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waynes-multiverse · 2 days ago

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Already so in love with the start of this chapter! A girl who can eat is a girl after my heart 🫶 (and apparently Russell's lol)

“Good god. You have never been more attractive to me, which is saying something.” You slurped again, Russell letting his curiosity in your eating habits fade away in favor of the elephant in the room.

Girl, you and I have the same headcanon about this! He needs someone with super weird food habits 😂🫶

And I loved her then suddenly trying to get rid of him and coming up with the lamest excuse in the book before threathening him lol. Glad he saw right through that! And this made me melt 🫠:

“Forget I said anything.” You stood up, Russell matching the movement and catching your bicep before you could take a step. Yes, he was injured but even one armed, he had enough raw strength in him to keep you from leaving. “Tell me or I dig on my own and make things a lot riskier for both of us.” He dropped his hand, nodding to the seat. Russell sighed. “I trusted you. You can do the same.”

Oh, and it is a mafia thing! 👀 Phew, that's a tough job for Russell (not that I doubt his abilities, but she is right – he's only one man. You're not planning on breaking my heart, are you? 😅)

“Like my home?” He stared blankly, eyes drifting down to your chest. “The flirting was cute. Eye-fucking me in my kitchen, not so much.” “You have sauce all over your shirt.”

Oh, he got real lucky there, didn't he? He must've loved this 😂😂

“Because knowing how to get stains out of all types of fabrics is kind of necessary in my line of work,” he said, opening a few cabinets before finding the one with the plates. “Now. Can you put the knife you thought you grabbed without me seeing back and we have a civilized conversation over pizza?”

I'm so in love with this characterization of him here! Behind all the goofiness and bad flirting still hides that smart killing machine, and you portray that so well throughout their entire conversation 🖤

I love reading more of her backstory, and obviously Russell can relate since he grew up similarily. I see some romance brewing and bonding happening here 😍

You’re going to park in the visitors lot and go to the airstream in lot 4. It’ll be isolated. You knock on the door and there’ll be a guy inside. Colter. You stay with him, go wherever he goes and do whatever he tells you to without question. You don’t leave his side until I come and get you, understand?”

Knowing her, I don't see this working out well for Colter. Poor guy will have his hands full with her 😂

You woke up around six thirty, jolting up in your bed to find a very wet and nearly naked Colter trying to pick up a mug he’d dropped. “Well good morning,” you said, his hand in a death grip on the towel just barely concealing him away.

I don't mind this at all 😏

The commitment to him being shirtless on this show is for real, tho 🫠 (And PS: I saw you wrote for Colter too! I totally have to check that out! Justin Hartley had me in a chokehold since This Is Us. He rows right into the "lovable and stupidly hot idiot" category that I've fallen victim to lol.)

And not only did she bond with Russell in this part but also with Colter. Seriously loved every minute of their conversation! And considering Russell sent her to his brother, who he hasn't spoken to in so long, speaks volumes how much he trusts Colter. Colter seeing that too was such a precious moment 😭🫶

Sure, Colter was hot but Russell…well the image of that man in nothing but a towel as water dripped down his body…

Agree! The ruggedness and roughness (the beard) certainly adds a few plus points 🔥😏

“And? What am I saying?” you asked, staring him down.

I was gonna say, she should be careful with that challenge, and his answer did not disappoint! It was gold 🤣🤣🤣

And I totally didn't expect her to stay with Colter for days, drive across the country, and join him on a case! This is such a cool twists and I'm loving their hangout dynamic 😁 I do have an inkling Russell will be jealous of their bonding and probably scold Colter for taking her on a case lmao

“He knows what he’s doing. A job like this, he’s got to do a lot of prep work and he’s got to put a crew together. Trusted friends. Try not to worry.”

Ooooh I know you read the books and this reminded me so much of the crew book!Russell worked with!!! 👏

I was so relieved when he came back in one piece! And that little present for her was so sweet and thoughtful 🥹 The note, on the other hand, was hilarious 😂

But why the angst at the end there? No they were supposed to be happy! Sunset, rainbows, unicorns, glitter!!! I will suffer in the next part, won't I? 😅

This was such an amazing chapter from start to finish! I thoroughly enjoyed all their conversations, their dynamics, the humor mixed with seriousness and feelings. Loved every second of this! 🩵

He's My Man (Part 2)

Summary: The reader isn't quite so sure if she can trust Russell with her secrets but he's decided she's going to get his help, whether she wants it or not. Reluctantly she accepts but in the process realizes she might actually be starting to care about him...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 4,500ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, mentions of death, angst, fluff

A/N: Ooooh things are heating up! Please enjoy!

__________

Russell stared at you with what one could only describe as a look of wonder. You didn’t exactly blame him. Eating four large cheese danishes and chugging back a week’s worth of coffee in the span of fifteen minutes was enough to make anyone’s eyes widen.

You tossed your trash in his motel waste bin when you finished and returned to your seat at the tiny corner table. With an obnoxiously loud slurp of even more coffee, Russell titled his head, shaking it slightly.

Your fingertips rattled against the side of the large styrofoam cup, a small amount of heat radiating through. Now that you’d had some time to think, or rather stress eat, you knew this was a mistake. A big one. You needed to kick Russell out of your life and the sooner the better.

“I think you have the wrong idea about what’s going on and I thought it better we talk in private,” you said. Russell wore a weary expression, his eyes dissecting your every micro-movement. “I’m not interested in a relationship or a date or conversation. I don’t do that considering my line of work and I imagine you keep things casual with yours. So you take your money and consider this a warning. Contact me again and I will have you dealt with, understand?”

Russell leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a clenched jaw. You narrowed your eyes in response, Russell picking at his bandage without realizing.

“Stop that,” you mumbled when he kept doing it, his lip twitching up in a not so friendly way.

“You threaten me and in the next breath are worried about my damn stitches? I don’t think you realize just how good I am at my job,” he said, placing both hands on the table, folding them together. You swallowed, Russell staring so intently you had to glance away. “Alright. Back at the coffee shop, that was a moment of bravery and now it’s passed? Tough shit. We’re in the weeds now and we ain’t leaving until I know you do your job of your own free will. Understand?”

“Tell me or I dig on my own and make things a lot riskier for both of us.” He dropped his hand, nodding to the seat. Russell sighed. “I trusted you. You can do the same.”

“You’re one guy.” You shook your head. “Drop this or you’ll wind up dead or worse.”

“I made my living doing jobs where if I fucked up I’d wish I were dead over the alternative. I know how to keep a secret. Maybe I can help, maybe I can’t. But you opened the box. You can’t just close it again.”

“Yes, I can. Goodbye, Russell.” You grabbed your coffee and headed for the door, pausing when you had a hand on the handle.

But what if he could help…he was ex-special ops…

Russell’s hand slid over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. You frowned, a reassuring smile greeting you.

“Do you like your job?” he asked.

“S’complicated,” you whispered.

“How complicated?”

“Jobs like yours…that’s up to me to do that stuff but I…I work for someone else.” You found Russell’s unreadable green eyes and sighed. “I’m a fixer for the local mafia. It’s not a job you get to quit and stay alive very long.”

Russell contemplated your words, lips forming a thin line before he nodded. “I can take care of that assuming your story checks out.”

“My story?” you asked, Russell humming. “Why would I lie-”

“You could be playing me for any number of reasons. Like I said, I’m going to check your story out and if it’s all kosher, we’ll figure out where to go from there. Capiche?”

“Fine,” you grit out, shaking his hand away. “But do it quietly. You got three days.”

Late Evening

Your eye actually twitched when you answered your front door that night to find not your pizza delivery man before you but Russell fucking Shaw. He wore a deep navy utility jacket that hung loosely around his trim waist and a pair of black jeans. You weren’t sure why but his shift from lighter colored clothing this morning to this dark, edgy look made him look as dangerous as you expected he was.

“Russell,” you said. He didn’t bother hiding his smirk, eyes roaming over your body. You glanced down at your soft pale yellow pajama shirt and matching shorts set, huffing when he slipped past you inside.

“You totally are the kind of woman to having matching jammies,” he chuckled. You gripped the door tight, ready to kick him out just as your delivery driver pulled up.

“Just…take off your boots.” Two minutes later you had your pizza and garlic knots on your kitchen counter while Russell leaned back against it, his jacket since removed and tossed on the back of your couch. He wore a black zip up that was undone over a black t-shirt, Russell shifting at your growing unease.

“Listen,” he said, holding up his hands. “You got questions but first off, I’m not here to hurt you. This is just what I wear when I need to go…looking around places I ain’t exactly invited into.”

“Like my home?” He stared blankly, eyes drifting down to your chest. “The flirting was cute. Eye-fucking me in my kitchen, not so much.”

“You have sauce all over your shirt.” You glanced down, spotting marinara drops all over your short sleeve button up top from where you’d had the edge of the pizza box pressed against your torso as you’d carried it in. “Thanks for thinking so highly of me, though. Makes a guy feel special.”

“I’m on edge, alright?” you snapped, grabbing a towel and trying to get most of the sauce out. “Plus I just ruined a two hundred dollar shirt.”

“Figured you for a oversized men’s t-shirts kind of gal but little sets from french boutiques suites you.” You froze, Russell dropping his hands. “I know all about your shopping habits. You have high quality taste, much richer than the average suburbanite.”

“And?” you said, tossing the towel down, hands going to your hips. “Are you about to kidnap me and turn me over to the mafia or what?”

Russell approached you slowly, gently picking up the towel from the floor and dabbing it with some dish soap.

“If I had wanted to hurt you or take you or whatever else is going through your head, you wouldn’t have seen me coming.” He rubbed the towel against the damp spot on your shirt, letting the fabric get soapy. “Let that soak for a few minutes and then after you have some dinner, toss it in the wash. It’ll come out good as new.”

“How do you know that?” you asked, Russell hanging your towel on the oven handle.

You weren’t sure how he’d seen you swipe the knife from the butchers block but figured he had a point. If he’d wanted to screw you over, he would have done it already. After excusing yourself, you returned in a pair of skinny black joggers and a slightly cropped gray AC/DC shirt to find Russell had already plated two sizeable portions for yourselves.

“See? Now that’s a look more fitting for the princess of darkness,” he chuckled.

“That’s queen of darkness to you,” you said, taking a seat at the island in front of one of the plates. “Do me a favor, lover boy. Grab me a guinness from the fridge.”

“Dark stout. Always a good choice.” He got out two, removing the cap for you before retreating to the other side of the island.

“As much as I love uninvited house guests who welcome themselves to my food and beer, why are you here, Russell?” You took a large bite of pizza, Russell long necking his beer for a moment.

“Yet I don’t see you kicking me out. It’s okay to admit you’ve fallen for me, Y/N,” he teased. You growled, Russell’s eyebrows raising in amusement. “Hot damn, woman. I love when you get all grr. Tells me you are a force to be reckoned with.”

You rolled your eyes, Russell taking an extra large bite. “Stop flirting and talk.”

“Why can’t I do both?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. “But to answer your original question, I’m here because your story checked out and that’s kind of a problem.”

“Excuse me? Why is that an issue?”

He set his plate down and gripped the island, leaning over it slightly. “Y/N. I can call up a few friends and wipe out a local mafia family no problem.”

“Awesome. Then what’s the fucking problem?” Russell tilted his head, like you’d just walked into some kind of trap he’d set.

“Y/N. Despite all the obvious sexual tension brewing between us, you failed to mention that you have a boyfriend. You know, the head of this fucking mafia family. The boyfriend that buys you those fancy french pajama sets? The one that bought that espresso machine over there? Girl, you better explain yourself because I am not a hired gun.”

You chewed quietly for a few moments under the heated scrutiny of Russell’s gaze before you pushed the plate away.

“My dad was an accomplished doctor. He was very well respected. I grew up very comfortably until I was about eight.” Russell loosened his stance and began to eat while you decided what he needed to absolutely know. “My dad unknowingly saved a mobster’s life one night in the ER. Mr. Lauter.”

“The former head of the mafia and this guy, Owen, your supposed boyfriend’s dad?” You nodded before taking a big swig from your bottle.

“Well, that pissed off Mr. Elpine who had almost had a successful hit on Mr. Lauter. Elpine tried to get my dad to kill Lauter. Dad refused and the next morning on the way to school, the brake lines in our car didn’t work. Dad and I walked away. Mom and my brother didn’t. Dad was scared Elpine would come after me again.”

“Your father went to Lauter for protection,” said Russell. You picked up your pizza as he put together the rest of the pieces. “Lauter offers him protection for saving his life but something happens and your dad ends up working for Lauter as his fixer.”

“The paranoia got to dad. He would take me on these weekend hunting trips all the time and teach me survival skills and medical stuff and I was a fucking kid, Russell. I didn’t want to do that shit but dad was…twitchy. PTSD for sure, a mental break too. I always guessed there was some brain trauma after the accident that never healed. He got real bad when I went to college. Bad enough that Lauter stepped in when my dad attacked me when I came home for the holidays. Lauter killed him and the fucked up part was I wasn’t even upset. My real dad had died when I was a kid. But…when a mob boss kills for you whether you wanted them to or not-”

“They think they own you for life.” You nodded. “So you became the fixer.”

“They let me finish college under the condition I come back and work for the family. They leave me be except for when I need to patch someone in the crew up. It’s honestly not that bad. They gave me a lot of money over the years. I hate to say this but Mr. Lauter was pretty good to me.”

Russell cleared his throat. “You do know how fucked up what he did to you is, right?”

“Of course I do,” you said, closing your eyes. “But compared to my dad and Owen, he was the lesser evil.”

“I came across the fact Mr. Lauter died about three weeks ago from heart disease.” You hummed. “Tell me about this fuckface, Owen.”

“Dude has had a crush on me since he was fucking twelve. He has it in his head that the family owns me, literally. Lauter always reined him in but since he’s been gone, Owen’s been…pushy. Telling the crew I’m his girlfriend, asking them to follow me. Thankfully, and this is why this is so weird, I grew up around a lot of the guys. Making me work and fix people, fine. But some kind of forced romance? They aren’t cool with it, at least they’re kind of ignoring Owen. I’ve kept Owen off my back because he’s grieving and busy trying to take over but he’s going to back on my ass soon. This time, those guys will have to listen to their new boss.”

“So…I take out Owen and you think you’re in the clear. You could have just said that.” He finished off his beer and washed his hands at the sink. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going grab essentials, and I mean essentials, while I pack up your dinner in what I expect is some color coordinated tupperware. Then you’re going to take my car and drive to Elmhurst Camping Grounds. It’s about four hours north of here and no, you will stop for anything so use the bathroom before you go and I’ll pack you a snack. You’re going to park in the visitors lot and go to the airstream in lot 4. It’ll be isolated. You knock on the door and there’ll be a guy inside. Colter. You stay with him, go wherever he goes and do whatever he tells you to without question. You don’t leave his side until I come and get you, understand?”

“I feel like if I ask questions you’ll just tell me I don’t want to know.” Russell smirked.

“I love that big brain of yours.” You rolled your eyes but felt a tiny smile on your face. “Warming up to me are we?”

“Fuck no. But uh, who the hell are you sending me to?”

“My baby brother. Don’t worry. His ugly mug will keep you safe.”

Four Hours Later

“Uh, hi,” you said, practically bouncing up and down at midnight in front of a strange tall man at a very nice airstream RV.

“Y/N,” he said as you forced a smile. “Bathroom is right there-”

You darted past him and into the small cubby bathroom, grateful after the long drive. The man was waiting leaned against a small counter space when you exited, a temporary bed made up behind him in what looked like a breakfast nook.

“Sorry to barge in. Russell said not to stop for anything.”

“S’alright,” he said. “Bed’s made up if you want to crash. I’m going to stay up a bit longer by the fire. You’re welcome to join if you like.”

“Thanks, uh…” you said, a very brief smile on his face as you tried to remember what Russell had called him.

“Colter. It’s not a problem.” He skirted by you and outside, taking a seat in a foldable camping chair. You had questions but for the moment, all you wanted was to get some rest.

You woke up around six thirty, jolting up in your bed to find a very wet and nearly naked Colter trying to pick up a mug he’d dropped.

“Well good morning,” you said, his hand in a death grip on the towel just barely concealing him away.

“Morning,” he said, slowly backing up to the bedroom. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Not a problem,” you said, catching a whiff of coffee.

“Mug are in the first cabinet if you want a cup. I’ll be out in a minute,” he said. He excused himself to his room and slid the divider shut, leaving you to the rest of the airstreamer.

A moment later you were outside in front of a small fire, sitting in a chair with warm coffee in your hands. It was cool and you wished you’d thought to pack a jacket in your haste last night.

You were rubbing your arms when something was draped over your shoulders, a thick heavy hoodie.

“Russell got you out of there pretty quick, huh?” asked Colter, taking the mug while you shrugged into the warm fleece.

“Yeah. All I grabbed was my wallet, some cash and my computer. He told me I could buy clothes here,” you said. Colter handed you back the mug and took a seat beside you.

“I checked his car. He had a duffel full of his clothes in there I brought inside. You can use his stuff, or mine, until we can hit a store.”

“Thanks,” you said, smelling Russell’s deodorant on the fabric. Colter saw you tug the hood up, a question on the tip of his tongue but he decided against it. The air was still and quiet apart from the crackle of fire and morning birds.

“So,” said Colter, not looking at you as he drank. “You and Russell…you like, his girlfriend-”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I just met the guy yesterday. All I did was patch him up.”

“Right.” You sunk lower in your chair, slurping loudly.

“Were you special ops like him?” you asked. Colter shook his head.

“Civilian. Never had any formal training, just what we grew up with.” Well, that was an interesting statement. What the hell did it mean though? “Our father was a survivalist, taught us things.”

“Oh. My dad was a little out there too.” Was that why Russell was so adamant about helping you out of your situation? No. Maybe it played a part, but no. He’d wanted to help before you told him that. “Does Russell do this sort of thing often?”

“No clue. First time I talked to him in years was two days ago. I helped him find a friend of his. I was there when he got that bullet hole in him you fixed.”

Alrighty then. Russell was becoming more and more intriguing by the second.

“So you don’t know a lot about him then,” you said. Colter shrugged.

“I guess I’m figuring him out too but he’s a good guy. He’s somebody you want as a friend.” You hummed, finishing your coffee off. Colter excused himself to get you more and returned with a fresh cup, steam billowing from within.

“You trail run?” you asked, Colter’s eyes showing a flash of surprise. “Muddy sneakers by the door. I did cross country in school.”

“I try to get out most mornings. The hot water should be good to go in about five minutes if you want a shower.”

“Thanks.” You licked your lips as you remembered the sight of him exiting the bathroom not long ago. Sure, Colter was hot but Russell…well the image of that man in nothing but a towel as water dripped down his body…You shifted in your seat, squeezing your legs together to try and get a hold of yourself. Colter smirked slightly in his seat. “What?”

“I’m good at reading people is all.”

“And? What am I saying?” you asked, staring him down. Colter only smiled as he looked away to the fire.

“You’re wondering if Russell works out and picturing him naked.” You glared at him but it did nothing to hide the heat radiating off your cheeks. “Hey, you’re a grown woman. You can do as you please.”

“I think I will take that shower now.” You stood and set the mug down on the ground, shooting Colter one last look. There’d been no malice or teasing in his voice. He was simply being straight with you. “Listen. I just…I haven’t exactly been around good guys much, or ever. I’m not saying there’s anything there beyond physical attraction, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, looking at you like you were the worst liar in the world. “Whatever you say.”

You grumbled and went inside to take a very cold shower.

Three Days Later - Spokane, Washington

“Hey, Colt,” you said, pushing up the long sleeves of Russell’s gray henley you wore. Colter hummed around the piece of grilled chicken in his mouth as you spun your laptop around from the other side of the airstream’s dining table. “Could she have gone here? Looks like a decommissioned game trail.”

“Yeah, yeah that fits,” he said with his mouth full, chewing and swallowing quickly so he could take a closer look. You returned to your own dinner, Colter mentioning he was going to take a look after dark.

Things had fallen into an easy pattern with the two of you. Colter was very different than his brother but it wasn’t a bad thing. He didn’t talk much and worked as a rewardist. He’d planned on sticking around the east coast for when Russell met up with you again but an urgent case in Washington popped up. You’d spent most of the past three days driving cross-country behind Colter’s truck and the airstreamer, learning what the hell a rewardist was.

Colter had told you about the case at first to keep your mind off of Russell but you’d reluctantly taken an interest and now were deep in the weeds of helping him locate a missing young woman.

“You want to come look with me?” asked Colter, breaking you out of your train of thought. You blinked, a small smile on his face. “Come on. It’ll get you some experience with rewardest work and stop you from doom scrolling.”

“Alright,” you sighed. While you appreciated Colter’s attempts to make you feel better, you were starting to get very concerned. You hadn’t heard from Russell since you left your house a few days ago and there was nothing in the news about the local mafia members being killed. Or him.

Colter rubbed your back when you helped him unhook it from the airstream. He tended to do that when you started to get stressed out. He hadn’t been lying before. He really was good at reading people.

“Colter,” you said in the dark truck, the hum of the vehicle quiet in the cab as he drove. “What if something happened to him and he needs our help?”

“He knows what he’s doing. A job like this, he’s got to do a lot of prep work and he’s got to put a crew together. Trusted friends. Try not to worry.” You bit your bottom lip as you stared out the window, trees passing by.

If only it were that simple.

It was two in the morning by the time you and Colter made it back to the camping grounds. You’d found Martha in not too great of shape but she was alive and the doctors said she’d make a full recovery with time. Colter has tried to give you some of the reward money for helping but you hadn’t done all that much in your opinion.

“Stay here,” he said when he turned the truck into your lot and you spotted a dark figure sitting by the fire. He took his gun from the back of jeans and got out, pausing halfway out the door. He smiled over at you and you caught the dark figure give an awkward little wave. “Should I tell him how much you’ve been worried?”

“Not. A. Word. Colter,” you said before hopping out and happily rushing over to where Russell rose to his feet. You didn’t realize you were giving him a hug until he was laughing, returning it and lifting you off the ground.

“I missed my queen of darkness too,” he chuckled, setting you down with a smirk. You scoffed, Russell’s eyebrows raising at your attire. “Is that my jacket? And shirt?”

“Why waste the money on new stuff,” you shrugged, Russell grinning like an idiot. “Stop that.”

“I’m sure that was the reason.” Colter came over, the boys sharing a nod. “You keep my little delinquent out of trouble?”

“She’s a breeze,” said Colter, taking a seat. “Even helped with my latest case. She should try the rewardist thing. She’s good at it.”

“Maybe. All I want to know is am I good?” you asked. Russell took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He nodded, the tension running of out your body. “Thank you, Russell. Thank your friends too. I’ll pay you guys-”

“No payment. This was because you’re my friend, plain and simple. Just knowing you’re safe is more than enough.” You smiled, letting yourself rest your head against his shoulder. “You should rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“How-”

“In the morning. I need to catch up with my little brother.” You nodded, enjoying the feel of his heavy hand as it ran over your head. “Go sleep, Y/N. You’re exhausted.”

You reluctantly peeled yourself away and went inside to find your makeshift bed had been done up for you already. You didn’t even try to fight the flutters in your stomach when you spotted a yellow pajama shirt and shorts set neatly folded on top. There was a note beside it, a stupid ass smile finding it’s way onto your face.

Brand new. Imported from France. Don’t get used to fancy ass presents like these. I ain’t made of money. Even if these are soft as fuck and I totally wish they made these for men. I still think you’d look better wearing a band tee to bed.

Russ

P.S. They had a sale so I got you something else too. Check your backpack.

You shook your head and grabbed your bag from the floor, taking out a very elegant black bag. You undid the tissue paper and went wide eyed.

Inside was a very, very, fancy black lace bra and multiple pairs of gorgeous bikini style undies in soft muted colors. There was another note waiting for you inside, your heart stilling.

No strings attached. Hopefully these will cover you for a little while until you can get settled again.

“Oh, Russell,” you said quietly, thumbing over the bag, smiling to yourself as your insides did very happy backflips.

He wasn’t just a pretty and protective face. He was thoughtful too.

And you were starting to fall for a guy that’d most likely be gone by this time tomorrow.

Fuck.

__________

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

#wayne reads #fic rec #amazing writers 🤍#russell shaw #russell shaw x reader

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rafes-slut · 2 days ago

Text

You are too aroused to feel anything

Warnings: Smut, overstimulation, frustration, desperation, mild dom/sub dynamics, strong language, explicit content, brattiness, period-related hormones, Rafe being smug and teasing.

Summary: you are ovulating and only thing you need is him. you couldnt wait t get your hands on him so he can fuck you properly. only for you to be too wet and turned on, aroused to feel any satisfaction at all.

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Rafe barely got the door shut before you were on him.

The second he stepped inside, your hands were all over him—pulling at his shirt, unbuttoning his jeans, desperate to get what you’d been waiting for all day. Your body was already wrecked, overstimulated from nothing, from just existing in this state of unbearable need. The whole week had been torture. Your mood swung between being an absolute brat and an insatiable mess, and no one could handle it but Rafe. He always knew exactly what you needed.

And right now, you needed him.

He barely had time to process before you were dragging him to the couch, practically tearing at his clothes, an urgent whine leaving your lips.

“Someone’s needy,” Rafe murmured, amusement lacing his voice, though he was already helping you push down his jeans.

“Shut up,” you huffed, fingers trembling as you worked him free, as you climbed onto his lap and ground against him, desperate for any sort of relief. “You took too long.”

Rafe chuckled, hands gripping your hips as you lined yourself up and sank down in one slick, desperate motion. The stretch made you gasp, made you shudder, but the moment you finally had him—

Nothing.

Not the relief you needed. Not the pleasure you were chasing. Just an overwhelming, unbearable emptiness that made your frustration bubble up into anger.

You whined, shifting your hips, chasing something that refused to come. Rafe gripped you tighter, watching you carefully, but still, no matter what you did—how you moved, how fast, how deep—it wasn’t enough.

“Fuck—” Your hands curled into fists against his chest, your body betraying you completely. The more desperate you became, the less you could feel. You were too worked up, too turned on, too overstimulated to even process pleasure.

Tears pricked your eyes. “It’s not working. It’s not fucking working.”

Rafe tilted his head, looking far too amused for your liking. His hands roamed up your waist, slow, teasing. “What do you mean, baby?”

You let out a frustrated sob. “I can’t—feel it. I need it. I need you, but—it’s slipping.”

A dark chuckle rumbled through Rafe’s chest. “Aw, poor baby.” His hands suddenly gripped your hips tighter, pushing you down hard, forcing you to take him as deep as possible. “Too desperate for your own good?”

You whimpered, your body shuddering, nails digging into his shoulders as your frustration built and built. “Rafe,” you practically cried, pressing your forehead against his.

“I got you,” he murmured, dragging his hands up your back, holding you close. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “We’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?”

Rafe hummed, trailing his hands down to your thighs, kneading the soft flesh before gripping hard. “You’re so fucking needy, it’s pathetic,” he teased, dragging his lips along your jaw as you let out another frustrated whimper. “But I like you like this.”

You could barely process his words, too lost in your own desperation. “Please,” you begged, voice cracking, your entire body tense. “Please, Rafe. Just—just fix it.”

He smirked. “Oh, I’ll fix it, alright.”

Without warning, he flipped you onto your back against the couch, knocking the air from your lungs as he loomed over you. His grip was bruising as he pressed your legs apart, taking full control. “Since you can’t seem to do it yourself,” he muttered, voice dark, “guess I’ll just have to take care of you.”

Your breath hitched as he thrust into you again, deeper this time, hitting every spot that usually sent you into oblivion. But still—nothing. It was infuriating.

A sob ripped from your throat as you clawed at his arms. “Why isn’t it working?”

Rafe groaned, his rhythm never faltering, though his expression was growing darker with satisfaction. “Because, baby, you’re too fucking wound up. Too desperate.” He dipped his head, teeth grazing your collarbone. “And I fucking love it.”

You wanted to scream. The pleasure was right there, just out of reach, teasing you, taunting you. Every thrust, every touch, every kiss only made the ache worse.

Rafe watched you unravel beneath him, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Maybe I should make you wait even longer,” he mused, slowing his pace just to torment you. “Let you suffer a little more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you gasped, glaring at him with tear-filled eyes.

He chuckled, gripping your chin between his fingers. “Fine. But when you finally break, I want to hear you scream my name.”

209 notes · View notes

idkanymark · 2 days ago

Text

[So close to what]

best friends to lovers au | haechan x f!reader

INTRO: your best friend is in love with you but you’re too scared of ruin the friendship to accept his feelings.

w. slightly suggestive

NOTE: Exam season is over and I finally have a little bit of time. How are you?

Do you guys prefer when I use the name Haechan or Donghyuck? Please let me know!

---------

"Did you hear?" Ryujin asked, leaning in with a knowing smirk.

"Heard what?" you replied, raising a brow.

"Hoseok wanted to ask you out—but Haechan stopped him."

"What?" You blinked, stunned.

Everyone knew about Haechan’s feelings for you. He never said it outright, but his actions spoke loud enough. From high school to university, he remained by your side—teasing, annoying, and somehow still your favorite person. You’d lost count of how many times you tried to strangle him, probably resembling Homer and Bart, yet you couldn’t imagine life without him. That’s exactly why you never acknowledged his feelings, and Haechan was smart enough never to say them aloud.

"Do you really not see him as more than a friend?" Ryujin pressed.

"Yes, I'm sure” you said firmly.

Well… that was going to change soon.

Especially that evening, you and Haechan were having your usual dinner night—something that had become routine ever since you recently moved in together near campus.

Coming back from work, you expected the usual - maybe Haechan napping on the couch or raiding the fridge before dinner. What you didn’t expect was to find Haechan shirtless, playing with your dog.

You’d seen him shirtless plenty of times before. But not since he started hitting the gym. And wow—he had changed. Broad shoulders, toned arms, defined abs. When did this happen?

You were too busy staring to realize he had caught you. He turned, amusement flickering in his eyes as he fought back a smirk.

“Oh, you’re back?” he said casually, like he hadn’t just sent your brain into overdrive. “I already prepped everything for dinner.”

“Oh? Mh—yeah, I—” Wait. Why did it suddenly feel hot? Was there no air in here?

“I’m just gonna take a quick shower first!” you blurted before bolting to the bathroom, your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

As you shut the door behind you, you swore you heard him chuckle.

Haechan 1 - 0 You.

By the time you stepped out of the shower, you had successfully convinced yourself that you were not affected by Haechan’s sudden gym-induced glow-up. You were just tired. Stressed. Hungry. That’s all.

You walked into the kitchen, determined to act normal, only to find Haechan already setting up the ingredients. His damp hair was pushed back, a few strands falling lazily over his forehead. The sleeveless shirt he threw on did absolutely nothing to hide the changes you were desperately trying to ignore.

"Feeling better?" he teased, glancing at you with that look—the one that always meant trouble.

You rolled your eyes and reached for the cutting board. "Just hand me the vegetables."

The two of you moved around the kitchen in a familiar rhythm, chopping, stirring, and sneaking bites of food when you thought the other wasn’t looking. Everything was fine—until you struggled with the knife, your hands slipping slightly on the carrot you were cutting.

Before you could react, Haechan was behind you. Right behind you.

"Here, let me help” he murmured, his chest just barely brushing against your back as he reached around you. His hands covered yours, guiding your grip on the knife.

You swore the temperature in the room shot up ten degrees.

"You’re holding it too loosely” he continued, his voice lower than usual. "You need to be firm."

Firm. Right. Firm grip. Not shaky hands. Not the overwhelming awareness of how close he was, how warm he felt, how good he smelled—why does he smell so good?!

"You okay?" he asked, his breath fanning against your ear.

No. Absolutely not.

"Yeah! Of course! Totally fine!" you blurted, stepping forward so fast you nearly knocked the bowl off the counter. "You know what? Maybe you should handle the cutting. I’ll just… stir."

Haechan watched you with amusement, the corners of his lips twitching upward. "You’re acting weird” he said, crossing his arms.

You grabbed the nearest spoon and pointed it at him. "I am not acting weird. You’re acting weird!"

He just chuckled, shaking his head as he picked up the knife again. "Whatever you say."

Haechan 2 - 0 You

And for the first time, you started to wonder if maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as immune to him as you thought.

-----

A road trip was long overdue. Ever since Haechan got his driver license, it had been your thing- just you, Haechan, the open road, a questionable playlist, the endless banter. Nothing had changed.

Or so you thought.

As you hopped into the car, adjusting your seat, Haechan shot you a lazy grin. “I got everything we might need so you can ride comfortably.”

You choked on air.

Ride comfortably?

Your head snapped toward him, but he was already looking straight ahead, fingers drumming against the steering wheel like he hadn’t just said that. Oh, this man was choosing his words very carefully these days.

“Oh?” You cleared your throat, narrowing your eyes. “And what exactly does that mean?”

Haechan turned to you, feigning innocence. “You know, snacks, pillows, a blanket in case you get cold—” He glanced at you, his smirk deepening. “Why? What did you think I meant?”

Your brain short-circuited.

“I—nothing. I just—shut up and drive” you muttered, yanking your seatbelt on as heat crept up your neck.

The car rumbled to life, and soon, you were cruising down the highway, music filling the space between you. But something was different. You could feel it in the air, thick and charged, every teasing glance from Haechan making it worse.

“So” he started, tapping his fingers against the wheel, “when are you gonna admit it?”

You frowned. “Admit what?”

“That you’ve been acting weird around me lately.”

Your grip on your drink tightened. “I have not—”

“You literally sprinted to the bathroom the other day after seeing me shirtless.”

Your jaw clenched. “I was hot.”

“Oh, I bet you were.”

Your head snapped toward him, and he was already grinning like he won some kind of game. You hated how smug he looked. You hated even more how right he probably was.

You exhaled sharply, turning your gaze back to the road.

Haechan 3 - 0 You

And this trip was far from over.

-----

The sky was drenched in deep oranges and purples as the road stretched endlessly ahead. The entire trip had been a game—one you were losing miserably. Haechan had been relentless, throwing teasing remarks and smug glances your way, collecting points without even trying.

But not this time.

You shifted in your seat, stretching your arms above your head with a casual sigh. “Ugh, I should’ve worn something lighter" you muttered, tugging at the neckline of your top just enough to draw attention. “It’s so hot in here.”

Haechan didn’t react at first, his eyes fixed on the road. But you caught it—the quick flicker of his gaze toward you, the subtle shift in his grip on the steering wheel.

Encouraged, you went in for the kill. “Maybe I should just take this off" you mused, fingers hooking under the hem of your shirt as if you were actually considering it.

That did it.

His knuckles went white against the wheel, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and he exhaled slowly, like he was physically restraining himself.

Still, he said nothing.

The air inside the car grew thick with something different. No teasing comeback, no cocky remark. Just tension. Heavy, undeniable tension.

And that’s when you knew.

Haechan wasn’t winning this round. You were. You finally got a point.

A slow smirk crept onto your face as you leaned back, satisfied. “Hey, pass me the aux.”

For a second, he didn’t move. Then, finally, he let out a sharp breath, shaking his head with a disbelieving chuckle as he grabbed the cord and handed it to you.

“You’re so annoying” he muttered, gripping the wheel a little too tightly.

You grinned, plugging in your phone. “Something wrong?”

He scoffed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I hate you”

No, he didn’t.

Haechan 3 - 1 You

-----

The ride to Busan had been long. Five hours of charged silence, stolen glances, and the occasional throat-clearing that neither of you acknowledged. By the time you arrived, exhaustion was settling into your bones—but the universe clearly wasn’t done messing with you.

Because the moment you stepped into your Airbnb, you were met with a problem.

“A bed?” Your voice pitched slightly. “There’s only one bed?”

Haechan, standing behind you, blinked at the sight like he was just now realizing it.

You turned to him, arms crossed. “Haechan. You booked this place.”

“I didn’t know that!” he defended, throwing his hands up. “I just saw the good reviews and a nice view—how was I supposed to check that?”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. The tension had already been unbearable, and now, this? It was like karma was punishing you for something.

Still, you were exhausted. Arguing wasn’t worth it.

“I’ll order food" you sighed. “Go take a shower, you must be tired from all the driving.”

Haechan smirked as he grabbed a towel. “Try not to freak out during our honeymoon, sweetheart” he teased, throwing a wink before disappearing into the bathroom.

You picked up a pillow from the couch and chucked it at the door.

By the time he came out, hair damp and smelling annoyingly good, the food had arrived, and you were already eating. He plopped down across from you, stealing a fry off your plate without asking—typical.

For a while, there was just the quiet clatter of chopsticks and the hum of the TV in the background. Then, finally, he spoke.

“I’ll take the couch.”

You paused mid-bite, blinking at him.

Something about the way he said it made your stomach twist. You should have felt relieved. You should have nodded and moved on. But instead, there was this stupid little twinge of… what? Disappointment?

No. Definitely not.

“Alright" you muttered, pushing your rice around with your chopsticks.

Haechan glanced at you, lips twitching like he was debating whether to say something. “Unless…” he started.

You looked up. “Unless what?”

He grinned, leaning his chin on his hand. “Unless you want me in bed with you.”

You stared at him. “I will smother you with a pillow.”

Haechan laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending the warmth in your face was from the food.

And the night was far from over.

-----

The tension from the car ride still lingered as you both got ready for bed. Haechan was setting up his spot on the couch, fluffing a pillow as if it would magically make it more comfortable. You sat on the edge of the bed, watching him.

He had driven for almost five hours straight. He deserved a comfortable bed—not a stiff couch—yet here you were, letting your ridiculous nerves and hormones get in the way.

What kind of awful person were you?

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Haechan."

He hummed in acknowledgment, not looking up.

You hesitated, then finally blurted, "Would you like to sleep with me on the bed?"

That got his attention.

Haechan froze mid-motion, blinking at you as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. "I’m sorry, what?"

You exhaled sharply. "I said: Would you like to sleep with me on the bed?"

A beat of silence. Then, "Are you sure?" His voice held an unusual hesitation, as if he didn’t quite believe this was happening.

"I’ll change my mind if you don’t jump on the bed in the next few sec—"

You didn’t even get to finish.

Haechan was already diving onto the bed, a satisfied grin on his face.

You rolled your eyes, shifting under the covers as he got comfortable beside you. It felt… strange. Too quiet. Too real. You both instinctively turned your backs to each other, but that only made it worse.

Minutes passed. Maybe an hour. But sleep never came.

You sighed softly, rolling over. "Haechan, are you awake?"

He turned too, now facing you in the dim light. "Yeah."

Your breath caught. Being this close, lying in the same bed—it was something entirely new. His face was barely a foot away, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for something.

He looked ethereal.

"Can I tell you something?" His voice was quieter this time, careful.

Your heartbeat stuttered. "Yeah."

He hesitated for only a second before saying, "I’ve liked you for a while."

The confession hit you like a slow-burning flame, creeping through your chest and spreading warmth and panic all at once.

"It could ruin our friendship…" you whispered.

"It won’t" he said immediately. "We will never break up."

There was no hesitation in his voice, no doubt. Just certainty. And for some reason, that certainty felt like the safest thing in the world.

"Do you feel it too?" he asked.

You swallowed hard, then nodded. "Yes."

Something shifted. The space between you felt smaller, your breaths mingling in the stillness of the room. Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.

And then, he kissed you.

It was soft at first, almost hesitant—like he wanted to take his time, like he wanted to memorize the way you felt. His lips moved against yours slowly, testing, savoring. But when you kissed him back, he exhaled against your skin, pulling you in just a little closer. His fingers brushed against your cheek, warm and steady, anchoring you in the moment.

The kiss deepened, unspoken emotions spilling into it—years of teasing, of unspoken tension, of lingering glances neither of you ever acknowledged. And now? Now it was undeniable.

When you finally broke apart, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your face.

Then, just as you thought the moment couldn’t get any more overwhelming, Haechan smirked.

"Oh, by the way," he murmured, "I did know there was only one bed"

Silence.

Your eyes widened. "You WHAT?!"

Before he could react, you shoved him, grabbing a pillow to physically wipe that smirk off his face.

Haechan burst into laughter, dodging your attacks. "Hey, don’t be mad! It worked, didn’t it?"

"YOU’RE UNBELIEVABLE!"

Still grinning, he caught your wrists, pulling you back down beside him with a chuckle. "Come on, sweetheart, you still feel like yelling at me?"

You huffed, glaring at him. But the warmth in his gaze, the lingering feeling of his lips on yours—it was impossible to stay mad.

Haechan 4 - 1 You

And somehow, you didn’t even mind.

But then the laughter finally died down, leaving only the sound of your breaths in the quiet room. Haechan was still grinning, lying beside you like he had just won the biggest game of his life. Technically, he had.

You glared at him, still trying to process everything. The confession. The kiss. The fact that he had planned the one-bed situation all along.

But before you could throw another insult his way, he suddenly smirked—that famous smirk, the one that always meant trouble.

"Do you remember my suggestion?" he asked, voice dripping with amusement.

You frowned. "What suggestion?"

Then it hit you.

Your brain rewound back to earlier that day. The car ride. The teasing.

"I got everything we might need so you can ride comfortably."

Your eyes widened, heat creeping up your neck.

Haechan noticed the exact moment you put it together because his smirk deepened.

"Are you still up for it?" he asked, his voice lower now, playful but laced with something else. Something dangerous.

You swallowed, your pulse hammering in your ears. You should say no. You should roll over, ignore him, and go to sleep like a rational person.

But you didn’t.

Instead, without breaking eye contact, you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his before tugging him closer.

Haechan’s eyes darkened slightly, his smirk faltering just enough for you to know you had caught him off guard.

“I don’t mind a ride”

That was all he needed.

In a flash, his arms were around you, pulling you flush against him. His warmth, his scent—everything about him surrounded you in an instant. His lips brushed against your temple, trailing slowly down to your cheek before hovering just inches from your lips.

Haechan 5 - 1 You

But by the way he was holding you, it felt like you both won.

111 notes · View notes

daryltwdixon · 17 hours ago

Text

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Your honor, there are bite marks on my laptop. tags: daryl dixon's slutty little lap, no smut but def naughty, grinding, kissing, dry humping. inexperienced daryl, premature ejaculation, mentions of arachnophobia, alexandria, no use of y/n yes I know I have like 50 other wips to work on but cmonnn masterlist

It started out as innocent as can be, honest to god.

The first time, it was a run gone sideways—one that started with two cars. The Camry you drove had broken down, leaving the only option of cramming into the single bench truck cab with Rick, Glenn, and Daryl. The rain was coming down in sheets, loud enough to drown out any conversation, hammering the truck’s metal roof like an unrelenting drum. There was no choice but to pile in, no time to hesitate, so you climbed in after them, waterlogged and exhausted, and sat in the first lap by the door.

You barely had time to register anything before strong hands slid around you, stiff at first, then settling firm against his own broad thighs. You looked up, blinking between the three men, before realization hit.

You were in Daryl’s lap.

Rick and Glenn didn’t seem to mind, too preoccupied with the flooded dirt roads, but Daryl? Daryl was rigid beneath you.

All sharp edges and silence, he wasn’t the type to give much away. The most you’d ever shared were quick words on hunts, muttered confirmations on runs, but that was it. He never looked at you long enough to let you wonder if he thought of you at all.

But now… now you were in his lap, warm and close, his body solid under yours, and for the first time, you were thinking about him in an entirely new way. He was handsome, sure. Very handsome, actually. But he never seemed to give any inkling of interest in anyone, really. So you never pushed.

Then the truck hit a pothole.

Your body lurched, and before your head could hit the roof of the cab, Daryl grabbed you. Big hands, rough palms, a reflexively strong grip. The sudden pull forced you to shift against him, dragging across the solid expanse of his thighs, and the feeling of him beneath you hit your stomach like a strike of flint to steel.

He hauled you back down hard, fingers digging in before they quickly jerked away as if he’d been burned by your skin. But the movement had you suddenly very aware of his body under yours.

At first, it was just heat. The firm muscles of his thighs, his body wound tight as a steel cable. But then the truck jolted again, another deep rut in the road, and this time, it sent you rolling forward, your hands pushing up into the dash to keep yourself steady.

And that’s when you felt him.

Thick. Heavy. Hard beneath you.

A sharp breath caught in your throat. Even through layers of damp denim, even with your own clothes separating you, there was no mistaking it.

Your stomach flipped, thighs tightening instinctively, trying not to react, but your body betrayed you—your fingers twitched against the dash, a slow, creeping warmth settling between your legs.

Daryl was fighting it—you could feel that too. His fingers moved, palms rubbing against the side of his own thighs, but he didn’t push you away. His breath turned uneven, hitched like he was trying and failing to keep quiet. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his head tilted back against the window, jaw clenched so tight it might crack. Every muscle in his body was locked up, like he was willing himself to stillness, willing himself to not react to the feel of your ass against him.

Another bounce knocked you forward, and when your body shot forward again, you had to push your palms flat onto the dash and into him to keep yourself steady, an unintentional drag of your hips that made his breath punched out of him. The sound he let out was barely audible over the rain–a deep, guttural noise stuck somewhere between discomfort and something far more dangerous.

A slow, unbearable heat curled in your stomach, spreading low, making your breath shaky. Your body was already acting of it's own accord, your thighs clenching on instinct, your pulse hammering so loudly you swore it would give you away. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to breathe through it, to ignore the way this felt, the way your hips itched to move just a little more, just to test—to see—

And then his lips were near your ear, his voice barely more than a gravelly rasp, thick with something like desperation.

"Quit squirmin’."

A soft, helpless little whimper slipped from your lips.

You clamped a hand over your mouth immediately, but it was too late. Daryl had heard it. You knew because his whole body jerked beneath you, his hands suddenly at your waist, squeezing so tight it almost hurt. His breath came out sharp and unsteady, his thighs twitching under yours, like every muscle in him was coiled so tight he was about to snap.

When the truck finally rolled to a stop at the gates, you bolted.

You didn’t even look at him, didn’t dare risk seeing what was in his face—shock, confusion, regret, want—whatever it was, you couldn’t face it. Your heart pounded as you threw the door open, practically jumping off his lap, ignoring the way your legs trembled when your feet hit solid ground.

But later—in the solitude of your room–you found yourself lying in the dark, breath heavy, fingers slipping between your thighs as the ghost of that feeling came back with a vengeance.

The second time it happened, it also started out innocent, thank you very much.

For someone who had survived this long into the apocalypse, you sure were damn afraid of spiders. So afraid that when you and Daryl were paired up for a run, you’d nearly died when a nest of them made themselves known. One second, you were reaching into a cupboard for an old can of green beans, the next you were screaming, stumbling back, and then—out cold on the floor.

Daryl had freaked. He’d never seen someone just faint before, not outside of blood loss or injury. He crouched down fast, tapping at your cheek, muttering your name, but you were completely gone. Before he could even process that, a sound outside made his stomach drop—low, guttural hisses, the unmistakable snarl of the dead, drawn in by the sound of your scream.

He didn’t have time to wait for you to wake up.

So, in the most awkward, uncomfortable way imaginable, he scooped you up, hauled you onto his bike, and realized real fast that an unconscious person wasn’t exactly great at holding on. You were too slack, too limp—one wrong turn and you’d slide right off.

Daryl swore under his breath, already sweating at the thought of what he was about to do.

Before he could think too hard about the repercussions of it all, he repositioned you in his lap, facing him, legs hooked around his thighs, arms lightly folded in front of you and against his stomach. His arm curled around your back, holding you upright, while his other hand gripped the handlebar. It was awkward as hell trying to steer while keeping you from slumping sideways, but he managed.

Then you started to stir.

At first, it was subtle—your fingers twitching against his chest, a faint murmur against his shoulder. He prayed you’d stay out just long enough for him to get back to camp because if you woke up like this…

But of course, that would’ve been too easy.

A slow, unconscious shift—your body adjusting, pressing closer, your hips shifting forward right against him.

Daryl tensed so hard he thought he might snap in half.

His arm around your back locked up, his grip on the handlebar nearly crushing it. He forced his focus on the road, on anything but the slow friction against his lap. But then you sighed—soft, barely there, breath warm against his neck—and fuck, he felt it. The heat of you, the lazy drag of your hips as your body instinctively sought comfort.

His jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached.

This was not happening again.

But it was.

And it was so much worse than the truck.

Because now, you were asleep. Unconscious. And your body was doing things that you weren’t even aware of, things that made him ache in ways he didn’t know how to deal with. His skin burned, his breath turned shallow, and goddammit, he was getting hard. Again.

Daryl felt like the worst person alive.

This wasn’t supposed to happen—he wasn’t supposed to react to you like this, not when you weren’t even aware of it. But every little shift, every unconscious roll of your hips, every soft breath against his neck was making him suffer.

By the time you finally started to wake up, Daryl was already gone—face burning, heart racing, his body so tense it felt like a live wire. He didn’t even realize how hard he was gripping you until you let out a small noise, your fingers flexing against his shirt as your lashes fluttered.

As you stirred, instinctively clinging to him, your arms beginning to wrap around his middle for better support, your body pressed closer. He felt your hips shifting just enough to grind against him, forcing another sharp twitch beneath his jeans.

Daryl went rigid.

Your body tensed against him as awareness settled in, your breath catching for just a second. Daryl knew the exact moment you realized where you were—what you were sitting on—because you stiffened, fingers gripping at his shirt, but you didn’t pull away.

If anything, you leaned in. His entire body locked up, his grip on the handlebar going white-knuckled as the warmth of your breath brushed against his neck. The hum of the bike beneath him did nothing to drown out the pounding in his ears, the way heat licked up his neck as your lips barely skimmed the sensitive skin on his throat. He felt you move against his lap too, a gentle rocking of your hips against him. His stomach flipped, his fingers twitched, and for a split second, he froze, completely unsure of what to do, how to stop this without making it worse.

“Stop,” he muttered, voice rough, barely above a breath.

You didn’t.

The vibration of the bike only made it worse. He was so goddamn tense, his entire body fighting against the instinct to react. He was barely breathing, just trying to focus on the road, but it was impossible with your mouth teasing at his skin, the warmth of your body curled into him, the weight of you pressing down in a way that was too much.

It was all he could do to hold you still against him.

"Stop," he said again, but this time it was louder, less like an order and more like a plea.

Your lips lingered for a second longer before you finally pulled away.

Daryl exhaled shakily, heart hammering, body strung tight, but he still didn’t push you off, didn’t pull his bike over to switch places and get you off of him. He just sat there, stiff and locked up, trying not to let his hand shake where it pressed into your back.

But then when you pulled away, finally listening to his pleas and he looked down at you for a moment, he saw the flicker in your expression—the way your gaze dropped, the way your lips pressed together, the way your hands loosened their hold on him like you suddenly weren’t sure you should be touching him at all.

His chest ached instantly, sharp and unexpected. That wasn’t what this was. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you—it was that he did. So badly it scared the hell out of him. But the way it had happened, the way he had put you in this situation. You hadn’t been fully aware, hadn’t made the choice, and the last thing he wanted was to take advantage of something your body did before your mind had caught up. And the way you hesitated now, the way you pulled back, made something in him panic.

"Sorry," you murmured, voice softer now, any sense of teasing completely washed away.

Daryl swallowed hard, but his throat felt tight, his jaw locked up so bad he thought it might snap. He wanted to say something, to explain, to tell you that this wasn’t about not wanting you.

But he couldn’t.

All he could do was keep his grip firm on the handlebar, eyes locked on the road ahead, his arm still braced against your back as he forced himself to focus on anything but the way his body ached for you to come back.

Now…the third time it happened…you couldn’t say it was all that innocent.

The Alexandria watchtower stood separate from the rest of the town, white and quiet, a lone structure overlooking the entrance. It was meant to be a defense point, a place for vigilance, for keeping the people inside safe.

Right now, it felt like a goddamn confession booth.

You sat on the window ledge taking first watch with your arms draped over your knees, the darkened treetops sway in the night breeze, pretending not to notice how tense Daryl was inside behind you up against the opposite wall. You had been up there for nearly an hour now, and he had barely said a word outside of the occasional grunt, playing with an arrow in his hands like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

You knew why.

You had been avoiding each other even worse since the bike incident—both of you too flustered, too unsure of what the hell to do with yourselves. But it wasn’t sustainable, not in a place like this, where the community was small and jobs were assigned. The universe—or more likely, Rick—had decided it was time for you to deal with it.

So here you were.

You sighed loudly, twisting around to face him.

"I'm sorry," you said, tilting your head back against the window frame, eyes drifting to the ceiling.

Daryl stilled across the small room, the moonlight catching in his hair, but his features remained shadowed, obscured in the dim glow of the lantern that sat on the floor nearby.

“Fer what?” he finally asked, twiddling the arrow between his fingers, rolling it absentmindedly.

“For everything,” you said, a humorless laugh making your shoulder shake.

His eyes finally flickered up to you, uncertain, but it was enough for you to want to keep explaining yourself. You felt stupid, so so stupid.

“I mean it,” you said, hands pushing against your cheeks, trying to scrub the redness already creeping up your skin, “It won’t happen again. Even if we get stuck in a crowded truck together, even if I faint from another god damn spider attack. I swear to you, Daryl, I will stay far away from touching you,” you glanced at him, and trying to ease the tension, you added: “Next time I’ll just sit in Rick’s lap,”

Daryl’s eyes flickered away for a long moment, something ghosting through them that he was clearly trying to push down. His gaze shifted toward the corner of the room, where nothing but overturned boxes and dust sat in the dark, like he could find the right words buried somewhere in the silence.

You let out a slow breath, thinking that was it, that he’d let the conversation die the way he always did. But then, suddenly, he spoke up.

“Don’t.”

Your brows furrowed. “Don’t what?”

His jaw tensed, fingers flexing as he set down the arrow, “Don’t sit on nobody’s lap.”

The words came out gruff, like he hadn’t meant to say them, and the way he turned his head slightly, like he was bracing himself for your reaction, made something in your chest tighten.

Silence settled between you again, heavier this time. The only sound was the wind rustling through the leaves below, the distant hum of Alexandria behind the walls until he spoke again.

“…I liked it.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Daryl shifted, uneasy, fingers finding his mouth, chewing weakly on the skin of his forefinger like he was regretting opening his mouth. “When you… did that,” he mumbled, gaze flickering toward you before dropping again. “I liked it.”

Your stomach flipped. You studied him, the way his shoulders curled inward slightly, the nervous twitch of his fingers, the pink creeping up his neck. He was avoiding your gaze, embarrassed, like he expected you to laugh, to brush it off, to tell him he was imagining things.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you pushed off the ledge, moving slowly, deliberately, making your way over to him. When you knelt down in front of him, his breath hitched, his fingers clenching, his entire body going still.

You reached out, fingers brushing over his jacket, trailing up toward his shoulder. His breath shuddered, his muscles tightening beneath your touch.

“You liked it?” you murmured.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Yeah.”

You bit your lip, tilting your head. “Which part?”

Daryl’s eyes darted to yours, filled with something uncertain, something hesitant. “What do ya mean?”

“Tell me,” you said, voice softer now, a little breathless. “Which part you liked.”

He didn’t answer right away. His skin was growing pink even in the dim light of the tower, the tips of his ears burning as his fingers twitched against the floor He was looking everywhere but at you, like he was trying to will himself out of this conversation.

You took that moment to shift forward, climbing into his lap without hesitation. His breath stopped, his body going rigid beneath you, hands jerking up before he forced them back down like he didn’t know where to put them.

Your thighs bracketed his hips, your hands settling on his shoulders, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin.

“Did you like when I sat on your lap in the truck?”

Daryl felt like he wasn’t even breathing beneath you, his hands splayed beside him, fingers curling against the wooden floor as if itching to touch you. His eyes finally caught your gaze and stayed there, flickering between hesitation and something deeper, something you knew he was fighting against.

His voice was barely a murmur, thick and hoarse when he answered.

“…Yeah.”

A slow smile curled at the edge of your lips, and you leaned in, close enough for your nose to brush against his.

“What about the bike?” you whispered.

Daryl swallowed so hard you heard it. His hands finally moved, gripping your thighs where they rested against his, unsure but there, fingers flexing as if he was testing his own restraint.

“…Yeah.”

You could feel the heat of his breath against your mouth, the tension so thick it was dizzying. His body was wound so tight, his grip tightening slightly on your thighs, his entire frame burning beneath you.

“Daryl,” you breathed.

His fingers dug in slightly. His eyelids were heavy, his mouth parted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t force the words out.

Then his blue eyed gaze dropped to your lips.

Something in your chest tightened, anticipation coiling low in your stomach as you leaned in, testing, waiting to see if he’d stop you again, if he’d push you away like before, tell you no in that reluctant way that left you aching even worse than before.

But this time, he didn’t.

This time, your lips brushed against his and he sucked in a sharp breath, his hands flexing hard against your thighs, fingers gripping like he was trying to ground himself. Then his lips molded to yours, hesitant at first, like he was still trying to figure this all out.

But the moment you let out a small, contented sigh against his mouth, he made up his mind.

Daryl grabbed at you, rough palms sliding from your thighs up to your hips, and pulled you into him in one desperate, instinctive movement. You gasped softly, fingers tangling into his hair as your body pressed flush against his, the warmth of him searing through the fabric between you.

The pure thickness of him beneath you, solid muscle and broad strength, sent heat rushing through your veins, and then—fuck.

You felt him. Hard, heavy, and pulsing between your legs.

Another shaky whimper slipped from your throat, muffled against his lips, and Daryl groaned at the sound. It was deep, wrecked, vibrating through his chest like he was a man starved of this for far too long. When his mouth parted, panting from the overwhelming friction, you seized the moment, sliding your tongue past his lips to meet his. The taste of cigarettes and something undeniably him flooded your senses, warm and intoxicating, making your head spin.

The friction. The push, the pull, the way his body fit against yours—it was maddening. You rocked again, just enough to feel the way he twitched beneath you, just enough to make his hands clench as they reached back to grip your ass, his hips jerking up in response. The sharp, choked noise he let out sent heat flashing down your spine, turning your thoughts into nothing but molten, aching need.

You ground down on him harder, the steady roll of your hips chasing that friction, the ache building between your legs as his hands dug into your denim clad flesh, guiding you into him like he couldn’t help himself. The obscene noises of lips and tongues and heavy, desperate breathing filled the still night air, drowned only by the distant rustling of leaves outside the tower.

Daryl was unraveling beneath you.

His lips only parted from yours to move hungrily against your neck, dragging over heated skin, sucking at the sensitive flesh beneath your jaw. Every press of his mouth sent shivers racing through you, made your fingers clench tighter in his hair as your hips rolled against the hard length straining beneath his jeans.

The brush of his scruff against your throat had you moaning, a sound that made his hands twitch where they held you, gripping tighter, pulling you down against him like he was chasing it.

You weren’t even thinking anymore.

Not about Alexandria, not about the watchtower, not about anything except how good he felt, how his hardness was aching perfectly beneath you, rubbing just right against the throbbing need building at your core.

Daryl sucked in a ragged breath, dragging his mouth back up to yours, capturing your lips again like he was ravenous for it. His tongue met yours in a messy, desperate tangle, his hands flexing against your hips as he rocked you down into him, his groans spilling into your mouth, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding back.

You could feel it. The way his muscles were wound tight, his hips bucking beneath yours, his breathing turning ragged, uneven. He was so close. He was overwhelmed, so overstimulated, so completely lost in the way you were moving against him that he didn’t even realize he was chasing it, rutting up against you like he needed it.

And then you rolled your hips again, slower this time, more deliberate, grinding down just right, and Daryl broke.

His whole body seized beneath you, hands clenching at your ass as his hips stuttered up into yours, a wrecked, choked noise tearing from his throat as he came apart. His muscles locked up, every part of him going rigid as the pleasure overtook him.

You pulled back just enough to watch his beautiful face scrunched up, long, greasy hair pushed back just enough for you to see everything—the deep crease in his brow, the way his mouth fell open on a desperate, shuddering groan, the sheer helplessness of it as he twitched beneath you, his release spilling warm under his jeans. His grip on you was bruising, fingers digging in so tight you knew you’d be wearing the marks of him tomorrow.

His chest heaved beneath your palms as you released his long locks from your hands, his whole body shuddering through the aftershocks as reality slowly returned to him. When his eyes finally blinked open, dazed and so beautifully wide, his sweat-slick face somehow managed to flush even redder.

“I—I’m sorry—”

You didn’t let him finish.

Your finger pressed against his lips, silencing him as you tilted your head, watching him freeze beneath you again, all flustered and wrecked, like he was seconds away from bolting if you let him. His wide, desperate blue eyes stayed locked on yours, waiting for something, bracing for the worst.

But you just grinned.

“Don’t—” you began, voice full of warmth and maybe a little teasing, “Don’t ruin the single hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my entire existence.”

Daryl didn’t find it amusing. If anything, he went even redder under your gaze, his entire body tensing as he turned his head away, looking anywhere but at you. Like if he avoided your eyes long enough, maybe the last few minutes would magically undo themselves.

“Hey,” you murmured, reaching out to grip his chin, forcing him to look at you. His skin was burning under your touch, his breath shallow, his pupils still blown from what had just happened. “I’m not done with you yet,”

Daryl swallowed hard, his jaw shifting under your fingers. “But I—”

“You just got to have your fun,” you cut him off, voice dipping lower, slower, as you leaned in, letting your mouth brush against the outline of his lips, “What about me?” You rolled your hips against his lap, slow and teasing, making him shudder beneath you. “Gonna leave me hangin’, Dixon?”

Daryl’s hands slid up, moving with more intent, his palms splaying over your ribs, fingers flexing just beneath your breasts. He wasn’t just reacting anymore—he was choosing this. He looked up at you, eyes dark, lips parted, voice just barely above a whisper.

“I wanna…” He hesitated, his brows furrowing like he was trying to find the words, trying to ask for something without knowing how. But then, his hands moved to your back, gripping you firmer, like he was realizing what he wanted even as he said it.

“I wanna make you feel good.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Daryl swallowed, his thumbs skimming over the soft skin beneath your shirt, his gaze locked onto yours, searching. “Tell me how,” he murmured, his voice raw, thick with something desperate. “Show me what you like.”

Something hot and deep coiled in your stomach at the way he said it—so eager, so earnest, his hands shaking slightly like he was aching to touch you but needed you to let him.

“You sure?” you murmured, voice barely more than a breath.

His grip tightened. “Yeah.”

You smiled, slow and wicked, leaning down to kiss him—soft at first, then deeper, hungrier. His breath hitched, and when you rolled your hips again, this time he wasn’t just taking it.

This time, he was meeting you halfway.

#daryl dixon #wheeeewyyyyy #grinding is so underrated #dry humping is underrated #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon's slutty little lap #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl one shot #daryl dixion imagine

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jane-the-good · 1 day ago

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CALEB: tender moments pt. 2

WORD COUNT: 1.8K

SUMMARY: kindergarten teacher AU! It’s a lovely day with just a hint of stress, but that’s how life is. Caleb is always there to lend a hand and make everything easier ◡̈ but what if you’re on your own when a wanderer attacks???

TAGS: Caleb x MC, fluff

AN: I like how in game there are lots of tender moments ◡̈ I think I might keep more going! maybe more AUs if you have requests ♡

WARNINGS: fighting, disaster at an elementary school (no death), weenie bit of yandere Caleb

AO3

The morning is a hush, a breath held between night and day. A sliver of time untouched, where the world lingers along the line of dreaming and waking. The air is thick with quiet, the kind that softly streams through windows, weightless and warm. Light drapes itself in long, golden threads, stretching across the floor, as if hesitant to disturb the stillness. For a moment, everything is suspended, unrushed, unbroken, waiting.

You wake to the comforting scent of breakfast, the softness of Caleb’s presence moving through the kitchen. He’s always up before you, his body already warm from his morning workout, his hair still damp from the shower. He doesn’t say much at first, just gives you a smirk when he catches you watching him.

"Morning," you mumble, still groggy as you step toward him, stealing the toast off his plate before sinking into your chair.

His thoughtful care is everywhere, the way he makes sure your plate is full, the way he watches, making sure you eat, making sure you’re cared for. It’s in the way he puts lotion on your hands for you and in the way he reminds you, "You call me if anything happens, okay?" His voice firm, but laced with something deeper.

You promise you will.

Your classroom is warm, sunlight spilling through the windows as your students work through their assignments, their soft murmurs filling the air. You love this, the way their minds spark to life, the way they look to you for guidance, for understanding. It’s what you were meant to do.

It starts with a distant rumble. The sound is low, like thunder trapped beneath the ground. Then, the entire building shivering. A sickening lurch, followed by a deafening roar. The lights flicker. The security alarms blare.

Panic tightens around the school in an anxious fist.

Through the window, you only see its shadow. A Wanderer. A thing born from deepspace, all wrong angles and shifting mass. It’s hulking darkness warping the light. Its eyes burn, sickly and bright.

The world erupts. An explosion tears through the hallway, shockwaves slamming into the room. You’re airborne before you register the force, spine colliding with the far wall. The floor rumbles. Screams fracture the air. Debris falls in jagged sheets.

Through the ringing in your ears, you barely register your own voice, telling your students to stay low, to move toward the emergency exit.

But something blocks the way. Its smell hits you before it’s in sight. The Wanderer is close, too close.

You can’t even think. You just act.

With shaking hands, you grab a metal rod from the wreckage, your body moving on instinct. If you can distract it, if you can buy enough time for the hunter unit to arrive, maybe your students will have a chance.

The last thing you remember is the sharp, searing pain as the creature’s energy pulse knocks you to the ground.

The security feeds go dark.

One second, he’s watching you. The next, the screen is static.

His heart stops.

The reports come in, Attack at the school. Heavy damage. Casualties unknown.

He’s on his way out before he can hear anything worse.

Emergency crews swarm the wreckage, voices barking orders over the wail of sirens. The building is half-collapsed, broken steel and shattered glass jutting from the ruins. Smoke rises in thick, choking plumes, staining the early morning sky. His pulse pounds in his ears as he shoves past responders, ignoring shouted warnings. His eyes scan the chaos, searching, and so incredibly desperate.

In the distance, he hears a frantic child’s voice talking to the emergency crew.  “My teacher is still in there! You have to find her!”

The world tilts. Sound warps and muffles like he was shoved underwater. Someone is still talking, but he can’t process the words. Can’t breathe past the freezing fist closing around his ribs.

He doesn’t wait for the rescue team. He doesn’t trust them to find you fast enough. Not when every second could be the difference between life and, No. He refuses to think it.

Smoke constricts his lungs, dust coats his skin, but none of it matters. Not when you’re still in there. Somewhere beneath this wreckage of a school.

His voice is raw from calling for you, so desperately. He claws through debris, shoving aside broken desks, shattered glass, anything that stands between him and you. His fingers are bleeding, his body screaming, but he won’t stop. Not until-

There. A glimpse of fabric. A hand, too still.

Panic slams into him as he drops to his knees, pulling away chunks of rubble until he reaches you. His hands shake as he presses two fingers to your neck. The longest second of his life. Then, a pulse. Weak but there.

“Hey, I got you,” he breathes, barely able to hear himself over the pounding in his ears. “Stay with me.”

The world is hazy when you wake.

Your head aches, a dull, pulsing pain, but it’s the warmth that you notice first. Caleb, his body pressed close, his breathing quicker than you can remember. His hand is grasping yours, refusing to let you go.

The ground beneath you is rough, uneven. Ash clings to your skin, the air thick with the scent of burnt metal and dust. The ruins of the explosion stretch around you in silhouettes, even the ceiling is caked with dirt.

Your body protests as you try to move, every limb heavy with exhaustion. The shift is small, barely more than a breath, but it’s enough.

Caleb stirs. His grip tightens around you, his arms wrapped protectively as if shielding you from a danger that has already passed. His head snaps up, eyes wild, frantic, like he’s been waiting on the edge of a nightmare.

“She’s alive,” he rasps into the phone, his voice rough with relief. “But she’s hurt. We need evac now.”

You blink sluggishly, your vision swimming, but the warmth of him, solid, grounding, keeps you tethered. His hand still in yours, squeezing gently, reassuring.

“No, she’s conscious, but barely,” he continues, jaw clenched, his voice tight with contained urgency. “I don’t care how, just get here.”

You try to speak, but the words catch in your throat, dry and raw. There’s no telling how much debris you inhaled. He must sense it, because his attention snaps to you instantly, his free hand brushing over your hair, careful, reverent.

“Hey,” he murmurs, softer now, the phone still pressed to his ear. “Stay with me, okay? Help’s coming.”

His thumb strokes lightly over your knuckles. Even through the chaos, even with his voice sharp and commanding as he barks coordinates into the receiver, his touch remains gentle.

“I’ve got you.”

You want to tell him you’re okay. That you’re still here. But all you can do is squeeze his hand back, faint but certain.

His other hand brushes over your hair, careful, reverent, avoiding the bruises and cuts along your temple. There’s something fragile in the way he touches you, like he’s afraid you might break.

"How do you feel?"

You blink, the world still tilting around you, a dull ache thrumming behind your temples. "Like-I got- hit by a spaceship."

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, he huffs out a breathless, almost-laugh, but it’s shaky, frayed at the edges. His fingers tighten slightly around yours, like he’s reassuring himself that you’re still here. That you’re still in this existence with him.

"You almost did."

Memories flood back in fragments, the attack, the students, the Wanderer. You try to sit up, but his hands are there instantly, holding you steady.

“Slow down,” he stutters. “Don’t push yourself.”

“My students, ”

“They’re safe,” he assures you quickly. “You kept them safe.”

You exhale, relief washing over you. But Caleb… he’s still tense. The weight of what he didn’t catch is still heavy on his heart.

"You should quit."

Your eyes snap to his. “Caleb, ”

“You almost died.” His voice is quiet but firm, the words heavy between you. “I swore I’d keep you safe, and I, ” He stops, jaw tightening, his hand curling into a fist at his sides. There’s something so exposing in his expression, something he’s barely holding back. “I don’t want to lose you.”

The words hang between you, fragile and heavy all at once. You reach for his fisted hand, your fingers brushing against his, warm despite the cold bite of the night air.

“I love teaching, Caleb.” Your voice is steady, but there’s a plea woven into it, a truth you need him to understand. “It’s not just a job. It’s who I am meant to be.”

His gaze flickers along the fleeting shadow falling on his face. A shallow breath escapes his lips as his shoulders sag. He watches, helpless, every moment you're out of his reach—able to care for you from a distance, but unable to protect you the way he wants. It's something you love, but it’s a choice he can't bear to see you make.

And maybe that’s what terrifies him most. The thought that he could hate you, if something happened, because it was your choice. But that’s absurd, isn’t it? Because he could never hate you. Not really. Not ever.

"Fine," he mutters. "But what about when we have kids?"

You freeze.

“Kids?” You stare at him, caught completely off guard. “Plural? And soon?”

His lips twitch. "I'm just thinking, "

"You are not just thinking,” you cut in, eyeing him suspiciously. "You mean it."

There’s a beat of silence. Then, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, maybe I do."

Your head is still spinning, from both the injury and this conversation, but you can’t help the small, incredulous laugh that escapes.

“Caleb,” you say, voice softer now, “we’re not there yet.”

He studies you for a long moment, then nods, resigned. "I know." Then, his hand tightens around yours. "But if this is what you love, if this is what you have to do... I’ll do everything I can to keep you doing it."

The weight of his words settles into the depths of your worries. You feel it in the way his fingers tighten around yours, desperate, like you are something fragile, something slipping through the cracks of a broken world. Something he cannot afford to lose.

“That’s all I need,” you murmur, the words small but certain, steady in a way the ground beneath you isn’t.

Around you, the world stirs. The rumble of stone being torn from stone. Voices calling through the dust. The distant wail of sirens, growing closer. The city stitching itself back together, blind to the places where you have come undone.

But here, in this breath, in this narrow space between ruin and rescue, between before and after, there is only Caleb. His arms around you. His breath against your temple. The quiet, steady beat of his heart, as if willing yours to do the same.

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deliciousangelfestival · 10 hours ago

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Let's Play Pretend - 4 | bodyguard!Bucky

Character: Bucky Barnes x singer! Female reader

Summary: You just wanted to hide here and find peace from the mess that wasn’t caused by you. But then, your hot neighbor bothered you. As if that wasn’t enough, the enemies you hated found you too.

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

A few days ago, you heard the news that your former manager had died. And today, you found out your ex-fiancé was dead too.

What the fuck is going on?

You had just attended one funeral, and now you were going to another.

With a deep breath, you opened your wardrobe, reaching for something black to wear. Your fingers brushed against a thick jacket, and for a moment, you froze. Jack’s jacket.

He had given it to you on a cold night when you had been shivering after a performance, dressed in nothing but thin stage clothes. “My dear is trembling like a cat. Here.” He had taken off his jacket and wrapped it around you. Since then, you have kept it, carried it with you, even after everything that happened.

You and Jack had started together, two newcomers struggling in the same agency. He had been humble, funny, and caring—someone you could rely on. Who wouldn’t fall in love with a man like that?

But as his career skyrocketed and he surrounded himself with the wrong people, he changed. The warmth he once had faded, replaced by arrogance, recklessness, and lies.

Still, you had held on, believing—hoping—that the man you once loved would return. That he would snap out of it, remember who he was before the fame. But waiting was useless. Instead of giving you the love you wanted, he cheated. He spiraled into drugs.

That was your breaking point. That was when you finally walked away.

You had hated him for it. But now…

Now, he was dead.

Tears welled up before you even realized it. You hated crying over him, hated that he still had that power over you. But love, anger, regret—they all blurred together into something you couldn’t control.

A knock on the door pulled you out of it. You quickly wiped your face, but it was too late.

Bucky stepped inside, his eyes immediately narrowing. “Why are you crying?”

You swallowed hard, your voice hoarse. “My ex-fiancé just died.”

Bucky tilted his head, unfazed. “Huh. I’ve seen people die right in front of me more times than I can count.” He shrugged like it was nothing. “Didn’t cry once.”

You blinked, staring at him in disbelief. “You—” Words failed you. “Unbelievable.”

Whatever grief you had been drowning in evaporated, replaced with sheer frustration. His complete lack of empathy made you want to scream.

Bucky, of course, seemed pleased with himself. He leaned against the doorframe, watching you with that infuriatingly amused expression. Then, as if piecing something together, his smirk faded just slightly. "Something doesn't add up."

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

He crossed his arms. "Your manager died. Now your ex-fiancé. Within days of each other. That’s not just bad luck, sweetheart."

Your stomach twisted. You hadn’t thought about it that way.

Bucky sighed dramatically, as if he were about to deliver bad news but couldn’t quite bring himself to be serious about it. "Prepare yourself. A detective will probably drop by soon with questions."

Your heart dropped. “Why? I didn’t do anything.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He gestured vaguely. “Two people close to you died back-to-back. That raises eyebrows.”

You exhaled, feeling drained. Another chapter of your life unfolding—one you hadn’t asked for, one you weren’t ready for.

Bucky, on the other hand, grinned like he was actually enjoying this. “This is getting interesting.”

You shot him a glare. “Glad you’re entertained.”

He winked. “I always am.”

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Jack’s Funeral

The moment you stepped inside, the room fell silent.

All eyes turned toward you—the ex-fiancée of the deceased—arriving at his funeral with another man.

Whispers rippled through the mourners, hushed yet sharp, like knives sliding between ribs. You could feel their judgment pressing against your skin, suffocating. Some stared in curiosity, others in barely concealed disdain.

You kept your head high, gripping the strap of your purse a little tighter.

Bucky, on the other hand, looked completely unbothered. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the attention. With his hands tucked casually in his pockets, he leaned toward you and muttered, "Quite the audience. Should I give a speech?"

You elbowed him in the ribs. "Not the time, Barnes."

He chuckled but didn’t push further.

You approached Jack’s family, offering your condolences, but his mother barely acknowledged you. Grief lined her face, her hands gripping a tissue tightly as if it were the only thing holding her together.

You didn’t blame her for the cold reception. After all, you had left Jack long before his downward spiral. To them, you had abandoned him.

But even as you tried to pay your respects, the weight of their stares never lifted.

Outside the Funeral

The moment you and Bucky stepped outside, fresh air filled your lungs. You inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the tension lingering from inside.

Before you could reach your car, two men in dark suits approached.

Detectives.

Your stomach tightened.

Bucky sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Took them long enough."

One of the detectives, a man with graying hair and sharp eyes, pulled out a notepad. "Miss, we’d like to ask you a few questions regarding Mr. Lancaster’s death."

You straightened your posture. "Of course."

"Where were you last night?"

"At my apartment," you answered. "With him." You tilted your head toward Bucky.

The other detective, a younger man with glasses, glanced between you and Bucky. "May I ask the nature of your relationship?"

Before you could speak, Bucky did.

“Her boyfriend.” His voice was smooth, confident. “Both of us were together last night.”

Then, without warning, he reached over and tugged the neckline of your dress down just enough to expose your collarbone.

Your breath hitched. “Bucky, what the hell—”

"Is this enough proof?" he asked nonchalantly.

The two detectives instantly flushed, looking away in embarrassment. You, meanwhile, had no idea what they were even looking at—until they mumbled a hasty, "We’ll keep in touch, Miss."

As they walked away, you caught a murmur between them.

"Celebrities… It’s easy for them to find new sex partners."

Your jaw clenched.

Once inside the car, you yanked down the sun visor, flipped open the mirror, and turned on your phone’s front camera. The second you saw your reflection, your eyes widened.

“BUCKY!”

He smirked, leaning back in his seat. "Not loud enough."

You pointed furiously at your collarbone. "What the hell is this?! It looks like a hickey! How did you even—?"

With an innocent expression, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tube.

Your red lipstick.

Your glare intensified. "How the fuck did you even get that?!"

Bucky twirled it between his fingers. "I have my ways." Then he winked. "Consider it a little magic trick."

You wanted to be mad—really, you did—but you couldn’t deny that his ridiculous stunt had shut down the detectives’ questioning. With an exhausted sigh, you muttered, "Thanks."

“You’re welcome.” His grin widened.

Then, just as you thought the conversation was over, he casually added, “He should’ve gotten an autopsy.”

Your brows furrowed. "You mean Jack?"

He nodded, tapping his fingers against the dashboard.

"His parents don’t want one."

Bucky scoffed. "Their loss."

Something about his tone sent a chill down your spine.

🥀🥀🥀🥀

The weight of the day pressed down on you the moment you stepped into your apartment. Exhaustion clung to your bones, and all you wanted was to shut your eyes and escape reality—if only for a little while.

You kicked off your shoes, exhaling as you rubbed your temples. The apartment was quiet, exactly as you’d left it. Nothing seemed out of place.

Until you noticed your bedroom door.

It was slightly open.

Your stomach clenched. You were sure you had closed it before leaving.

Shaking off the unease creeping up your spine, you pushed the door open—

And screamed.

"Kyaaaa!!!"

Heavy footsteps thundered down the hall. Before you could blink, Bucky was at your side, his hand instinctively reaching for his gun.

Then he saw it.

Your room was a disaster.

Pillows lay shredded across the floor, their stuffing torn apart as if slashed by a knife. Your blankets were in a heap, the furniture overturned. But the most terrifying sight was the red—splattered across the walls, the bed, the floor.

It looked like blood.

But the worst part?

A knife. Stabbed straight through a framed photo of you.

A chill spread through your veins. You clutched Bucky’s arm, your fingers digging into his sleeve.

He didn’t flinch.

Bucky stepped forward, calm and deliberate, his sharp eyes scanning the wreckage. Crouching down, he touched the red stain smeared across your dresser. He rubbed it between his fingers, then smirked.

"It’s ink."

You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper. "Who… who did this?"

Bucky straightened, glancing at the knife in your photo before turning to you.

"I had a feeling something was missing from this puzzle," he murmured while looking at you. Then his smirk deepened, his gaze dark with intrigue. "But now? I think I just found the most important piece."

Your stomach twisted. "Me?"

He nodded slowly, watching you with amusement.

"Congratulations, sweetheart. You’re officially the main event."

Your heart pounded, fear clawing at your throat. But Bucky?

Bucky looked entertained.

Like he was just getting started.

Seeing him get excited over this made you wonder, Mrs. Walls, what kind of neighbor did you have?

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If you enjoy my stories, feel free to check out my masterlist. I’ve also written some original works that you might find interesting.

They are available on Kindle:

Arrogant Ex-Husband: A novella.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #buckybarnes #bodyguard!au #bodyguard!bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky #romance #comedy #enemy to lovers

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geotjwrs · 1 day ago

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Can I request a fanfic with Jenna and Male Reader, where Jenna is the most popular person in school that everyone is scared of, and reader is a shy nerd, and suddenly people aren't bullying him as much because Jenna told them not to, and when he confronts her about it she's really embarrassed and admits she likes him, a lot. If not that's fine, thank you.

Got it! I’ll rewrite it to hit 1500 words and keep it natural. Give me a bit.

out of your league

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

It started slowly, so slowly that Y/N almost didn’t notice.

At first, he thought it was just a coincidence. Maybe the universe had finally decided to cut him some slack. Maybe people had grown bored of making his life miserable.

But the signs were there.

The usual snickers when he walked past? Gone. The whispers behind his back? Quieter. The shoves into lockers? Well, okay, those still happened sometimes, but a lot less than before. It was like people had just… stopped caring about bullying him.

Which, in theory, should’ve been a good thing.

But it made him suspicious instead.

Because people at this school? They didn’t just stop being cruel for no reason.

Then he noticed something else. Something even weirder.

Jenna was acting strange.

Not “strange” in a way that most people would notice, but he did. Jenna, the most popular girl in school, the one everyone either worshiped or feared kept looking at him. A lot. And every time he caught her staring, she’d either look away too fast or pretend she was totally doing something else.

The first time it happened, he thought he was imagining things. The second time? He started wondering if there was something on his face. The third time? He knew something was up.

And then came the lunchroom incident.

Y/N had been sitting in his usual spot, just minding his own business, when Hunter the guy who lived to make his life miserable walked by. Normally, Hunter wouldn’t miss a chance to shove his tray or make some snide comment.

But today?

Today, Hunter took one look at him, turned pale, and immediately sat back down at his own table.

That was when Y/N knew.

Someone had said something.

And he had a pretty good idea who.

Confronting Jenna was not something most people did.

She had this… presence. The kind that made people nervous, even when she wasn’t saying anything. She didn’t need to be loud to be intimidating one look from her was enough to shut people up.

But Y/N was desperate for answers.

So here he was, standing in front of her locker, heart pounding, regretting everything.

Jenna was rummaging through her bag when he cleared his throat. “Jenna.”

She glanced up, saw him, and instantly froze.

For a split second, something flashed across her face surprise, maybe even panic but then she crossed her arms and leaned against her locker, looking him up and down like she was sizing him up.

“What do you want, nerd?”

Okay. Rude. But at least she wasn’t ignoring him.

He swallowed, trying to keep his voice steady. “Did you… tell people to stop messing with me?”

Jenna blinked.

Then, in the most unconvincing tone ever, she said, “No.”

He just stared at her.

She shifted. Looked away. Clicked her tongue.

“Jenna.”

She groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. “Ugh, fine. Maybe I said something.”

He knew it.

“Why?” he asked.

At this, she hesitated.

It was weird seeing her hesitate. Jenna was the type to always have a comeback, always know what to say. But now? She looked almost… nervous.

She muttered something under her breath.

He frowned. “What?”

She rolled her eyes, but he could see the pink creeping up her ears.

“I said, I like you, okay?” she snapped. “A lot. And I got sick of people treating you like trash, so I told them to knock it off.”

Y/N.exe had stopped working.

Jenna. Liked him.

Jenna, the Jenna, the most feared, most popular, most out-of-his-league girl in school

His brain couldn’t process this information.

“I—I don’t know what to say,” he admitted.

Jenna groaned. “You’re so lucky you’re cute,” she mumbled.

His face exploded in heat. “JENNA—”

She just laughed, shoving his shoulder. “C’mon, nerd. I’m walking you to class.”

And just like that, his entire life changed.

But of course, things didn’t just end there.

Because if there was one thing about Jenna, it was that she didn’t do half-measures.

The next day, the entire school knew.

And suddenly, everyone was acting different around him.

People who had never spoken to him before were suddenly saying hi. Teachers were looking at him weird, like they were trying to figure out what kind of blackmail he had on Jenna to make her interested in him.

And the bullies? They weren’t just avoiding him now. They were terrified of him.

It was actually kind of hilarious.

Hunter, the same guy who used to trip him in the hall, now wouldn’t even look at him. At lunch, someone actually gave up their seat for him. And in class, when he dropped his pen, the guy sitting next to him practically dove to pick it up.

It was ridiculous.

It was also, admittedly, kind of awesome.

But there was one problem.

Jenna was acting weird around him now.

Not in a bad way, just… different.

She was still Jenna. still confident, still intimidating, still had everyone wrapped around her finger. But whenever they were alone, she got awkward. Fidgety. Like she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

And it was really funny watching her be the nervous one for once.

So, naturally, he decided to mess with her.

“You know,” he said casually one afternoon, leaning against his locker, “you never actually asked me out."

Jenna, who had been scrolling through her phone, immediately stiffened.

“…Huh?”

He smirked. “You said you liked me. But you never asked me out.”

Jenna narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying you want me to ask you out?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe.”

She stared at him.

Then, very slowly, she smirked.

And suddenly, he was the nervous one.

Jenna took a step closer.

Then another.

And another.

Until she was right in front of him, looking up at him with that signature, cocky grin that made most people run in the opposite direction.

He swallowed.

“Y/N,” she purred, “do you wanna be my boyfriend?”

His brain short-circuited.

Jenna grinned. “That’s what I thought.”

Then she leaned in, kissed his cheek, and walked away like she hadn’t just broken him.

He stood there, completely frozen, face burning.

A few feet away, he could hear someone whisper-screaming about what just happened.

Hunter looked like he was about to pass out.

And Y/N?

Well.

He was definitely out of his league.

But for some reason, Jenna didn’t seem to care.

#dailywomen #imagine #fanfic #one shot #jenna ortega #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #wednesday x male reader #wednesday x reader

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lascvitae · 2 days ago

Text

❦ — actress minjeong & actress y/n getting ready together

synopsis. when y/n opens up to minjeong about feeling homesick, she couldn’t help but want to be the one who she can confide in.

pairing. actress!minjeong x actress fem!reader genre. fluff warning(s). none.

word count: 836

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ katty ᥫ᭡: okayokay i know it’s short but 😭 i don’t wanna make this a long series and yall know i could yap on for hours while writing…

main masterlist.

y/n woke up early the next morning, greeting the birds as she outstretched her limbs to shake off the lingering feeling of sleep.

the mattresses was so comfortable that y/n practically slept like a baby, springing up to prepare herself for the day ahead.

she was going to see the contract for their tv show, going over their pay and how many hours that they would be working for.

y/n was so excited that she had gotten ready in a little under an hour (with the help of singing saturn by sza), assuring that she had everything inside of her purse and most importantly — the key to her apartment.

with a clear of her throat, she knocked on the door to minjeong’s apartment and waited patiently. she suddenly felt a wave of insecurity wash over her, thinking about all of the possible hairs that could be out of place. did her makeup still look okay? had her perfune wore off yet?

“y/n?” minjeong repeated, snapping the girl out of her daze. “you’re very early. the meeting isn’t until another hour.”

y/n’s smile widened, taken aback by minjeong’s natural beauty. she was already dressed but her makeup or hair wasn’t done yet. “we leave in thirty minutes!”

minjeong raised an eyebrow at your excitement, wanting to tease you further but you were still correct. there wasn’t any point in wasting time.

though, the excitement only intrigued her further.

“hopefully you can keep that enthusiasm.” she moved further inside, giving enough room for you to step in as well. “do you want to come inside and wait?”

y/n’s smile faltered at the unexpected invitation, nodding her head as she slowly walked inside. minjeong’s apartment looked very different from her own — it was minimalistic and there were multiple plants that sat in different corners. “nake yourself at home.”

minjeong noticed her co-star’s curious eye, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she walked into the bathroom to continue getting ready for the meeting.

y/n decided to sit down on the edge of the bed closest to the bathroom so that she could get a proper look of minjeong. the girl was applying sunscreen, completely focused on her reflection in the mirror.

“so… when did you start acting?” y/n’s gaze trailed down to the floor to avoid staring for too long, kicking her feet slightly. if their team knew hiw minjeong wanted her apartment to be decorated before her arrival, she had to be respected in the industry more than she may have thought.

minjeong began to apply some light makeup as y/n watched and she figured that she liked her the most this way. relaxed without the pressure of cameras or paparazzi. “about the age of nine is when i began to do it professionally.”

y/n sat up straight, seeing how much minjeong had gotten done in just a small amount of time. “did you ever have to move away from home?”

she saw the blonde haired girl shake her head in response, busying herself with her hairstyle. “i was born in korea and we never stayed too long anywhere overseas. what about you?”

her gaze returned to the floor, shrugged her shoulders. “this is my first main role.” y/n stood up as she heard minjeong’s perfume bottle being used, assuming that she was done getting ready.

she wandered into the bathroom, immediately hit by the intoxicating smell of the perfume. “it’s kind of scary being so far away from home.” y/n leaned against the doorframe, biting her lip because of how vulnerable she was being. “i don’t even know anyone here.”

minjeong watched as the girl played with her fingers, avoiding her gaze. she listened as she continued, waiting patiently before adding her input.

“you know me.” minjeong took y/n’s hand into her own, fingers running over her knuckles. she cracked a small smile before looking away and returning back to her usual poker face. “i’m not just your co-star, i’m your friend too. so don’t think like that, alright?” y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek, nodding slowly.

minjeong’s hold on y/n’s hand lingered for longer than it may have needed to, finally pulling away to tug at the loose strings of her hair. “does my hair look cute?” she asked, turning to y/n with an unreadable expression.

y/n nodded, blushing from their previous contact. “ah, wait.” taking a small strand, y/n began to braid the piece down to the end, feeding in the extensions. “there! now it isn’t just down.” she smiled brightly, radiating onto the older with how contagious it was. “okay. the driver is probably waiting for us.” minjeong guided the girl out of the washroom.

her perfume left a trail, leaving y/n slightly dizzy as they left the apartment. “oh! and minjeong?” the blonde haired girl hummed in response, tapping the button for the elevator. “thank you. for… what you said earlier. it goes both ways.”

minjeong smiled at that.

“no need for you to thank me.”

perm taglist — @saysirhc @aedollie @prologue-ae

#sunset boulevard — kmj #aespa #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #aespa winter #aespa kim minjeong #kim minjeong x reader #winter x reader #kim minjeong

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blueblossomcherry · 1 day ago

Text

Mornings in the Studio

pairing: han jisung x reader

warning: pet names (love, baby)

genre: fluff

wc: 713

When your boyfriend was on tour, you missed him severely. It was even worse, however, when you both were home and never had any time to interact. It made you feel so lonely, the fact that you knew Jisung was there but you could never see him. It was like he was a figment of your imagination. He was gone before you woke up and back when you were asleep. You couldn’t handle it, so you decided to go to the studio to see him, your loneliness getting the better of you. You knew he would be okay with you showing up, he had always told you, “If you need me, you can always come see me, no matter what I’m doing.” It made your heart flutter when he first said it and it still does every time you think about it. He always made sure to put you first in your time of need. You had texted Jisung, still not wanting to just show up unannounced. When you arrived, you knocked on the door of the studio. The door swung open, revealing Jisung in comfy clothes. In the background, you could see Changbin messing around, forming flawless beats. “Hey,” He breathes out, smiling widely. You immediately pull him into a hug, feeling your eyes water at the sight of him in front you for the first time in weeks. He hugged you back tightly, rubbing your back with his hands. By the time you let go of each other, the tears had begun falling. “What’s wrong, love,” He asks, placing his hand on your cheek, wiping your tears with his thumb. Your breath hitches at the pet name he uses, even in a time like this, he knows how to make your heart skip a beat. “I just missed you,” You smile tearfully. He grabs your hands and squeezes them, comforting you. “I missed you too. Now, I still have a little bit of work to do,” He says, dragging you over to the couch in the room. You hesitate, wanting to be closer to him, but you know he has work to do. Not wanting to seem too clingy, you sit down, pulling out your phone to distract you.

This only works for a few minutes, as you find yourself missing your boyfriend's touch even more. The urge grew even stronger until you couldn’t bear it anymore.

By this time, Changbin had already left, so you got off the couch, walking slowly to Jisung. You didn’t want to disturb him, but just being in his presence wasn’t enough anymore. When you get to his chair, you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Baby, I have work to do,” He breathes out a laugh. You sigh, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“I know, just a minute please,” You plead. You understood that he was busy, but after weeks without seeing him, all you craved was his touch. He laughed, pulling you into his lap.

You sat there for a while, his hands playing with your hair, before he dragged the chair that Changbin was sitting in, closer to you.

“Here love, sit here so I can finish,” He tells you, clearly ready to finish his work so he can spend time with you. You do as he says, also ready for him to get done with his work.

“Can we go back home when you’re done, or do you have more stuff to do?” You ask, hoping he’ll tell you that he’ll be completely done after this.

“No, we can go home,” He smiles, amused by your eagerness to go home with him.

“Can you produce a song with one hand?” You ask him, still needing to have some sort of physical contact with him.

“I’m not sure, but I can try,” He winks and gives you his hand. You latch onto it, playing with his fingers while watching him produce their newest song. A few moments later, you hear him speak.

“Okay, I'm done now,” He tells you, watching as you smile and silently cheer.

“Okay, lets go,” You reply, gathering your belongings and practically running out of the room with him.

You couldn’t wait to get home and spend the rest of the day with him.

#stray kids #han jisung #jisung x reader #jisung #han #stray kids x reader #skz stay #love stay

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witchygagirlwrites · 2 days ago

Text

Wildflower-Part 3

Jay Halstead x Reader (nicknamed Wildflower)

You and Jay start to find your way back to each other. Can it work?

Warnings: Hailey is a bitter ex

“So you’ve seen him and all that?” you could tell Violet and Sylvie both were wanting to ask so much more but weren’t wanting to pry into your personal life too much. You shrugged “He was my best friend for years, yeah we drifted after Mouse died and he left but I think it would’ve been weirder for him to be in Chicago and not see me on his own accord wouldn’t it?”

Sylvie tilted her head with a small smile “Did he meet Leah?” you nodded “Yeah, you know I’m not hiding my babygirl from anyone” Violet grinned “Our babygirl. The only reason you’re the only one on her birth certificate is because there isn’t enough lines for all of us” you laughed and bumped your arm into hers “Oh I know ma’am”

You were currently held up in the Lieutenant's quarters with the two of them and Stella. Kelly was in a meeting with Matt and Chief Boden. Stella nodded slowly “What did he say?” you shrugged “That she’s beautiful, that she looks like me” Stella grinned “We already knew that. So you two are friends again?” you nodded “Yeah, I mean I think so?” you knew if there was any hope of you being around and about with Jay and it not being weird that fifty one had to know about it. As bad as a part of you wished he’d just forget you and her both existed the other part of you knew he wouldn’t.

Stella nodded “As long as he’s ok with Leah and treats you like he used to before I’m good with but if he hurts your feelings or anything I won’t even need Kelly to kick his ass” “I second that” Violet added and Sylvie laughed “I’ll just go their bond”

You shook your head with a laugh “Nice to know that Leah’s second godmother at least won’t be locked up” She grinned “Someone has to stay out” Violet shrugged “I’ll send Sam to pick up Shay from school at least” “Thank you” Stella told her with a laugh. Shay was Stella and Kelly’s daughter. They’d adopted her at five. She was absolutely adorable.

“Well since we have a gameplan on who’s killing Jay and who’s picking the kids up, let's get back to work because Kelly is heading this way and technically he is my boss” you cut your eyes up and he grinned when he realized he had your attention. Stella shook her head “Please, I’m his boss. You’re good but just for the record if Hailey even looks your way because Jay’s hanging out with you I will knock her ass out detective or not” you shook your head “I love you Stella Kidd” she grinned “I love you too my Wildflower”

You were curled up on the couch with Leah in your lap watching some new marvel movie on disney plus. Bucky was in it and that was your only qualification to watch it. She started to fuss and you looked at the time. Yeah she was getting ready to bed down so she’d need a bottle before going to sleep.

You stood up, putting her on your hip as you headed to the kitchen but stopped when your phone rang. You grabbed it on the way and saw Jay’s name “Hello?” you answered and he laughed lightly “Any way you might want some company?” you looked down where you were currently wearing a white t-shirt and pink puffy sleep pants. Fuck it, he’d seen you in worse…and less considering. “Yeah, sure” “Good because I bought chinese and I’m at your door” you groaned and looked down at Leah who was currently nuzzling into your shoulder “Were you that certain I’d let you in?”

You walked over to the door and unlocked it. You swung it open and he stood there with the phone still at his ear and smiled “I hoped so. I got off earlier than I thought because the governors meeting was wrapped a lot faster” you nodded and stepped back “Come on then, I gotta get her bottle”

He walked in behind you, closing the door and followed you into the kitchen “Can I help?” he asked after he sat the bags of chinese food down on your counter. His eyes were glued to Leah and you sighed “Jay, use your words buddy” his eyes flicked up towards yours and he smiled “Can I hold her?” you nodded “Of course” he gently took her from your arms and she started cooing and babbling as he talked to her. You watched them for a moment then turned to get her bottle fixed.

She was just beginning to get food added to her diet. Jay was walking around the living room with her when you turned around and you smiled “You’re not tired?” he shrugged “You bust your back at the firehouse all day and do it. I can manage” you shook your head “Here, she needs her bottle so she can start to bed down”

He passed her back so you walked over to the couch “Want to finish this movie with me then we can eat after she goes down?” he nodded “Sure”

He followed you over and you turned, getting comfortable with her in your lap again and he smirked slightly “What?” you asked and he raised an eyebrow “Me, you and her on the couch” you shook your head “Full circle moment huh?” he grinned then motioned “Well you’re stretched out, where should I go?” you shifted your legs further back, giving him just enough room to lay across the couch with you. He kicked his shoes off and laid across the couch, his head on your thigh and Leah’s little hand reached out for him. He froze when he felt her and your heart flipped. This was a little too intimate but it wasn’t like you could move now. You were stuck in this position until she went to sleep now.

____________________

Once Leah was out cold, you slowly slid off the couch to go lay her in her crib so Jay headed for the kitchen to lay out the food. He was trying to ignore just how much his heart was aching. It felt so damn right just laying across the couch with you and her. He hadn’t even known she existed when he chose to not renew his contract. You were the reason he came home. Now he was so damn happy he had because he managed to make it home while she was still little. She was just a couple months old, she could know him.

He just wished he could do something to get you to open up a little to him. You’d let him take you and her to breakfast and had even let Will meet her officially. You were trying and he got that this was hard for you. You’d already laid your life and hers out in front of you. After Mouse you truly hadn’t expected him to come home. He just wished you’d stop saying things like you wanted him to not “ruin his life” by claiming Leah and you. He could give a damn less what anyone said.

He knew what he wanted his future to hold and if he was being honest? This was the best insight into it he’d had. He didn’t want anything other than a life with his girls.

“Jay?” you spoke behind him and he turned to see you standing there with a smile “Yeah?” you waved a hand towards the food “Did it offend you? You were staring it down” he grinned “Naw sweetheart, just thinking” you smirked “Oh, thank god. I thought the food smelled burnt”

He shook his head with a laugh but hearing you tease him like that? It meant your friendship was healing, it meant the two of you were still something to each other. “Yeah wouldn’t want to hurt myself huh?” you grinned and walked over to him, your hand against his lower back as you leaned up over his shoulder to look at the selection “So, did you remember my favorites?”

He cut his eyes at you “Did you think I’d forget?” you smiled “Nope” and grabbed two plates before holding him one out.

______________________

You were sitting on one side of the couch and Jay was sitting on the other. “You know that street fair thing you’ve always liked?” he asked and you nodded “I remember it” he smiled “Well I’m off that saturday, are you?”

You chewed on your bottom lip for a second as you thought about your schedule “Yeah as a matter of fact I’m on a two day off stretch, why?” he shrugged “It’s Leah’s first year. I thought we could take her together” your eyes widened “Jay..” but he cut you off “Not like that Flower, I thought it over here. You’ll be going with your girls right?” you nodded “I’m sure Stella, Sylvie and Vi will be there or at least one of them”

He shrugged “I could go with Will or Kev and just run into you two then if it’s just you were already there you technically didn’t go with me” “Are you really just thinking up ways to be around and about with me and her?” he looked down at his food and shoved it around with his chopsticks before saying “I missed you so much. Every damn day over there, you were all I thought about. Every letter you didn’t respond to, every email. When your number changed. I thought I lost you. That was why I chose not to extend my contract, why I took the private security gig. I had to get my ass home to Chicago to see if you were ok, see if you’d still smile at me like you used to, if you still cared about me”

You leaned up to cover his hand with yours and he stopped fidgeting then slowly raised his eyes to yours “I never meant to worry you Jay. It’s just when that pregnancy test came back positive..I didn’t know what to do, I was scared”

“Of me?” he asked and you shook your head “Never, I was scared of hurting you. What if what happened between us was just a mistake to you, what if she was a mistake to you?” he sat his plate down on the coffee table then reached for yours and sat it down next to his before taking your hands in his “Look at me when I say this flower” you raised your eyes to his and he smiled “What happened between us was so far from a mistake.You keep saying you don’t want to ruin my future but sweetheart that night made me a future. That little girl is perfect. There’s no other word for her”

You were trying not to tear up “I just want you to be happy Jay. You shouldn’t be stuck with me because we were both falling apart and clung to each other” “Was that what it was for you?” he asked and you shook your head “I don’t want to talk about that night right now, please” he nodded slowly “Ok but just know it meant something to me, something good. As far as being stuck with you? How many times do I have to tell you, you are my best friend. You’ve been my best friend for years. No one knows me like you do, I wouldn’t want anyone else to know me like you do. I’m not pushing for you to tell people I’m her father, I won’t do that to you but I want you back as my other half, my best friend, the person that if you see me you see you. I miss that, it doesn’t feel right”

You smiled “How about I just meet you at the street fair with her?” a broad smile slipped onto his face “What?” you nodded “I’ll meet you at the street fair with her. Then it’s just I was out with my daughter, ran into my best friend who then chose to spend the day with us” he started to pull you into a hug but froze until you sighed “You can hug me Jay” he grinned and damn near snatched you across the couch into his lap. You laughed when you landed against his chest,snuggling into the bend of his neck and he wrapped both arms around you “See, this? This feels right” you shook your head “You’re ridiculous Jay” he pressed a kiss to your forehead “And yet you’ve always let me in your life”

You lifted your head and raised an eyebrow “Leah is proof I let you in more than that” and was rewarded with a light blush gracing his cheeks “And you call me the ridiculous one”

You were trying to decide just what to wear to the street fair when Stella texted you So, we’re meeting at the petting zoo right? You laughed and texted back Yes ma’am, is Sylvie and Vi coming too? She replied Not sure about Sylvie but Vi is supposed to come. I heard her threatening Carver about it That sounded like Violet Sounds good to me. See you ladies there.

Once you decided on just sneakers, jeans and a long sleeve shirt you got dressed then headed to Leah’s room. She was babbling and currently playing with her feet. “That’s just lovely baby” you laughed and she cooed when she realized you were in the room.

Once you got her dressed and her diaper bag fixed you sent Jay a text Leaving for the street fair then headed for your truck. By the time you got her buckled in and slid into the driver’s seat he’d texted back I’ll meet you there

______________________

You were standing with Stella, Kelly and Shay. Violet and Sam were currently playing a game at one of the booths with the goal of winning stuffed dalmatians for both of the girls. Violet wouldn’t give up until she won. Kelly had Shay on his shoulders and she was laughing “Daddy, I want cotton candy” Kelly cut his eyes at Stella who sighed “Get her a hotdog at least too” he grinned and walked off.

You laughed “He’s adorable with her. You two are amazing parents” she smiled “You’re pretty amazing yourself there flower” you grinned “Thank you honey” she whistled and nodded “Lookie what the cat dragged in” you followed her line of sight to see Jay walking towards the two of you talking to Will and Nat who were walking with Owen.

“Hey Halsteads and Mannings” you greeted and they all smiled. Once they got to you and Stella everyone traded pleasantries. Nat played with Leah a bit as Stella talked to Jay and Will. In the meantime Kelly came back with Shay.

Jay smiled “And who is this?” Kelly looked so proud as he said “This is mine and Stella’s daughter. Shay Severide” Jay cut his eyes at you and he looked a little sad. You knew it was not being able to claim Leah like that in public. “Congrats you two and nice to meet you Ms Shay” he told her and she laughed “Nice to meet you”

“Jay, we’re bout to go” Will said and Jay nodded then looked back at you “Can I tag along with your bunch?” you shrugged and looked at Stella and Kelly who shrugged “Why not?” Will nodded “Ok. Nice to see you again Flower”

You watched Will walk off then before you could say anything to Jay Violet came running up with a grin carrying two hot pink stuffed dalmatians with Sam walking behind her shaking his head but he was wearing a grin. She looked at Jay and raised an eyebrow “Hey Halstead” the held up the stuffed animals “I won Leah and Shay one” “It only cost twenty bucks” Sam added and she looked back at him “Hush!” before handing you Leah’s and Stella Shay’s.

You grinned and showed Leah “Look what auntie Vi got you” she pulled at the stuffy and Violet grinned. Shay named hers strawberry. Violet was beaming when she looked at Sam “Worth the twenty?” Sam nodded “Yes it was” and all of you laughed. You waved a hand towards Sam “Jay, Sam Carver. Sam this is Jay Halstead, an old friend of mine”

“Hey” Sam greeted with a nod. You fell in step with Stella as all of you headed for the face painting area because that’s what Shay wanted. You could feel Jay at your side.You cut your eyes at him and he smiled as he walked. He was actually enjoying just something this simple.

_____________________

Violet and Sam had already left, they had a dinner reservation then it was Kelly and Stella next because Stella’s cousin was in town and wanted to see Shay. Once it was just you and Jay he looked at you “I could carry her”

You held her out “Knock yourself out” you and him were walking back to your truck. He took her and a broad smile slipped onto his face as soon as she was in his arms “Hey sweet girl” you reached up to run a hand down her back. “Have fun today?” “I think she did” he replied and you laughed “Good but I was asking you”

He laughed “Oh, yeah. I got to be in public with you and her. I got to be with you and your friends. It felt almost..” he trailed off then said “It felt good” you smiled “I’m glad. I enjoyed it too”

You watched him with her and pulled your phone out to snap a quick picture and he grinned “Can you send me that?” you nodded “I also have a couple I’ve snuck, if you want them?” he nodded “Please” you grinned and sent them to his phone, hearing it chime. He smiled “Thank you”

You’d taken one the day he met her. He still had his uniform on and she looked tiny in that pink onesie lost in the sea of tan he was wearing. He buckled her into her car seat then turned to face you where you were standing behind him “So, can I come over?” you shook your head “You don’t want to do anything else?” he shook his head “I want to come see you and her” you shrugged “If you want, you know where I am” he smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek “I’ll be over soon”

How the hell had you gone from a few months ago thinking Jay would never lay eyes on Leah to now he’d do his best to not go over a day without laying his eyes on her? The longest he went was when you were on shift.

You were laying across the floor with Leah on her tummy time blanket, your feet were propped up on the couch while she played. You heard a knock at the door and knew it was Jay. You grabbed your phone and hit his number. “Hello?” he answered so you asked “That you at my door?” “Yeah?” he replied so you laughed “Come on in”

He hung up then opened the door and tilted his head to the side “What are you doing beautiful?” you pointed at Leah “Tummy time” he grinned and kicked his shoes off “Then I’m just in time” he put the food he’d gotten on the counter then came over to lay across the floor on the other side of her. He smiled over at you, “I’m glad I came to see you before I left”

You laughed lightly “So am I Jay” you both got quiet, watching her play. This was becoming a usual occurrence. Hell your friendship was back as strong as it ever was. You loved Jay, even if it was so much more than you should. He was so proud to be Leah’s father and that warmed your heart. All he wanted was to claim her in public but fuck you were still afraid. You’d spotted Hailey from a far a handful of times and the glare she gave you? Nothing good was going to come out of that.

“Where did you go Flower?” he asked and you smiled “I’m here. Just thinking a little too much” he shook his head “Then stop it, your face fell and I don’t like it” you laughed “Well excuse me sir”

You’d never meant for that night to happen but you were glad it did. Jay had always owned a piece of your heart, that night just gave him a bigger piece and had formed something beautiful. She was currently gnawing on her dalmatian toy. You couldn’t see Jay like that because he didn’t see you like that. He loved Leah, that much you were certain and that was good enough for you.

_______________________

Leah was long asleep and you were laying backwards across Jay’s chest watching a movie or you had been watching a movie. He was fairly certain you were asleep. He tilted his head around to look and saw he was right. You were turned just enough to curl into his chest and his heart ached. This was what he wanted. Why couldn’t he just have the chance to tell all of Chicago that then he wouldn’t have had to deal with the issues like at the coffee shop the day before,

Jay was in line to grab everyone’s order from his office. He wasn’t paying attention because he was thinking about the last day he’d spent with you and his baby girl. He heard someone call his name and glanced back to see Hailey two people back and felt his heart drop. “Hey Hailey” he greeted. You’d been pushing him to talk to her anyways.

He motioned in front of him so she slid in the line then turned to face him “Why haven’t you come to see me yet?” he shrugged “We divorced before I left Hails. Didn’t figure you’d want to see me” she nodded “I get why that happened Jay. The stress from Mouse, our jobs. I forgive you” “Thanks?” he told her and she put one hand on his chest “We could try again? Have a real chance” he shook his head “No, I don’t think so” her face hardened “Is this because of Wildflower? You know she went home with a different guy every night the first month after you left. She’s not this big sweetheart like you act like she is”

“That doesn’t sound like her and oh well if she did” he argued and she scoffed “She was always in the middle of our marriage” “She’s my best friend. She was always supportive” he told her and she shook her head “Maybe if she would’ve left us the hell alone we could’ve made it work” “Ok Hailey, turn around and order your coffee” she rolled her eyes “I know she’s had you out and around with that baby. I could give you one that actually belongs to you, remember that” then passed him a card with her number before grabbing her coffee and leaving the shop.

He hadn’t told you. You would push him away. He knew you would. You’d argued from the start that he needed to try to get her back or move on with someone else. You couldn’t see the fact that you and Leah were his heart, his entire heart. He shifted just enough he could lay his head down on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. If this was the only way he could hold you, he’d take it just like if the only way he could be Leah’s daddy was in the four walls of your apartment he’d take it. He’d be patient and prove to you that he wanted you, wanted Leah. When he thought about his future? It was with his girls, only his girls.

@desimarie12

@allisonargent144

@nevaehstreater18

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead x you #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd fic #chicago pd fanfiction #one chicago fanfic #chicago fire fanfic #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire imagine

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onlyangel4 · 3 days ago

Text

booking of the century. drew mcintrye. part two.

drew mcintyre x returning!reader

part one

synopsis: triple h books you four years since your last match and a lot has changed but the man you fell in love with all those years ago still has your heart.

warnings: slow burn. will be multiple parts. loss of a parent after medical event. angst (more to come).

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

"look what the cat dragged in", jon hollered as soon as he spotted you outside the airport dragging your suitcase behind you.

“i swear down i will turn around and get on a plane home”, you laughed shaking your head, arms instinctively opening for trinity to run into.

“nope, i'm going to hug you as tight as possible so you never leave me again”, the woman teased from inside your arms making you laugh again as jon grabbed your suitcase putting it into the trunk of the car.

“i still can’t believe boss man left us in charge of the biggest secret in modern wrestling”, jon exclaimed getting into the driver’s seat.

“it’s not that big of a secret, shaun and luis know as well”, you spoke but in reality you knew jon was right. other than the top dogs in production only four fellow wrestlers knew exactly what was going to happen tonight, the last smackdown before the chamber. It was a massive secret, one that you thought you would be unable to pull off but everything had slipped into place and now it was only a few hours before your highly anticipated return.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

getting to the stadium had been a huge blur, you had sat in the backseat in silence just listening to the friendly bickering from your two close friends in the front but your mind was somewhere else, it was stuck on him. he had no idea that you were coming back, how would he react? would he be angry at you for not telling him? only time would tell, and that made bile rise in your throat.

drew had been the person who believed in you when no one else did, he was the person who would drag you out of bed to train on your off days, he was your biggest fan and greatest inspiration, so surprising him in such a way felt wrong but hunter had convinced you that it was best for business, for both of you.

sometimes your mind wandered back to what could have been between the both of you, stuff was so fresh when your mother got ill, but if it had just been a year in the future maybe you would have let drew come home with you, maybe you would have let him support you in the way that he wanted to. but you couldn’t get hung up on maybes and what ifs. looking after your mother had been your number one priority and you had done your duty, now it was time to get back to work.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

a squeal pulled you out of your thoughts, you had arrived at the stadium and the back door of the car had been swung open, on the other side stood one of your closest friends, “there’s my girl” steph barely gave you enough time to get out of the car before her arms engulfed you in a mighty hug.

“jesus girl maybe you should be the one getting back in the ring, with all that strength of yours”, you teased your friend playfully before being led through a back entrance that had been specifically cleared for you.

“i feel like the president or some shit”

steph just shook her head at you before pulling you into a small room, “okay so you can get ready in here, hair and make up will come in here in about an hour, only let someone if they knock twice alright”, she spoke her voice turning professional.

“steph are you sure this is all necessary”

“yes we can’t have news of your return getting out this close to it, the internet is going to go mad”

you spoke to steph for about half an hour before she left to go to some sort of last minute meeting, then the hair and make up ladies came to the room and sorted you out ready for the show. the whole time you were in your own little world. part of you could not believe that this was really happening, that you were really back. another part of yourself was angry that you had not returned earlier, you missed the electric atmosphere that hung in the air pre show, the anticipation for what was going to come.

eventually enough time had lapsed and two knocks told you that it was time to go, you swung the door open and you were met with a familiar face, luis also known as damian priest, “i wasn’t going to believe that you were back until i saw you”

“in the flesh”, you smiled at the man

“we are on in five, you ready to go?”

“as ready as i’ll ever be”

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

drew did not know what to expect. he had been told to go out and shoot a promo ahead of the elimination chamber, talking about how he was going to win the chamber in a ruthless way, he had also been warned that there was going to be an interruption but that was all he knew. when drew had voiced worry about not knowing what to say when he did not have time to prepare hunter had just patted him on the back and said, “trust me, you will know exactly what to say”, the ominous reassurance from his boss left drew with more questions than answers.

but as a guy who always did what he was told drew just nodded and now he was stood in the centre of the ring, mic in his hands a mixture of cheers and boos radiating from the audience, something that made the scottish psychopath smirk as he cleared his throat.

“after tomorrow i am going to be the king of toronto”, the crowd booed in rebellion

“aw don’t be so sad, you are going to get the match of a lifetime, you get to watch me lay out all of your favourites”, he continued.

“i have been dead set of revenge ever since the rumble and nothing is going to get in my way”, then suddenly he was cut off by jimmy uso’s music as the man appeared down the bottom of the ramp, earning a huge pop from the crowd. drew was about to continue when jimmy held up a finger to his lips shhhing him. then la knight’s music played and the megastar arrived at jimmy’s side.

“what are you two doing here, i beat both of you. you have no place here”, drew spoke harshly.

“well you may have beaten both of us but neither us want you to win”, jimmy started

“we have our money on a different horse, a horse that actually has skill and not just rage”, la knight finished a smirk on his lips as damian priest’s music echoed through the stadium and the man entered.

“they might not be in the match but i am”, damian priest’s low voice echoed through the mic, “and I have some punishing to do”

“do you really think a conversation with you and your war dogs is going to throw me off my game? are you really that stupid”, drew spoke laughing at the man’s attempt but damian simply shook his head.

“you are difficult person to get information on drew, with the likes of rollins and punk I can just bring up their families and get under their skin. but not you. it really got me thinking. but then i remembered we have a friend in common and i invited them to toronto to watch me destroy you”

“no one you bring here could throw me off my ga-“, drew couldn’t even finish his sentence when your music began to play, a song that he had not heard in four whole years and the wind was knocked right out of him.

the crowd went fucking mental when they saw you walk to damian’s side, you had been a fan favourite during your time in the company, with many calling you a modern day aj lee. they loved you and they still did.

drew could not believe it, the woman that had left his life just as he had been falling in love with her was at the top of the ring eyes trained on him, a light smile on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes and that worried the man slightly, maybe you weren’t ready to be back, maybe you didn’t want to see him. His mind was racing and his face was blank as he looked straight at you.

“what’s wrong bro you look like you have seen a ghost”, jimmy chuckled as he looked at drew.

“y/n is here to just make sure that you aren’t all talk, you say that you are going to win the chamber no matter what, she is just here to show the world that you are a liar”, la spoke his hand resting on your shoulder.

“you’ve made this personal”, drew spat out

“this has always been personal, you forgot that because you have not had anyone you care about in the wings for four years”, damian shot back.

then you finally lifted the mic up to your lips, “see you tomorrow drew”, the lights went out in the stadium and you and the three man had disappeared leaving drew along in the ring dumbfounded.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

“holy shit y/n I did not know the crowd could even get that loud”, jon spoke squeezing your shoulder making you laugh, “I’m so glad you are back”, he spoke as he walked back stage with you.

“i’m glad to be back”

the next few moments were a blur with superstars that did not know of your return running over to give you a hug and welcome you back into the company and you were smiling, properly this time. maybe you had been worried for nothing, maybe you were exactly where you belonged, surrounded by people that loved you and wanted the best for you.

eventually you manged to escape the crowd of people that had surrounded you, heading down to your dressing room, pulling your hair out of it’s high pony as you walked, opening the door as your hair fell over your shoulders, finally free.

what you had not been expecting had been to see drew stood in the room, eyes locked on the door arms crossed over his chest.

you froze eyes looking at the man, daring him to do something, daring him to shout at you for ambushing him without warning, expecting anger from the large man in front of you. but instead his gaze softened, eyes became warned as he closed the distance between you his arms welcoming you into an all too familiar hug that you melted into. Drew kept his arms around you, holding you close as if you would disappear if he let go of you. he then leant down to your ear lips barely centimetres away from your skin.

“we have a lot to talk about”

#wwe #wwe x reader #wwe fandom #wwe fanfiction #wwe smackdown #elimination chamber #drew mcintyre #drew mcintyre x reader #drew mcintyre fanfiction #drew mcintyre wwe #drew mcintyre fluff

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mia-can-yap-too · 3 days ago

Text

Colors

Who? :- Bachira Meguru x Fem!Reader

Warnings:- Fluff, kinda OOC

♫:- Disco — Surf Curse

Truly appreciating life can mean looking around yourself, noticing the colors that are woven into every moment of your life. Colors in themselves can have a lot of meaning. Orange can mean the color of the sky when the sun sets, it can mean the leaves of trees starting to wither when autumn rolls around or even the cat you see on the way to your morning commute. Blue can mean the sea you swim with your friends in during summer, the blueberries on the muffins you like to treat yourself to or even the violas you see when you pass by the local flower shop every now and then. Life truly is a colorful experience.

Then why is your canvas still blank?

You have been sitting in your school's art studio for a while now, staring at your still white canvas. You've been demotivated recently, needing to paint but finding no inspiration, no will to do so.

Its been like this for a while now, you spending your last few days before summer break glaring at it, hoping that maybe if your stare was intense enough, a painting would appear right in front of you. You have tried almost everything you could think off; taking a stroll through the more scenic areas of your city, painting still life hoping it would light up the spark in you again, but alas, none of them worked. Lady Luck must have been ignoring you lately.

You are on the verge of tears when Miss Bachira, your arts teacher who also happens to be a renowned artist, taps you on the shoulder. Quickly, you gather yourself up before turning to her.

"Y/n," she smiles, "I would like to have a chat with you, if you do not mind."

"Oh." You blink. "O-of course, Miss."

She gestures for you to follow and then promptly leads you to her office.

"Please, take a seat," her friendly tone still present.

Have I done something? What if I've been hogging the art studio for too long? Am I gonna get in trouble? Or is it my art instead? Is THE Bachira Yu about to tell me how shit of an artist I am? That it was never gonna work out for me? That its so bad it can be deemed an abomina--

"I've noticed that you've been having trouble painting recently", she starts, calmly.

"Oh, yes, I think I've uh.. hit an art block, probably," you answer, trying not to make your nervousness evident in your tone.

"I see, it happens to the best of us. Though that is not entirely the reason why I wanted to talk. I've noticed that there is a lot of potential in you, and I would like to help you by guiding you through your difficulties and giving you a nudge in the right direction when needed. In other words, I would like to tutor you over summer break. Of course, you can say no if you already have plans or if you simply wish not to, I would understand," she looks at you with expectation in her eyes.

You can't believe it. Bachira Yu, one of the most wonderful artists in Japan, wants to tutor you?!

Your shock must be evident, as her smile turns even warmer than before.

You realize she is still expecting an answer.

"Yes, I would love it if you tutored me, thank you so much for the opportunity, Miss Bachira!" you beam.

Maybe, Lady Luck had other plans for you after all.

It has been a couple of weeks since summer break started. Your tutoring sessions with Ms.Bachira have been going quite well, too. Seeing her in her element, listening to her talk about her passion as she guides you through her thought processes for her paintings have ignited a spark inside you as well. It makes your fingers itch for a paintbrush, to pick up paint from your palette and smear them onto your canvas until your emotions and thoughts are conveyed on the canvas. Yet, still, your earlier issue persists. Miss Bachira tells you to give it a little more time, to take a moment to live your life so that you may take inspiration from it. Until then, she teaches you various art tips and helps you perfect your style.

You knock thrice before entering her studio apartment, not bothering to wait for her to answer the door as she now keeps it unlocked for you. You enter her studio, placing your bag in its designated spot. Looking around, you realize Miss Bachira isn't in front of the painting shes been working on, like she usually is.

"Miss Bachira?" you call out. "Are you there?"

You wait ten minutes before deciding to go look for her. It's not like she would have minded, as she often asked you to go fetch things for her.

You look in the main bedroom (after knocking, of course) and the living room before heading to the kitchen.

Inside, you spot an open refrigerator door. Confused, you go to close it when a hand touches your shoulder. Startled, you scream, which in turn, makes the perpetuator scream as well. Turning around to get a better look, you see a boy your age with familiar golden eyes and fluffy, brown hair with yellow highlights.

He smiles brightly at you. "You scared me, silly," he laughs.

You eyes are still wide open from the shock.

"You okay?" He tilts his head at you.

"Uh, yes?" you say puzzled. "You are...?"

"Bachira Meguru. Buuut you can just call me Meguru, since you probably call my mom Bachira and it must be pretty weird to have to call two people Bachira, right? I mean, I wouldn't know but I don't think tha--"

You cut him off, because you're sure that if you didn't, he would never shut up.

"I didn't know Miss Bachira had a son." His smile is still as bright as ever. The similarities are undeniable.

"I get why you wouldn't, I'm usually off at Blue Lock, a football camp. You must be Y/n, the girl my mom's tutoring. She's told me a lot about you!"

You blush, flustered. "She has?"

"Yeah, totally, you're definitely her favorite student," he chuckles. "You were looking for her earlier, right? She's just gone to get some paints she ran out off, she should be back soon, though!"

You nod, "I see, thank you for telling me, Meguru."

His smile seems to brighten even more as you call him that. "No problemo~! Hey, I was about to eat some ice cream, do you want some, too?"

"Oh, sure, I guess."

"I only have chocolate though, its the best, my monster agrees," he says pulling out two bowls.

You furrow your brows. "Monster?"

"Yeah, my monster, its my best friend, and its telling me that you have a monster too."

"Oh? Do I need to be exorcised or something?"

"No,no, its a good monster. My monster seems to like yours. I think we're gonna be good friends."

"Well, as long as I don't get possessed or something, sure," you smile back at him.

It was then, that Meguru realized, that he liked you too.

As the days pass by, you and Meguru grow closer. It started with him idly sitting in the studio, sometimes throwing a football against a wall and catching it as it bounces back as you paint with his mother. Smiling whenever you two made eye contact, making faces behind his mother's back in order to make you laugh and the occasional compliment on your art skills.

Soon it turned into you staying at the Bachiras for longer than usual. Playing video games together (you were an undefeated champion), trying not to laugh when you two drew portraits of each other (he named his masterpiece 'hyperpigmentation'), even attempting to bake cookies for his mom (you both ended up burning them). He tries to teach you soccer, and you try to teach him how to paint. You talk about your childhoods, why you chose art and he chose soccer. You listen when he tells you about his monster

He doesn't tell you how much he wants to kiss you all those times.

You don't tell him how much your'e starting to like him.

It was when you two were playing Uno, he asked you out.

"Hey, Y/n," he says as he picks up a card.

You hum in response.

"Theres a new Attack on Titan movie out, wanna go watch it with me? I'll buy tickets for us both!"

You blink, surprised. "Huh? You wanna go with...me? Are you sure you don't wanna use that ticket on someone else?"

"Of course I wanna go with you, silly! Its fun when you're around!"

You're blushing, no one has ever said that to you before. "Really? Its quite fun where you are around too, Meguru. Sure, I'll go!"

"Its a date, then!"

You both are too consumed by your own heated faces to notice the other's.

You both meet up an hour earlier than the starting time of the movie. He holds your hand as he drags you two to a nearby photo-booth.

He doesn't tell you about how he was panicking to his mother about how to style his hair (she convinced him to do it as he usually does) , whether to wear his overalls or yellow shirt instead (he chooses the shirt) and which pair of shoes to wear (he ends up wearing his usual pair).

You don't tell him how you were pacing in your room, worried if it was only you who were considering this as a date and whether or not this was casual for him. You don't tell him that you used your expensive perfume and spent hours on Pinterest for outfit inspirations.

He pulls you into the photo-booth after you both grab props from the stall outside. The first picture startles you both, neither being ready for it. Next one is of both of you in cat ears. Then come the mustaches, corny peace signs and heart glasses. When the last picture comes around, you gain a sudden burst of confidence and face Meguru to kiss his cheek.

His face turned red. "Where did that come from?" he asks, nervously.

"I-I'm so sorry, I should have aske--" you start, ashamed.

"No,no! Don't be sorry, its okay! I liked it, actually," he interrupts you.

In return, he kisses your cheek as well, even though there is no picture for it.

You take the pictures, a soft smile on your face as you examine them.

Meguru doesn't tell you how beautiful he find you then.

You don't tell him how you'll cherish these photos forever.

After the movie, you both find yourselves walking side by side, holding a popsicle each. Your free hands brush each other every now and then as you both recount your favorite moments.

"I really liked today," you say, seemingly out of nowhere.

"I did too!" His signature grin is on his face. "We should go out together more! Maybe we should go to the arcade next time, I'll win you all the plushies! Or maybe to the park, I could teach you how to play football! Or maybe we could have a picnic! Actually--!"

"Calm down," you laugh. "We'll do all of those one at a time, okay?"

He intertwines your finger together. He knows it might ruin your relationship, but he needs to do it now, or else he'll never find the chance again.

It doesn't take long for you notice him looking at you.

"Yeah?"

"Y/n." His face is more serious now.

You listen intently. You notice his golden hues shining. You want to tell him.

"I really like you."

A faint blush sits on your face. "I really like you too, Meguru."

"No, not as friends, as something more." He hesitates, trying to find the words. He knew from the start. When you didn't judge him for his monster, when you didn't make fun him when he couldn't stop talking, when you didn't run away when he wanted to hang out. He knew when he constantly wanted your attention on him, wanted you around all the time, wanted you.

"I don't know how to do this but I want you to know," he looks away as he rubs his neck. "I've liked you for a while now. I want to hold you, kiss you and hang out with you everyday. You make life fun, you make me feel seen, make me feel like I'm worth hanging out with. I know there are other people, people who are normal, who don't have monsters, who aren't weird like me. And it would make sense if you don't feel the same, cuz you can do so much better but--"

"Meguru, don't say that," your tone is stern and you hold his eyes in a glare. "Don't ridicule yourself for being who yourself. You are kinder, funnier and better than most people in every way. I like you too, dummy. I thought the way I was blushing so much was an obvious hint, actually."

You both laugh. This time when he wants to kiss you, he does.

This time when you hold your paintbrush, you actually paint. Because now you know how colorful life can be from experience. Yellow is Meguru's hair when you run your fingers through it, the duck plushie he won for you at the arcade and his shirt that you mended for him. Red is your cheeks, the red velvet cake he likes to eat and the strawberries from the picnic. Golden are his irises, his laugh, the way he makes you feel. Blue is the color of the violas he bought you. Brown is the chocolate ice cream you sneak out to eat together.

This time when you finish your painting, it becomes the best one yet. He knows that too.

#mia wrote this #blue lock #bllk x reader #bachira meguru #bachira x reader #blue lock bachira #bachira x you #bllk bachira #bachira fluff #bachira meguru x reader #bachira meguru x you

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muttsupreme · 2 days ago

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subby romey getting overstimmed,,? in a nice way? 🫠

of course nice. we’re all nice here, right? looks around the room

Roman is a crybaby. Hey, to an extent, he deserves to be, and it kind of validates you, because he’s not uninterested in making you cry about half of the time. But he’s also mean, so mean, and he takes your kindness like a snippy dog at first.

It’d start off with him burying his face in your hair. You’re jerking him off on the couch as Truly, Madly, Deeply plays. What? It’s romcom night! He’s not really watching anyways, he’s got his eyes closed and his pants pulled down to his mid-thigh, still dressed in his work clothes aside from the shoes he’d kicked off as soon as he walked through the door. He’d make little whines and mumble stuff and slowly stutter his hips up to fuck your hand in return. he tries to imagine it’s your hole — any of ‘em, really.

“Thank you, baby, good job, taking over like that,” you encourage when he slams his hips in a nice little rhythm that still stutters and falters, but it’s almost like he thinks he’s fucking you. He cums like he is, with a quick, “oh ff-fuck,” mere seconds before he creams your hand, pulling back to make sure your palm catches it as it spurts out the tip. It drips down his dick and onto his balls, but at least it didn’t hit your face or his shirt. He thanks god his instincts saved him some minor embarrassment.

But your hand doesn’t stop. you keep on keepin’ on, even as he softens. He squirms, and jolts when you lean to cup his balls.

“Fuck you, what am I, your joystick?” he whines as you massage his sack and jerk his cock.

“Just one more. I barely got to enjoy it the first time, you came so quick.” He moans at that, thighs clenching.

“Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, kissing down your neck to your collarbone. It’s more for him than you, really. He likes your taste, breathes deeply in shaky, sharp breaths. He sounds like he’s getting hurt, like someone just knocked the breath from his lungs. He softens, a little more than you like. You straddle him.

“What do you want,” you say it as a soft demand. It’s less of a question. “Speak, use your big boy words.” It’s like you’re talking to a dog — a very beloved dog, one you let sleep at the end of your bed.

“In the whole world, or—?”

“You know.”

“This’n,” he slips his hands under your skirt. Feels around, finds your pussy lips, pulls them apart at the front through your panties. His eyes can’t see through fabric, and he doesn’t lift the skirt, he’s just being sort of sweet, you think; innocent, almost. Which is surprising when you consider that he’s basically the devil any other time.

“What’s ‘this one’? Hm?” you ask sweetly, like coaxing his obedience, like making him say it out loud is comparable to making a dog do a trick.

“Your cunt? Pussy? The slip-n-slide in? Do you just like hearing dirty words?”

“You know what to say,” you say, kissing the arch of his nose and then the tip. God, you don’t ride his face enough, you gotta do that more often, utilize his assets.

He whines and bucks his hips, cock jostling and jumping. You’re so beautiful above him. Why does he think he can treat you like this? You’re not one to joke with. You’re a goddess. Your presence is so unique. Irreplaceable. You’re strong, tough in ways he’s not sure he can really replicate. He’d have to either kill himself or become the next unabomber if you left him. There’d be nothing left of him, no remnants, not a scrap.

“Your royal hotness, may you please stick my teenie-weenie in your peeeeeerrrfect puss-puss?” he has a giggle, a drunken one. Your feet curl under the backs of his knees. He likes their warmth, he likes that it makes him feel both big and strong while also being your fucking accessory. You can climb all over him if you want.

“Nope. Try again,” you allow him a second attempt, knowing that he’s still high off of having just came and still twitchy. You grind down on his soft cock.

“C-Caaaaann…I please, please use your pussy?” His hands grip your upper thighs.

“My what? My what pussy? Is it nice?” you decide to coax, tease him, playfully bully him even, into being sweet.

“No, it’s mean—,” he says, half-joking. “Yeah, yeah your pussy is nice. It’s…pretty. It’s warm. Your pretty pussy.” All the blood is rushing from his brain back to his oversensitive cock at the thought of it.

“Good. Nice boy,” you clumsily fumble on his lap to tug your panties down and off. “Real good job.” Your skirt is lifted, held in your hands.

He’s salivating. Literally feels his mouth water a little bit. His eyes are staring, just completely entranced by your pussy, gentle hands softer than you can imagine spreading your pussy lips and drooling over your clit.

He grabs his dick, lines it up with your hole. You’ll allow it, you’ll clench over his pulsing, leaking tip begging to be let in and grin as he lets out some breathy, sharp exhale. His brain is marshmallow fluff, a fluffernutter sandwich, and his hips twitch up to try at slipping the tip inside, just the tip, please.

“Uhn-uhn,” you angle your hips in a position where his tip is still pressed against your hole, but you know he can’t get in. “You can’t handle that right now.”

“Fuck you,” he mumbles, so immature. “Yes I can. I’m — do you think I’m some cuck, king of celibate town?”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence where he kind of cedes his case. Like yeah, okay, you might be just kidding, but you’re kind of right, so I give up. He’s all pouty and twitchy. You roll your hips, his tip slips from the home it’s made, edging at your pussy, and the girth of his cock spreads between the puffiness of your labia. It has you both a little surprised by how good it feels.

“This is cruel and unusual punishment,” he whines, hips twitching up and down in an almost embarrassing fashion, slightly out of control in his own body from having came mere minutes ago and now this. Yeah, maybe he can’t handle being inside, but he wants to be close to you. You’re ruining his whole ‘romance’ thing.

“Then it’s perfect for you,” you say, riding his cock — except, his cock between your pussy lips. He grips tight, whining, bucking his hips beneath you as you try to keep a steady pace. His eyes look watery.

“Mean. You are mean tonight, bitch,” his voice wobbles. It’s so, so silly, because you know he’s exactly where he wants to be right now, and it puts you in a nice position. He’s all yours right now, and you like, kind of can do whatever the fuck, and he’ll just nod his little head and pucker his lips for a kiss.

His hips twitch and twitch as you rub back and forth on his cock, and fuck — the tip prods your hole again, just a little. Your hole flutters, because he’s just leaking, and his cock is so hot and throbbing against you. You give some small mercy, your hands caressing his face, thumbing over his eyes and eyebrows down to his scruffy cheeks, kissing him sweetly and chastely. He follows you, tugs you back down, and you allow it. Perfect moment to let his tip push in, right?

He gasps into the kiss but doesn’t — can’t stop kissing you. You think you feel him trying to mumble your name through his lips mashing against yours sloppily and desperately, you think you feel wetness around your mouth and a little dribble of drool as his tongue puppy-dog kisses you.

“Told you, you couldn’t handle it right now.”

“Huh?”

You just snicker. He’s out of it, and even just the tip has his balls drawing up, fucking ready to blow his load.

“Nothing, Romeyrome,” you kiss a speckled mark on his cheek near his nose. “Go ahead, get it over with,” you encourage.

“Get it — ffuck, fuck, over with? You’re so romantic, I’m buying you a Nicholas Sparks novel to compare notes with.”

He whines as you laugh, partly because of your laugh, because he made you laugh. You reach down to rest your warm palms on the throbbing base and oh fuck, he can’t take it. He jerks his hips, grabbing your free hand to kiss the inside of and mumble your name into. He playfully gnaws at it until his head falls back. His eyes still look up at you, even when you look away.

You run your hand down from the base of his cock, your hips still wiggling with just the tip in, and you cup his ballsack, rolling them with your thumb and squeezing them gently.

“Let me in, let me just cum inside, I can’t hold back anymore,” he pleads, breathless.

“No,” you grin, “you can’t take it, honey. Just the tip.”

But he’s a tricky boy, tricky — the minute he gasps, clearly cumming, he lifts his hips off the bed, holding your hips down, pushing all the way in, nice and deep. You decide, okay, that’s his choice, next is mine, right?

You ride him as he cums and long after, and fuck, he’s making almost pained noises. He’s crying, actually, haphazardly gripping your thighs.

“Please, please, can’t you just, fuck, you’re milking my load out of me, fuck you, you — you fuckin’—,” he can’t finish his sentence without an awful, heartfelt little whine, loud as can be, like a pitiful puppy. “Incubus,” he finally finds the word, his thighs twitching beneath yours, hips stuttering up.

“Cum for me, too, what — what do you, can’t you just tell me what to do,” he’s so desperate in his pathetic babbling that it’s sweet.

“Just enjoy it, Roro,” you soothe. He’s so sweet. You can’t resist planting little kisses across his face. He leans into them all.

“Can’t stop, Jesus, can’t fucking stop—,”

“Then don’t stop, get it all out.” You kiss away a few stray tears, and he’s already came once outside of you and once inside, but from how he grips your hips and tries slamming up into you from beneath, you’re pretty sure he came a third time.

There’s a pause. You stop only for a moment, and he’s practically wheezing trying to catch his breath. It’s been a while, you get it; cumming three times in a row, not having to hold back for some fucking fulfillment of a role or whatever, it exhausts you both.

“You gotta let me eat your incubus pussy now.”

“Nooo,” you say, the way one would scold a puppy. “You need to go to bed, honeybunch. That’s that. Doctor’s orders.”

“The doctor’s a quack, let me at it. You drained me dry with your cum-sucking vampire-pussy, so can’t you just let me…sate you?”

You kiss him on the lips.

“I’ll use my face washcloth to clean you up if you drop it.”

He shuts up real quick. Makes a motion of zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

#sorry this is so late #mutt is supreme #roman roy #hbo succession #succession #roman #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #romulus roy #roman x reader #roman x you #succession fanfic #succession smut #succession imagine

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