#imagine if they did have an ending with these two

[randominchident]

the good luck charm

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. max vertsappen x reader ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

you kiss max's forehead one race morning "for luck". he wins. it becomes a thing.

It started as a joke. As most things do.

You were both exhausted and half-dressed in a hotel room in Monza, Max trying to stretch out sore muscles while you searched (unsuccessfully) for your other shoe. Something about the early morning, the nerves, the jetlag, the weird sleepy love you always carry for him—it made you lean in, cup his face in both hands, and press a long kiss to his forehead.

"May your tires be warm, your brakes be cool, and your competitors forget how to drive," you said solemnly, eyes still half closed.

He gave you the flattest look imaginable, though the end of his ears blushed a faint pink from the kiss. As they always did. “What are you doing?”

“Blessing you,” you replied, as if it was obvious. As if it had happened a hundred times before. "So you win."

Max snorted, jokingly thanked you for your wise words, and then won the race.

The next weekend in Baku, just before he headed back into the garage, he stopped in front of you. Didn’t say anything. Just stood there with his helmet under one arm, brows raised. Waiting.

You blinked at him. “…Yes?”

Max looked around and then lowered his voice. “Aren’t you gonna do your weird blessing thing?”

You smiled. You were obnoxious about it. You made it a whole scene. Two hands to his cheeks, a huge dramatic smooch in the exact middle of his forehead, a made-up chant about tire degradation and curses upon the other drivers' decision making capabilities. He pretended to hate it.

He won again.

Now it’s a ritual. It practically part of his warm up routine.

He always finds you. Doesn’t matter if it’s Silverstone or Suzuka, if you're sitting quietly in hospitality or standing in the garage trying not to get run over by a mechanic on a scooter. He finds you. Every single race.

Helmet in hand. Suit half-zipped. That laser-focus look on his face until he sees you. Then it softens—just slightly. His jaw unclenches. His hands flex like they want to hold something. You.

You rise on your toes, brush your lips across his forehead, whisper the familiar words: “For luck.” Because sometimes he doesn't need the big speech, the dramatic show, the curses upon the other cars—he just needs you.

He never says much. Just nods, or gives you the tiniest smile. Once, after a win, he muttered “works better than pole” with a blush he tried to pass off as heat exhaustion.

You didn’t tease him for it. Much.

One day the camera's pick it up, and suddenly it becomes clear that your little tradition is not a secret and private as you once thought. Even the Sky Sports commentary team has something to say:

“And there’s Max Verstappen’s girlfriend giving him—what’s clearly become—a bit of a pre-race tradition. Can’t argue with results.”

It's nice. You like being part of the flow of race day. Its nice to be relied upon, even for something as small as this.

And then… one weekend, you’re not there.

You tried. You really did. But your flight got cancelled, the backup was overbooked, and Red Bull’s private jet was full of engineers and people who don’t think “I give Max forehead kisses before lights out” qualifies as essential personnel.

You call him from the airport instead, bags at your feet, coffee in hand. Max offered to send his own jet back to pick you up, but it would never have arrived in time.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I really wanted to be there.”

Max is quiet on the other end. “You tried.”

“I’ll scream your blessing into the sky from here, okay?”

He huffs a laugh, but it sounds tight. “Might need it. Grid’s a mess.”

“You’ll handle it. You always do.”

You want to say more. Something sappy. But you can already hear noise in the backgorund of the call. He's being pulled away by Christian or Helmut or someone asking about tires. So you settle for, “I love you. Drive safe.”

His voice softens. “Love you too.”

Back at the track, people notice something’s… off.

He’s still fast—because of course he is—but there’s a tension in his shoulders. The calm, razor-sharp version of Max that usually shows up on race day feels thinner, more like a mask.

Christian corners him right before the anthem. “You good?”

“Fine,” Max says. Short. Clipped. Cold.

But his eyes keep scanning the garage, looking for something—or someone—he knows isn’t there.

The race goes okay. Not amazing. A few things go wrong. His start is messy. Pit stop’s a second too slow. He finishes second, which for anyone else would be great, but for Max it’s a shrug and a “whatever.” Second place always hurts. Always has for him.

After the cooldown room, after media, after debrief, he ducks away from everyone and finally calls you.

“You cursed me,” he says.

“Sorry?”

“I had no forehead kiss. And now look. P2. Disaster.”

You smile, curling up in the airport lounge chair. “Guess you need me, huh?”

He exhales like he doesn’t want to say yes, but then, quietly: “Yeah. I do.”

And then impossibly quieter: "I always do."

The next weekend, you’re definitely there.

He doesn’t even say hello when he finds you sat in the garage. He just walks up, stands in front of you, and tilts his head down expectantly.

You blink. “Wow. No ‘how are you,’ no hug—just forehead service?”

He glares at the ground, but there is a small smile on his face that you can just barely see. “Do the thing.”

You grin, place your hands on his cheeks, and kiss him gently on the forehead.

“For luck,” you murmur.

He exhales. Content. “There it is.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Says the one casting spells on my head.”

You lean in a little. “They work, don’t they?”

Max just smiles. The small, secret one. The one he saves for you. Then he nods.

After he wins that race, he dedicates it to the team. Then, on the radio, voice quieter:

“Tell her thanks. It worked again.”

You hear it. Of course you do. And when he lifts the trophy, champagne flying, there’s a tiny smile on your face that says yeah. you’re welcome.

[norristeria]

You're a Strange One ! LN04

SUMMARY 𝄡 Being Oscar's personal assistant is easy. However, you cannot help but think his coworker is the strangest man you've ever met.

PAIRING 𝄡 Lando Norris x Oscar's PA! FemReader

TAGS 𝄡 Fluff.

WORDCOUNT 𝄡 650.

NOTE 𝄡 This is just a little something I had in mind. This is more of a pairing exploration than a real one-shot. I don't know what to make of it, tbh. Do you think this couple has enough potential for a one-shot? <33

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

You never imagined that you'd end up working as Oscar Piastri’s personal assistant after getting your degree in communications summa cum laude.

If your parents had nearly had a heart attack upon seeing their daughter “reduced to a servant” after paying for one of the country’s most prestigious universities, you, on the other hand, had learned to bless this twist of fate.

Because it was indeed fate you had to thank for the way your life had turned out. People underestimated its power far too often, but you had come to cherish it and to welcome it back whenever it decided to reappear.

Fate made its grand entrance in your life one night in 2023, after yet another rejection from talent agencies and management firms. Internships, professional experience, glowing references—none of it seemed to matter to the big corporations. What mattered were connections, and you had none.

That night, you'd had two glasses of red wine, perhaps more, your cheeks streaked with mascara and frustration.

Fate, ironically methodical despite its name, had chosen that precise moment to show up in the form of a job listing on a website whose name you no longer remember. What you did remember, however, was how your eyes widened as you read the salary and perks.

One cover letter, three interviews later, and suddenly your life was split between racetracks, England, and Monaco.

Every day, you thanked fate for putting Oscar Piastri in your path.

He was easy to work with: a coffee without sugar in the morning, a calendar of sporadic appointments to manage—mostly concentrated on race weekends—and very few public appearances outside those. In short, a normal guy, refreshingly different from the awful clients you'd heard horror stories about since entering the strange world of celebrity.

The only blemish—though not quite that, more a curiosity you hadn’t anticipated—was that working for Oscar Piastri meant regularly crossing paths with Lando Norris.

And you didn’t quite know what to make of him, except that he was oh so very strange.

The first time he saw you, he tripped.

You hadn’t even had time to shake his hand, and Oscar hadn’t yet introduced you.

Your eyes met, the Brit blushed furiously, then went sprawling to the ground. You stood frozen before exchanging a baffled look with Oscar, who merely sighed and hauled his friend back to his feet.

The following encounters were no better.

By the third one, you concluded that Lando Norris must have some kind of speech impediment—he couldn’t seem to string two words together around you. Not even to answer simple questions like “How are you?” or “Do you know where Oscar is?”.

Instead, he’d stammer something utterly unintelligible, then vanish, leaving you to wander alone through the endless corridors of the McLaren Technology Centre in search of Oscar.

And now… now he stared. All the time. Without saying a word. You had never felt more awkward in your life.

Even now, you couldn’t escape those green eyes, burning hotter than the Bahrain sun. The McLaren garage was buzzing as the race neared, yet Lando remained still in one corner, eyes locked on you.

Too busy fetching cold towels and water bottles to cool Oscar down, you had ignored him at first. But now that the Australian had his towels, his bottle, his headphones, and his phone, there was nothing left to keep you distracted.

You finally looked up. Your gaze met Lando’s just as he took a sip of water.

Startled, he choked, spraying water all over his engineer—who shouted something you couldn’t quite catch. Lando floundered through an apology, cheeks crimson.

Your eyes met again.

He smiled—sheepishly, like it hurt—and turned around.

Before walking straight into a wall.

You frowned, shook your head and turned your attention back to the race schedule.

Yes. Lando Norris was definitely the strangest man you had ever met.

[shockercoco]

Peas in a Pod

Elias 'Stack' Moore x reader

Warnings - swearing, fluff

Word count - 4814

a/n - this was supposed to be posted like two weeks ago after I saw the film, but I couldn't figure out an ending lol. I'm currently out for the summer so hopefully more time for imagines, but no promises. I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading :)

Summary: After years have passed since the twins left town, you figured your feelings for one of them had dissipated and you had moved on, but that doesn't seem to be the case.

“I know that ain’t Pea I see,” you hear a voice say from behind. 

It’s a voice you haven’t heard in years, but it sounds just as familiar. You’re looking at the selection of produce in front of you, but you freeze at the sound. It only takes you another moment to turn around to reveal Stack standing there before you. 

You had been a friend to the twins ever since you all were children. You spent most of your childhood ignoring the chores your mama had instructed and hanging out with the twins instead. 

As you all got older, the boys started making a reputation for themselves, and of course your mama would tell you to leave them alone, but you never stopped. The twins weren’t that bad. Well, at least not around you. 

You would be lying if you were to say you never had feelings for one of them. After spending the majority of your life with them, it became inevitable and you found yourself developing feelings for the more eccentric twin, Elias, but everyone called him Stack.

It wasn’t a secret that you were closer to Stack, though everyone just figured it was because of Smoke’s more quiet and laid back demeanor. You never told anyone about your crush except for Mary, one of your close friends, and of course she encouraged you to confess, but you never did.

When the twins left home after their father’s death, you weren’t mad at them. How could you be?  You were happy for them. You knew what they had to endure, and you were just glad they took the first chance they had to live out their dreams.

You also thought your feelings for Stack would fade over time, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. 

“Stack? Is that really you?” You question, your eyebrows raised at the man in front of you. 

Stack’s hands are tucked in the pockets of his dress pants, which match the rest of his nicely tailored suit. A hat sits atop his head as he stares back at you with a handsome smirk on his face.

“Yes ma’am, it is,” he nods. He removes his hat as he takes a couple of steps closer towards you.

Stack was definitely in shape before he left town, but that doesn’t compare to how he looks now. You’re taken aback, but before you end up staring too long, you clear your throat to say something.

“I almost didn’t recognize you with that giant bush sleeping on your lip,” you joke, referring to the thick, but neat mustache growing above his lip.

You can’t help the small smile that spreads across your face as you hear him chuckle.

“That’s real funny. I should be the one surprised, though. I mean, look at you. You finally grew into that forehead of yours,” Stack smirks.

You scoff. “How dare you,” you playfully say as you fold your arms across your chest, your tone light.

“No, how dare you. The ladies happen to love how I look, especially the mustache,” he grins proudly, rubbing his fingers over the facial hair.

“What are you trying to say, that I'm not a lady?”

A loud laugh leaves Stack this time. 

“Well, if the boot fits,” Stack says, holding his hands up in surrender. He knows how much you hate him saying that. He watches with a smile as you roll your eyes and shake your head at him. “I’m just playin’, Pea, you know I’d never say such a thing.”

Pea was a nickname you had become stuck with after meeting twins. One day while the three of you were out playing as children do, an older woman that everyone knew from the church had pointed at how you all resembled peas in a pod. 

After that, Stack had decided to call you ‘Pea’ once as a joke to which you just brushed off. Somehow, though, the nickname stuck and ever since then everyone refers to you as Pea. 

Hearing that name come out of his mouth after these years makes your stomach flutter and your skin heat up, which only makes the hot summer sun feel worse. The sweat on your skin suddenly feels more prominent with Stack’s eyes on you.

You start using the hand fan you were holding to try and provide yourself with some relief.

“What brings you back in town, Stack? I know it isn’t just some friendly conversation.”

“And why can’t it be?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows. You give him a look calling his bluff, and he easily quits the act. “You still know me well, I see.”

“Unfortunately,” you smile.

“Smoke and I are openin’ our own juke joint. We figured we split up so I can recruit some entertainment while he handles some other business. Tonight is the openin’ night. That is, if we get everything situated in time.”

Your expression contorts in confusion. “Juke joint? Where?”

“One of the abandoned barnhouses not too far from here,” Stack responds, motioning in what you assume is the direction of the barn house.

“Where the hell did you get the money to buy all of that, and who was dumb enough to take it?” You ask, lowering your voice as you look around you.

“You know how those folks are—all they care about is the cash. It wasn't a problem.”

“And they just took your money like that with no questions asked?”

“Oh, the man asked questions,” Stack nods, “he just didn’t get the answers he wanted.”

The two of you are quiet for another moment, both work for the other one to crack, before you both burst into laughter.

“Still the same after all this time, huh?” you ask once you both settle down, although, it’s not really a question.

“I’m not changin’ for just anyone,” Stack responds, shooting you a wink.

Before the two of you could continue catching up, someone else runs up behind Stack calling his name. You didn’t notice how much the two of you were stuck in your own world until Stack turns away from you, breaking you out of the trance.

“What the hell do you want, Sammy?” You hear Stack ask.

Your eyes widen as you move to look around Stack’s frame, but your confusion turns into surprise as you take in the young man standing in front of him with a guitar hanging from his neck. “Sammy? As in lil’ Sammy? As in Preacher boy?”

When Sammy finally notices your presence, he gives you a shy smile and a tip of his hat. “Oh, Pea, what are you doin’ out here?”

“I should be asking you the same thing? Does your mama know you’re all the way out here?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“She knows I’m with the twins, that’s all that matters,” Sammy says.

“I’ll take that as a no then,” you give him a look.

Sammy opens his mouth to say something else, but Stack hits the back of his head before he could continue. Sammy lets out a yelp as he looks up at Stack, while one of his hands rubs his head.

“You better have a damn good reason for comin’ over here and interruptin’ us.”

“Slim’s gettin’ tired of waitin’. He said to hurry up before he changes his mind because he’s getting older by the minute. He also said that there’ll be plenty of time to talk to pretty women t’night,” Sammy explains, glancing at you for the last part, but it goes over your head.

You follow Stack’s eyes when he looks over to Slim in the distance, a harmonica in one of his hands and a bottle in the other. Classic.

Stack mumbles something that you can’t quite hear, before telling Sammy to run off and that he’d be over in a second.

“I usually wouldn’t listen to a drunk, but he’s right. Daylight is wastin’ and I got some other things to take care of before tonight,” Stack admits. “You’ll be there, right?”

Oh.

“And what if I had plans?”

You don’t.

Stack laughs. “Oh, really? What plans?”

“You say it like you don’t believe me,” you raise an eyebrow.

“Oh, no, no. I’m just curious about these plans.”

“I’m a grown woman, I don’t have to tell you anything,” you huff.

“Fair enough, fair enough,” Stack nods in agreement. When he realizes you aren’t going to say anything else, he continues. “C’mon, Pea, it’ll be worth it. There’ll be good food and drinks along with good entertainment.”

“I take it that Sammy and Slim are part of that entertainment?” You ask. 

You tear your eyes away from Stack and to the small crowd beginning to form around the musical pair. Even from a distance you can hear Sammy’s powerful voice accompanied by Slim’s skilled fingers playing his harmonica.

“You know I only like the best of the best,” Stack smirks. “So, what do you say, Pea? It’ll be just like old times.”

“Hm, I don’t know. It’s not safe for a lady at night,” you say.

Yes, you do want to go, but parties were never really your thing. You usually chose to stay home when someone asked you, especially when the twins would try to encourage you to sneak out when you were kids.

“And I’ll make sure you’ll get home safe, there’s nothin’ to worry about. C’mon, I know Smoke is bringin’ Annie, don’t make me be the only one without a date.”

“Oh, so that’s why you want me to come, so you won’t be alone?” you give him a look.

“Of course, why else would I want you there?” he plays along, trying to keep a straight face, but fails.

“There’ll be plenty of other women without a date there to keep you company.”

“Yeah, but that don’t matter if I want you to be the one keepin’ me company,” Stack tells you.

And just like that all of those feelings that you thought were gone resurface, fluttering through your heart and stomach.

You hesitate for a moment, before finally giving him an answer. “I guess I could come. Besides, I want to be there to see if this juke joint of yours fails.”

“Now, that’s just wrong.”

~

Later that night as you’re getting ready, you can’t seem to calm your nerves. It’s just the twins—it’s just Stack. 

And it’s not like it’s a date anyways because why would it be? Or maybe it is? No, Stack just invited you so you could keep him company and so the two of you could catch up. But, why do you specifically need to keep him company?

You’re checking your appearance in the mirror, stuck in your thoughts as you turn from side to side,, when Mary walks into your room already dressed and ready to go.

“By the time we get there, the damn party will be over. What is the hold up?” Mary throws her hands up for dramatics.

“Would you relax? The party doesn’t start for, like, another 30 minutes, and we don’t want to be too early do we?” You tell her, looking at her through the reflection in the mirror.

“I just figured you’d want to be early in order to have as much time with Stack as possible.” Mary smirks at the glare you give her. “I mean, it’s been so long since he’s last been in town, aren’t you excited? I would be.”

“I don’t know if that’s the word I’d use.”

“Why, what’s wrong? Don’t tell me you're nervous.”

Your silence is enough of an answer. You fiddle with your dress and adjust yourself in order to avoid looking over at Mary. Mary scoffs and walks over to stand next to you as you look in the mirror.

“Oh come on, you can’t be serious. There’s no reason you should be nervous over that man. You guys have been friends since birth-“

“Not birth, it was more like-“

Mary raises a hand to cut you off and finally makes you face her. “You know what I’m trying to say. You guys have practically known each other since the beginning. Stack knows everything about you and you know everything about Stack—well, that is excludin’ whatever the hell the twins have been doing these past couple of years.”

“That’s exactly my point,” you throw your hands up before taking a step back and placing your hands on your hip. “I mean, yeah, we’ve written to each other while he’s been away, but it’s been a while since we’ve actually talked face to face. It seems like he’s still the same, but if he’s not? What if he actually has changed?”

You can feel your nerves picking up at the thought of talking to Stack tonight and all the possibilities of how tonight will go.

Mary knows you like the back of her hand, and your overthinking doesn’t go unnoticed. 

Mary rolls her eyes. “Please, that man is exactly the same as he was the day he left here. Besides, you saw him earlier today, were you nervous when you were talkin’ to him then?”

“Well, not really, but I didn’t exactly have time to be. He snuck up on me while I was shopping and we just started talking.”

“Exactly, the two of you are so close that you started talkin’ like nothin’ has changed. Believe me, everything’ll be fine, and when Stack sees you in this dress, he’ll fall to his knees to propose. If he doesn’t just come and find me so I can handle his ass.”

You snicker as you walk away from Mary to finish getting ready. She follows right behind you.

“Relax, Stack is not going to pick me to propose to out of all the beautiful women in this town. Not to mention all the women he’s probably encountered during his travels.”

“A girl can dream can’t she? Just suckin’ all the phone out of my night.”

-

The noise from the juke joint can be heard all the way down the road, the sounds only getting louder and more clear as you and Mary approach. Your heart speeds up in both anticipation and nervousness as you take in the scene. 

Dozens can be seen either arriving on foot or by car, their excitement obvious from miles away. The land outside the farmhouse is packed with vehicles and it’s obvious there will be many more given the constant flow of traffic.

Cornbread’s eyes widen in surprise as he watches from the entrance as you and Mary walk up. He greets you with a smile.

“You two look gorgeous, but I’ll be damned, Pea. What brings you here? I know this ain’t your kinda scene,” he points out.

You playfully point at Mary, “You’re looking right at the culprit. She convinced me to come.”

“I shoulda known,” Cornbread shakes his head in amusement, but then his expression shifts to confusion as he looks at Mary. “Wait a minute, ain’t you married? What are you doing out this late?”

Mary folds her arms across her chest. “I could ask you the same, don’t you have a family to take care of?” Mary asks while folding her arms across her chest.

Cornbread puts his hands up in surrender. “Stack offered me a good amount of cash to be here tonight, I’m not turnin’ that down.”

“And I don’t blame you. Now, are you going to let us come in or are you going to leave two ladies stranded outside all night?” Mary questions.

Cornbread lets out a laugh, but quickly moves aside to let you both in.

The dusty, rundown appearance of the barnhouse from the outside is a completely different vibe from the atmosphere on the inside. 

Slim is playing his heart out at the piano at the front of the room while people laugh and dance to the music. Lights are hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the space as guests move around freely. The mouthwatering smell of freshly fried catfish fills the air along with the smell of sweat and alcohol.

“Wow, the twins definitely outdid themselves didn’t they?” Mary admits as the both of you take in everything.

“They really did,” you murmur mostly to yourself, your mind still stuck and amazed at how Smoke and Stack pulled this off.

“We can’t start dancing without a drink,” Mary smirks.

“Yeah, you can, it’s easy,” you say.

Mary gives you a look before saying, “Well, if you’re going to talk to Stack, you’re gonna need a little something in your system.”

You open your mouth to object, but you decide against it.. Alcohol does loosen you up, which would help you get through the night.

When Mary doesn’t hear a response, she pulls you towards the bar. After Mrs. Chow hands you both your drinks, the two of you decide to linger at the bar.

“Is that Lil Sammy over there flirtin’ with a girl?” Mary asks you. 

You turn to look in the direction of Mary’s eyes to, sure enough, see Sammy flirting with a woman—a woman who looks a little bit older than him.

“Isn’t she married?” Mary continues.

“Well so are you, but you’re still here tonight,” you say. 

This makes Mary whip her head back towards you and send you a glare, one you pretend to ignore as you take a sip of your drink and pretend to be really interested in the guests dancing to the music.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she says after you don’t respond, before a smile grows on her face.

Suddenly you hear a gasp come from behind the bar, catching your attention and making you turn around. You see Smoke, Stack, and Annie come from a back room.

“Am I seein’ things or is that really Pea standin’ in front of me at a party?” Annie smiles, her hands on her hips.

You playfully roll your eyes. “No, you’re not seeing things.”

Annie makes her way from behind the bar to give you a hug, and after she pulls away, Smoke comes up to do the same. The way Stack looks you up and down as you hug Smoke goes unnoticed by you but not by Mary as she watches with a smirk. Stack notices Mary’s eyes on him and quickly clears his throat.

“I’m glad you came,” Stack says, smiling at you as he comes up to hug you last.

“Well I couldn’t miss the famous Moore twins’ big grand opening,” you beam, motioning to the large crowd that has formed. Smoke smiles at your compliment. “I don’t know how you guys pulled it off, but everything looks great. I’m impressed.”

“Nothin’ is too out of reach for us,” Smoke adds with a nod. Stack claps his brother on the back as a sign of his agreement.

“Alright, enough of this lovey dovey shit. Let’s get this place poppin’ like fish grease and get it started for real!” Stack exclaims with a smirk.

Stack walks over to Sammy, pulling him away from the woman he was talking to and motions to the stage. As Sammy joins Slim at the front, people begin to gather around to listen. 

Now, you knew Sammy was talented, but watching him sing his heart out and play the hell out of his guitar gave you goosebumps and made you emotional.

It was obvious that you weren’t the only one who felt this way as you notice everyone’s expressions change as they begin to cheer and clap while they move their bodies to the rhythm. Close friends, couples, and singles make their way about the room.

Much to your dismay, Mary pulls you into the dancing crowd. You’re uncertain of what to do with yourself at first, but after seeing everyone in their own world, the body movements just come naturally. 

You watch with admiration and a smile as Smoke grabs Annie to join him for a dance. Even after all of that time apart, Smoke and Annie still seem to be as in love with each other as the first day they met. The little bit of alcohol you have on your system does make a difference.

Your eyes wander just a little bit to the right and you see Stack dancing with two women. It’s no secret that the twins are attractive, but oh how you wish for just one night where women didn’t climb all over them—mainly Stack.

After a while, you become overheated and overstimulated with all the hot bodies surrounding you. Once you tell Mary that you’ll be back, you leave to find a place to take a breather.

You come across a set of stairs and somehow find yourself overlooking the inside of the entire building. 

You catch sight of Mary from your spot and laugh to yourself at how easily it is for her to find some stranger to dance with.

Eventually, someone else makes their way up the stairs and stands next to you. Your nostrils become aware of him before your eyes do.

“Too much goin’ on down there?” Stack asks as he leans on the railing and takes in the view.

“Just needed a little break,” you shrug, your eyes still on the crowd below you. “What about you, don’t you have some guests to entertain? This is your place after all.”

“As an owner, I have people to do the entertainin’ for me. I just make sure there are no problems,” Stack responds, the smirk evident in his tone.

There’s a moment of comfortable silence that grows between the two of you. Earlier you were stressing on what would happen once you saw Stack, but here he is, and your heartbeat is still somewhat calm.  

“How’s everything, Pea?” Stack asks, breaking the silence. 

“Oh, you know, just getting through day by day and taking things slow,” you shrug.

“What are you up to these days?” 

“Helping my mama out with the shop most days. When I’m not working I’m running errands around town or helping others out.”

“How’s the shop and your mama doin’?”

“Mama’s great. Her happiness really comes from the shop and being able to have a safe place for people to come back to over and over again. We’re still getting plenty of customers, and we’ve recently renovated it.”

Stack nods along. “That’s good, that’s good. How are you doing though?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You already asked that.”

“I phrased it differently this time, though. First time was more of a casual ask and this time I wanna know what’s really goin’ on with you.”

You’re slightly taken aback by his forwardness, until you remember that this is how Stack has always been.

Stack turns his body to face yours, keeping an elbow on the railing. “Come on now, Junebug. It’s been a long time since we’ve sat down and talked down and talked, y’know?”

“Is this really the time to be having a conversation like this?” you ask.

Stack is quick but genuine with his reply. “For you, there’s always time.”

The nerves the alcohol had been holding back, finally hit you with full force after hearing his words. Your heart rate begins to pick up, and you’re suddenly extremely aware of the high temperature in the building. 

You wish you had brought a fan with you.

Stack’s eyes never leave yours as he waits for an answer, not even when you hear a glass bottle break somewhere in the crowd below you. 

You give him a shy smile, but you have to tear your eyes away from him.

“I’m fine, really Stack. You know, you never told me exactly how you got the money for all this.”

Stack scoffs. “I know you didn’t just try and change the conversation.”

“It worked didn’t it,” you laugh. Stack shakes his head in disappointment, but he can’t help the laugh that slips out.

“That’s alright, Pea. There’ll be plenty of time to talk since Smoke and I aren’t goin’ anywhere anytime soon.”

Your heart flutters.

“Really?” you ask, and you wish you would’ve been able to stop your voice from changing pitch. 

Damn.

“Just admit that you missed us,” Stack smirks.

“I don’t know, I mean, I feel like everyone’s life has been calm without you and Smoke being here to terrorize everyone.”

“That was one time! Plus, Jimmy had it comin’. I can’t let anyone steal from us and just walk away without a scratch,” Stack throws his head back as he laughs.

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you had to chase him all over,” you join in, beginning to double over in laughter. 

“It was either me or Smoke, and that boy Smoke was fumin’ when he found out, so it was better that Jenkins dealt with me instead of him,” Stack snorts.

“Whew, I remember that day like it was yesterday. Y’all had the whole town confused with Jimmy running by screaming bloody murder.”

“And I hadn’t even done anything to him yet!”

You clutch your stomach as you try to collect yourself, wiping the tears from your eyes as you blow out a breath. Stack does the same alongside you. 

“I really did miss you, y’know,” Stack admits.

And there goes your breath.

“Of course you did, why wouldn’t you,”you say, causing Stack to smile, “but I’m sure you and Smoke had plenty of fun on your adventures with seeing new places and meeting all those new people. You didn’t meet any women after all this time?”

“There were a few women, but none of 'em kept me interested.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, yeah, I forgot who I was talking to for a second. No one is good enough to tie you down, right?”

Stack pretends to think to himself for a second, before speaking, “Well, there is one person that I’m thinkin’ about.”

Your heart drops so low it almost hits the first floor of the barnhouse.

You clear your throat and keep your eyes in front of you. “And does this woman know that you like her?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What makes you say that? I’m sure you’ve made your flirting pretty obvious.”

Stack has never been one to keep his feelings to himself. If he sees a lady he likes, he’ll pursue her and most likely succeed.

“She’s on the shy side, so I don’t think she realizes. She keeps to herself and thinks others don’t notice her.”

Who has he been hanging around with? Didn’t he just get back in town. 

“I’m sure she does.”

“Nah, I don’t think she does,” Stack shakes his head with a sly smile. “You wanna bet?”

“I don’t have anything to bet, but sure.”

“How about if I’m right and she doesn’t know, then you have to dance with me,” Stack smirks, raising his eyebrows at you.

“And if I’m right?”

“What would you like in return?”

You contemplate for a moment. “For you to tell me in detail how you got the money to afford this barnhouse.”

Stack rolls his eyes. “You’re on.”

“So, who is it?”

Stack turns toward the railing once again, a teasing look on his face. “You sure you just don’t wanna know because you’re jealous?”

“You think you’re funny, huh?”

Stack chuckles in response, before going quiet. Then, there’s a moment of silence where you give him a look as you wait for an answer.

“You.”

You.

You feel your heart stop. “Me?” you ask, not fully believing him yet. Stack gives you a nod, and you try to look for any sign of lying on his face, but you can’t find any. “Stack, be serious for a second.”

“I am, Pea.”

All of a sudden, the music being played in the background just sounds like noise. You feel nauseous, relieved, confused, and happy all at once. 

“What the hell do you mean?” you ask. Your voice is quieter now as you look up at him. 

Before Stack could give you an answer, he’s interrupted by a voice from down below.

“Yo, Stack, come on down he-!” Sammy shouts, but cuts himself with the look that Smoke shoots at him. 

Stack clenches his jaw and whips his head towards Sammy. “Sammy, I’m gonna come down there and beat your ass. You need to learn when to read the room. Matter o’fact, I should come down there and break that damn guitar.”

“But you gave it to me.”

“And now I’m about to come take it away,” Stack replies causally. He makes a move to turn and walk down the stairs, but stops himself to look at you. “We’ll finish this conversation later, I promise,” he tells you, before giving you a quick wink and continuing down the stairs.

Then you hear, “Don’t run now, Sammy.”

Mary’s eyes meet yours from below, giving you one of her signature smirks. 

Like what you see? Check out my masterlist :)

[ironwoman18]

The Inner Thoughts

"Where were you yesterday between nine and midnight?" Asked Detective Smith.

"At home, watching the football game" you said calmly but your heart was pounding on your chest because of the awkward situation, you have no idea what happened.

"Who can confirm that?" Asked the man in a threatening way.

"About ten more people. My family and some friends from work" you answer without a doubt.

He nodded, he already asked them and they said the same, you never left the house, you never held your phone from the table and you never looked suspicious about anything outside of the match.

"Did you have troubles with Damian Miller?" He asked.

"The usual... He hated when my dog or my kids ran in his front yard, he threatened to put poison if my dog dared to eat his flowers... My dog never did that but he blamed him anyway... He's an American Pitbull so... Of course he must be responsible..." You rolled your eyes.

"Did he ever hurt your dog or kid?" You shook your head "did he ever hurt other dogs or kids?"

"No idea, but he wasn't loved in our neighborhood" the police sighed.

"You may go" you left the room, confused but glad they didn't seem to be interested in you.

You are a good neighbor, never bother others, also saying good morning, good afternoon, good evening; always kind with the old ladies and good with animals.

Not like Miller, so whatever happened, he deserved it.

When you arrived home and discovered what happened. Apparently, he ate some kind of seafood that poisoned him and ended up dying. Good, no one will miss him, you thought.

Weeks passes and your bully coworker dies in an unexpected accident. He was working on a building, checking a few small details when he lost his balance and fell off a tenth floor, dying instantly.

Since he was always annoying you, you were the first one to be interrogated... Again... But as before you weren't near the place of the accident.

In fact you were miles away from the accident and one hundred people, workers of the construction company you work for, could testify it.

The detective was suspicious but all the proofs were there. You weren't near the accident or the dead body but he was someone who was tied to you somehow.

You were also a little worried, why those two had died in stranger situations and why them? Why did Daniel, the bully, die just as you imagined a thousand times? Why did Miller die after you wish the clamps get him sick?

Then... The realization hit you... Your thoughts killed them... No... It can't be... It's a coincidence...

So you made an experiment. You thought of a bad politician in your community. He stole thousands of dollars that were meant for the community. You imagine his car falling off a cliff and dying.

You turned on the TV but nothing happens "I'm an idiot... I need to stop watching those animes..."

You went to the kitchen and cook your lunch and an hour later there was a headline.

The Side Hill Community Leader died when his car fell off a cliff.

Your face was white as a ghost and you felt dizzy. It happened, just like you imagine. But, how? You don't know but you have to be careful.

You spend months trying to have happy thoughts, not wishing anyone's any harm and when you do, it was a minor event like a twisted ankle or a broken arm and it happened.

You were scared of thinking the worst things and causing a tragedy.

But... One day your partner was fighting you and, in rage you had the worst thoughts, the worst dead your mortal mind could ever imagine.

When you realize it... It was too late, your mind already imagined all the details and you can't back it up... It was a matter of time...

You just sentence to death the love of your life...

Your harassing neighbor dies. Then a bullying coworker dies in a crash. Within a month, people you’ve had bad blood with start dying. The police are watching you closely—but you haven’t done anything… at least, not that you know of.

[luvchaew]

moonlit lakes, fireflies, etc | yjw

sitting across from a young man on a train, you were sure you hadn't seen him before. not in this life at least. so why did his gaze make you so comfortable? why did his touch feel so familiar, so right?

“we'll meet again, young lady Jeong.” 𓈒𓈒 joseon dynasty prince 양정원 𖹭 joseon dynasty lady!reader, prohibited love, s2pl? wc𓈒 7.9k — maybe proofread ≛ ﹙ft. twice nayeon, idle miyeon, boa, mentions of enhypen jake﹚

here you'll find ౨ৎ fluff fluff fluff, past life, kinda time travel, paradoxes, angst (i tried guys go easy on me), they kiss once, jungwon is kinda obsessed, banter (except it's cute), mentions of kidnapping, killing, and whatnots, jungwon gets ‘spanked’ by his own family, male chauvinism bcs of the time it's based on (i do not support it of any kinds!), potential forced marriage, runaway attempts, ‘open’ ending.

[ ♬ 🏮 ] ——— this idea is something that i thought abt long ago but haven't had the opportunity to turn into words properly before. it is slightly inspired on ‘my demon’ (the past life stuff ofc) and i recommend listening to this song which also inspired me a lot! i really enjoy how this turned out so i hope you like it as much. this is my first kind of ‘long’ fic ever and if i'm lucky you're gonna enjoy it, hehe. xoxo 𖹭

𝑚. 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

Busan Train Station, 2025

immediately when you stepped on the wagon, a penetrating gaze found you.

somehow, it affected you more than the chilling air of trains that you claimed to hate more than anything.

it had been a terrible day. so bad that you were going to your personal escape — the Joseon Dynasty Tombs of a young Yang family Heir or anything you used to go with your godmother, all the time as a kid — at 11pm, to run away from the problems real life brought you.

you expected to find the train empty given the hour, like it had been many times before, but today you had company. normally you would have sat really far from the young, good-looking man that eyed you, but you didn't.

holding your heavy luggages, you sat across from him. your eyes didn't leave his face for a second, scanning his features, admiring his cat shaped eyes, almost feeling how soft his hair seemed to be.

you hadn't seen him before. never.

yet, he looked familiar. he looked safe. he looked like home.

during the two and a half hours ride, both of you didn't speak.

but there was no need to.

because your eyes did all the work, having a secret conversation you seemed to be awkwardly aware of.

you could imagine what his interest might've been, what kind of song he might’ve listened to, how his voice might have sounded, what his name could've been.

Surroundings of Deoksugung Palace, 1752 —— Joseon Dynasty

young master Yang. the start of all your troubles and also the end of your peace. it was a offense to our late King Gwanghaegun how handsome he was, however, you had already created a common sense that charming young masters used to be the pettiest.

“young lady Jeong!” he shouted your name, his tall figure waving in your direction smiling widely. if you weren't surrounded by a dense forest, you would've ran away. literally. “i figured you'd come here, it really is a pretty sunny day, isn't it?”

you were supposed to study today. your father told you that royal ladies had in their duties to understand the world and be aware of what threatened your daily lives — rival families and japanese invasions, for example. therefore, you walked towards the lake with a few texts from your favorite scribes tucked under your arms and your long hair braided simply, a ddanggi keeping it steady.

“i’m here to read today, okay? do not bother me, thank you in advance” you muttered, sitting down on the rocks by the lake with your back turned to him, trying to focus on the water current and how the sun reflected its sunlights on it beautifully, some fishes jumping on the water from time to time.

jungwon stared at you, but continued speaking, his voice coming to your ears like music, “my maid has been looking for me for about an hour, did you know that? thus, it's very thrilling.”

“you do know that my uncle wants to kidnap your father, don't you? haven't you got nothing better to do besides walk all the way here to bother me?”

“no?” he cleared his throat, blinking at you and settling himself closer, the semi-transparent hat that he always wore accentuating the height difference between you. “my mother yelled at me last time saying that if i came here again she'd lock me up, but i like to play with fire, you know?”

“because you'll be the next Joseon King and nobody can disagree with you, isn't that it?” you guessed, turning a page on your parchment, pretending to be interested in it when you were most certainly not. all of your five senses were focused on jungwon: on how close he was, on his warm and minty breath close to your ear, his legs nearly touching yours, his dimples looking so soft you wanted to touch it.

the worst part of meeting him wasn't even the 3-hour-lecture you were forced to hear after in the high-pitched voice that your mother had when possessed, but the way you lost all of your self control near him. the environment also didn't help. birds chirping, acacia leaves falling occasionally from the trees, sun rays reflecting on his skin as they were put there especially for jungwon.

“exactly! see, that's why you're nice to talk to, you comprehend— wait, did you hear that?” he shifted in his place, now suddenly looking behind you, eyes widening.

yes, you had heard it. noises, voices, screams that were closer each time. your heart beat faster, loud thuds in your ear.

“young master Yang, are you here? young master Yang!”

you turned to face him quickly, your head suddenly dizzy. standing up, you grabbed his long, muscular hands and rushed towards the other direction, entering the sea of trees you had in front of you. his fingers were sweaty against yours, and you were able to hear his uneven breathing behind you. from between the light tree trunks, a group of purple-dressed maid servants arrived on the place you'd just been, some of them panted from the jogging, while some were so mad they nearly let smoke out of their heads. they served jungwon’s family. they were after him, not you.

“you have to get out of here. go that way, i’ll distract them” you squeezed his hands, pointing discreetly to the direction he should follow. he looked at you, his pupils small from fear, and nodded silently. the panic was mutual, and even if you didn't like to agree with him, both of you were in danger now, finding out what could happen if you didn't react isn't something you're psyched about.

the occasions where jungwon's relaxed, easy going demeanor changed to a serious, clumsy one, were rare, and they left you wondering how that man would one day be the one to sit at the royal golden throne.

you watched him as he disappeared in the woods, his broad shoulders soon nowhere to be seen. however, the women didn't seem to intend to leave, and after some analysis, you noticed they had your book. they couldn't bring that to the Yang's Palace, or you'd be seriously in trouble.

“oh, hi! it’s a pleasure to encounter you on this alluring afternoon,” you muttered with practiced politeness, offering them an awkwardly-wide smile. the maids seemed not pleased at all to see you, some of them furrowing their eyebrows at you and some, worse, refusing to bow. “you have, um, my parchments, so if i could, by chance, get them back it'd be.. lovely”

you forced yourself to smile so much your cheeks hurt, fake honey dripping from your voice. the shortest maid — which you assumed to be the chief servant — shifted, analysing your books in what felt like an eternity, and finally handed them to you, the contempt in which she looked at you leaving your stomach in knots.

“i’m assuming you weren't at all with our young master, am i right?” she hissed, enunciating her words just enough to tell you she knew.

“y-yes, correct. haven't seen him in several weeks, actually”

some other woman chuckled mockingly, the undivided attention leaving you overwhelmed, a tone of red appearing on your neck. ‘they don't have evidence,’ was what you reassured yourself, despite your awareness that King Yang believed in whatever their maids said. he was known to be a very diligent man, but if there was something you admired in him was the trust he had in people. you could never.

“i guess i'll have to leave, unfortunately. if you hadn't come unannounced i would have invited you to a tea, but we didn't prepare anything whatsoever. au revoir!” you excused yourself, rushingly leaving the lake area and sprinting towards Deoksugung.

they looked at you amused. first, youth was truly lost, where was your respect at when you lied blatantly? second, how could you dare to speak french? your ancestors would be turning on their graves if they heard this.

evenings at the Palace were always monotonous. eunuchs didn't walk as much, royal chefs prepared simpler dishes, servants didn't had so many errands to run.

right now, you were curled up on the floor, a novel — that you shouldn't be reading because ‘ladies should be occupying their heads with something other than romance crap’ — in your hands as you tried to focus solely on those vertical words that no longer made sense.

you were fantasizing again about jungwon's hand in yours, his starry eyes looking in yours, the way he trusted you fully and whether he may or may not have gotten scolded way back home. or if he even arrived home in the first place, when a servant knocked on your door, maid Kwon right next to him.

“there’s an unidentified letter for you, young lady Jeong. i insisted that we shouldn't deliver it, but the eunuch told me to just be by your side as you read it.”

you nodded, fixing your wrinkled skirt and tossing the novel to the side, not even bothering to hide your ‘wrongful’ act. the servant bowed and left, leaving you alone with the friend that had been with you since you remember — perhaps she was the person you liked the most inside the Palace, although lady Cho would be deeply upset to hear that.

you unfolded the thin paper carefully, your heart beating faster than before since you recognized the handwriting immediately.

the same that sent you tiny notes telling about his new punishment or how his father let him do an important royal duty.

jungwon's.

Bo-Ah sat by your side, her blue and white hanbok resting next to your own dress, a suspicious grin adorning her features.

you tried to hide the letter from her, but there was no way she would let you escape this one. not when she understood who sent you that.

“Dear young lady Jeong,

i’m writing to you to express my gratitude for what you did today. can you believe that my mother didn't even question me about where i was? told you she's starting to trust me more!

also, on my way home, i think i found our new encounter spot.

if you'd like to accompany me, i’ll be going there tomorrow at 4.

meet me by the water well behind Deoksugung. see you there,

from the very handsome next King of Joseon.”

the next hours resumed in maid Kwon telling you that it was a terrible idea for you to go, your mind working nonstop to finding ways of leaving the castle in an hour you shouldn't — 4pm was exactly when you had to take a bath, and the last time this routine was delayed was your birthday, because you had a celebration going on — and on your loyal friend, lady Cho, your father's youngest concubine, managing to persuade the royal guards to let both of you out for a stroll around the Palace.

what they didn't know, of course, was that the stroll in question involved you meeting the Yang Jungwon.

the area behind Deoksugung was one of the prettiest, yet it was dangerous.

many hunters had been found mysteriously dead over the years, maybe because the Yang's also had access there.

but you preferred not to think about it, since you were currently entering that same territory to, ironically, hang out with the rivals’ heir.

“when do you want me to return so we can come back together again?” Miyeon gently asked as if she tried recalling it, your arms locked as you jogged around birds and squirrels.

you faced the light-blue sky for a minute, questioning yourself once more, “around 6 would be nice, right before sunset.”

the concubine nodded, her braided-full-of-ornaments hair graciously shifting in the wind. you didn't speak much, the sound of green leaves being stepped on the only thing you could hear.

however, that was until you saw jungwon at the well.

he politely made a reference to lady Cho, who excused herself with a beautiful-educated smile, and walked towards you, a playful grin resting on his face.

“you’re about 3 minutes late. you're well aware that the future King doesn't like to wait, aren't you?” you rolled your eyes, approaching him and walking side by side to his tall figure.

“save it for your servants, jungwon.”

“i beg your pardon?” he nearly choked, raising his tone of voice. you chuckled at the flabbergasted expression he turned to you, an offended sound leaving his throat. “when did i allow you to be this casual, y/n?”

you gasped, dumbfounded, “woah! i'm older than you, okay, jungwon? and since when have you known my birth name?”

“why? shouldn't i?” his hand found the small of your back, by which he guided you through the trees. you felt a shiver running through your spine, but tried to shake it off, muttering nonsense to him as a response.

you kept silent the rest of the way, his long fingers caressing the jeogori of your dress as a reminder that he was still there, steps in sync with yours. somewhere in between it, you raised your eyes to his neck, spot in which you noticed a deep bruise, the dark purple mark idling his skin. perhaps it had always been there or he could have fell on his way back.

“shut your eyes, y/n” he whispered, lips close to your ear, and you willingly did it, fluttering your eyelids close, not before nagging again about why you can say his name and he can't say yours.

jungwon brought another hand to your shoulders, keeping you steady as you walked towards what you assumed to be the aforementioned ‘new encounter spot’.

after a few steps, his feet seemed to settle, and with another whisper in your ear, “we’re here”, you got to open your eyes.

if his firm hands weren't still glued to your body, keeping you standing, you were sure you would have fallen.

it was, by far, the prettiest thing you've seen yet.

a mesmerizing, kilometers long field of daisies of all colors and peonies stood by you. the vast camp of flowers mixed with the grass as the sun lit nature up, clouds adding up to the view with its calm and slow movements.

jungwon tilted his head to look at you, and you closed your dropped jaw, gulping some saliva, “what, do you not like it?”

“no! i mean, yes.. no!” you stuttered, blinking up at him, “it’s perfect, really. how did you find it?”

“well, during my way back to the Castle, i may have gotten lost, and ended up here.” he explained, dimples showing up on his face as he smiled, satisfied. “shall we?”

he offered his hand to you, which, for some reason, you accepted, holding his palm in yours as you ran like kids towards the field, grass getting stuck on the hem of your dress in a so not discreet way. you giggled and yelled at the world, not caring about appearance, and for a second, it felt like you had conquered the world. conquered happiness. you soon got tired, and both of you threw yourselves on the flowers, crushing the petals with your weight, leaving evidence that you were there, for real.

it wasn't a dream, after all.

but here, sat up next to him, laughing out loud about something neither could figure out what, it sure felt like imagination.

“this is, like, my first time seeing a lady with not-braided hair.” he mused, pointing a finger to you, “you’re such a gross princess, Jeong y/n”

you ran a finger through your hair, noticing the disheveled state it was in. it was also your first time having unbraided hair in front of anyone besides your maids and mother. you should have been embarrassed, but you weren't, because feeling natural with jungwon looked so simple. so right. “oh my buddha— look at yourself first, your goreum is literally untied.”

he tilted his head slightly to look at you, the bruise now more visible, your gaze flying to it unconciously. “paying that much attention?” he teased, words light, but didn't move an inch. maybe he was too comfortable to tie it, which was alarming, or perhaps he just didn't care at all.

you rolled your eyes, insects and flies flying over you, making low buzzes that only added to the environment, “i’m already getting under your skin, huh, your royal highness?”

“yeah, you're one of my few pet peeves” he pouted, nodding, visibly content with the name you'd just called him by, looking like he would give you a compliment or something, ‘respecting your Majesty is a very noble act, young lady’

hours passed by, and shortly the sun was setting, its borders fading on the horizon as the sky marvelously adapted to a mix of orange and pink. both of you lay down on the grass, staring into the clouds, in silence for once, enjoying the world pretending there was no violence, no rivalry, no danger.

just the two of you.

Miyeon was briefly back to get you, and you couldn't ignore the eyebrow she raised catching both of you so close, admiring the universe with such calmness of who had years to do so. you gave a last glance at jungwon, who playfully grinned and whispered, barely loud enough for you to comprehend, “see you here again the day after tomorrow, same time?”

you stared at him for a while, but then nodded, a shy “two in the afternoon is better” leaving your throat. after the small change, you ran away with such embarrassment of who had just made a confession.

“no, look, i swear his jeogori undid naturally” you explained to lady Cho, voice strained, defensive, “what? no! i wouldn't sleep with a Yang, for the sake of the queen—”

two days later, you found yourself walking through the same woods, destined to the very same place.

today, you were accompanied by lady Im, who insisted she had to deal with some stuff downtown, though given the way her lips curled into a smirk often, you highly doubted it. she was your uncle's favorite concubine, but was also known for escaping the Castle on multiple occasions. for multiple different reasons.

well, Nayeon had to run some errands, and you wished to meet a person you surely shouldn't, it was a win-win situation, right?

“am i late?” you asked in reaction to his confused face, scanning you a few times, his hair already messy from the field and a small spider climbing his shoulders. you wouldn't tell him about it, though.

around the spot the spider climbed, you were able to have a peek of the soft skin below the thick fabric, and, for some reason, another deep bruise could be seen, this one already yellowish, a recent-looking scar next to it. it was probably nonse, and you should really stop looking, otherwise he'd ask you with that smug smirk why you were staring that much.

“not at all, just— what is that?”

“that what? oh,” you raised the basket you were holding up for him to observe, proudly smiling, “my royal chefs cooked some hodu-gwaja this morning, and as it's a speciality of Deoksugung, i thought i should offer you this one-in-a-lifetime experience”

“love the humbleness” he teased, although he made a sign for you to sit down, and when you did, the dark-haired boy rushed to the snacks you brought, picking up one and handing you another, “i’ve always wanted to taste these. they're pretty famous there, eunuch Park talks about gwajas all the time.”

your eyebrows raised. you were genuinely content with having done something for him, something he'd like. you watched him as he took the first bite, his cat eyes lighting up and dimples making presence on both sides.

“how is it? perfectly amazing?”

“i don't like to admit,” he took another bite, the walnut cream getting stained on his cheeks, “but, seriously, this is so delicious.”

you giggled, playfully punching the air in victory, and also dug in, breaking the walnut’s shell in two with your teeth, “it’s dirty, look, over here”

jungwon put his fingers on the apple of his face, trying to clean up his pale skin, except it was the wrong cheek.

you chuckled at him, nearly choking on your sweet, “no, the left cheek. how will you be the next leader of your reign if you can't even—?”

it would've been fine, but you decided to clean it up for him, your smooth skin rubbing his face softly as the creamy stains falling on the grass. his breath visibly hitched, a weird-kind of hiccup leaving his parted lips when your fingers lingered longer than they were supposed to. your eyes widened too, and you retrained your hand immediately, trying hard to laugh it off, “shy, huh?”

he awkwardly laughed too, though it was audibly forced, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

even if both of you didn't acknowledge it, for the rest of the afternoon, the tip of his ears continued pink and you talked way less, focused on fixing an ornament that stuck wrongly.

weeks had passed, and Hansik had just happened. you were supposed to be happy, because you enjoyed that spring festival more than anything, and moreover, the man your family wanted you to marry would be presented to you that very day.

you wanted him to be handsome, laid-back, easy to talk to, tall but not too much, the pointed black hat fitting his head perfectly, purple durumagi covering his broad shoulder in an unfairly good way, dimples so adorable and cheeks so soft you want to poke it.

perhaps, you wished for Jungwon. or an exact copy of him that you could marry without getting disinherited.

but you were too afraid of letting yourself acknowledge that, since wanting someone you can't have is something you don't want to be trapped into.

the real man wasn't like that whatsoever.

his figure almost matched your height, he was probably twice your age, his face full of wrinkles and a mustache so old-fashioned you swore you'd seen it on an old portrait of some late King.

if it already weren't the worst it could've been, he was extremely rude, and impolite, and didn't treat you like a person at all. you already knew that was your position on society ‘naturally’, however, marrying that man would mean you wouldn't have the opportunity to be heard. to be seen. to be yourself.

and to think that your own father wanted you to marry that, that your own mother was okay with it and even tried extra hard to please that.

you felt nauseous. wished you could punch that and leave a mark of blood on the smirk that had on its face. wished you could just run away.

perhaps that was why you sent jungwon a crumpled letter in the middle of the night, a mere “meet me there in an hour?” written, your rushed handwriting and the way your hands shaked noticeable even if few words were there.

you got off mid-night, earning pointed looks from guards, but you just couldn't bear to stay there anymore.

not when everyone around seemed a traitor, nor when lady Cho — who you trusted deeply — tried to convince you this was for the best.

walking towards the recently well-known woods, admiring how amazingly the moon lit everything up, you tried to reassure yourself that it was fine, because if that great bright light was still shining for you, the only reason was that there was hope, somewhere buried deep inside you.

when you arrived at the field, breathless from walking, jungwon was already there.

you broke down. completely.

your legs moved faster than your brain, the leather pastel-green shoes crushing daisies on their way, leading you to the only place you felt safe.

jungwon.

your heart pounded violently against your ribs, fluttering loud enough for someone to hear it. your lips parted slightly, maybe to say something, maybe just to breathe. your tongue felt too heavy. your mouth too unsure. so you just throw yourself in his embrace, hiding your vulnerable self into him, tears finally brimming down on your face. wrapping your arms around his neck, you touched it firmly, and with the tip of your fingers, you felt a thick scar, not even close to being cicatrized.

his face furrowed a little, mouth closing to a thin line, but he didn't say anything. just held you closer, wrapping an arm on your waist, keeping you grounded, otherwise you weren't sure you would keep standing. his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, chest tightening after seeing your usual confident self in such a broken state. he had no idea what could've happened, but tapped your back lightly either way, comforting you. reassuring you. “y/n, breathe in three with me, yeah?”

your broken sobs soaked his shoulder, a damp of tears wetting his beautiful durumagi, and you forced yourself to look at him, a new knot in your throat threatening to release. slowly, you nodded, breathing in a large amount of air that almost got stuck in your glottis, however, he encouraged you, eyes focused on your face.

“that’s it. good. breathe out now, follow me.” his hand softly stroked your column, so gentle you wanted to cry further. with a frown of concentration in his face, accompanying the movements of your throat, following your gaze and staring directly into your eyes, you noticed what you shouldn't. jungwon was the one to look at you like a person.

not as a trophy wife or an heir generator.

but as you, Jeong y/n, the stubborn person that couldn't tie laces nor cook a simple bowl of rice. that preferred to read romance over politics and secretly wanted to wear pants just once since it looked like it felt nice.

jungwon seemed to comprehend all of that, and in a sudden move, you caught yourself telling him about everything. more than you should.

“and the man, he was—” hiccup, “not even nearly as handsome as you, and—” hiccup, “he called me ‘future housewife’ every single time he wanted to refer to me,” hiccup, “i can't— can't remember his name. my good almighty, he makes me nauseous. he's the worst person ever, he's—”

he just nodded through it, making questions midway to tell you he was listening, engaged. “and can't you tell your mother about it?”

you sadly chuckled, another single tear falling down your cheek, “tell her what? that i loathe the man she sweet-talked to all evening?”

“this whole situation is ridiculous. i don't understand why they'd want to do this with such a.. special girl like you.” he murmured, admitting something more to himself than to you, accepting a fact he never did before.

you mattered. if he was this mad right now, it's because you matter.

“no, it's— i shouldn't be this sensible, all my ancestors went through the same. my mother, my grandmother, my great grandmother. everyone” you played with your hanbok’s sleeve, facing downwards, sniffing occasionally after some words.

“that’s what i can't understand. why'd they want to do the same to you? have they been happy?” his voice broke just slightly, anger breaking through his vocal cords, fists clenched. “hey, look at me.” jungwon cupped your chin gently, tilting it up, forcing you to stare directly at him.

the emotions crumbled back at you again, since he was right. halmoni always complained about having to abandon her one genuine love and omma insisted that it ended up being nice, though only because she conceived you. why would they want to make you go through the same thing?

perhaps the lines had started to fade, or you were too tired, but you melted into his touch, eyelids heavy, whispering: “can we spend the night here? i don't want to go back to the Palace.”

he observed you for a minute, paying attention to your features, apparently making a decision, before nodding, expression calm. his forehead relaxed, a small smile curling on the corner of his mouth. with a smooth movement, he took the upper part of his lilac jeogori off, — what left your eyes agape for a split second — laying the coat down on the grass so you could sleep comfortably. he tapped the area with his hand, indicating that he wanted you laid down, and you willingly did it, the tension of the day starting to fade away.

jungwon settled himself by your side, some centimeters of distance between you, still touching legs.

yet, he seemed so far away.

you wanted him closer. and closer.

you were starting to lull when he spoke up again, voice quieter, careful. “may i suggest something? perhaps we could like.. run away, get married, live content together. just the two of us.”

you short-circuited. your almost calm head now full of thoughts, possibilities, doubts, and deep down, a futile sting of hope.

marriage. marrying jungwon. you were aware of those stupid promises, things Young Masters promised to trap Ladies, things they never stuck on. however, he seemed so genuine. so trustworthy.

were you this stupid?

it wasn't a prudent decision, you were sure of it, but the offer seemed so tempting, so right. and jungwon was the only person out there you knew that could make you happier, wasn't he?

in seconds, you found yourself thinking about it. actually pondering it.

“where would we.. go to?” you naively asked, eyes meeting his in a gaze that brought you a million sparks, his pupils a dark tone of brown, slightly dilated.

“there’s this reign that will be inherited by my colleague, Jaeyun, Young Master Sim. it's quite far and he's a nice person. i think.. we could go there.”

you hummed softly, taking into account everything you'd risk. everything you'd lose. but also everything you'd win.

it was foolish, however, before your mind really processed it, you found yourself nodding, “okay.”, he smiled gently, tilting his head to ask — silently, like a confession — if you had thought long enough about it. if you were right about this. — instead of questioning it more, also because you were afraid of what you would've found, you agreed again. “when?”

he stared at the sky above you, the stars, the moon and how it lit you perfectly. how it lets you be even more gorgeous than what you already were. “tomorrow night?”

“right. yes.. that'd be awesome.” you awkwardly said, terrified of the consequences, but hoping that it'd let you finally be free, happy. that it'd prevent you from being trapped forever. that you'd spent the rest of your life with the boy you gave — secretly, under covers — your whole youth.

jungwon eyed you with a determined, firm expression and with a sweet whisper, he wished you goodnight, breath fanning on your skin, long lashes shutting down beautifully.

everything crumbled down on you again, your certainty nearly disappearing the more you thought about it, the evenings writing with maid Kwon or running through the Palace earning new meanings. because maybe it was the last time you'd lived those things. because you'd run away from it to protect yourself. to protect who you were.

the night passed in a blur, insects' sounds on the background fading to let you finally rest, even if it was the last peaceful night you'd had.

the first thing you noticed when you woke up was warmth, then, jungwon's body, and only a few moments later you noticed the position you were in.

curled up against him, head buried on his neck, arms gripping his sides as if you were afraid he'd let go. he laid flatly on his back, an arm draped over your figure, tracing absent-mindedly patterns on your skin, caressing it smoothly, announcing that he was awake and chose not to move.

your breath hitched, the rhythm in which you inhaled earlier faltering. you had no clue about how you ended up like this, but it felt good. warmer, safer, softer. slowly, you opened your eyes, the light infiltrating your orbes intensely. when you sighed, he turned all his attention to you, lips hovering just above yours, breath hitting your cheeks constantly.

“ ‘morning, sleepy head”

“what? i didn't sleep that much, did i?” you asked, tilting your head, your faces lining themselves up immediately.

you could kiss like this.

“the sun tells me it's past 11 in the morning, got anything to say?” the air that left his mouth traveled to you, and as if gravity was pulling you, you leaned in further, noses almost touching

“yeah, that you're a very comfortable pillow” you smugly grinned, rubbing your eyes to adjust to the clarity. when you opened your eyelids back, he was closer. leaning in just slightly, giving you a peek of how nice it felt to have him this near.

you didn't back away. didn't flinch. and when his hands held you tighter, bringing you impossibly closer to him?

reaching out to press your lips together felt natural, right, simple.

the touch was exquisite, a surprised gasp leaving his throat and going down yours. both of you remained still, adapting into the new territory. some time later, his free hand moved to cup your cheek, barely there, but pressing slightly when he tilted his head to kiss you deeper.

this time the kiss is slower, softer — his mouth opening against yours with such yearning, you nearly forget where you are and why you were there. his lips trail down to your jaw gently, then back up, brushing agonizingly slow before capturing your bottom lip again with a sigh. you turned your head to give his tongue more access and—

you weren't sure who backed away first, but soon your bodies were distant, both embarrassingly panting, his coat under you moving so much you assumed it could feel the tension.

you kept there, staring at each other for what felt like a minute, and you hurriedly sat up, a flush of soft red creeping up on your neck to the tip of your ears. “see you at the same time as always.. correct? um, bye.”

your legs involuntarily stood up, and in a rush, you ran — tripping and stumbling occasionally — in the direction of the Palace.

jungwon remained there, layed down, fingertip trailing his lips with disbelief, the memory of your lips touching his so vivid he swore to himself he'd never forget it. the first encounter of your lives in such a delicate, deliberate way.

Deoksugung was tidy as always, warm toned walls high and empowered, leaving the impression of a well-known strength you were tired of. the faint coat of arms, the one you remembered by heart, stamping its large gates, inviting you to face its insides one more time. your muscles forced you to continue walking, though your brain was already giving red-signs since you began to see the family royal guards.

yet, here you were again. chin held up, conveying a strand of confidence you didn't have whatsoever. or at least trying. because you were way smaller than the Palace, way weaker than the guards, feared way more than the maids who run through it all the time.

it didn't welcome you so well, either. knowing gazes accompanying you wherever you went, the main hall greeting you with its haughtiness. due to the hour, you assumed your grandma would be busy, thus you followed straight to your room, earning some poorly done bows in the way. already in there, you rushed to pack essential things: three full sets of hanboks, a parchment paper and a pen, emerald ornaments for your hair, some snacks that royal chefs delivered earlier and you didn't properly receive — since you weren't there, of course — and few other whatnots.

it felt weird. unfamiliar. strange.

perhaps the effect shouldn't be so immediate on you, but it didn't look like the place you should call ‘my house’ anymore.

suddenly, your bedroom didn't seem like yours anymore. the roof nearly suffocated you, the room spinning and leaving you dizzy, the memory of why you were doing that back to the center of your brain.

your freedom taken away, the image of the man you were supposed to marry haunting you again. the corner of your eyes burned, a knot forming on your throat and threatening to snap at any moment.

and when the tears formed, watering your eyes, you remembered about jungwon.

the warmth he brought to you, his irises entirely drowning in the dark of his pupils. his voice, that always flew to you like music, so kind it incinerated your heart. his face, that lightened up slightly and was stupidly good-looking even when he told you that you should do something as foolish as run away, or when it was flushed from touching his lips with yours. his touch, gentle and featherlight, leaving your skin burning wherever it made contact with.

you felt the urge to go back to him as soon as possible, escaping for once and forever the place you lived your whole life swearing it was your home even when it didn't feel like it.

therefore, with your heart in your hands and a faux confident facade, you willingly left by the main gates for what should be the last time, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone — mainly due to the great fear you had of getting caught, but it didn't really matter. because regardless, that life wasn't yours anymore.

may we be finally free, right?

sprinting towards the stone well behind Deoksugung and consequently the flower field you'd left only some hours ago, you tried to shake your thoughts off, concentrating on what was beyond your view this instant. what you couldn't see just yet.

you sat down and admired the peonies, sniffing in some of them and letting their scent invade your nostrils until it made you confused, head with a growing ache. looking up at the marvelously lit sky, you couldn't help but noticing that jungwon was meant to be there by this time, but possibly, he could be late, or you could be early, there was no way to be sure unless you'd return to the castle, what you'd rather not do.

as the sun moved to the west a bit more, you sat down on the grass, opening your woven purse and carefully choosing a sweet to eat — after debating, you ended up with the dasik, a charming and colorful cookie that you were supposed to have with tea, such drink you didn't have. you chewed it with impressive disgust, noticing for the first time why those were meant to be consumed with something else.

somewhere between eating dasiks and checking the few stuff inside your bag, panic started to flood into your senses, though you couldn't precisely pinpoint when.

there was a reason for him to not have arrived yet, correct? you shouldn't be having a breakdown, you knew it.

but that boy was the one to be annoyingly punctual. to never not show up. and even if he had something going on and couldn't be there, he'd always warn you. have a way to contact you.

he always knew exactly what you'd do next. where you'd be.

and that's why, like a dumb person in love, you decided to stay, wait for him. every single noise earned a double check, every bird chipping was intensely looked at. there, lay down now on your back, you closed your eyes and counted many times from zero to a hundred.

46, 47, 48, 49..

you opened your eyes, the urge to release tears already there, your back sore from the position. he wasn't there yet.

63, 64, 65, 66..

the hard floor left you wondering how you managed to sleep there, and you missed jungwon a little more, because his heat made these things possible. he wasn't there yet.

89, 90, 91, 92..

the bugs annoyed you a lot, and you promised they were solely the reason why you lost yourself in your count and had to return to 90 once again. and yes, he wasn't there yet.

somewhere in between that process, when the stunning moon was starting to rise, a specially quiet, but loud enough for you to hear sound caught your attention. lifting your head and sharpening your senses, a tall, slim shadow began to appear in your view.

you blinked up multiple times, confused, and when you mustered up all the courage left on you to look up at his face, it shouldn't have, but your heart stung.

it was jungwon.

just a paler, weaker, visibly sick jungwon.

a new bruise appeared right below his eyes, one that looked, if that was even possible, deeper and more serious than the other ones. alongside it, a scar marked the side of his nose, the cut looking profound even from a distance.

you stood up so fast it took seconds to your vision to normalize, and ran towards his figure like a crazy person. your dress spinned and its wrinkled form no longer mattered to you.

“oh, y/n..” he smiled, a grin that didn't reach his eyes but was enough to make his dimples show. his features showed a sign of relief and disbelief altogether, like he couldn't believe you were there. you kept waiting.

“jungwon! my goodness gracious! where have you been? i mean.. are you doing okay?” your hands held his shoulders, and when he made a face of pain, like he would scream loud and hoarse, you moved away from him, eyes widening.

“i’m fine, really. and i'm sorry i kept you waiting.. it's just..” he shook his head, desperate for something to say, and showed you a festive-looking jar, holding it on the direction of your face. “i have.. something for you”

you stared at the pot, and if his voice wasn't lower, hoarser than before, you would’ve fought against that idea. however, soon your fingers reached its lid and you freed what seemed like hundreds of fireflies.

they danced around you, rising on the horizon and lighting up the flowers, making them more beautiful than what they already were. the insects flew gracefully as they were dancing, so in sync it left you wordless, mesmerized. amusement swimmed to your eyes, and with a gasp, you turned your body to face them completely, having the illusion of peace for a minute. exquisite flies also started to join in, the soft buzzing filling your ears, making you leave out a genuine smile.

jungwon kept his eyes on you the whole time. and with a soft sigh, he whispered, confessed: “we’ll never be seeing each other again.”

at first, you didn't react. the words lacking the impact they should have. when it finally made sense to you, you blinked up at him, tilting your head, questioning if you'd heard it correctly.

“what? why? what.. what do you want to say with that? what about getting married, and your friend—”

he cuts you out, voice barely there, “it’s.. i’m sorry. i shouldn't have promised you what i knew i couldn't guarantee.”

you broke. spinning your body to face him again, the fireflies’ light leaving him so beautiful it was a sin, you tried to understand it. comprehend what was happening. but you couldn't.

as if reading your thoughts, he dropped his head, tone laced with guilt, “my mother, she.. she has always known, you know.”

you didn't move. you refused to. your mind didn't get it yet.

“she discovered us when we were little, and according to her, we are getting closer now. she was here when we.. planned all that.” despite the pain, he kept steady, feet firm on the land so he was sure he wouldn't fall on his knees to apologize. to supplicate for your forgiveness.

even if he didn't deserve it.

“and can't we just go? now? you're here now, aren't you?” you tried to reach out for his hands, but he backed away, and you bit your bottom lip in desperation, in disbelief.

you had to keep breathing, but it was almost impossible. your rib cage hurt, and for a split second, maybe you were hiper ventilating

he sadly chuckled, “no.. we can't. they're going to come after you if i'm not the one to go.”

“but—”

“no buts. i'll be moving away, far away. and, if you stumble upon my grief, to protect you, i endure.”

your chest burned. and you shook your head in denial continuously, eyes begging for him to give a second thought. the silent that stretched later was agonizing, and you only break eye contact when he dropped a silent tear, one that said more than what a thousand words could say.

“this is not fair, jungwon—” your voice broke, but you resumed, “you didn't even give me a choice to choose for myself. how could you think about leaving like that and then i’ll continue here, alone? is this because you couldn't bear to live without even having a clue of where or how i’ll be?”

he didn't deny, but didn't use his voice either, his pupils getting redder, the margins filling with water

“i don't even know if you'll be alive, jungwon, please.” your tone was coated in something deeper than sadness, and if he wasn't already being harsh enough in himself, he would've given in to you. he inhaled deeply after your words in an act that left you worried sick, and instead of running away like a coward, in a move of a self-control he wasn't sure he had yet, he touched your wrist gently, stepping closer, heart fluttering inside his body, and put a silver delicate bracelet on your fist, the cold metal a contrast to his burning hot skin. “we'll meet again. it's a promise.”

you looked into his eyes, really looked at him, and there, while he walked further from you, you saw just a terrified, pathetically in love boy.

the last thing you said to him, while stupidly playing with the bracelet in your arm, “those bruises.. they were because of this, weren't they?”

he stopped for a second, and continued, back turned to you.

he let you there, alone, emotions surrounding you and leaving you in a dark solitude. the world around you crumbled, and amidst it all, there was jungwon.

the boy who taught you different languages and fulfilled your life even for a small period of time.

you never spoke to him again.

you never saw him again.

and nobody mentioned him again either, the Yang's now continuing their lives like jungwon never existed.

it was like he had disappeared completely.

Busan Train Station, 2025

the long trip was finally over, and even if the gaze of that stranger seemed comfortable enough for you to want to live in it, you forced your feet to stand up, the heavy luggage swinging in your hand.

you gave him a last good look, remarking his dimples, his soft skin and how he stared at you.

you didn't remember about being stared at like that before.

or maybe you did? the feelings were weird, conflicting.

you loud steps echoed through the wagon, and when you were about to leave it, a warm hand found your wrist, touching right above your silver bracelet. the one you remembered having since forever.

his touch sent shivers down your spine, the contact so different but familiar, like you'd done this previously.

but you were sure you never saw him before.

“hey, um, i think you dropped these”

© luvchaew on tumblr, all rights reserved | do not repost, copy or translate

💭 ik this took me years to be ready but i have my excuses, college has been eating me up (sacrifice reference) & finals are just around the corner. truly not the best time to be a student at an england uni 😭

taglist: @nuggets4lifers @won1yoiz @meowwwon @lavendersloane

[muwapsturniolo]

Third time's the charm 🐰ྀི C. Sturniolo

"let me make it up to you bun."

⟢ nsfw content ahead, smut, overstimulation, fingering, mentions of sex toys, begging,

@bernardsbendystraws FOR DIVIDER

Self-care was something Bunny loved to participate in. Face masks galore, facial steaming, skincare products, as well as body care too. It was the perfect way to relax, especially with her having two days off from ballet.

It was the perfect weekend for it as well. Doll was out of town on a business trip, leaving the girl alone to do whatever she pleased, including self-pleasure.

She had her whole night planned, half of the activities being done. She had washed her hair and diffused it, she had done all her body care after an everything shower, and she put on the new pajamas she had gotten last week.

She felt good.

She was currently in the kitchen looking for a small snack to eat before she went to her room and started to have fun by herself. Just as she had popped a grape into her mouth, the doorbell had rung. With furrowed brows, she makes her way over, the pink bunny slippers shuffling across the hardwood flooring.

The door opens just a tiny bit, enough for her to see Chris on the other side.

"Chris? What are you doing here?"

He licks his lips as she opens the door wider, her pink lacey pajamas that weren't supposed to be sexual in any way, coming into view. The flowy top hugged her chest perfectly, pressing her boobs together and showing just enough skin. The pajama shorts, if you could call them that, were super short and tight, the material hugging her plump thighs just right. He could only imagine how the cusps of her ass looked.

"You said Doll was out of town, figured I'd keep you company for the night. You gonna let me in?" She smiles softly and does as asked, letting him into the warm home and closing the door. He follows her back into the kitchen, watching as she stands at the counter and continues munching on her grapes.

"Did you bring clothes?" She asks him softly, covering her mouth like she always does when eating. "Nah, figured since you like to steal my clothes, I have something here." He walks up behind her and grabs her waist, kissing her shoulder softly. She turns around and holds up a grape, offering it to him. She pops it in his mouth before pulling away from him.

"You can go change in my room. I have some of your hoodies and a pair of your sweats in my closet." Chris hums and pecks her lips before walking out of the kitchen and making his way to her room. He sighs as he enters the comfortable space, the smell of sugar cookies and vanilla infiltrating his senses. He walks past her bed and towards her closet, catching something in the corner of his eye.

He turns his head, his eyes widening when he sees the objects on the bed.

A baby pink rose toy, as well as lube and a dildo.

He approaches the bed, grabbing the pink phallus and examining it. It was pretty big, similar to his dick size that stands at 7 inches. It looked like it was made of jelly, a few veins running up along the side.

He smirks as he grabs the lube and throws it into her nightstand along with the dildo, hiding the rose toy under one of her many pillows.

The night continues, the couple ending up in her bedroom, lying down and watching a movie. He was shocked she didn't react to her toys being gone from her bed, but he figured she was distracted. It was no secret that Bunny was completely infatuated with Chris. When he was around, it seemed as if the girl's brain shut off and only focused on him.

Chris was currently sitting with his back against the headboard, Bunny lying between his legs with her eyes trained on the TV. He begins to kiss her shoulder, trailing soft kisses up to her neck before nipping softly. She tries to turn around, but Chris keeps her in place, one of his hands settling on her thigh.

"Did you have any other plans for tonight?" He murmurs in her ear, his breath hot and causing goosebumps to rise along her arms.

"Mmm, no." Chris smirks at her answer, his hands starting to rub at her thighs.

"I think you're lying Bun."

"No I'm no- Really? Because the dildo and vibrator that were on your bed said otherwise." He chuckles feeling her whole body tense, the embarrassment settling in. She tries to turn her body once more, Chris still holding her in place.

"I-I didn't know you were com- Shhhh it's ok Bun. I should be the one apologizing for ruining your night." He begins to snake his right hand into her shorts.

"Let me make it up to you Bun."

She gasps softly as a singular finger swipes through her folds, gathering her juices before circlining her clit. Her whole body relaxes into Chris's touch, his fingers drawing lazy figure eights on her sensitive bundle of nerves. He continues to plant open-mouth kisses along her neck, whispering sweet and dirty words into her ear.

As she opens her legs wider, giving him more room, he trails his left hand up from her thigh to her chest, groping her breast softly. He tweaks at her nipple through the lacey material of her pajama top, enjoying the way she mewls out and arches her back.

He speeds up his ministrations, the lewd and crude sloshing sound of her juices getting louder as well as her moans.

"Come on baby, know you're close."

He focuses on the way her toes curl, her breath hitching and her back arching as she comes closer and closer to her high. She was teetering on the edge of release, but she needed more.

"M-more, please!" She breathes out, her needy pleas making Chris hum.

"You can do it, be a good girl for me Bun."

She begins to grind against his hand, each movement of her hips matching up with his quick swipes over her clit. It seems like that was just enough for her to reach euphoria, her eyes rolling back as she crumbles into his touch.

But Chris wasn't done.

He grabs her jaw and angles her head back, his lips finding hers in a greedy and sloppy kiss. The two of them work together through the kiss to get her shorts off, throwing the pink material somewhere in the room.

As she remains distracted, Chris reaches underneath the pillow to the side of him and grabs the rose toy. The girl yanks away from the kiss just as the device makes contact with her clit, her hips jerking at the overstimulation.

"F-fuck - Language Bunny." Chris presses the toy harder against her clit, enjoying the way she clenches her eyes shut and her thighs quiver. She was still sensitive from her previous orgasm, her juices leaking onto the white sheets - It was too much.

"Chris, pl-please!" She grabs at his wrist, her nails digging into his skin as she tries to breath. He turns the vibrator up one setting, smiling sadistically as she throws her head back and lets out a mix of a moan and a sob. Chris wraps his left hand around her throat, squeezing gently.

"You can handle it," she breathes heavily, sniffling as she tries to stop her body from seizing up. Despite the overstimulation, her hole was aching, clenching as it begged to be filled and stretched out.

"P-please I- nghh- need you!"

"Aww, my little Bunny needs me? I thought this was too much?" He chuckles as her eyes roll back once more, her moans getting louder and louder every second.

"Give me one more and I'll give you what you want. Be a good girl."

It doesn't take that much time for her to reach that peak, her juices splashing all over Chris's hand and her bed. She heaves and pants harshly as Chris pulls the vibrator away, throwing it somewhere along the bed as he moves from behind her.

He settles between her legs, looking down at her dripping cunt. His eyes drift back up to her face, her dazed eyes meeting his. He pulls his sweats down along with his boxers, his aching cock slapping is abdomen. She whimpers seeing his large member, eager to be filled, yet scared about how sensitive she is.

He lines himself up, swiping his tip through her folds and watching the way she flitches as he nudges her clit. In one swift movement, he slips inside of her, the air being knocked out of her lungs. He pushes her legs to her chest, setting a brutal and fast pace.

Tears were rushing down her face, her breathing erratic as she tried to slow him down, but he wasn't letting up.

Her body was on fire, she could feel everything yet nothing all at once. Incoherent babbles were tumbling from her mouth, and all Chris could do was coo at her.

He eventually does slow down, opting for long and harsh thrusts. She could feel every single ridge of his dick, his mushroom tip dragging along her aching and abused walls.

"C-can't ta - Yes you can." Chris urges, now using his thumb to swipe at her clit.

"Come on Bun, can feel you clamping down on me. Make a mess."

At his firm and encouraging words, her back arches as her legs spasm, her juices seeping out in large amounts.

Chris's own high follows soon after, the milky white liquid coating her walls and her puffy lips. She lies upon the bed looking like a full-on mess. Her thighs were completely soaked, a thin layer of sweat covering her body. Her hair was frizzy, the tight curls looking as if they were brushed out.

He attempts to clean up their mess, going to wipe between her legs, only to stop when she snaps them shut and whines. Thinking quickly, he goes to her bathroom and runs them a bath.

Soon enough, the two are in the tub, Chris holding her as she lies half asleep in the hot water.

"You relaxed now Bun?"

She hums sleepily, still completly spent and fucked out from Chris's so called apology. He chuckles softly and begins to lather her body in soap, mumbling sweet and soft words as she falls into a deeper sleep.

[limethefirst]

When You're Gone

pairings: Thunderbolts* x teen!reader

warnings: major spoilers, reader has powers, reader has a form of ptsd from the events of endgame, slighttt survivors guilt, mentions of suicide/committing (in the void), angst but it turns into found family, honestly pretty long fic (3k+ words)

summary: being the youngest ex-avenger was weird, it's even weirder being grouped up with a bunch of misfits to save new york and take down the director of the cia

a/n: just watched thunderbolts and gawdddd, because the timeline in the mcu no longer matches our timeline, i imagine reader is in their late teens, early 20's, but no age is mentioned, so go wild. this is a very heavy topic to write and i'm not taking it lightly, the only mention of any type of self harm is when reader is in the void so please take that into account, love you all (this is cross posted on my ao3, Maaaak95, my only acc ty)

New York was never peaceful, maybe that's why it was called the city that never sleeps.

Leaving New York was something you'd considered for a while, it was crime ridden, constantly under attack by aliens, in need of every hero it could get. That's actually why you chose to stay.

Somewhere in that brain of yours, it was engraved, by Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, everyone you'd once fought with to save the world. It was engraved in you, that if you had the means, you had to fight, because who will protect the little guy?

So, there you stayed, but moments like this made you, slightly, regret your choice.

"How did you even get this number?!" Your expression was exasperated, to say the least. Bucky Barnes- pardon, Congressman, Bucky Barnes, was on the other end of the line.

Somehow he'd gotten your number, most likely from Sam at some point, and was telling you to suit up.

As if you haven't already been suited up daily, protecting New York from minor threats. Which was strange, considering only four years ago, you'd gone against Thanos.

It was weird, going from fighting against a God-like being, to stopping a petty thief from holding a gun against your favorite corner store clerk.

A grumble came from the other end of the phone, Bucky sounded tired, then again he always sounded tired, at least you assumed so from the brief meetings the two of you have had.

"Doesn't matter, listen," He paused, you swore you could hear some weird chattering in the back, "I'm going to be in New York in a few hours, be ready to fight."

"You?"

"No," That was disappointing, it would've been fun to fight him.

"Aw."

"Don't 'aw' me, this is serious, I know you patrol the area. I need, help, with a problem." He slightly hesitated when he asked for help. Bucky was a capable man, that much you knew, if he needed help then this must've been important.

You let out a small sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, "Okay.. just text me when you arrive, I'll be ready."

With that you hung up, quickly changing the new number that was in your phone to 'Bucky Barnes'. Welp, now you had the number of another person from your unpleasant past.

It wasn't that you hated being an Avenger, hell, you technically never became one. You were just destined to become one. But that day never came.

Gifted, blessed, abnormal, savior. Words needlessly passed around during your childhood, all because of the strange power you possessed. A form of light manipulation. It wasn't overpowered, it was cool though.

Being able to create forms of light, alter it, change the trajectory, even make beams that harnessed the heat of the light. Something better than nothing, something that caught the eye of the infamous Tony Stark.

You never exactly got time to bond with them all, well, you were a kid when you accidentally demonstrated your powers in a public setting. The ol' parents weren't fond of that, so when Tony decided to help, seeing you as a future Avenger, they didn't pass up the opportunity to essentially hand you off.

You trained a bit, met some cool people, had a family for a short while, then they split, then they lost half the population, brought it back, half died, half survived. And for a while, you were alone again.

Some of the remaining Avengers checked in, hardly, but maybe it was the effort that counted?

An hour or so had passed before you got your next text, Bucky was finally in the city. He asked you to meet him by.. the old Avengers tower? You lived there only for a brief time. Hardly a few months, because after what happened between Stark and Rogers, Tony couldn't bear to continue to keep the tower.

You don't remember it very well, you were young and still getting used to being trained by hero's.

Shaking your head, you left, making the quick trip to the old tower.

There seemed to be soldiers inside, so you waited. Not for long of course, when suddenly a truck crashed right through the doors of the building.

Pushing yourself off the wall you quickly entered, seeing the man of the hour himself.

"Bucky?" Your voice cut through the commotion, the older man turned. His body now facing you.

He gave a curt nod, "Hey there, kid, no time no see."

You couldn't help but let out a snort at his words, even if you were never close to him, God it felt good to talk to someone with some kind of connection to who you used to be.

"Time hasn't been kind to you, Barnes, you look tired,"

He smirked, through all the stress it was nice to see the kid he once fought next to, grown, still seemingly protecting the people. Before he could respond a voice cut through the speaker of the lobby, a woman who you didn't know spoke.

Something about her having left the door unlocked for them. Whatever, the doors were broken now anyway.

With that, the group headed to the elevator, Bucky ushered everyone in.

You stepped in, looking at the group.

The elevator started its awkward ascent, "Hello there," A woman with a Russian accent spoke, "You must be the person Barnes was calling earlier." She stated, looking you up and down.

"Oh yea, that was me." You gave a small nod, leaning against the railing, offering your name.

"Ahh," The Russian woman said with a nod, "Yelena," She pointed to herself, then the man next to Bucky, "John Walker, Ava Starr, Alexei."

Just as she finished, Alexei interrupted, "You are quite young!" It sounded more like a statement than a question, "Why does the Soldier bring you along, little one?"

"He's not wrong, you look pretty young." Ava chimes before you can answer.

You sigh, not really wanting to divulge into the details, "I'm someone from his past,"

"That's not vague at all," John rolls his eyes, gripping his shield tightly.

Bucky gives him a small glare, you're unsure if it's on your behalf or there is some unsolved beef between the two, "It's almost like that was the idea!" You said with a sarcastic tone, "I'm just someone with certain capabilities, let's leave it there."

"Ah ah! Now I remember where I've heard of you!" Yelena smiles, not a real smile, more of a know it all grin, "You were one of those heroes who fought against Thanos, no?" She asks, causing everyone else to look either at Bucky or you.

You internally groaned at that, "Yea.. yea I fought against Thanos." Geez, was it just you or was this the longest elevator ride you've ever been on. Curse Tony for making his old building so tall.

"We both did, she's an old friend, and she's here to help, so don't antagonize her." Bucky told everyone, but it looked like he was looking mostly at Alexei and John.

Of course, Alexei didn't pay attention to Bucky, instead he put a hand on his belly while he laughed. He kinda looked like Santa, in a weird Russian way.

"Yes!" He pumped his fist into the air, "Now, we are a real team! The Thunderbolts will be unstoppable!" He exclaimed proudly, Yelena lowered her face into her hands in slight embarrassment.

"Oh my god, do not get started on this again."

You raised a confused brow, "What's the Thunderbolts?" You asked.

"Yelena's old soccer team! The West Chesapeake Bay Thunderbolts!"

Yelena just groaned loudly, "Okay, dad, we get it."

A small chuckle escaped your lips, it was nice, the dynamic at least. You'd been alone ever since the events with Thanos ended, so being able to be part of a team, even if for a fleeting moment was, homey.

All moments end though, and this one would end sooner than later, because once those elevator doors opened, everything became a quick blur.

It all went wrong pretty quick.

There was a moment that Yelena paused, as a man named Bob, -well apparently Sentry- descended the staircase. He had blonde hair and a strange yellow suit.

Ava commented on his hair, and he seemed more self aware after that. In the blink of an eye, everyone attacked. Or, at least tried.

He was so strong, for a moment you felt scared. Not because of the fact this guy could probably kill you with a flick of the wrist, but because he reminded you of that damn purple giant, the one who took away the future you could've had.

It felt like Thanos all over again, as dumb as it sounded. You saw Tony's body, you remember hearing what happened to Nat, remember the feeling of standing there as Steve explained on that bench that he lived a full life in the past.

You couldn't hesitate though, quickly using your powers to try and blind Sentry giving Bucky an opening to attack.

It was pointless.

He made quick work of you six, tossing you aside like a rag doll. Not even your powers, which were the only thing you had left worked. No matter how many beams you used, the deflected, in fact, they hit you. Pushing you back against the wall.

You spit out some blood, trying to get up, but Ava put her hand on your shoulder, shaking her head.

Both of you looked at the rest of the group, each one beaten and bruised. John's shield was bent in half, this guy means business.

Bucky was the last one standing, he tried to land a punch but Sentry discarded him with ease. He ripped off his arm, knocking him out with it and tossing, along with Bucky next to you.

Your eyes widened as Ava grabbed your shoulder, along with Bucky's arm, pulling you with her towards the elevator.

Alexei and John quickly grabbed Bucky, Yelena scurried up as well, joining you and everyone else.

The ride down was tense, your breathing felt heavy, your hands clutched to your chest. You've dealt with terrible things, maybe worse? You couldn't tell at the moment, it all felt like it was crashing down on you.

Turning to the side, you saw everyone else. Everyone was utterly defeated, John was trying to fix his shield. Alexei was quiet, for once. Ava still had a small reassuring hand on your shoulder. Yelena stared at the elevator door and Bucky was leaning against the wall with the assistance of Yelena.

There was a clear contrast from how you entered to how you left.

The elevator, that was filled with noise no longer than ten minutes ago, was now eerily still.

The ding let everyone know they'd reached the bottom, slowly making their way to the front of the building.

Ava finally let go of your shoulder, handing Bucky his arm.

There was talking but you weren't listening, the last time you felt defeated, a stupid purple man with a gauntlet had blipped half the universe away.

This wasn't the same, that was something you had to remind yourself of. You were not going to lose anyone else anymore. No, no, this was a corrupt CIA director using a man as a human experiment. Not the end of the world.

The feeling of someone's hand tapping your arm snapped you out of your daze.

Glancing towards the person, you saw Bucky, his arms crossed over his chest, a brow raised, "Kid, you okay?" Bucky was no idiot, he knew the signs of PTSD, the fear, anxiety. It was so plainly rolling off of you in waves.

You wanted to run away, scream, go back to that warm place you called home. But home wasn't a place, it was a fleeting memory. One that grew more blurred as the days passed by.

When you first met the Avengers, Tony brought you in, showed you around, then you met them all. Tony told you to 'put on a lightshow', honestly, it was stupid. A lightshow? Really? But you listened, because you were a kid who didn't know better.

It was a fun first day, you felt like you belonged somewhere.

"No," You shook your head as you responded to Bucky. He didn't push though, he could see in your eyes.

Instead he offered you a nod, patting your shoulder, "Okay." Bucky didn't know how to comfort people, at least not anymore. Maybe before the war, before his Winter Soldier days.

It was enough though, even if for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, when suddenly you both noticed the way everyone had paused, looking up at the sky.

A shadowy figure floated above New York, you saw the helicopters closing in on it. But they began to spiral out of control, crashing into nearby buildings, causing debris to fall.

Neither Bucky, nor you wasted time, jumping into action. And it seemed you two weren't the only ones thinking that you saw them. The rest of the Thunderbolts jumped into action, helping protect people.

You saw a father running with his son in his arms, when a piece of cement made its way down, it was going to kill them.

Quickly you ran, raising your arms. Hands trained on the failing debris, a faint glow emitted, when suddenly it blasted, hitting the cemented building. It shattered, only smaller rubble fell, the bigger chunks luckily pushed to the side.

The man didn't stop running, but you could hear his grateful sobs as he held his son tightly against his chest.

You returned to the group, making sure everything was okay, when suddenly everyone clapped. Alexei looked ecstatic at that, his grin was proud.

It fell pretty quickly, as he saw a little girl standing right below another piece of the falling building, he rushed over to her. Using his body as a shield he saved the girls life.

At least he thought he did.

The girl became a shadow before your eyes. New York wasn't saved yet, as quickly as it became a rescue mission, it turned into an evacuation order.

You all ushered everyone inside nearby buildings, everyone but Yelena. Who stood before the void.

No one noticed before it was too late. Alexei yelled, both Bucky and John held him back. It wasn't two men holding back a Russian super soldier, no, it was two super soldiers holding back a father.

God, it was hard to watch, the remaining group rushed into an alleyway.

Ava proposed the idea of entering the void, to you, it sounded like a death wish. No one knew what was on the other side.

Actually, that was a lie.

Apparently John Walker knew. Of course he knew, he mentioned what happened when he first met Bob, the interaction that happened when he grabbed his hand.

It gave a vague idea that the void was a place where you relived your worst memories.

And if you wanted to save Yelena, and Bob. Then, dammit, you'd have to.

You all looked at each other, nodding, ready to let the void take you all.

Bucky gave you a quick glance, his expression held guilt, in the midst of trying to take down Valentina, he'd forgotten that he'd dragged you into this mess. To him, you were just a kid, no matter how old you were.

A kid who was raised with the idea that they had to be a hero, it was noble. Stupid, that's also what he thought it was.

He couldn't think about it for long though, because within a matter of seconds, the void had swallowed you all whole.

The Void either wanted to start off strong or you had a pristine line up of terrible memories to choose from.

The first thing you saw was you, standing next to an overflowing bathtub.

You could feel the wince you let out at the sight. This wasn't long after the battle with Thanos, when things were getting harder to deal with.

When the thoughts of how Tony should still be alive with his family, how Nat should've been at the Barton's annual Christmas party.

You tried to grab onto the past version that stood in front of the tub, but you couldn’t.

That person turned around, grabbing at your wrists and threw you against the wall with a hard crack.

Looking up you saw the same image again, it was repeating. This time you didn’t intervene. Instead you watched.

You knew you wouldn’t do anything, you were still here.

This past version of you fell to their knees. The tile floor was cold, and wet.

Instead of getting in, you only dunked in your head, screaming into the water.

A glimpse in the mirror caught your attention, it looked like, Yelena?

You quickly punched the bathroom mirror, shattering it and feeling how it sucked you into another memory.

One where you couldn’t save everyone.

This was a fairly recent memory, that’s why it felt more vivid, at least in your opinion.

New York was a big place, and even if you knew there were other heroes who could help, they also couldn’t be everywhere.

You had stopped a mugging, but not fast enough, not carefully enough. Someone had been shot.

You were careless and stupid and slow. Everything you thought you were taught not to be.

The paramedics were on the scene, your arms had blood, the woman’s blood.

She looked old enough to possible be a mother, maybe she had a partner at home, she was someone’s daughter, aunt, neighbor. And you let her die.

Maybe it would’ve been better if you took the bullet, because at least you wouldn’t have anyone truly worried about you.

The memory replayed, this time, you stepped in front of the gun, trying to save her.

But the trigger never went off, instead, she pushed you away, her face was sad, her frown killed you. Then she was killed.

The memory kept going on over and over, and for a moment, you were somewhere terrible.

You were in front of Tony Starks body, his side was burnt and he looked weak. There was a body in front of him.

You didn’t recognize him though, his face was almost blurred. He spoke the words over and over again , ‘Mr Stark, we did it,’ it was painful to hear.

Then, there she was again, Yelena, being strangled with Bob beside her.

You gritted your teeth. Forget these memories. They hurt like hell, but you had somehow prevailed, each time growing stronger because for some reason, you felt that this was your purpose.

You were still alive because you needed to help people, help them, help Yelena.

Within the blink of an eye you were in the same room as her, along with the rest of the Thunderbolts.

Each one looked confused, and slightly worried for the entire group.

You saw Bucky again, “You look like shit, Barnes,” You let out a shaky, relieved exhale.

“Well, you know my life was pretty good so no bad memories.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. It wasn’t the best joke to make, but you smiled at the effort.

Ava also seemed to notice you, she had seemingly taken a liking to the youngest ex-Avenger, maybe because she knew the burdens of having powers growing up. Even if her experience was different.

With everyone back together, you all needed a plan of escape. Thankfully, Bob seemed more than ready to try and fight back against The Void.

Everyone began to rush through Bob’s memories, most were sad to see. Just from the small snippets, you could gather that his father was abusive, he was an addict, and he had some mental health issues.

Although it was funny to see Bucky punch a giant chicken.

Finally you all arrived at the last room, “I’ve been here before,” Yelena spoke, her eyes darting around.

In the middle of the room stood Void. His eyes held a faint glow and it was making you more nervous by the second.

Just as everyone got ready to charge, he lifted his hand, and pieces of metal had bound everyone against the walls.

John got it worst of all, his shoulder was impaled, he was stuck against the wall like that.

You tried to kick, get out of the metal bounds, but if three super soldiers couldn’t get out, you doubted you’d be able to.

Then they fought, Bob and his darker half.

The Void was taunting him,

“You thought you were gonna be some great man?” Void had kicked Bob to the ground, he stood tall. He paused before he continued again, “Some savior? You can’t even save yourself,”

Bob got up this time, but Void quickly put him down again, “We will always be alone.”

His words were painful, but Bob stood, and charged at him. Tackling him to the ground.

Yelena was struggling to breath a bit, Void had tied something around her neck, trying to egg Bob on, make him angry, accept the dark part of him.

He kept punching, over, and over.

Beating Void, but that was what he wanted. The shadows began to consume Bob, “Stop, Bob, stop it!” Yelena yelled, trying to get free.

Alexei used all his strength, lifting the metal off them enough to get Yelena out of the binds.

She ran as fast as she could to Bob, hugging him, “You’re not alone” she whispered.

And his punches slowed, but not enough, not yet.

Quickly the rest of you were able to get free, running over as well, all of you wrapped around Bob. As the Void lost.

You returned, all of you.

The shadow that engulfed New York began to retract itself.

Unfortunately Valentina was able to use this to her advantage. Debuting you six as the New Avengers.

Alexei actually thought AvengerZ was better.

It didn’t matter though, because at least this way you could keep that evil woman in check, and you kinda got a new family out of it.

For once in a long time, everything felt okay, you were going to be okay.

14 months had passed since then, you all lived in a new Compound together as a family. You still wonder what the old Avengers would’ve thought of you now.

Maybe they’d be proud, that you continued on, despite the pain. Or would’ve hated the idea of a new team of Avengers.

“Sam’s suing us for use of the Avengers name,” Bucky let out a low sigh, sitting down on the couch beside you.

A small laugh left you, before you stopped and realized his serious expression, “Wait, he can do that?”

Alexei laughed, as he still tried to sell Yelena and John on his new, ‘AvengerZ’ team sweaters.

Bucky walked over to Yelena, getting more info on the supposed unidentified ship nearing Earth.

Alexei gave you one of the sweaters as he argued with John about supposedly using Bob as some kind of rocket to launch them all into space. Safe to say Bob wasn’t amused.

“That sweater looks dumbs,” Ava smiles at you, taking Bucky’s empty seat beside you.

“Really? I think it’s growing on me.”

She just rolled her eyes at your words, “Don’t let Alexei hear, it’ll get to his head.”

With that, Ava gave you a light pat on the head.

This was nice, you were happy, even if your team was going through legal issues and was a weird set of characters. You wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Life with the New Avengers(Z) wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[81pastrys]

Princess to All

Summary— Baby Lana steals the show from Lando’s twin boys

Warnings— cuteness overload

A/N— daddy landoooo

Dad Lando List

Dividers @bernardsbendystraws @dollywons

Request— I found this pic on Pinterest and all I could think of was Lando bringing home his daughter to he twins and they are automatically obsessed like they just fawn over her, getting jealous when Lando hold her etc - @azeal-peal

Leyton and Louis were bouncing off the walls with energy all day and Cisca could barely contain them. The 3-year-olds just too excited for their baby sister to come home any minute.

Lando did have a talk with his boys about ‘gentle hands’ and ‘no kisses’ for the safety of the newborn. Cisca decided they needed a reminder though since they’re energetic like this. “We can watch a show, but we need to have a refresher for when baby Lana comes home okay?” She asked the boys.

They both calmed themselves as much as they could and sat on the couch, wriggling and squirming from the pent up energy. She kneeled to their level and reminded them gently how Lando did.

“Okay Mimi.” They said. Leyton was more of a goodie two shoes while Louis would wreak havoc wherever he went. She turned the show on and near the end the front door opened. Lando, his wife, and the newborn entered the house quietly.

The boys ran up to Lando holding the infant seat and gawked at her. “She so little daddy.” Leyton observed. Lana startled at the voice, a familiar one from in the womb.

“Daddy, daddy, can you play with us?” Louis asked, seemingly uninterested at the moment. Lando chuckled at the boys and crouched to their level, setting the carrier down next to him.

“Daddy is really tired boys, no play time tonight. Tomorrow we can, okay?” He explained softly. Louis crossed his arms in protest and Leyton nodded his head obediently. “Louis, daddy has been taking care of mama and baby Lana. I’m sure Mimi played with you today.”

“But I want to play with you.” The boy whined. Leyton looked at his brother innocently and up to their mama.

“Daddy said we can play tomorrow Lou, and mama looks tired.” Leyton tried to console his brother. “Let’s finish watching the movie, then mama and daddy can tuck us in!”

“That’s a good idea boys!” Their mum encouraged. They pattered back to the couch and snuggling Cisca as the movie continued.

Lando helped his wife settle down with Lana and got the newborn in her crib for the night, well 2-3 hours until she needed to be fed again. She ordered pizza for an easier dinner and set the table.

After dinner the boys insisted on Lando to give them a bath. He always did fun baths, bubbles, games, and all the toys imaginable came out.

After nearly an hour messing around in the bubbles and duckie missions, the boys were worn out and ready for bed.

“Alright boys take your pick.” Lando said. Every night the boys would pick their parent of choice for a bedtime story and to get tucked in by. Leyton was a massive mama boy and Louis was a daddy’s boy.

Tonight they chose the opposite and Lando was surprised, but nonetheless tucked his little Leyton in bed after a Dino story. He kissed the boys head with a quick ‘goodnight’ and his wife did the same for Louis. They swapped boys to offer more kisses and good nights before returning to Cisca.

“How was everything?” Cisca asked. She was kept updated by text and FaceTime once Lana was born, but knew birth was a harder task than most.

“Well it’s much easier when there’s only one.” She laughed. “Everything was perfect, she was much smaller than the boys and the medicine definitely worked.”

“The nurses and doctors were super nice as well.” Lando added, eating a cold piece of pizza. “How were the boys?” He knew his twins were a fucking handful.

“Energetic, rambunctious, and just how you were at that age.” His mum joked. Lando smiled at her hard.

The next morning was filled with giggles and laughter. The boys ate their breakfast while Lana was breast fed. Lando told his mum she could leave after she had gotten proper rest after caring for the boys. Lando made them a nice breakfast and waited for Lana to finish eating as well so his wife could get some well needed rest as well.

“Daddy why is mama so sleepy?” Louis asked, he was sweet and kind hearted like Lando. However once he got going there was no stopping him on being the trouble maker.

“Well mama just gave birth to your sister little man.” Lando explained, before realizing they don’t know that even means. “Baby Lana needs to eat every few hours and so that means at night she wakes up and mama has to feed her.”

“Why can’t mama just feed her dinner like us?” Leyton asked, curious minded like his mum. “We eat a big dinner and then sleep all night before breakfast.”

“That’s right, but since Lana is so small and tiny, she gets hungry quicker.” Lando said. “So mama is a little sleepy from waking up with her.”

The boys shrugged it off and begged Lando to play instead. He agreed, joining them in their playroom to play with hot wheels and other toys.

Lana was given over to Lando in the midst of this and he accepted her with open arms. She was screaming their ears off. “I fed and changed her but she won’t calm down.” His wife said, she looked tired and exhausted.

Lando listened to her. “Go get some rest my love, I’ve got her now.” He said with a small smile. He moved little Lana to her favorite position, on his chest with his hand holding her snug from her bottom. He rubbed her back and soothed her with his words.

“Daddy she’s loud!” Louis yelled over the little girl. Leyton nodded his head, both boys covering their ears.

“She’s just a bit fussy, what’s the matter baby?” He asked, swaying and rocking her while she continued to scream. “Okay, okay.” He said. He moved her in his arms so he could unbutton his shirt and lay her on his bare chest, the nurse mentioning it calms babies down.

“Daddy’s magic!” Leyton said in awe at Lando calming the screams to light coos. Lando chuckled at his son and made his way to the main area. He lounged on the couch while Lana fell into Lando’s sleep trap.

He moved her to a bassinet in the playroom and continued his game with the boys. Somehow the boys got hold of some of his older F1 hats and wore them with pride. When Lando set his babygirl down they both leaned over the bassinet admiring the sleeping baby.

“Gentle hands, and no kisses just yet.” Lando reminded softly. Louis moved his hand first, lightly brushing her head with his hand. “Good job buddy!” Lando praised the gentle touch.

Leyton followed, his small hand cupping her head softly. “She so cute daddy!” He whispered before giggling.

“She’s is huh?” Lando smiled. The boys kept ‘petting’ her head gently before they got bored and continued playing with their cars. Urging Lando to join. He did, the bassinet close by in case Lana stirs.

New names, new kids, Lando’s got a big family.

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @itznotsophia @kallanfiona @chertik-007vvv

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Now and forever." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

Summary: Your life together is paused with a fight a few hours before the dead start walking, and it forces you two to embark on a journey through that new world apart until Daryl and you reunite with the fall of Woodbury.

A/N: Hi. Obviously this story is way different from the storyline with the Governor, and I wanna clarify that nothing happens to Maggie here :( I had to include Merle. I want to believe that he could be good, although I think I'll do a second part 'cause the interaction between Daryl and you is really little, just because I wanted to write something. It's 6 in the morning and I have to get up at 8 so second part soon! I hope you like it. And we're launching a new nickname from Daryl!♥

“At some point a sorry ain’t gonna be enough.”

You always hated the comparison, but in your mind, you knew Daryl Dixon was fire behind his cold apathy—warm, passionate when he wanted, protective, yet dangerous, with the ability to burn down everything in his path—that's why, aware of his own power, Daryl always lived without emotions, without freedom, flying solo so as not to unleash his true nature and turn everything to ashes. You were always a flight risk, you felt everything too much, but you were always the light—never the shadow—of a loving military father who died fighting before the end of the world. And alone, you left home, taking his memory and his gun hidden in your waistband with you, landing in that seedy bar forgotten by God himself, where the ex–military man and owner—the person who sacrificed himself for you that night—took you in like a daughter, offering you a job that helped keep you on your feet, right in the place where you met the charming Merle, and his baby brother, the young Daryl Dixon.

Dirty, his sleeveless shirt always bearing a grease stain from the repair shop where he worked, intimidating even without saying a word, but his motorcycle was the perfect, perpetual example of the bad boy, the one who made bad decisions, with a tragic past and the physical and emotional wounds to prove it.

However, without any attempt at seduction, with that spark of fire in his serious gaze and a ray of light in yours, it became common between you two to spend the night together where everything was intense, somewhat sweaty, but less heavy, less lonely, less sad when you started talking and laughing and Daryl began to open up. And from never having anything, Daryl went to feeling full, complete, to feeling like he had everything—although always harboring that thought in the back of his head that at some point he would ruin it all—and boy, he did. Feeling that ridiculous sensation of falling deeply in love was overwhelming at first, difficult to digest and accept, until Daryl Dixon knew in his rusty heart that you would always be the only one, that there would be no one after you, ever. Now, and forever.

The idea of ​​marriage was always something distant and foreign to you, until you felt the ring on your finger and someone in your circle mentioned your new last name. Everything stayed the same for a long, long time, but it was also like living in an eternal honeymoon, without overwhelming emotions, only peace in your worlds that had once been fractured by the pain of the past.

Life was good, never ordinary and even fun.

“Hey, asshole! Dinner is ready!”

“Fuck ya!” Merle's voice echoes through the place, and you laugh quietly as you wait at the beginning of the hallway that connects to the kitchen, looking down the hall toward the place where Merle lived, his own kingdom, as he called it, the only place you hadn't managed to invade, as he used to say with a snort. “I’ll be there!”

You let out a chuckle as you turn around to go back to the small kitchen, where Daryl, standing at the counter next to the sink, looks at you with his usual serious disapproval.

“How long will ya do that?”

“Oh, come on. Please don’t take away the only fun I get from living with your precious brother.”

You return your attention to the vegetables on the cutting board as Daryl hums a response, not entirely in agreement with the twisted and strange relationship you'd formed with his brother. But as his body presses against yours from behind, with playful hands around your waist and his forehead on your exposed neck, you know that those displays of affection always came laced with love, replacing the words Daryl was still clumsy with.

"Ya two disgust me." Merle makes a monumental effort not to spit on the floor when he appears to sit in one of the dining room chairs, making you roll your eyes as Daryl pulls away from you. "At least got the decency to lemme know if yer gonna make porn in the kitchen."

Daryl lets out a low grunt without saying anything, having learned to ignore him, the only way to stop the fire before it spread.

"Make porn?" You wrinkle your nose. “The only porn in this house is the one you watch every day: one day your hand will fall off.”

Both of you knew the path opened up for the endless sexually charged jokes he could make, but Merle chuckles, letting the opportunity pass. As the midnight winds down, Daryl’s hand rests almost lazily on one of your legs on the couch, gazes focused on the TV as his brother strolls through the house on his way to a day that’s just beginning for him.

“M' leavin'. Don’ wait up for me.”

Daryl doesn’t even bother to look at him, his voice flat.

“No one does.”

You chuckle as a blank expression spreads across the elder Dixon’s face, but Merle still hadn’t learned to let things go.

“Yer so sweet ya make me wanna throw up.” Part of him meant it, though in his tin–hearted heart as you used to call it, he cared enough for his brother, and you. “But when ya got yer first kid, do sum right for once and name it after me.”

“I’d kill myself first.”

Merle’s laughter echoes in the room until he leaves. But there, that thought was settled, like a cloud heavy with rain, wondering if there would ever be kids, but it was all a matter of perspective; you either loved the rain or hated it.

“Do you want to make porn in the kitchen?”

Daryl chuckles, and happiness fills his blue eyes in a second. He was happy, completely, like he'd never been in his life. But it was the little unresolved issues that piled up, his inability to speak properly when friction arose between you two, his destructive fears, the enemy that lurked in his thoughts, your own insecurities: all of them brought fire and brimstone to a home that seemed indestructible.

"So what the fuck keeps ya here then? The fuckin’ door's right there if ya wanna leave so badly!"

You didn't even remember why you two started fighting in the first place. Maybe it was the unspoken things, the misunderstandings, the challenge in his voice for you to be the one to end it all because Daryl knew he wouldn't be able to, the intensity of his emotions, or how quickly you could walk away with a cold stare and empty, tearless eyes. The silence is deafening until your sigh fills the room, nodding before heading for the door.

"Someday, a sorry ain't gonna be enough, Daryl, if you're even capable of saying it for the first time in your life."

You leave, and he doesn't try to follow, too proud to trample his manhood with a plea, a pride that was built in him with merciless fists that collided with his body until it forged a single thought in his mind, a cursed memory of his parents burned into his head, an unbreakable rule: men don't say sorry, they don't say please, men don't cry or beg.

Sadly, the city turned into hell that night, in just a couple of hours. The chaos, the groans, the police sirens, the gunshots, the cries for help and the excruciating pain. The phone left on your nightstand burned the bridge path behind you, forcing you to continue only forward, alone again. However, the desolation of the world ended for you when a community appeared, suspiciously perfect, like a cruel illusion in the desert when you're one step away from perishing: Woodbury. They had a system, hierarchies, and even order, but one day, on your way to work as a doctor's assistant, a voice caught your attention while it froze your heart.

“Fuck. Me. Right. Now... ain't ya ma lil' brotha's bunny.” The looks on both of your faces are equally incredulous, always underestimating each other's fervent desire to survive, even if you two cared for each other. “I thought ya'd be underground by now, darlin'. Or ya'd be a walker's lunch.”

“I'd never give you that satisfaction, asshole.” A sarcastic smile appears on your lips, and your gaze rests on the memory of what had once been his hand, raising an eyebrow. “I see your hand finally fell off like I told you. I warned you, didn't I?”

Merle Dixon hated the crumbs of pity to the point of repulsion and anger, but he found none in your sincere gaze, with you relieved to see that at least he was still alive, and a genuine smile spread across his own lips.

But everything always felt unstable, like walking through a landmine, almost waiting for it all to explode—until eventually it all did after a while, when two women walked through the front door during a heavy night, but towards opposite directions. One blonde headed to the governor's room, while the green–eyed woman was forced to exist in a cell, unaware of the other's existence. No one was supposed to know about her, but the young woman became a poorly kept secret that shattered your calm when you snuck in and she asked for a shred of your sympathy, ultimately uttering a name you thought you'd never hear again, just to show you she had a family.

“We need to get out of this fucking place now, Merle.” Your voice sounds impatient and scared, almost like your racing heart that you can't stop.

He stops walking around the little room of the house.

“Not as fast as ya did when ya left ma brotha.” Merle laughs, but without a hint of fun.

“You have the intelligence and empathy of a fucking rock, stupid asshole.” You let out a sigh, almost in resignation. “I'm not going to leave a woman at the mercy of a sick person. Doesn’t matter that he helped me. Either I'll get her out of there or at least I'll die trying.”

“Hey. Thanks for mentionin' yer dyin' to see ma lil' brotha.” Merle laughs again, wistfully this time when he sees you have the same expression. “'kay. I'll help. How ya wanna do this, honey?”

You swallow, fighting the lump in your throat.

“That woman, Andrea, do you think she can be trusted?”

The darkness of the following night deepened until the dawn began to claim its place, and the colors of the fire spread across every corner of that community, disappearing into the empty sky, bullets whizzing by until everything returned to absolute silence, where the world was once again dangerous only from the monsters stalking the forest. Daryl's people, they managed to infiltrate and break the seemingly unbreakable pillars of Woodbury, and their community and yours blended together until they merged for the common good: to survive, to live in peace even in the ruins of that world.

There were so many people in the woods, free at last. Young people, adults, families, children.

“Bunny?”

Behind you, that stupid nickname in his deep voice makes you gulp, but always full of affection and this time without that fake touch of sarcasm Daryl always used to tease you, promising to never hunt rabbits again just so your pet's soul could rest in peace. Seconds or a lifetime, the relentless time would never have allowed you to be ready for that reunion, and life doesn't stop, so you turn around.

The moment your gaze met Daryl's, the ocean in his eyes reawakened in a second, bringing with it tears he held back until he reached you. His free hand clasped your waist as the relief of seeing you again mixed with his fear of never seeing you again, forcing him to drop his forehead against your shoulder for a moment before pulling you into a hug. Your hand, which wasn't holding your gun, holds the side of his head, all under the confused and even stunned glances coming from the side of his group, people searching for answers in each other's eyes.

Daryl pulls away, just enough to press his forehead against yours, hand on your face now.

"I knew ya were alive, bunny." He whispers, because Daryl feels his overwhelming feelings creating a lump in his throat, blocking all strength in him, even in his voice.

You let out a small laugh that turns into a sigh.

"Your hair has grown out."

Daryl chuckles too, finally feeling the warmth of your body slow his wild heartbeat.

Back in the arms of her own husband, the place where she belonged, Maggie nods in your direction, a weak, trembling smile on her lips that remains even after Rick, their leader, leads the way for the others, toward a real community. The road is long, but not eternal, though somewhere in the middle, you go a little further to help the lonely, weary grandfather who lost his family the night it all started, and an arm like Max did in a past war, the bar owner, the man who made a nest for you in the center of his home.

“She’s stronger than I thought.” Merle exhales, standing next to his brother, both of their gazes on you. “A pain in ma ass all this time, but (Y/N) is family, ain’t she? so I can’t talk too much shit 'bout ma favorite sister–in–law.”

Daryl inhales, but all the already polluted air in the world doesn’t seem enough to fill his body.

“She won’t forgive me for what I did. I can see it in her blank stare.”

Merle purses his lips, deliberating whether making a joke to be true to his nature and mocking the pain of others, even if it came from his own brother, is the right thing to do at that moment. But even he and his inability to empathize can see a bit of Daryl's broken gaze, and for a second, as Merle swallows painfully, his younger brother's eyes take him back to when Daryl was just a child, right to the moment when he understood that the pain he experienced for the first time was only the beginning of something much worst.

Daryl had the same sad, resigned look, just when Merle thought he'd never see it again: it was the same intensity, only with a different kind of pain. No, even more so. Much worse. That's why Merle doesn't say anything even after you all reach the prison. The sight takes your breath away, but when the gates close and seal the place, it doesn't feel like a prison at all, with the duty to lock you up, deprive you of your freedom, but rather a place where you can flourish again just when the world seemed doomed to wither.

The long day ends when the cells are occupied, almost all of them. Only a few members of Daryl's group remain standing in the cold place that once served as a visiting room for prisoners.

"I ain't sleepin' with ma baby brotha an' his annoyin' wife. No roommates this time, damn it. M' tired of that shit."

"Merle!" You chide him, like a child learning how to behave when the thought of abandoning him on another rooftop seems looming again, but the bossy tone in your voice is enough to shut him up, relieved that he doesn’t resent them too much to bring the subject up again, with him raising his only remaining hand in a gesture of harmlessness before retreating when Hershel tells him there’s one at the end of Corridor G. When he finally disappears, the discomfort is replaced by surprise that shines like the summer sun at that sweltering season on the others’ faces, even Daryl’s, a few feet away from you. “Sorry, everyone, he is still learning to pee outside like a good dog. Please don’t kick him out.”

You were even funny, and even though you didn't know it, people would soon love you.

Rick clears his throat, still shocked by the revelation that the most unsociable person in that place had feelings, even a wife, a person he called by a nickname that seemed covered in glitter when his personality was as hard as a rock.

"Uh, I guess you don't need a room of your own, do you, (Y/N)? I mean, you and Daryl..."

No one hears or senses your sigh.

"No, of course, it's fine like that."

Another throat clearing comes from the side, and the woman with short hair approaches. Carol.

"You're the only one who hasn't eaten yet." Her gaze is gentle, so soft and filled with maternal love. "Why don't we go to the dining room? I'll get you some more comfortable clothes, too."

You nod, hoping to delay the awkward moment as much as possible.

“Thank you.”

You step back to leave beside her and the hallway feels cold, walls still foreign to you.

“So you and Daryl…” Carol laughs, trying to lighten the moment, but even the sound she tries to contain is sweet.

“What can I say? I've always had a soft spot for bad boys.”

She nods.

“But he's not really bad.”

You shake your head confidently.

“No, he's not at all. In fact, he's one of the best people I've ever met.”

Carol looks at you fondly.

“And yet he hurt you.”

“Yeah, he did.” The pain you thought was forgotten somewhere in your chest awakens abruptly, and you have to swallow to dispel the lump that forms in your throat with the radical idea of ​​ending things there so you don't suffer like you did again. “Do you know anything about that?”

She nods, gently so as not to cross the line.

“It may sound strange, but Daryl is my best friend. Crazy, right?” Carol opens her eyes a little wider, needing no words to tell you that this was something crazy, even for her, and you both laugh. “I don’t know him as much as you do, but I know Daryl can be a toxic soul sometimes, hurting people, even though he doesn’t mean to or even want to. In fact, it makes sense why he kept yelling at others at first. I mean, I don’t condone it, but now I understand that he was dealing with that fear that grew in his chest as time passed: the terror of never seeing the person he loves the most again.”

Her voice remained gentle, warm, and yet, it conveys the pain of her own big loss.

“I’m so sorry, really.”

“Thank you, honey.” Carol smiles, her words short but heartfelt, though the memory of her baby still brings tears to her eyes. “Listen, Daryl Dixon can be cruel sometimes, but he’s not a cruel person, not when he wanted to move heaven and earth to find my Sophia, the same thing he tried to do to find you. The only reason why he never left us was because I begged him not to, so I’m sorry. Sometimes we act inappropriately, but that doesn’t define who we really are. I lived with a cruel person, and Daryl is definitely not that.”

Your shoulders slump, but it doesn't feel like defeat: it feels as if with that sigh, you were able to let go of a tiny bit of pain that seemed to have been lodged in your chest forever. And when only scraps of food remain on your plate, you leave the room until you find his slightly open cell, but covered with a blanket. Daryl straightens after placing his crossbow against the wall the moment you fully enter, but his shy, even scared gaze avoids looking you directly in the eye, not when the terror of losing you just as he found you feels suffocating.

A candlelight flickers and casts shadows against the walls.

"M' sorry, m' really sorry, bunny." His low voice trembles, but his body continues to move closer to yours. "I've wanted to tell ya m' sorry since that night."

You want to take a step back, but you remain in your place.

"I still remember what I told you that night."

There's no reproach in your voice, no hatred, and Daryl stands before you, nodding, trying to be brave.

“I know, ya were right, but please don’ walk away from me, don’ leave me, m' beggin' ya. Been dead all this time without ya.” His nervous hands cup your face when you don't step back, calloused fingers holding your skin gently, bringing his face closer to yours when yours leans toward his in response, your hands clutching his bare arms. “Jus’ be my bunny again, okay? Lemme prove ya this time I’ll be better.”

Your thumb glides over his skin, and Daryl can feel the electricity of that small but powerful gesture.

“Okay.”

[koenigsdossier]

Pervert König

König had a bit of a... problem. He was obsessed with your underwear. A bit too much, he would say. It wasn't weird or anything because you two were dating and had been intimate, but he just felt so guilty about it.

+18 NSFW, panty thief, scent kink, male masturbation, fantasizing about eating out reader, AFAB reader

He had tried to resist the temptation at first. The temptation being your panties hanging out of your dirty clothes basket, of course. He felt guilty for even having these urges and even worse for indulging in them. He just felt like he was invading your personal, private space by stealing your panties. Specifically, your used panties that he got from your dirty laundry basket.

He just couldn't help himself, though. They held your sweet, heavy scent so perfectly. They smell exactly like that slick, wet arousal that König loved so much. They got to hold your perfect cunt all day, soaking up everything that happened throughout your day. God, what he would give to hold your cunt all day. He could play with your pussy whenever you wanted to, all you would have to do is ask him and his fingers would start rubbing your clit. But you did look so cute in your underwear. He did love how the soft material stretched over your hips and ass, holding and squeezing your curves so perfectly.

König always put your panties back, too. He may be taking them without your knowledge, but he always made sure to clean them and put them back where they belonged. Of course, after he used them, though.

At first, he would just sniff them. He would put them under his mask and hold up them to his nose as he jerked off, imagining it was your actual wet cunt above him. God the smell of your panties made it seem like your pussy really was above him. He could just ask you to sit on his face, but you had just started having sex with each other. He felt like it was too soon to ask you anything like that, wanting to instead ease in on his desires and kinks. He didn't want to scare you away or weird you out. But yet here he was, stealing your panties to help him with his fanasties.

Soon, sniffing them wasn't enough anymore. König very quickly gave into the urge to lick the fabric he was holding to his face. He swirled his tongue around where your clit sat in the fabric, his taste buds instantly flooded with the sweet taste of you. He would always very quickly lose himself in tonguing the fabric, mind growing blank at the taste of you that your panties held so perfectly. He would pump his cock faster, cumming before he even realized it as he fantasized about eating you out. It wasn't that he hadn't eaten you out yet. It was just he was instantly obsessed with your taste and smell. He just wanted to spend hours between your legs, inhaling your arousing scent as he tasted your delicious slick over and over again. He wanted to continue tonguing your now cum soaked pussy as he swallowed every bit of slick you gave him. But again, he didn't want to scare you off or weird you out with his desires. Your panties and his mind would do just fine.

Eventually, König rubbed his dick on your panties. He had been keeping himself from doing it, not wanting to get cum stains on your underwear and have you find out what he was doing. But he could only hold back for so long before the idea of his scent mixing with yours consumed his thoughts. It made his possession flare up, wanting to scent your pussy in the smell of his cock and cum. It felt like he was claiming you in a way, even if he did end up washing your panties before placing them back in your dresser. He just hoped his smell somehow lingered on them, and you were walking around with your cunt soaking up his scent. The idea always left him so hard and needing to jerk off into your panties. It helped that the soft fabric seemed to soak up all his pre-cum as it poured from his tip, as he squeezed every little bit out onto your panties. He wanted to make sure they took all of it. He did feel the most guilty about this, though. He was stealing your clothes and pumping his cock against them. What would you think if you found out your sweet, loving boyfriend was doing this?

He felt like his world came crashing down when you caught him. He had been so careful, so sneaky to make sure you didn't find out about his dirty little secret. He had just been so focused on preparing for a mission that he didn't have time to wash and return your panties to you. He didn't even realize you knew you were missing a pair and wondering what happened to them until you found them under his bed by complete accident.

He sat frozen in his chair, the files before him all blurring together as you asked him what they were doing here. He couldn't look at you as you held the piece of clothing on your finger, letting it hang off of it as you looked at him confused. He couldn't say anything to you, his mouth dry as he stared down at his desk. He wanted the ground to swallow him up when you spoke up again, asking him what that stain on them was, your face a bit flushed now. He had to tell you the truth. There was no way he could lie his way out of this one.

His voice was shaky as he told you what he's been doing behind your back, never feeling more nervous in his life than in this moment. You would be grossed out, right? You break things off right here because he was a creep and a pervert, right? He finally looked over at you when you walked over to him, placing the panties in his lap as you looked away from him now. He thought he was hearing things when you told him that you actually found this really hot, that he could even keep them for a little longer if he wanted to. König fell in love with you a little bit more at that moment.

[havecouraqe]

Reconnection

Pairing: Go Hyuntak x fem!reader

Summary: Having known of Hyuntak from his training days of Tae Kwon Do, you never thought you'd run into him again. What started as admiration from afar quickly turned into the beginning of something more.

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: Bullying, profanity, mentions of blood. Nothing but fluff towards the end.

A/N: Part 1 ☆ Part 2 ☆ Part 3

After Hyuntak left yesterday, you didn't know what to think. He has your number now and continues to offer to walk you home after school. Did that make you and him friends? Friends can softly caress the side of your face, right? They can also call you cute. They can hold hands and lean towards one another, eyes looking at their plump lips, imagining how they would taste and—

You shook your head, gently slapping your cheeks to get the daydream out of your mind. The new day had forecast cloudy weather, and you shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, holding on to one of the small hand warmers. As you continued your walk to school, anxiety slowly crept its way into you. Having no idea how the girls would react, it felt best to act like nothing even happened.

The minute you stepped foot into the school, however, all you heard was gossip. Slut. Whore. Bitch. This didn't surprise you. Although Hyuntak wasn't the most coveted boy from his school, the first being Baku, he was still extremely popular with some of the girls and even boys. So you've heard.

You kept your head down, making your way to homeroom until someone pushed you straight into the lockers. The loud sound startled some of the girls who turned to look at the scene. You winced in pain, the combination lock had hit your upper arm, and you held on to it before looking back at the girl who did this to you.

Yuna. She was a well-known bully in the school, her group of followers too scared of her to think for themselves. Her parents owned a bunch of hotels around the city, so she pretty much got whatever she wanted. With the way she's glaring at you now, you got the idea that Hyuntak was just another thing of wants on her list.

"Hey," she spat. "What's the deal with you and Go Hyuntak?"

You straightened up, adjusting the shoulder strap on your backpack. "Nothing."

Yuna laughed. "Liar. We know he went home with you last night."

"We're just friends."

"Well, stay away from him." She snapped. "If I see you two together again, you better watch yourself."

The girl turned on her heels, her minions following close behind. What the hell was that? You scoffed, having expected the name calling, but you didn't take Yuna as one to resort to violence. Her way was mostly picking on someone from a distance. You groaned, the pain of your bruised arm coming back into focus.

Walking into class, your best friend, Ja-in, was busy trying to pass another level of a game on her phone. She must have heard your presence when you sat down at the desk next to hers because she said without looking up, "Hey, y/n, don't think you're off the hook from what happened with Gotak yesterday. We want to know everything."

"Don't worry," you said, rubbing your arm. "Yuna beat you to it." You laughed at your own pun in your head.

Soo-ah, another close friend who sat in front of you noticed. "What happened? Did she hurt you?"

You shook your head. "No, just pushed me into the lockers."

"What?" Ja-in whipped around to face you, forgetting her game. "Did you fight back?"

"And risk getting suspended? Of course not."

Even though you haven't really practiced Tae Kwon Do after hearing about Hyuntak's knee injury, you were confident in remembering enough for basic self-defense. It wasn't something you'd ever thought to use, though. Your life was pretty mundane. Until now.

"What did she say?" Soo-ah asked you.

"To stay away from him."

Ja-in scoffed, "Hey, the nerves of that girl. Just because she's rich, she thinks she can have whatever she wants."

"Guys, it's fine. I'm sure she'll forget about it eventually. People like her have a shiny new toy almost every week."

"Are you going to see him again today? Gotak?" Soo-ah questioned.

You became aware that the class had fallen silent. It wasn't a full room since school hadn't started yet, but you didn't want the rumors to pick back up again. So you lied, shaking your head no. Your friends only nodded, understanding that this would be a conversation for a later time. As the class started filling up, you unzipped your backpack and focused on your academics for the rest of the day. It was also a good distraction from thinking about Hyuntak and how you were going to see him later.

◇

Ja-in and Soo-ah came rushing to find you at your last class after the last bell. As you were putting notebooks into your bag, they quickly scooped you up from your desk, leading you to one of the class windows overlooking the front of the school. "Hey, what are you two doing?"

"Look!"

You stared out, and because you were on the second floor of the school, it didn't take long for you to see them. Hyuntak and Baku were standing across the street at the front of the school. What were they both doing here? This was bad. You were sure Yuna had heard by now and was probably waiting for you out front.

"Shit." You said under your breath.

"Maybe Yuna already left." Soo-ah hoped.

Ja-in laughed. "I wouldn't count on it."

With one last look at Hyuntak, you turned away and grabbed your stuff. "Let's go."

The walk to the entrance was nerve-wracking, but you held your head high. You decided that whatever happened, you didn't want Hyuntak or Baku to get involved. This was your fight, especially if it came down to that. But you hoped it didn't.

Stepping outside, Yuna and her posse were waiting for you. They were blocking your way. Trying to look unfazed, you stared at her. "Hey, move."

When she didn't, you tried again. "I said m—”

Yuna fisted your uniform, pulling you around and throwing you into her mob of followers. Without having time to react, they dragged you further into the courtyard, yanking your hair while others threw punches at you. Before raising your arms to protect your face, you saw Soo-ah run off while Ja-in tried to help you. Two of the minions held on to her as she screamed in protest. "y/n!"

You fell to the ground, your lip busted, and felt the kicks begin. You struggled for breath when one of the girls landed her foot on your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. Yuna walked towards you with her arms crossed, "I told you to stay away from him. Stand her up."

Two pairs of hands grabbed either side of you, bringing you to your feet. You felt dizzy, and your vision was a bit blurry. Looking at Yuna as she stepped closer, anger started building up inside of you. Waiting for the right moment, you used the support of the two girls holding you up to land a jump front kick straight to her face.

She screamed, stumbling back and bent over in pain. You were breathing heavily and saw that a crowd had formed when some of the girls cheered. A few of them even held out their phones, capturing the fight. When Yuna got her composure, this time she yelled out with rage. Blood ran down her nose as she charged towards you with a fist. You closed your eyes, ready to take the punch, only for it to not land on your face. You heard people gasped and opened your eyes.

Hyuntak held Yuna's wrist inches away from you. You looked at his face, and you've never seen him so angry. He glared at her, his chest heaving up and down. Shoving her hand away, his words came out as a threat, "Do you have a death wish?"

"What?" Yuna chuckled in confusion or shock, maybe both.

He glanced at you and then looked back at her, "Five against one is unfair, don't you think?" His voice came out through gritted teeth. It was only then that you realized just how much he was trying to control himself. 

“And what are you doing to do? Hit me?” She mocked. 

Up above, a voice was heard from one of the windows. "Hey! What's going on down there?"

That was everyone's cue to disband. Not looking to get into trouble, the two girls holding you let go as they ran. You almost fell over if it weren't for Hyuntak catching you and holding you in place. Ja-in and Soo-ah ran up to you full of worry.

"y/n! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." You tried walking but failed. Feeling lightheaded, you let Hyuntak support you. 

Baku's voice came from behind them. "Gotak, the taxi is here."

Hyuntak hadn't said a word, all the while looking at you. Still holding on to you, he turned around and bent down a bit. Looking over his shoulder, he only said, "Get on."

Too tired to argue, you wrapped your arms over his neck, holding on tight as he lifted you up, his arms supporting your legs wrapped around his waist. His back felt warm and strong as you rested against him. When he turned you around, you saw that most of the courtyard was empty and Yuna had left.

"Thank you for coming to get me." Hyuntak said to Soo-ah. He then looked at Ja-in. "And thank you for trying to help her."

"Will you let us know as soon as she's alright?" Soo-ah asked.

"Of course."

"Take care of her, please." You heard Ja-in say.

You couldn't see his expression, but he only nodded. Your friends said goodbye to you as Hyuntak and Baku started walking towards the taxi. Once inside, you leaned against him, your eyes closed and sleep beginning to take over. Baku, who had been busy putting all of the bags into the trunk, hopped in and urgently said to the driver, "Please take us to the nearest hospital."

Hyuntak looked you over, moving your hair away from your face. His hands felt rough but gentle as he took in your injuries. You lightly shivered when his thumb touched over your bruised lips. You also had a few scratches from the girls' nails, and your body ached. A lot. Looking up at him, you leaned further into his touch. The look on his face was a mix of pain and worry. He hated seeing you like this.

“She's going to be okay, Gotak.” Baku reassured him.

The last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep was Hyuntak's soft voice saying, “I know. She's a fighter. That's what I like about her.”

◇

Your eyes fluttered open, the bright light blinding you for a moment. Taking in your surroundings, the hospital room was quiet apart from the beeping of the monitor, keeping your vitals in check. Your arm felt heavy and found Hyuntak leaning over the edge of the bed sleeping on a chair, his head down and arm over yours. Feeling emotional that he didn't leave, you reached over and ran your fingers through his hair. He stirred awake, lifting his head and widening his eyes when he saw that you awoke. 

“y/n. How are you feeling?”

“I'm grand.” You winced, trying to sit up. Your joke didn’t seem to land as he helped you.

Sighing, you looked at him, “I'm okay. Really. What did the doctor say?”

Hyuntak sat back down. “Apart from the scratches and bruises, he thinks you'll be fine. He said you'll be sore and to watch out for a possible concussion.”

“Did they call my dad?”

“They couldn't reach him.”

“Probably for the best. I wouldn't want him to worry if it's nothing serious.”

You saw him bite his tongue, looking away. “What?”

“You're in a hospital, and you think it's nothing serious?” He said, frowning.

“Considering it's not life or death, no, it's not.”

He looked at you incredulously. And then, he started laughing. Throwing his head back, you watched as he tried to catch his breath. You didn't know how to feel, much less what to say, so you just listened to the sound of his laughter, trying to commit it to memory.

“At first, I thought trouble went looking for you,” he smiled, petting your head, “but it looks like you're the one that goes looking for it.” 

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes.

The door to your room opened, and Baku walked in, carrying your backpack.

“Hey. How are you doing?”

“I'm alright.” You smiled. “Thank you for your help today.”

“I'm just sorry we have to keep meeting like this. Even if seeing you kick that girl in the face was badass.” Baku grinned. “The doctor said you can leave whenever you're ready.”

Hearing the good news, you began to get up. The boys left to let you get changed, and you checked your phone once you had your uniform and jacket back on. Ja-in and Soo-ah had sent you messages checking in on you. You quickly replied, saying you were okay and on your way home. Exiting the hospital, the day had turned to night during your slumber. You checked the time and saw it was almost eight.

“I'll be heading home first.” Baku said.

Hyuntak hugged him tightly. “Thanks for sticking around.”

“And miss all the fun? Come on, you know me better than that.” He turned to you, leaning down to your level. “If he gets out of line, you give him one of those kicks for me, would you?” You both laughed.

“Hey, Park Hu-min! What are you saying?” Hyuntak objected, playfully punching his friend.

Baku dodged, striding away, only turning around to yell back, “See you tomorrow!” 

“Ah, that guy.” He shook his head, hands on his hips.

You smiled and started walking in the direction of your home when you were pulled back from the sleeve of your jacket.

“Where are you going, troublemaker?” Hyuntak questioned.

“Home.” You stated, ignoring the new nickname. 

He shook his head. “It's too far. My place is closer.”

“I can call a taxi.”

“And who's going to take care of you if you get a concussion?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. You wanted to argue, saying you'll be fine. But then you recall his words from yesterday. How he wants to be there for you. You knew you would do the same for him in a heartbeat, so you gave in.

“Okay.” You nodded.

“Are you okay to walk, or should I carry you again?” 

You felt embarrassed at his question for some reason and quickly said, “I can walk.”

He nodded, grabbing your backpack from your hands. His own was already on his back, so he just slung yours over his shoulder. 

“It's not far,” He said softly, feeling his free hand grab yours. Blushing, you looked up at him, “Is this alright?”

Nodding your head, Hyuntak started leading you towards his home. The night air was chilly, so you leaned closer to him for warmth. You both were lost in thought, but it was a comfortable silence, the noise of the city filling in. His hand felt secure, holding yours like you might disappear. After a few blocks, he led you up to his apartment. Opening the door, you excused yourself as you stepped in. It was surprisingly spacious.

“Are your parents home?” You wondered.

“Mom's working a night shift at a clinic. She won't be back till late morning.” He set the backpacks down and turned towards you. “I'll lend you some of my clothes. My room is down the hall, first door on the right.”

Taking off your shoes, you slowly made your way. Opening the door and turning on the light, you caught your breath at the sight before you. Tae Kwon Do trophies lined up on one side of his room above his dresser. You walked towards them and noticed he had some various medals hung around the mirror. Reaching up, you twirled one with your hand, admiring it.

“Are you thirsty?”

You whipped around and saw Hyuntak standing at the doorway, holding a glass of water. He was expressionless as he walked in and offered it to you. Taking it, you watched him as he looked for something. He grabbed his blue hoodie and a pair of clean sweatpants from his closet.

“These are going to fit too big on you.” He finally smiled. 

“It's okay.” You smiled back.

Leaving you to it, you took off everything apart from your underwear. Slipping on his hoodie, which was slowly becoming your favorite, you inhaled his scent. It relaxed you and brought you comfort even though it was too big on you, going past your waist. You thought about not even wearing the sweatpants, but nerves got the better of you. You tied your hair up in a bun with a hair tie you found in the pocket of your uniform. Pushing back the sleeves to free your hands, you opened the door.

Finding him in the kitchen, the aroma of ramen made your stomach growl. He turned to look at you and chuckled, “I figured you'd be hungry since we practically missed dinner.”

You starred at him, your eyes traveling down from his face and saw that he had changed clothes as well, settling for some basketball shorts and a loose black t-shirt. Sitting down at the kitchen counter, you found him staring at you too, “What?”

“Blue looks lovely on you.”

“I like it better on you.” You blushed, looking down.

Hyuntak smiled warmly, placing the bowl of noodles in front of you. He sat across from you, and you both began to eat. You ate with gusto, feeling satisfied with the delicious meal. He watched and smiled to himself. After taking a bite, he spoke up.

“Who was that girl you were fighting?”

You blinked, not expecting his question. Swallowing the remaining food in your mouth, you drank some water before answering. “Yuna. The most popular girl in the school.”

“Why did she start the fight?”

“She wanted me to stay away from you.” You shrugged.

“How come?”

That made you laugh, “I'll ask her that next time I'm smashing her nose in.”

He remained silent, deep in thought. You looked at him, a bit surprised. Did he seriously mean his question? He had to know what some of the girls thought of him, right? How they all wanted to date him or just hook up if they could. You hesitated before saying, “Almost everyone at school thinks you're amazing.”

“They do?”

You nodded.

There was a moment of silence until he asked, “Is that what you think too?”

“Yes.” You confessed, unable to look at him. “Even before we met at training, I always thought of you as amazing.” 

Hyuntak's heart swelled with love at your words. He got up and came around to pull you in for a hug. Wrapping your arms around him like you did last time, you pulled him in closer. You felt his chin rest at the top of your head and place a hand at the back of it.

“I think you're amazing too.”

His warmth engulfed you, compared to the coldness of the rain when he hugged you last time. He had this aura about him that just made you want to trust him. His eyes, so kind and inviting towards you. The more you got to know him, the more you realized you've never met anyone like him before. People like Hyuntak don't come around very often.

Eventually, he pulls back, lightly pinching your cheek, “Are you sleepy yet?”

“A little.” You giggled. 

“I set an extra toothbrush in the bathroom across my room for you. I can also make you some hot chocolate to help you sleep. Go get some rest, and I'll be there shortly.”

You quickly brushed your teeth and went back to his room, taking the opportunity to look around more. There were a few basketball trophies above his desk on the other side. Further down, some workout equipment, like a jump rope, lay on the floor. He had some books here and there, a Bluetooth stereo, and other little knick knacks. Overall, his room reflected him down to a tee.

When Hyuntak came back, you took the mug and sat on his bed, legs crossed. He grabbed his basketball, tossing it from hand to hand as he sat down on his desk chair. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“My friends will want to know how I am, so I'll probably invite them over.” You took a sip of your drink.

“Since it'll be Saturday, it's a good idea to take it easy.”

“We don't go out much. I'm more of a homebody.”

Hyuntak nodded.

“Do you go out a lot?” You asked.

“Sometimes. My friends and I do volunteer work from time to time. Either that or we just hang out playing basketball or catch up at Baku's dad's restaurant.”

It was your turn to nod. You finished your drink and watched as he took it and placed it on his desk.

“You can sleep in here,” he said. “I'll take the couch.”

“Won't you be uncomfortable?”

A teasing smile crept up on his face, “Where do you suggest I sleep then?”

“In your room.” You tried not to notice his smirk. “I can sleep on the couch.”

That upset him. “In your condition? Don't be ridiculous.”

You tried staring him down, and he sighed. “I can see where this is going to go.”

To your disbelief, he turned off the light and walked over to the empty side of his bed. He undid the covers and sat down, turning to look at you. “Is this okay with you?”

Swallowing hard, you quietly let out a yes, unsure if he heard it.

“Come here.”

You crawled in next to him under the covers, your heart beating fast. Both of you were on your side, facing each other. With the little bit of light coming in from his window, you were able to see his face. His hand moved a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes never leaving yours.

“You're so pretty.” He whispered.

Melting at his words, you felt brave to move closer to him. You placed your forehead against his chest, and he welcomed you, wrapping his arms around you. His heart was beating fast, just like yours. Sleep started taking over, and you tried to fight it, not wanting to go just yet.

“Hyuntak,” you said softly, “I really like you.”

You felt his soft lips press against your forehead. Overcome with emotion, Hyuntak pulled you in closer.

“I really like you too, y/n.”

“Hmm,” you humed with a smile, too tired to say anything else. You drifted off to sleep, safe and sound in his arms.

a/n: Thank you all for reading. Reblogs and likes are appreciated :)

Taglist: @snowflakemoon3 , @l5byrinth , @hollxe1

[paucubarsisimp]

heyyyyy❤️.

I love your imagines . Can I request a Lamine imagine where you guys are dating and you go to Coachella together and have a good time with the other Barca Boys and y’all are just lovey dovey 🤍.

Thank You

coachella

pairing: lamine yamal x reader

summary: in which you go to coachella with lamine and his friends

warnings: pda - a LOT of pda

you never thought you’d find yourself at coachella with five of barça’s brightest stars—and definitely not with one of them as your boyfriend. but here you were: sun on your skin, glitter in your hair, and lamine’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist like he never wanted to let go.

the moment you stepped onto the festival grounds, it felt like something out of a movie. giant art sculptures towered over you, music pulsed from every direction, and the air smelled like sunscreen, dust, and something sweet you couldn’t quite place. you could barely take two steps without someone snapping a picture of the boys—though they tried to stay lowkey in hats and sunglasses, it was very hard to hide five gorgeous footballers.

lamine leaned in close. “wanna disappear from everyone for a bit?”

you smiled up at him, heart fluttering at how soft his voice got just for you. “only if you hold my hand the whole time.”

he grinned, that boyish sparkle in his eyes, and laced his fingers with yours.

you snuck off behind one of the main tents for a little quiet, only to be interrupted by pau calling out, “lamine! stop sneaking off for kisses, we see you!”

you giggled and tried to hide your face in lamine’s shoulder, but he didn’t care. he pulled you right in for a kiss anyway—slow and sweet, like the world around you had faded to silence. he rested his forehead against yours after. “they’re just jealous.”

“obviously,” you whispered, making him laugh.

back with the group, fermín had laid out a blanket near the ferris wheel and was attempting to build the world’s most chaotic picnic with random snacks from the vip lounge. “this is dinner,” he declared proudly, holding up a box of churros and an avocado.

pablo rolled his eyes. “that’s a crime against food.”

“i don’t see you doing anything,” fermín shot back.

meanwhile, héctor was on a mission to document every moment—camera in hand, climbing onto things he probably shouldn’t be climbing on for the perfect angles. he caught a candid of you and lamine dancing, and when he showed it to you later, you barely recognized yourself. you looked…happy. glowing. like the main character in a sun-drenched romance movie.

and lamine—he looked at you like he already knew that.

throughout the day, the two of you were basically attached at the hip. he kept stealing kisses when no one was looking—though honestly, sometimes when everyone was looking, too. at one point, he just straight-up pulled you into his lap during a set while pau complained, “can we go five minutes without pda?”

“no,” lamine said simply, and kissed your temple.

you ended up buying matching heart-shaped sunglasses, dancing together barefoot in the sand near one of the smaller stages, and slow-dancing to an acoustic set while the sun dipped low. the boys teased you both mercilessly, but not even pablo’s dramatic gagging noises could ruin the way lamine looked at you under the orange-pink sky.

later that night, when everything had cooled down and the desert air turned chilly, you all curled up on the big blanket again. fermín passed around hoodies (pablo grumbled about lending his to pau, but still did it), and lamine tucked you into his side, your legs tangled with his under the blanket.

“i know this sounds cheesy,” he said softly into your hair, “but this is kind of perfect.”

you tilted your head to look at him. “only kind of?”

“okay, really perfect.” he smiled, and in that moment, the lights of the ferris wheel reflecting in his eyes, he looked like everything good in the world.

you rested your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat mingling with the distant thrum of music and the quiet laughter of your friends. his hand found yours again under the blanket, fingers intertwined.

“i love you, you know?” he said, voice almost a whisper.

you smiled against him, heart full. “i know. i love you more.”

“impossible,” he whispered back.

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @nngkay, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, lmk if you want to be added!

[bullet-prooflove]

A Friend of Denny's: Dennis Whitaker x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty @sargeant-sad-eyes @caffeinatedwoman @hooks-martin

Companion piece to:

Peppermint - The taste of peppermint will always have a special place in Dennis’s heart.

The Morgue Thing - A miscommunication between you and Dennis almost ends things before they begin.

Written In The Stars - Your first date with Dennis takes place underneath the stars.

In The Park - Dennis reveals a secret after the two of you spend the night together in the park.

Virgin - There's a rumour going around about Dennis.

Debauched (NSFW) - Karaoke night ends a lot differently than it did the first time around.

Symphony (NSFW) - Dennis has never eaten pussy before...

Pretty Boy (NSFW) - You and Dennis take the next step in your relationship.

Permanent Marker - Your protectiveness over Dennis shows when you find out about the betting pool.

The Porn Boom (NSFW) - You and Dennis navigate the dynamics of your budding relationship.

Wild Flowers - Some time spent out in nature leads to Dennis discussing the issues with his family.

Dennis doesn’t want you to meet his parents.

You realise that after you hand him the handwritten list of the best affordable places to take them during their weeklong stay in Pittsburgh.

“You said your dad likes pizza so I was thinking we could hit the Driftwood Oven for that perfect sourdough crust before fulfilling your mom’s sweet tooth needs with Millie’s just around the corner for ice cream.” You’re leaning in close, the scent of fresh soap and eucalyptus flooding your senses as your fingertip runs down the list. “I’ve put stars by their must-sees if they get time on the trip.”

“Thanks.” He says studying it diligently. “But I was thinking it should probably just be me tonight, you know since we’ve just started talking again.”

His words strike you like tiny barbs, needling you under the skin even though you know it’s unintentional.

Come on Lola. You aren’t the type of girl boys take home to meet their mom. One of your exes had told you.

Dennis isn’t like that you remind yourself. He’s been open about his issues with his parents. It’s just not the right time especially since he’s trying to rebuild the relationship he has with them.

“Yea that makes sense.” You say, ignoring the ache in your chest as you step back out of his proximity. He folds the list up before tucking it into the pocket of his scrubs.

“I could come over after…” He suggests but you shake your head, your hands clasped in front of you.

That line…

It’s another blast from the past. You can’t meet my parents but I’m happy to keep hooking up.

It’s not him, you tell yourself. It’s you, he doesn’t know that every single one of the words coming out of his mouth are triggers for the neurosis you’ve earned from your past relationships.

“No. You enjoy your time with your parents.” You say with a smile that doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “Don’t worry about me.”

When you decide to go out for a run after work it’s because you’ve had a really shitty day. There’d been a rollercoaster derailment at Kennywood and you’d spent most of your time out there helping with the onsite mortuary, collecting remains for identification by the medical examiner before documenting the process and cataloguing their belongings. As good as you are at compartmentalising, it never gets any easier especially when you’re handling kids.

You’re two miles in when you spot Dennis, he’s lingering outside Apple Castle, the best donut shop in Pittsburgh. He’s clad in a sky blue button up that you’ve never seen before, one that brings out the grey hues in his eyes.

“Hey.” You say in surprise as you slow down and pulling your earbuds out of your ears. “This is the most dressed up I’ve ever seen you.”

His cheeks colour as he tugs at the collar, popping the top button to reveal the slender curve of his throat. It causes a light flush of heat to blossom between your legs as you imagine helping him unbutton the rest of them.

“I know.” He says, rolling his eyes. “My mom realised I didn’t have any dress shirts so took me shopping, she wanted me to have some options for the residency interviews when they come up.”

“Well she has good taste.” You say, the edges of your mouth tipping up into a smile as your fingertips trail along the buttons. “You look very handsome.”

“Maybe I’ll wear it the next time we go out.” He says, his eyes glinting with mischief.

The door to the shop opens, the bell jingling and he steps away from you quickly, removing himself from your personal space. You frown at the response, your gaze shifting to a woman you recognise from the pictures in his room and her husband as they erupt onto the sidewalk, their arms laden with donut boxes.

“Those donuts are just fabulous, we got dozen for the congregation back at the hotel.” His mother says joyously before she notices you standing there. “Oh hello! Are you a friend of Denny’s?”

You look to him, waiting for him to correct her, to introduce you as his girlfriend but instead he clears his throat looking down at his shoes. You start to get this feeling then, this tingling sensation that starts in your chest and radiates into your hands.

It’s happening again, you realise. He’s not different from the other guys, he’s exactly like them.

Come on Lola, you aren’t the type of girl boys take home to meet their mom…

Fuck, you’re an idiot and the worst part is you let him off the fucking hook.

“Yes.” You say, clasping your earbuds so hard in your fist, you fear you’ll break them. “We work together at the hospital. I was just out for a run when I saw him and thought there’s my friend Dennis, I should go say hi.”

The muscle in his cheek twitches at your annunciation of the word but he still doesn’t meet your gaze.

“Well it’s lovely to meet with someone he works with.” His mom says with a smile that looks exactly like his. “I’m sure you’ll miss him when he returns to Nebraska for his residency.”

It’s then that the world falls out from underneath your feet because this, this was never meant to be long term. He has always known that he’d be leaving after Match Day. He’s always known that this relationship had an expiry date.

“Yes.” You say softly, your eyes stinging. “I’m glad he’s doing what’s best for him.”

You don’t dare look at him right now. You’re too close to falling apart.

“I need to get going, finish my run but it was nice meeting you.” You say shoving your earbuds back into your ears and cranking up the volume. “I’m sure I’ll see you around Whitaker.”

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[rexhya]

any of your chosen oc’s who fancy reader, on valentine’s day, receive a typed love letter and their favourite chocolate —- of course they’re quick to assume that it’s reader right ? same initials marking the end lines ?! the same quiet, unassuming reader who barely holds eye contact with them telling them yes ! i love you too !!! but oh actually it’s NOT them, just someone with the same initials.. watch chosen oc go crazy over thatLMAOO

(tldr - [character] crushes on y/n, thinks they like them back but it’s a misunderstanding]

yandere!loser who is exceedingly when he receives a letter on valentine's day, it read the sweetest words he could practically imagine your voice he read it

Dear Claude,

I like you a lot! I write this letter to you in hopes you receive it and can return my feelings as well.

— Love, [XX]

Claude is in pure disbelief, he immediately writes back and says yes, slipping the note straight into your locker with his number on it, desperately waiting for a text, he never gets ones. (Aww, your problably just shy...right?)

The next day he's even more confused when you walk right past in in the hallways, did you not see him when he waved?

He trys again to catch you attention in the lunch room, you're sitting with your friends on the complete opposite side of the room when he walks the shameful distance to your table to ask you why you've been ignoring him.

Your friends get quiet not so subtly laughing at the image of Claude and his baggy clothes, but he's used to others and there comments, it was only you he cared about.

"That's not my handwriting, I didn't write that." you deadpanned, slapping the arm of your friend who began a trail of laughing voices that rung in Claudes ear. Tears pricked at his eyes as he exited the lunchroom.

"Oh, yeah, right, that totally makes sense. This doesn't even look like your handwriting." you save Claude the embarrassment and direct his attention to a girl who Claude now noticed was looking at him, "I think this came from her, Claude, sorry about that."

Claude jumped as you placed an hand on his forearm. You knew his name? He didn't have it in him to ask as he walked towards the tabled where the girl was sitting, her eyes visible lit up as he walked over, but he wasnt here to accept a confession.

"You, what's your name?"

"My name? It's-"

"Actually I don't care, because it doesn't matter. Don't ever consider contacting me again you hear me? Do you know how embarrassing it was to see her look at me so pitifully? Like I was a lost kid without his mommy?"

"I–"

"Fuck off, [Name] is the only person i'll ever want."

✦ ✦

Later that evening Claude stalked your social media pages as comfort, you looked so beautiful it made him more angry when he thought of that girl and how she tries to come between you two.

The only goid thing that had come of today was the fact you knew him, i mean you did have 3 classes together but you'd never looked his way, he had no idea. Oh god the way you'd said his name made him feel so hot inside.

Claude, Claude, Claude he was very aware of the rising boner he had from replaying the sound in his mind.

To his surprise he receives a message and lo' and behold its from you. He practically screams at the sight, and with shaky hands clicks to respond.

hey, how did it go?

He's confused, if you were asking how he was feeling he felt great, was the message meant for someone else? He clenched his hands at the thought, of course it wasn't. You had texted, him. He wouldn't miss the chance.

did what go?

Much to his delight you reply immediately.

you and XXXXX duhhh, are u guys dating now or what?

He scowls at the thought of the girl.

No, it was playing a prank lol

awwe, that's too bad, anyone would beclycky enough to date you 😕

Claudes eyes bulged from their sockets, his nails clicking away at a response. What were you implying, maybe you were in love with him after all?

fghdsasf, lol uhm yeah. i could say the same for u xx

Xx, God he has to marry you.

awe thx!! anyways i'm gonna be honest tge reason why i was asking is bc my friend thinks ur cute..i was wondering if she could have ur number?

He's accidentally smashed the computer before he gets a chance to respond.

[endofthelinegang]

the patriot

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  john walker x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  #90 from the prompt list "If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?" 

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  bad words 

use this magical link here to find a number and give me a request for ANY marvel character :)

The op was supposed to be clean.

Get in, get the files, don’t get blown up. Real simple. Barely an inconvenience. Except for the part where every camera system in the building was running on spaghetti code and Cold War duct tape. Except for the part where John Walker—your Thunderbolt teammate, reluctant handler, and possibly a human caffeine tablet in a tactical vest—was stuck in the same room with you, trying to keep you from pushing every glowing button just to see what they did. And especially the part where Valentina Allegra de Fontaine called you two specifically instead of anyone else on the team to do the most absurd thing imaginable mid-mission.

“Don’t touch that,” John barked, not looking up from his datapad. He’d said it four times now. He was practically hitting you in the head with his elbow from how close he was standing to make sure you hadn’t gotten bored and decided to just mess around with something. 

You hovered your finger over the blinking red control switch labeled COOLANT OVERRIDE.  “You don’t even know what this does.” 

“I don’t need to,” he muttered, thumbing through corrupted files. “I know you, and if you touch it, it’s gonna end with us knee-deep in radioactive soup or setting off an old Soviet alarm that wakes up a bear.”

You dropped your hand. “One time, Walker. I trigger one bear one time and suddenly I can’t have a little fun anymore?” In all fairness to which you did not bring up was that it had not just been you who had done it. It was actually you and Yelena discussing what the little symbols meant, she thought bear and you thought maybe a small house dog. You were wrong, and no one died. 

He gave you a look. “You shouldn’t name the bear, either.” You smiled at him and just remembered the look on his face when he walked in to see a bear three times the usual size staring him down. He was trying to kill it, and you were considering maybe keeping it as a pet, 

“Dmitri had a soul.”

He sighed like he’d been aged by this job, by you, by everything. You tapped the tops of your boots on the floor taking your hands away from the buttons you looked up at John. He was reading really intently, his thumb tapping off the back of the device creating the tiniest little noise when the hard piece of his tactical glove hit. Before he could notice you were studying him the comms crackled.

“Hey, so, uh…” It was Val. The two of you immediately made eye contact and listened in. The two of you could tell from her little “uh” that she had been on the phone all day thus far. Which was never good. “We’ve got a situation.”

You and John exchanged a look. Neither of you wanted to talk first so you pointed a finger at him before he shook his head and nudged you with his boot. “What kind of situation?” you asked slowly.

“The kind where CNN’s en route, the press already knows you’re in-country, and Walker’s last mission made him trend for destroying national land with a motorcycle  instead of the enemy. We need positive coverage. Like, immediately.” 

You blinked. He was throwing his hands around ready to respond to her and have a repeat conversation about how he did not know it was national land and that he was just doing what had to be done. But not wanting to hear that conversation you broke the brief silence, “How is that our problem?”

There was a pause on the line but you could still very faintly hear her making little sighs and the fact that she had stopped walking wherever she was headed because the little clacking of her heels stopped. You knew right then she was going to tell you something you did not wanna hear. 

“You’re both hot, you’re both in one piece, and the system’s still down so I can’t even see where the rest of your idiot team is. We’re going with plan D.” Val finally breathed it all out so fast that you barely understood her but you did catch the “you’re both hot” part which you could not fathom was going to go anywhere good. 

John narrowed his eyes looking at you before setting down what actually needed to be worked on because he too could sense this was going to be some shit,  “What’s plan D?”

“You kiss.”

Silence.

Dead silence.

Eye contact seized. 

Even the building, full of ancient rust and creaking pipes, seemed to go quiet. The machines that had been making fuzzy noises were silent. John said nothing for a second. Then: “The hell we do.”

“I’m serious,” Val snapped, now she knew the two of you had heard her and were considering her little plan. That is all a woman like herself needed. “Sell a romance arc. I don’t care if it’s real, fake, or hate-fueled. Make the press eat it up. We need a distraction.” You grabbed onto John's arm and pulled yourself up off the ground because this was way more serious than whatever she originally had you working on. 

You rubbed your forehead and started pacing back and forth, with a slightly raised voice you spat at her, “Val, I swear to God—”

She cut out. 

“Val?” you said again. “Val—”

Nothing. Comms dead.

Meanwhile, back in the basement, the team was losing it.

“We’ve almost got it,” Bucky said through clenched teeth, typing furiously at an old Soviet terminal hooked up to an external power supply Ghost had hotwired together from literal scrap metal. The keys were sticking on and off thanks to the metal of his fingers slamming them so deeply into the board. 

“Are you sure that’s the right port?” Ghost asked, upside down, practically inside the wall. She was hoping anything would work so that there was a possibility of leaving this dingy and smelly place as soon as possible. 

“It’s glowing red,” Alexei said, pointing helpfully. “That seems promising.” He was nodding and absolutely no one in the room was even looking at him.

Yelena threw her hands in the air. “Everything in this place is glowing red! The coffee machine glows red!”

“I told you not to drink from that!” Bucky barked, usually John was the one giving helpful advice or rules such as that but he was too busy running around with you. Which was honestly beneficial, Walker would have already shattered that keyboard into the wall and everyone would have been standing around bored as a team. 

Yelena shrugged. “Too late. I have regrets.” She gagged and fanned at her mouth taking in deep breaths.

“Focus!” Ghost said. “We need visual back before Val loses her entire mind.” Ava nudged into Bucky watching what he was doing to make sure nothing else went wrong.

Alexei leaned over, his piece was the only one that had been working this entire time, which he did not mention, but now he had something fun to say so it would be worth telling on himself, “Pretty sure she already did. She told them to kiss.” 

The others paused in synchronized horror, Buckys hands stopped typing, Ava did not even look backwards at the man who was now belly laughing, and Yelena slowly put her tongue back into her mouth and her hands fell to her sides, 

“…Oh no,” Yelena whispered. “They wouldn’t.”

Bucky’s fingers flew faster, he snapped out of his trance just long enough to get into a rhythm of typing and then slamming the keyboard onto the desk to prevent his earlier issue from happening. “What happened now? What could warrant that?”

“Visual coming online,” Ghost announced, shaking the hell out of the box connected to the computer that was so hot from being overworked that no one else was even willing to touch it.

Bucky smacked the monitor and jiggled it a bit watching as the static would stop and start. Then the static cleared—

And then—

“OH MY GOD,” Alexei shouted, running over to the computer and putting both hands on Bucky’s back. “I—THEY’RE—”

“ARE THEY KISSING?!” Yelena shrieked practically jumping on top of Ava who was frozen in total shock not even caring that Yelena now reeked of what smelled almost like coffee but worse.

Ghost slammed a button. “Recording started.”

“We do not need a recording of this.” Bucky groaned and sat back in the chair that was now sitting straight up and down thanks to Alexei’s weight pushing on the back of it. 

Back in the camera's line of sight, you and John were still standing close together, you had stopped pacing once you realized there was really no getting her back online and that just not doing it was not going to be an option. 

He muttered, for once he was trying to not be rude and just handle the situation for what it was, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

But you? You broke into a grin, an evil and sinister little grin as you now stood toe to toe with him, arms around his neck and hands resting right on the back. He didn’t move a muscle he just stared you down.

“Well, Walker,” you said leaning into him just enough to feel his chest rise and fall against yours. “Ready to be a patriot?”

He touched the side of his head to yours placing two hands on your hips. “You enjoy this way too much.”

“If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?” Before John could again be the one to make the final blow, you pulled your face back from his ear and pulled your arms back so that your hands could grab onto his face. The kiss hit like a switch flipping. His hands moved against your waist instinctively, firm and grounding. You felt the tension in his shoulders melt and re-coil in new, unfamiliar places. His lips were warmer than expected, mouth soft but insistent, the kind of kiss that said we’re doing this, and we’re doing it right. Then of course John took things into his own hands like you knew he eventually would, guiding you back against the cool panel wall. Your hands were going everywhere now. First you curled then into his vest, then up into his hair without thinking, because of course it was soft, and of course he groaned low in his throat when you did it. The angle shifted, deepened—

“OH MY GOD THEY’RE STILL GOING,” Yelena howled, Ava had sensed moved on once she realized that this may only be the beginning of whatever was going on so Lena had a front row seat to the action now. 

“That’s the most American thing I’ve ever seen,” said Alexei, sounding weirdly proud smacking both of Bucky’s shoulders, still choosing to be right behind him instead of his right side which was completely empty. 

“I’m turning this feed off,” Bucky muttered. “I’d call HR if they weren’t the ones insisting they do this.” He scowled, watching in clear view of Walker moving one hand from your waist up your body and into your hair. 

“I’M RECORDING,” Yelena declared, moving the keyboard away from him. 

Val shrieked something about “fireable offenses” and “weddings get 30% off in DC if you use my name.” To the entire group seeing as to how everything for the actual mission was now at a complete standstill. 

And you? You pulled back just an inch, breath warm against John’s jaw, grinning like an idiot.

“That’ll sell it,” you whispered, not moving to push him back or anything to get away from him just staying put. 

He looked at you, expression unreadable.

“…Yeah,” he said after a second. “It will.”

Back at the safehouse, nobody let you live it down. Yelena and Ava brought popcorn to the debrief. Red Guardian reenacted the whole thing with sock puppets for your good friend Bob who could not go on the mission. Bucky tried to avoid any and all conversation or reenactments of the whole thing. Val sent a legal contract titled Thunderbolt Relationship Clause 4B: I Told You So.

And John?

He sat next to you on the old couch, legs spread wide, one arm behind your shoulders—casual, like nothing had changed. Except everything had. You can feel his warmth all of a sudden, you can’t stop thinking about how you could just curl up next to him and cuddle.. Or how you could get in his lap and start kissing him all over again the way he was sitting.  Instead you decided to move closer to him now you were touching side by side. Not saying a word he dropped one arm from behind the couch and sat it around your shoulders. 

“You know,” you murmured, voice low, almost shy, “we might need a... sequel. For the press.”

He turned, slow and deliberate, one brow ticking up. “You talking damage control?”

You shrugged, playing with your own hands, spinning the rings around your fingers as you spoke. “Public morale. National interest. You know. All that patriotic stuff.”

His mouth twitched, but not into a smirk—something softer, more thoughtful, like he was weighing the truth in your joke. Or the lie in it. He was staring at you, watching how just started curling into his side. The way your hands were so unsure of what to do or where to go. 

“We make a good headline,” he said finally, voice rough around the edges as he let out a little cough using the arm that was around your shoulders to dip down and wrap around your waist to pull you up closer to his face. 

You met his gaze, “Then maybe we should give ’em something to write about.”

And this time, when he kissed you, it wasn’t for show. No click of cameras. No orders in your ear. Just the press of his hand against your cheek, warm and certain. Your breath catching as he leaned in—slow, like he wanted you to stop him but knew you wouldn’t. Just the quiet hush of lips meeting, the kind of kiss that didn’t care who watched because no one was.

It was steadier than before. Realer. And when he pulled away, barely an inch, his forehead resting against yours, the world felt... quieter somehow.

Like the mission was done.

Like something else was just beginning.

(Kind of.)

[for-your-modesty-dude]

Valentine pt. 3

Part 1 … Part 2

A/N: Y'all I am so freaking sorry it's been so long. I literally showed up, started writing fics, and then disappeared forever. I'm not gonna lie, life has been absolutely insane recently. There's been so much going on, and my family is dealing with some stuff that is way far out of our control. Am I panicking? Maybe. Am I also fine? Yes. I don't know how it works. I'm sure my therapist plays a part in that LOL. Anyway, here it is. Part 3 of Valentine. I'm not going to lie to you, it really did not turn out nearly as good as I'd hoped. But I really really wanted to finish this so I could maybe get back into writing again. I need to fall in love with my hobbies again. I hope it's not too crappy. Please send in requests or fic suggestions. Maybe one of them will inspire me. I love you all forever! - Hy <3

Summary: Eddie finally makes his move!

Warnings: None that I can think of. Maybe some gross fluff, and like... subpar writing.

Word Count: 2k

Gareth and Jeff gave him the best advice they could. They tried, really. But they were hardly the romantic type, so Eddie took some of their advice- but the rest he let fly out the other ear. He eventually grabbed his backpack and ran out to his van, driving home as quickly as he could without getting himself another traffic ticket. 

He ran inside and threw his backpack onto the couch and kicked his boots off before sliding in his socks to his phone, picking it up and dialing your number. 

“Hello?” You picked up with a yawn, and Eddie wondered if he’d woken you up. 

“Heeey, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Did I wake you?”

“God no,” you tell him. “I was rereading the same page of this book for the fourth time. Can’t keep my focus, ‘m just bored. How was D&D? You’re home so early. Wait… Did you kill them?” You ask with a breathy laugh, imagining the night ending with Eddie decimating the party. 

“It was good! And- nah. The guys were restless, had places to be,” he lied, and there was a pause of comfortable silence. “But honestly, it was alright. Not the same without you there, don’t worry,” he smiled to himself. His kindness made your cheeks go pink. 

“Oh, please,” you scoffed with amusement evident in your voice. “Like you don’t love not having me around to bother your boys’ club,” you mostly joked. Eddie did not find it funny. 

“What? Don’t say that. We love having you around. You know that,” he said seriously. The seriousness of his tone made you smile. 

“Okay, okay, Ed. Thank you,” you tell him softly. “Gimme the rundown, then.”

He started to tell you all about how far they got in the campaign, having to make some stuff up to not give away how little they’d actually played. You seemed satisfied, and you believed him. “So… any fun plans tomorrow?” He asked. 

“Nah. Commiserating. Wanna join?” 

“I can come over?” He asked, hopeful. 

“Course you can. I’ll make room on the couch. I’ll even push aside the stale bag of chips for you to sit down next to me,” you joked. The two of you kept sharing jokes and silly comments until you got too sleepy to go on, so you hung up and headed to bed. 

The next morning, Eddie got up - way earlier than the Munson boy ever woke up on a Saturday - but he had so much to do. He first packed a duffel - necessary for his date, later - and then freshened up as much as he could. 

When he was finally ready, he dialed your number and chewed on his lip as he waited for you to pick up. 

“Mornin’,” you greeted, sleepy but awake. 

“Hey sweets, it’s me,” Eddie said, full of nervous energy. “We never decided on a time last night. Do you wanna hang now, or…?” He twirled the phone cable around his finger and back the other way. 

“Oh, that’s right. Honestly, now’s totally fine. I’m just finishing my coffee now. Wanna stop at the Family Video for us? I’ll pay you back when you get here.” You offered him. 

“I’ll stop by there, yeah. And no need, keep your cash, doll. I’ll see you soon, then!” He hung up before you could even respond, leaving you to laugh to yourself. He was so easily distracted. 

It gave you just enough time to prepare for his arrival - you changed into nicer sweats and actually styled your hair a little, fighting the urge to put on some makeup. This was just Eddie. You knew you wouldn’t make him fall in love with you with some mascara, not after he’d seen you at your worst so many times before. You just needed to accept that he was always going to remain a wonderful friend and nothing more. 

When Eddie showed up, he looked nicer than he usually did for movie dates at your place, but you didn’t think anything of it. You would just secretly admire him from across the room. Better him here with you than out with another girl, you supposed. 

The day started off normally enough. You had some snacks and watched a couple of movies, but Eddie seemed to keep checking his watch. Something about it was weird, because he didn’t seem in a rush to leave, but almost like he was expecting someone. It got to be too much when he checked his watch for the third time in less than 5 minutes, so you kicked him lightly with a socked foot from your side of the couch. 

“Why do you keep checking the clock, you weirdo? Did you invite someone to my house?” You ask with your nose slightly scrunched in displeasure. 

“What?” He blinked, “no- no. I wouldn’t- no. Uhh… you probably wanna go get ready, sweetheart,” he let his head fall back against the couch cushion lazily, making your brows furrow. 

“Get ready? For what?” You sat up, eyes searching his face which was- unfortunately unreadable. Damn DM instincts. 

“Do you trust me?” He turned his head to look at you, and something about his gaze in that moment made you blush, and you nodded. “Then go get ready. Wear somethin’ nice. I’m going to make use of the bathroom here. Let me know if you need any help,” he pushed himself up off of the couch and grabbed the duffel bag he’d packed himself, and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you to stare at him with a bewildered look. It took you a moment to shake off the surprise, but you managed to, and dragged yourself up the stairs to shower and get ready. You styled your hair in your usual favorite going-out style, not knowing just how dolled up you were supposed to get but figuring more was always better. You’d rather be overdressed than underdressed. 

And of course, because Eddie would see you in this outfit, you couldn’t help but to choose a dress you’d been secretly saving for just this kind of occasion. It fit like a glove, but you’d never actually gotten the opportunity to wear it out before. Wearing it now felt foreign, but looking at yourself in the mirror helped your self-image considerably. This dress looked good on you, and you hoped he’d think the same. 

You exited your bedroom to find Eddie’s duffel bag on your couch, and his ratty sneakers by your door, but… no Eddie. The bathroom door was open, showing it was empty, so you searched the kitchen before peeking through the blinds to the parking lot. You didn’t see Eddie’s van, but he’d left his things, so… he was probably coming back, right? You paced a bit in your heels, chewing on your lip as you considered all of the possibilities. 

Before you could decide to change out of your nice outfit, you heard a knock at the door, and hurried to answer it, finding Eddie standing there with a bouquet of black peonies and deep red tulips. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you blinked up at him, realizing he looked incredibly put together and handsome. You wanted to ask what he was doing, but as the blush reached your cheeks, you simply floundered for the words to say, and you stood there in an awkward sort of silence. 

“I uh- these are for you,” he cleared his throat and told you, wiping a clammy hand on his black jeans. You took another moment to flounder before taking the flowers and staring down at them. You eventually found your voice. 

“Oh. Thank- thank you,” you managed quietly, “what are these for?”

He ran a nervous hand through his hair and took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. It was now or never.. “Uh- well- see- you mentioned how upset you were to never have anyone interested in you, but… it’s just not true, you know? Cause I have been interested in you probably since we met, and you never seemed interested back. But I figure, even if you’re not into me, I can show you a good time and prove to you that it’s not true, and someone really does like you, like a lot. If- if you’ll be my valentine, that is. I spent so long hoping you’d just magically realize that I liked you, because the idea of actually telling you- almost killed me. I was terrified. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime, the person who knows me the best, and the one girl in the whole world who ever saw past my weird and gave me a chance to be her friend. This might be totally insane, but I just want you to know how- loved you are. By me. Romantically.” He felt he was digging himself into a hole, so he added an awkward “okay… I’m talking done now.”

You stared at him for a long while in stunned silence, and he looked anywhere but your eyes, growing increasingly restless as your silence swallowed him whole. He almost backed out and said it wasn’t actually that insane, he didn’t love you, don’t worry, but before he could, you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, wordless. He returned it with enthusiasm, squeezing you tight and burying his nose in your hair. He held you until he heard your quiet “thank you.” Only then did he pull back to look at you, your eyes a bit misty. 

“Hey, no way, don’t thank me. I’m the one who’s been in love with you, remember?” He joked, “if anything, thank you for letting me take you out and live out my dream for one night.” 

You could tell he was being self-deprecating, and couldn’t bear it. You pulled him inside, placed the bouquet on the nearest surface, and grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him down for a sudden kiss. He fumbled a moment, hands up in shock, before gripping your hips and pulling you into him, eyes squeezing shut as he deepened the kiss. If this was a dream, he wasn’t going to waste it. He was going to enjoy every goddamn second. 

Eventually, you pulled back with a breathless giggle at the way he chased your lips. “Let me breathe, Edward,” your voice was light, airy, and full of laughter. His eyes opened to watch you with the dreamiest expression. 

“Pinch me. I must be dreaming,” he said simply, making you laugh more. You pushed him away, cheeks red, still giggling. 

“Shut up. I- yes. Of course I’ll be your valentine. But where are we even going?” You asked him, picking up the bouquet to go put it in a vase. He still hadn’t shaken out of his trance, so he stared after you in silence a moment before coming to his senses again.

“Oh- uh- that’s a surprise. But you- damn- dressed for the occasion. So not to worry, it’ll be great.” He promised, following you into the kitchen and reaching up to grab the vase you liked from the higher shelf. You thanked him and unwrapped the bouquet, filling the vase before placing it into the water and placing the arrangement on your kitchen table. 

“I’ve been totally obsessed with you since, like, the day we met,” you confessed, which had his eyes nearly bulging. 

“No way. You- no way. You’re like, way out of my league.” That made you laugh, and you pulled him down for a kiss again. 

“Shut up, Eddie. And take me on our first date,” you hummed against his lips. 

“Yes ma’am,” he agreed breathlessly, pulling you flush against him. 

“And by the way, Eddie…” You started at a whisper. 

“Yeah?” He matched your tone.

“I didn’t ‘see past’ your weird. I saw your weird. And I needed it in my life.”

He nearly melted at your feet just then, but pushed forward to kiss you again, to keep from saying something stupid or embarrassing himself with getting emotional.

“I love you,” he told you. “I really, seriously, love you.”

“I- Eddie, I love you too,” you told him in return, butterflies erupting in your stomach and heart racing out of your chest before kissing him again.

You would definitely be a minute or two late to that reservation, but damn, if it wasn’t worth it.

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