, to finally break the prolonged quietness that’d carried on.

But then she was suddenly crossing towards him.

He didn’t realize what was happening until Y/N’s lips crashed against his.

It was as though a dam had broken open — every fleeting feeling, every moment of suppressed longing coming to a head after dancing around one another for so long. At first, Daryl’s entire body went numb, his brain scrambling to figure out just what in the hell was actually happening. His breath caught in his throat as he stiffened instinctually, years of touch deprivation and self-consciousness clawing their way to the surface, leaving him paralyzed against her.

But when Y/N pulled back, breaking away from the kiss, he found himself craving her in the spaces she’d filled.

Her eyes were wide, boring into his, her gaze a mixture of shock and awe that he was certain mirrored his own — like even she couldn’t believe what she’d just done. She clung onto the collar of his shirt, the material balled in her fists.

Daryl’s chest heaved beneath her touch, his breathing syncing up with hers as they stared at one another, their noses only a few inches apart, each soaking the other in for what felt like the first time.

Something inside the archer fractured, right then and there. The wall he’d created inside his mind, the one designed to keep everyone at arm’s length, began to crumble. His guard fell to pieces, brick by brick, shattering at the very foundation he’d built it on.

And in its place…her.

Without any hesitation, Daryl slipped a hand behind Y/N’s neck and surged forward, closing the gap between them and bringing his lips to hers once more.

A soft gasp escaped her at first — one of surprise — the feel of it against his mouth sending a tingle down his spine before she returned the kiss with equal fervor. Her hands slid down his chest, snaking around his middle as she pressed herself against him with similar desperation.

He slid his hand up the back of her head, holding her in place as their lips parted, exploring each other with a deeper intensity. His fingers tangled throughout her hair, desperate to feel her in all of the ways he’d denied himself of, his other hand rising to gently cup the side of her face.

But when Y/N inhaled sharply, suddenly jerking back a fraction, Daryl’s eyes snapped open.

“Ow, fuck,” she hissed, her expression pinched.

“Shit,” the archer rasped, realizing then that his hand had brushed up against the cut on her cheek. “Ya alright?” he rumbled, pulling back further to get a better look.

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, her face lighting up in a way he’d never seen before. “Yeah,” she whispered hoarsely, her cheeks tinged pink, her lips red and slightly swollen.

Once again, Daryl found himself fighting to catch his breath.

He swallowed the thickness in his throat, carefully reaching forward and picking at a strand of hair that’d been swept out of place, tucking it behind her ear instead.

Y/N leaned into his palm, laying her hands against his chest, staring at him like she thought he’d hung the moon and painted the stars.

The look shifted into something deeper as she stepped back, ghosting her fingertips down each of his arms, his skin catching fire beneath her touch. She intertwined her hands around his calloused ones and began inching backward, slowly leading him out of the bathroom without another word.

The archer felt something stir deep inside him, a warmth settling in the pit of his stomach as she guided him towards the couch. He was entranced — like a man who’d been lost at sea for far too long, finally catching a glimpse of salvation from a lighthouse, beckoning him home.

And for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t afraid.

Daryl flushed at the memory.

She still had that same damn effect on him. It didn’t matter how much time passed, how many years went by, he’d never tire of her. She was, without a doubt, the best thing that ever happened to him.

He’d always felt out of place — even before the end. It was like everybody who’d ever lived was somehow born knowing the same song and dance — and yet there he’d been, stumbling along, fighting to catch up and fall in step with the rest of the world. It’d isolated him, made him feel weak and undeserving — like no matter how hard he tried, he’d never truly belong.

And now?

The only comfortable place his mind seemed to know was her.

Daryl fought back a wince, his entire body tensing up.

“Almost done,” Denise murmured as she continued stitching up the laceration on his back.

“Ya said that an hour ago,” the archer grumbled in response, grinding his teeth together.

“It definitely wasn’t an hour and you’re the one who refused the numbing cream, remember?” she countered evenly, her tone unwavering.

The archer merely huffed in response, fighting back a scowl as he gripped tightly onto the edge of the metal table he sat on top of. He ignored the feeling of Denise’s needle digging into his skin, closing up the knife wound he’d received back on the road, surveying the quieted house-turned-infirmary instead.

Rick was in the next room over, not having moved from Carl’s bedside since the survivors had taken Alexandria back from the dead. Glenn and Maggie were huddled together on the cot across the room while Michonne rocked Judith back and forth, exiting the infirmary with her a moment later. The others were gathered outside, recuperating after the long and harrowing fight that’d taken place mere hours ago.

And then there was Y/N — she sat on the floor beside his dangling legs, her head resting against the side of his knee, his vest laid out across her curled form. He could tell by her steady breathing and the way her head lolled every so often that she’d fallen asleep against him.

The entire community was running on little to no sleep, having fought through the night, taking on the herd that’d invaded their home — now, hundreds of bodies littered the streets, the wall that’d collapsed needed to be rebuilt, and those they’d lost during the attack needed to be buried.

Daryl glanced down when he heard a soft sigh, feeling his chest constrict as Y/N nestled closer.

She hadn’t strayed far since he’d returned and honestly, he wasn’t quite ready to be away from her either — especially after what happened on the road. Over the two days he was gone, he’d nearly lost his life on more than one occasion — and from what he'd heard, she’d nearly lost hers when the Wolves attacked.

But they were okay — she was okay — and that was what mattered.

Michonne reentered the infirmary a moment later, the exhaustion on her face mirroring his own. Judith, on the other hand, had fallen asleep in her arms, curled up against her chest, dark blonde wisps of hair sticking to her forehead.

“How’re you holding up?” Michonne asked softly as she approached the table, not wanting to wake Judith — or Y/N, for that matter.

“Jus’ a scratch, is all,” Daryl rumbled in response, peeking over his shoulder at Denise who remained focused on the wound.

Michonne nodded, rubbing small circles against Judith’s back. “I sent everyone home — Rosita and Heath are keeping watch where the wall came down. We’ll clear the dead once everyone gets some rest.”

“Alright,” Daryl rasped, a bone-deep tiredness beginning to seep in.

Before leaving, Michonne paused, looking down at Y/N’s sleeping form. When she glanced back up, her expression had shifted into something softer, something less tense. “She’s good for you,” she suddenly murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You deserve that,” she whispered, reaching out and squeezing his hand, still latched around the edge of the table.

Daryl’s hand flexed beneath hers as he glanced down at the top of Y/N’s head — did he really deserve someone like her?

He’d spend the rest of his life wondering that.

Michonne patted the top of his hand before pulling away, disappearing into Carl’s room without another word, Judith still fast asleep against her.

“Alrighty,” Denise exhaled, drawing him back to the present. “You, my friend, are free to go.”

The archer grunted a gruff ‘thanks’ as she began cleaning up the supplies she’d used to stitch him up. He bit back a grimace as he pulled his shirt over his head, feeling the stitches stretch as he moved.

He reached forward then, gently ruffling the top of Y/N’s head, stirring her awake. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes before craning her neck and looking up, her bleary gaze meeting his. “All done?” she murmured, her voice slightly croaky.

“Mhm,” he sounded, sliding off the table and offering his hand to her.

The corner of her mouth quirked up as she grabbed it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She swayed, fighting back a yawn, Daryl’s hand finding the small of her back and steadying her. Wordlessly, she held out his vest, which he slowly slipped back on, grinding his teeth together as a sharp jolt of pain shot across his shoulder.

Y/N’s brow furrowed as she watched him, her eyes narrowing — but before she could comment, Denise approached once more.

“Change the gauze in a couple of hours and take two of these for the pain,” she informed, holding out a small bundle of supplies, including fresh bandages and pills. “Doctor’s orders."

But Daryl waved her off. “Save ‘em,” he grumbled, carefully adjusting his vest.

He saw Y/N throw him a glance from the corner of his eye, though she didn’t protest — instead, she stepped forward and held her hand out.

Denise passed the supplies to her before lifting her glasses and rubbing one eye with the back of her hand, her fingertips stained red with blood. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything strenuous for a few days or he’ll tear the stitches,” she continued, speaking solely to Y/N as she set her glasses back in place.

Daryl huffed a breath. “M’ standin’ right here, ya know.”

Y/N nudged him in the ribcage, giving him a look that clearly translated to ‘be nice’.

Denise directed her attention back to the archer. “Don’t tear my stitches,” she reiterated emphatically before her expression eased. “Rest, relax, sleep — both of you.” She shot Y/N a pointed look before shooing them towards the front door, heading over to check in with Glenn and Maggie.

Y/N glanced over at Daryl once they were alone, her eyebrow quirking playfully. “I like this new side of Denise.”

The arched scoffed in response, flicking the hair from his face. “I liked it better when she was scared a’ me,” he grumbled as they fell in step, making their way out of the infirmary and back outside.

A laugh slipped past Y/N’s lips as they crossed over the porch. “Sounds about right,” she grinned, thoroughly amused.

“S’ true,” he shrugged his uninjured shoulder up as they made their way down the stairs and back onto the street.

“You know, you really aren’t that sc—”

Y/N stopped mid-sentence, her footsteps halting abruptly. Daryl faltered as well, glancing back at her, his brow knitting together. Before he could ask what was wrong, he realized what she was looking at.

In the light of day, the aftermath of the attack was startling. There were more bodies than he could count, rotted and decaying, bones torn through skin, blood spilling out onto the street, stark against the asphalt. The carnage was overwhelming, the reality of what they’d accomplished, as well as what they’d almost lost, suddenly settling in.

“We’ll fix this place up — make sure nothin’ like this ever happens again,” Daryl rasped, not entirely certain if he was trying to reassure her or himself.

Y/N’s expression turned solemn. “It’s not the dead I worry about,” she fixed him with a stare, her gaze flickering towards the wound on his back before she continued surveying the damage done to their community.

There wasn’t anything he could say that would make her feel better — not in a world as dark and void and meaningless as the one they lived in.

The only thing he could do was just be there.

Daryl reached for her, slipping his hand around hers and squeezing softly, drawing her back to him.

Although Y/N kept her eyes forward, he felt the tension leave her.

And then she squeezed back.

The archer huffed a breath, nestling the side of his thumb between his teeth.

Well, maybe the world wasn’t entirely meaningless.

Daryl stood still beneath the shower head, warm water washing over his body.

But he couldn’t focus on that — all he could focus on was Y/N, standing behind him, her arms wrapped around his middle, her bare chest pressed against his back. He closed his eyes, committing the feeling to memory — her heart steadily pounding against him, her cheek resting against his shoulder as water continued to cascade down their bodies.

She pulled back slightly, gently pressing her lips against one of the scars on his back.

Daryl felt a chill run down his spine despite the steam around him, fighting back the instinctual urge to stiffen — and as she moved to the next scar and the next, softly kissing each one, he couldn’t help but melt beneath her touch.

He turned then, feeling the tips of his ear redden at the sight of her before he quickly averted his gaze.

Y/N laughed, soft and sweet, reaching towards him and brushing the hair from his face.

Daryl caught her hand with his own, pressing her palm flat against the curve of his jaw. The cut on her cheek had healed, leaving only a faint, thin line below her eye. His own knife wound was still fresh, but in time, would heal as well.

He brought his hand up and gently brushed his thumb across the length of the mark before tilting her head back, bringing his lips to hers.

He wasn’t sure where the sudden boldness came from — still, Y/N returned the kiss, her arms snaking around his neck, his around her waist.

It wasn’t until the water began to run cold that Daryl, begrudgingly, turned the shower off.

They moved about in comfortable silence — drying off, changing into clean clothes, completing eerily normal and mundane tasks that had the archer wondering if he’d somehow transported into an alternate reality without realizing it.

But the blood and muck that’d washed off their bodies and collected at the bottom of the tub reminded him otherwise.

It’d taken three whole days to clear Alexandria of all the walkers that’d infiltrated their walls. Now, they could start rebuilding, reinforcing, doing whatever they needed to do to make sure an attack like that never happened again.

Daryl climbed into the bed he shared with Y/N, having moved up from the basement and into her room after that first night they’d spent together. He winced as he rotated his shoulder — despite Denise’s instructions to limit arduous activity, he’d worked the past three days from sun up to sun down in removing all the bodies from within the gates.

Y/N had tried to get him to take it easy, but he hadn’t — that just wasn’t in his nature.

She crawled into bed after him, sighing softly as she settled by his side, sitting with her legs crossed beneath her. She held her hand out towards him and in her palm, two pills — he recognized them as the ones Denise had given her.

Daryl huffed a breath.

“Don’t make me say ‘please’,” she warned, raising her brow expectantly.

The archer fought back the urge to roll his eyes but took the pills anyway, popping them into his mouth and washing them down with the bottle of water he’d left by the bedside. Y/N shot him a cheeky grin as she laid down, curling onto her side, facing away from him.

He reached over, wrapping an arm around her middle and dragging her towards him, eliciting a surprised laugh from her. She nestled closer, her back pressed against his chest, one hand clasped around his forearm, drawing absent circles against his skin with her thumb.

Daryl felt himself fading, slipping into unconsciousness after a long, tiring day of survival.

But just before the world darkened entirely, a whisper broke through the quiet.

“I love you.”

The archer’s eyes snapped open. Part of him wondered if Y/N was sleep-talking. An even bigger part of him figured he’d imagined it because there was no way — no way in hell — she could’ve consciously and deliberately said that to him.

But then she was shifting, rolling onto her back and looking up at him.

He searched her gaze for something, anything — a punchline, an explanation, a ‘hah, fooled ya!’ — that would explain what in the fuck he’d just heard.

Except that didn’t happen.

Instead, Y/N slowly nodded, like she was finally coming to terms with her own blatantly impromptu confession. “Yeah, I-I do — I —” she fumbled slightly in her admittance before steadying. “I love you,” she murmured, blinking up at him.

Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat, his mind screaming at him to say something instead of just staring at her like he’d seen a ghost. He could feel the words toying at the tip of his tongue — he wanted to say it, he did, because…well, of course. Of course, he wanted to. But it was like his body was physically rejecting a response.

Y/N patiently watched him struggle, giving him a second to get his shit together, a small, knowing smile playing at her lips.

The archer pushed up onto his elbow, clearing his throat, his cheeks burning red. “I, uh,” he grumbled, shaking his head slightly. “Y-Yeah, I —” he faltered, clearly struggling. But when his baffled gaze met her kind one, almost instantly, his wall of insecurity diminished. “Yeah,” the single word came out resolute and sure, everything he needed her to hear.

Y/N’s smile grew, stretching across her face, bright enough to light the sky on fire. “Yeah?” she asked softly, reading between the lines.

Daryl nodded once. “Yeah,” he rasped thickly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world — because it was.

He’d felt that way since the day he met her, even if he hadn’t known it.

She reached up, twisting her fingers in his hair and bringing his face down to meet hers, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips.

Then she was curling onto her other side so they laid chest to chest, her head tucked beneath his chin as she snuggled closer, his arms wrapping around her instinctually.

Daryl wasn’t sure how long they laid like that, limbs weaved around one another like coiled rope. But when her breathing evened out, he pulled back and snuck a glance, tracing every inch of her face as though the first time and the last. He brought his hand to her face, carefully brushing back the hair that’d swept over her features before leaning in and pressing a kiss against her forehead.

Then sleep came for him as well.

Daryl dropped his hand back into his lap, drawing his legs to his chest.

Being with Y/N was effortless — as easy as breathing. It came, somewhat alarmingly, natural to him. He’d never pictured himself with anyone ever. Before the end, before her, he’d been content to sit on the sidelines and watch all the relationships around him undoubtedly burn — it was all he’d ever known, it was all he’d ever seen.

But then she came along and flipped his entire world upside down.

A love that came without warning.

“Let’s get this shit loaded up — looks like it’s gonna rain soon,” Daryl rumbled, peering up at the darkening sky, noticing a cluster of bulbous clouds rolling in.

Y/N tilted her head back, following his gaze before humming a breath. “I don’t know — the wind’s blowing East. It might just miss us,” she remarked, catching the archer’s eye, a mischievous look flashing across her features. “Wanna make a bet?”

Daryl scoffed a breath in response, shutting the car trunk filled with scavenged supplies and adjusting the strap of the rifle slung across his chest — he was still getting used to the weapon. It felt unfamiliar in comparison to the weight of his crossbow. The reminder of his stolen weapon sent a flush of anger through his veins. He’d find those assholes someday and get it back, that was for damn sure.

“Come on,” Y/N grinned, drawing him back as she hefted another box over to him, dropping it onto the ground with a huff. “How about this? If it rains…I’ll take your watch shift tonight with Elizabeth.”

The archer quirked a brow, suddenly intrigued. Elizabeth was one of the original members of Alexandria — and she was…chatty. “Fine,” he nodded, opening the car door and lobbing the box she’d brought over onto the backseat. “She’s always yappin’ ‘bout books an’ shit I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout. Damn irritatin’ sometimes,” he grumbled.

Y/N laughed at his aggravation, turning to pick up another box. “I like her,” she shrugged, making her way towards him.

Daryl huffed a breath, waving her off. “Alright an’ if it doesn’t rain? What’d ya want?” he questioned, taking the box from her hands and sliding it into the car.

Before she had the chance to respond, Rick suddenly appeared, pushing through the front doors of the high school they’d been scavenging — it’d been turned into a FEMA evacuation center right at the beginning of the end. It’d somehow, miraculously, been left untouched — the doors and windows had been barred and chained, but luckily they’d had the tools needed to break in.

It’d been a little over a month since Alexandria had been overrun with the dead — the wall had been rebuilt and fortified, but the survivors had been hesitant to venture outside the gates after what happened the last time. Regardless, supplies were dwindling and a run had to be made.

“How’s it comin’ along out here?” Rick called as he jogged down the front steps and into the parking lot.

“Filled up the trunk pretty good — gonna need another car or two jus’ ta’ fit the rest a’ this shit,” Daryl remarked as the sheriff approached, motioning to the rest of the unpacked boxes lying around.

Rick came to a stop in front of them, one hand resting on top of the handle of his pistol strapped around his waist. “This is good — this is real good,” a rare smile spread across his face, so unlike the usual tension in his features.

“Tara’s finishing up around back — she’s grabbing the rest of the stuff from the greenhouse,” Y/N relayed to Rick, sharing a hopeful look with the archer. “We’ve got enough stuff to last us, I don’t know, at least another couple of months — that’ll be enough time to get some crops growing, maybe even a garden or two.”

Rick huffed a laugh in disbelief, shaking his head. “Who would’a thought,” he mused to himself before taking a breath. “Alright, I’m gonna grab a few last things inside an’ then we’ll lock up — come back tomorrow with a couple a’ cars an’ clean this place out.”

The sheriff left without another word, leaving Daryl and Y/N alone once again.

He began rearranging the boxes in the backseat, making sure there was enough room for two people to sit there on the way back home.

“A date,” Y/N suddenly spoke, catching him off guard.

Daryl straightened, turning back around to look at her, his brow knitting together. “Huh?”

The corner of Y/N’s mouth quirked up as she took a step towards him. “If I win, if it doesn’t rain today…I want you to take me on a date.”

The archer tilted his head to the side, trying to distinguish if she was joking or not. “Ya serious?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, a sort of awkward laugh slipping past her lips. “I know it’s stupid — and given the way you’re looking at me right now, I know you’re thinking the same thing,” she laughed again as he quickly erased the skepticism from his expression. “But that’s —” she shrugged a shoulder up, “— that’s what I want.”

Daryl scratched the side of his head, flicking the hair from his face as he studied her, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the car. “That really what ya want?”

“Mhm,” she sounded. “And it doesn’t have to be anything special — just us and, I don’t know…maybe Aaron can whip up some of his famous spaghetti,” a soft smile grew on her face as she looked at him. “I, uh — I just — I want to do this right, you know?” her expression turned earnest. “I want those moments with you, Daryl.”

The archer felt a swell of warmth spread throughout him as he looked at her, feeling his resolve give way. “Alright,” he managed to rasp, his throat tight with emotion.

“Alright,” Y/N reiterated with a nod, sticking her hand out, a playful look in her eye.

Daryl snorted a laugh as he reached out and grasped her hand with his own, shaking once to seal the deal.

Y/N shot him a cheeky grin as she pulled from his grip. “We should —”

“Guys?” Tara’s voice suddenly sounded, drawing their attention.

Daryl knew as he pushed off the car, as he turned around that something was very wrong — he could hear it in her tone.

It took a moment for him to fully register the scene before him — a wide-eyed Tara just a few feet away, standing straight as an arrow, holding her hands up near her head.

Then he spotted a man.

The stranger stood just behind Tara, one arm wrapped around her neck, the other holding a gun, the barrel pressed against her temple. He was young, maybe early twenties, though it was hard to tell with all of the blood coating his skin. He peered over Tara’s shoulder, his frantic gaze bouncing wildly back and forth between the archer and Y/N.

Daryl’s protective instinct kicked in as he took a step forward, drawing the man’s attention, keeping Y/N out of his line of fire. His hand automatically reached for the rifle strapped around him but his movements stilled when the man’s eyes widened, his arm tightening around Tara’s neck.

“Hey, take it easy,” Daryl held out his hands in front of him.

“Move,” the man growled, jerking his head to the side. “Away from the car.”

Daryl felt Y/N grab a fistful of material from his shirt, slowly pulling him back as the man moved towards them, keeping Tara in front of him to conceal his body.

A tense standoff of sorts stretched on as they maneuvered around, the man never taking his eyes off of Daryl. When the stranger made it to the driver’s side of the car, he unwound his arm from around Tara’s neck, using it to open the door instead — though his finger remained twitching above the trigger. Once the door was opened, he faltered, realizing he’d lose the coverage of Tara’s body if he tried to get inside.

“Take it,” Y/N suddenly spoke, stepping out from behind Daryl with her hands near her head, drawing the man’s attention.

The archer shot her a sharp glance. “Y/N —”

“Take the car, take the supplies, take whatever you need,” she continued calmly, ignoring Daryl’s growled protest. “Just let her go, okay? No one’s here to hurt you.”

The stranger’s expression shifted, the animalistic look on his face shifting into something that resembled more of a quiet desperation than anything else. “I —“ he shook his head quickly, shifting back and forth. “I just need — I just need to go — I need to go.”

Y/N took another step forward, the side of her arm brushing against Daryl’s. “Okay,” she nodded, exhaling a breath. “That’s okay — just let our friend go and —”

Her sentence was interrupted by the front door of the school swinging open.

Daryl whipped his head around, feeling his stomach drop when he spotted Rick walking out with a stack of boxes — but when the sheriff noticed the standoff happening just down the steps, the boxes came crashing down, falling out of his hands, and instead…he grabbed his pistol.

It was as though everything happened in slow motion.

The stranger’s expression twisted as his sights set in on Rick — he swung the barrel of his gun away from Tara, who instantly dropped to the ground as the man pointed the weapon up the steps, and then…

A barrage of gunfire sounded as Rick and the man began shooting at one another in rapid succession. The sheriff used the front door as a shield, attempting to fire from around the frame, the awkward angle throwing off his aim. The stranger, on the other hand, fired away in no particular direction — his aim was erratic and panicked as he tried using the car door as coverage.

When a bullet flew past the side of Daryl’s head, he dove towards Y/N. He knocked her off her feet and onto the pavement, attempting to take cover from the shootout. The archer flipped onto his back, fumbling for his rifle before finally getting a grip and pointing it at the man.

But before he could take a shot, the stranger threw himself into the car, slamming the door shut, bullets from Rick’s pistol embedding into the metal. He peeled recklessly out of the parking lot, still firing from out of the opened window as he made his getaway.

Despite one of the back tires exploding after getting hit with a stray bullet, the stranger kept driving, disappearing onto the main road and out of sight, leaving a wake of destruction in his path.

“What the fuck?” Tara called from where she’d taken cover.

“Is everybody alright?” Rick yelled back, coming out from behind the door and running down the steps.

Daryl twisted onto his side, looking over at Y/N. “Hey, ya alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” she murmured shakily, pushing up onto her hands and knees. “I’m okay.”

The archer let out a sigh of relief, climbing to his feet and surveying the damage done around them as Rick appeared at his side.

“What an asshole,” Tara swore, coming to a stand as her eyes bounced between Rick, Daryl, and Y/N. “Seriously, what kind of —”

Daryl looked over at her, waiting to hear the rest — but that was when he noticed her staring at something just behind him, the horrified expression on her face filling him with a vast and all-consuming sense of dread.

The archer spun around.

And that was when he saw her.

Y/N stood a few feet away, swaying unsteadily, her hand pressed tightly against the center of her stomach. Her head was lowered, bowed to her chest as she slowly pulled her trembling hand away, revealing a stark redness pooling from her midsection, staining the front of her shirt. She looked up then, her eyes meeting his, the shock in her gaze surely mirroring his own.

“No,” Daryl whispered, the word sounding strangled in his throat as Y/N’s knees suddenly began to give out. “No!” he roared, rushing forward and grabbing onto her before she could collapse.

His arms slipped around her middle before he carefully lowered her onto the ground, her head drooping down against his shoulder. His heart pounded so violently against his ribcage, part of him wondered if it was giving out on him entirely — maybe it was. Maybe this was what dying felt like. Maybe this was what it felt like to have your soul ripped straight out of your body.

Daryl cradled the back of Y/N’s head with one hand as he laid her down flat against the pavement, her eyes wide and unseeing, staring straight up at the sky. “Hey, hey, look a’ me, jus’ look a’ me,” he urged, brushing the hair back from her face, ignoring the blood now staining his hands — her blood.

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay,” she mumbled, repeating it over and over again as though she could will it to be true — though her skin grew more ashen with each minute that slipped by.

Rick suddenly kneeled on the opposite side of Y/N, taking a piece of cloth and holding it against the wound. “Keep pressure on it,” he instructed Daryl and although he tried to conceal it, the archer could hear the way his voice wavered. “You jus’ hold on, Y/N, understand? We’re gonna get you outta here,” he promised, reaching down and squeezing one of her hands before disappearing.

Daryl watched him leave, dragging a teary-eyed, slack-jawed Tara along with him as they began frantically searching the abandoned parking lot for any working vehicles — it was their only chance at getting her back to Alexandria.

And if they didn’t…

No.

No, he couldn’t go there.

Instead, he pressed the cloth against the gunshot wound, attempting to stall the blood flow, the pressure eliciting a pained whimper from Y/N that almost made the contents of his stomach reappear. “I got ya, Y/N, I got ya,” he rasped, grabbing her limp hand with his own and intertwining their fingers, holding his other hand firmly against her stomach.

His words seemed to bring her back to him, her hollow gaze shifting into one of panic — like she only just realized what was happening. Her features crumpled, a flash of fear skirting across her face as the shock began to wear off. “Am — am I dying?” she managed to choke out, her eyes filling with unshed tears as she looked up at him.

“No,” he shook his head resolutely, feeling moisture build in the corners of his own eyes. “No, ya ain’t goin’ nowhere, ya hear me?” his grip tightened around her hand — like his touch alone could keep her there with him. “We’re gonna get ya back ta’ Alexandria an’ — an’ get ya patched up, good as new, alright? Ya jus’ gotta hang on for me, girl.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered as a tear snaked down the side of her face. “I-I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered, a sob hitching in her throat.

“Hey, it’s gonna — ya gonna — jus’ — Rick!” Daryl suddenly bellowed, sitting back on his haunches and desperately scanning the area for any sign of him or Tara. He spotted them at the opposite end of the parking lot, running from car to car, searching for keys or at least a way to jumpstart one of the abandoned vehicles.

But luck was not seeming to be on their side.

Daryl let out a vicious string of curses before focusing back on Y/N. He’d never felt so helpless in his entire life — and God, if he could, he’d take her place in a second.

She was fading — fading so rapidly it made him dizzy. Her skin was cold to the touch, her lips tinged a disturbing shade of blue, her eyes lacking the warmth he was so used to seeing. He felt a swell of emotion rise in his throat, threatening to consume him, but he shoved it down.

“Hey, y-you were right,” she murmured weakly, the corner of her mouth twitching up as she tilted her head to look up at the sky once more. “I think it’s gonna rain.”

Daryl felt a tear spill down his cheek as he followed her eye line, the previously blue sky now blanketed with thick, dark clouds. He huffed a humorless laugh, their conversation from a few minutes earlier ringing through his mind, somehow seeming like an entire lifetime ago. “Guess that means ya — ya gotta take watch tonight, right?” he rasped despondently, keeping his gaze towards the sky.

He stilled when he was met with nothing but a deafening silence.

He felt his stomach roll as he squeezed his eyes shut, afraid of what he'd see if he looked down. “Y/N?” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

When she didn’t respond, Daryl knew.

She was gone.

His girl was gone.

And his entire world came crashing down around him.

Daryl forced his eyes open.

His body went numb at the sight of her, his mind refusing to accept the image before him — empty eyes, grey flesh, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her hand slipped from his grasp then, dropping onto the pavement beside her unmoving form as she continued staring vacantly up at the sky.

His brain couldn’t process what was happening — where he was, what he was doing, why he was there. It felt like a nightmare — a reality that wasn’t quite reality, warped and desolate and consuming him whole. The only tangible thing he felt was a sharp, physical pain in the center of his chest, his breaths short and hitched, causing black spots to dance in his vision.

Over the blood rushing to his ears, he could just barely make out the sound of a car engine, the noise muted and dull as it approached…

But it was too late.

They were too late.

Daryl reached for her hesitantly, hands trembling as he wound his arms beneath her back and carefully scooped her up off the ground, falling back slightly as he pulled her body across his lap. When her head lolled listlessly to the side, he brought his hand up, brushing his bloodstained fingers through her hair before cradling the back of her head, pressing his cheek against hers.

“Ya said —” he squeezed his eyes shut, rocking back and forth as his grip around her lifeless body tightened. “Ya said ya were okay,” he choked out brokenly, his own shock slowly wearing off as something deep inside his soul fractured.

Then he broke.

And the sky opened up and wept alongside him.

The sound of barking drew Daryl back to reality.

He glanced over his shoulder, quickly blinking away the tears that’d formed, spotting Dog trotting towards him. The German Shepard’s tongue hung lazily out of his mouth, his easy pace picking up the closer he neared, letting out another short bark.

Daryl rumbled a laugh as Dog came to a halt at his side, plopping down next to him. “Hey, boy,” he rasped softly, scratching behind his dog’s ear and earning a sloppy lick in return He wiped away the moisture from his cheek as the canine laid down beside him with a huff. “Good, Dog.”

The archer ran his fingers through his sleek fur, feeling his throat tighten. When he’d found the German Shepard a few years back, he’d remembered the conversation with Y/N from back at the prison — and it’d only felt right to name him ‘Dog’.

It’s what she would’ve wanted — and somehow, it made him feel just a little bit closer to her.

“Man, she would’a loved ya,” he whispered thickly, sighing a long and heavy breath.

Daryl looked forward once more, studying the small gravestone in front of him — her gravestone.

For a long time, he stayed away. He hadn't been able to go near where she'd been laid to rest, he just couldn’t — it was too fucking painful, like part of himself had been buried right along with her. But over time, the grief became easier to manage — it never went away, it'd never go away — but he found a way to exist alongside it.

Now, he found a strange sort of peace here.

It’d been years since he’d lost her — she’d been gone for longer than he’d known her. It was hard to keep track of time these days, they seemed to come and go without rhyme or reason. So much had happened since that day — the war against the Saviors, the looming threat of the Whisperers, losing friends, family, Rick…

Time seemed to move differently after losing the people loved most.

After that day at the high school, Daryl had tried to find the man responsible for what happened to Y/N — he’d gone back to the high school, wild and unhinged in his grief, hellbent on retracing their steps and tracking down the stranger. He’d needed revenge, bloodshed, he’d needed the man to know what he’d done, who he’d taken from the world.

Despite the improbability, the archer had no trouble finding him.

The back tire that had been blown out during the exchange of gunfire had sent the car careening down an embankment and into a large tree less than a mile from the school. One of the branches had broken through the windshield and punctured the man’s chest, most likely killing him on impact.

He’d reanimated still strapped in the driver’s seat.

Daryl left him that way.

It wasn’t the ending he’d hoped for, but maybe it was the ending he deserved.

He reached down, absently stroking the top of Dog’s head, and inhaled a deep breath.

Not a single day went by without the thought of her.

She came and went — like a flash of light or the beat of a heart. Daryl had barely had any time to hold onto her before she was gone — and he would’ve held her so much tighter had he known it’d be the last chance he’d have.

Some people were just too bright to stay, too good for what the world had become — at least that’s what he told himself on the really dark days.

The archer closed his eyes, imagining her at his side — sometimes if he sat like that for long enough, he could almost hear her voice, her laugh, he could almost feel her warmth, her touch — and it was like she was still there, sitting right beside him.

It wasn’t the same, but it was enough — at least until he could be with her once more.

Daryl opened his eyes, peering up at the vast night sky, and released the breath he’d been holding.

Someday, he’d find his way home again.

Fin.

A/N: ...hi...how y'all doin'? lol

So yeah, this is a lot to unpack. If you've made it to the very end, THANK YOU! I know this was a super-dee-duper-long oneshot but hopefully (heartbreak and all) it was worth it.

Most of this story was purely self-indulgent - I mean, come on, who doesn't want this kind of love? But aside from that, I also wanted to write a relationship for Daryl that felt authentic and true to his character (*cough cough* definitely not throwing shade at 10.18...nope...not at all...lol)

What also made this story super fun was the fact that I was able to incorporate other characters from over the course of the series! (Even though he's only in it for .2 seconds, Abraham is probably my personal favorite lol I'd never written for him before, and damn, is it fun!)

I also like the little 'twist' at the end when we realize that in the present parts of the story, he's been hanging out at the reader's grave the entire time, reminiscing. Ow, that hurts my heart.

After writing this for months, I was the last person who wanted to see the story end like this. I honestly grew super attached to this relationship and part of me contemplated ending it on more of a 'happy' note...or as 'happy' as you can get with a show like this one. But this was the ending I'd envisioned from the beginning. We got to experience a Daryl x Reader relationship from the very start to the very end. No open-ended questions, no 'what ifs'.

And I think that's sorta beautiful.

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!

P.S.S. I can no longer tag people on this account, so my tag list has been transferred to my side blog @crossbowking2. If you'd like to be added/removed, please let me know!

[drakenology]

How about when your working as a hotel concierge and one of the famous pro heroes (can be anyone u like, maybe Bakugou? 😉) comes in for a relaxin vacation from doing so many hero work. He doesn’t know us, but he will. 🥴

you are a genius, muah!

thank you anon for inspiring this piece.

Room Service! - Bakugo Katsuki

warnings: smut! (minors gtfo), oral (male receiving & female receiving), mentions of cum, size kink, mirror sex (cause it slaps), just a raunchy hook up between two consenting adults (so pro hero katsukiii)

Tonight was making your job really fucking annoying. You sat at your desk answering phone calls about which pro hero would be staying at your hotel (the only bane of your existence).

Of course you can’t disclose that information because of privacy but you didn’t even know that yourself. You sigh as you hang up the phone on yet another greedy fangirl trying to get closer to whomever would be staying here.

You start to wonder who it might be; that 7 foot tall red head or maybe the sexy blonde who could make you blow whenever he wanted.

It was no secret you’d been a fan of Mr. Dynamight since his earlier days of hero work; your coworkers often caught you doodling your name and his last name on a piece of paper like a high school girl with a monster crush. Your mind wandered, thinking of what you’d do-what you’d say if Dynamight walked into your lobby right-

“Yo. I’ve got a reservation under Katsuki Bakugo.” A raspy voice rang in your ears to snap you out of your daydream, making you jump in surprise. Holy shit, it’s him! Fuck. Stay calm.

“Oh! U-uh.. Welcome Mr. Dynamigh- I mean Bakugo.” You stutter, palms clammy and shaking as you look his name up in the computer.

“You new or somethin’?” Bakugo asked, red eyes peering over the counter and straight down at your body.

Even though this isn’t his first time staying here for vacations he’s never seen a hot little thing like you working the desk. All dressed up in an orange button up blouse and a black pencil skirt he could just lift up and have his way with you in. Damn you look good in orange.

You notice his gaze and turn your attention back to the computer, internally screaming as you realize Katsuki Bakugo is fucking staring at you.

“No. Actually this is my third month here. I usually work mornings but we’re unfortunately incredibly shortstaffed tonight so.. here I am.” You nervously laugh, spelling his name wrong about fifty times out of anxiousness before finally finding his name and room number.

“Room 202, sir. Would you like for me to escort you?” You question, standing from your seat and stretching your limbs since you’ve been sitting in that damned chair all night.

Bakugo drank the shape of your body in, following your curves with his eyes and licking his lips enough for you to see.

“Nah, I got it. You just sit your pretty ass down. I might call you for somethin’ later.” Katsuki says with a wink, hauling his luggage in those big strong arms of his off to the elevator, fuck.

Is he being hot on purpose?

You’re left at your desk hot and bothered. You couldn’t help it but your mind was just filled with all the filthy things you’d do to Katsuki. Thank god no one else came through the lobby for most of the night because with the way you felt right now, how could a girl focus on anything?

Almost an hour goes by quickly, your daydreams and fantasies haulting when you hear the phone ring. Sigh. You reluctantly pick it up, rolling your eyes as you brace to hear yet another fan girl’s screaming.

“Hello, This is Y/N. How can I help you?” You say monotonously, looking down at your nails.

“Hey, sexy desk lady. This you?” The same raspy voice that ached your pussy sang to you.

“Th-this is she.” You gasp, so entranced that you actually answered to the nickname.

“What’s on the menu? I hope all meals include sexy concierges.” He says, his smirk audible. “‘M hungry.”

“Oh. Well we do have a steak dinner I could bring up to you. How does that sound?” You stutter, hardly able to seem professional with his blatant flirting.

“Perfect. Oh and tell your boss or whoever the fuck you answer to that your shift is over. I want you in my room.” Katsuki declared, confidence dripping over every word.

“B-But sir, I can’t just-“ You try to speak, interrupted.

“Customer’s always right.” He teased before hanging up, making sure you got the point.

You take in a breathe, taken aback by how swiftly he can turn you on just by speaking to you. You stand from your chair, almost falling back down from the shakiness of your legs. Fuck it if Bakugo wanted you so badly, here you come. Stumbling into the kitchen you put in Bakugo’s order and tell your manager that the Pro-Hero wants you to deliver his food and keep him company.

“Shit! Hopefully he leaves a good tip. He’s gonna put in such a good rating for us and....” She rambled, the rest of her quarrel falling on deaf ears. You were too busy creaming in your panties at the thought of Bakugo grabbing you by the fucking hair and just-

“Order up!” The chef yells snapping you out of your mindless filth. He’s wheeling over the room service cart for you to take upstairs and shouting something about giving it to him hot.

“Smile, Y/N. Make a good first impression.” Your manager said, leading you to the elevator with one hand on your back.

The ride up felt like the longest elevator ride in history. The walk down the hallway seemed even longer as you look for his room.

200...201....202.

You stand at his door, heart threatning to leap out of your chest as you knock softly.

“Who is it?” Katsuki shouted through the door and some loud rock music.

“Room Service!” You manage, hoping you hid your nervousness well. You hear the music die down and the lock of the door click unlocked.

As the door swung open your eyes beheld the image of Bakugo’s toned and muscular torso without a shirt. His sweatpants hung lazily on his hips, the waistband of his boxers showing proudly. As your eyes unknowingly travel further down you get an eyeful of what he’s packing. And baby it is heat.

His dick-print was so prominent it was almost astounding . Is this him soft? You quickly look back upwards at the tall God in front of you and look at his handsome face. Gruff and just manly looking. His hair was tossed all over his head, eyes low and intense as he smirked at you. How on earth can one man be this attractive?

“Ah. Right on time. Get yer ass in here.” Bakugo rasped, groaning at the sight of you. You push yourself and the cart inside, swallowing the lump in your throat. Bakugo walks in front of you and puts out the joint he smoked just fresh out of the shower.

The employee in you told you to scold him for smoking in the building. But for now, hell, let him do whatever he wants. You push the cart into the small living area of his suite, Bakugo sitting on the loveseat in front of you.

“Damn. You look good behind that cart, ya know that?” He says, looking you up and down with those plush lips between his teeth.

You feel your body get hot, not a single thought behind your eyes.

“I-I u-uhm.” You choke. Katsuki stands from the couch and walks towards you like a lion who had just cornered a gazelle. His hands pull you towards him, face so close to yours he could kiss you if he wanted.

“Speak up, sexy. It’s no fun if you don’t talk back. Don’t tell me you’re nervous.” He purred, leaning into your neck and leaving a chaste kiss.

Your eyes flutter, moaning softly as his kisses become deeper. The trail he left led all the way up to your ear, gasping as he nibbles lightly on your earlobe.

“I-I’m sorry. I am a little ner- ah- vous.” You mewl, feeling like you might drop to the floor as his hands snuck down from your waist and onto your ass.

“Mhm. Just relax. I don’t bite. Well, from the looks of it you like a little biting don’t you?” He teased, letting his hands do more talking for him.

His hands knead and caress your body as he leaned down to kiss you. It was the hottest kiss you’ve ever experienced; his big hands exploring your body while nibbling your bottom lip as he pulled away for air only to dive right back into your mouth. He picked you up and led you to the loveseat; hands planted what seemed like permanently into your ass as he sat you on his lap.

He starts undoing the buttons of your shirt, eventually getting annoyed with the stupid blouse and just ripping it open. You gasp as all the buttons pop and fall on the floor, your bra on full display for Katsuki as he hissed.

“Fuck. ‘So sexy.” He huffs, pulling your tits out of your bra and taking one into his mouth. You’re turning into jelly in his hands, mindlessly grinding your aching pussy against his groin and moaning into the room.

“Shit. You’re an eager one, aren’t you?” Katsuki rasped, pressing a thumb onto your covered clit for you to grind on. Your breathing hitched, knowing he can feel how wet you are through your panties as he took your nipple back into his mouth. Suddenly he stops, causing you to whine from the loss if his mouth.

“Wait, baby. I wanna see what that pretty mouth can do.” Katsuki lulled, pressing his fingers in your mouth while you happily suck on them. You climb off his lap and situate yourself on your knees in front of him, pulling his sweats and boxers down without a second thought.

Fuck was he big. He had girth and length with these sickeningly prominent veins, his pretty dick already deliciously leaking pre-cum. You try not to moan at the upward curve in it, imagining all the spots he can hit with it in just the right angle. And it was heavy too, the spring of his dick leaving his briefs causing it to smack right on his abs. You look up at Bakugo’s eyes who haven’t left you since you got on your knees.

“Go on, sexy. Show me what you got.” He coos, sighing as you take him into your wet mouth.

You tease him a little, swiping your tongue over the head to lick up some of that pre cum. You’re staring at him with hazy eyes, sticking your tongue out and sliding your mouth down until you’re taking him into your throat. Gagging and drooling you bob your head, slurping a bit as he grabbed your hair.

“S-Shiit, baby.” He moans, your drool dripping all over the place as he fucked your mouth with a fist full of your hair. As he’s pulling you up and down on his cock you hollow your cheeks in time with his movements, tears streaming down your face and smudging your mascara.

“You look so fucking hot with my dick in your mouth. Fuck.” He hissed, letting go of your hair to let you get up and breathe. You take his cock out of your mouth with a *pop* and stroke him, all your slobber being the perfect lube as you pump and twist up and down with your hand.

Bakugo leans into the loveseat, his head hanging back into the chair as he cussed. You were making him feel so good, shit you were pretty close to making him cum.

“Want me inside you, baby?” He managed, your mouth and hands taking his breath away. You pull away from his dick again, blinking away your tears.

“Uh-huh.” You nod, the fastest thing you could say. Before you know it you’re scooped up and flung onto the bed, your skirt and panties discarded somewhere.

You don’t even ask him to return the favor. To be honest you didn’t need him to. But the way his tongue flicked your clit around was enough to intoxicate anyone. You can’t help the loud moans you let out, legs trembling as he stuck his tongue inside you. He teased your folds with his tongue, sloppily making out with your pussy until you’re completely blank-headed.

“Look at me, baby.” He hummed, immediately wrapping his lips around your clit.

Your eyes roll back, trying hard to look at his face as he devoured you. His fierce eyes caught your hazy gaze, a fucked out expression written all over your face as he quite literally sucked your orgasm out of you. Katsuki’s lips left your pussy, his chin glistening in your slick with a shit eating grin on his face. Maybe he should stay here more often.

“Heh. First time in my life a woman’s left me speechless.” He says sitting up, his dick standing at attention right above your cunt. The bastard starts tapping his cock on your already sensitive clit with a devilish smirk, biting his lip at your reaction.

Every tap made your eyes cross, your puffy clit throbbing at the sensation. Your whines become desperate, causing Katsuki to crave the satisfaction of your begging. With a raised eyebrow he pushed himself only half way inside you, a sharp gasp ripping from your throat.

“You want it? Hm? I’m talkin’ to you.” Katsuki teased, raising your face to look at him by your chin.

God you looked so sexy like this; legs spread, thighs quivering from all the pleasure, a tantalizingly dumb look on your face.

“Y-yes.. Katsuki p-please.” You plead, mewling when he starts moving but way too slow for your liking.

“All of it, yeah?” He further questioned, really enjoying teasing you. The look on your face as he plunged deeper inside you just enough to stretch you was priceless, a little shriek escaping you.

“Yess, god yes.” You bellow, desperate for your itch to finally be scratched. With a dark chuckle Katsuki slams all of his length inside your gummy walls, your head thrown back into the pillows at the brute force. And that dull stretch felt so good, as if Katsuki’s dick was made to fuck you.

“So biig- ngh!” You struggle to say, covering your mouth as you notice you’re screaming for him. Bakugo takes your hand off your mouth and pinned it above your head, smirking down at the dazed face before him.

“I know, baby. So good for me. So fuckin’ tight.” Bakugo rambles, rutting his hips into yours as he lifts your thighs up and throws them over his broad shoulders.

The new position sent shockwaves through your whole body, your cries so audible you swore you heard them echo in his room. His pace was slow but deliberate, that fucking curve hitting that spot over and over again.

“Oh my god! Oh my godd!” You chant, your wet walls clenching down onto his cock threatening to cum all over him.

“Thats it, cum all over my fuckin’ cock.” Bakugo urged, taking one hand and rubbing insane circles into your throbbing clit his thrusts becoming more brutal as you feel him hit your cervix in the most pleasurable way.

You say something about cumming for him or something, the sentence scrambled as you boil over. Your face was too sinful for words to explain, tongue hanging out as you pant and fat tears bubbling in your eyes.

“I’m not finished. Turn around.” Katsuki demands, smacking your thigh to get you to muster whatever strength you have left to turn around.

Next thing you know you’re bent over, Bakugo plunging back inside as if he had already missed the feeling of your sweet walls. His dick was made for this position, the upward curve hitting that sweet spot perfectly.

“God, look at you..” Bakugo says, his gaze meeting the full length mirror in front of his bed. “So fucking sexy.” He muttered, pulling you by your hair to make you behold what he was looking at.

Your eyes meet the glass reflection of you being absolutely railed senselessly by a man you’d desired since you were a teenager. And it all felt so good. You watch his movements, every flex of his muscles, every heave of his chest as he panted. He was so gorgeous. Even when he was pounding your poor pussy into submission; all sweaty and sticky he was really something to marvel at.

“Fuuck you’re gonna make me cum. That’s it baby, just like that.” Bakugo moans, grabbing a fist full of your hair and smacking your ass all while locking eyes with the mirror and back down again to where you both connect.

You’re so fucked out you can hardly speak, chanting filthy words to coax him into cumming while throwing your ass back on him in time with his thrusts. He’s cussing up a storm, his pace speeding up as he hummed nasty words back at you.

“Want me to cum, baby? Yeah? Shiit, you’re pussy’s so fucking good.” He groans, snapping his hips into you and biting a little into your shoulder. Soon you’re cumming for him again; you don’t know how or when but a mixture of his disgusting words and that big fat cock sliding in and out of you just pushed you over the edge yet again.

“Fuck.” Bakugo hissed, pulling out of your gummy walls to cum all over your ass. He’s pumping himself for a while, staring down at your glazed ass and moaning at the sight.

Bakugo nearly shoves himself back inside you when he sees you reach back and swipe some onto your finger and taste his cum.

“Shit.” You both gasp, panting and sharing the same high as Bakugo jumps up to get a towel. You lay limp and damn near lifeless on the bed as he wipes your ass off, smacking it once it was clean.

���That was the best fucking room service I’ve ever ordered.”

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Almost (c.e.)

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word Count: ~5.9k

Summary: You and Chris were set up on a blind date by your mutual friends. Sparks flew, but you never heard from him again. Two years later, you come face-to-face with him once more for their friends wedding.

Warnings: Some angst, swearing, not much else

A/N: This is a mixture of the movie “Life as We Know It” (mmm Daddy Josh Duhamel 🤤), a dating experience I had, and one scene from One Tree Hill. Enjoy.

My Masterlist

                    Two years ago…

My heart is pounding all the way to my ears. My hands are shaking under the table. My knee bounces uncontrollably as I wait.

I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I let her convince me to do this?

“You haven’t had a boyfriend for as long as I’ve known you.” My best friend so pointedly mentioned when we were out to lunch last week.

 “What’s wrong with that?” I counter.

“I’ve known you for three and a half years.” She deadpans. Even without looking at her, I know she has her eyebrow raised at me and her lips are pursed.

“Your point?” I know she thinks my serious lack of companionship these past few years is wearing on me, but it’s been quite the opposite. Not being attached is freeing. I can do what I want when I want; I don’t have anyone to answer to. If I want to sleep until 3 on a Saturday, I’m going to do it. If I don’t want to socialize with anyone, I won’t. If I want to take a spontaneous road trip, I’m going to do it. My life is my own and that’s how I like it.

“I want my best friend to have someone to experience life with.”

My shoulders dropped, sighing in defeat. There was no way I was getting out of this conversation.

“I want you to be as happy as I am.” I see the love in her eyes as her mind goes to her boyfriend and their new relationship. They’ve only been together for a few months, but I know that this is it for her. She’s a smitten kitten and he is equally as infatuated with her. They’re sickeningly cute. “Which is why I think you need to meet one of his friends-”

“Lemme stop you right there,” I interrupt her, “I hate blind dates.”

“You’ve never been on one.”

“And there’s a reason for that.” She rolled her eyes at me. “They’re cliché, they’re awkward for both parties, and they never amount to anything, thus being a total waste of time.”

She sighed, “Ever the skeptic.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Regardless,” she continues, “I think you’ll really like this guy. He’s already expressed interest in you.”

Like that makes everything better. “Great so now I have to live up to his impossible expectations of me when I know absolutely nothing about him.” As if the idea of a blind date wasn’t bad enough, now it’s only a semi-blind date. There’s no doubt in my mind that she has hyped me up impossibly high, that’s what a best friend is for. However, when your confidence level is next to none and already skeptical of the pending meeting, there’s no way he’ll like who I am in reality.

“I can tell you anything you want to know about him.” She is bargaining with me. She really wants me to meet this guy. She wouldn’t be trying this hard if she didn’t believe we would hit it off.

“Well is he nice?” This was the only real question I had. If he isn’t kind then there’s really no future.

“Incredibly!” She continues to tell me of the many things he has done for a charity he started a few years ago and slowly but surely she was starting to convince me. If he was that generous then he has to have a good heart and therefore is a good man.

How bad could it be?

I check my phone, glancing at the time. Great, he’s late. That can’t be a good start.

Numerous reasons why popped into my head.

Reason one: he saw me and bolted.

Reason two: he got into an accident on the way here and he could be in the hospital.

Reason three: he changed his mind and decided to stand me up.

More and more played through my head as I sipped my drink. 

By the time I was on my second drink, I was convinced he wasn’t showing up. I knew this was a ridiculous idea. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I never should have listened to her.

I chugged the rest of my drink followed by some water before standing up to leave some cash. I was slightly humiliated for actually thinking this would be any different than all of my expectations.

My shoulder rammed into another as I turned to leave.

“Oh my, God, I’m so sorry!” A hand steadied me, gently grabbing the shoulder he ran into. “Are you okay?”

“My already small ego is a little bruised, but I think I’ll live.” I looked up to meet my assaulter’s eyes and immediately I froze.

Holy shit, it’s Chris Evans.

His piercing blue eyes were staring right at me, his concern was directed towards me. In all of his charming, ray of sunshine, bearded glory, he was here.

“I’m so sorry that I’m late. Traffic was insane over the bridge. I would have called but I don’t have your number.” He half-smirked but not in a cocky way. I’d seen him do it in interviews before. He could have come up with a lame excuse, but somehow I knew he was telling the truth.

“No, it’s okay. I understand completely.”

He sighed in relief, his gorgeous and perfect smile taking over his features. He looked down at the table and it disappeared. “Were you leaving?”

“Uh,” I stammered, “I was because I thought I was being stood up.”

“I feel awful. Please let me make it up to you. Let’s sit down, have a nice dinner, and get to know each other.”

I hesitate, now even more nervous than I was before.

As if sensing my hesitation, he decided to sweeten the pot a bit to persuade me, “We can even get dessert.”

I chuckle at his attempt. That’ll do it though. I sit back down with him following suit, finally starting our date.

We talked about everything. Anything and everything. No topic was off limits. Hours went by but it felt like minutes. We didn’t even know how long we’d been there until our waiter came to tell us that the restaurant was closed. We left and walked around the city until the night sky was giving way to the morning. He accompanied me back to my car, gave me the best hug I’ve ever received and a kiss on the cheek, promising we’ll get together again soon, and opening and closing my car door for me. I drove away with the biggest smile on my face and literal butterflies in my stomach. That was the best date I’d ever been on.

When I made it back to my apartment with the early morning rays peeking through my shades, I had a text message waiting for me from him. Just a simple good night, he had had an amazing time, and he couldn’t wait to see me again.

I fell asleep, hopeful. Hopeful that I would see him again, that this could maybe go somewhere. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it was hard not to. I hadn’t felt this way in an exceptionally long time. I haven’t been on this good of a date in equally as long. I can’t wait to see him again…

                      Present day...

I finally pull into the parking lot after an hour stuck in traffic. My 12-hour day at work today has taken a lot out of me. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. Thankfully though, my 2-week-long vacation starts tomorrow. After that, I have fourteen days of no working, no getting up at the ass crack of dawn to be able to drive in miserable traffic, no dealing with difficult or boring co-workers. Just fourteen days of rest and relaxation, after the wedding of course.

My best friend and her fiancé are getting married on Saturday. I’ve watched them go through all of their highs and lows throughout the last few years and when he came to me telling me he planned on proposing, I couldn’t have been happier for them. He even asked me to secretly photograph the moment for her. She was more than surprised about everything.

Now their wedding is here and everyone couldn’t be more excited to celebrate them.

Tomorrow is their rehearsal dinner. The wedding party and their plus ones are all invited.

I walk into my apartment, immediately relieving myself from the confines of my shoes. A heavenly scent registers to me and I’m carried all the way to the kitchen. I see my sexy boyfriend standing at the stove with his back towards me.

“Hey babe,” he calls without turning around.

I hum, happily making my way towards him. I wrap my arms around his waist, placing a kiss on his back. “What is that unbelievable smell?”

He chuckles, vibrating through his chest. “Your favorite, of course.”

I hum again, “You spoil me, baby.”

He chuckles again, turning in my arms. His handsome face finally came into view. His gorgeous brown eyes look into mine as I get lost in his. For the past year, I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a while. Since the day I met him, it was like everything fell into place. He’s sweet, ambitious, funny, kindhearted, passionate, and just overall the best man I had ever met. He makes me so happy…

Oh who am I kidding? He’s perfect. He is everything I ever wanted. If I made a list of all of the qualities I wanted in a husband, he would check off every single box.

But the feelings I have had for him over the last year are nothing compared to what I had in one night for him. I find myself wishing his eyes were bright blue instead of dark brown. I wish his arms were around me instead of the ones around me right now. The butterflies from that night have stayed dormant ever since.

I don’t know what happened after that night. I honestly thought we had a good time that night. Conversations flowed seamlessly. We made each other laugh so hard we had tears running down our faces. The physical connection was there- at first he had his arm around my shoulders as we walked around town, but as time went on he slowly moved lower around my waist, eventually intertwining our hands together until we arrived back at our cars. He even said that he wanted to see me again.

But I never heard from him again after that one text message. No call, no text, not even a message from my friend’s boyfriend. Nothing. I was disappointed beyond belief. I didn’t think he was that guy: the type to ditch someone without any explanation or goodbye. I thought I understood him to be a gentleman. Everything I had read about him pointed to him being one of the purest humans in the world. This was the opposite of all of that.

From that day on, I’ve loathed him. He gave me the perfect evening and then cut me off cold turkey from anything further. I have a three strike rule. His first: he was late. His second: he tricked me into liking him. His third: he lied to me. Three strikes and he’s out.

I have tried not to look back since. It’s not without its difficulties though since he’s literally everywhere. On magazine covers, in commercials, movie trailers, streaming services- he’s there. Why did he have to be such a successful actor? If he weren’t, it would make for forgetting him that much easier.

No closure. No answers. Nothing.

The rehearsal dinner went smoothly the next night which hopefully was foreshadowing for the big day itself. 

A majority of us were standing around about to start when the doors loudly being opened drew everyone’s attention away from our milling about. A man stood in the middle of the doorway then strode in like he owned the place. The closer he got, the more the details of his face came into focus.

No. Freaking. Way.

I look toward my best friend. She looked like she wasn’t shocked he was late, but she knew he was coming. I creep up behind her and clear my throat. Instantly she cringed.

“Did you forget to tell me something?” I whisper to her.

She sends me an apologetic smile, “Well, I actually put off telling you ‘cause I didn’t know how you would react and then I meant to tell you last night but with the whole ‘I’m getting married in two days’ buzz took over and now the rehearsal is here-”

“Just please tell me I’m not walking in with him.” I beg.

She chuckles nervously before she escaped to go greet him with her fiancé.

I turn to her sister who is also one of my closest friends. “Did you know he was going to be a groomsman?”

The guilt written in her face tells me everything I need to know. “She made me promise not to tell you.”

I groan, “The loyalty level around here is staggeringly low.”

I head over to where my boyfriend is standing and take comfort in his arms before I have to deal with the man who broke my heart.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little confused by my actions.

I nod, “Just tired from last night.” He chuckles at the mention of the night before, squeezing me into his chest.

“Alright everyone! Time to get started.” The wedding coordinator beckons us all to the back entrance of the barn standing next to our corresponding wedding party member. I stand right in front of the Maid of Honor and Best Man. I kept my eyes forward focusing on anything but the guy who took his place next to me.

“It’s good to see you,” He murmurs to me over the instructions of the coordinator.

I scoff and roll my eyes. He has the nerve to say that to me after two years of silence. I imagined a million times what it would be like to see him again. I’d imagined a lot of screaming with possible hitting. Or I thought about the ever-effective, old fashioned silent treatment. He doesn’t deserve to know that our one night out together effected me so much and I’ve carried a rather large torch for him ever since. At the very moment, it will be the latter, but there’s no telling what tonight and tomorrow will bring.

“Now ladies, rest- don’t grab- your hand near the crook of his arm. Men, keep your arm at that angle with an open hand resting on your stomach- no fist. And don’t forget to smile- this is a happy day!” As quickly as he showed up, the coordinator was on to the bride and her father before either of us could register he was there.

I begrudgingly did as I was instructed, “resting” my hand on his bare forearm, holding a stand-in bouquet for the occasion in my other hand.

“Are you not going to talk to me?” He speaks again but I ignore him once more.

Thankfully that was when it was our turn to walk down the aisle. For the rest of the rehearsal, he didn’t get a chance to say anything else. As soon as we were done, I go straight for my boyfriend. I figured there’s no way he would approach me if I were with another man.

We all head to the restaurant afterwards to celebrate the last night before our friends begin their lives together as husband and wife. I keep my distance from Chris, always sticking close with my boyfriend.

The one moment I was alone was when I went to the bathroom. I thought for the few minutes I wouldn’t be in danger.

However I was wrong.

As soon as I step out an arm shot out in front of me. A very pale muscular arm.

“Are you seriously going to ignore me for the next two days?”

I duck under his arm fully planning on continuing what I set out to do.

“Y/N,” he grabs my arm, “will you please talk to me? What did I do to make you so mad at me?”

I whip around hopefully sending daggers his way. “Are you serious right now?”

“She finally speaks!” He exclaims.

“Because I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Like, I don’t think I heard you right.” All of the feelings I’ve been burying for two years were making their way up to the surface and I don’t think I can stop them. “We had a fantastic night. It was literally the best night of my life, it was the most comfortable with a guy that I had ever been. You made me laugh, you gave me butterflies, you helped me feel for the first time in years.” I try to swallow down the lump that was forming in my throat. “You told me you wanted to see me again. You made me excited for the future for once in my life… and then you took it away.”

With every second that passed, his expression got closer and closer to utter defeat: his shoulders slumped, his grip on my arm loosened, his jaw slowly unclenched, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You were late,” I hold up one finger, “You tricked me,” two fingers,” “You lied to me.” Three fingers were up and in front of his face for emphasis. “Three strikes and you’re out.”

I back away from him, having nothing more I wanted to say. As soon as I turned the corner, I felt liberated… for about five seconds. When that passed, devastation hit. For the last two years, I’ve held out hope- I tried not to- but I did, that maybe someday something could happen between us. That maybe, just maybe, we could pick up where we left off that night.

Now that the moment of confrontation has come and gone, I feel all the hope fade away. All of those possibilities I pictured have left the building. Being with him is no longer an option. I have my boyfriend who makes me happy, who gives me everything I could possibly want.

The rest of the night went on without another incident. Chris kept his distance. However, I could feel his eyes on me for every second that passed as we sat at the table. It was a relief when we finally left and could retreat back to our hotel rooms for the night. The bride and I got to stay in a suite that we’ll all be getting ready in in the morning. They wanted to uphold the “not seeing each other the night before the wedding,” even though they’ve lived with each other for a year and a half now.

On the wedding day, everything went according to plan. Everyone was on time to hair and make-up, pictures went flawlessly, the weather cooperated with everything, Chris didn’t attempt to talk to me at all- it was a perfect day to watch two people who love each other commit to the other for the rest of their lives.

But then came the reception. That’s when I knew apparently all bets would be off. The ceremony was over. Niceties would wear off as more and more alcohol is consumed. I was not looking forward to it.

We make our ridiculous entrances and take our seats at the head table. We eat then speeches were made. Lots of laughs were had as the Best Man dished on stories he had with the groom growing up, a few tears were shed at her sister’s after recounting the moment the bride knew he was the man of her dreams- overall I’d say they were a success.

Again, I felt his eyes on me, burning holes in the side of my head from the other side of the groom for the entire dining portion of the evening. I kept myself from glancing in his direction, instead focusing on the conversations with the bride’s sister next to me and my boyfriend who is across the way- anything not to meet his eyes.

Finally the DJ announces it was time for all to convene on the dancefloor after the specialty dances. I immediately see my boyfriend start to stand, knowing he’d been ready for this all night. I’d been looking forward to dancing with him all night as well, I even removed my shoes in anticipation. As I stand up, a hand is held out in front of me. I knew whose hand it was. I remember staring at it as he would rub his lips on our date. The strength of it as it intertwined with mine as we walked down the streets of our town, the safeness I felt as he squeezed it if he detected I was getting anxious around a group of people and I needed the reassurance. I knew that hand well, unfortunately.

“Dance with me?” He nearly whispers in my ear. I didn’t realize he was that close until I could feel said whisper on my neck. I contain the shiver that runs down my spine at how husky his voice is. God I’ve missed that…

No! I will not be enchanted by him again. He does not deserve me.

I exhale the breath I was holding, it comes out a lot harsher than I expected. “No, thank you.” I turn away from him, but his hand gently grabs my arm stopping me from going any further.

He whispers again, “He’s not good enough for you,” before walking away.

I’m frozen in place. I glare at his retreating back as he makes his way over to the bar. My mouth hangs open in disbelief. How dare he… How fucking dare he assume anything about me or my relationship. He doesn’t know anything about what our relationship is like. My boyfriend treats me so well, spoils me even though I know I don’t deserve it. He listens to me, he cares about me, and he makes me laugh until I cry- he’s everything I’ve wanted in a man. Chris is the one who had his chance and subsequently blew it. He has no right to judge or even comment on my relationship when he knows absolutely nothing about it.

I hurriedly make my way to my awaiting boyfriend and pull him onto the crowded dancefloor. “You okay?” He asks me, “Did he say something to upset you?”

“Nothing worth repeating.” All I wanted to do was forget about him and his irrelevant feelings towards my relationship…

…Except I couldn’t. His words rattled me. Does he see something I don’t? He told me on our date that he’s an excellent judge of character so he wouldn’t say something like that unless he got a bad feeling, right? Either that or he said it just to get under my skin and force me to talk to him. No matter the reason I hate him for it because my pride won’t let it stand.

I spot him leaning against the bar, staring directly at the two of us over the rim of his glass. His perfect eyebrow quirks up at the eye contact, that sets my blood to boiling. He thinks he’s so smug. I wish I could just slap that stupid hidden smirk right off his perfect face…

Following a few dances, I mutter something about him going to dance with the bride to my boyfriend before exiting the dancefloor. I rush out of the barn, away from the crowd needing some air from his suffocating gaze. I find a little lit area that’s perfect for pictures. There are rectangular hay bales set together as a makeshift U-shaped bench with some low watt bulbs strung up above between two poles. It would be serene if I weren’t already on edge.

After taking a few deep breaths, I finally feel like I can speak without yelling. “You had no right.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know he followed me out here. It’s exactly what I wanted him to do, just like it was his intention to get under my skin. As much as I wished to avoid this conversation it seems that we can’t go on without it. We may tear each other apart in the process, but this is my chance for closure. This is my only opportunity to get the answers I’ve been needing to move on for the past two years. Two years of wondering what went wrong after the most perfect date I’ve ever been on with an equally perfect man has been eating at my heart and mind. I hated always wondering “what if” or “what would I be doing right now if I were with him” especially when I started dating my boyfriend. I had no answers as to why those questions could not be. I thought with time I’d stop asking them, thinking I’d never see the man again. He’s a big movie star, why would he wonder about a woman he went on one date with?

As I expected, his deep baritone voice comes behind me, but his words do little to ease my nerves. In fact they set them off even more so than before. “I’m sorry.”

I scoff at his half-hearted apology, knowing he doesn’t mean it at all. “Oh bite me, Christopher.” I turn around to face him. God he looks even better out here. The subtle gold glow from the lights are complimenting his skin tone, they make his baby blues shine which just frustrates me more.

“Please, Y/N,-” He takes a step closer to me, but I won’t have that. 

“No,” I take a step back keeping the needed distance between us for fear I may strangle him. “I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit excuses. You had no right to pass judgment on a relationship that you know absolutely nothing about.”

He slips his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Oh, I’ve seen enough.”

“Really?” I jut my hip out, resting my hand on it. “In the two days you’ve been here, you think you’ve got us all figured out?”

“Yes,” he answers with conviction. 

My shaking hands clench into fists, trying my damnedest not to lose control. I entangle them into my hair as best as I can without ruining the work the hairstylist did this morning before running them down my face. He has some nerve. 

“We had one night. One night! One nearly perfect night together and suddenly that makes you an expert on what is good for me?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘an expert’-”

“I wouldn’t say anything!” I interrupt, “I never heard from you again. Now after two years, you come in here acting like you know anything about me or my relationship? Who do you think you are?”

“A man who made a mistake!” He snaps.

There was a long pause. I never expected to hear that from him. All these years I wanted to think the worst of him for leaving me hanging like that. He got my hopes up, thinking we may have a future together only for them to come crashing back down to Earth when he never contacted me again. I wondered and wondered if maybe I read the signals wrong. Maybe I took his flirting as more than it was. Maybe the small gestures like his arm around my shoulders, on the small of my back, or the hand holding were only him being friendly. I wracked my brain going over every single detail of the night to try and pinpoint a reason for him not to have called me afterwards. I found nothing, which was equally as frustrating.

“Alright, I made a mistake.” He moves to sit on one of the hay bales. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, letting out a huge sigh. “God I wanted everything with you.”

Once again, I’m frozen by his words. He what? But that doesn’t make sense. His words and his actions don’t line up- how could that be?

He removes his hands from his face, staring at the grass. “After that night, I wanted it all. I wanted to settle down, get the house with a white picket fence in the suburbs, carry you through the threshold after our wedding day, bring our children home from the hospital, watch them grow until we’re old and gray. I wanted everything.”

My heart aches. All of that was exactly what I wanted, especially with him. I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, my heart breaking mourning the loss of what we could have had by now if he had only said something.

I also find my anger growing as well. If he felt all of that, why did he not contact me again? Why did he give me hope that our night out together could have been the start of something good and then taken it away just as quickly?

“But?” There had to be a “but” coming after his statement. Clearly something stopped him from pursuing the possibility of “us,” destroying any future we could have had.

He sighs, “but…” he finally looks up at me with more emotion in his eyes than I was expecting. There was contemplation, confusion, honesty, agony…

I look away. In an instant I knew what he was about to say. It makes complete sense. He was at the height of his career, shooting movie after movie all around the world for a majority of the year. How would he have had time to have a relationship mixed in with that? He couldn’t.

“Your career was more important,” I interject, “I get it. I do.” I couldn’t fault him for choosing work over someone he just met, no matter how much he claims to have liked me right off the bat. He was going to be busy. We probably wouldn’t have had a lot of time to see each other. It’s not like I could give up my career to follow him. Besides even if I could have, he wouldn’t want that. He said so himself. He wanted someone who was independent; who could do their own thing and not be enveloped in his crazy life.

He stands up and steps closer to me, “no, that wasn’t it. I promise you that wasn’t it.”

There’s that word. Promise. He promised we’d see each other again soon after our night together. But he broke that.

“Then what was it?” My voice cracks at the end. I can feel my reserves slipping the more he speaks. I didn’t realize how much I missed his voice until now. I haven’t seen any of the movies he’s been in the last few years. I have him and his hashtag blocked on all social media platforms so I don’t see anything of his on any of my timelines. My other friends think I don’t like him (only my best friend and her now husband know about our date). To hear it again brings back all of the good memories we made together in that short night and all of the emotions I’ve been holding back since. “I have been wracking my brain for years wondering what went wrong after that.”

“I got scared,” he finally admits the truth. “I got scared of how much I liked you and how much I wanted to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me,” he casts his gaze down at his hands as he fidgets with them, “and my life. I didn’t want to subject you to the chaos that is my life. I know what my fans would do to you if we were in a relationship, I was trying to protect you from all of the ugly that being with me comes with.”

So that’s what he was afraid of? He was afraid our relationship would inevitably end exactly like his last one? His “fans” were horrible to her. They sent death threats to her and her family members, always commenting negatively on her social media pages all because she was dating him. I remember reading about it right after it happened. I knew that side of his fandom was toxic. But did I care? No. Did I think I couldn’t handle it? I honestly don’t know, but would I have been willing to deal with it for him? Yes. I would have given up anything to be with him. That’s precisely why he did what he did. He didn’t want me giving anything up for him because he knows I’d be giving up any semblance of privacy I had if I were in a public relationship with him.

If I had known these were the reasons why he ghosted me, I would have been broken hearted but I would have understood. Hell, I probably would have fallen more in love with him if I knew that, not fallen in loathe.

He continues, “I thought that if I never contacted you again, you could move on”- he clears his throat-“and find someone better than me who could give you the normal life you deserve. Which as much as I wish I couldn’t, I see that you have…” he pauses as if deciding whether he should keep speaking. When I don’t stop him, he does, “But I can’t help feeling like that could have been me.”

My slightly shaky hands cover his fidgeting ones. His hand moves until he’s intertwining our fingers together, palms touching. They fit perfectly together as if they were each other’s missing puzzle piece. His thumbs stroke mine sending warmth down my arms all the way down to my toes. The sparks I felt back then return with full force. He leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. My heart is beating out of my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t feel it in some way.

I feel my heart break in my chest. My lip quivers and the tears threaten to make themselves known. My only saving grace is the fact that he can’t see my face. I may lose it completely if he did.

His breath is coming out equally as shaky between us, he squeezes my hands as if he doesn’t want me to let go. Believe me, I don’t want to. I bring one of our interlocked hands up to my lips. I kiss the back of his hand because I can’t kiss him where I want to. I pull back just enough to see his beautiful baby blues that could have any woman in the world swoon. They were terribly bloodshot right now but that only made them more tragically breathtaking. I tear one of my hands out of his and bring it to his cheek. He leans into it, a tear drops into the crevices between the contact.

The barely above whisper that came out was all I could muster without having a total breakdown because he’s right. It could have been him. We could have been something great. We could have built a life together. We could have had it all. And it broke my heart into a million pieces knowing all of this could have been avoided if life had handed both of us different lives.

“It almost was.”

~*~

Taglist: @the-marvel-wars​ @elusive-beauty​ @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent​ @fantasy-is-my-reality​ @princess-evans-addict​

[mrpenguinpants]

Childe/Tartaglia: “Enemies” to “Lovers”

Aww, thank you 💕💕 All of you are so lovely ;-; Coming out from the bushes and attacking me.

Have you guy’s seen the Childe trailer? It’s in Chinese but holy shit I want him?? Who is Xiao anymore? WHAT ARE LOYALTIES??? I’m gonna ATTEMPT to roll for Childe. I love snake two faced characters so much.

I’ve never written for Childe before and there’s not a lot to go off on but I will try my best. Honestly, he’s like Dazai 2.0 for me lol.

I’m not sure what scenario you wanted but since I’m hard simping for this man, I made this a lot a bit self indulgent. I actually had a completely different idea so that’s where the enemies to lovers title comes from before I scrapped it. Now if you’ll excuse me, here’s your 2k words of food.

Update: Guess what? You’re getting a part 2. Don’t know when but now I have a taglist if you want to be added and tagged when it comes out 

---

Childe/Tartaglia: “Enemies” to “[Lovers]”

Childe silently hops over the wall and onto the roof in the dead of night. The moon was shining high, casting dark shadows that he slips in between them as he eyes his destination. An open window leading to an important personnel. Usually, he would send an agent to observe, but once he learned who this secret person was, he decided to take it into his own hands. To stretch his muscles a bit. His hand quickly caught the edge of the window sill as he raises himself and drops into the spacious room. He whistles lowly as he looks around. This was a big room but it wasn’t that much of a surprise, considering who was staying here.

“Thank you, have a good night.”

His head perks up as he hears a voice and steps into the shadows of the room. He can faintly make out an outline of a body behind the sliding doors and stands back, out of sight. He watches as the doors slowly open and the person he’s been looking for steps in. One of the leaders of the Qixing. As soon as the door’s close behind you, your shoulder’s finally relaxed before turning around to walk to the other end of the room where a large mirror was placed. You loosen the pin holding your clothes up, finally ready to get rid of these heavy clothes. He quickly averts his eyes but your voice once again breaks the silence.

“Do you make it a habit of watching others without their knowledge or are you going to say something?” you ask as you turn around as your eyes roam around what appeared to be an empty room. He weighs his options before shrugging and stepping out into the moonlight with his arms raised in mock surrender.

“I swear I would look away. I’m a bad guy but I’m not one of those types. I promise!” He laughs casually despite the circumstance, “I’m surprised you noticed me. But I suppose one of the Qixing would be capable of such an act.”

“Oh no, you were perfect. You just came at a bad time. But who are you? You don’t act like an agent” you eyed him carefully as you fiddled with your pin.

“I’m Childe, one of the Fatui’s Eleven Harbingers,” he replies giving a mock bow in your direction. He watches your reaction to see if you’ll panic and call for the Millelith. Instead, you simply nod along and you’ve stopped fiddling with the pin on your clothing.  

“Ah, I’ve met a few of you Harbingers. You don’t look like one” you remarked as you turn around once again to finally undo the pin. Childe quickly turns his gaze away as you settle the heavy clothes on the table to fold. You pull your inner clothes closer to yourself to keep warm in the chilly room.

“I’m a bit too young to see their way of thinking. So I don’t fit in well with them,” he shrugs unbothered. He’s never liked the other Harbingers anyways, “I wasn’t aware that the Qixing had other leaders present.”

“Well, the Qixing prefer to keep things somewhat discreet-”

“Yaoguang? Is everything alright? We heard voices,” one of the Millelith cuts you off as both Childe and your eyes dart to the paper screen door. Childe steps silently towards the window sill, ready to escape if needed. He would have to do a lot of unnecessary explaining if he were caught and the Qixing were already suspicious of the Fatui.

“Yes, I’m alright. I haven’t heard anything at all. Are you sure you are alright? Maybe you should rest,” you quickly walk to the door and slide it open just enough for the Millelith to see your face. The Millelith shakes his head and quietly apologizes for disturbing you before leaving.

“That looks like my cue to go, it’s getting pretty late anyway,” Childe smiles as he ducks under the window sill and gives a small wave back to you.

“Have a good night Childe.”

“You too, Yaoguang.”

---

“Don’t you think the Qixing are a bit too secretive?”

You turn around to see Childe sitting on the window sill as he ponders the thought. His right leg is resting on his left knee as his arm hold’s his chin as he stares at the wall in front of him. You give him a quick once over before going back to what you were doing, polishing your pin.

“Are you sure one of the Fatui should be saying that? Your organization plays with deceit and trickery” you laugh quietly to yourself as you place your pin in a old wooden box. It looked out of place in the room with the crude drawings and chipped paint, but Childe thought it suited you.

“Hey, I don’t agree with those methods at least! I’m here in front of you, aren’t I? But what about you? Aren’t you keeping me a secret from the Qixing?” he grins mischievously as he directs his attention onto you. Your back to still to him but he can watch your face in the reflection of the mirror. He’s not sure if he should commend you on your relaxed expression or the fact that he could easily kill you with your back turned.

“Mm, perhaps. But I enjoy this. You may not believe me but I think of you as a friend Childe. A personal secret of mine.” you say amused as you look up into the reflection of the mirror and manage to catch his surprised expression before it disappears.

“A friend? We’ve barely known each other,” he looked at you incredulously but with a wry smile, “I might seem nice but I’m still a bad guy.”

“A lot of people in Liyue don’t appear as they seem. But I don’t consider all of them as bad people. Don’t you think so Childe?”

He doesn’t say anything. You never mention it again.

---

“I have a younger sister who is an astrologist,” you say as you’re lying back on the bed while he sits on the window sill, “she’s the one that gave me this pin except her pin is red with the star and moon.”

You held the pin up for him to take and look for himself. He slips off the window sill and walks to your lying figure to take hold of it. It was a blue pin with a star in the center and the sun’s rays lining the edges of the rim. It was a bit worn but it was in incredibly good condition. He’s seen how you look at the pin so he’s not surprised.

“Astrology huh? Aren’t you Qixing named after the Big Dipper’s stars?” he asks as he hands the pin back to you and watches your eyes take a childlike gleam. He huffs a bit amused under his breath, you always seem to get like this whenever he let’s you ramble about stars.

“Yes, Yaoguang is translated from the Alkaid star. Alkaid derives from the Arabic phrase meaning "The leader of the daughters of the bier". The daughters of the bier are the three stars of the handle of the Big Dipper, Alkaid, Mizar, and Alioth. While the four stars of the bowl, Megrez, Phecda, Merak, and Dubhe, are the bie,” you ramble on making different gesture as you continue your mini lecture, “Tianquan and Yuheng are the stars Megrez and Alioth. They are here in Liyue too but Tianquan will be the one that preforms the Rite of Descension. It feels as if I’m attending my sister’s talent show even if Tianquan is older than me.”

“Hm, I��ve never looked into studying the stars. I’m more of a fighter,” Childe comments as he hears you laugh that you’re not surprised. He looks towards the moon and see’s it’s his time to leave. You give him a small wave as he starts back to the window sill before giving a small comment over his shoulder.

“You know I also have a younger sister.”

“Is she aware of what you do Childe?”

“No, of course not. Does your sister know what you do?”

“No, she doesn’t know either.”

---

“Can I see your mask?”

He unstraps it from his head and hands it to you as he watches you run your finger around the intricate details before moving it over your face. You’re both seated on the bed this time beside each other.

“I don’t understand how you can fight wearing this,” you say as you squint your eyes through the opening of the mask. He chuckles softly at the weird expression before plucking his mask out of your hands.

“Hm? I thought the Qixing were capable fighters?” he asks as he reattaches the mask to the side of his head. He rest’s his chin back onto his hand and settles back into his comfortable position.

“Yes, Tianquan uses the geo element while Yuheng uses electro,” you list off on one hand.

“What do you use?” he asks.

“Who knows” you answer.

He pouts a bit which you have to stifle your laugh at. It’s somewhat amazing how far he’s gone with this. He’s pretty busy managing business behind the scenes and getting on friendly terms with that funeral parlor man, Zhongli was it? Yet, he finds himself back here whenever he get’s a free night.

“I’m sorry for laughing but I never thought you could make such an expression. But I’m being honest. I can’t use a vision so I don’t know,” you shrug as you lie back down and close your eyes. Childe nods along even though you can’t see him. He had always thought the pin you carried was your vision until you let him hold it for himself.

“If you joined the Fatui. We could give you a vision,” he says as his gaze almost pierces through you but you continue to look unbothered. Your eye’s still remained peacefully closed.

“It’s the night before the Rite of Descension. It will be a busy day so you should get some rest before then Childe”

---

It was the day of the Rite of Descension and he had yet to see you. He knew you would be observing but wouldn’t you at least be at a vantage point where you could view the entire ritual?

“Excuse me, have you seen the Yaoguang?” he asks one of the Qixing attendants but she only looks at him confused. He’s not that surprised about that either.

“Yaoguang? I’m sorry but that leader isn’t here in Liyue right now. Did you mean to ask for Tianquan Lady Ningguang perhaps?” she attempts to correct as she gestures to the middle of the stage, where the white haired woman was standing.

“Yaoguang isn’t here? They haven’t appeared at all these past few weeks for the Rite of Descension to observe?” he asks again but the lady shook her head as he chuckled. So not even people closest to the Qixing knew that one of their leaders was being impersonated.

“Oh, sorry. Yes, I meant for Tianquan Ningguang. Sorry, these star names are a bit hard to wrap my head around” he laughs it off before walking away before the lady has time to respond.

“She is busy preparing for the Rite of Descension so she won’t be seeing anyone anytime soon. Perhaps after the ceremony if it’s urgent?” she still calls out to him before going back to her responsibilities.  

Tartaglia nods as he waves goodbye before continuing on. He never cared for the Rite of Descension but maybe today will be interesting. He spots two familiar faces in the crowd trying to get to the front to see the Rite of Descension. They seem to be friends. He laughs to himself as he reminisces all your past interactions with him. He’ll find out sooner or later who this mysterious Yaoguang impersonator is. After all, the walls have ears.

---

Part 2 perhaps? Depends on the feedback I get on this. I read about the big dipper for this fic. 

[fallingforunrealisticromance]

I've got you - Derek Morgan x fem!reader part 2

A/N: Part 2 is here!! This is a lot more domestic and fluffy so I hope you guys enjoy:)

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2191

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The ride to Derek’s was a quiet one, but I didn’t mind. Even though everything happened so quick, I felt entirely drained. I’d been to his place a million times before but for some reason today felt different, wrong. Derek took my bags and placed them down as we entered, closing the door behind us. I looked tentatively around his hallway, not wanting to move.

“Hey” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “You’re safe here. No one’s gonna hurt you.” His voice was soft, providing me a small amount of comfort. I just nodded at his words. “Come on, let’s get you set up. You need sleep.” With his hand on the small of my back, he guided me gently towards his room.

“Wait Derek no I can’t take your room. This is your place; I’ll just stay on the sofa” I said trying to turn and leave the room, but he pulled me back.

“No y/n don’t be dumb.”

“But-“

“Just be quiet and let me do this for you” He said light-heartedly. Sighing, I reluctantly sat down on his bed. He started rummaging around in his drawers before pulling out a pair of basketball shorts and a big grey sweatshirt. “Here” He chucked them at me, hitting me in the face.

“You know I brought my own stuff” I chuckled.

“Yeah but mine looks so much better on you” He smirked, winking at me.

“Seriously? I’ve just been through a traumatic event and you’re flirting with me” I replied sarcastically, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“No better time beautiful.”

“Oh, shut up.”

He laughed before leaving me to change. I quickly pulled the clothes on, being enveloped by his scent. As expected, they were too big for me, but they hung off me in a casual yet stylish way, so I wasn’t complaining. I made my way out of his room to find him settled on the sofa flicking through Netflix.

“Hey.” I said catching his attention. His eyes scanned over my body as his mouth hung open slightly. “Don’t trip over your jaw there” I joked, sitting next to him.

“When you walk in looking like that what do you expect me to do?”

“Come off it.”

“I’m not lying y/n. your gorgeous.” He stared at me, an emotion flooding his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. We held each other’s gaze longer than I think either of us intended to. The tension in the air was impossible to escape from. I don’t know what it was, maybe the fact he’d saved me, but something was drawing me to him. Like literally. I felt myself slowly moving closer to him, as he copied my actions. My eyes flickered across his face, trying not to pay any attention to his lips. This was my best friend. I shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought of him being anything more. But in that moment, every smile, every laugh, every time he’d made me feel like life was worth living flashed through my head. Had we been this oblivious to something that was starring us in the face this whole time? I could feel his warm breath fanning over my face. Neither of us moved for a second, unsure of what this would mean. But eventually, Derek leaned forward once again. His lips brushed softly against mine.

Just as I closed my eyes, ready to give in to this – give in to him – there was a sharp knock at the door causing us both to jump apart. I pulled the jumper closer to my body, now feeling incredibly stupid and awkward. Derek just starred ahead of him, as if he was trying to process what the fuck just happened. Before either of us could say anything, there was another hard knock at the door. Derek’s head snapped to face it, any tension between us immediately slipped away as he moved in front of me protectively before making his way to the door.

“Stay there” he instructed. As he made his way out of the room, I slumped back into the sofa burying my head in my hands. Why did I just let that happen? Where do we go from here? Have I just fucked everything up? Before I could stress out anymore, Emily’s voice flooded my ears.

“Well neither of you were answering the phone, what did you expect me to think?” Shit. She came round the corner, relief washing over her when she saw me. “hey, are you okay? I called you”

“Yeah I left my phone in Derek’s room, sorry for worrying you” A smirk settled on her lips as she looked between me and Derek.

“Derek’s room huh?” I felt my face flush red as I chuckled awkwardly.

“Get your mind out of the gutter Prentiss.” He joked.

“Well why else was she in there then? And may I ask why she’s in your clothes?” She stated smugly. I rolled my eyes standing up.

“I’ll show you. Come on” I grabbed her hand and tugged her to his room, leaving Derek stood in the front room. I pushed her inside and quickly closed the door behind us.

Emily laughed. “Whoa, you’re in a rush. That excited to show me where the magic happened then?”

“Me and Derek almost kissed” I blurted out in a hushed tone. Her jaw dropped.

“I’m sorry – what” I just nodded. “Explain. Now” She said, sitting down on the bed.

“We were just sitting on the sofa, and he said I look good in his clothes-“

“He’s not wrong you know they really suit you”

“-and then we both just sort of ended up leaning in and then well you came in”

Her face fell once again. “What? Are you joking? Oh, for gods sake I wish I hadn’t come over now.” I chuckled slightly at how distraught she was. “How do you feel?” She asked noticing how I was fidgeting with my hands.

“I don’t know.” I breathed. We were silent for a moment. “I think…I liked it?” I whispered. Emily let out a small cheer, making me jump. “Shush, I don’t want him to hear us”

“Sorry, sorry I’m just happy for you.” I ran my fingers through my hair.

“But what if it doesn’t mean the same to him? I mean you know what he’s like, he flirts with anything with a pulse.”

Emily nodded. “I mean you’re not wrong.”

“Oh great.”

“But he’s different with you.”

I looked at her, confused.

“Oh, come on, don’t act like you don’t see it too” She stated.

“See what?”

“Just him, his behaviour around you”

“You forget that I’m not a profiler Em” I replied rolling my eyes.

“Trust me, it does not take a profiler to work out how he feels about you.” I let her sentence hang in the air. I didn’t really know how to respond to that. “Whenever he’s with you, he just seems so relaxed. He never has to put a front with you, it’s almost like he completely unwinds with you. Not to mention how his eyes never leave you. Every chance that man gets, he’ll be admiring you.” My mouth hung open slightly at her words. “How have you not noticed this?? Not even how affectionate he is with you?? He will take any excuse he can to be near you or touch you.” She explained.

Thinking back on it, what she was saying made sense. Whenever we saw each other – whether in a group setting or alone – he would stay close to me. I can’t count the times he would rest his arms against mine or place his hands on my hips when moving past me, just little things like that that I’d always overlooked. Until now.

“Holy shit” I whispered.

“You see my point?” I nodded at her words. “So, here’s what you’re gonna do. I’m gonna leave, and you my friend, are going to ride that man into the floor.”

“Emily” I slapped her on the arm before bursting out laughing. After we calmed down, she stood up.

“Seriously, make your move.” I sighed.

“I’ll try” We made our way back to the front room where Derek was sat, watching a film.

“Well, I’m off. Have fun” Emily said, waving at Derek. She shot me a supportive thumbs up before leaving. I took a deep breathe, trying to supress any nerves that were threatening to explode before tuning and entering the front room.

“You two took your time.” Derek said, his eyes not leaving the screen.

“Uhm yeah she was just telling me about a date she’d been on.”

“If it wasn’t with JJ I don’t want to know.” I smiled at his words. I glanced over at him, taking my time to appreciate his features. Even though he’d always been attractive, everything about him seemed to be a little more beautiful. The sudden urge to touch him washed over me. I wanted nothing more than to curl up against him and just feel him pressed against me. I wanted to be utterly consumed by him and nothing else.

“You know your starring right?” His voice broke me from my trance.

“Right sorry, just appreciating the view” I mumbled.

“No need to apologise baby girl.” His tone was soft, not something I heard often. It made my heart melt. I looked at my hands, fidgeting with the sleeves of his jumper as I tried to pluck up the courage to talk to him. “Hey.” He called gently. He’d stopped the film by now, his focus solely on me. “Come here.” Slowly, I shuffled my way towards him until I was sat facing him. I tried my best to appear calm, but I think the vigorous tugging of my sleeves gave me away. Derek placed his hands softly over mine, entwinning his fingers with mine. This small display of affection caused my breathing to halter.

“What’s got you all worked up then?” He asked caringly.

“You” I whispered, finally meeting his gaze. His brow furrowed slightly, and he pulled away from me. “No no wait, it’s not a bad thing.” I said reaching for his hands once again. I took a deep breathe. “I don’t know what this is. Or what it could be. All I know is this morning, I saw you as a friend. But now, I want more than that. I want you Derek.” I confessed.

A smile crept its way across his lips, even though he tried to hide it. He placed his hands on my hips before promptly lifting me up and placing me on his lap.

“Well, that was a bit forward” I laughed, my arms snaking their way around his neck.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this” He said chuckling.

“You got me there.”

We just sat there, relishing this feeling. The feeling of being just us. No BAU buddies, no unsubs, or dickheads from work. Nothing existed outside of each other. We consumed the other’s world for that brief time. Derek lifted his hand, cupping my face. I closed my eyes and leant into his touch, smiling to myself. Yet again, the urge to kiss him swum through me. Clearly he felt the same as he began to lean forward. Just as I was about to press my lips to his, he stopped and pulled back slightly.

“What about Sean?”

“He’s not my type.”

“But surely you’ll want to-“

“Oh just shut up.”

I cut him off by crashing my lips to his. He responded quickly, wrapping his arm tightly around my waist. I melted into his as he overwhelmed my senses. His lips were soft yet rough in the most perfect way. His hand moved from my cheek to tangle in my hair, pulling me impossibly closer. Finally, we were able to let out of the pent-up tension between us in one heated moment. Everything just felt right. Eventually, we both pulled away slightly breathless from the passion of it all. I kept my eyes closed as he rested his forehead against mine, allowing myself to bask in the joy of it all for a moment longer.

“It’s about damn time.” Derek whispered.

“You could’ve said something sooner.” I replied, pulling back to look at him.

“That’s not how I work gorgeous.” He said smiling.

”Mhm I’m aware.” I tried my best to stifle a yawn that had decided now was the perfect time to creep up on me but failed miserably.

“Wow am I that bad of a kisser?” Derek said, mock offence laced in his tone.

“Shut up, you know you’re not.” I said smiling.

“Very true. Come on, you need to sleep.”

I nodded in agreement. I went to get of his lap, but instead was greeted with him wrapping his arms under my legs and lifting me up. As he stood up, he decided to cover my face in a bunch of small kisses making me laugh the whole way to his room. I think that was the moment I knew I loved him. No matter what happened from this point onwards, I would always love Derek Morgan.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 3? I'm not actually sure where to take it from here so if anyone has any suggestions let me know!

Tag list: @1234-angelika @hotch-stufff @wanniiieeee

[flamminghotweedos]

A/N: uh I really hope you enjoy this one, it gets really saucy and I HOPE you’re okay with that haha. It’s been a HOT MINUTE since I’ve written something like this and I’m kind of writing it in a hurry so sorry if it’s not that good okay sorry I’m an insecure writer I hope you enjoy kk :)

Word Count: 2199

Requested: yes “@1erectionaf Hey I saw your post about outer banks Fanfic, do you think you could write one about 82 and 88 for JJ? :)”

#82 "don't ruin my sofa." and #88 "do you think they can hear us?"

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Warnings: lil smut, cursing and drinking. uh shit gets hot and heavy and pretty saucy so hang on ladiez

~Couch Surfing~

(Quick note, holy fuck that gif ^)

It was before Agatha hit the island. Summer had just began and life was good. You had your best friends around you as you all hung out on the hammocks in John B.’s back yard. Pope has been your neighbor since you were kids, and you were in every academic club he was in. If you had to pick one of the other Pogues, you were closest to Pope. Kiara of course was a close second, then John B. That left JJ. The two of you had been secretly...macking on each other despite the rule. The two of you thought it’d be better if no one knew so there was no awkward tension in the group. Yet everyone knew. Everyone in the group could see it, and everyone was cool with it because the two of you hadn’t made a big deal of it. Of course, JJ had ranted to everyone about how much he liked you on a fishing trip you had skipped out on after he’d had too many beers. And equally, one day when JJ was mowing lawns on The Cut, you were hanging at John B’s house and let a few too many hits from Kie’s joint get to you, and spewed all the bottled up emotions you had for your best friend.

So yeah, life was good. But also, incredibly sufferable when they others would tease the two of you, not knowing they knew.

You were laying in one of the hammocks, swinging back and forth as you tried to come up with something to do that day.

“I’m perfectly content with staying right here,” you had said with your eyes closed as you swayed in the hammock.

“I’m with Y/N on this one. Just hope the rain doesn’t come soon,” JJ agreed, which normally doesn’t happen when making plans.

“Fine, Pope and I are gonna head over to The Wreck and see what Kie wants to do,” John B. rolled out of his hammock as a crack of lighting struck over the ocean making JJ flinch, and accidentally roll out of his hammock on to the dirt. Pope, John B. and you erupted into fits of laughter as JJ stood up and brushed the dirt off.

“Alright yeah, very funny. I’m hilarious, I’ll just go home,” JJ was just poking fun at you, hoping you’d said something to get him to stay with you at John B’s. Pope got out of his seat as well and patted John B.’s shoulder.

“No,” you pouted and struggled to get out of your comfortable spot, wiggly your way out of the hammock, your three guy friends not helping but to smile watching you struggle. “Come on it’s raining, we can couch surf and watch a movie or something, JJ, stay,” you giggle while you pleaded out random ideas that popped in your head as you finally stood up from the hammock. JJ brought his hand to his chin, pinching his lip between his thumb and index finger and quickly scanned your body. You felt your heart beat in a different way and quicken when he did, a sudden flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Fine, only if your nicer to me though,” JJ nodded for you to follow him to the house as Pope and John B. headed to the Twinkie.

“Don’t ruin my sofa!” John B. called back. The two of you stopped, faces getting hot. Pope and John B. began to chuckle at the flustered expressions the two of you had.

“W-what?” You nearly coughed out thinking your friends were finally going to put the two of you.

“Cause of the couch surfing,” John B. winked as Pope laughed and walked away.

“Right,” you said even though they were already gone.

“Smooth,” JJ teased and wrapped his hand in yours and pulled you into the house.

“You weren’t any help,” you argued but chuckled and walked to John B.’s kitchen, opening the fridge to look for any kind of food you could snack on. You heard JJ mumbling something as he grabbed your backpack and walked to the bedroom. You laughed and shook your head while grabbing two beers from the fridge and following after him. You placed the two beers on the dresser by the door and sat next to JJ on the bed.

“So...what’re we watching?” You asked. You pulled your laptop from your back pack just to have the tan hand stop you.

“You didn’t really think we were gonna watch a movie, did you?” You looked over to catch JJ’s face inches from yours. Even though you’ve done so much with him, your breath still catches when you’re this close.

“I mean...what else are we gonna do?” You asked and felt JJ’s hand push the laptop back in your bag and set it on the ground, all while maintaining eye contact with you. You let out a shaky breath, still not over how much this guy affects you.

He leaned back up and returned to his spot with his face inches from yours.

“Come on Y/N...you’re a smart girl,” JJ lightly pressed his lips on to yours, feeling a tingle go from your mouth, down to your core. He pulled his lips from yours, making you chase after them causing a smirk to form on his face. “What do you want to do?” You weren’t confident enough in your voice, knowing if you’d answer it’d likely crack. So you simply moved your left leg over his lap and straddled his lap. JJ’s eyebrows cocked up as held back a slight chuckle because of the shock you gave him. You started to smile more as well as his hands rested on your thighs as he sat up to bring your lips together again. This time the kiss was deeper, you granting access for him to slip his tongue in. His hands started to slide up from your thighs, now gripping your hips and moving you against him in rhythm, grinding against him as a slight whimper escaped your lips. You felt a smirk tugged on JJ’s lips. Your right hand were playing with fistfuls of his hair, your left on his jaw, feeling it move in rhythm with everything else.

JJ’s hands now started to move quick, tugging at your light, baggy shirt making you pull away from the kiss. You moved your arms across your torso to take the shirt off, JJ putting his hands on the side of the shirt. You both started to giggle at the eagerness you had to have this shirt off. You tossed the shirt, to the side of the messy room, now only covered by shorts and a bathing top, and put you hands on JJ’s shoulders pushing him back on to the bed making him chuckle at the sudden control you had, knowing it would last for long. You tried to seductively take your time as you sat up with JJ watching your every move underneath him. His hands found their spot on your hips again, pressing you against him, trying to cause from friction. You bit your lip as you slowly undid the button on his shirt.

“For fucks sake,” he breathed out and you let out a yelp as the two of you were flipped on the bed and JJ was now on top. He put himself on his knees in between your legs, and nearly tore the black button up he was wearing off. Another giggle left your mouth as JJ scooter down the bed, lips lightly pressing a kiss on your stomach, a giggle leaving your mouth with each kiss as he trailed up. Yet the giggles stopped and turned to deep sighs as his lips worked around your chest and neck, hands doing their best to untie your bathing suit in the back. Once he got it undone, his lips started to attack your neck and collar bone now, his hand wrapping behind your neck and pulling you up with him so he could slip your top over your head. He leaned back and you felt heat rush to your cheeks as he admired your body.

“Fuck...Y/N you’re so gorgeous,” you let another light laugh out, not being able to help the floaty, giddy feeling you get around JJ. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into another kiss and back down on the bed. He left your lips and trailed down now, his lips leaving little hickies around your breasts, making your back arch once he hit sensitive spots. He skillfully lead his left hand down to your shorts, unbuttoning them and slipping his hand down, feeling how wet you were through your bottoms and pulled his hand out, shifting so he was back on his knees, in between your legs.

“Fuck, JJ,” you breath out and used your hand to grab on to JJ’s hair and tugging at the roots, making him chuckle as you pulled him back to your face, lustfully pressing your lips on to his you started to moan into the kiss more as he grinding himself on to you. JJ let out a small grunt when your hand rugged at his hair more and your lips moved to his neck, bitting slightly to leave a mark. Yet the small moans and breaths were caught when the sound of a door made you freeze.

“Shit,” JJ whispered as you tried to quietly catch your breath. Through the shack walls, you heard more car doors shut and your friends joke and yell through muffled voices. The shark tooth on JJ’s black necklace dangled as his blonde locks fell around his face.

“Fuck,” he breath and moved his hands to your shorts to help you button and zip them. You two moved in a panic as JJ stood up and shut the bedroom door then flopping back on the bed making you giggle.

“Fuck,” you laughed when you couldn’t locate your bathing top. You watched as JJ’s face grew a mischievous smirk. You gave him a questioning look as he held up one finger to his lips, making sure you stayed quiet, slowly moving back over you, you laughed and shook your head, hearing your friends enter the house.

You giggled more once JJ’s lips were back on your neck, hands now pinching the sides of you making you laugh harder.

“Wow! The couch is perfectly fine!” John B.’s voice called making you try to fit JJ off of you. He continued to lick and kiss all over your chest and neck area making you continue to giggle.

“JJ stop,” you breathed out and laughed harder. He shushed you through laughs, knowing the walls were thick enough.

“JJ stop,” John B.’s voice mocked yours from the living room were you heard Kie and Pope laugh. You finally pushed JJ off of you, smiling and shaking your head as you snatched your bathing suit top from the ground and tied it around your back. You started to reach for your shirt, but was pushed back against the bed again, JJ’s bare torso against yours as you let out another breathy laugh. JJ’s lips were back on your neck like a leech making you smiled and peel him off of you.

“JJ, oh my god,” you giggled out, this time,

“JJ, oh my god!” Kiara mimicked your voice

“What?” He whined and handed you his shirt. “Do you think they can hear us?” JJ asked slightly louder, making you roll your eyes. JJ smiled innocently as he handed you his black button up. You smiled and put on the warm shirt, noticing a few buttons were popped off as you buttoned the bottom ones. JJ noticed as well and cocked an eyebrow up, like he was impressed you two did such a thing.

You followed after JJ as he crawled off the bed, running a hand through his hair before opening the door and walking around the corner. He leaned against the wall and looked at his three best friends smirking at him. You walked out after, holding back a slightly embarrassed laugh.

“It’s about damn time,” Pope rose his hand and pointed between the two of you. You smiled over at JJ who did the same to you.

“I have no idea what your talking about,” JJ looked back to his friends quickly before kissing your cheek and linking his fingers with yours.

“Where are you two going?” John B. asked with a smirk on his face, seeing his two best friends so happy. You pulled on JJ’s arm as your stopped in the door way and turned back to John B.

“We’re gonna go couch surf at my house,”

~~~~~~~

AHAHA GOT SAUCIER THAN I EXPECTED AGAIN!

[shoutogepi]

“Fuck You!””I Just Might.”

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 7.1k holy hecc

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : nasty nasties hehe.. choking, angry sex, dom bakugou (what’s new lmao), lots of sexy vengeful teasing, & almost being caught (? idk what to call that haha)

bio : You and Ground Zero are far from getting along in almost every aspect… except for getting off perhaps.

author’s note : wow another smut whodathunkit !!! This isn’t super romantic (Happy VDay my sweets!!) but goddamn if u thirstin today drink tf up bc the SALOON IS OPEN AND HERE’S THE SPECIAL ON DA HOUSE

side note: (Y/H/N) = your hero name, also the sidekick is 100% out my ass not real bc I didn’t feel like doing legit research heheh. also, all characters are aged up to long past UA-grad in this (so everyone is 18+!!)

tagging: @lordexplosionsextra per request -- hope you enjoy bb :) happy vday!

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄰rms crossed, chest puffing in defiance, your gaze shoots daggers into his stupid smirk. “I’m not your fucking sidekick, Boom-Boy, so you can crawl back into the putrid swamp you came from and take your damn paperwork with you!”

“H-hey now,” Bakugou’s sidekick laughs nervously, hands waving in front of him as he shakes off the jab you just took at him inadvertently.

Bakugou laces his gloved fingers over his lap and kicks back in his chair, straightening his legs so his boots rest on the table across from you. “Listen, Princess, you know the rules. Whoever gets the final blow doesn’t have to do the nitty-gritty shit,” he answers, shrugging nonchalantly.

“You only got the finisher in ‘cuz I was busy doing everything else! You pop in at the last second and get all the credit and no busywork? Fuck off,” you fume, hooking your foot around the leg of his chair and ripping it toward you. Bakugou’s eyes widen as he falls backwards, tumbling onto the hard floor. He grimaces at you from the floor, vermillion eyes ablaze.

“It’s not my fault you’re too stupid to strategize! Don’t start shit you can’t fucking finish yourself!” He barks, voice spiking with fury. Ouch, that one stung your pride a little.

“You’re such an asshole,” you snarl, shoving the stack of papers off the table. The pages swirl in the air and scatter onto the tiled floor, some landing on the instigator’s lap. Bakugou’s palms crackle as his breath is stolen at your audacity. Your sidekick lets out a startled noise, jumping at the sudden popping. Bakugou’s sidekick has his hand on his temple, attempting to rub out the headache forming at this mess.

Why did you two have to hate each other so much?

The two sidekicks stand stiffly against the wall as you shove by them, Bakugou glaring at your ass as your hips swing around the doorway, out of his sight.

It’s late, the purple sky littered with the lights of the lively city. The villain you— or Bakugou, you suppose— had taken down earlier had been the last job of the day and you’re tired of the stupid bullshit he always serves you when the two of you work together.

Usually your agency kept the two of you on opposite boundaries of the patrol area, but you had begrudgingly needed help with this last offender of the day. Your quirk didn’t do incredibly well against villains with close-combat styles, but you could still manage. Unfortunately, the guy that had been causing mayhem earlier was beyond powerful up close, and he had landed a hit that knocked the wind out of you and made you slower than usual. It wasn’t a major injury or anything, but you’d probably have a nasty bruise on your torso after you took off this goddamn gimp-suit of a costume. Luckily, you had visited the in-house, agency healer in the infirmary upon arrival from the job, and they had sucked the nasty welt off your skin and redirected it somewhere else as their quirk allowed. The pain subsided mostly, just a bit sore where the bruise would’ve been.

You close the door to your office gently, a heavy sigh releasing as you make your way toward the desk. It was almost quitting time, but you still had to finish up the paperwork from the other case you had dealt with this morning. Clicking on the desk lamp, you breathe in to calm your frayed nerves, eyes closing briefly as you try to find the energy to finish your work.

The door bursts open, slamming almost immediately and tearing you out of your attempt at meditation. Bakugou stands in there, steam practically billowing from his nose and scarlet eyes flashing with agitation.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snarls, prowling toward you with an accusatory, gloved finger raised.

“Excuse me?” You quip, irritation revitalized almost instantly. “Who do you think you are, storming into my office after the shit you pulled today?”

He stops in front of you, glowering down at you. You turn your face slightly, your eye level meeting his chest and not wanting to look at that. He was kind of muscular up close like this, you’d never noticed because you’d always created the most distance as possible between you two.

“Oh, you mean me saving your ass? Yeah, my bad, woman,” he growls, letting his gaze linger on the way your eyelashes kiss your cheek bones as you scoff, eyes closed in annoyance.

You glare at him, infuriated. “I didn’t need your fucking help! Did I ask you to come?”

He takes his time to reply, stare holding your attention briefly before he licks his lips. “No, but your sidekick did.”

The sentence is like a cold slap to the face, and you push him backwards with newfound anger. “Don’t fucking lie to me Bakugou,” you seethe, hands clenched into fists. “If you’re gonna lie at least come up with something believable!”

“Tch. She did call me, brat, and she begged me to come to your rescue like you were a goddamn damsel in distress,” he grunts, breaking eye contact with you as he hunches slightly, strong hands shoved into his pockets. Bristling at the refreshed anger rippling off of you, he already knows what you’re going to say. “She said that shitty villain got his hands on you, yeah right you had it under control.”

You don’t know what to say. You can’t really refute that the assailant had managed to hurt you, but you still wish Bakugou hadn’t heard that information. The asshole already thinks he’s the hottest shit in the agency, you really don’t want to give him any evidence of your weaknesses. So you sit on the edge of your desk, sighing once again. “I can handle one hit, dipshit,” you mutter. “It’s already healed anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can take care of yourself,” he grumbles, gaze flickering to your grim expression before he looks intently at the picture on your wall.

The silence that ensues is uncomfortable. You had never really talked to Bakugou before-- usually every time the two of you were together you were having a shouting match, throwing insults back and forth relentlessly. You aren’t really sure how to reply, and you absolutely did not want to acknowledge that he had come to your rescue when you actually needed him.

Bakugou is as silent as you are. He wonders where you’d been hit momentarily, before pushing off the thought because god forbid he show emotions. He’d already had his fill of feelings for the day. He sure as hell would never tell a soul, but the second he had seen your sidekick’s name flash across his phone screen this evening, his stomach dropped like he’d been the one to receive the villain's punch, not you. Shoving away the intrusive thought, his trademark scowl surfaces to his face.

“You know, I still haven’t heard a ‘thank you’.”

His irritating voice slices through the tension in the room, and you bristle at his impudence. “Gee, Ground Zero,” he ruffles at his hero name, a frown bending his thin lips,” thanks so much for stealing my job and taking the credit for it too, and really— thank you so much for the paperwork as well. I’m just so grateful.”

“Tch. Don’t be so bitchy, you know I saved your ass today so just fess up and thank me already. You’ll feel better once you spit it out,” he provokes, thick arms crossing over his chest.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, scowling at his smug face. The snarl that breaks his lips is ignored as your eyes turn to slits directed toward him.

He laughs at your malicious look, mouth transforming into a sleazy grin. He can’t stop himself even though he’s a tad hesitant, but his bold and loud nature wins out and he says cooly, “I just might.”

You gape at him, the smile on his mouth escalating your agitation. “W-What?” You choke out meekly, palms pushing you off the desk to stand upright.

He has the gall to grin, taking a step toward you. His heavy boots clunk against the floor, and you move backwards only to bump into the desk again. You cast a futile glare at the desk, and when you look back at him, he’s looming over you. “I think it’s time we acknowledge this thing we have, (Y/H/N).”

Your lips part in surprise, the blush tainting your cheeks slightly. “I have no idea what you’re referring to,” you stammer. Your arms crossing over your chest, he can’t help but notice how your breasts squish upwards, cleavage visible through your skin-tight costume.

“I think you do,” he chuckles with a low voice, gaze regarding the pink pigment gracing your cheeks. He savors it, lips curling into a smirk. His hands meeting the edge of your desk as he leans in, his body brushes against your arms. You rear back, shock evident on your face with lips parted as he tips his head to the side. He cages you in, an unfamiliar look simmering in his crimson irises. “You can feel the tension between us too. I know it, Princess.”

You’re once again at a loss for words. What the hell is happening right now? You think, mind reeling desperately to change the subject. “I hate it when you call me that,” you spit out, looking up to catch his intense stare. It wasn’t dishonest, you hated his pet name for you. Just because you weren’t as careless as him, he’d tacked the snide nickname to you awhile back because he knew it pissed you off. “It’s a stupid name that only your idiot brain could come up with.”

Take the bait, please take the bait.

“The way you treat me like I’m beneath you, what else can I call you?” His breath fans against your cheek and you hate to admit it’s fresh and minty, not at all as nasty and troll-like as you’d convinced yourself it would be. “But I guess that’s ‘cuz you really wouldn’t mind having me under your lap, right?”

You gasp at his crude suggestion, knees smacking together as your thighs clench automatically. “Fuck off, Bakugou,” your voice trembles slightly, your palms hesitantly landing on his chest. Your attempt to push him is less than half-hearted, and he smiles at your crumbling resolve.

His fingers skim along the small of your back, perching his hand on your waist. You can feel its warmth through your costume and his glove, and your body bends into his hold on its own accord, your ass pushing back while your chest grazes his. He exhales harshly, his other hand docking on the top of your stiffened thigh, thumb falling into the curve between your legs. You wish it was higher up, and the recognition of your craving makes your blush a few shades darker.

“What was that?” He snickers, lips brushing your earlobe as his nose pushes away your cascading hair. He didn’t expect you to smell so good after a long day of fighting crime.

Your fingers grab onto his costume, clawing at the material and you’re not sure if it’s in anger or desire. But Bakugou is sure, his fingers rubbing your waist as he glances at your restless hold on his costume. “Oh, bite me,” you spit out, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

His lips touch your jaw, and you can feel the sneer that rests so prominently there. “Manners, Princess… say please,” he chides, tongue poking out to trace the soft skin there.

A quiet moan escapes you and Bakugou groans loudly in response. He draws his face back to lock eyes with you, stare taught with the tension the two of you have built over all this time.

“You gonna tell me you’ve never thought about us fucking?” He inquires, eyes darting to your lips and returning to your gaze. “All those times we riled each other up, every time we pushed each other’s buttons over and over— you gonna say you never thought about getting me to shut the hell up by any means necessary?”

Your eyes roll in your head, from a combination of lust and disbelief. You cannot believe you're letting him hold you like butter in his hot hands, melting you and licking you up. You glare at him, his lips just close enough to distract you. You weren’t going to let him mould you like putty anymore. “I bet you wanna think that I have, Bakugou,” you whisper, and he looks at you with mild surprise adorning his handsome face. Your blush infects him immediately, a flush spreading over his own cheeks and he’s suddenly very glad his costume has a mask. “You think I haven’t noticed you checking me out every second of the day, Boom-Boy?”

He seems at a loss for words as your wrists wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down and level to yours. His brow bursts into a sweat as one of your hand curls around his costume’s throat piece, trailing south and following the delicious line between his pecs down his abs. Your fingernails scraping through his costume, his skin prickles as he gasps. Your lips meet his stubbled jaw, mirroring the action he had performed to you a moment ago. His fingers tighten their hold on you, his body jerking almost invisibly at the contact. “You ogle at me much more, little Miss Priss,” he says cockily even though his voice sounds forced.

It was your turn to curl your lips into a sultry smile, half-lidded eyes regarding his shocked, eager stare. “I thought I told you not to tell your phony lies, Bakugou,” your murmur against his jawline, hand curving around his pelvis and to drag down his outer thigh. “It’s a sin to lie, you know.” Your fingers skim the very ridge of the bulge in his pants, teasingly tracing the outline and watching him close his eyes, his grin seeming strained.

“You know a lot about sins, then?” he pants, sliding his hand down from your waist slowly, fingertips stretching eagerly to push into your plush ass.

You nip at his skin playfully, and he shudders in response. Your raise your head to meet his hungry gaze, your coy smile still beaming. “I might… You want me to demonstrate my knowledge?” Your tongue parts your lips, eyes falling to his slightly agape mouth. Your breath tangles, and his eyelids flutter shut as your lips graze.

The hand on your thigh grips your flesh tighter and you whimper, your mouth tingling at the harder contact of the kiss. His other hand slides south and cups your tailbone, calloused fingers bringing your ass toward him. The sudden movement surprises you, and you grab onto his neck, making his chin dip down as your hips slide into his crotch. You clash into him, your lips colliding as sparks fly through the air.

You both moan into each other’s mouths, the kiss desperate and hot. Your tongue pokes out to probe his bottom lip and he gladly receives your wet muscle with his own. Your legs trapped between his shuffle as you wiggle your hips, savoring his fiery hands gliding over your figure.

Bakugou’s hands are firm but warm, caressing your waist and hips and heating them up. He growls as your hips buck against his, rubbing the tent in his baggy pants. One of his hands slides along the smooth fabric of your hero suit, cupping the swell of your breast in his large palm as his thumb runs over your nipple. You throw your head back, and his lips gladly blaze the trail of your throat with a scorching urgency. Your fingers move to his arm pieces, clamoring at the top of the machinery near his elbows. He gladly slides the gadgets off, placing them in one of the chairs facing your desk while he rips off his black gloves. He hastily throws the neck piece onto the seat as well before he turns and captures your lips once more.

When his fingers return to your hips, you can feel the true heat of his burning palms through your bodysuit, making you arch into him wantonly. His tongue battles yours fiercely, both of you fighting for dominance as his hands glide up to your waist and fumble with your belt. You can feel his rigid muscles through his thin tank top, your hands wandering greedily underneath the right material to touch his smooth skin.

Bakugou smirks as your belt falls onto the desk, hands falling and grabbing onto your ass cheeks eagerly, pulling you closer to his body. You take the chance to shove your tongue into his mouth and he groans at the impact, jaw slackening as he allows your tongue to take control. He grinds into you slowly, making your thighs tremble with apprehension. His mouth detaches from yours, and the string of saliva connecting your tongues is sliced as his shirt flies through the air. You drink in the sight of his naked chest, muscles swelling and flexing, tapering down into a delicious V that disappears underneath his belt.

You grab the belt, yanking his body close to yours again and sighing as your lips meet once more. “You’re really man-handling me Princess,” he comments amusedly into your lips as your fingers grapple with his belt, toying with the latch.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and harnessing a moan from him,” and touch me already, pussy.”

His vermillion gaze ignites, mouth crashing onto yours as his fingers slide underneath the swell of your ass. He lifts you like you’re but a paperweight, and you moan as your legs wrap around his hips. His tongue crushing yours, his kisses so intense that your head leans back at the sizzling force. You jump slightly as your ass meets the cushion of your desk chair, eyes opening to see he’d rounded the desk and knelt in front of you. His knees on the ground, he looks up at you haughtily, hands coasting slowly down your legs toward your center. “Is this where you want me?” he feigns innocence and you glare down at him. His thumb hooks the crotch of your leotard, and he shoves the material to the side roughly, making you gasp.

The cool office air greets your cunt, making it throb even more in arousal. “Bakugou,” you whine as he watches your face, shifting your hips in a feeble attempt to catch his attention. He slinks down, lips brushing over your panties softly as he watches you squirm. He grins against the black lace, thumb curling around the skinny part of the thong over your asshole, making you shiver.

“You’re right Princess,” he grumbles, tongue gliding over the wet spot that had leaked through the material, inhaling your scent pervertedly as he closes his eyes in triumph. Your bottom lip is prisoner to your teeth again as you watch his teasing movements, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Sometimes when you’ve got me all riled up, I jerk off thinking about how good your bratty little ass would look bouncing on my dick.” You can’t help but whimper at his confession, rolling your hips against his mouth in desperation.

He smirks up at you, crimson irises glittering with savory mischief. His hands snake around your thighs, clutching onto the junction they meet your hips with vigor. He pushes your body down into the seat so you can’t wriggle any longer, and he feels your cunt clench against his chin when he nips at your panties, teeth dragging along your clit. You wail his name again lowly, harsh breaths ripping through your lungs.

He growls in response, thumb ripping the lace to the side and exhaling at the sight of your swollen cunt, grin broadening at the excessive glaze that he had caused. “Fuck,” he laments, tongue poking out to graze your clit experimentally. Satisfied with the way your hand flies to cover your mouth, he places a teasing kiss there. “You know,” he murmurs against your slick nerve,” More than once I’ve wondered how hot and sweet your cunt must be, hiding underneath this skimpy little leotard.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyebrows cinching as you glower down at him, meeting his pleased gaze. “Why don’t you find out for yourself then?” you hiss, baring your teeth at his infuriatingly proud smirk.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Princess?” Bakugou’s tongue glides along the side of your slit, making you stiffen and shut your eyes tightly. Of course he’s a fucking tease.

A knock sounds at your door to pull you out of your collapsing mind, and you sit up straight, eyes wide as Bakugou’s sidekick peeks into the room.

Bakugou stills, unsure as to who it is, staying hidden behind your desk and still holding your hips harshly.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen Ground Zero possibly? He’s stormed off as usual and I can’t find him anywhere,” the sidekick says, blinking at you with unsuspecting eyes.

“Oh, H-Hikaru,” you gulp, hesitantly placing your hands on your desk. Bakugou is quiet underneath you but you’re preparing yourself for the little shit to pull something stupid.

And he does.

Bakugou’s tongue slips between your folds suddenly, licking a large stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit, sucking in your clit and rolling his tongue around it brazenly.

“Oh my god!” you yell, hand slapping over your mouth too late. Hikaru looks at you incredulously, regarding your pink cheeks and sweaty forehead. “I can’t believe him! W-what an asshole!” you pant as Bakugou sucks harder, your pussy clenching onto itself. “He probably left so you’d do the paper… mmm, paperwork for h-him.” You abs are flexed so hard, straining in order to restrain the mess of moans that Bakugou is summoning.

Hikaru finds your tone a bit peculiar, but he continues anyway. “Uh, probably… Are you okay Y/N? You look kind of… sick,” he comments, head tilting to the left. “Did you get that jab checked out yet? I can take you to the infirmary if you want. If it’s bad I can drop you off at your place, too.”

Bakugou doesn’t like that suggestion. He doesn’t need to lick his fingers, your drenched core welcomes the digits instantly. Your walls accommodate his middle and ring finger eagerly and he smirks as they sink into you, knuckle-deep.

“Yes!” you shriek, quickly shooting a glare down at the blonde, your hair covering your face from his sidekick. “I mean— yes, I had it checked out and I’m f-fine, thank you for the concern, Hikaru,” you explain, a forced smile on your lips as you silently beg him to leave.

Bakugou stretches his fingers inside you, scissoring them to coat them in your essence before he puts them together again. His wrist strained in the forced position, he flicks the digits back and forth, almost laughing in glee as he recognizes that soft velvety spot deep within you.

Hikaru blinks at you again before he nods half-heartedly. “Okay… Well if you need me, I’ll be in the conference room doing Bakugou’s job,” he laughs, tucking out of the door and closing it finally.

“He wishes he could do my job, fucker,” Bakugou grunts, mouth immediately returning to satiating your needy hole.

You sag into the chair, a quiet moan floating out of you as Bakugou continues to finger you, his lips slurping up your clit once more. Shooting a heated look at him, you bare your teeth at him, and choke out a hiss,” Fuck you!”

Bakugou only chuckles, savoring the way your cunt throbs around his digits. “I didn’t think you were so impatient, brat.” He doesn’t slow his actions though, knuckles ramming against your skin. He enjoys the way you gasp as he moves your thigh over his shoulder, his tidy fingernails pressing into your trembling leg. “You taste pretty good, Y/N. I guess it’s just your personality that’s bitter,” he remarks, smiling against your sex as his fingers slide out of you.

You toss him a pointed look as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand. “Excuse you, Boom-Boy,” you chide,” only my friends get to call me that!”

“Tch, I get to eat your pussy but I can’t call you by your name? You really know how to make a guy work for it,” he scoffs, sounding mock-hurt, and now menacing over you.

You frown in response but it quickly melts into a smirk. “Don’t worry, Katsuki,” you observe how he closes his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching as his hand turns into a fist,” I’ll return the favor.” You tentatively place your hands on his belt, undoing the clasp and resting the heel of your palm against his clothed, hard cock. You gently undo the fastenings around his thick thighs, placing the belt with his grenades onto your desk cautiously. You weren’t trying to be blown up just for some dick.

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of both his black pants and underwear, annoyed with you taking your sweet ass time. His bare cock springs free, greeting your hungry gaze with an inviting sheen of sticky precum trailing down his hard length. You gawk at the sight, genuinely surprised to find he was so… well equipped.

“So this is why you’re so cocky, huh?” you state, eyes following the protruding vein running the entirety of his full, flushed member.

He barks out a laugh which dies in his throat as you press a chaste kiss to his weeping pink tip. Your tongue flat against your bottom lip, you slide his cock into your mouth and moan at the salty, provocative taste of him. His length almost as thick as your throat itself, you gag gently as you take him whole into your mouth before quickly pulling back. You place your hand around the base of his now-slick cock, your mouth sucking and bobbing on the top half of him as you jerk your fist at the same tempo.

Bakugou is much louder than you expected him to be, and the way his erotic, serrated breath is tearing from his lungs makes your pussy clench in desire. His chest heaves, the bulging muscles on his torso tense underneath his surprisingly smooth skin. Your other hand wanders up his abs, enjoying the way the ridges between them are so defined. He growls as your finger rubs over his nipple, his hand catching your wrist in a tight grasp but not doing anything to stop the action.

You purr on his cock, slippery hand leaving the base to cup his balls, eliciting a hiss from him as he sucks air in between his gnashing teeth. Confidence torrenting through your veins at his reaction, your jaw drops as wide as you can muster, your mouth gliding further down his length.

Bakugou’s empty hand collects the hair falling around your face, holding it for you as you weave back and forth. His jaw falls slack as the head of his dick rubs the back of your throat, summoning a soft gag that makes your mouth vibrate around him. Your wrist hurts a little from his tight grasp, but the way his fingernails dig into your skin makes your core shiver in delight. “Shit, Y/N.”

You don’t bother to correct him this time, thumb running over his balls just hard enough to make him shake a bit, savoring the way he is panting and quaking before you. The hand grasping your hair nimbly shimmies closer to your skull, his fingers twisting almost too tightly onto the roots of your hair. You allow him to coax your mouth closer, his arm guiding your face to take his length deeply. A low growl tears from the bottom of his lungs as you lock eyes with his impassioned stare. His hips nudge smally against your lips, his tongue poking out to run over his lip as he pulls back and glides back inside your sweltering throat.

You moan forcefully, savoring the the strangled noise that slithers from his now gaping mouth. Taking initiative once more, you begin to jerk your neck back and forth quickly, wincing as his grip tightens on your wrist. Bakugou tries his best to repress his moans but the way your bratty throat welcomes his hard cock makes him see tiny, fizzling explosions when he closes his eyes.

His hips rear back, and you almost fall off the chair as you lean in to close the distance. He catches you easily, hot hands landing on your shoulders as his gaze locks with yours, inexplicable desire sizzling between the two of you. His hands fly down to collect your ass cheeks, and he picks you up just to place the apple of your cheeks on the desk behind him. Teetering on the edge of the wooden furniture, your legs wrap around his waist, and his lips slam onto yours again. His fingers frantically running over your super suit, he snarls in frustration when he can’t find the zipper.

You laugh at him mockingly, catching his eye as you pinch the zipper on the side of your neck, the material shrinking away immediately with elasticity. He watches as your breasts pop out of the silky, neoprene-like fabric, bouncing with hardened, pink nipples standing perkily to greet him.

“No bra?” He reprimands but his time sounds more turned on than accusatory. “Princess, you’re so naughty.” His hands fly to your tits, groping the soft and supple flesh with fervor. You unzip the rest of your side, pulling your arms out of the sleeves and carefully angling your hips so you can slide the suit off into a crumpled pile on the ground. In just your tiny little thong now, Bakugou closes the gap, pressing flush against your clothed center and grinding his wet cock against your damp underwear.

Your head tilts back and you whine, gasping as his mouth slides along your throat, hot tongue caressing the tender skin. “Please, Bakugou,” you wail, his thumbs rubbing your sensitive nipples hastily.

“God, you must be tight if you’re this high-strung,” he purrs next to your ear, enjoying the way your cunt clenches noticeably underneath your panties. Speaking of those… his fingers snatch the delicate lace to the side, his other hand grabbing his dick and running his swollen tip over your slit. He dips the head into your hole but recedes instantly, brushing it over your glistening trove before repeating the action. The teasing has your head spinning, harsh pants falling from you both and mingling in the thin divide between you. He can’t take it any longer, his hips snapping into yours as his dick easily disappears halfway into your steamy, aching cunt. “I fucking knew it,” he grunts, jaw clenching as your velvety walls embrace his girth, your cry of pleasure music to his ears. “Your cunt is so snug around my cock.”

His hips push into your thighs further, only stopping once he’s balls-deep, sunk completely in your flittering sex. Hand leaving your thong to the side of your cunt, he grabs your hip and pulls your ass close. You groan at his cock nestling even deeper into your sopping hole, and your hips jerk against his as his hand curls around your lower back, securing itself so his fingers coil snugly around your waist. You choke on a sob as he thrusts into you again, his thick member prodding you in a very private place.

“You better fuck me already,” you growl at his pace that was testing your nerves, ready to be fucked into submission. Not that you were going to go down without a fight.

He chuckles cockily, a sly grin on his lips. “Your wish is my command.” His hips slam against yours and your teeth sink into his shoulder, muffling a scream of desire. He ruts into you with ease, your arousal making it almost effortless for his cock to spread the tense walls of your desperate pussy. His free hand claps against the swell of your ass, the noise slicing through the air and you scowl at him. It’s like he wants to be caught.

Ragged breaths tumble from the both of you, your saliva trickling down his chest as your teeth are still fastened into his broad shoulder. “F-Fuck, Bakugou,” you keen, each time his pelvis pressing against you tightly forcing your vision to shake.

“Katsuki,” he huffs, his left hand pushing your chin up to capture your half-lidded gaze. “Say it, Princess— fuck, tell me who’s making you feel so good,” he demands, eager to hear his name leave your lips in such an intimate way once more. His hips change tempo from his fast and hard pace to a slower, more sensual rolling motion, milking the desired reaction out of you.

The novel movement pressing deliciously against your clit, your unabashed whimpers fall onto his eager ears.  Your fingers raise to pinch the top of his black eye mask, pushing the material up over his forehead so it tucks his ash blonde hair back. Looking into his eyes and admiring his uncovered, handsome features, you shoot him a sinful pout. “Ka— ah! Oh, Katsuki,” you gasp, your hands flying up to claw desperately at his muscular back.

Bakugou relishes in your lewd reply, eyes rolling back into his skull in delight. He lets out a gravely groan, increasing the tempo to a needy, impatient pace. The extra stimulation on your clit makes your legs shiver around him, your heels digging into the plush top of his ass. His hand slides back to grip around the back of your neck, leaning in to take the side of your ear between his teeth. His fingers on your throat press into your skin, his thumb pushed into your racing pulse. Hand squeezing just the right amount, it becomes pleasurably harder to breathe and you pant, tongue poking out as you wanton gaze meets his. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard Y/N,” he growls, almost snarling at you as your body bounces against his, watching your hair dance and shake around the erotic expression on your face.

“Eat shit,” your nose twitches in annoyance,” You’re gonna burst any minute now.” Your cheeks are dusted in a telling flush, your body feeling heat spread throughout. His hand tightens on your throat and you moan, loving the way your breath tears slightly.

“You’ve been clenched down on me this whole time,” he reasons, lips close enough so you can feel his ragged breath. “You can’t deny how your body reacts to me, even if you don’t want it to.”

You roll your eyes. Even buried between your legs at a time like this, he insists on pushing your buttons. “Oh, you want me to clench, Katsuki?” you inquire, tone confident in contrast to the wanton shake of your body. 

He shivers as his name leaves your sinful lips, and the breath in his lungs is sucked out of him as you clamp your pussy as tight as you can around him. His hips stutter and you revel in the lustful way his face contorts, his eyes screwing shut temporarily.

When his vermillion eyes open again, his predatory gaze adding wood to the fire between your legs. “Bad girl,” he admonishes, an unruly grin lifting the corners of his mouth. His hips slam against yours, railing into you at an unimaginable speed and harshness. “That’s a cute try, Princess, but you’re gonna cum before me no matter what.”

You can’t even respond as he thrusts into you, your pants ripping through the air and mingling with the quick slapping noise echoing through the room. You hate to let him win but you can’t hold yourself off from your impending orgasm, the pressure in your core multiplying at an alarming rate as each thrust deliciously stimulates your deepest, most secret place.

“Katsuki,” you whimper, your spine arching into his touch while his hand keeps its hold on your throat. “I’m so close, please,” you beg, your toes curling forcefully as your eyes roll back.

Bakugou smiles at your submissive tone, purring out, “That’s better.” His hand leaving your throat to rub his finger on your clit, your body trembles in his hands. He leans into you and his lips conquer yours passionately, tongue darting in between your lips to caress with yours. His tongue pulls back as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, his wolfish stare daring you to follow his ensuing command. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

Your body tenses as you reach your climax, but Bakugou continues to assault your g-spot mercilessly. Your arms shake in euphoria, nails pressing in to form desperate scratches on his skin. It feels like he is snapping you in two, and you absolutely love it. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you wail out, relief washing over your limbs feeling like ice cold lemonade on a torrid summer day.

Pussy fluttering around his cock so deliciously, Bakugou moans at the new intensity. He swears as he keeps going, despite his own orgasm approaching. The image of you squirming in ecstasy underneath him makes him gasp immodestly. His hands clasp down on your hips roughly, making it even easier for him to pound into your soaked cunt as his teeth release your reddened lip. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he huffs, sweat glistening on his built chest as he thrusts into you particularly hard. “So much better than I could’ve ever imagined, holy shit, Princess.” He moans a little loudly, not holding anything back anymore. He is so fucking close.

“Katsuki, please,” you sob, your g-spot still being pummeled relentlessly, never getting a break from his assault and dragging your orgasm out longer than you thought possible. “I want your cum on me so bad!”

Bakugou throws his chin into the air, harsh breaths floating out as the flesh of your hips turns white under his oppressive grip. He grunts as he pulls out, his searing streaks of cum spurting out forcefully, shooting up to lace over your tits and down your stomach. His thighs tremble as he snarls, his first immediately jerking his cock as more of his cum gushes out of the tip. He gasps for breath, and he groans as your lips press to his captivatingly. He leans into your kiss, savoring the feeling of your sweet lips against his.

You shift in his hands, the once-rough palms now sliding over your skin carefully, fondling your body as his lips nibble at your own. You entertain it for a moment, nails trailing down his chest, thumbs rubbing into the ample muscles beneath his skin.

He pulls back, a lazy grin and satisfied eyes regarding you. “Well, that was hot,” he admits, eyebrow quirking upwards as he tries to even his choppy breath. You pull a handful of tissues out of the box on the corner of your desk, handing him a few which he gladly wipes over his drenched member. You sigh in content, head leaning back as you regulate your own breathing.

Bakugou makes you jump in surprise as he runs a new tissue along your torso, cleaning up his mess. You eye him playfully, secretly relishing in the way he is so considerate. He shuffles back a step like he can feel you appreciating his uncharacteristically caring actions, tugging up his underwear and tucking himself in with a smug grin on his lips.

“It was pretty good,” you say casually, sliding off the desk and pausing as your still-tingling core shifts, making you realize how tender you already are.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, handing you your costume from the floor. You snatch it out of his grasp condescendingly, glaring at him as you step into the leotard with quivering legs. “Pretty good?” he barks, eyeing your slow movements. “You’re still shaking, Princess.”

You shoot a glare at him, arms slipping into your costume and tucking your breasts away from his lingering eyes. “Fuck you.”

“You just did.” He replies smugly, and you ponder relieving the sudden urge you have to slap the look off his face.

“Whatever, Boom-Boy,” you quip, zipping up the side of your suit.

Bakugou chortles as he pulls on his shirt, fastening the loops around his thighs. “By the way,” he looks sideways at you with a smirk. “You came first, so I won.”

“You were, like, ten seconds behind me,” you scoff.

“After you, nonetheless,” he almost chirps, savoring in the irritation visibly building in you. He slips on his gloves, sliding his arms into his grenade-looking arm pieces. “Do I get a prize, Princess?”

You glance at his suggestive crimson eyes, pondering the idea of it. “You can choose the place next time,” you wink at him, clipping the belt on your waist with finality.

He seems pleased with the answer, his smirk widening as he steps closer to you. Your fingers pinch the bottom of his mask, dragging the material down to its correct location over his eyes. He shamelessly allows his gaze to rove over your body, recalling how tight and needy you’d been just minutes ago.

“Next time, I’m gonna make you beg,” he warns, opening the door and slipping through, seductive gaze locking with yours. “Can’t wait ‘til then, Y/H/N.”

And after that, working together became a whole lot easier.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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