#please remember; I can deny any request I don’t like!

[citricacidprince]

Fuuuuuuck I’ve been playing the Pikmin series a whole bunch and I wanna draw Pikmin stuff

Gimme Pikmin requests I wanna draw any of the silly guys so much pleaaaaaase

[cryptfile]

𖥨᩠ׄ݁ holy terrain!!!!!!, [ homelander x supe!reader ]

SUMMARY— based on a request aka when you arrive to vought’s tower covered in blood, you certainly don't expect to enjoy John’s comfort after feeling so numb.

WARNINGS — +18 minors dni, implied fem! reader, homelander is a warning himself, usual the boys content, mentions of murder, violence, reader matches homelander’s freak ngl, always wash your hands before fingering #PLEASE, blood kink at it's best, degradation (blink and you’ll miss it), dirty talk, porn without plot sort of?? lmao blame it on my hormones.

SIDE NOTES — hi there, this is a result of me going feral in this new season. English's not my first language, so please be kind, any mistake it's my own fault sorry in advance. Hate this mf but wont deny I wouldn't fuck him to calm him down. Please interact if you like this, reblogs, comments, likes, all means a lot to me!

The smell is under your nose.

At first it didn’t bother you to feel the warmth of it, you’re not disgusted by blood. But it’s everywhere. Fucking everywhere. Sticking in your face, staining your damn suit, pooling beneath your feet.

You can feel your own breathing, yet, you're numb to everything else. The screams of terror and the sudden silence of the killing are now something similar as a long-time-ago memory, a distant thought you cannot bring yourself to care about.

And when you came out of the elevator, you don't care about the other people looking at you either. The Vought personal that were always running in the floor, Ashley, or fucking Noir at the matter thinking you're Carrie or something, no one dares to talk to you even when you’re a mere sidekick, too afraid of your explosive personality to even demand to know what happened.

It's almost like you asked for it, to be left alone, to not deal with anyone but your own judgment.

So when you cross the hallway to your dormitory dreaming about a warm shower, you don't expect to see him inside, your relationship with Homelander being too sporadic to even catalog it as one. Yet he's there like it's his house, and you're too tired to even ask why he's there in the first place.

"There you are," he says, but you hear his voice like he's talking miles away from you instead of the couch where he really is. "Something was telling me you were having a rough day."

"Don't remember anything about inviting you to my room" he doesn't care about your tone as he walks closer to you, usually, when he speaks, he only seem to listen to himself. "Didn’t give you a key."

He's oblivious at your words, instead, he seems to be too lost in his own way of seeing things, just waiting for you to say something similar to what you’ve already said in his mind. To admit something like you missed him all day long, that you've been thinking about him as much as he's thinking about you, to fed his ego like only you can do after only a few times of sharing intimacy.

The air is thick, making it harder to breathe as he plants himself in front of you, blue eyes scanning your face as his fingers touched your hair, toying with the strands glued together with blood — Even if it’s gross, he don’t seemed moved by it, mainly, you think, because he’s been through the same too.

"Don't need a key to show up," he laughs like it's obvious, and you look at him like he's having a rougher time than you. "This is my building."

It's almost a reminder for you, that you're living under his roof and have a place on his team because he just wants to. Even when you always do the dirty job no one dares to do, if you save his ass more times you can count, he still remarks you’re living in his world.

“I know,” you fight the need to roll your eyes to the back of your head while responding. It’s something you remind yourself sometimes, how most of them are just plain stupid, always treating you like you were no better than fucking Deep.

The stink under your nose is annoying and your skin feels sticky at the touch so you’re almost begging for just ten minutes of privacy.

“I just missed you” he says in a low voice, almost ashamed of admitting something he would never even dare to say out loud, a sudden verge of vulnerability, strange raw honesty as he looks at you. “Didn’t you miss me too?”

You know the only way of really control him, how to make him do exactly what you want to do, so you let him. Let him act all needy and weird cause you want John wrapped around your finger, unable to think on his own. You want him to believe, whole-heartedly, that in the end he’s the one coming up with the great ideas when it's you every single time.

You don’t find it cruel, he’s the same with you and he deserves it, so when Homelander bites his middle finger to grab the fabric of his gloves and pull it off, you let him touch you, treat you like this lost-dove-in-trouble he loves to see — “Had an awful day. Just wanted to see you,” like that. The correct combination of words and he looks like he got fucking shot by a celestial force, mesmerized. “Always missing you, babe.”

He’s sold by the moment, that tone you use, that little nickname that gets him, the sound of your heartbeat slightly faster than before, not enough to catch you lying, but enough to show you’re indeed, happy to see him as well.

He's pleased, so the next is unexpected to say the least, and you hate every second of it when he carries you like you two are married or something similar, sitting in the sofa with you on his lap.

“What are you-”

He shushes you, and you cannot finish what you’re saying when he pulls you to his chest, the fabric of his suit against your cheek as he, weirdly enough, hugged you close, the sound of his heartbeat instead, loud against your ear as you can feel him breathing beneath you, an steady rhythm as the silence filled the room. It's weird sometimes, to think he's human as well before the compound V.

“Comforting you,” he says in a low voice. His bare hand now grabbing your tight enough to bury his fingers in the covered skin, squeezing it lightly as first, nothing you cannot control. And it's beyond doubt what he truly wants, the way his nose inhales the scent of your body like it's fuel, the blood mixing with your fragrance — "M' here now."

He likes it almost more than his own smell. Almost is the key, cause he cannot help but wish you'd stink like him after waking up next to him that very same day. The thought wakes something new in the alleged superhero, something that stings in his stomach, plaguing his mind with the thought of getting all that he wants, to mark you as his property as he has done before.

He cannot get enough. Of course he can't, he's used to have it all now, to never ask but take. That's why he bites your shoulder, why he didn't mind getting his hands dirty with you and your sticky suit, why he's not grossed out by anything, but instead, turned on by how much you needed him.

But in reality it's the other way around, cause Homelander's the one that pulls you closer, that kisses you like you're something heavenly, just like he is. He's not gentle, yet he knows you like it that way, that you're into that rough force he's used to and would kill any normal person in result.

"Who let you go on that mission on your own, huh?" He asks, concentrated in your suit, pulling it down slightly just to reveal the naked skin under the fabric, clean skin in contrast of all the red. "Seems like they all forgot we're supposed to work together."

You don't get why it feels so nice at first, why the hand on your hip moves through your body like you need some kind of reassurance after all you went through the day.

"I'm okay" you manage to say, the pure need to remind him you're good enough to make things on your own, some kind of memo that explains clearly that you want the same benefits he has. It's useless however, when he has you like that, making you tilt your head to the side, placing random bites in any sight of exposed flesh.

"You're hurt" he says, making you aware of your own body as he presses one hand against the injury on the side of your ribs. He's fucking sick for it, and it doesn't give you any time to react when his fingertips are pushing against the cut, your suit staining with your own blood as you mewl on top of him. "Clearly hurt."

He's drunk on depravity, lost on the face you make when the pain hits you all sudden, stealing the air from your lungs. He's suddenly hard beneath you and his hand's now rest on your hip making you move on top of him, hungry for anything he can get out of you, any little sound you make so focused on keeping quiet, trying so hard to not to fed on his bullshit.

The friction is unbearable, the fresh blood coming out of your now-opened wound, the slight force he uses to tear your suit apart like its nothing, giving him more space to work with as he seemed desperate to have you close. It takes you far from where you were first, the numb feeling that grew like a parasite your stomach swallowing it all, now instead, too sensitive to his touch.

Yes. You hate him for it, hate that it's too easy for him, the traumatized hero with too many issues, the world's strongest man that somehow manages to make a mess out of you just with something so simple as sitting on his lap.

He's so pleased when you moan, when you say his name and you forgot about mannerisms, he needs to pull out his other glove in response as his blonde hair falls over his face, throwing it to the floor as his bare hand is now able to rip apart your suit effortless. The warmth of his palm cups your now bare breast for him, and he leans into your chest, tongue flickering in circles over your nipple as you let out a strangled moan.

"Common, need you to use your words here," he demands for a moment, almost annoyed as you can see the traces of saliva that connected you to his mouth: Why does he look so good? Fucker. "Cause if you don’t stop me now I’ll reduce your suit to ashes.”

“Don’t care,” you know Ashley’s going to be pissed, yet it's not enough to say anything about it. "Fucking hate the suit anyway."

"Such a dirty mouth" you're tugging his hair, hand on your kneecap pulling it slightly to the side as he forces you to open your legs for him. "What can I do with you?"

There it is, the ripped sound of his hands tearing the rest of the fabric apart, the pliable desperation in his touch, grabbing, kissing, and palming the curves of your body as it's holy terrain, unstudied land. He's caught in the smell of your skin finally mixing with his, the way your hips grinded in need for a deeper contact.

He laughs at you, laughs at that sight of defeat when he finally slides the hand that was on your knee under the ripped leavings of your now-destroyed suit. Of course he fucking loves the way you're speechless all thanks to his efforts, that you're unable to keep still as you straddle him now confident he's not repulsed by your dirty nature.

"Did you get turned on by killing?" He asks, and you try to respond something like he's clearly dumb. "Been smelling you since you've got here. All wet, covered in blood."

He's far from lazering you, but you can feel the weight of his gaze almost trespassing you when his hand finally reaches that nice spot between your legs and feels your drenched underwear beneath his fingertips. He can feel it all, and you are aware of it.

He's driven by the sounds of your heartbeat, the way your skin glimmers with sweat, he knows you're enjoying every second of it, his fingertips fondling on top of the cloth moments before pulling it to side. The warm contact with your cunt is enough to make him lose it, enough to make him succumb beneath you as he explores the folds of your aching core, his other hand holding your hip just to keep you in place.

John seems to forget, always does. Cause his grip turns beyond bruising and you can hear the crack when he moves you against his hand, a new broken bone to added to the list as he's unaware to the sound it produces, the pain that makes you shake violently blending immediately with pleasure.

You can take it. You're tough and a big girl who's taken worse, so you don't whine about it knowing you must be healing already, instead, you let yourself be trapped in that haze he created, the sounds of your sex when he hits that very spot you overly-enjoy, digits slightly curving inside as he’s experiencing the velvety feeling of your walls colliding against his hand.

"That's it, keep the show for me.” He loves praising so much since you told him he’s doing good one time, he needs to do the same for you at the first chance he got while you offered yourself to him, riding his fingers. “Such a good slut.”

He’s concentrated in the way his fingers disappear inside of you, the intense smell of blood and sex that now fills the air as you moan out his name, the red droplets in your face much like freckles, far more wicked than pure marks on your skin.

“So nice, so warm,” he says to himself, the slick sound of your arousal filling the room, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your chest as he marks your skin like you’re all his.

He’s sure he’s alleviating your problems, sure he’s making you feel so much better, thumb tracing circles in your swollen bud as he stole cries of pleasure from your parted lips.

You don’t let him know you’re close but he can sense it, the slight change in your breathing each time more erratic, your heartbeats quickening their pace as you got closer to the edge.

And when you really finish, when you’re done riding your high, you grab the remains of your teared suit and look at him with that damn smile he loves. You know he’s expecting to receive anything back, any favor you’re willing to give in return.

But instead, when you got off his lap, you just caress his cheek gently before saying — “See you later, John? Kind of busy now.”

my masterlist

[writeriguess]

Bakugou x female reader please. You have a hard crush on him and he overhears you talking about your feelings to someone else.

You were in the common room of the dorms, chatting with your close friend, Mina. It was late, and most of your classmates were either out or in their rooms, so you thought it was a safe time to talk about something that had been weighing on your mind for a while.

“So… are you ever going to tell him?” Mina asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

You hesitated, your heart pounding at the thought. “I don’t know, Mina. He’s… Bakugou, you know? He’s so intense and strong, and he probably doesn’t even think of me like that. He’s always so focused on becoming the best hero.”

Mina giggled. “Yeah, he’s pretty stubborn, but he’s not that clueless. You should just tell him. Who knows, maybe he feels the same way?”

You let out a sigh, feeling the weight of your unspoken feelings. “I just… I like him so much, Mina. He’s amazing, even if he is a bit rough around the edges. But what if he rejects me? I don’t think I could handle it.”

As you poured your heart out, you didn’t notice the presence lurking just outside the room. Bakugou had been on his way to the kitchen when he heard his name mentioned, and now he was frozen, listening intently to your words. His usual scowl softened as he absorbed the confession, a strange feeling settling in his chest.

He clenched his fists, trying to process what he was hearing. She likes me? The thought was almost too much for him to handle. He never really considered that you could have feelings for him. Sure, you were close, but he thought you were just friendly because that’s how you were with everyone.

Without thinking, he barged into the room, startling both you and Mina.

“Oi,” he growled, his voice a bit rougher than usual as he tried to mask his nerves. “You got something to say to me, (Y/N)?”

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes widening as you realized what had happened. He heard me. Panic and embarrassment surged through you, but before you could come up with an excuse or deny it, Mina gave you an encouraging nod.

Taking a deep breath, you stood up, facing Bakugou directly. “Y-Yeah, I do.”

He crossed his arms, trying to look unimpressed, but the way his eyes softened betrayed him. “Well? Spit it out.”

You swallowed hard, feeling like the words were stuck in your throat. But then you remembered all the times Bakugou had shown his softer side, even if it was rare, and how much you admired him for his determination and strength. That gave you the courage you needed.

“I… I really like you, Bakugou,” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly. “I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. I just… I think you’re incredible, and I wanted you to know.”

There was a tense silence, the air thick with anticipation. Bakugou’s expression was unreadable, his usual fiery demeanor replaced by something more contemplative.

Finally, he let out a huff, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Tch, you’re such an idiot,” he muttered, but there was no venom in his words. “But… you’re not wrong about one thing. I’m not great with this kinda stuff, but… you’re not bad either, ya know?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait… are you saying—?”

“Don’t make me say it, dumbass,” Bakugou snapped, his face turning a shade of pink as he avoided your gaze. “Just… maybe we can figure this out together. But if you tell anyone I went soft, I’ll blast you to pieces, got it?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in the room dissolving. “Got it,” you replied with a grin. “Thanks, Bakugou.”

“Tch, whatever. Just… don’t make a big deal out of this,” he grumbled, but the small smile tugging at his lips didn’t go unnoticed.

As he turned to leave, Mina gave you a thumbs-up, her eyes twinkling with excitement. You felt like you were walking on air, your heart swelling with happiness. Maybe confessing your feelings wasn’t as scary as you thought.

Requests are open.

[igotanidea]

Stretching time: Dick Grayson x reader

Request: I can't stop thinking about how would be Dick's girlfriend with all the batboys, specially Damian, maybe reader and Damian would be like best friends and he's always at Dick's apartment to see her. I would love to see how do you think this would be <3

***

“I swear this is like he doesn’t have a Manor to live in” Dick sighed theatrically, taking a sip of his drink, which happened to be the most colorful one on the menu.

“I suppose we are talking about Damian today?” Wally, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed, casually popping chips into his mouth.

“He’s just always at our place! And Y/N—” Dick shook his head, unable to finish the sentence. Y/N. His wonderful, beautiful, smart girlfriend with a heart of gold, making friends wherever she went. Too good for his world, stubborn and consistent in breaking Damian’s defenses. And while at first, Dick even encouraged her in her attempts, treating it like a dare, knowing she’ll never succeed, now he was getting angry because she actually reached her objective. Becoming bffs with Damian Wayne. Well – as much as an assassin and a vigilante’s girlfriend can be.

“Please don’t tell me you are jealous of a 12 year old, Grayson!” Wally laughed so hard she choked on his snack.

“You crazy? Jealous? Me? Never!”

“Yeah, right. Never-” the speedster laughed again, silently calling Dick off on the bullshit he was trying to feed him with.

“Look man, it’s not like you have an entire family that steals your girlfriend away from you!”

“Well, I wouldn’t let them in the first place—”

“You’re not helping!”

“Would it help If I point out how much of a hypocrite you are, Dick?”

“No! Wait- what? A hypocrite?” Dick raised his head from the table where he previously laid it to accentuate the drama of the situation. And then frowned. And then tilted his head to the side. “Hypocrite, seriously, Wally?”

“You keep talking how Y/N has too soft heart while you are the proverbial older brother always trying to please his siblings-“

“That’s not true!” Dick’s objection was almost immediately cut by Wally’s mocking gaze, almost threatening to use all the examples of the thesis he had in store “Okay, fine! Fine! But those are my brothers, what am I supposed to do?!”

“For starters, maybe you shouldn’t run away to the bar every time Damian comes around?”

“But-“

“Get freaking involved! Your girlfriend is having a good relationship with your siblings. That’s terrible news, truly, I pity you.” Wally mocked, rolling his eyes.

“You just don’t seem to understand! Let me tell you the whole story again—”

“Oh, no, please, spare me going through it all over—”

“It all started a week ago-“

“From what I remember one week ago she went to some kind of reading with Jason?”

“Yes! And from then everyone just started to drive her away!”

“You’re overreacting-“

“Overreacting?! Do you want to listen how she keeps on working with Tim and –”

“NO!”

“Let me tell you then-“

“Whoa! Stop! You know what I think, Dick? I think you should go home and actually talk to her, instead of me.”

“So now you’re abandoning me too?!”

“Abandoning? Oh no, no, no. I’ll be even as kind as to drop you home.”

“What are you- NO!”

He really hated traveling with speedsters. There was never any comfortable position for that, and after he always felt like throwing up.

But there was no denying that it was the fastest way home, even if climbing up the stars turned into a little bit of a challenge for the Nightwing.

***

Obviously, Damian was there with her.

Not really doing anything, just sitting on the couch, staring into space, having one of his moments of vulnerability that took the form of keeping complete silence.

And that silence was not Dick’s ally cause it made them both hear him coming inside.

“I thought you were out with Wally?” Y/N smiled and raised from the spot to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“West?” Damian turned his head in curiosity

“Well hello to you too, Damian. What brings you here today?” Dick hissed, before biting his tongue, earning a little pat on the back of the head from Y/N.”

“Ouch! That hurt. More my feelings than my head, but still.”

“Good. Dami is our guest and—”

“He’s becoming more of a permanent fixture…”

“Dick!”

“Ugh!”

“Should we take this conversation private?” she muttered, frowning and putting hands on her hips. “Or can you go back to being the Dick Grayson I know? The one who can keep his heart and mind open? Please?” She gave him a soft look and a pretty smile. “Come on, it will be fun…”

How could he say no to those eyes…

***

An hour later he started to think that maybe Wally was right. And that maybe his girlfriend was a sorceress.

Otherwise, how else could anyone explain the sudden Damian’s transition from an assassin into a 12 year old almost kid?

He was just talking to her about everything. His school, his friends, his latest picture. Not the emotions, it was not that advanced kind of magic, but just watching those two, feeling so at ease with each other was something supernatural.

And at some point, Damian just gave Y/N a look and she immediately knew what it meant, turning to Dick who was observing them both from a safe distance, amused by the little bubble Damian and Y/N seemed to create around themselves and a little scared to disrupt their peace.

“Hey, dick? Can you leave us for a moment? We got something to discuss with Damian.”

“And I have to go?”

Damian scoffed under his nose as if it wasn’t obvious that he wasn’t going to talk about anything personal with his brother around.  

“Pretty please?” Y/N smiled at her boyfriend, leaving Dick no choice but to retrieve to the bedroom.

“So, what’s been eating my favorite bat up?”

“Y/n…’ Damian sighed, allowing himself a little bit of emotionality “do you think I could ever have what you and Dick do?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, don’t push it.”

“If you are talking about girls—” she started and her words were disrupted by a hiss from the boy, who was clearly dissatisfied she actually dared to say it out loud “you’re only 12 Damian. And as much as you hate to let it show, people can tell that you care. In your own twisted way, but if someone watches close enough it’s clear. So I don’t think there’s any reason for you to get uptight about it.”

“I’m not uptight!” he crossed arms over his chest defensively.

“Look, I know your mother and Bruce may have showed you only one way to look at the world but –”

“You are not my parents to raise me, Y/L/N.”

“Thank god! I wouldn’t know how to handle you if you were my kid!” she laughed “But you know what, that’s even better. Cause you can freely twist my words and adjust whatever I say to your own perception. And I have no way to discipline or punish you.”

“So you won’t be leaving me if I don’t live up to the standard?” he asked quietly.

“What? Leaving you? No way!” If it was anyone else she would probably hug him then, but considering it was still Damian Wayne a little playful hair ruffle had to suffice. “Haven’t I told you you’re my favorite? Don’t tell Dick but – “ she made a dramatic pause and raised her voice to make sure her boyfriend heard “I THINK I LIKE YOU MORE THAN DICK!”

“I heard that!” something hit the wall separating bedroom and living room, causing both Damian and Y/N to chuckle.

“You make sure to remember it too, Grayson!”

“I hate you both!” Dick yelled from the wall, but it was obvious he was playing around, acting all goofy to make his girl and brother laugh.

And it seemed like a lot of weight was taken from Damian’s shoulders just because of hearing he wasn;t going to end up alone just because he wasn’t perfect sometimes.  

“I should probably get going. Father will –”

“Stay.” Y/N cut him off. “I’ll take care of Bruce. God forbid that man let you have a little rest.”

***

Damian fell asleep on the couch after two servings of ice cream and a multiple rounds of Man don’t get upset. At some point Dick joined them and the evening turned into one giant bonding exercise, interrupted by threats of murder with particular cruelty against Grayson if he ever let off steam about Damian's softer side.

But then, he was dozing off like a little lamb, looking completely harmless and innocent, while Y/N made sure to cover him with a blanket.

“Y/N, can’t you see what that little prick is doing?” Dick appeared behind her, out of nowhere, dragging her to the kitchen to have a little conversation.

“Planning world domination?” She tease with a hint of a smile.

“Yeah, that probably too.” Dick shook his head in amusement “but in this case, he’s taking all of your time and I have to live on scraps of attention.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I don’t like it…”

“I’m training you for the time when our kids appear in the world.”

“K-kids?” his gaze immediately traveled to her belly, judging whether she was being serious, going a little pale. Was he even ready for that? Why didn’t she tell him sooner, there were so many things to be planned and bought and—

“Hey, hey, relax” Her hands rested on his cheeks, forcing his eyes back on hers. “Not now. And not any time soon. But hopefully one day we will have kids. And then what? You’ll be jealous of them too?”

“This is not the same….”

“Maybe. But you can either learn how to share me or get mad and lose me. Which one would you rather?”

“Neither.” He held her tighter, pulling closer to his chest. “You’re all mine.”

“Still- gotta – breathe” the strained voice coming from her was enough proof he was squeezing her too tight. Like a rubber frog whose eyes pop if you press on the right spot.

Dick sighed and released the grip slightly, trying to say something more, but she didn’t let him.

“I can stretch my time for people that are important. And last time I checked, you were still on top of that list. It’s not going to change because I decided to become a mentor to your brother.”

“More like a psychologist.”

“Richard Grayson!”

“What?”

“You keep helping people left and right and it’s not like I have tons of your time either. So you are a hypocrite.”

“That's the second time today I’m being called that.”

“I always knew Wally was smarter than people gave him credit for.” She chuckled “now. It’s barely midnight, quite early for us, so would you like to spend some quality time together?”

“If that’s your attempt at stretching the time then yes,  I’d love it.”

[virgoilluminati]

can u please write a jude fic where your in a talking stage and he comes over and you both make out for the first time 🤭

It's been a long time coming...

A/N: this is my first request in absolutely ages so tysm you have made my day ✨❣️ As I am now unemployed (😜✌️) i have a lot of free time before i head back to university. So please if anyone has any ideas lmk 🥹

Inspo: Jude and You have been close friends since high school, but after one very drunken night, you admit your feelings for him, right before he leaves for the euro's. When Jude arrives home, he has only one goal, to give you that kiss that you've been waiting for.

Oh, you had royally fucked up.

So royally fucked up that you probably shouldn’t leave the house for at least the next two days, perhaps a week, even a month.

You’d told your best friend that you liked him, in a sweaty club, the night before he was going to the Euros. With the drink loosening your tongue, you blurted it out without thinking. The look on his face said it all; he was stunned into silence.

You and Jude had known each other since high school. He was in the year above you, but you both shared a huge interest in football. While he played for the boys’ squad, you played for the girls’. You got really close in the last year of high school as he began prepping for the under-21s football team while you were preparing for university. You became each other’s anchor, someone you both could rely on, no matter how tough it got. You told each other absolutely everything. So when you blurted out that you liked him, it was as if you had shattered an unspoken rule.

You had been drunk. That was the justification you were giving. You didn’t know what you were thinking; you couldn’t control what was going through your head. You couldn’t face him, not now. The memory of his expression replayed in your mind, a painful reminder.

You had sent him one text message, mentioning nothing about the incident, just wishing him luck in the Euros. Maybe he’d just forget it even happened. After all, he was pretty drunk too.

You had spent all morning preoccupying yourself with your uni work, taking the dog out for a walk, cleaning your room… basically anything to distract from the impending apocalypse. But it was pointless; every other second, you would check the blue tick on the message, with a simple “read” underneath it.

Hey, I hope the head isn’t too sore from last night ahaha. Best of luck in the Euros, I’ll be screaming your name at the local, love ya. (Read)

His response came about three hours later. In that time, you had gone through all five stages of grief. First, Denial: you denied that you even told him, that it was a huge mistake. Anger: you were angry that no one stopped you, as it was an open secret between all of your friends but him, but they had let you blurt it out. Bargaining: maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you know. You could just say it was a mistake or you didn’t remember. Depression: this would be the end of your friendship—that he’d no longer look at you the same way ever again. Acceptance: your life was doomed, and that was the end of it. However, when his response came, you hadn’t actually prepared yourself.

Yeah, my head’s fine ahaha, though I think you drank more than me in the end. Currently on the way to the airport, Trent says hi. Pretty nervous about the Euros, I can’t lie.

You sat there staring at the three dots, wondering what else he was thinking. You cringed at him mentioning your drunkenness. He not only knew but he must’ve remembered. Oh god, this was going to be awkward.

You didn’t respond, noticing the frequent three dots on his screen going rapidly on and off. Sighing, you attempted to make a joke, quickly sending back a response.

I’m sure Trent is feeling it right now ahaha, how many shots did he have last night again? Don’t be nervous, you’ll be ace!

His reply came almost instantly.

Enough to need a new liver, I’m sure. Thanks for the vote of confidence. We’re about to board, talk later?

You couldn’t help but feel relieved. He wasn’t addressing your confession at all. Maybe he really had chosen to forget about it. Or perhaps he was giving you a way out, a chance to pretend it never happened. Either way, you seized the opportunity.

Sure, have a safe flight! Catch you later.

With that, you put your phone down and took a deep breath. Maybe this wouldn’t ruin everything after all. For now, you’d focus on the positives: Jude was still talking to you, and you still had your friendship, even if it was a little shaken.

The next couple of days were a whirlwind of activity. Jude was swamped with training and media commitments, so your interactions were mostly confined to texts. Despite the busyness, he made sure to check in frequently, sending you updates and little messages that kept the connection alive.

After the Slovakia game, which they won in a nail-biting finish, you received a call from Jude. You could hear the adrenaline in his voice, the excitement of the victory still fresh.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathless. “Did you see the game?”

“Of course I did! You were amazing! That last-minute goal!" you replied, unable to hide the pride in your voice.

“Thanks. It felt good out there tonight. The fans were crazy. Nearly thought we were goners—"

"Nah, I knew you'd pull through."

"Really?" His voice sounded hopeful, as if he had more to say, but instead, he coughed and continued talking. "Uh, listen, there is something I need to talk to you about.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Okay, what’s up?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said."

"What I said? When?" you responded, your heart beating faster by the minute.

"The night before I went, about you liking me. I thought I could just put it aside and focus on the tournament, but… I can’t.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jude…”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel. And the truth is, I like you too."

Tears pricked at your eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. I hope you don't mind, but I told Dec and Trent, and after they completely humbled me, they made me realize—I think I've always had a bit of a thing for you. It’s just… I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“You won’t,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time.”

There was a moment of silence, then Jude let out a breath. “Okay. One step at a time. I like the sound of that.”

For the rest of the night, you talked about everything and nothing, letting the conversation flow naturally. The tension from the confession began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and excitement.

The next game was against Switzerland, and you decided to go out to the pub to watch it with a couple of your pals. The place was buzzing with excitement, filled with fans donning jerseys and scarves, and the energy was infectious. As the match began, you found yourself nervously scanning the screen for Jude, your eyes automatically seeking him out every few seconds.

Your friends, of course, noticed.

“Honestly, if you stare any harder, you might burn a hole through the screen,” teased Sarah, nudging you playfully.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks. “I’m just… making sure he’s doing okay.”

“Sure, just making sure,” Mark chimed in with a grin. “We all know you’re head over heels.”

“Guys, can we please just focus on the game?” you said, though you couldn’t help but smile.

As the match progressed, every time Jude touched the ball, your heart seemed to leap into your throat. You could hear your friends’ comments in the background, teasing you about how intently you were watching him.

“There he is again, Y/N! Are you taking notes on his every move?” Sarah laughed.

“Come on, give her a break. She’s just a supportive friend,” Mark added, though his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

You tried to ignore them, but the truth was, they weren’t entirely wrong. You were more invested in Jude’s performance than anything else. When he made a particularly brilliant pass, you couldn’t help but cheer louder than anyone else.

“Wow, you’ve got it bad,” Sarah remarked, shaking her head in amusement.

The game was intense, with both teams playing aggressively. Jude was in top form, making crucial plays and demonstrating why he was such an asset to the team. As the game neared its end, with the score tied, the tension in the pub was palpable.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude.

Jude: Gaffer gave us 5 minutes, couldn't wait any longer to not text you.

You: What are you doing?! You're supposed to be on the pitch.

Jude: I think this is going to penalties, I feel it.

You quickly typed back, trying to infuse your message with as much confidence as you could muster.

You: Don’t worry, you’ve got this. I believe in you.

There was a brief pause before his next message came through.

Jude: Listen, how about this: if we win, I’ll take you out on a date.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at the screen, rereading his words. A date. With Jude. Your heart was racing now for an entirely different reason.

You: Deal.

The penalties were agonizing to watch. Each kick, each save, each miss, had the entire pub reacting in unison—groans of despair, cheers of relief, gasps of anticipation. You were barely breathing, your eyes fixed on the screen as if willing the ball into the net with sheer force of will.

Jude stepped up to take his shot. The pub fell silent. You could almost hear your own heartbeat. He took a deep breath, ran up, and kicked. The ball sailed past the goalkeeper and into the net. The pub erupted in cheers, and you jumped up, your shout of triumph mingling with everyone else’s.

The penalties continued, and finally, it came down to Trent. The pressure was immense. If he scored, England would win.

The pub fell silent again as Trent prepared for his shot. You could feel the tension in the air, your heart pounding louder than ever. He took his position, focused, ran up, and kicked. The ball flew towards the goal, past the goalkeeper, and hit the back of the net.

The pub exploded in cheers. People were hugging, high-fiving, and celebrating. You couldn’t believe it. They had done it.

Your phone buzzed again.

Jude: We did it! Can’t believe it. Guess I owe you that date ;)

You couldn’t stop smiling, your heart soaring with pride and excitement.

You: You were amazing! We're so proud!! I can't wait x

Jude: Trust me, I’m looking forward to it. See you soon, Y/N.

You spent the rest of the night celebrating with your friends, the victory and Jude’s promise keeping your spirits high. Amidst all the revelry, one thing was clear: your relationship with Jude was about to take a new and thrilling turn.

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions and excitement. Jude’s team had just secured a 2-1 victory against the Netherlands. The pub you were in was filled with joyous celebration and raucous cheers. You knew Jude would be over the moon, and you couldn’t wait to hear from him.

Soon enough, your phone rang with an incoming call from Jude. You stepped outside, away from the pub’s noise, to answer.

“Hey, Jude!” you answered, your voice bright with excitement. “Congrats on the win!”

“Y/N!” Jude’s voice was noticeably slurred, and you could hear the background noise of a lively celebration. “I can’t believe we did it! We actually won!”

“I know, it was amazing!” you said, smiling. “You were incredible out there.”

“Thanks!” Jude’s words were slightly jumbled. “I’m just so… so buzzed right now! Remember when we were kids and we’d dream about moments like this? It’s really happening!”

“I know, it’s like a dream come true,” you said warmly.

“And you were always… so pretty, you know? I never really understood why you’d hang out with me,” he continued, his voice full of affection. “Everyone loved you, and I was just this goofy football guy.”

You felt a blush rising. “Jude, it didn’t matter. We had so much fun together.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “I always thought… thought you were too good for me. I was just this guy with a big dream, and you were this amazing person who could have been anywhere.”

“Well, I was where I wanted to be,” you said softly. “With you.”

Jude’s voice grew more tender. “I’ve always admired you, Y/N. Even back then, I was captivated by you. The way you carried yourself, the way you looked—it was like you had this light that drew me in. I was always amazed by how stunning you were, both inside and out.”

You could hear Bukayo’s voice faintly in the background. “Jude, mate, turn the phone off. You're pissed-"

Jude chuckled, though his tone remained affectionate. “I can’t help it, Bukayo! Y/N, you have no idea how incredible you are. I mean, just thinking about you—how beautiful you looked back then and how stunning you still are—drives me crazy.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Jude, you’re making me blush.”

“I’m just speaking the truth,” he said earnestly. “You’ve always been this amazing person, and I’ve been lucky to have you as a friend and now… maybe something more.”

You felt a warm flutter in your chest. “I’m really glad we’re sharing these moments together. It means a lot to me.”

Jude’s voice grew more serious, though still a bit tipsy. “If we keep winning, I want to make sure we celebrate together. I can’t imagine doing it without you.”

“I’d love that,” you said, smiling. “For now, enjoy the celebration. You’ve earned it.”

Jude’s laughter was warm and content. “Alright, I’ll let you go. But I’ll call you again soon, okay?”

“Sure thing. Enjoy the rest of your night, Jude,” you said.

As you ended the call, you couldn’t help but smile. Jude’s heartfelt, tipsy confessions and the sound of his celebration had deepened your connection, making you realize just how much you both meant to each other. The future felt full of promise, and you were excited to see where this new chapter would lead.

When England lost 2-1 to Spain, the crushing disappointment was felt by everyone, especially Jude. As he and the team made their way back, he couldn't shake the feeling of defeat.

You, back home, had been anxiously awaiting any word from him. After a few hours, you decided to check in, hoping he was doing okay.

You: Hey Jude, are you alright? Just wanted to check in.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude. The text was brief, but the words were heavy with the weight of the loss.

Jude: Not great, honestly. It's been a rough night.

You felt a pang of sadness reading his message.

You could picture him, lost in thought, longing for comfort.

You: I'm so sorry, Jude. I wish I could be there with you too. You wanna hang out tomorrow? Watch a crappy horror movie and crash on my sofa?

The reply came back quickly.

Jude: Sure. I could use a little cheer up. I'd better go, journalists want a chat before we board.

You stared at the phone, hoping your words brought him some measure of comfort. You knew how much this loss meant to him, and how hard he had worked for this moment. The idea of him being alone in his thoughts broke your heart a little more.

You wanted to do something special for him, something that would show him just how much you cared. An idea started to form in your mind, and you sprang into action.

First, you pulled out his favorite hoodie from the closet. It was slightly oversized on you, but it felt like a warm hug. You wore it while you tidied up the apartment, making sure everything was perfect for when he got home.

Then, you went into the kitchen to start cooking his favorite meal. The process was therapeutic, each stir of the pot a way to channel your nervous energy. As the aromas filled the room, you felt a little more at peace, knowing that you were doing something to help him, even from afar.

As the hours ticked by, you kept checking your phone, hoping for any update on his flight. Finally, a message popped up.

Jude: Just landed. See you soon

Your heart skipped a beat. You quickly finished setting the table, dimming the lights to create a cozy atmosphere. You lit a few candles, their soft glow adding a touch of warmth to the room.

When you heard the key in the lock, you rushed to the door, your heart pounding with anticipation. As the door opened, there he was, looking exhausted but so incredibly relieved to see you.

Without a word, he dropped his bags and pulled you into a tight embrace. You held him close, feeling the tension slowly drain from his body as he buried his face in your neck.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I missed you too, Jude," you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair. "I'm so glad you're home."

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with gratitude. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you."

You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. "Come on, I made your favorite dinner. Let's sit down and talk about everything."

Later on, after you had let him get everything off his chest, you decided to watch a movie, something that would probably become background noise. As the movie played, you and Jude sat side by side on the couch, the tension between you that seemed to dance in time with the flickering images. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, and every time your arms or legs brushed, a jolt of electricity shot through you.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

He was staring at the screen, but you could tell his mind was elsewhere. The furrow in his brow, the way his jaw tightened, the constant fidgeting-he was still wrestling with the aftermath of the game.

You wished there was something you could do to ease his mind.

As if sensing your thoughts, he turned to you, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry I've been a grumpy sod."

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. "No, don't be. I'm your friend!" You smirk a little as you made eye contact with him for the first time that night. "I'm just glad you're here."

The movie continued, but the air between you grew thicker with unspoken words and emotions.

"Listen. About what I said-"

"We don't have too-"

"No we should! Because, i know I've been swept up with all of the euro's but- I meant what i said. I like you."

"I like you too."

You could feel his gaze lingering on you more frequently, and each time you met his eyes, it was like a silent conversation passed between you.

"Do you remember the last time we watched a movie together?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, you fell asleep halfway through."

He grinned, the first genuine smile you'd seen from him all night. "I was exhausted. You have a way of making me feel very relaxed. Always have done."

"It's a very good thing," he replied, his voice low.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his eyes. The movie, now a distant background noise, was all but forgotten. The distance between you seemed to shrink with each passing second.

"Jude..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. "I-." His eyes looked up and down at your lips as you settled into his embrace. He looks for any uncertainty before he continues.

"You make me feel seen. Like I can't hide anything from you. It's scary really-"

"Is that so-" you smile, your eyes casting over his lips.

"Mhmm. You make me such a good person-"

"Jude, just kiss me already." You laugh. He smiles instinctively,

He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. "Can I...?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to form a coherent response.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. The world seemed to hold its breath as your lips finally met in a soft, tentative kiss.

It was like a spark igniting a fire, the kiss quickly deepening with a hunger that had been building all night. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more intense.

You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed against him, the kiss growing more intense. His lips were insistent, exploring yours with a desperate need. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, mirroring your own racing pulse.

Jude's hands roamed, tracing the curve of your back, sending shivers down your spine. Your skin felt electrified wherever he touched, each caress igniting a new wave of desire. You gasped as his lips left yours, trailing hot kisses down your neck, nibbling and sucking gently at the sensitive skin.

"Jude," you moaned softly, your fingers tightening in his hair. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your throat as he continued his exploration, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back.

Your breath hitched when his lips found the hollow of your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You arched into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable, a consuming fire that threatened to engulf you both.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for breath, you looked into his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Do you know how long l've wanted to do that?" you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and desire.

Jude chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.

"Probably as long as I have," he replied, his breath warm against your lips.

You both knew this was just the beginning, but for now, the world outside could wait. All that mattered was the two of you, tangled in each other's arms, finally giving in to the desire that had been simmering between you for so long.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Falling Slowly

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: You are Tim's newest rookie, and his favorite. He treats you differently, able to see that your past affects you, and the little things build up until you can't deny your feelings.

Warnings: so much fluff, brief angst, domestic violence (Tim and reader respond to a call & allusions to past dv against reader), one scene is inspired by "The Switch" (1x4)

Word Count: 4.0k+ words

A/N: This doesn't really fit in any specific season, so I put characters in the roles I wanted them to have and just made up some names to fill in the gaps. Hopefully everything makes sense. Please let me know what you think!

Picture from Pinterest

“What are you doing here?” Angela asks, surprised to see Tim.

Furrowing his brows, Tim answers, “I’m here for the TO meeting.”

Angela tilts her head back and groans, passing Nyla a 10-dollar bill.

“She thought you’d give up your position for Metro,” Nyla explains.

“I’d like to, someday, but not today,” Tim replies.

“20 bucks this is his last one,” Angela says to Nyla. “He still has the open invite to Metro and his patience can’t take many more boots.”

Nyla reaches to shake Angela’s hand as Tim rolls his eyes and walks away.

“Let me see his rookie first, then we’ll talk,” Nyla decides. “I’ve got a feeling a lot is going to change around here.”

“Like what?” Angela asks. “Nyla! Like what?”

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the Mid-Wilshire station on your first day as a rookie is both nerve-wracking and exciting. You’ve heard stories about boots making it through the academy to fail once they reach this level, but you’re determined. When you were a kid, you were in bad situations more often than any child should be, but kind police officers changed your life, and you’d like to do the same.

Waving to one of your police academy friends, you sit in the bullpen, waiting impatiently to learn which officer behind you will be your training officer. Getting the perfect training officer is up to fate, based on what you’ve heard, and your TO can make or break your career.

“Good morning, boots! I am Watch Commander Wade Grey. You have made it through the police academy, but don’t expect a pat on the back, your work is just beginning. This is the time to prove yourself, to show your TO, me, and this city why you deserve to be a police officer.” He pauses, moving around the podium to add, “If you should be a police officer.”

As you listen intently, striving to remember every word Sergeant Grey says, two detectives stand at the back of the room and evaluate the rookies.

“He’s only got one shot,” Angela mutters.

“If he gets the pretty one in the front, I’m not taking the bet,” Nyla says.

Angela looks up a row, her brows raising when she sees you. “If he ends up with her, we’re starting a station-wide pool and getting rich,” she adds.

“Now, it’s time to be assigned to your judge, jury, and executioner,” Wade says with a smile. “Or, as we call them, TOs. Our former rookie turned TO, Nolan: you’ve got Edward Henderson.

 Officer Nolan nods at Henderson, and you remember his story: a late-life rookie who got a golden ticket. Part of you wants to work with him and learn why he decided on law enforcement, but you only nod at Henderson before turning back around.

“Lance Vincent, you are with our newest TO, Eliza Reagan.”

Wade says your name with a smile that seems a bit more genuine than before. “Officer Bradford, last but not least,” he says as he assigns you your new TO.

You look over your shoulder, a small smile on your face as he nods at you. He is undeniably attractive, and you hope it doesn’t cause any problems.

“Oh, he’s a goner,” Nyla whispers under her breath when you smile at Tim.

“Should we tell him?” Angela replies.

“I think we’ll have to.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Something about you bothers Tim. Not in the usual, grumpy-with-a-new-boot way, but he has a sense that you’re different. 

“Nice to meet you,” you say, walking to Tim at the back of the bullpen.

He stands, offering a calloused hand to shake.

“I’m not going to pretend this is going to be easy or fun,” he tells you. “Being a rookie is the hardest part of your career, but if you’re a good cop under the uniform, you’ll be fine.”

Nodding, you promise to do your best and express your willingness to learn everything you can from him.

“Good,” he says. “Meet me outside the war room. We’re not wasting any time, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

Tim watches you walk away, and when you stop to let someone carrying a large box cross in front of you, Tim realizes that you’re hurting, or were hurting not long ago. The underlying need to help people is something he recognizes.

“She’s pretty,” Angela muses, walking to Tim’s side.

“Though you know that,” Nyla adds, smiling on his other side.

“She’s a boot. No different than the other rookies,” Tim argues, though his gaze is still on your back as you sign for your bags and weapons.

“Sure, she is. Why don’t you go put her through a Tim test?” Angela suggests.

Tim rolls his eyes as he leaves, wondering what hurt you bad enough to make you want to be a cop. He became a cop despite his hurt, but you’re young and bright – and too good for him – so there must be something in you that makes you worthy of this. More worthy (and more beautiful) than any rookie before you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Several officers wish you luck, with one or two warning you about so-called “Tim Tests” while you wait for Tim behind the shop.

“Don’t tell me you have a checklist,” Tim begins, drawing your attention away from the shop tires.

“No, sir,” you answer. “Just being vigilant, I suppose. I’d hate to start my first day with a flat tire.”

Tim nods, asking where the war bags are. You tell him how you checked the contents and loaded them into the trunk, and he appreciates your brief explanation.

“Good work. The easy part is over,” Tim says. He seems to weigh his options before deciding, “You drive. Show me what you’ve got.”

He follows you to the driver’s side door, opening it as he reminds you of standard shop procedures. As Tim closes the door, you wonder if he’s a gentleman or if he followed you because he doesn’t trust you to drive correctly. Either way, you know what you’re doing, and you won’t let the man in the passenger seat distract you… too much.

Driving toward Wilshire Boulevard for patrol, Tim looks out the window. 

“Blue Camaro has an expired plate,” you alert.

“Call it in.”

You do so, hitting the sirens as you engage the traffic stop. Tim raises a hand to stop you from getting out.

“Remember your training. Don’t let the situation get away from you.”

His words linger in your mind, and you complete the stop with no problem, issuing a ticket and returning to the shop.

“I’m driving,” Tim alerts you, spreading his hand across the small of your back as he directs you to the sidewalk.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask when he starts the car.

“No,” he answers bluntly.

You lick your lips nervously, turning your attention to your surroundings. Suddenly, Tim pulls over and hits the brakes.

“I’ve been shot, boot. Where are we?” Tim demands.

Furrowing your brows in surprise at his actions, you answer, “Intersection of 12th and Meadowbrook, west of Redondo. There are several hospitals in a five-mile radius, but only one has a trauma center.”

Tim pulls out wordlessly, continuing his patrol route. Tim doesn't say much else throughout the few hours between his first test and lunch. He lets you point things out, answers your questions about the area and procedures, and glances at you out of the corner of his eye. When he pulls up to a small circle of food trucks where several police officers are waiting, he turns toward you.

“You’re doing well. I’m not neglecting to give you good feedback for any reason other than once you start riding alone, you won’t get it. My role here is to prepare you for your solo career, not hold your hand until you get there.”

“I understand, sir. Thank you for answering my questions,” you reply as you open the door.

Tim’s hand finds your upper back as he leads you to his favorite of the food trucks, a light touch that disappears nearly as quickly as it happened. You thank him quietly for the suggestion before sitting with your fellow rookies.

“Hi, Tim,” Angela says.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his annoyance breaking through his growing fondness for you.

“Just came to get some food. Your boot seems to be in a good mood.”

“Strange, I thought Tim’s thing was ‘break their spirits in the first hour,’” Nyla adds as she joins Angela.

“You two not have work to do or something?” Tim inquires.

“Something like that. How’s she doing?” Angela tips her chin toward you as she asks.

“She’s got good instincts, knows protocols.”

“But?”

Tim shrugs, turning away before Angela can dig deeper.

“I give it a week,” Nyla announces.

“Before what?”

“He can’t take it anymore.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Domestic disturbance in your area,” dispatch alerts.

Tim grabs the radio, accepting the call as he hits the sirens and turns into a residential area. You chew the inside of your bottom lip; domestic calls are your least favorite, especially when kids are involved. Unwilling to show discomfort, you put on your best brave cop face and follow Tim to the door.

A young girl with a bloody nose and teary eyes opens it, and you glance at Tim before kneeling and asking her to come outside. She listens without question, her lower lip wobbling as you smile.

“He’s hurting my mom,” she whimpers.

Tim nods at you before tilting his head toward the shop. You direct the girl to stand at the edge of the porch and wait for you as you follow Tim inside.

“LAPD, put your hands up!” Tim yells as he steps into a bedroom.

Your eyes widen when you see the large man towering over the girl’s mother. He smiles as he reaches for something.

“Don’t move unless you want to give me a reason,” Tim says lowly. “Step away.”

The man looks toward the nightstand before taking a deep breath and giving up. 

“I got it,” Tim tells you before radioing a code 4.

You wait until Tim has the handcuffs secured to walk outside. The girl runs into your arms, and you pop the shop's trunk, setting her down as you retrieve a small first aid kit. She lets you clean her bloody nose, gripping your wrist when it stings.

“Where’s my mom?” she asks.

“She’s talking to my partner right now, she’ll be out in a few minutes,” you explain.

“Is he nice?”

“The nicest,” you answer.

“Mom!” she yells, letting you set her on the ground before she runs to her mom’s side.

“Get in the shop,” Tim commands as he walks past, his hand brushing your arm as he closes the trunk.

You obey, climbing into the passenger seat and waiting as he talks to the EMTs. When he joins you, he drives to a quiet, empty street before switching off his body cam and gesturing for you to do the same.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice softer than you’ve heard.

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t say what I want to hear. Domestic calls are tough but that wasn’t your first one, was it?”

You shake your head, looking out the windshield instead of at Tim.

“We all have reasons for becoming a cop, and some calls are harder than others. As long as your past doesn’t get in the way and put you in danger, it’s okay to be human,” he continues. “TOs are notoriously hard on you, but we’re also here for you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Tim shrugs, one corner of his lips upturned. “No more sappy stuff, we have work to do.”

“Oh, if you think that was sappy, I’ve got a lot to show you before I graduate to short sleeves.”

The comment catches Tim off guard and makes him feel something he didn’t expect.

✯✯✯✯✯

By the end of the first week, you feel like you know Tim well. His hand spread across your back or shoulder when you’re in front of him, his little reminders that you’re not alone, that you can show emotion when the time allows, and every other little thing he does makes you wonder why there are so many horror stories around his teaching style.

Likewise, Tim thinks he has you down. You ask him questions, ask for his opinions, listen and apply what he says, and send him small smiles when he compliments your work.

But, it only takes a shift to realize that people are multi-faceted, and cops and rookies are no different.

“Good morning,” you greet, passing Tim a small box.

“What is this? A bribe?” he asks.

You smile as you reply, “Nope. Just something I found, and I thought you’d like.”

Tim opens the box, his eyes widening at the 2000 Super Bowl tickets, the Rams’ first win. “I can’t accept these.”

“They were under a bookshelf in my apartment, it’s not like I spent a million dollars on them, Officer Bradford.”

Tucking them into his pocket, Tim opens your door. “Thank you.”

You smile, and Tim thinks your joy is the better gift.

✯✯✯✯✯

During your first call of that day, you show Tim that you don’t just value his opinions.

“Shots fired!” you radio as you duck behind the car.

“Are you hit?” Tim asks.

Shaking your head, you move closer, trusting him to direct you and keep you safe. The men in the house you were called to have automatic weapons, and though you’re a good shot, you’re not a match for their guns alone.

“Backup is on the way, but I need you to do something for me. You trust me?” Tim adds.

“I do.”

“Reach around the back and open the trunk; just far enough to reach the latch. I’ll cover you.”

He stands above you, firing into the shattered window of the house as you slip your arm and back around the end of the shop and open the trunk.

“Good, perfect,” Tim praises as he ducks beside you. His knuckles graze yours as he leans past you. “Can you reach the shotguns?”

Glancing in the window above you, you locate them quickly. “I can.”

“Do it. I got you.”

Once the shotguns are in your hands, you pass one to Tim as you ready your own. Timing your shots, you take out two shooters just as your backup arrives.

“You’re bleeding,” Tim says, his adrenaline dropping as a tactical team takes over.

You look at your arm, just noticing your ripped sleeve and bloody skin. Tim lays his hands on your arm as he turns it toward him.

“I think it was just glass from the windshield,” you say quietly, pointing to the car behind you, riddled with bullet holes and broken glass.

“Either way, we need to get it checked out.”

“Officer Bradford?” you interject. “Thank you. For making sure I trust you.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” he mutters, so soft you can barely hear it.

He taps the Super Bowl tickets in his pocket as he rises to get a paramedic to check on you, and you smile, wondering how bad it would be if you fell in love with your TO.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re quieter than usual,” Tim points out. “I need to know that whatever is bothering you won’t impair your ability to work with me.”

“It won’t,” you promise. “Sorry.”

Tim considers pressing, but he trusts you. “I’m here. If you decide you want to talk about it.”

He exits the shop and opens your door before you can reach for the handle.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Did you see that?” Nyla gushes, elbowing Angela.

“Ow. See what?”

Nyla points to Tim, closing your door and laying a hand on your shoulder as he ducks his head to talk to you.

“That’s not a reprimand,” Angela deduces.

When you smile, a tiny upturning of your lips, Nyla laughs.

“Oh, that boy… The door, the touches, listening to her? He’s gone.”

“Not just him,” Angela adds. “She asks him questions, smiles at him, trusts him more than anyone… and the Super Bowl tickets? They’re adorable.”

“Should we do something?”

“Not yet. I think they’re close to realizing.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After your longest, and worst, day yet, you find yourself in a hospital waiting room beside Tim. He hasn't said anything since a speeding driver ran into your side of the shop, though you've apologized countless times (even though there's nothing you could have done).

Tim’s jaw is clenched so tight you’re worried it will snap. You’re sitting close to him, a bandage around your wrist and an ice pack pressed to your cheek.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Stop- stop apologizing, it’s not your fault,” Tim sighs.

His arm is on the armrest between you, and you move your hand toward his. When he doesn’t back away, you turn your arm to allow your knuckles to brush against his.

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him kindly. “He ran a red light.”

“And you could’ve been killed,” Tim replies, standing abruptly and walking away.

You slump in your seat, dejected and curious about what you could say to make him stop blaming himself for someone running into you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim and his rookie sitting in a tree,” Nyla sings under her breath.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” Tim replies.

“Right, because you’re too busy being mad that she got hurt. Cops get hurt Tim,” Angela reminds him.

“Not with me,” he begins, pausing to take a deep breath. “Despite what you think, I’m upset that she got hurt, not because I’m in love with her.”

“Whatever you got to hear, buddy,” Nyla replies. “But tell me this. If it was Nolan when he was a boot, would you have felt this bad? Even if I believed you didn’t have feelings for her, which I don’t, you’re different with her and you know it.”

Tim sighs, looking out the door at you. He knows it’s true; despite his constant denial, he does treat you differently because you are different, and you’re like a magnet, incapable of being ignored or forgotten. Finally confessing it to himself, Tim knows that his feelings for you will get one or both of you in trouble unless something changes.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It is time for The Switch,” Wade says as he walks into the bullpen. “The day you ride with a new TO.”

You glance at Tim, who gives you an encouraging nod. He tells you that you’re a great rookie, but he also tells you that you’re pretty sometimes, which doesn’t seem pertinent (or always true, in your eyes). Wade says your name, and you look up.

“You’re with Nolan,” he tells you.

Smiling at Nolan, you cross your fingers under the desk that it’s a good day. 

“Henderson,” you call as he stands up, “what’s Nolan like?”

“He’s great. Really understanding and knowledgeable. A little talkative, but fairly easy going. Just stick to protocol and listen to his directions; you’ll be fine.”

“What about Bradford?” Vincent asks you. “Everyone says he’s the toughest. Anything I should be aware of?”

“I don’t think so. He’s quiet sometimes, but he’s great.”

You collect your war bag with the expectation of a good day. You will miss Tim, but learning how another TO teaches and his views can be invaluable. As you slide into the driver’s seat beside Nolan, you realize something: you like Tim as more than your TO. He means more to you than just being your teacher, your mentor, and a trustworthy officer. The thought hits you so suddenly you're not sure where it came from.

With each passing moment, you find yourself remembering something Tim said or wanting to tell him something, but he isn’t there. Nolan is kind and laughs at your muttered comments, but it is nothing like riding with Tim. As you think about all the little things Tim does, everything begins to make sense.

Someone yells your name when you step out of the shop to get lunch. Turning, you’re surprised to see Vincent storming up to you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands.

“Tell you what?”

“That Bradford has ‘Tim Tests’ and nothing pleases him!”

You glance over his shoulder, finding Tim and Nolan talking. Tim glances over at you, and the tension in his shoulders seems to ease until Nolan says something else.

“His Tim Tests aren’t that bad; he’s just teaching you awareness and safety.”

“He wants to end my career,” Vincent exclaims before muttering something about you not understanding as he walks away.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How’s Vincent doing?” Nolan asks.

“That kid has no situational awareness,” Tim answers. “I stopped at a street sign, and he couldn’t figure out where we were.”

“He’s probably scared of you,” Nyla interjects. “And, no, Bradford, I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“My rookie can tell me where I am, no matter what,” Tim adds.

“Your rookie is very good, I’ll give you that,” Nolan replies. “But Vincent has potential. Besides, your boot has people problems.”

Tim glances over at you, locking eyes with you while Vincent talks to you dramatically.

“So do I, but I’m still a good cop.”

Nyla watches as both you and Tim sigh before abandoning the conversations you’re in. She shakes her head, calculating her winnings if the betting pool goes her way.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking out of the locker room at the end of the day, you’re surprised to be called into Sergeant Grey’s office. You sit across from him, fiddling with the hem of your shirt to spend your nervous energy.

“You are being assigned to a new TO. Officer Bradford has decided to hand you off to someone better equipped to teach you,” Grey informs. “But you’re not in trouble.”

You still your hands in your lap. “Okay. Effective when?”

“Monday morning. So, rest up.”

As you stand, Grey says your name, smiling as he repeats, “You’re not in trouble. This was Bradford’s decision, nothing to do with you. Well, nothing to do with you as a rookie.”

You purse your lips at his phrasing, and he chuckles before sending you out. Walking through the parking lot, you see Tim’s truck is still there and decide to ask him what happened. Standing by the tailgate, you chew your bottom lip as you wait, nervous that you did something, though Wade assured you differently.

Tim walks up unnoticed, saying your name to get your attention.

“What did I do wrong?” you ask, jumping straight to your questions. “I can fix it; there has to be a way to fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Tim promises. “I just can’t be your TO anymore.”

“Why not?”

Tim shifts his backpack on his shoulder. “It’s not appropriate.”

Your heart drops. Tim knows you have feelings for him, and it makes him uncomfortable; that’s the only explanation. Nodding slowly, you accept your fate.

“And I can’t do this,” Tim adds.

His hands slide onto your jaw, his palms against your cheeks as his fingers settle behind your ears, pulling you into a quick kiss. You only begin to respond when he pulls back.

“You’re the best boot I’ve ever had,” he whispers, brushing his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks.

“I’m not your boot anymore,” you remind him.

“That’s your fault. Those little gifts, and soft smiles, and how well you listen… You make it impossible not to fall for you.”

You laugh, leaning against his hands as you reply, “You do too. How do you think I felt when you called me pretty or touched my back? Then you kept comforting me and inviting me to talk. It was too easy.”

“Go to dinner with me?” he asks.

You nod, smiling against his hands before he moves to touch your back again, opening the passenger door as he helps you in. Tim slips his hand into yours, kissing your knuckles as he keeps you close.

✯✯✯✯✯

When the rest of the rookies leave the station, noticing that your car is still there, they ask each other if anyone has seen you.

“Bradford’s truck is gone,” Nyla notices as she walks out.

“Looks like we won,” Angela cheers.

“Where’s Bradford?” Vincent asks.

“On a date,” Nyla answers. “With his former boot.”

The rookies’ jaws drop, wondering how you managed to pull Mid-Wilshire’s resident grump.

“Don’t expect the same to happen to you,” Angela says as she passes the rookies. “We all worked for this one.”

[wwilsonbarness]

the three words

pairings: bucky barnes x y/n reader  

based on the request below ⬇️⬇️

Ok, here it goes. Can I request a story where y/n is dating Bucky, it's new, like they haven't had sex yet, they both love each other and want to have sex, but Y/n is a survivor of SA, and Bucky will be the first guy she will be with since the assault happen. Can you write about how Bucky will take the news of the assault and how he helps Y/n move past what happened and build a life with him? A bit of Angst, a little bit of smut and a whole lot of fuff.

warnings: smut 18+ (unprotected sex, fingering, creampie), discussion of past sexual assault on reader, insecure thoughts (reader), angst, fluff, bucky is an absolute sweetheart 😭- let me know if I missed any ;) 

word count: 6206 - oops

a/n: Please pay attention to the warnings and don’t read if it will trigger you in any way. The reader blames herself for her SA but please know that if you have ever experienced anything like this it was not your fault, I hope you’re doing okay and I’m proud of you <3 

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist

Bucky notices you sniffling and pulls you closer towards him, he doesn’t hide his laughter and you know exactly why. Movie nights had always been a part of your relationship and without fail they always made you cry.

“Doll, this is supposed to be a happy movie.” Bucky whispered close to your ear. 

You turn your head and look up to see him smiling down at you. “It is happy,” you wipe your eyes trying to stop the tears from falling, “these are happy tears.” Bucky couldn’t help but laugh a little more, he loved these little things about you, like the way you always cried when watching movies, the way you always laugh at someone's jokes even if they aren't even remotely funny, the way you will always make sure to have his favourite snacks when you invite him over, but especially the way you make him feel. He had spent his whole life waiting to feel this way with someone, and with everything that has happened to him he really didn't think he would ever get the chance. You felt the same way towards him, you’d only been dating for a few months but you truly loved him. You just hadn’t been able to bring yourself to say the three words to him, part of you was scared he wouldn’t say it back.

You managed to get through the last part of the movie only crying a couple times before the credits started rolling. You hadn’t realised how late it had gotten before you saw the time on your phone, Bucky had stayed over a few times in your apartment and you loved having him there, you felt safe with him beside you but sometimes the tiny voice in the back of your mind convinced you things would go wrong, tonight you decided you weren’t going to listen to that voice. 

“You wanna stay tonight?” you asked hesitantly, what if he said no? 

“Course I do doll, if you’re okay with it?”

“Always.” you shoot a smile up at him to show you were truly happy for him to stay over. 

“I’ll be through in a minute, I just need to wash my face okay?” you say as you stand up and start walking towards the bathroom. 

“Okay, doll.” When you get to your bedroom you see Bucky in the middle of taking his pants down, you couldn’t deny the physical attraction you had for him, you even craved his touch but you weren’t ready to do that with him. Not yet. 

“I put a toothbrush beside the sink for you.”

“Thank you,” Bucky comes over to you and brings his lips to your forehead for a soft kiss, “I’ll just be a minute.” You nod your head in reply and begin to change into your pyjamas. You opted for a thin shorts and t-shirt set, remembering last time Bucky stayed over and your bed became way too warm, he was like a walking heater. 

“Cute pj’s.” 

“It’s just plain shorts and a shirt Buck.” you say back with a smile on your face.

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, “Well, I think you look very cute,” you feel your cheeks flush as he says it. He pulls away and climbs into the right side of the bed, knowing you prefer the left side and pats the space beside him. “You comin doll?” You climb in beside him and practically melt into his touch. 

He brings his face down to yours and leans in for a kiss, a slow, deep kiss and you lean into it, kissing him back. He moves his fingers up to your arm and starts to trail his fingers in circles over it, slowly moving to your chest, his lips following the same direction. You could tell what he wanted to do but you weren't ready for it, it took a second for you to say the words that were racing through your brain, “Wait Bucky, stop.” Your words came out a lot softer than you meant them to, you were almost scared he wouldn’t listen, but he backs away from you instantly and looks up to see your eyes becoming glossy. 

“What's wrong? Are you okay?” You could see the concern in his eyes and you hated yourself for making him worry. You hated yourself for not being able to give him what he wanted, you knew he deserved a girlfriend who could make him feel good. 

“I’m fine, but um,” you pause and take a breath before continuing “can we just cuddle tonight?” your voice was just as soft as before, and he could tell.

His eyes softened at your question, “Yeah baby, of course.” He lies back down and pulls you gently next to him. You lay your head down on his chest and get comfortable, he can feel the deep sigh of relief you take.

A couple minutes of silence pass before you can bring yourself to speak, and all you can manage is “I’m sorry.”

“Y/n, I promise, you have nothing to be sorry for. We don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to do, okay?” You try to answer him but you can’t find any words so you just nod against his chest. He rubs his hand gently over your arm trying to comfort you, the most important thing to him was that the girl he loved felt safe with him and he hoped you knew that. You had to know that right? That he loved you? 

You wanted to thank him for understanding and for not forcing you to do anything you didn't want to do but you couldn’t. Not without telling him about what happened to you, and you weren't ready to do that yet. You desperately wanted to tell him you loved him, to say those three words to him but the little voice in the back of your mind has once again taken control. He wouldn’t love you back, you know he wouldn’t and it would ruin everything. 

You try to push those thoughts far out of your mind and let sleep take over. 

You're not sure when you managed to fall asleep but when you woke up the space beside you was empty, he left? Did you scare him away? That thought doesn’t last long because you hear a bang in the kitchen and run through to find Bucky and the floor covered in waffle batter. 

You try to hide your giggles and ask if he’s okay but you nearly double over from laughing so hard. You finally manage to string together a sentence, “What happened in here?” 

Bucky did not find the batter spilling that funny but when he saw you laughing over it his heart melted, and he joined you in laughing. “Okay. This was not my fault” he says looking around him.

“Really? You raise your eyebrows and sport a grin on your face, “So who’s fault would it be?” 

“Well..” he pauses trying to think of an excuse but fails, “It was an accident” you walk over to him, looking out for the batter on the way, still laughing at the situation. 

“I suppose I can forgive you this time, but, only if you go change so I can hug you” 

“Just as soon as I clean this up, doll” He goes to grab the paper towels but you get there first.

“I will clean it up, you,” you point towards him “go get changed.” 

“Okay finee,” He sighs, “I will be right back.” 

It doesn’t take long to clean up and once you're finished you notice 3 cooked waffles beside the cooker, they must have been the only ones who survived Bucky’s awful cooking. Behind the waffles are tons of toppings, honey, whipped cream, strawberries and he even had grapes cut up for you, which were your favourite topping. It was unlike him to make breakfast, he would normally insist you go out because of this very reason, it normally ended up in something being broken or burnt. 

“So Chef Barnes, what made you decide to cook breakfast today?” you ask as he strolls back into the kitchen in a much cleaner state. He stands behind you and wraps his arms around you, leaning his head on your shoulder. 

“Just wanted to treat my girl, sorry it didn’t go to plan” you can hear sadness in his voice as he speaks. 

“Hey, we got 3 perfectly good waffles here, and you know what they say.” He turns his head to you, his brows furrowed together, you sense his confusion and continue. “Don’t cry over spilt waffle batter.” You both laugh at your words. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the phrase, doll.” 

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure it is,” you tease back. “How ‘bout we try these waffles? I’m looking forward to seeing how much your cooking skills have improved.”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up too high, but they look kind of okay?” His words slow down as he lifts the waffles up and inspects them. You peck his cheek quickly and lift the toppings off the counter.

“Come on, let’s do a taste test” You move to the table and lay out the toppings whilst Bucky brings over the waffles and orange juice. You both top your waffles, you choose grapes and whipped cream, and Bucky chooses honey, strawberries and cream. Bucky was almost burning a hole in your soul with how hard he was watching you take your first bite, so you decided to tease him. You purposefully make no facial expressions as you finish the bite. 

“So, where did you find the recipe for the waffles?” 

His eyes slightly squint together, “I got Sam to send me one,” You just nod. “Are they bad? I can make you something else if you want, well, not make I've had enough of the kitchen today.”

You finally break character and let out a huge giggle, “I’m just kidding, Buck. They taste really good.” He looks at you and you can tell he’s surprised, not quite believing you. “Really! Try it.” You nod towards his plate.

He takes a bite and chews slowly, almost scared of his own cooking skills before a smirk creeps onto his face. “You know what, I don’t think I’ll retire my chefs hat quite yet.” 

“As long as you promise to let me know next time, so I can have the fire extinguisher on standby.” The rest of breakfast went just like that, teasing each other, laughing together, everything felt good again. 

Bucky couldn’t stay with you for much longer that day, he had to go to the compound and meet Sam for training and preparation for a mission they had planned this week. You were sad he had to go but you knew it was important, plus it gave you time to go into work for a bit and check everything was okay with your store. You took a step back from working a couple years ago when things got a little too much, and thankfully you had great employees who could manage most of the workload without you, but as the owner you still had a lot to manage. Which is why you decided to go in today, you ended up serving customers and you enjoyed it. You didn’t think you would ever feel okay enough to work in the front again, things were really looking up for you. You worked until close and decided to stay longer to catch up on the paperwork you originally came to do until around 9pm when Bucky texts you. 

Buck

Hey doll, you alright? Sorry I’ve not been near my phone all day

You

I’m good! Miss you though :( 

Buck

I miss you too! Have you eaten yet? 

You 

No, I’ve been at the store all day, you? 

Buck 

I’ll be done here in like 30 minutes, want me to bring dinner around? 

You 

I would love that 😚

Buck 

See you soon, doll 

You finish the folder you are working on and head home, arriving just a few minutes before Bucky. 

“How many people are we feeding Buck?” you tease. He’s balancing 3 bags of food in his arms when he walks in. 

“I may or may not have gone a tad overboard, butttt,” he trails off as he puts the bags down and digs through one of them, “I got your favourite pasta.” He pulls a box out of the bag and holds it up. 

Your eyes light up at the box and the biggest smile appears on your face which makes Bucky’s heart melt. “Thank you,” you kiss his cheek, “you’re the best.” 

You both plate your food up and sit at the table to eat. Bucky tells you all about the ways Sam annoyed him today, even though you know they’re secretly best friends. You told him all about your day, even though you felt like it was pretty boring he listened to every word.

Before you know it, it was late again, and just like the night before you ask Bucky to stay over but his response is different tonight.

“Do you want me to?” His voice was smaller than usual, like it was lined with doubt. 

You did want him to stay, you hoped he knew that. “I do Buck, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to” You tried to hide the shakiness in your voice but Bucky could hear it. 

“I do, I swear I do,” he goes silent for a few seconds before he finds the words he’s trying to say. “Do you feel safe with me?” His question catches you off guard, so off guard that it takes you a minute to process it. 

“I do Bucky.” 

“I promise I would never hurt you, and I’m really sorry for last night, I never want to make you feel uncomfortable, and you being safe is the most important thing for me.” You could feel tears starting to form and take a deep breath to try and stop them. The thing was they weren't sad tears, they weren't happy tears either, but they were because you believed every single word Bucky had said to you, you did feel safe with him, you truly believed he would never hurt you, and you loved him.

Before you say anything to him you pull him in for a hug, he wraps his arms around you tightly and you can both tell neither of you want to let go, but you force yourself to. You had been debating with yourself for weeks on whether you could open up to him but tonight you had no doubts, you trusted him fully and finally felt ready to tell him. 

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I mean it wasn’t your fault, and it’s not that I didn’t want to, I’m just not ready for that yet” You’re looking at him as you speak trying to sense how he is feeling, but all you can see in his eyes are care and concern for you. Seeing that he cares for you pushes you to keep going. “Can you promise not to judge me if I tell you something ?” You knew he wouldn’t but you still felt the need to ask.

“Doll, I would never, I promise. Listen, if you want to tell me this you can but do not feel like you have to okay? It’s your choice, and whenever you’re ready to talk I will listen to you. Always.” What he really wanted to say was that he loved you but he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

You nod your head as he speaks to you, but find yourself looking down before you continue speaking. “There was this man, he’d been coming into the store a lot and he would always chat to me, he seemed like a really nice guy. He would always ask how I was and how my day was going. I even started to like him.” Your breathing starts to quicken and you try to keep yourself calm but you felt like you were reliving what happened and it scared you.

“Take your time, Y/n. Breathe, it’s okay”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for, it’s okay, take your time, take a break if you need to.” 

You shake your head when he suggests taking a break, you knew if you stopped you wouldn’t be able to start again. You lower your head down to where your hands are playing with each other, and try and catch your breath before speaking again.

“It was just a normal day, he came in, in the morning and we spoke like usual. It wasn’t until I was walking home that I saw him again. It was really dark out and I thought someone was following me, I felt like I was being watched and then he appeared on the other side of the street. I feel so stupid for it now but I was relieved, it was someone I sort of knew so when he offered to walk me home I said yes, I thought that was better than walking alone in the dark.” 

You were trying so hard to stop the tears leaving your eyes but it felt impossible, you weren't just sad over reliving what happened but you were angry, at him and at yourself. If you had just made a different choice that night everything would have been different.

“Everything was fine for a few minutes, then he started putting his arm around me and I asked him nicely to move it, but instead of moving it away he moved it lower. I kept asking him to stop but he wouldn’t, he just kept touching me. I tried to get away from him but he pulled me into an alley and pinned me against the wall.”

You still hadn’t looked back up at Bucky so you had no idea how he was reacting to this, you just hoped he wouldn’t hate you after or look at you any different. What you couldn’t see was that Bucky was holding back his tears, he had an idea of what you were going to say - even though he’d hoped he was wrong -  and with every word you said he got sadder, but he knew this wasn’t the time for him to be upset, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. 

“I told him no, I told him I didn’t want it but he kept saying I didn’t know what I wanted and that he would show me, I wanted to scream but it was like my voice was trapped, I was so scared but there was nothing I could do stop him, I swear I tried to fight him. He just wouldn't stop.” The words were spilling out of you at this point, you couldn’t control them. “He didn’t stop until he'd decided he'd had enough and then he just walked away like he did nothing wrong, like everything was fine. I ran home and it hadn’t really set in what had happened, it didn’t until the next day when I was back at work and he came in again acting nice again, like the night before never happened. That’s when I realised it was wrong, that it was beating me up inside but he was fine. That’s why I took a step back from work, I haven't seen him since that day.” This was when you looked up at Bucky, you could see the tears forming on his eyelashes but he wasn’t letting them run, he looked angry, not at you of course but your brain convinced you he was. You panicked at the thought of that, maybe he believed it was your fault? Your breathing started to speed up and you could feel your heart beat faster and faster like it was going to jump out your chest, and you suddenly felt like you had to defend yourself for what happened.

“I know I probably shouldn’t have been walking home alone, especially in the dark, and I know I must have led him on at some point, maybe when he came into work or on the walk home or maybe I said-” before you can blame yourself anymore Bucky stops you. He wanted to let you talk, he wanted to listen like he said he would but he could not let you blame yourself for this. He so badly wanted to reach out and physically comfort you but he didn’t want to panic you more.

“Y/n, you are not to blame for what happened to you, this is not on you, it’s on the guy who assaulted you, and it never should have happened.” Bucky is the first person you’ve told about this so hearing these words felt like a weight was being lifted off of you. He believed you. He didn’t blame you for it. “Can I hug you?” 

You nod your head, you missed the safe feeling you got when he held you in his arms. “It’s not your fault this happened. I’m here for you, okay? We can just stay like this all night if you want, whatever you need.”

You did want that, it was everything you wanted and needed, to be held by the one person who made you feel safe and loved. “Thank you Bucky.”

“It’s okay doll, no need to thank me” He brings his head down to yours and softly kisses your forehead. “It’s okay.” That’s how the rest of the night went, cuddled up on the couch until you both fell asleep. 

When you woke up the next morning Bucky was still asleep, you were still in his arms but you didn’t make any effort to move, this was the place you needed to be in right now. You’re not sure how long you lay there but soon Bucky starts to move beside you. 

You turn to him “Hi.” His eyes open slowly, trying to adjust to the daylight. 

“Hi.” You both let out a small chuckle at how you have woken up. “Have you been up long?” 

“No, sorry for falling asleep on you.” You go to sit yourself up only now realising you were probably squishing him considering your couch wasn’t that big but he gently pulls you back down beside him. 

“Don’t be sorry, I like laying like this” Without realising you melt into his touch, letting his arms gather round you. “Have you got any plans today?” 

Your brows furrow for a second as you try and remember if you had anything planned today, when you’re confident you don't you shake your head. “Do you have to go into the compound today?” 

“Nope. We finished all the prep yesterday, we could do something if you want?”

“Hmm” you pretend to weigh out your options but you have no doubts in saying yes, “I suppose we could do something.” 

“You’re funny,” he teases before an idea pops into his head which gets him excited. “Do you remember that park you were telling me about, with the dog cafe?” Your eyes immediately perk up at the mention of the dog cafe, ever since you saw it online a couple weeks ago you had wanted to go.  

“Yes!”

“You up for going? We can take my bike and go for a drive by the beach after if you want.”

“You know I’ll never say no to going out on your bike.” The first time you went on Bucky’s bike you were terrified but it ended up being some of the most fun you’d had in a long time, and now you jamp at the chance to go on it.

“I swear you love that thing more than me.” he said as he chuckled beside you. 

You laugh at what he says but in your mind you’re thinking that you honestly didn’t think you could love anything or anyone more than him. 

“As much as I’m loving cuddling with you baby, I need a shower.” 

“5 more minutes?” you look up at him and pout your lips a little. 

“I will always say yes to more cuddles.” 

5 minutes turns into 30 but you finally get up and showered, and head out to the cafe. It was everything you could’ve hoped for, you and Bucky had the biggest smiles on your faces the whole time. You were smitten over all the puppies, and so was Bucky, although he was more in love with the owner's little white cat who wouldn’t leave his side. Not that he was complaining, you think that was his favourite part. 

After the cafe Bucky takes you on a ride around the city, it must’ve been for a few hours, making different stops whenever something seemed interesting enough. The final stop you made was the beach, it was a little more into the country so there was a lot less people and noise. You made it just in time for the sun beginning to set, you and Bucky are both leaning against his bike, Bucky has his left arm wrapped around you and you have your head up against his shoulder. It was peaceful, mostly silent, both of you just watching the waves crash against each other. 

You were happy, Bucky was happy, everything was good. Bucky should be looking at the view but he can’t take his eyes off of you, the way your hair is blowing slightly in the wind and the slight curve in your lips every time you see a wave crashing against the sand. He decides he can’t hold it in anymore and breaks the silence. “Y/n?” 

“Hmm?” you lift your head away from him a little so you can see him.

“I love you.” you freeze for a second, in complete shock over his words and he notices so continues speaking, “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know I really love you.” 

“Bucky” You turn your whole body towards him now and lift your feet up a little so you’re level with him. “I love you.”

This was the moment you had been waiting for, you finally said the three words you had been wanting to say. It was perfect, better than you expected, it’s how it always looks in the movies, on a beach at sunset, which some would say is cringy but for you it was perfect. 

From that day your relationship only got better, you missed Bucky when he was away on missions but you’ve started going into the store a few days a week now which helped pass the time. You were still mostly working from home where you felt safer but things were really good. Bucky had helped you through a lot in the last couple months, he supported you through all the times you felt responsible for what happened to you and reassured you that it was not your fault in the slightest. When you had random days where life was just a little bit harder he reassured you that it was okay to have those bad days, and that he was there for you, and that he loved you more than life itself. 

One thing that hadn’t changed in the past couple of months was your sexual relationship with Bucky, you’d made it clear that night that you weren’t ready for anything more to happen and he was okay with that. The truth was he would wait as long as you wanted or needed before doing anything more, he understood why you aren’t ready and respected you. As  much as he likes to pretend he isn't, he actually is a huge cuddle addict, every night he comes home he rushes to hug you and doesn’t want to let go all night. Bucky still had his own apartment but he stayed at yours most nights, it wasn’t official but he had basically moved in, his things had filled up the empty spaces you once had and his own apartment was pretty bare now. 

It had been a normal day up until now, you and Bucky were laying in bed, but you felt different tonight, you’re not sure what shifted but you wanted to take things further. You bring your lips to his neck and whisper into his ear. “I love you.”

Bucky lets out a breathy chuckle as you speak, “I love you too baby.”

You bring your lips closer and place soft little kisses over his neck, whilst you run your fingers through his hair. “That feels nice..” He can feel your smile against his skin, which causes his cheeks to fill with blush. You were craving his touch and you knew he wouldn’t do anything without your permission so you asked for what you wanted, what you needed. 

“Bucky, touch me.” You see his eyes widen at your words, he was slightly surprised. 

“You sure?” You nod but he needs more, “I need words, baby.”

You can’t help the grin starting to form at the thought of being touched by Bucky, “Please touch me.” 

He turns his body around and guides you to lay flat. “You look so pretty.” You blush at his compliments, he notices and decides to keep going. First kissing your neck, “My pretty girl,” he moves lower, kissing your shoulder, and brings his left hand up to your breast. His cold fingers ghost your nipple through your thin shirt which makes you moan quietly, almost a whisper but he heard it. “Feel good baby?” You could feel the heat racing through you, following his line of kisses. 

As you open your mouth to answer he twists your nipple between his two fingers, you bite your bottom lip trying to stifle the moan trying to escape your mouth. “You don’t have to be quiet, I wanna hear how good you feel.” Bucky lifts your shirt up, exposing your breasts, the cold air hits you but not as hard as his cold fingers do. He continues playing with your nipple with his left arm and brings his mouth to the other. 

“Fuckk, that feels so good Bucky..” You weren’t sure if you were making much sense at this point. “Please Buck- Please.” It was like every bit of you was more sensitive than ever, every time his lips touched you it sent a shiver down your spine. You lift your hips up a little hoping to get some friction against your aching core. You feel his cock through his sweatpants, which made you even more excited. 

“What do you want me to do, baby?” He smirks as you look back at him, he knows what you want but he wasn’t going to do it until you asked. You both loved and hated the way he was teasing you, it made you feel so good but you needed more. 

You wrap your hand around his and bring it down to your shorts, “Please touch me Bucky.” You pull your hand away from him and he starts to pull your shorts and panties away from you. His fingers slightly graze your clit which makes you whimper under him, “Fuckk.” 

He runs his fingers up your folds a couple times, you were already so wet and he’d hardly touched you. He starts to run circles over your clit, your head falling back at the feeling, “Like that?” You could practically hear his smirk.

“Yes.. Bucky, keep- Fuck. Keep doing that.” His touch was sending you nearer and nearer to your climax, you didn’t know if it was because you were touch starved or because he was just that good but oh my god it felt amazing. He brings his other hand down and starts to tease your pussy, he drops a ball of spit down onto you and rubs it over his fingers and around your opening. He slowly pushes two of his fingers into you, you go to bite your lip to try and hide your moaning but remember back to him saying he wants to hear you.

It’s almost like he could read your mind, “Fuck baby, you sound so sexy.. squeezing around my fingers so tight.. Fuck.. I can’t wait to feel you around my cock” Your pussy clenches around his fingers at the mention of him being inside you, pushing you closer towards your orgasm.

“Oh. My. God. Bucky, I’m gonna come.” You manage to string together your sentence through your shaky breaths. No one, not even yourself, had made you cum this quickly before. 

“Go on Baby, come for me.” He speeds up his fingers rubbing your clit, which along with his words makes you completely let go and your orgasm rushes through you. 

“Fuckk..” Bucky continues to rub your clit but slows down as you come down from your high, whispering praise into your ears.

“You okay? You did so good.” You’re still catching your breath so you just nod. He moves to cuddle you a bit but you stop him, he’s confused for a second but then sees the smirk on your face. “What?” he teases. Even though you had just come you were still craving more. 

“Buckyy..” you pause for a second, the shyness coming back. “I want more..” Before he can respond, your leg brushes against his cock and he moans at the sensation. 

“Fuck, Baby. You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” 

“Show me?” you ask with a smirk. That was all Bucky needed to hear, he starts to take off his sweatpants, you see his cock hit his stomach as his pants fall and a slight whimper leaves your lips. 

“You ready baby?” 

“Please, I want you to fuck me” He presses his cock against your clit and your hips buck up at the feeling. He slides his cock down your folds gathering your wetness, before pushing just the tip in slightly.

He notices your breath hitch and stills himself, “You okay?” 

“Yes.. Go slow please.” he was so much bigger than you had ever had before and even with how wet you were you had to adjust. 

“Okay baby.” He slowly edges himself in more, “Fuckk.. You’re so tight, squeezing my cock so good baby.” His praise was making your pussy squeeze down harder onto him. 

He was fully in you now and he started to thrust in and out, slow at first but gathering speed quickly. “Fuckk.. Bucky. That feels so- so good” 

“Yeah baby?” He puts his hands on your hips and keeps thrusting into you, one thrust deeper than the rest hits that special spot inside of you, your eyes roll back and you gasp at the new sensation. 

“F..Fuck.” You can’t manage to speak properly with how good Bucky is making you feel, you were practically panting at this point and you could feel your orgasm coming towards you. You try to tell Bucky how close you are but you can’t get out the words. 

Bucky notices and is worried he’s hurting you or making you uncomfortable. “Are you okay?” 

You nod your head slightly but he starts to slow down and you can feel him start to pull out slightly. “Buc- Bucky..” You wrap your legs around him and pull him back towards you, “I’m Okay.. Just please.. I- I’m so close. Please.” 

Your pussy clenches around him, squeezing so tightly it makes it harder for him to slide in and out, you bring your fingers down to your clit and rub circles over it softly. The sight of seeing you touch yourself made Bucky’s cock throb inside of you. “Fuckk. Baby.. I’m not gonna last long seeing you like this,” You were both so close to coming, “So pretty taking my cock like this, baby.” 

He hits that spot again and you feel the band in your stomach snap, “Bucky.. I’m co- I’m coming. Fuck. I’m coming.” 

“Fuckk! Baby.” He groans out as his come shoots inside you, coating your pussy. He slows his movements, helping you come down from your highs, before carefully bringing himself to lay down beside you. You can feel the mixture of both your juices trail out of you, making a mess of your thighs and sheets but you didn’t care at this point.

“You doing okay?” Bucky whispers softly in your ear. You turn to him with a smile on your face and nod. 

“That was..” you can’t find the words to describe how he made you feel. “Thank you Bucky” It may have come across to Bucky that you were just thanking him for making you feel good but it wasn’t just that, you were thanking him for making you feel safe and loved and for waiting until you were ready. 

Bucky chuckles a little at how lost for words you are, “Thank you for trusting me,” He kisses your forehead and pulls you closer towards him, wrapping his arms around you, “I love you” 

“I love you more.” The three words you'd once been so scared to say were now one of the things you said most, Bucky truly was your love. 

“I don’t think that’s possible, baby.” 

AHHHH I hope this was okay! It’s my first request🤭

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your boyfriend’s stepmother’s feelings for you are more than platonic.

prompts. | Natasha Romanoff + Boyfriend’s Stepmother + “You’re shaking so much, honey… Just wait until I get my tongue on you.” + Obsession, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!boyfriend’s stepmom!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, age gap, boyfriend’s stepmother, cheating (ish), lying, deceit, manipulation, grooming/conditioning (?), stalking, obsession, delusion, perversion, pet names, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

Natasha dotes on you so much that you can’t help but listen to her every word. It’s the least you could do for your boyfriend’s stepmother. 

She’s putting together a dinner to celebrate an accomplishment of yours. When she brought the idea up, you said it was too much. She already does enough for you, like paying your bills when ends don’t meet or your boyfriend is too careless to help. But Natasha insisted, and who are you to deny a woman like her? She’s kind but intimidating. She puts her stepson in his place and rules over the household, which you applaud her for. You usually have to repeat yourself ten times just to get your boyfriend to listen to you.

“Aw, shit,” Natasha bemoans, looking down at her chest. Her hands feel around her neck, looking for something that isn’t there. Right now, it’s just the two of you. Your boyfriend is out with his father, buying alcohol and catching up, as the older woman said. 

Natasha told them to be home by 8, but knowing them, it’ll probably just be you two for tonight. You don’t mind—you need a break from the men in your life. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, rushing to her side. She told you to set the table while she cooks. You leave the napkins and utensils in the dining room and hurry to the kitchen. “Oh, it’s nothing,” Natasha brushes you off, waving her hand.

“No, it must be something. Tell me,” you push, wanting to help in any way possible. Sometimes, you feel utterly useless compared to the older woman. “I forgot my necklace. Remember you gave it to me for my birthday? I wear it all the time—it’s like my good luck charm,” Natasha pouts. You smile. 

“I can go get it for you if you’d like,” you offer, more than willing to do whatever she asks of you. It’s odd—you’ve never felt this way before. Perhaps it’s how Natasha welcomes you with open arms and takes your side no matter what. At times, you would jokingly wish that you were dating her instead.

“Would you be a doll? I’d really appreciate it, sweetie,” she coos, patting your arm. She always finds a way to touch you, but you never mind it. You nod your head and make your way upstairs, forgetting which room is Natasha’s for a second.

It’s the farthest down the hall. You twist the doorknob gently and open the door, entering her personal space. You’ve never been in here before, and even with her permission, it feels odd. You flick the light switch on and begin to search her dresser.

You don’t find the familiar necklace—the one with a black swan on it. You pull open each drawer, hopeful, and shut them, dejected. Nothing.

You look around Natasha’s room—maybe it’s on her bedside table. You go to open it until something catches your eye. You turn around and squint in confusion.

It’s a bulletin board. It should be in Natasha’s office, but it isn’t. Your curiosity gets the best of you and you walk closer, inspecting each note, each photograph, each paper. 

You gasp in horror when you find candid images of yourself taken without you knowing. The papers have your private information—government files, hospital reports, and academic records. The notes have details about yourself and your family, some things you’ve never told a soul but yourself. 

Horror fills you. Your stomach drops, and you feel nauseous. The woman you thought you knew is someone far more secretive—and perverted—than believed. Most photos are of you naked or almost there. 

You know you have to get out of here, so you turn towards the door, only to find Natasha with her arms crossed, staring at you.

“Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” she coos, striding closer. You step back until you hit the wall—the same one with the bulletin board. “That you’re stalking me?” you incredulously ask. Natasha tuts.

“No—don’t say that,” she seethes. Her anger has you flinching, especially when she puts her hands on you. The older woman tries to hug you, but you pull away from her, pressing against the wall as if you could ever escape her. 

“You’re shaking so much, honey… Just wait until I get my tongue on you,” Natasha chuckles. Your face twists in disgust. “Oh, don’t be like that. Mommy knows just how to make you feel good—better than your stupid boyfriend ever could,” she says. 

Natasha presses kisses on your face, and you turn your head away from her as best as possible, but she grabs and holds your face tightly. And despite your fear, she is still as kind as always. 

[carpentvrs]

The End — Mattheo Riddle

pairing :: mattheo riddle x reader

summary :: all things must come to an end, right?

based on the song the end by tom odell

warnings :: cursing (like one or two times), (mentions of) addiction & substance abuse & a toxic household, angst!! no use of y/n, tom‘s mattheo‘s brother, after hogwarts au, voldy doesn’t exist

a/n :: very angsty but i hope you like it anyway! again, english isn’t my native language so please don’t mind any mistakes. if requested, I’m up for a part two! biggest thank you to alex for helping me write <33 rebolgs are very appreciated

some things begin with the knowledge of them having an end. like watching a movie or reading a book, like going on a walk or on vacation. soon enough you will turn off the tv, close the book, return home, and tell your friends all about your summer days. if the movie is bad, you know it won’t go on forever. one more hour and you can walk out the cinema. if the book is good, you can reread it sometime, if it’s bad, close it. you can always or never again go on walks and if you don’t or do enjoy your summer trip, you know you’ll come back home either way. So many different possibilities, always the same fate. It has to end one day.

a relationship isn’t like that. it can either go on forever, until both lovers fall into the nothingness, trying to find each other even in the afterlife, hand in hand in every universe.

or it’ll end. in a peaceful or in a painful way. it ends with ’ i don’t think we want the same things for our future ‘ or with infidelity. it ends with different beliefs or with different lovers. it ends with one trying and the other giving up, it ends with one failing and the other failing to help.

mattheo riddle feels as though you two are growing apart, your usually interlocked fingers slipping through each others, no one reaching to strengthen the hold. he knows it’s his fault, he puts you through things you shouldn’t have to go through. he tries to get clean, but both of you know that with him, it’s always one wobbly step forward and three steady ones back. he tries nonetheless.

“uhm, hey, can we talk, maybe? go for a walk in the park if you’d like?”

you know what he wants to talk about. you hadn’t seen each other in a while, despite being in a relationship – if you could still call it that. not seeing each other for a month, that’s not usual, right? at least it shouldn’t be. you know it and he knows it, there’s no denying. at least you agreed to meet up now.

he puts on his leather jacket and grabs his keychain, the rattling sound of his keys and the many key rings and charms colliding together reminding him of your promise. if you make it through to next month, i’ll craft you another key ring. try for me, love. please. you did it just as a little reminder that you do care. but he’s never managed a whole month before. maybe the bottle opener attached to the key chain was a bigger reminder that eventually, one beer wouldn’t hurt him. or two.

you made key rings and charms for almost everyone. all your friends have them and your family does too. wether its an initial of their name or of their partner‘s name, a symbol or whatever else they wished for, you made it for them. and everyone loves them. so does mattheo, you thought. or did. otherwise he’d surely make more effort to treat them with care and most of them wouldn’t have scrapes and scratches all over them, and there wouldn’t be a crack in your initial either, which, to no one’s surprise, was another result of one-too-many drunken nights.

he wants to make things right, and he’s certain it’s gonna work. spending time together in the park you went to after your first date sounds nice, doesn’t it?

your first official date was in a small pub, a few months after your joint time in Hogwarts had ended. you still remember walking through the rose garden in the north side of that park after that date. the sky was painted in a velvety black, the sun‘s final farewell long forgotten and the gates were already shut. but you managed to sneak in anyway. he picked a rose for you and you appreciated the gesture more than anything, soon enough you and him both had a little rose charm attached to your keychains. he lost his, you still have yours.

looking at it now, you should’ve realized then that the way he stumbled on the way back home was already a warning sign that he didn’t hold back when alcohol was involved. And if he couldn’t keep it together on a first date, then why would he around friends? Why would he around his family, why would he around yours? And why would he not use it as a way to calm his nerves whenever life gets serious when he so obviously already did that for nothing more than a harmless first date with a person he’s known for almost longer than he’s not?

you know most of his problems go way back. they come from his father’s unloving and cold gaze and his mother’s absence whenever his father lifted his finger. as if that wasn’t enough, his brother tom would always be in the spotlight, while mattheo was kept hidden away in the shadows. if that’s how he felt, no wonder he had to find a way to forget all about it.

you tried to help. you always did.

but how were you supposed to help someone who didn’t want help himself? drugs surely aren’t the only way out. self control is a term long forgotten in mattheo‘s mind, and it was solely on him to change that.

hence you’re not as certain as him that this talk is going to help. mattheo has made too many empty promises, told too many lies and had too many accidents. sometimes even unforgivable ones. the hand that rested on that red haired girl’s lower back every time you’d meet up with your friends, that couldn’t just be a mistake. you’d love to know what he whispered in her ear whenever he had too much to drink, and you crave to know her replies, considering the relationship between you and mattheo wasn’t ever a secret. at least you didn’t make it one.

he’s already sitting on a bench in the park, carefully petting a dog that was busy sniffing the ground beneath him. mattheo sees you and immediately stands up to make his way over to you, leaving the dog behind to run back to its owner.

“they kinda look alike, don’t they?”

“who?”

“that dog and its owner, same eye and hair colour”

you smile slightly and look up at mattheo. your good looking, sweet and romantic matty. you used to be so deeply in love, one look at him and you were on cloud nine, swooning and giggling with nothing but pure adoration and love in your eyes. your little dates used to be fun, with deep conversation and lighthearted gossip sessions with moments of comforting silence filling the spaces in between.

and now? meaningless topics and useless small talk. Just the same as your last few meetups one month ago. It was more of a chore than it was enjoyable. some time has passed, the birds loudly chirping while you and him walked with slow steps, his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, yours swinging slowly on either side of your body.

„i’ve been clean for almost three weeks now, actually. 20 days.“

your eyes widened and your head quickly turns to look at him. you’re happy for him, you truly are. but your heart still doesn’t feel as full as it usually would with mattheo, and if he managed to keep that 20 day streak during a whole month of almost no contact between you two, then he would manage it also when you’re not with him anymore. right?

„oh, that’s great! ‘m proud of you, mattheo,“

„you don’t sound as happy as I expected,“ he begins, „is something wrong?“

at that moment he knows he has to claw back his confidence. maybe you had already given up, and he just didn’t want to believe it. he know you well, without a doubt. it was the lack of his nickname that gave it away. your loving ‚ matty ‘ was replaced by a simple ‚ mattheo ‘ , no nickname, no pet name. 20 days, for him, is a long time. why aren’t you half as happy as when he told you about his one week achievement 2 months ago? is it because just a day after telling you about it, you found him asleep on his couch with a half empty whiskey bottle on the table in front of him?

„no- i mean, yes, actually. it’s just-“ you stumbled over your words. you don’t want to have to say it, don’t want to say it loud, don’t want to see his pained reaction and, most importantly, you don’t want to be the cause of it. but you know you can’t keep going like this, you had lost hope a while ago, and this is the only way out.

„do you think we can be friends?“

he blinks. „what?“

your voice is shakier than ever. „friends, mattheo. i can’t keep going like this. i want to break up, once and for all. our relationship has been going downhill for too long now, you know that.“ your eyes are fixated on your shoes, not daring to look him in his eyes.

he swears he can he hear his heart being shattered and torn apart and feels how a part of his soul is leaving his body, leaving the rest to grow tired and dark and empty. tears slowly fill his eyes as he reaches for your hands, making you look at him.

you do, but quickly pull your arms back. „you can’t do this to me! i- i need you, i can’t do this without you, i can’t!“ warm tears roll down your face, and you want to hug him so bad. keep his body close to yours and not let go.

but you have to let go.

mattheo hates it. but if being friends with you means he doesn’t lose you completely, then maybe it’ll be okay. and if he really loved you, and you really loved him, then maybe, if he gets better, you’d come back. he hopes.

„and if i change?“

„maybe, matty- mattheo,“ your voice trembles „but i need to be sure you don’t hurt either of us for now. i need time, but i don’t want to lose you. friends mattheo, please?“

„you wanna be friends? after all thi-“

„mattheo i‘m begging you“

he pinches his nose, tears streaming down his face. this is his fault. of course it is. this is the consequence he has to deal with. He should’ve realized sooner that his alcohol consumption wasn’t only his, but also the problem of the people around him. and now he loses you just because of his reckless and stupid behavior. he has to change. he needs to.

„alright! fuck, alright. friends. i‘ll make it better, i swear. i won’t disappoint you, not again.“

you nod, mustering up a smile as well as you could. you hug him one last time, feeling his hand wrap around you body with a tight hold on your shirt. you feel his tears falling onto your shirt, and he feels yours.

he hates it, but maybe he needs this wake-up call. he will change. 20 days and many more to come, he won’t go back. and he’ll do it for you.

the sun slowly sets and you’ve reached the same rose garden you’d come to after your first date. the memories flood back but it’s no use.

mattheo and you, you’ve now reached the end.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it wasn’t until two days later that you went to the same park again with your best friend alex. „isn’t that mattheo over there?“

your heart paused for a second as you looked over and saw the boys with beer bottles in their hands. draco took a sip as theo had already downed almost half oh his beer in one swig.

you felt your heart break thinking about how mattheo already started drinking again after only two days. until you actually looked at his hands, finding nothing but a simple can of coke.

you left out a sigh of relief, smiling to yourself.

your eyes locked and he smiled back at you, even his eyes seemingly lighting up. you blushed slightly, turning you head back to alex. 22 days wasn’t a lot, but it was great starting point. especially for him.

„yeah, that’s my matty.“

hope you liked it! requests are open <3

[folklorefairyy]

of glasses and grins - s.h

summary - in which steve really needs glasses but has a lifetime of insecurities that has him hiding them. lucky for him, his girlfriend knows just how to make him smile.

warnings - mentions of violence (punches), mentions of bullying (taunts/nicknames from other kids), insecurities, fem!reader, kissing and general relationship touching (nothing sexual), reader sits on steve’s lap

word count - 1.4k

authors note - this is inspired by a request from the lovely vic <3 which you can find here!

i know there’s a lot of headcanons about steve needing glasses due to his head injuries and that inspired his need to wear them more here! i remember seeing this months and months ago so if anyone knows any specific people that was big on that, i’d love to give credit!!

Steve Harrington had taken one too many blows to the head. On the receiving end of fists far too often it’s safe to say his body had felt their toll. His eyesight wasn't the best to begin with, having reading glasses in middle school. After receiving enough ‘geek’ or ‘four-eyes’ jokes he eventually put them to rest in the back of the drawer of his bedside table.

As ‘King Steve’ he ignored his need to squint when chatting in the back of class, or the migraine’s he’d endure, because he’d finally built an image he didn't want to tarnish. His reputation was fragile, and he'd much rather take a physical blow than one to his ego. Until he started getting hit, a lot, and suddenly the incessant migraines became more than a dull ache and the blurinnes was more than a smudge.

You had started dating Steve after highschool, not aware of past comments or cohorts, nor the journey that has led to your boyfriend constantly rubbing his eyes and having a few close calls with rogue tree branches when driving.

It was one movie night, snuggled on the sofa with your legs scrunched onto his lap, his strong arm pressing into your back and thumb smoothing over the exposed skin of your shoulder, that you finally voiced your concerns.

For the past half hour Steve had been watching the movie through one half-closed eye, trying desperately to get it to focus. Everytime you peered up at his face he simply looked down at you and winked, or stuck his tongue out, or did practically any adorably dorky facial expression you could name in order to distract you.

Raising your hand to thumb at his cheek, you whisper a ‘Baby,’ receiving a hum from him as he turns his attention to you. Steve thinks he could hear just about every pet name fall from your lips and never get enough of it; his heart feeling warm at the thought of being your anything.

‘Are your eyes bugging you?’ you prod softly. He shuts them with a sigh, head leaning into your palm which has spread across his cheek. He half-heartedly shakes his head no, more of a tilt than anything. Prompting again you plead, ‘Stevie, please don’t lie to me.’ Your voice is filled with such sweetness he feels guilty for all of his hiding, wondering how he could ever deny the honey in your voice.

‘A little,’ he finally confesses, voice more a whisper of breath than an actual sound. He feels a little silly, keeping his eyes shut to avoid his truth - that his eyes have been bugging him long before you got together. ‘They always hurt to be honest, usually just ignore it.’

His confession tugs at your heart, your sweet boy hiding a pain you can’t magically fix with the kisses and soft words you’d usually resort to.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ you ask feeling slightly wounded, like you’ve failed as a girlfriend for not knowing sooner. You move your thumb back and forth on his cheek, reassuring him you weren’t mad but concerned.

He peers up at you through heavy eyes, lips pulled between teeth in an anxious tell. ‘I knew you’d make me wear my glasses if I told you about them.’

You tut softly and lean to kiss between his brows, ‘Oh honey, what’s wrong with your glasses?’ The revelation shocked you momentarily, the prospect of your boyfriend in glasses a welcome image but an unexpected one.

He looks away from you again, old taunts swimming in his head. ‘I’d look stupid,’ he mutters. ‘You’d find me ugly or weird and wouldn’t want me anymore.’

You could sob at the confession, firstly for the inaccuracy but secondly because you can’t believe he’s been harbouring such insecurities. Moving to grasp his face in both hands you press a kiss to his lips this time, so sweet love itself bloomed between them. ‘Honey, if you need them to see you need them.’ Another meeting of lips to reassure him. ‘Plus I think you’d look handsome in just about any get-up.’ you whispered against his lips, brushing them with a soft smile.

The comment almost pulls Steve’s mouth into a smile of his own, but his past tugs them back down. ‘That’s real sweet baby, but no one else thought so and I wouldn't blame you either.’

At this point your desperation to have Steve rid himself of such thoughts takes over and you don’t think before you’re imbing onto his lap and squishing him to the sofa, face to face, chest to chest, trying very hard to make your point, as though the physical contact would make your opinion replace the one in his brain.

Eyes staring into his, but with an incredible softness that he always elicits, you try your best to convince him otherwise. ‘Firstly, Steve Harrington, glasses are a completely normal thing to have and so many people wear them. Whoever taught you otherwise can go suck it, and I’m sorry they made you uncomfortable wearing them.’

Your sudden brashness and the random full naming of him had his heart feeling a little lighter. You, however, were not done. ‘And secondly, my boyfriend is beautiful, and I know damn straight he is going to look so pretty in his glasses. If the mental images I’m seeing are anywhere near the real deal then I’m in trouble.’ A kiss to the freckles on his nose, your silent sign of ‘I love you.’ ‘I’m gonna have to fight off a lot of people when they get a look at you, trust me.’

At this he lets out a low chuckle, lips finally pulling into that grin you so love, the urge to kiss it only slightly overpowered by your pride in removing some of his sadness.

He leans up slowly and kisses your nose back, the smile still painting his lips as he pulls away. ‘Wow, sweetheart, you really do love me huh? Thinking I’d be wooing everyone and wanting to fight for me?’

Hands smoothing his hair back, you move nose to nose, their tips kissing, and whisper upon his growing grin, ‘Oh handsome, I’d go to war for you.’

At your confession, he pulls your body down to lay on the sofa, arms wrapping around your waist, and presses his weight into you, peppering kisses into your hair and your cheeks, until he finally reaches your lips. You’re both giggling, giddy with love and a connection between you that can't be described but only felt, for it’s uniquely yours.

He looks like an angel above you, hair curtaining his face, the halo of light from the lamp illuminating him in a honeyed glow. Hand returning to his cheek, it’s favourite spot to be, you press another kiss to his lips. ‘Can you please go get your glasses? I want to work out how many people I’ve got to plan on fighting.’

He presses another kiss back, ‘Oh my tough girl, how could I ever leave you unprepared.’ Steve pulls himself off you, not without reluctance and another peck, before running upstairs to venture in the spot of his drawer he always thought he’d leave untouched, trying to wish the taunts away but never quite succeeding.

As he crept back down the stairs that anxiety of being judged bloomed in his chest and he faltered on the last step. But then he spots the back of your head, perched on the sofa so patiently, knee bobbing up and down as your enthusiasm seeped through, and he knows, that you are the one person who could see past the glasses, who would love him regardless, and so he took the final step.

The creaking of the staircase grabs your attention as your eager head whips round so fast Steve swears you’ve given yourself whiplash. The biggest smile blooming on your face at the sight of Steve, a nervous smile on his own, decorated so beautifully with a pair of wide-lensed, silver glasses.

You rush from your seat, too gleeful to wait for him to come to you. Hands to face once again, cocooning it in that warm cage he so loved, you dote a hundred kisses to his cheeks, give or take, before leaning back to whisper softly, ‘Oh my beautiful boy, I am going to have to work on my punches.’

Steve let out a loud laugh, fresh with adoration, and pressed what was not to be the last kiss that evening to your lips. You were just so precious, true sweetness in your intentions. He may have thought he’d never wear them again, but he now thinks he won’t ever take them off, just to see that spark in your eyes reflected in the glass of his once hated frames.

[sailoryooons]

Request: Alpha Yoongi x omega reader. Werewolves. Smut and fluff. Dom Yoongi and sub reader. Starting with non-sexual dominance like her kneeling at his feet. Then, kind of a fear/primal chase in the woods as foreplay. Smut. And then aftercare with nesting.

❀ Pairing: Alpha Werewolf!Yoongi x Omega werewolf! F. reader

❀ Summary: Your alpha wants to go on a hunt through the woods. Who are you to deny him?

❀ Word Count: 8,727

❀ Genre: A/b/o, werewolves, supernatural, established relationship

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: I have never used the word scent and smells this much in my life please forgive me for I have used it a million times, alpha/omega dynamics, Yoongi chasing through the reader for fun, light predator/prey play, sexually explicit content including unprotected sex (f. receiving), breeding kink, mention of ruts, oral sex (f. receiving) not a lot of foreplay, a ton of being in subspace and hormone drunk, reader is pretty much a pillow princess/borderline free use for Yoongi, a lot of slick and soft dom Yoongi/sub reader, hint at aftercare and nesting

❀ Published: April 11, 2023

❀ A/N: Hi okay so I re-wrote this like three times because every time I did it, I wasn’t getting what I wanted out of filling this request, but I think I finally have something that I am happy with! It went in a little bit of a different place, but I hope that you like it! I am super unused to writing werewolves and a/b/o and I had such a good time dipping my toe in - it’s something I want to write in the future where I have some room to world build and go crazy on word count hehehe. Enjoy!

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Milestone Event Request Fill |

Trees flash by you as you run, hands pumping at your sides, heart thundering in your chest. A pack of rabbits startle as you run by, bolting into their little dens. The earth is damp beneath your feet, still saturated with morning rain. You almost loose your footing more than once as you spring over a fallen tree, dry-rotted and full of ants.

The pine trees are packed tight, shafts of moonlight painting the forest floor in spotlights of silver as you run. The low-hanging branches catch you on your flight, needles stinging your skin but not drawing blood. Still, you snarl as a branch cracks under your barefoot, sending a sharp pang through your sole. 

You don’t stop, moving blindly toward the south of your territory. You don’t look over your shoulder to see where he is - you don’t need to. Even with a small head start, Yoongi is far faster than you are, and you swear the land changes at his command, putting tangled vines where you don’t remember them being, adding a hole to trip you up as you sprint through the trees. 

Yoongi isn’t magic, of course. He cannot change the lay of the land any more than you can, but he walks among these trees and hills every night. Plus, you’re frantic in your runaway, your human instincts bluring, somewhere between wolf and person. 

Run, little omega, Yoongi had whispered, pupils blown out, scent heady and hypnotizing. You’d only just come through the door to find him standing in the living room on the edge of pre-rut. Run and don’t let me catch you. 

Except Yoongi is going to catch you. You can hear the squirrels in the trees chattering angrily at him as he crashes through the woods behind you. He doesn’t have to be quiet - he is the top of the food chain here, he has nothing to fear. And neither do you, really. You’re a predator too, a wolf born and bred in these woods.

There is only a single thing you are prey to and he is laughing manically behind you as he hunts you down. 

Movement to your right catches your eye. Yoongi’s trying to cut you off, coming from the west of the woods to intercept you as you scramble south. You snarl and change direction, swerving southeast to put distance between the two of you. 

“Ah, come on, omega!” he hollers behind you, voice closer than you expect. You move faster, desperate to outrun him.

This far south of your house is a ravine. You know that if you slide down the side and run east, you’ll end up in Jungkook’s territory. A place your’e definitely not allowed to go, especially right now. You throw caution to the wind anyways, making a line for the ravine, singularly focused on making the slide down. 

You never make it, Yoongi slamming into your side and knocking you off your feet. You scream as you go down hard, but not hard enough to do more than jar your bones. Yoongi takes the brunt of your fall; you pressed against his chest, his back hitting the ground hard before he rolls. 

Gasping for breath, you claw at him, scraping to move from where he has you pinned. He laughs, catching your hands in one fist and slamming them above your head. His grip and the sound of him snarling your name has you snap to attention, going boneless. 

Yoongi is panting heavily against you, filling your space with his scent. Your eyes flutter as your chest heaves, trying to catch your breath. Every inhale has your sense flooding with Yoongi’s scent: pine and sage, edged with something heaver and muskier. 

Alpha near rut. 

It makes your head spine and for a second, your vision of him goes a little blurry. He lets go of your hands but you don’t move. He knows you won’t, pinned under the heavy weight of him as he straddles your waist, sitting on you. 

Blinking the heaviness from your eyes, you look up at him and it feels like the world stops. 

Yoongi’s round face is framed by dark, black hair. It’s a little damp with sweat, clinging to his brow bone. His feline eyes are sharp and wild, pupils dilated with the frenzy of the hunt. A single, dark scar mars his right eye. You used to feel a pang of guilt looking at it, a reminder of what being an alpha had cost him. 

Now, though, you think of it fondly. You’ve traced it hundreds of times with your fingers, know every smooth and knotted surface of the injury. Yoongi is beautiful with and without it, lips glossy as his tongue darts out to wet them.

“You smell so good,” Yoongi growls, leaning down. You hold your breath as he leans toward your neck, nosing the scent gland there. Stars burst behind your eyes and you shiver underneath him, let out a whimper. He laughs, the sound low and scratchy in your ear. “Could smell you all the way from the house.” Yoong’s hands runs down your hips, skirts your thigh, and slips between your legs. He presses his fingers against your jeans. “Could smell this perfect little cunt for miles.”

A high-pitched whine leaves you as Yoongi presses harder, fingers providing the barest amount of friction. The ache between your legs is growing painful, your stomach twisting in arousal in response to the smell of him, the touch of him. An omega responding to their alpha in pre-rut, nearly on the brink of instrictual frenzy. 

Forming coherent thoughts is difficult, especially when you’re mind is in a state that’s more wolf than human. That’s the struggle with werewolves, toeing the line between human and animal. Instinct and choice. Your body does not choose to respond to him on a chemical level, but you don’t mind. It’s Yoongi. Your Yoongi. Your mate. 

“I told you not to get caught.”

You huff, irritation stoking you. He mouths at your throat over your gland, making you nearly pass out. “You’re faster than I am.”

“That isn’t true.”

Yoongi distracts you with a wet, hot lick over your mating mark. You let out a loud moan, not even trying to hide it this time. He laughs as you squirm under him, silenced when he growls your name. “Is that true, omega?” He asks, mouthing at your jaw. You can hardly understand his line of questioning as your thoughts and feelings blur. “Am I really faster than you?”

For a few moments, you don’t respond. Everything feels heightened, the sound of Yoongi’s voice buzzing against the corner of your mouth as he brushes his lips across your skin, not kissing you exactly. You’re hyper-aware of the smell of him, threatening to drive you into madness. Feel the way his hips press to against yours. 

“Omega.” Yoongi’s voice is final. 

“No,” you admit. “You’re not faster than me.” 

“So you let me catch you?” 

“I thought about it.” Yoongi nose bumps yours. Your eyes flutter shut as his mouth barely touches yours and you speak against his lips, “But then I decided I wanted to win.”

“And you were running to Jungkook’s hmm?” You wince and he hums, knowing he’s right. “Bad omega. Little wolves running into another alphas territory while they’re being hunted isn’t a very good idea, huh?”

“Would you have followed?”

“Of course I would. You’re mine. I would follow you into a fucking fire. Little Jungkookie’s territory is nothing.”

It’s a simple declaration, but you know what it means for an alpha to boldly claim he would enter another wolf’s territory, to break a line of demarcation. You can’t help but smile, leaning your head upward to press a kiss to his lips, hungry and tired of running from him. 

Yoongi lets you, though you feel the shape of a smirk through the sweet taste of his mouth, warm against yours. Yoongi sinks his hips heavily against yours and you moan into his mouth, spurring him further. Your hands remain where he left them, outstretched above your head as he licks into you, no longer content to let you kiss him the way you want. 

His kisses consume you. He takes your breath away, hand leaving the apex of your thighs to snake up your front, loosely gripping your throat. You feel dizzy. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t do anything but rest his hand at the base of your neck, fingers pressed lightly to the sides of your throat. 

It’s comforting, having him smother you like this. You get lost in the wet tangle of his tongue, your skin burning up from the inside out. He rolls his hips into you, but it’s not enough. You need him, a fire sparking to life that burns hotter than you can manage.

A feverish need comes over you. Yoongi senses the shift. His kisses turn to bites, teething gently at your skin as he works you out of your clothes. You still haven’t moved your hands and when he glances at them, he grins. 

Your eyes are only for him, shrouded in darkness as he pulls your pants down, then your shirt. Your eyes are sharp in the dark, able to see the rippling muscle of his arms and shoulders. The dusty nipples, the swells and planes of his chest and stomach. See the way his gaze is fucked out when he’s barely touched you, shuffling down your legs, hands skimming and grabbing the soft meat of your thighs. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, eyes dragging from the wet smear down your thighs, to your hands above your head. You whine under his gaze and he grins, feral and sharp. “So obedient for me.”

“You like hands above head until you say so.”

“I do.” Yoongi bows low, grabbing your legs and hiking them over his shoulders. Your world spins, feeling his breath on your cunt as he makes a low sound in his throat. “Fucking wet, just how I like it.” 

Yoongi licks a sloppy path up your pussy and you gasp, head digging back into the grass. It’s almost painful, the need for him pulsing between your legs. He hums, sucking at your clit hungrily. Your toes curl and you hide your face in your arm, the urge to squirm away from the stimulation strong.  

You’re an exposed wire under Yoongi’s tongue as he eats you out, messy and wet. He laps at your hole, eager to taste you, nose pressed against your clit, teasing. You whimper his name, thighs clenching, fisting your hands together as you fight to remain still. It’s nearly impossible, this stillness he’s asked of you. You want to reach down and thread your fingers through his hair, want to dig your nails in and scratch, want to pull him close and shove him away.

The sounds he makes are obscene, alternating between sucking loudly and flicking his tongue against your throbbing clit. It’s pleasure-laced pain. You want him to fuck you, to sink into you as deep as he can until you can’t do anything but take it. But you like this too, the way Yoongi’s tongue works your clenching hole.

A high-pitched keen leaves your mouth. He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded as he sticks his tongue out, making a show of licking your cunt top to bottom. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth as you mumble his name, speech slurred. 

“Hmm?” he asks, grunting against you as he works you closer to an orgasm, which hovers in the distance. He looks up at you again, sees the tears lining your eyes. “You can touch me,” he murmurs, saying the world between lush licks between your folds. “Greedy omega.”

And so what if you are greedy. Yoongi gives you everything you want. He makes a grumble about it, rolling his eyes and sometimes acting like it’s a little inconvenience, but you know he loves it- loves this. Loves letting you get away with things when you ask sweetly.

Yoongi’s hair is silky and a little sweaty as you run your fingers through it, nails scratching at his scalp the way he likes. His moan is muffled against your pussy and you wriggle beneath him. It feels so good, your stomach in knots. Your limbs begin to tingle and you feel that tight, squeezing feeling in your core, clenching hard. 

You squeeze your eyes shut. Dig your nails into Yoongi’s scalp and he growls at the pain. You think your breaking skin, nails turned into claws, limbs shaking as your orgasm tightens and tightens until it feels like you can’t breath, like the world is going to crack in half. 

And then it breaks. Your orgasm floods out of you in a rush, your muscle spasming so hard that you scream. Heels digging into the dirt, fingers tangled in Yoongi’s hair, head whipped to the side, cheek pressed into the ground and eyes squeezed shut so hard you see colors exploded behind your eyelids. 

Heavy-limbed and feeling drunk, you drop your legs open a bit. Yoongi’s hands are on your hips, flipping you over. You don’t have the strength to hold yourself up, hands buckling under you, face pressed to the back of your palms. He says something that you can’t hear, your head still swimming in the clouds. 

Every one of your joints feels melted, unable to lock together to support your weight. It doesn’t matter. Yoongi does it for you, lifting you up so that you’re on your knees, thighs spread wide. Air cools the wet mess on your legs. You realize you’re dripping past your knees. 

Yoongi’s palms feel like fire on your flushed skin. He wraps and arm around your waist, pulling you back to his chest, the other looping under your arm so he can grab your neck firmly. This time, he does squeeze, fingers placed perfectly on the sides of your throat. 

Everything around you feels like cotton candy fuzz, fluffy and sweet. Your head lolls back, resting on his shoulder as his teeth find your shoulder, nipping your skin. Behind you, his cock slides gently between your folds, making you hiss. 

“Gonna fill up this pussy,” Yoongi murmurs. “Gonna fuck you full, yeah?”

You nod your head. “Yeah.” The word slurs on your tongue. “Please, want it.”

“You’re already fucked out from just my mouth, omega.” 

“So?” 

He chuckles darkly. His cockhead catches your clenching hole and you whine, hands going to clutch the arm on your waist and holding your throat. “Have you no decency, hm?”

“No. Yoongi please, it hurts. Please just - please.”

“Shhh.” Yoongi places a warm, wet kiss on your jaw. “I’ve got you. You know I’ve got you?”

Words are too hard, so you nod. Yoongi places another sweet kiss on your cheek before he shuffles and thrusts into you, smooth on the upstroke. You gasp, breath knocked out of you as he slides to the hilt. Yoongi’s cock is thick and though you’re soaked, the stretch is intense, your walls clinging to him in a vice grip.

Behind you, Yoongi curses. His hand tightens, and it gets just a little bit harder to breath. Slowly, he retracts before snapping forward again, stroke slow but hard. He groans, focused on setting a leisurely and smooth pace. Every thrust of his hips makes his cock hit deep, punching the air from your lungs. With his fingers pressing against your throat, it gets harder to take in more air, making you light-headed, the forest spinning. 

It feels so good, this blooming pleasure inside of you. Every time he hits your soft spot just right, you feel closer to madness. Yoongi squeezes your throat tighter. His skin is warm and sweaty, sliding against yours, the friction making your eyes roll back.

Yoongi’s teeth scrape your shoulder. Sink in just a little, not enough to draw blood, but you feel the sting. It’s good, pleasure-laced pain. And then he’s telling you to let go, to come around him. You deny your alpha nothing, eyes fluttering shut as you squeeze tight tight tight. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi snarls. You come so hard he has to stop thrusting, your pussy clenching around him with everything you’ve got. You’re not breathing, air stuck in your lungs, blood rushing in your eyes, stars behind your eyes. “Breathe,” Yoongi pants, letting go of your throat. You suck in a sharp breath of air, flooding your lungs. “That’s it. You can take it, yeah? Can take it til I fill you up?”

“Yes, alpha.”

It’s a mumble of words. You’re not even sure if it comes out right. Yoongi holds you to him, doesn’t mind that you're boneless. Your fingers thread his where his hands grip you, squeezing as your head cradles against his neck. You nose him there, drawing all sorts of feral sounds from him as he chases his orgasm, driven to the edge while you scent him. He comes with a loud sound, maybe your name or something else. You’re not sure. 

Yoongi smells like home. Well - smells like earth and come and sweat and trees and pheremones. But his smell is there, pine and sage. Wild and gentle. Earth and cleansing. You love the smell of him, you have since you met him. 

“Rest.” Yoongi’s voice sounds faraway. “I’ve got you.” 

Weightlessness takes over. You don’t remember moving and you don’t remember Yoongi pulling out of you and picking you up. You’re drunk off his scent, hormones throwing you over the cliff and into a deep lake, where you float aimlessly. Comforted. 

Soft sheets slide against your skin. You turn your face and breathe in, smelling Yoongi everywhere. It’s warm and you smell you too. Rosemary and mint. Your scents linger together, making you feel at home. Loved. Safe. 

Something jostles you a little. You slow-blink an eye open, realizing you’re at home, tucked into the corner of your room you like to use for nesting. Blankets of Yoongi’s are piled eye and there are shirts and hoodies that belong to him. Some shirts that belong to you. Things that remind you of the two of you, that feel like you both. 

Yoongi is tucked behind you, breath puffing against your ear. His eyes are closed when you curve your head to look at him. “Sleep,” he rasps, not opening his eyes. “And thank you for the hunt. I’m not done with you. But I’m tired.” 

You smile and close your eyes, drifting to sleep in the safety of Yoongi’s arms.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I love your blog so much!! You're without a doubt my favorite writer on this app, you write yanderes so so well and you just manage to capture so amazingly the personality of EVERY character you write, especially Byakuya, i love him so much, and you just write him so well, i've been reading and rereading your works nonstop!

Could i please request yandere Byakuya with a Reader who's very kind and gentle and they like to follow him around (not in an annoying way, but in an attempt to try to befriend him and make sure he is okay during the killing game, since he is kinda excluded for being an ass). Better yet, how would he react to Reader actually leaving him alone after he went too far, or was too mean to them

Love everything you post so much, feel free to deny, remember to eat and drink water!

Thank you so so much! I'm happy i could make you happy! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Sweet ‘n Sour | Yandere Byakuya Togami

It’s honestly an honor

That you’re transmigrated into an anime/game

Too bad it’s the killing game of Danganronpa

And of course, with you thrown in the middle things are really unpredictable

So you’ll comfort yourself in being as kind to these characters as you possibly can

Especially Byakuya

A fan favorite and an intriguing ally throughout the game

Of course, you just gravitate toward him

Even though he sneers and insults you

Sometimes threatens

But you don’t mind…

…

Even though….

Those comments are beginning to hurt 

It’s one thing to love a meaner character through the screen but in person, it’s pretty hard

despite your inclination to maintain your usual smile and gentle actions

After a while, you just stop trying 

Too bad some may consider that your biggest mistake:

“Honestly I was hoping you’d turn up as one of the corpses during this farce; it probably would have made it even more interesting.”

That was it.

That was the last straw for you. Toko could have all his time and attention for all you care. The sheer fact you’ve put up with this for so long disgusts you. To hear your own life be spat on by the guy you’d been trying to extend a helping hand to–it was despicable. (Of him or of you, you couldn’t decide.)

“Ah, I see. Have a good night then.”

That was the last time you went out of your way to speak to him; immediately changing your schedule to accompany someone else. Since you’d been away with Byakuya you almost forgot how kind the rest of the group was. 

“(Y/n) I’m so happy you’re willing to hang out now! Let’s make donuts together!”

“After that I hope you’ll indulge me and Naegi in a puzzle of sorts.”

“I-if it’s alright with you..”

It was refreshing. 

To be told you were actually wanted around was somehow so fulfilling.

What terrible company you’ve been keeping.

“I’d love to!” Within a matter of days you are feeling the warmth of friendly interactions; whereas the man you’re avoiding is having a….less than stellar reaction.

Crash! 

Toko was excited that her Byakuya-sama had finally chased you. A rival weak enough to be effected by words wasn’t much of a rival at all! But upon your absence in only a few hours into his daily routine Byakuya had made an intense realization. 

That he desperately desired your attention on him.

He didn’t have to actually see you skirting your routine with him to know he hated the thought of you spending any amount of time with his classmates rivals. It literally made his skin itch and his throat close up with every minute away from you. Naturally he doesn’t care that even Toko is unnerved by the tantrum he throws. Books are strewn about, the shelves dangerously leaning against one another. All of it just an emphasis of the palpable malice emanating off of Byakuya. In the middle of the ruins he just stands still. 

Alarmingly still.

Like a predator looking out. 

Are they hunting? Scoping? Contemplating the ways to torture their enemies?

No one really knows.

Even when he pulls at his hair and belts out in an uncouth laughing fit. In an instant he stops demanding Monokuma show himself this instant. He needed to find you. Now. He’ll make it a point to inform the headmaster of his own teaching. 

Because apparently you–being the kind and gentle soul you are should be able to withstand all kinds of people. Especially him. Always him. So he’ll offer his own guidance by keeping you within arms reach at all times. 

He expects you to persist against anything he can throw at you.

How else are you going to rule the world as a Togami?

[aayakashii]

hi!! for the kissing prompts could i request 35 with any of the vagastrom boys?

congrats on 200!!!

I chose Sho for this one!! I hope you like it!! I actually really like this one lol so I hope the reader will like it too <(_ _)>

❤️35 a kiss against a wall

“Please?”

“No.”

“Come on, senpai. Please!”

“I don’t want to go, Sho!”

The white haired boy tugged on your arms, a pout on his face and deadly puppy eyes attacking you mercilessly as he begged you to go out with him and Leo.

“Please! I want to take you there with me.”

“Why?” you narrowed your eyes, suspecting his every motive.

“Well… because…” Sho stumbled on his words, not really knowing how to tell you he wanted to take you with him, just because he wanted your company, without sounding too desperate.

“Sho” you sighed, running a hand through your hair, exasperated “I am not much for parties… I think you already can tell that by… like… how I EXIST and all.”

“We can leave quickly! Promise” Sho didn’t let go of your arm, adamant on convincing you. He needed you there or he just wouldn’t have fun.

“Leo won't want to leave quickly.” you raised an eyebrow.

“He can take care of himself.” he shrugged.

“Oh boy. This won’t work out…”

“Come oooonnnnn, senpai. Can’t believe you just won’t do this ONE THING for your very own kouhai. Your only one!” Sho tried to feign hurt, clearly aiming to tug at your heartstrings.

“I have Ren.” you said, raising one finger.

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“I also have Ritsu and Lyca” you raised two other fingers “Oh and I’m sure you also remember a first year named Leo too? Maybe you don’t know, he’s very quiet and introverted.” you finished, raising another finger.

“Okay, damn. I meant your FAVORITE one then.” Sho said, brows and nose scrunched in annoyance.

You sighed and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning, not missing the way you did not deny him being your favorite.

“Okay.” you said, defeated “But we'll leave quickly okay?”

Sho pumped a fist into the air.

“Nice, senpai! Okay! A promise is a promise.” he said, twiddling his pinky finger in your direction.

You were pretty sure this would be an awful idea.

Awful idea.

The place was packed and you never felt older. It was like you were possessed by some 80 years old little grandma with arthritis that hated loud noises, because all of that was extremely overwhelming to you.

You did your best not to frown, but the way you stuck like glue to Sho's side was very telling.

“Let's go to the bar, get some drinks and stay there a little” Sho yelled into your ear right after Leo sauntered away into the crowd, where some people apparently recognized him.

You nodded and desperately grabbed his hand as he opened the way for you both, completely missing the little blush that graced his face and the tip of his ears.

You silently snuck your earbuds in your ears to muffle the dizzying screech of electronic music and heaved a sigh of relief when it actually dampened the sound. You hoped Sho wouldn't find it rude or something like that, but you just couldn't function when everything was so much louder than your own thoughts

The bar was packed as well, but it was the only place available for you to sit, since most of the place was just the cramped dancefloor and a few sofas here and there, on the darkest corners of the room – all occupied by suspicious looking men and women.

Sho yelled something to the barman, quickly finding two very precarious stools for the both of you to sit. Oh, this was awful. The things you do for love.

You shook your head right after that thought crossed your mind, not willing to think about your feelings for the man right beside you in the worst place possible.

Suddenly, as if to distract you from these thoughts, a pink-red drink was slid right in front of you. You turned to Sho in order to thank him, but he was squinting his eyes at the distant crowd, with his own drink in his hands. He looked back at you and leaned towards your ear.

"I have to talk to a few friends. They're over there, it'll be quick!" he yelled into your ear and you felt your whole body freeze. Oh, just great. So he was going to let you fend for yourself in a place you hated?

"No!" you grabbed his hand "Don't leave me alone!"

Sho frowned at your reaction.

"It'll be quick, senpai! I promise! I'll just say hello and come back to you. I won't let you be alone for too long, okay?" he said as he removed your hand from him.

You furrowed your brows and frowned, your anger quite clear on your features.

"I'm never going out with you to a club ever again!" you yelled to his back as he walked towards the mass of dancing strangers, and he quickly looked back at you, apologetic (though you hardly believed he heard you through the music).

"Great. Just great." you mumbled to yourself once you were alone, and turned to face the bar counter.

That was another reason for you to hate clubs and parties. Whenever your friends invited you, you tried to make them promise they wouldn't leave you alone, but every single time, without fail, they seemed to disappear amongst the crowd and leave you to fend for yourself despite your anxiety and hatred of big crowds.

You were kinda used to it, to be honest. You just didn't expect Sho, of all people, to do the exact same thing.

You sighed, staring at your empty glass. It had already been 20 minutes and no sign of Sho coming back. You were debating just up and leaving, but you'd give him just 10 more minutes to see if he was going to disappoint you for real or not.

Once you decided on your course of action, you felt a sudden presence near your shoulder.

“Don't like loud music either?”

You jumped as someone leaned towards you by your side. They raised their hands, as if they wanted to prove their harmlessness, and quickly pointed to his own ears.

“You don't like loud music either?” they repeated and, upon closer inspection, you noticed they also had earbuds in. You relaxed into a smile and nodded.

“Were you dragged here by friends as well?” you asked the stranger, who also relaxed when they saw you smile.

They nodded. “Yeah but now they're mingling with people over there and I was left alone here.”

“Oh, same!” you exclaimed and raised your hand, inviting them to do a high five.

They laughed and you two continued the conversation. His name was Tatsu and he was pretty much on the same boat as you. He had been convinced by some friends to go to the club despite hating that type of place, only to be left to his own devices as soon as they arrived there.

Tatsu was a pleasant man, and genuinely just seemed desperate for some company in that unknown place. You couldn't say you didn't understand and, honestly, you began deeply sympathizing with him the more you two talked and the longer Sho took to come back to you.

You knew you were a handful in those types of social situations – not everyone wants to babysit – but you wished extroverted people like Sho at least tried to understand how hard it is to be an anxious person in the most anxiety-inducing type of place.

Unbeknownst to you, he was very much regretting that whole ordeal.

Sho's friends were a handful, much like Leo. Perhaps there was a whole pattern there, but he wasn't very willing to analyze that at the moment.

As soon as he got to their circle, just to say hi, they began pushing him towards other people, egging him on to flirt with randos he definitely didn't care about. They always did this.

Sho liked to go to the club for the drinks, the music, the friends. He never really cared about hooking up with unknown people. He didn't see what fun Leo and his other friends saw in pushing their tongues down the throats of people they would probably never see again.

But his sticking out like a sore thumb annoyed them, so they kept on pressuring him to “just go and do it, it's easy, you're a handsome guy, you'll get anyone super easy”. Apparently his type of fun was wrong and they wanted to hammer him down just like a nail that's out of place.

Perhaps this is why he wanted to take you with him so badly. You'd understand him and what he would like to do. You definitely wouldn't pressure him into doing something he didn't want to do… like he did… with you… when he pressured you into going to the club with him.

Well, well. The hypocrisy.

“Shit” he thought, turning around on his heels and ignoring the voices of his friends calling out to him. If they wanted to say something that wasn't about fucking and making out like a bunch of perverts, they could just send him a message. And it's not like anything that came out of their mouths mattered anyway.

Pushing his way through the crowd, he slowly went back to the bar, readying a whole apology speech to you, thinking about which drink he could order for you and which snacks you would like.

His thoughts came to a halt when he spotted your figure, still sat on the same barstool, laughing.

Talking to some guy.

Sho's eyebrows furrowed and he felt a ringing inside his ears – the tell tale sign of anger burning inside his veins.

“Who the fuck is that.” he thought to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists unconsciously, as if he was readying himself for a fight.

You were laughing with some dude, your face closer to him than necessary, giggling like you two had a lifetime of inside jokes Sho would never know of.

It was maddening.

Sho felt his face heat up and his chest hurt as the claws of an unknown feeling, green and ugly, pierced his heart. What was this after all? Just anger? Betrayal?

His feet moved again, quickly, and he stopped right behind you, openly glaring at the man who seemed to have caught your attention.

The man pointed towards him, nodding his head at you, which made you turn around and finally face Sho.

Oh, so you were so focused on the conversation you didn't even notice him standing right behind you, huh?

“Oh! Hey, Sho, welcome back! Finally.” You said, with a smile that wasn't as wide as the one you were giving that random asshole just a few seconds ago.

“Come.” Sho grabbed your wrist and pulled you in the opposite direction of the bar, not waiting for your answer.

“Huh? Ah, wait! Bye, Tatsu!” you yelled at the man who was left behind at the bar. Sho's frown deepened.

“Bye! I'll see if I can find you on instagram later!” he answered. “Not if I fucking kill you first you fucking asshole” Sho thought, gritting his teeth.

You followed Sho without much protest, which was the littlest balm for his rage, but still not enough to quench it. He kicked the back door to the club open and stepped outside, pulling you with him to feel the fresh, cold air out of that cramped space.

You breathed deeply and stretched for a second, before Sho caged you between him and the club's wall right behind your back.

You looked at him, eyes wide.

“What's wrong?”

His breathing was ragged, as if he had just run a whole marathon and you – you seemed genuinely confused at his behavior. Your hand went up to touch his reddened cheeks and he leaned against it. You could feel the heat emanate from his skin.

“Do you have a fever?” You asked, putting your other hand on his forehead and then cupping his cheeks.

Sho's breaths slowed down and he held your hands in place.

“Who was that guy?” he managed to ask.

“Who? Oh, Tatsu?” Sho frowned again at the mention of his name “I don't know. We just talked while you were out. He was abandoned by his friends too.”

Sho winced at the “too”.

“I didn't abandon you.” he said, with an angry pout. You giggled at his expression and his shoulders sagged just a little bit.

“Well, maybe expecting you not to leave my side at all was asking too much, but you did take a long time to come back.”

Sho opened and closed his mouth, wordlessly.

“You look like a fish” you teased, squishing his cheeks against your hands.

Suddenly, he felt extremely silly. You were only talking to that guy because he left you there. You weren't just up and leaving him for someone else. He created that mess. Which, apparently, you didn't even think was an actual mess, if your behavior was anything to go by.

He sighed loudly.

“Senpai… I'm sorry.” He mumbled.

“What for?” you dropped your arms to the side.

“For leaving your side for more than a second.” he stared deeply into your eyes, and you knew he was serious.

“Okay.” You smiled “You're forgiven.”

“Don't trust any other guy to keep you company then. Only me.” he finished, with a downcast expression.

You couldn't suppress the grin that formed in your lips.

“Is this all because you were jealous of that guy?”

“I wasn't jeal-” he began, and interrupted himself once he looked back at you.

No, yeah, who was he lying to. That green and ugly feeling was definitely jealousy, he thought.

He looked to the side, a sudden redness spreading through his face.

“You weren't what?” you nudged him to continue.

Sho's gaze snapped back at you and he leaned forward, quickly, clumsily smashing his lips against yours as he pinned you closer against the wall. As fast as the kiss began, it ended and both his and your lips were a bright shade of red at the end.

“Yeah" he said, breathlessly "I was jealous, what about it?” he rested his forehead against yours, pouting as he looked at the redness he left on your lips.

“Nothing, nothing” you giggled “Can we go home now?”

He nodded.

“Oh, for sure. Please, let's go home” he firmly grabbed your waist, leading you through the alleyway besides the club and towards the main street, where Bonnie was parked.

You scooted closer to his tall frame and he grabbed your waist tighter, possessively.

You smiled to yourself at the thought of your cute kouhai clinging to you in his jealousy.

Maybe going to the godforsaken club wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

[withleeknow]

HAII! i’m so happy to hear you’re opening requests, your writing is incredible !!

if you remember my idea with the dancing, as you said a short thing, could you write something similar to that maybe?

if not, lee know and yn play truth or dare together one night, “do it, i dare” what happens is free for you to decide 😊

-🍓

devastate me.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: brother's best friend au, mutual pining, kinda fluffy?, kinda angsty?; tbh idek if this makes sense bc my apologies, i finished it at almost 3 in the morning in a delirious state of mind lol, unedited @.@ word count: 0.7k note: hi strawberry!! i chose to do the second one bc i wasn't sure if i could do your original justice with just a quick drabble, but i hope you like this one regardless!! merry christmas heheheh <;33

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

what is lee minho?

to many, he's wonderfully charming, handsome, insanely smart and funny to the point that it's almost annoying, because how on earth can someone have it all just like that? he's kind and sweet. honest and gentle. the perfect man.

to you, he's all of those things and more. much more.

he's the person that you've been in love with for as long as you can remember. the person whose name you will forever associate with the longing of first love. it's beautiful, but it's pain nonetheless.

he's forbidden fruit, the one you want the most but can't possibly have.

your brother's best friend.

but...

if that's the case, if he's off limits to you and you're off limits to him, then why does he have a hand on the wall next to your head, looming over your body with the intensity of a predator? why is he caging you between his arms in the middle of a hallway, at a party in a stranger's house, where anybody could walk by and see you? why are his hips pressed against yours, blurring a line that could be never uncrossed if you take that step? why is he leaning in until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, until your lips are brushing, so close and yet... so far away?

you know why, and it's possibly the worst thing that you could ever be aware of.

that as much as you're in love with him, he's in love with you too.

you feel it every time his eyes fall on you from across the room. every time his touch lingers on your skin from the simplest of interactions. every time he softens when you’re around. every time you’re alone together and he bites his tongue, swallowing down the words you wish he would say - the words you wish you could tell him yourself.

your voice comes out as a mere whisper. "what are you doing?"

maybe it's because you both have had something to drink. maybe it's just simply liquid courage.

“when are we going to stop pretending that there’s nothing going on between us?” he asks, voice dropping low, husky. it sounds a little vulnerable, just like you.

there’s no point in denying it. the truth is clear as day.

“we can’t,” you say.

“why not?”

“you know why.”

minho sighs, then clenches his jaw before he speaks next, frustration laced into every syllable. “i don’t care what anyone else thinks. i just want you.”

“min-”

“fuck,” he interrupts, leaning his forehead to rest against yours, his fingers holding onto your waist more tightly. “i love you.”

you place a hand on his chest, meaning to push him away but then you find his heartbeat under your palm instead, hammering against his chest like it wants to escape from his body.

in a split second of weakness, a split second where the logical part of your brain falters, your eyes flicker to his lips.

and minho, ever the sharp observer even in a state of mild inebriation, notices.

“do it,” he mutters, his words a stark contrast to the helpless tone that he says them with. “i dare you.”

a shaky inhale from you, an almost pleading look from him. even when he's practically begging you, he's handing you all control. to say no if that's what you really want. to leave and dismiss everything as just some stupid joke later on, and go back to revolving around each other in secret, like a couple of powerless fools.

your fingers grip his shirt, because goddamn, of course you want it. you've never wanted anything in your entire life more than you want him. you already have one foot in already, half a mind to blow it all the way to hell and deal with the fallout when the time comes.

you catch his eyes once more, and the sincerity in his galaxy shakes you to the core.

fuck it.

you pull him in, obliterating the gap.

i love you, but you’re telling him in a different way.

so, if someone were to ask you again: what is lee minho?

he’s a lot of things. charming, handsome, smart, funny. the person you love, the very one that you can’t have. the answer is pretty much the same.

but most of all, lee minho is devastating.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 24.12.2023]

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ONLY ME: LAW

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "The parent life is definitely exhausting, when your husband can't stand up because the tiredness you need call your friends to get some help. But who would imagine that Law would be jealous because of that?"

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : TRANS MALE! READER, TRANSMASC! READER, PREGNANT MALE! READER, mentions of body dysphoria, mentions of transphobia, mentions of difficult pregnancy, poor communication between parents, exhausted parents, excessive self-demand

꒰ CONTAINS ꒱ : Law trying to be the perfect father and husband, a very cute baby, Sachi and Penguin are the best possible uncles, lots of adult talk about the future and children, Law is jealous but not in the way you think, Bepo is a dog lol, lots of domesticity and family comfort.

꒰ WC ꒱ : 3,1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : So I finally started posting again, I have literally like, 12 stories to post?? Yeah I have a lot of things, then I will try to post them while I finish the ask. You already know, if you aren't one of my female friends please don't interact with this post, besides that enjoy it a lot. Also I'm trying to write some platonic child stories but I don't have any ideas so if someone wants to send some ask I won't deny... But remember I really take a long time to deliver my ask

You slowly opened the door to your apartment while trying to stop Bepo from going out into the hallway with your foot and with your other hand you continued patting Rosi's butt so he could continue sleeping. Sachi and Penguin luckily were quick to notice the situation, Sachi held Bepo on her lap while trying to calm the little furball and Penguin silently entered your apartment smiling at you and the baby wrapped around you in the pink sling with mini hearts that was a gift from your father-in-law who has the same name as your first child.

“Hey” Penguin said softly, approaching the baby and lightly caressing the chubby, rosy cheeks of his nephew who was a mini copy of Law.

“Hey…” You smiled at him as you continued rocking the baby who was sleeping soundly, soon Sachi came back without Bepo in his arms as now the puppy had calmed down and was sitting watching the three of you.

“What problem do you need from the powerful and best uncles in this world?” Sachi smiled confidently and you laughed softly, they were truly the best uncles you could ask for.

“Law is sleeping like a corpse on the couch... He hasn't been sleeping much these last few days and I didn't want to waste it... But I kinda can't get him out of there right now” you laughed as you showed off your baby, it was obvious that you weren't going to manage to take care of your sleeping husband while taking care of your son.

“Don’t worry, we’ve carried them more times than we can count” Sachi shrugged as if that were just any request.

“Yes, totally, he had a bad habit of sleeping in terrible places and we were always forced to carry him like a sack of potatoes” Penguin laughed nostalgically.

“Yeah… Your daddy is a sleepyhead, just like you” Sachi whispered to the baby and stroked his hat, which imitated the same spots on Law's favorite hat.

“Hah… Sleepyhead, you’d be surprised to see him awake for two days in a row…” You sighed tiredly and let the two men go to the couch.

There was Law, your couch wasn't very big since when you bought it it was just the two of you, so Law's huge body could never fit lying there. That's why he was sitting, his head lolling in an uncomfortable way. He was hugging a small pillow and one of Rosi's blankets, since before falling asleep he was rocking the baby while watching some children's cartoons.

The last few days had been a mess, as Law always said, you had done the hardest job of getting pregnant and giving birth to your child and your husband thought it was fair that he took care of absolutely everything else so that you could recover peacefully and not have any postpartum problems, whether physical or mental. That's why he had not only taken paternity leave but used all his vacation to spend as much time as possible taking care of you two, he had also taken responsibility for cleaning the house and even your diet, preparing all your meals to ensure that you ate delicious and healthy things.

Not only that, with your pregnancy it became obvious that the apartment you and Law lived in was too small for the two of you, as well as many negative points for your baby's growth. There were no parks nearby, it was a very busy place and not safe for children, there were no other parents with children to socialize with, there was no daycare or school nearby... It was a great place for singles and couples without children, but when a child entered the equation there were many other things to consider.

That's why Law decided it was a good idea for the two of you to move to a good house where the baby could grow up with everything he was entitled to. Initially the two of you were going to move while you were pregnant, but you had difficulty moving around and especially a lot of emotional problems. You were going through a lot of stress due to having to reduce your hormone therapy and even stop it in the last months of pregnancy for the sake of your child, you were also freaking out about all the prejudice and the process of being a trans man who was pregnant.

There were so many things that were stressing you out about the pregnancy. Whether it was the risk of you not producing enough milk due to having already had surgery on your breasts, whether it was gender dysphoria when seeing your male body having a “feminine” appearance due to pregnancy, or the fact that the pregnancy was technically planned but you getting pregnant earlier than you both expected, which made you extremely nervous about the possibilities of things going wrong, but definitely what irritated you most were people... especially prejudiced ones.

Law could no longer count how many times the two of you went out on the street together and then you were mistaken for a pregnant woman, what made the situation most difficult was that your reactions were extremely unpredictable. You could just shut your face and walk away, you could correct them, you could ignore them or you could just start a fight and yell at the person only to end up crying in Law's arms while having a gender dysphoria episode because you thought no one would ever see you again as a man because of pregnancy.

Due to all this, the doctor decided that it was better to avoid the headache of moving and make you comfortable in a place where you already lived and were well, thanks to this you gradually calmed down and controlled your mood changes better. And honestly regardless of everything bad that was happening, thanks to Law's support you were completely excited about the pregnancy, it was your child, a child that you and Law had made together and planned together to increase your loving family. You were so excited to be a father that regardless of the bad situations, you knew that when you could see your baby's smile and hug him, everything would have been worth it.

As soon as you got pregnant and Rosi was finally with you, Law went back to organizing the move, this time the plan would be to organize as much as possible with the two of you still being in your old apartment even if it cost more money. So when the time to move finally arrived, you would stay at your father-in-law's house, the first Rosinante, while Law got the house ready as quickly as possible so that you would just need to arrive and enjoy. The place he had gotten was incredible, it was a family residence, with parks and entertainment for children, as well as strong security and the entire place was private and closed to provide even more security. Families had children of all ages and it seemed like a good place to raise a child, as well as having a nursery and a prestigious school nearby. It wasn't that far from the city center and since you both had a car it wouldn't be difficult to get wherever you needed to go.

Of course Law was stubborn, he literally forbade you to help with any of the moving, you couldn't even put things in boxes without your husband freaking out and sitting you down as if you were made of glass and could break at any moment. You weren't extremely complaining but you were already getting worried about his health, mainly because it was obvious how tired he was getting, so when he fell soundly asleep during the middle of the day, you saw the perfect opportunity to get him a little treat. .

“Time for work” Sachi stretched and soon the two were in front of the sofa as they considered the best way to get the tall man out of there “Take the legs, I'll take the arms” he said to Penguin who quickly agreed.

Soon your two friends were carrying your husband and if you didn't know that the two of them were really strong you would be worried that they would knock Law down and break his back... That wasn't already in the best condition. It didn't take long for them to return after putting him to bed and closing the door to the room you shared with him, ensuring that you could make a little more noise without worry.

“What now boss?” Penguin asked with a smile, Law was their superior at the hospital and they used that nickname as a joke, but as soon as Trafalgar introduced you, everyone on the team adopted that same nickname saying that you were now the boss since even the rude doctor obeyed you like a puppy .

“I thought you could watch Rosi for just a little bit… I wanted to try and make a homemade dinner for Law, he hasn't let me cook for so long” You sighed tiredly and carefully began to unroll the sling so your baby could be free.

“No problem, we love taking care of mini Law” Sachi laughed and his face lit up at the idea of squeezing his nephew a little.

As soon as you hinted you passed Rosi to Sachi who held him carefully the baby started to move and was soon crying, which left the man in sunglasses with a shocked face and a broken heart.

“I told you you weren’t the favorite uncle…” Penguin teased as Sachi whimpered and handed the baby to you.

“Rosi… You don’t want to collaborate with daddy today, do you?” You sighed as you rocked your baby and tried to calm him down, your son clung to you and had an uncomfortable face.

Your two friends exchanged looks and smiled knowingly, they could see your tired face and even how you walked slower, Law wasn't the only one who was tired. If they know you well, and of course they did, they knew that while Law was burdened with taking care of everything for you, you were also overwhelmed with taking care of Rosi alone as much as possible for fear of leaving more work to Law. In the end you two were taking care of a lot of things alone trying to alleviate it for the other instead of working together and not exhausting each other too much.

“Right… And if we do it like this, I cook and this blockhead makes peace with the little boy in the meantime you take a very hot shower” Penguin smiled placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, Rosi had calmed down now and it looked like he had just had a nightmare but he had quickly gone back to sleep .

“Ah, no need, I don’t want to give you trouble” You tried to disagree gently, knowing that not everyone liked taking care of babies and you didn’t want your friends to feel obligated to do so.

“Man, trust me, you need to sleep as much as Law does” Sachi said while stealing the baby from his arms, this time he didn't cry and continued sleeping peacefully “Look, you two are stubborn and hard-headed, Law is killing himself to relieve things for you and you're killing yourself to make things easier for him” he said with a shrug.

“In short, you two need to rest and start sharing your problems or soon Rosi will be an orphan because both of his dads had a heart attack due to stress” Penguin laughed, crossing his arms as he looked at you, with that look that said you wouldn't manage to convince them otherwise.

“And I would definitely be the uncle who would adopt him, like Spider-Man, but without the part where I die” Sachi said laughing mockingly and you laughed.

“Okay… Thanks guys, being a father is crazy” You stretched your neck.

“We imagine, but don’t worry, you and Law are being the best parents possible, Rosi is very lucky” Penguin assured you “Now go take a shower because you stink!” He said pushing you into the hallway.

“Hey! I don’t stink!” You protested but didn't turn away from the direction of the bathroom.

Hours later you were on the couch in your pajamas while eating pasta with meat and vegetables made by Penguin, Rosi was in his automatically rocking crib, an extremely expensive gift from your father-in-law, while he was extremely entertained by the multicolored toy in his little hands. That's when Law finally woke up and came out of the room looking for you, he was a real mess and all you could do was laugh.

His clothes were wrinkled and his hair looked like a wild forest, his face was also a little wrinkled from sleeping rough and it was obvious that he was still a little confused and asleep, but at least he seemed a lot more relaxed than before. He yawned as he walked towards her, he stopped in front of Rosi who mumbled something incomprehensible upon seeing his father after so long, he gave the baby a small kiss on the forehead and caressed his chubby cheeks, then sat down next to him on the sofa. .

You placed your bowl of pasta on the coffee table and opened your arms, an invitation that Law quickly accepted and soon he was hugging you lovingly as he laid his head on your chest, giving you the perfect chance to stroke his black curls.

"What happened?" He asked in a hoarse voice.

“You slept on the couch while taking care of Rosi, so I decided to call Penguin and Sachi to take you to bed” you said and gave Law a small kiss on his hair, inhaling his scent for a few seconds.

“Shit, sorry, I just blinked a little and must have fallen asleep, it was my turn to take care of Rosi, wasn’t it?” He said frustrated and irritated with himself, he had always put too much pressure on himself and now the pressure had increased when he became a father.

“Law it's okay, you're tired, I'm tired, we're extremely tired” you laughed “I'm sure Rosi won't hate you because you fell asleep by accident, besides those two were very helpful in helping me and taking care of me and his so you could get some sleep” you assured your husband to ensure that your insecurities and excessive demands slowly went away.

“I don't like it when other people take care of you, I'm your husband, that's my job” He murmured irritably and hid in your neck, hugging you tighter.

“Well, then you, as my jealous husband, need to sleep and rest a lot to have enough energy to take care of me and your sleeping baby” you laughed too, hugging him tighter.

“I’m not jealous, I just want to be a good father and husband” he looked at you and you knew he was serious.

“And you are, the most perfect father and husband in the entire world” You said lovingly and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, making Law hum in happiness, loving receiving some of his affection.

“Okay… I can settle for that” He chuckled and sat up, stretching his body “I didn't think I needed to sleep that much, but I actually feel better now.”

“I know, these days have been crazy… You know, Penguin and Sachi gave me some advice” you thought it was a good time to talk and try to reach an agreement that would make your new life less suffocating and exhausting.

“Those two idiots?” Your husband arched an eyebrow at you, curious and wary of whatever his friends had said.

“Yes… But they are right, you don’t must take care of this all alone Law, you need to share this with me, you are taking care of the move alone and you still want to take care of me and Rosi, you are going to explode at any time” you said worriedly and placed a hand on his.

“I don't want to overwhelm you... You've already dealt with too much, the transition, the pregnancy, the birth, stupid people... I know that pregnancy and the first years of a baby's life are the most tiring for those who have given birth... I just didn’t want you to go through all of this being hell” He sighed and looked at you lovingly “I wanted to try to make it easier for you… That way you could enjoy it with Rosi and recover from everything without any problems.”

“I know, and I love you for being so perfect and careful with me, but we are a family now Law, husband and husband, remember? In health, in sickness, for richer or for poorer... Just as you want to take care of me, I want to take care of you” you smiled and leaned your head on Law's shoulder “So let me help with whatever I can, if we do together we will be less tired and then we can both enjoy Rosi's first years together, I don't want to have all the good times alone, I want to have them with you.” You said as you took his hand so your data could intertwine.

“I'll try... I don't want to miss any of this either... Thank you for giving me this chance to make you happy” He smiled and kissed your forehead.

You sighed in relief knowing that no matter the situation you and your husband would always understand each other and be able to find a solution that worked for both of you, even with all the exhaustion of raising children, you knew that you would both work together to do the best you could. without fainting from tiredness.

“How can I make it up to you for being a stubborn husband?” Law asked, laughing.

“Hmm… Maybe with a few hugs and kisses I’ll forgive you” you laughed snuggling into him.

Before Law could respond, Rosi started making noise and trying to get the two of you's attention, he stretched his little hands towards you and made as many sounds as he knew and could as if he was trying to catch you and say ‘pay attention to me!’.

“Oh, looks like someone else missed daddy and wants more kisses” you giggled at your adorable baby.

“Alright, I can handle two little needy men” Law smiled and soon a bark was heard and the next thing you know Bepo was on the ground shaking his fast furiously and looking at you with the best puppy dog eyes he had “Three little needy men” Law concluded.

[ap41cu5]

ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US (lars pinfield fan!!!!) if you’re still taking requests, could you possibly do one where lucky teases lars on his obvious crush on the reader/character? and reader/character picks up on his nervousness and awkwardness?? sorry if it’s a bit vague. remember to take care of urself and thank you in advance <3 :)

Stifled

Lars Pinfield x Fem! Reader Rating: Slight NSFW - Suggestive Themes Genre: Fluff Word Count: 2464

A/N: thanks so much for your request anon! i really hope this is what you were looking for. ive noticed im struggling to write him completely in character, but i did my best! i hope you enjoy <3

“Oh, please. You totally do! There’s no point in denying it anymore!” You heard Lucky exclaim from the other room before she was hastily hushed.

“Would you keep your voice down!?” Lars seethed as he attempted to hush Lucky. 

You were quite literally just one step away from the door, but clearly you were about to walk in on a conversation you weren’t supposed to be hearing.

At first the plan was to come back later, but the next thing you heard immediately motivated you to stay. While you normally weren’t the type to eavesdrop, maybe just today you’d listen for just a few seconds longer.

“Well, it’s not like it matters anyway! You always get so nervous and uptight around her. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you hated her,” Lucky commented.

Who are they talking about? 

Shooting her a glare, he refused to answer and only turned back toward his desk.

“Don’t you have work to be doing?” He irritatedly asked, his tone making it clear that he wanted her to leave.

Lucky hopped onto one of the tables, “why? You want me to go so that you’ll both get some precious alone time once she gets back?” Lucky teased him, a smug grin plastering across her face.

Lars has a crush. The realization struck you right in the gut, one of your hands clutching the side of your uniform. 

You couldn’t help the fact that you liked him. There was something about his high intelligence, his attentiveness to detail, and occasional sass that drew you to him, despite him always acting standoffish whenever you were around. 

The possibility of him catching feelings for someone else broke your heart. You couldn’t stand the thought of him being with someone who wasn’t you.

“Alright, fine, I’ll go. But I can already smell the look on your face once she gets back!” Lucky giggled on her way out the door.

You immediately began to panic. You could hear her footsteps rapidly growing closer, and there was nowhere to hide in the sector of the lab you were in. So you took the only choice you had and tried to walk through the door as casually as you could muster.

Taking a quick deep breath in and walking in through the door, you were immediately met with Lucky’s face just inches away from yours.

An awkward split second passed where you both just stared at each other before she finally said, “(First Name)! Funny seeing you here!” She raised her voice, making sure Lars could hear her.

“I work here,” you chuckled, “I just got back from my lunch break.” You held up a paper bag containing your leftovers.

She animatedly nodded, “I see, I see. Well, I’ll catch you later, (First Name)!” She slipped past you, “have fun, Lars!”

She gave Lars a knowing look as she walked off, shooting you a quick wink as well.

Lucky was always energetic and cheerful, but she carried a much more playful attitude than usual. Your interest piqued, especially given the previous conversation they had. 

You placed your lunch bag down onto your desk as you turned your head to look at Lars. The moment you looked over, you saw his head shift back down to his desk, as though he was already looking at you. Part of you immediately pondered what that look could have possibly meant, but you tried not to overthink it. He probably wanted to see who was approaching, as if Lucky somehow hadn’t made it obvious enough. But you tried not to overthink it. Last thing you’d want would be to get your hopes up only to get shattered once you found out who it was that Lars truly had feelings for.

Despite all of your jumbled thoughts and feelings, you felt a bit bored. You finished the majority of your experiments earlier. You had astute problem solving abilities, but Lars was the one case you just couldn’t crack. 

You just couldn’t understand why he hated being around you so much. You were almost always nice, polite, and sweet. And every morning for the past couple of months, you’d arrive at work with a fresh cup of coffee sitting atop of your desk. He had taken the time to memorize how you liked your coffee, and that had to mean something, didn’t it? He couldn’t hate you that much, could he?

Approaching his desk, wandering eyes took a curious peek at what he was working on.

“How’s your experiment coming along?” You asked from over his shoulder.

He immediately seemed to be startled by your presence. The contraption he had been so carefully inspecting clattered to the ground as he flinched, hastily spinning around to face you.

You couldn’t tell if you were imagining it, or if his eyes seemed to soften just for the ephemeral moment they met yours. His expression quickly went from surprised to a mix of embarrassment and fear. A notably unfamiliar expression from him.

“What do you want?” He awkwardly cleared his throat before quickly turning back around.

Just for a second could you see a soft hint of blush tinting his cheeks as he made a clear effort not to look at you. But what did it mean? Why was he so nervous all of the sudden?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you meekly apologized. “You seem a bit uptight. Is everything okay?”

He huffed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sure,” you replied, sarcasm evident in your voice.

“Maybe you’re just more annoying than usual,” he spat, giving you the cold shoulder.

You sighed at his unsurprisingly cold response.

“Have I done something?” You asked, feeling a bit remorseful.

He seemed to tense up all over again at the question as he fumbled with whatever tool he had in his hand at the moment.

“No, everything’s fine. There’s something I must tend to,” he paused for a half second, presumably to come up with a place. “In the bathroom.”

A few seconds passed where you couldn’t find the words to respond. He’d been acting so awkward lately, more awkward than usual.

“...In the bathroom?” You reiterated, unsure if you really heard him correctly.

“Yes– yes, in the bathroom. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he hastily set down the tool, the other gadget he was holding fumbling out of his grip and clattering onto the surface of his desk.

His boots squeaked against the tile flooring of the lab as he made a beeline down the hallway to the restroom. 

You couldn’t help but feel a bit heartbroken. The way he acted so disgusted with you to the point where he couldn’t even stand being in the same room as you made you sick.

“Gee, what’s his deal, am I right?” You heard a voice emerge from behind you.

“Oh, hey Gary,” you greeted him, unable to hide the pain in your voice.

“Agh, don’t sound so disappointed!” He gave your arm a light pat as he crunched on an apple, “seems like he’s like that with everyone. If you ask me, though, I get the feeling he likes you too.”

You scoffed, almost laughing at his response.

“I highly doubt that, Gary. You saw how he acted around me. It’s like he hates me, or something!” You groaned into the palms of your hands like a petulant teenager.

He leaned closer to your ear, “let’s keep this between us, but for him to get all awkward and riled up like that? That’s gotta mean something. Take it from me, he likes you.”

You sighed. While he did sound convincing, you really didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“Yeah, I guess so. I hope you’re right,” you replied, until it finally dawned on you.

“Wait, how did you know I liked him?” You asked, brows furrowing.

He wheezed in response, nearly choking on a bit of his apple.

“Well, shit, is everyone in this lab oblivious, or what?” He chuckled, “trust me, though! I’m a guy. I know how guys act. I mean, he brings you coffee every morning, for Pete’s sake.”

“That’s exactly what makes him so confusing! He took the time out of his day to memorize how I like my coffee, and yet every time I try to talk to him he acts like– he acts like I’m some sort of pest!” You couldn’t tell if you were angry or sad, probably both.

“That’s what I’m telling you! He just doesn’t know how to act around you.” He took another bite of his apple, “I’ve gotta go help Trevor with something back at the firehouse. I’ll catch you later, (First Name),” Gary took his leave, making his way down the hall.

You sat back down at your desk, sinking into your chair as his words replayed in your head. Was it really true? Could it be possible that the person Lucky was teasing Lars about just before your arrival– was it you?

After what seemed to be a few more minutes, Lars finally returned to the bathroom and began working on his usual projects. You decided to leave him alone, sinking into your own work, or at least trying to. But you couldn’t help the fact that Lars was living rent free in the back of your mind, hindering your focus at every opportunity.

Looking back down at your paper, you finally came to terms with the fact that no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn’t be able to get any work done until you found out the truth. No matter how painful that truth may be.

“Lars?” You called out, turning in your chair.

“What is it this time?”

You huffed, part of you wondering if you should have just taken that response as an answer in itself.

“Why do you hate me so much?” The question came out sounding far more vulnerable than you intended.

He sighed, one of his hands messily making its way through his hair.

“I don’t,” there was a painfully long pause, “hate you.”

That response in itself was enough to surprise you. But you wanted more.

“I don’t understand.” you replied. “You avoid me at almost every chance you get, and you’re always mean to me. You bring me coffee every morning and yet every time I try to get closer to you, you push me away.”

You heard him groan, his head in his hands as he exasperatedly threw his head back. 

“You’re intolerable,” he said. “I hate the way that you bite the tip of your pen, I hate how you twirl your hair around your fingers, I hate your stupid sense of humor, I hate–” 

You were about to open your mouth and you weren’t sure if you were about to tell him to go fuck himself or that you hated him just as equally. Neither of which you would’ve actually meant, but you could feel yourself grow hurt, angry, and confused all at the same time with every word he said.

He seemed to contemplate whether or not to continue, “I hate how beautiful you are without even trying! Do you know how hard it is to focus whenever you’re near me?”

Oh.

It all made sense now. You felt your fists unclench and timed seem to slow down as your brain needed time to process what he just said.

Your legs seemed to move on their own as you approached Lars’ tense form. His hands clutched either side of his desk as his head hung low.

“Lars–” your voice was low and gentle.

“Please don’t say anything,” he pleaded. “I know you must be repulsed by me and that’s no one’s fault but my own–”

You’re not sure what came over you, but you quickly tilted his head towards you, standing on your tippy toes as you pressed your lips against his. His breath seemed to get caught in the pit of his throat as he stood completely frozen.

You quickly pulled away the moment you didn’t feel him kiss back, “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked–”

Your apology was quickly interrupted by the feeling of his hands tenderly gripping the sides of your face as he pulled you back in for another kiss. One of his arms wrapped around your waist and gently pressed your body up against his, a low grumble escaping his chest.

Your tongue gently grazed his bottom lip, requesting an entrance as you felt him exhale against you. He melted into you as he pressed your back against the front of his desk, one of his legs finding their way in between your thighs. Your hands made their way into his soft blonde curls, gently tugging on them as he let out another groan. Your bodies felt like they were melting into one other, like you belonged with each other. 

“Do you have any idea how painfully irresistible you are?” He grumbled into your skin, his lips pressing against the lower part of your jaw.

You sharply inhaled through your teeth. The feeling of him kissing down your neck sending a shiver down your spine.

“I hadn’t realized you were so pent up,” you replied, nails digging into the back of his uniform.

“Spent so many late nights where you were all I could think about. You have no idea how frustrating that was, do you?” his leg pressed against you, making you squirm.

“Why d’you think I kept trying to get closer to you? I love looking at your stupidly handsome face,” you murmured, licking your lips and going in to kiss him again.

“That right?” his head was tilted as his teeth sunk down on your lower lip.

“It is,” you felt yourself growing needy.

“Ahem!”

The sound of someone loudly clearing their throat could be heard throughout the lab as you both quickly pulled away from each other. Eyes darting to the source of the nose, you were both met by sight of Winston standing in the doorway.

“I was about to congratulate the both of you on your latest findings, but it seems like the two of you are.. busy right now.” He bore an awkward expression, “look, I’ll come back another time. But please not in the lab. That’s disgusting.”

You awkwardly chuckled, “yeah, no. Of course. That’s– we’re at work that would be so unsanitary. And gross. We would never–” Lars had to interrupt your awkward rambling by giving you a quick nudge.

Winston gave the both of you an awkward nod as he quickly walked off.

“Would you want to get takeout on the way home? I can drive you,” Lars meekly suggested.

You couldn’t fight the smile that pricked at the sides of your mouth, “that sounds lovely, Lars.”