#this was the only gif i could find of one lol

[charmedimsure]

THE NEXT EPISODE || thanos

pairing: Thanos/Choi Su-bong x f!reader

summary: You and Su-bong reunite after his stay at rehab. No debt/no games AU.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: rehab, drinking, drugs, addiction, depression

A/N: i've been working on this for like two weeks and i still feel like i could work on it more. i love this mini series i made and i'm excited to see how other people like it :) if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 1: Wake Up Call

Today is the big day. The day Su-bong has been working towards for the past six months.

Today he gets out of rehab.

He originally tried to quit on his own, but after multiple relapses, he decided he needed help. Due to his multiple addictions and how long he's been addicted for, the doctors at the facility suggested a longer stay for him, to which he agreed.

Before he left, he gave you the keys to his apartment, putting you in charge of managing the place while he's away. You also promised to get rid of anything in his apartment that could potentially be abused.

Rehab had actually not been bad. It certainly wasn't easy, but Su-bong felt better about it knowing there were so many other people there going through the same thing as him. He had ended up making some really good friends there, friends that he was excited to see again once they all got out. A few of them had made plans to meet up at a coffee house soon, about a week after Su-bong is released.

The thing Su-bong has been looking forward to the most while in rehab is seeing you again. The only visitors that were allowed were family members, so he had to settle for just talking to you on the phone.

"Can I see you soon?" Su-bong asks into the phone.

"I have to work today, but I'm off tomorrow if you want to come by?" you say. "Oh, and I left something for you on your counter."

Su-bong smiles into the phone. "You didn't have to do that."

"Don't get too excited, it's not much," you laugh. "But I just wanted to give you something to congratulate you."

"I'll be happy with anything you give me," he says.

"Cheesy," you groan, making him laugh. A small gasp comes from Su-bong's phone. "Shoot, my boss just texted me I have to go in early. I'm sorry, I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"

"All good," Su-bong says. "Yeah, I'll text you. Let me know when you get to the club and back home safe."

"I will," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'll see you tomorrow."

<>

Su-bong walks into his apartment. A chill washes over him. It's been so long since he was here, and he's changed so much. He puts his things down, walking into his kitchen.

A feeling of dread fills him. Was six months enough? Is he really able to do this?

A glint catches his eye, and he sees a small chain sitting on his counter. Attached to it is a dog tag. He picks it up, examining it. When he notices a clasp on the side of the dog tag, he opens it, revealing a small note in your handwriting.

'I'm proud of you <3'

A comfortable warmth fills his body as he smiles at your note. He closes the tag, immediately putting the chain around his neck.

He looks around his place. It holds way too many memories of his time before rehab. Waking up with a headache so bad he's worried his head might implode, turning over to see some random girl in his bed who's name he can't remember. That's not how he wants to live anymore.

He takes a water bottle from the fridge, which you must have put in there for him, and sits on his couch, looking up listings for available apartments. Preferably one close to you.

<>

Su-bong feels his heart race as he stands in front of your apartment door. He's been waiting for this moment for six months. With a deep breath, he knocks on the door.

Footsteps are heard from the other side of the door. Something makes a loud bang and he hears you curse, making his lips twitch upwards.

The door opens and there you are. He swears you've only gotten more beautiful since he last saw you.

"Woah, I almost didn't recognize you," you smile.

He smiles, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. He hadn't dyed his hair since before rehab, leaving it at its natural dark brown. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot."

"I like it," you say. "You look much more like Su-bong."

He feels his face heat up, muttering a shy 'thank you'.

You step to the side, opening the door wider. "Come in! I'll go grab a snack."

Su-bong walks into your apartment, a smile playing on his face at the familiar set up. You move to the kitchen and he sits on your couch. He chuckles at the new blanket laying next to him, clearly having been used recently.

He looks up as you walk back into the room, placing a bowl of pretzels and a bottle of blue Gatorade on the coffee table in front of him. You remembered.

He gestures toward the blanket. "That new?"

You put a pretzel in your mouth and smile at him, nodding enthusiastically. "My mom got it for me. You have to feel it, it's so soft." He chuckles as you cover your mouth with your hand, too excited to tell him about the blanket to wait until you've swallowed your food.

He reaches out to the blanket, eyes widening when his fingers graze the fabric. "Holy shit."

"Right?!" you laugh, picking up the blanket and sitting down. You toss it over both of your legs. You take a moment to study his face. "You look really good, Su-bong."

He feels himself blush, turning away in embarrassment. "Yeah, my pupils are finally the correct size."

You laugh at the comment. "Yes, that. But you also just look much healthier. Much happier."

He nods. "I feel happier. I thought I was happy all those nights at the club, drinking away my life. But now I know that wasn't real happiness." He looks at you, looking deep into your eyes. "This is real happiness."

Now it's your turn to look away, feeling heat rush to your face. "I'm glad. You deserve happiness."

He smiles.

"Even though you once tried to pay me to take off my shirt."

Su-bong cringes, bringing his hand to his face as you laugh. "Can you please stop bringing that up?"

You shake your head. "No way. This is the punishment you get for that. Me making fun of you. I think it's a fair exchange."

He laughs. "Fair enough."

You continue talking for the next hour or so, telling each other about everything and nothing. Su-bong's heart soars every time he is able to make you laugh. He's made music his entire life, but no song could ever compare to the sweet tune of your laughter.

"On Sunday I'm gonna meet up with a few friends from rehab at that new coffee place around the corner," he says. "Do you want to come?"

You shake your head. "Thank you for the invitation but I don't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding," he assures. "I, uh, talked about you a lot and they really want to meet you."

Your face heats up at his admission, nodding. "In that case, I'd love to go."

He smiles. "Good."

You put on a movie to watch, saying you saw one while he was away and couldn't wait to show it to him. Throughout the movie, Su-bong sneaks glances at you. He's wanted you ever since he first laid his eyes on you. You were the hot bartender with a fiery personality.

Now, though, as he watches you chew your lip in concentration, he sees just how amazing you truly are. You're the beautiful girl who changed his life for the better. The amazing girl who gave him a reason to become a better person. The kind girl who talked on the phone with him every day while he was in rehab.

You're his best friend. And he's deeply in love with you.

<>

Su-bong opens the door to the coffee house, letting you walk inside first before entering as well.

"Hey, Su-bong!" a voice yells, getting his attention. He smiles when he sees his friends, waving at them. He motions for you to follow him as you head over to the table.

"Hey guys," he greets, giving each of them a small hug. It feels nice to see them on the outside. They all accomplished the same thing, and they'll forever be close for doing it together.

He looks to you. "Oh right. This is Jung-su, Shin-il, and Ji-hae."

Each of them wave and smile at you as he says their names. Once he introduces you, they all seem to get a similar look on their faces.

"Oh, so you're the girl he keeps talking about," Shin-il smirks. Su-bong lightly smacks his arm, making the boy laugh.

"Shin-il, be quiet!" Ji-hae rolls her eyes. She turns to you. "He told us about how you helped him get sober. We're glad he had someone so supportive helping him."

You smile. "I just wanted to help any way I could. He's the one who ultimately chose to get help." You smile at him and he feels his heart melt. "And I'm glad he was able to make some great friends in there, from what he's told me."

"Aw, you talked about us?" Jung-su flashes Su-bong with puppy eyes, making the ladder roll his own.

"Plus, now he doesn't call me 'Señorita' anymore, so really I got something out of it too," you say.

The table bursts out in laughter and Su-bong hides his face behind his hands. "Maybe it was a mistake bringing you here, I didn't realize you were all going to gang up on me."

You laugh, rubbing his arm. "I'm just kidding. Come on, let's go get something to drink."

You move to stand but he puts a hand on your shoulder. "I got it. What do you want?"

You tell him your order, thanking him as he walks to the counter.

Ji-hae leans across the table to you. "He really likes you, you know," she smiles. "Talked about you all the time."

You smile. "He's a really great guy. I wish I could've talked to him sooner, maybe he would've gotten help sooner. He's my best friend now."

"You should go out with him," she says. "Based on how he talked about you, he'd treat you right."

You turn to look at Su-bong, smiling as he rocks back and forth on his feet while waiting in line.

"I do like him," you say, turning back to Ji-hae. "I just want to give him some time first. He just got out of rehab, I feel like he should have some time to figure out what he really wants and adjust to sobriety, if that makes sense."

"Totally," Jung-su says, nodding his head. "I've been out two months now and I still feel like this is all new."

"Just please be there for him," Shin-il asks.

You nod. "I'm not going anywhere."

On the other side of the coffee house, while waiting for your drinks, Su-bong feels a hand grasp his shoulder.

"Holy shit man," a familiar voice says behind him. "You dropped off the face of the earth!"

Su-bong turns to see the smiling face of Nam-gyu.

"Where have you been, dude?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to answer but is cut off when Nam-gyu continues.

"You know what, it doesn't matter." He pulls a small bag out of his jacket pocket. "I just got some new shit. It's fucking insane, man. You gotta try it."

He stares at the pills. This is the first time that drugs have been so accessible to him since before rehab. A cold sweat breaks out and his breath gets quicker. It would be so easy. All he'd have to do is pop one little pill.

He turns back to look at the table. You're sitting there, laughing with Jung-su. The sound flows to his ears and a soft smile graces his face. The sweat stops and his breathing goes back to normal.

He doesn't need pills anymore. He has you. And you make him so much happier than pills ever have or ever will.

He turns back to Nam-gyu, straightening his posture. "No, I don't do that stuff anymore."

Nam-gyu gives him a look. "Are you kidding, dude? You can't get this shit anywhere, and you're turning it down? What the fuck happened to you, Thanos?"

"It's Su-bong, actually," he says.

"No more Thanos!? What's going on?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to respond, but is beaten by another voice.

"Nam-gyu, leave him alone, please," you say, putting a hand on Su-bong's shoulder as you step beside him.

Nam-gyu looks between the two of you before a knowing smile spreads on his face.

"Oh, I see," he says. "So this is the guy you've been calling all the time." The barista calls out his name and he takes his cup. "Knew it was only a matter of time before you two got together, I should've bet on it." He turns, walking toward the door. "I'll see you at work!"

You wave to him as he leaves, turning to Su-bong. "Are you okay? He didn't give you anything, did he?"

He shakes his head. "He offered, but I said no. I was expecting him to be a lot less understanding."

"I've been talking to him the past few months at work, turns out he's not bad when he's not constantly sticking his nose up someone else's ass," you say, making Su-bong laugh. His name is called and you take the cups from the barista, thanking them before handing Su-bong's drink to him, taking his hand and leading him back to the table.

"Welcome back, Señorita," Shin-il smirks.

The table bursts out in laughter again and Su-bong stands from the table, waving goodbye to everyone. You grab his wrist before he can get too far, laughing along with him as he sits back down next to you.

<>

It's been about five months since Su-bong got out of rehab. He's been doing very good, resisting every time he feels even the slightest temptation.

He's gotten back into music and is working on his next album, which is going to be the first he's releasing that's not under the name "Thanos", instead rebranding as Choi Su-bong. You're of course his biggest supporter and he plays you all of his songs to get your opinion. You've even helped on a few songs, and he plans on crediting you as a co-writer.

Remembering what you told him nearly a year ago, he surprised you one day with your own guitar, taking the time to teach you how to play. You're still learning, but he loves everything you play, nearly as much as he loves your laugh whenever you play the wrong note.

You've been dancing around each other for the past few months, both aware of your feelings, but liking what you have going on between you for now. As time passes, though, Su-bong can feel himself getting closer to the edge, ready to take the leap.

One day you're both sitting in Su-bong's new apartment when he turns to you.

"Hey," Su-bong says. You look up from your phone at him. "I uh, I want to play something for you, if that's okay."

You smile, locking your phone and putting it face-down on the couch. "Yeah, I'd love that."

He stands up and reaches his hand out towards you. You take it, standing as he leads you to his piano. He sits on the bench, making room for you to sit beside him.

"I actually wrote this for you," he says, shyly looking at you. You smile at him, giving him a nod of encouragement. With a deep breath, he begins playing the notes before singing.

"I text a postcard sent to you Did it go through? Sending all my love to you You are the moonlight of my life every night Giving all my love to you."

You feel your eyes start to water as you listen to the words. His words reflect exactly how you feel, put in a way that makes it more beautiful than anything you could say to him.

You've heard him sing more ties than you can count. But sitting here next to him, listening as he pours his heart out to you, you don't think any song will ever compare.

"With every breath that I am worth Here on Earth I'm sending all my love to you So if you dare to second guess You can rest Assured that all my love's for you."

Su-bong puts his entire heart into the song. He had started writing it on the piano they had at the rehabilitation center. He had written a few songs while he was there, but this one was specifically inspired by you. The lyrics were from notes he would write down while talking to you, things that came to his head as your sweet voice drifted through the speaker of his phone.

"My beating heart belongs to you I walked for miles till I found you I'm here to honor you If I lose everything in the fire I'm sending all my love to you."

He stops playing, bringing his arms to his sides. He slowly looks up at you. "You've done so much for me. I don't think I can ever pay you back, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying if you'll let me."

A tear escapes your eye. You sniffle, nodding your head.

Su-bong reaches out to cup your cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. He looks down to your lips before looking back up to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

He leans forward, closing his eyes as his lips make contact with yours. Su-bong has kissed girls before, more than he'd like to admit, but he feels like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time.

This is a moment nearly a year in the making. All of his longing for you, his adoration of you is put into the kiss.

He pulls back, regaining his breath as he looks over your face. Your kiss-swollen lips are just begging to be kissed again, but there's something that needs to be done first.

"I love you," he says. "I've loved you for a long time. You're the most amazing person I've ever met and there's nothing I want more than to be with you."

You smile at him, and he feels starstruck by how beautiful you are. "I love you too, Su-bong," you say. "I'm forever grateful that you showed me the real you that day in my apartment. Because I love the real you. So much."

Su-bong's face lights up in a smile, leaning forward to capture your lips again in an awkward kiss that makes you both laugh.

All his hard work is paying off. He is finally worthy of happiness. He is finally worthy of you. And he's going to spend every day making sure he stays worthy.

Song: Last Night on Earth by Green Day

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a @sawlover353 @jspidey5 @skywalker0809 @zannispppp @lianobody

Pt 2 tags: @dweeebazoid @apookalypse @jxsibat @fallout-girl219 @senorittaaaa

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Just Ask Me

Summary: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x fe!Reader -> Hangman is used to getting what he wants, so what happens when he doesn't get you?

Disclaimer: Softer moments, Dagger Squad being a family, Hangman being taught a lesson or two though, Reader is Phoenix's best friend, Jake and Reader find common ground, getting lost in the store. Mentions of bullying and shitty friends but Jake helps out. Light swearing. Kinda a strangers/unlikely friends to lovers situation.

It was no secret Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin always got what he wanted. 

He was the best of the best in the air force, he had enough charm to fill an entire mythical city and he wasn’t too bad on the eyes, either. 

So, when you rejected him it was safe to say he didn’t know what to do. 

Of course, he’d been rejected before. But that was mostly in moments where he wasn’t actually trying. Maybe a quick ‘hey’ and a smile at a bar and there was a chance the girl would walk away. But leading you into a conversation, giving you his best smile and receiving one in return…

He’d never been rejected at that point. 

“No, thank you.”

Jake faltered for a moment. 

Nobody had ever been that polite in rejecting him, either. 

“But can I help you with anything else?”

Jake shook his head. “N-No, ma’am. Have a nice night.”

You smiled. “You, too.”

Jake kept looking back at you as he walked back to the rest of the Dagger Squad. 

“What’s the matter, Bagman? Crash and burn?” Phoenix asked. 

Jake didn’t say anything. Just walked back and sat on the edge of the pool table, his eyes still on you. Then he felt himself laugh; mostly because he was confused. 

“Yeah.”

Phoenix smiled, holding out her hand to Rooster. “Hand it over.”

Reluctantly, Rooster slapped a twenty dollar bill into her hand. “How do I keep losing to you?”

Phoenix examined the crisp bill. “Because I’m just better.”

Rooster rolled his eyes but Jake’s eyes remained on you. What had he done wrong? 

He’d seen you looking over at the Dagger Squad. You’d even looked in his direction a few times. So, after he went and got his drink, he walked over and struck up a conversation with you. You talked with him. He smiled. You smiled. It was going well. And then…no thank you. 

What had he done wrong?

Pocketing the twenty dollar bill, Phoenix reached for her jacket and handed the pool cue over to Jake. He took it, his eyes still on you. 

What had he done wrong?

“Well, this has been fun, boys, but I’ve got a go.”

Rooster turned to her, Jake finally peeling his eyes away from you. “Where?”

“Meeting a friend.”

“You have friends?” Jake asked her. 

“Funny.” 

However, as Phoenix stepped down and onto the bar floor, she didn’t turn towards the doors. Instead, she walked straight over to you. 

“What’s she doing?”

“I don’t know. Maybe thanking her.”

Jake just rolled his eyes, his entire body suddenly on high alert. But as both Jake and Rooster watched Phoenix with you, they realised rather quickly that this wasn’t your first meeting. 

Then they watched as you packed up your things, throwing your bag over your shoulder. You, and Phoenix, looked directly over at both of them and waved. 

Jake felt a shocked smirk grow on his face as he watched you and Phoenix leave, but Bradley was the first to laugh. 

“Oh, my god.” Bradley clapped him on the back. “She’s never going to let you live it down.”

“Come on, let’s just play.” Jake said as he stood up. But his eyes returned back to you as he did so, watching as you and Phoenix left the bar laughing. 

That’s what he did wrong; he went after Phoenix’s friend. 

And Rooster was right; Phoenix was never gonna let him live it down. 

Jake figured he’d never see you again. He’d never seen you before and Phoenix had never mentioned you so he could only presume you’d come in to visit her. But he did see you again. 

Four days later, just a little after eight in the evening, Jake ran into you. Quite literally. 

Turning round one of the aisles, Jake ran into a shopping cart. 

“Ooh, sorry.”

“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry.”

Looking at who had just ran into your cart, you were met with a familiar face. And he seemed to recognise you, too.

“You…”

Letting yourself relax, you smiled. “Hi, Jake.”

“You know my name?”

“You did introduce yourself and Phoenix has told me a lot about you.”

“All good, I hope?”

You shrugged. “Some stories are more entertaining than others, but…” You saw the flash of panic across his face but then you chuckled. “I’m kidding. I’m Y/n, by the way.”

Stretching over your cart, you held out your hand. He shook it. 

“Nice to finally meet you, I guess.” Jake replied. You laughed a little with a smile, averting your eyes from his for a moment. Jake’s eyes followed yours and landed inside your cart. 

“You throwing a party or something?”

It took a moment for it to click with you. “What? Oh, yeah. No, no. No party. I’m actually- I’ve just moved.”

“Here? To San Diego?”

You hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. Job transfer.”

“That sounds…”

“Stressful?” 

Jake nodded, admitting the truth. “Yeah.”

You nodded, moving your cart out of the way. “Well, it is. But everything is going well so far. Ooh, you wouldn’t know where the bedsheets are? I’ve been in here an hour already and still haven’t come across them.”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, they’re just down here. I’ll take you to them.”

So, walking beside him, he walked you across the store. 

“I feel like I’ve been put in a dryer and then put back on my feet. I have no idea where anything is in this store.”

Jake chuckled. “I felt like that. Each store had a different layout than the ones I was used to. But, you make enough late night runs for a box of pens, you tend to find your way around.”

“Figured it would have been for protein powder or something?”

Jake shrugged. “That, too.”

You felt yourself laugh a little. 

“They’re just down here.”

“Fabulous,” you almost exclaimed as you took in the rows of different materials and colours. 

“You’re probably best getting something light. The days are gonna be heating up pretty soon. It can get cooler at night but cotton is probably gonna be your best friend.”

You nodded. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Scanning the shelves, you picked out a few different ones. However, the final one remained on the top shelf. Then it fell onto its back. 

“Shit.”

“Here.” Lightly pushing the cart out of the way, Jake reached up and pulled it down before handing it to you. 

“Thanks.”

Standing in front of you, Jake smiled. “Anything else I can help with? I mean, I probably know this store like the back of my hand by now.”

Looking up and down the aisle, you made a decision. “Furniture packs?”

Walking backwards, a pleasing smile on his face, Jake extended his arm. “If you will follow me, Ma’am.”

For the next thirty minutes, Jake helped you find everything you were looking for in the store. All the while, you both talked. Swapping a few short stories on how you both came to San Diego, where the best pizza places were, and how you’d met Phoenix. 

By the end, Jake helped you pack up your groceries and walked you back to your car. 

“So she just pushed them into the pool?”

You nodded. “With as much force as she could. They never bullied me again, though. After that, we became inseparable.”

“Well, I can tell you, she hasn’t changed much.” Jake placed one of the bags into the back of your car. “I mean, probably less pool pushing. Though, she probably thought about it during training. But, still.”

You chuckled. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

Finally packing up your car and placing the cart back into the shelter, Jake quickly rounded your car and opened your door before you could reach for the handle. 

You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Here to serve, ma’am.”

You chuckled, rolling down the window as Jake shut your door. 

“Thank you, for your help.”

Leaning on your door, Jake shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

“Guess I’ll see you round?”

Jake nodded, trying to hide his smile. “I guess so. I hope so.”

You smiled. “Goodnight, Jake.”

“Night, Y/n.”

As Jake walked back to his car, he watched as yours rolled away and headed in the opposite direction back down the street. 

Jake saw you again just a few days later when he walked into The Hard Deck. 

You and Phoenix were sitting in one of the booths at the back, talking. The rest of the Dagger Squad were dotted around the place. Some at the bar, some out at the back and some by the pool table. 

And as he walked over to the bar, his eyeline falling back on you as even just the thought of you sent something pounding in his chest, Rooster came and stood beside him. 

“Doesn’t matter how many times you try, Phoenix won’t let you.”

Jake puffed air from his chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bradshaw.”

Rooster just smirked, tracking Jake’s gaze from where it kept flicking across the room. 

“I think you do. Or else you really are as stupid as you look.”

Clapping him on the back once more, Rooster disappeared with his beer bottle towards the pool table. 

“Penny, my dear.”

Paying for his drink, Jake seemed to check himself over. 

“You look handsome.” Penny smiled as she dried a bar glass. 

Jake felt himself laugh a little. What was he doing? You were just a person. And you’d already said no. 

With a little more confidence, Jake headed towards the pool table and took up a cue with Coyote. But after two games, his confidence took a shot when Phoenix stood from the booth and you followed her. 

Both of you lent against the fence barrier and watched as they each moved around the table, taking their shots. 

And each time you were in Jake’s view, he missed his shot. 

“Getting rusty, Hangman?” Bob asked, already having noticed what effect you seemed to have on Jake. 

Glaring at Bob, Jake tried his best to focus on the shot. But there was something still stopping him. So, taking another look at you, Jake saw you looking at him. 

You raised your eyebrows a little, silently questioning him. Then you took a slow drag of your beer. 

Standing up, Jake cleared his throat and avoided the looks from the rest of his squad as he moved around the table. It took him a moment, but he finally made a successful shot. 

That continued for another two rounds until Jake found himself unable to even look at you without his stomach doing enough flips to send him dizzy. 

So, pushing Hangman aside, Phoenix took his cue and the game continued between her and Rooster. 

“How’s the move coming along?” Jake eventually managed to find his voice, though his eyes remained on his feet. 

“It’s…coming.”

Jake looked up at you. “That bad, huh?”

You shrugged. “I’m getting there. It’s just taking a little longer than I thought.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Flatpack furniture with no instructions.”

Jake folded his arms. “But it’s a side table.”

You laughed. “It’s got twenty-six pieces.”

“What?!”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Jake watched you for a moment as your attention went back to Phoenix and Rooster as he beat her. 

“Can’t be better at everything.”

Phoenix laughed. God help Rooster. 

“We’ll see.”

Leaning into Jake, you whispered. “She’s gonna kill him.”

Jake smiled. He knew that to be true. But as they broke in the next game, Jake turned back and looked at you. 

“God, you’re beautiful.” He thought to himself before another set of words left his mouth. 

“I could help you.”

“What?”

“With your furniture. I could help you.” Jake clarified. “I’ve got a couple free days coming up and I’ve got nothing else to do. I could help.”

You peeled back for a moment, your eyes flicking over every inch of his face. You smiled a little. “You’d do that?”

“I know we didn't meet under the most conventional circumstances, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you.”

You studied Jake for a moment. 

“Okay.”

That was how a week later, Jake had turned up at your home with Phoenix in tow. Once she got wind of Jake offering to help you, she’d already given him a warning. 

“I know you like to flirt-”

“I’m not flirting.”

“But she’s my best friend. So, if you hurt her in any capacity, I will end you.”

Jake shifted in his seat. “Duly noted.”

When Phoenix let herself into your home, she called out for you. 

“Upstairs! Please tell me one of you can read Swedish!”

Looking at each other, Jake and Phoenix realised what they’d got themselves in for. 

Three hours later, the three of you were sitting on your office floor figuring out how to build your wall library. 

“How can something have this many pieces?”

“How can two fighter pilots with engineering degrees not know how to build a library?”

Jake sat with the instructions in between his legs, reading back over the pictures. 

“Wait. I think I’ve got it.”

Phoenix sighed before pushing herself up to stand. “Well, while you get a handle on that, I’m gonna order food.”

As she left the room, going into your kitchen to find the menu, you stayed with Jake. 

In the time Phoenix was gone, you and Jake sat feet to feet across from each other and had built the first half of one bookcase. 

“Will it stay?”

Silently both you and Jake prayed that it would hold as you both let go at the same time. Risking it, he shook it a little. But it remained intact. 

“Yes!”

High fiving, you both continued to build the rest. 

“Alright, food’s ordered. I’m gonna pick it up. Are you two gonna be okay while I’m gone?”

You nodded. “We’ll be fine. Ooh, Nat, make sure they give me extra dip this time. They forgot it last time.”

Phoenix took her orders and left. 

“Do you really have enough books to fill this thing?” Jake asked as he fastened some of the screws down. 

“Yep. Is that sad?”

Jake shook his head, which surprised you. Even before you’d met him, the way Phoenix had talked about him made him sound like the only book he’d ever read in his life had probably been in an English class in highschool. Even then, you doubted he’d have actually read it. 

“No, not at all. I think it’s pretty cool.” 

“Do you like to read?”

Jake looked up at you, a light expression on his face. “You sound surprised?”

“Wha- no. No, not surprised. Just…” You tried to search for a word to use. 

“Relax, it’s okay. I get it. I don’t seem like the type who reads.”

“But you are.”

Jake agreed, starting on the second bookcase with your help. 

“Loved reading since I was a kid. Obviously, I preferred books with planes in ‘em but…it was an escape. A world where I didn’t have to sit in class and be given the future profession of office worker.”

You smiled, finding joy in listening to him. There was passion in his voice as he told you about his childhood books. You even found you’d read some of the same ones. 

“I don’t get much time to read now. Mostly, it’s just textbooks.”

“You’re welcome to borrow one, anytime. God knows I have more than I know what to do with.”

Jake smiled, graciously. “Thanks. And, I promise, if I ever borrow one, it will be returned in the condition I found it.”

“Ah, a true book lover.”

Sharing a pleased look, you and Jake stood and started to shift the book cases around the room. And you tried not to get too distracted at the fact he could pick one up on its own. 

Granted, they were light. But you had tried and the best you, or anyone that wasn’t militarily fit, could do was shuffle it along the carpet in increments. 

With Jake holding the ladder steady, you drilled the hook into the wall before he lifted the bookcase back up and you secured it in place. 

By the time you reached the third one, Natasha had opened your front door again. “Got the food! I’ll set it up in the kitchen!”

Hooking it into place, you admired the finished product before carefully walking back down the ladder. 

“You okay?”

“Yep.”

Both of you stood back and admired the empty cases. 

“Just need the shelves.”

“And the books.”

You smiled. “And the books.”

However, it was downstairs where Jake came to learn of how many books you actually owned. 

Midway through eating pizza, you opened up the walk in pantry door and pulled out a cardboard box. 

“Let me help.” Natasha told you, but with strain in your voice you declined. 

“I’ve got it.”

It landed on the counter with a thud. Opening up the folded lid, you were all greeted with the smell of books. 

What followed was another two hours of mapping out shelves and organising books into alphabetical order. Something Jake seemed to do pretty quickly. 

“Not just a pretty face.”

Thanking them a thousand times over for their help, you watched as they drove back to base and you were left to tidy what you could. 

However, the next day you found yourself with a surprise visitor. 

You were midway through rearranging the furniture in your living room when someone knocked on your door. Opening it, you found Jake stood on the other side. 

“Hey.”

“Hey, sorry. I know I should have called-”

“It’s no problem. What’s up?”

Jake looked at his hands nervously. He was holding a box of lightbulbs. 

“I had some extra in my garage and thought you might wanna use ‘em. They’re only collecting dust and it would save you a trip to the store so-”

You smiled. “If you know how to fit them, I’ll happily accept them.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “I would fit them myself but if my family finds out I went near a light socket, I think they might actually send me to my grave.”

Jake laughed, “Why?”

Inviting him in, you closed the door behind him as you explained the story. 

“It happened when I was 12. I was helping my dad change a couple of the lightbulbs in the house and I'd seen him do it enough times that he trusted me to do it myself. Only, each time I did, I kept getting electrocuted.”

“No.”

You nodded. “You’d think it’d be a fluke. Faulty wiring or something. But, dad tried – he did nothing different. But it worked. I touched a bulb and it blew up. I tried again when I was 17 and it happened again. At college, me and my roommates tried. All worked for them and blew up for me.”

“It’s a good job I know how to change a lightbulb then.”

As Jake got to work doing that, you went back to rearranging your living room. However, when he returned, he stood in the hallway for a moment. 

The sofa was at a diagonal in the middle of the living room. The side tables were at opposite ends, and you seemed a little lost. 

“Do I want it to be cosy, or more open?” You asked, out loud. “Open means there’s more airflow, but it also means I’m left with this massive empty space.”

“Why not try it both ways? If you don’t like it, switch it back.”

With his help, you did it both ways. And neither worked. 

And there weren't many ways left for you to arrange your living room. So, you flipped a coin. 

Open it was. 

Finally moving everything back into its place, you and Jake collapsed on the sofa. 

“Who knew moving could be so stressful?”

“More stressful than piloting a plane going a thousand miles an hour?” You asked. 

Jack nodded. “Okay, you’ve got a point. Hey, when do you start your new job?”

“Technically, I already have. I work from home three days a week. Because of the move, I don’t actually have to go into the building until next Wednesday.”

Jake looked at you. “Wanna do something that isn’t rearranging furniture?”

“Yes.”

Standing up, he held his hand out to you. “It requires standing?”

He chuckled. “I’m afraid so. Come on.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Taking his hand in yours, you did your best to ignore the butterflies you felt float along your stomach. But standing almost chest to chest with Jake Seresin made those butterflies go from floating and fluttering their wings to an entire tornado being created. 

“Grab your jacket. Meet me on the porch?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Two minutes later you locked your front door and walked with Jake to his car. Once more, he beat you to your door and opened it up before he closed it for you and walked around to the driver’s seat. 

Twenty minutes passed before he was pulling up outside the Hard Deck. 

“I don’t think it’s open.”

Jake hopped out of the car, as did you. “It’s not.”

“Then why are we here?”

“You’ll see. Follow me.”

Walking up to the door, it opened up and you both walked inside. Anytime you’d been at The Hard Deck, it had been packed to the walls. But at that moment, it was empty. 

“Penny?”

Walking backwards out of a swinging door, Penny came through carrying a heavy box. “Oh, good. You’re here.”

Without warning, she dropped the box into Jake’s arms. Getting a steady grip, he hoisted it a little higher. 

“I’m picking Amelia up from school. They’re hosting an emergency PTA meeting so I might be back late.”

Jake shook his head. “No worries. We can keep the bar going til you get back.”

Penny smiled. “Thank you.”

As Penny grabbed her jacket and left, Jake said nothing but saw the look you gave him. 

“You’ve wrangled me into work?”

Jake shrugged, a shit-eating grin on his face that he was struggling to hide. “Maybe.”

You chuckled and followed him outside to the back deck. “There’s no ‘maybe’ about it.”

Jake shrugged again as he looked out to the sandy beach and the slow beating waves. “Can’t deny it’s a slightly better view, though.”

You looked out at it. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Sitting down on one of the picnic benches, you sat across from Jake whilst he pulled things from the crate. Napkin holders, sauce bottles and salt and pepper shakers. 

And for the next hour, you both sat in the cooling sun filling each one of them. 

“So how long have you been helping Penny?”

“A while now,” he told you. “It started out as an after-work detention.”

You felt a small laugh rise up. He was a grown man being given detention. 

“Oh, no. What did you do?”

“I left my wingman behind. Mav couldn’t get through to me, so he sent me to Penny.”

“And did she?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah. Well, her and Amelia did. Penny told me more about what happened between Mav and Goose.”

“Rooster’s dad?”

Jake nodded. “They flew together but died after an emergency went wrong. Mav was torn up for months. He’s better now, obviously, but…it stays with him. Then Penny made a point to me; I’ve never lost a wingman. I’ve left plenty behind, but I’ve never lost one.”

You screwed the cap onto the salt and pepper before taking another two and filling them. 

“And then the first full day I spent here – before I’d just spent afternoons or late nights. But it was my first full day. Penny got called away to the docks after she dropped Amelia off at the mall; she was meeting friends for her birthday.”

Pushing some more napkins into the holder, Jake packed it back into the crate and moved onto the next.

“Only, an hour later, Amelia came through the front doors with tears streaming down her face.”

Slowing down with the refilling so you could spend longer with Jake, you continued listening to his story. 

“Her friends had ditched her. One of the other girls had turned up and basically took over everything and made sure to leave Amelia out of it. She didn’t want to call her mom and she knew she’d be busy, so she came to the bar.”

The image of Amelia wiping her tears away as quickly as they fell would probably never leave him. Anytime he’d met Amelia she’d been happy – and she’d been practically bursting with fireworks when her mom agreed to let her go to the mall with her friends. 

“That was when things started to change for me.” Jake told you. “Seeing Amelia the way she was. She’d been left behind on her birthday, of all days. And not one of her friends called her.”

“They didn’t know she’d gone?”

Jake shook his head. “She tried to find them. She searched the whole mall until one of the security guards stopped her. ‘Told her he’d seen a group of them leave ten minutes before.”

“No!”

“I knew it wasn’t the same; losing someone in the air and being left alone on your birthday. But it made me realise something. I was like her friends. If something had happened to my wingman…I wouldn’t have known. It makes me feel bad, the fact it took Amelia being left alone on her birthday for Mav’s message to get through to me, but it worked. Haven’t left my wingman since.”

You smiled a little as you looked at him. “So what did you do when Amelia came back?”

“Well, she sat at the bar top doing her homework for an hour before I managed to get it out of her why she was back early. Then we made a day of it; I made her favourite foods and taught her how to make a cocktail. Penny would never let her behind the bar but after the day she’d had, how could I say no?”

“I’m guessing Penny doesn’t know about this?”

“She knows about it now. Amelia had to make a science project and her mixology seemed a little too advanced for someone who’d never been allowed behind a bar.” 

“And you agreed to make a cocktail?”

Jake hesitated for a moment. “Well, it was a mocktail. I might be a rule breaker, but I am responsible.”

Once you’d both finished restocking, you went back inside with Jake and placed one of each thing onto the tables, whilst he carried the crate beside you. 

“You said this job was after-work detention. Is it still?”

Jake chuckled, lightly, and shook his head. “No. That ended a while back, but I asked Penny if I could stay on. I help out every now and then. Fills my day when I’ve got nothing to do and,” Jake looked around. “I don’t know. There’s something nice about seeing this place calm. Penny’s put a lot into this place and we all respect it.”

Watching Jake admire the place around him, you smiled. His gaze finally landed back on yours and his expression softened as he looked at you. 

You moved onto the next table, and the next, and the next, in quiet silence. 

But as you reached a familiar booth, Jake felt the memory rush back to him. But as you scooted across the seat to place the menus and items together, a question left Jake’s lips before he could fully stop himself. 

“Did you know who I was when we first met?”

You looked back at him a little confused. “What?”

Jake looked around a little just to simply move his feet. Why had he asked? Fuck it. He’d already asked. 

“The day I hit on you. Well, tried. Did you already know who I was? From Phoenix?”

You relaxed a little, realising what he was talking about. “I didn’t know your face, but…yeah. I’d heard stories from Phoenix. She also warned me that if one of you were going to hit on me, it would have been you.”

“Is that why you said no?”

You tilted your head a little. You’d gotten to know Jake over the last two weeks and something told you he wasn’t asking because he was trying to heal his ego. 

“Why do you want to know? Truthfully?”

Being under your comforting gaze in that moment made Jake feel heat rise directly from his feet. 

Taking a deep breath, he told you why. 

“Because I want to know if you said ‘no, thank you’ because of me, or because Phoenix warned you away.”

For a moment, you smiled and Jake didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t mocking, or amusement. 

Scooting out of the booth, you stood in front of him. 

“Jake, I said ‘no, thank you’ because you did what every dude in a bar does. They walk up, no matter how nice their smile is, and expect that after a conversation I’ll give them my number. If Phoenix had wanted to warn me, she would have shown me your picture. If a guy wants to go on a date with me, he should just ask.”

Jake stood there for a moment a little dumbfounded. So, if that night he’d just walked up to you and asked you on a date, you would have said yes? If he’d asked you in the supermarket, you would have said yes? 

Did you still want to-

“She’s telling you to ask her out, idiot.”

Whipping his head to the side, Jake found Amelia at the bar unpacking her school bag. Jake’s eyes flicked over to you for a moment. You were looking at Amelia with a thankful smile before turning back to look at him. 

After nearly giving himself whiplash a couple of times, Jake’s gaze finally landed back on you, a light smirk on his face. 

“Y/n.”

“Yes, Jake?”

“Would you like to get dinner with me tonight?”

“As in a date?”

Jake nodded, and you smiled. 

“I’d love to.”

[wolvietxt]

𝓢ILENT 𝓣REATMENT.

pairings : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : argument, crying, hurt / comfort, happy ending, established relationship au, shouting, implied size diff (like my fav trope if you can’t already tell) silent treatment  summary : after an argument with frank, you both end up giving eachother silent treatment, until the tension gets too unbearable for you in the car. wc : 4.5k a/n : i got a req for this a few days ago but i think i deleted it or something i can’t find it now💔 but it was from an anon so thank you for this one because i loved writing this ALSO!! thank you to everyone who leaves feedback + little comments on my frank fics i notice it happens more when i write for frank and it’s the absolute sweetest

the air in the apartment felt heavy, charged, like a storm was brewing right there in the middle of the living room. frank was pacing now, his big hands flexing at his sides, his jaw tight enough that you swore you could hear his teeth grinding.  

you didn’t fight - not like this. not with him raising his voice and you trying so hard not to let yours crack. it wasn’t how things usually went. frank was tough, sure, rough around the edges in a way that didn’t really go away even when he was at his gentlest. but with you, he was softer. he made an effort to rein it in because he’d told you once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, that he didn’t want you to ever be scared of him. and you never had been.

but tonight, he was angry. angrier than you’d ever seen him at you, and the worst part was you weren’t sure how it had even escalated to this.  

“so what?” frank barked, spinning on his heel to face you, his broad frame taking up what felt like the entire room. “you think i’m just gonna sit back and let this slide?” his voice was sharp, cutting, and it made you flinch, even though you knew deep down that he’d never in a million years actually hurt you. “you think that’s who i am?”  

you held your ground, even though your heart was pounding against your ribs. “it’s not about letting it slide, frank,” you said softly, your tone calm, measured - a stark contrast to the heat in his voice. “it’s about not making it worse. escalating doesn’t fix anything.”  

“escalating?” he repeated, his voice rising, almost incredulous. “this isn’t escalating, this is handling it. you don’t just let people treat you like crap n’ walk away. you should know that’s not how it works.”  

“sometimes it is,” you said quietly, refusing to match his volume. “sometimes walking away is the only thing you can do. not everything has to be a fight.”  

“bullshit.” the word came out harsh, and the bite in it made your chest tighten. frank rarely swore at you, and when he did, it was never like this, never with this kind of edge.  

your hands trembled slightly, so you folded your arms across your chest, not in defiance but as a way to steady yourself. “frank, please. i don’t want to argue about this.”  

“yeah, well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you went and tried to handle this on your own.” he threw his hands up, his frustration spilling over like a dam breaking. “you didn’t even tell me, and now i’m supposed to just sit back and be okay with it?”  

“i didn’t tell you because i knew this is how you’d react,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.  

his face twisted, a mixture of disbelief and something else - hurt, maybe. but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a hard, almost cold expression. “damn right this is how i’d react,” he shot back. “because i give a shit. because i don’t want you getting hurt or screwed over or whatever the hell else might happen if i’m not there to step in.”  

“i know you care,” you said, your voice still soft but firm. “but you can’t control everything, frank. sometimes things happen, and you just have to let them go.”  

he let out a sharp, bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “letting it go gets you hurt. letting it go gets you walked all over. i’m not gonna let that happen to you.”  

his words were loud, forceful, like he was trying to hammer them into your head, but they only made your throat tighten more. “i can handle myself,” you said, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts.  

“can you?” he snapped, and the doubt in his tone stung worse than any of the yelling.  

you flinched, your eyes dropping to the floor. “that’s not fair,” you whispered.  

“yeah, well, life’s not fair,” he shot back, his tone still razor-sharp.  

silence fell between you, heavy and suffocating. you could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill, but you refused to cry - not in front of him, not when he was like this, which he never had been before. you’d seen flashes of it occasionally, never once directed at you. so instead, you turned on your heel and walked out of the room, your steps quick but steady, your back straight even though every part of you felt like curling up into yourself.  

you didn’t look back, but you could feel his eyes on you as you left.  

the door clicked softly as you shut yourself in the bathroom, leaning back against the cool wood as you tried to pull in a steadying breath. it felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs back in the living room, and now the weight of it all was crashing down on you.  

you stared at the tiled floor, your arms wrapped around yourself like that might somehow hold you together. your chest felt tight, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, but you bit down hard on your bottom lip, refusing to let them fall. not yet, anyway.  

you weren’t used to this - not with frank. he could be sharp, blunt, even infuriatingly stubborn sometimes, but he was never cruel. not to you. in the years since you’d met him, since the whirlwind of your relationship had gone from cautiously circling each other to something real and steady, frank had always been your safe place. he was intense, sure, but his intensity had always felt protective, grounding, like you could lean on him no matter how bad things got.  

so why did it feel like he was the one knocking the ground out from under you now?  

you pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, trying to will the tears away. it wasn’t fair to pin all the blame on him, you knew that. this argument wasn’t entirely about frank’s temper, or his need to protect you - it was about your own unwillingness to let him.  

the issue had started small, just a casual remark you’d made earlier in the week about someone you worked with - someone who’d been taking advantage of your kindness. you hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but frank had picked up on it immediately, and the more you’d tried to brush it off, the more his protective instincts had kicked in.  

at first, it had been sweet, his quiet grumbles about how people didn’t deserve to treat you that way, how you needed to stand up for yourself more. but somewhere along the line, it had turned into this - a full-blown argument where neither of you seemed to be able to see the other’s side.  

you weren’t blind to why he was upset. frank had been through more than most people could even imagine, and the idea of someone hurting you - or even disrespecting you - lit a fire in him that he couldn’t always control. but the way he handled that fire was what made your chest ache. it felt suffocating, like his need to protect you was overshadowing the fact that you didn’t want - or need - him to fight your battles for you.  

you let out a shaky breath, the first tear slipping free as the weight of it all settled heavier on your shoulders.  

frank had always been larger than life to you - not just physically, though his sheer size and strength made you feel small in comparison, but in the way he carried himself, the way he seemed to command every room he walked into. it was part of what had drawn you to him in the first place, the quiet confidence that bordered on intimidating until you saw the softness he tried so hard to hide.  

he’d always been gentle with you, even when his hands were so calloused and rough, even when his voice was so gravelly and low. it made the harshness of his words tonight cut deeper, the sharp edges of his anger something you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of.  

you wiped at your face quickly, straightening up as you tried to pull yourself together. you hated crying - especially over arguments like this. it made you feel weak, even though you knew it wasn’t, and the last thing you wanted was for frank to think he’d broken you. he’d never stop beating himself up over it.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to go back out there yet. not with the way his words were still echoing in your mind, the frustration in his voice still ringing in your ears.  

you stayed there for a while, letting the quiet of the bathroom wrap around you like a blanket, giving yourself the space to breathe and feel without the weight of frank’s presence bearing down on you.  

meanwhile, in the living room, frank was pacing again. his hands were on his hips, his brows drawn together in that way they always did when he was deep in thought - or pissed off.  

he knew you were upset. hell, he wasn’t an idiot, and he’d seen the way your eyes were brimming with tears before you’d turned and walked away. it wasn’t the first time he’d pushed too hard, but it was the first time it had been directed at you, and it was eating at him in a way he didn’t want to admit.  

but the anger was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, and he couldn’t seem to let it go. it wasn’t directed at you - not at all. it was at the situation, at the asshole who’d made you feel like you had to handle everything on your own. but frank wasn’t exactly good at untangling those things, at separating his frustration from the people he cared about most.  

he scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a low growl of frustration as he dropped onto the couch. his mind was running in circles, replaying the argument over and over again, each word sharper than the last.  

the silence in the apartment felt deafening, and for a moment, he considered going to find you, to try and talk this out. but he stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to stay put. you needed space - he knew that much, even if it went against every instinct he had.  

he sat there for a long time, the tension in his body refusing to ease as he stared at the spot where you’d been standing just minutes before.  

the car keys sat on the counter, untouched, while the clock crept closer to the time you were supposed to leave. it had been a whole thing - this charity function a few towns over. someone important to frank had invited him, and even though it wasn’t the kind of event he’d normally go for, he’d said yes because it mattered to them.  

you had said yes because it mattered to him.  

but now, with the argument still heavy in the air, the thought of sitting next to him for almost four hours felt like trying to breathe underwater. the quiet that lingered between you wasn’t the natural kind you often enjoyed. it was thick and suffocating, and neither of you seemed ready to cut through it.  

you stood in the bedroom doorway, watching frank tie his boots like the act itself had wronged him. his movements were sharp, jerky, and his mouth was set in a grim line. you weren’t sure if it was guilt or frustration written in his expression, but either way, it left your stomach in knots.  

he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, yanking it on with a force that looked like it made the seams strain. his head turned slightly toward you as if he was about to say something, but then he thought better of it, his eyes dropping to the floor instead.  

you didn’t move, didn’t speak, just hovered in the doorway as he brushed past you toward the front door. the weight of it all - the argument, the way he hadn’t looked at you since - pressed down on your chest like a boulder, and your throat burned with more unshed tears.  

when he held the door open for you, you walked through it wordlessly, your gaze fixed on the floor.  

outside, the crisp night air felt sharper than it should have, like even the weather was conspiring to remind you how raw everything was. frank locked the door behind you without a word, and the sound of the lock clicking into place made you flinch.  

he didn’t notice.  

the car ride loomed ahead of you like a punishment, the thought of sitting in that confined space together for hours making your palms sweat. but there was no way out of it, not without causing more problems.  

frank climbed into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles went white. he started the engine without looking at you, the low growl of it filling the space where words should’ve been.  

you slid into the passenger seat, keeping your hands in your lap and your gaze fixed on the window. the city lights blurred into streaks as the car picked up speed, but you weren’t paying attention to where you were going. your mind was stuck on everything that had been said - and everything that hadn’t.  

he’d been angry. louder than usual, harsher, the words tumbling out of him like he didn’t know how to stop them. but you knew frank. you knew the fire in him wasn’t because he didn’t care - it was because he cared too much, and it scared him sometimes.  

still, knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.  

the silence in the car was unbearable, the kind that made you want to fill it just so you didn’t have to sit with the weight of it anymore. but frank wasn’t giving you an inch, his eyes glued to the road and his shoulders hunched up like he was trying to shield himself from the world.  

you stole a glance at him, your chest aching at the sight of his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. he looked tired - angry, yes, but tired too, like the argument had drained him in ways he didn’t want to admit.  

your own emotions were bubbling up, threatening to spill over no matter how hard you tried to keep them in check. your hands trembled slightly in your lap, and you clenched them into fists to try to stop it, but it didn’t help.  

you didn’t even realize you were crying until a tear slipped down your cheek, cool against your flushed skin. you brushed it away quickly, hoping frank wouldn’t notice, but you doubted he’d even glanced your way.  

the road stretched on, dark and empty except for the occasional glow of headlights from oncoming cars. the longer the silence dragged, the heavier it felt, like it was wrapping around your throat and making it hard to breathe.  

eventually, the ache in your chest grew too much to bear. you didn’t know what you wanted - comfort, maybe, or some kind of reassurance that everything would be okay - but the urge to reach out was overwhelming.  

your hand hovered hesitantly over the center console, your fingers trembling as you debated whether or not to do it. it felt like crossing some invisible line, like putting yourself out there in a way that left you completely vulnerable.  

but then you glanced at frank, at the way his brow furrowed and his jaw tightened, and something in you broke.  

with tears brimming in your eyes and a small, helpless pout tugging at your lips, you let your fingers reach up to grasp at his. the touch was so light it was barely there, but it was enough to draw his attention.  

he glanced down at your hand, his gaze softening instantly as he took in the way your fingers trembled and the sheen of tears in your eyes, the wet tracks of tears that’d already fallen etched on your face.

“ah, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice rough but laced with a tenderness that made your heart ache.  

his hand moved to cover yours completely, his fingers curling around your smaller ones in a gesture that felt both protective and grounding. his thumb brushed over the back of your hand in slow, deliberate strokes, and the tension in your chest eased just a little.  

you sniffled, blinking quickly to clear your vision as you looked up at him. his expression had shifted, the hard lines of his face softening as he met your gaze.  

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.  

frank let out a heavy sigh, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as he pulled the car off to the side of the road. the tires crunched against the gravel as he put it in park, and before you could ask what he was doing, he was out of the car.  

your breath caught as he rounded the front of the vehicle, his movements deliberate but not rushed. he opened your door, the cool night air rushing in as he crouched slightly to meet your eyes.  

“c’mere,” he said softly, his tone a stark contrast to the anger that had been there earlier.  

you hesitated for only a moment before unbuckling your seatbelt and letting him pull you into his arms. his embrace was warm and solid, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel small and safe all at once.  

“’m sorry, baby,” he murmured against your hair, his voice rough with emotion. “shouldn’t’ve yelled. shouldn’t’ve made you feel like that.”  

you buried your face in his chest, your own arms slipping around his middle as you let out a shaky breath. “i’m sorry too,” you whispered.  

“you don’t gotta be sorry, you did nothing wrong. my sweet girl’s just nice to everyone, isn’t she?” he cooed, his hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing gently against your temple as he peppered hard kisses over your face. “we’re okay?”  

you nodded against him, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips. “we’re okay.”  

he pressed another kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment longer than before. but instead of pulling back completely, frank’s lips trailed down, brushing lightly against your temple, then your cheek.  

your breath hitched, your hand tightening around his shirt as he hesitated, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. when your eyes flicked up to meet his, there was something unspoken between you - an ache, a pull that neither of you could ignore.  

“frank…” your voice was barely a whisper, and it only made him lean in closer.  

his hand moved to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his lips finally found yours. the kiss was slow at first, soft and careful, but there was a heat behind it, a depth that made your stomach twist in the best way.  

he kissed you like he needed you, like he couldn’t get close enough no matter how tightly he held you. his other hand slid to your waist, pulling you against him just enough to make you feel the strength behind every touch, every movement.  

when he pulled back, it was with a low, rumbling breath, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady himself. “you’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice rough and tinged with something deeper.  

your cheeks flushed, your heart racing as you tried to find the words, but all you could do was nod, your fingers still gripping the front of his shirt.  

he pressed one last, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth before stepping back. “c’mon,” he said, his tone softer now, his thumb brushing your cheek one last time before helping you back into the car.  

as he slid into the driver’s seat, his hand found yours again, holding on tightly. this time, neither of you let go.  

the rest of the drive was quiet, but not in the same way as before. frank kept one hand on the wheel, the other holding yours firmly in his grasp. his thumb moved in slow, lazy circles over your knuckles, a silent apology with every stroke.  

you felt the tension melting bit by bit, your chest no longer tight with the weight of everything left unsaid. instead, there was this warmth - a softness between you that hadn’t been there earlier. it was unspoken, but it was enough to ease the ache in your heart.  

“we’ll stop soon, yeah?” frank broke the silence, his voice low and softer than usual. “get you somethin’ to eat.”  

your lips curved into a small smile, your first real one since the argument. “i’m okay,” you murmured. “we don’t have to stop.”  

“nah.” he glanced over at you, his eyes lingering for a second longer than they should’ve. “you didn’t eat much earlier. ain’t lettin’ you sit through this thing hungry.”  

the tenderness in his voice made your cheeks heat, and you squeezed his hand lightly in response.  

it wasn’t long before frank pulled off at a small diner on the side of the road. the neon sign flickered against the night sky, casting a warm glow over the parking lot.  

“c’mon,” he said, cutting the engine and stepping out.  

before you could even reach for the door handle, frank was already there, pulling it open for you. his hand was outstretched, waiting for yours, and when you slipped your fingers into his, he gave them a gentle squeeze.  

inside, the diner was quiet, the hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes filling the space. frank led you to a booth in the corner, his hand never leaving yours until you slid into your seat.  

“what’re you in the mood for?” he asked, his eyes scanning the menu even though you both knew he’d end up ordering the same thing he always did.  

you shrugged, your fingers playing with the edge of the napkin in front of you. “maybe just some fries.”  

frank frowned, lowering the menu to look at you. “you need more than that.”  

“frank, i’m fine - ”  

“i’ll get you somethin’ else too,” he cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument.  

you bit back a smile, knowing better than to push him when he got like this. instead, you let him order for both of you, his gruff voice somehow softer when he spoke to the waitress.  

when the food arrived, frank nudged the plate closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly when you hesitated. “eat, sweetheart,” he said gently.  

you rolled your eyes but grabbed a fry anyway, earning a satisfied grunt from him.  

as you ate, the tension from earlier felt like a distant memory. frank had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like no matter how bad things got, everything would eventually be okay.  

after the meal, frank walked you back to the car, his hand settling on the small of your back as he guided you outside. the night air was crisp, but his touch was warm, steady, and it made you lean into him just a little.  

“y’alright?” he asked once you were back in the passenger seat.  

you nodded, looking up at him with a soft smile. “yeah. i’m okay.”  

his eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and then, without a word, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. it was quick but tender, and when he pulled back, his hand cupped your cheek for a second longer.  

the drive to the function was quieter this time, but it wasn’t the heavy silence from before. it was comfortable, the kind of quiet where words weren’t necessary because you both knew everything was okay now.  

as you pulled up to the venue, frank cut the engine and turned to you. his expression was softer, his usual rough edges smoothed out in a way that made your heart ache.  

“you look beautiful,” he said, his voice gruff but sincere.  

your cheeks flushed at the compliment, and you glanced down at your dress, suddenly feeling shy. “thank you,” you murmured.  

he leaned over, his large hand settling on your knee as he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. “‘m gonna keep tellin’ you that all night,” he added, his lips quirking into the faintest of smirks.  

the warmth in your chest grew, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “you don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, your tone light.  

he chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, and you swore it was the best thing you’d heard all day.  

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he said, opening his door. “let’s get this over with.”  

as you stepped out of the car, frank was already by your side, his hand finding yours once more. he held it tightly, his grip firm and reassuring, and when he glanced down at you, there was something in his eyes that made your breath catch.  

it was love - raw and unfiltered, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.  

and in that moment, you knew that no matter what, you and frank would always find your way back to each other.  

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[julieloves074]

‘A little bit… or a lot’ (Min Ho x Reader)

Summary: K.I.S.S resident Marco will not leave Y/n alone so the night at the club Min Ho comes to her rescue and they set themselves up in fake relationship to make sure the guy gets a hint, but will their friendship survive the blurred lines?

Warnings: kissing, divorce

Word count: 8.7K

(Noy my GIF :))

“Not again,” I say out loud subconsciously, Kitty and I are once again in the boys flat just studying with Q, and I lay my phone face down frustrated.

Q and Kitty turn towards me immediately, annoyance showing in their eyes, but not at me “What did he say this time?” Q asks.

I just pass him my phone; Kitty gets up from lying on her stomach and looks over his shoulder, her face twists and turns as she reads the message.

“I mean it could kind of be kinda… romantic- no?”

“What can be seen as romantic?” Min Ho says walking in through the dorm door and taking off his shoes, looking between the three of us.

I let out a loud sigh and twist to lie on my back laying a pillow over my face, “It’s Marco he keeps message me,” I hug the pillow to my chest.

Q laughs, “He’s pestering her and very clearly not getting a hint,” he says pointing the phone in Min Ho’s direction, he pulls a disgusted face as he reads the message.

“They say you are what you attract,” Min Ho says with a level of sass and walks into his room closing the door behind him.

“No one has ever said that” Kitty exclaimed in a whisper and the three of us burst into a fit of laughter.

Q passed the phone back to me and I immediately threw it to the other side of the sofa, “That guy seriously needs to chill,” Q says turning back to the textbook and question sheet.

“Honestly I’m so tired of it, I’m scared he’s gonna try something in person,” I said, both my friends shoot my empathetic looks, trying to be supportive, but it doesn’t look like Marco is going to leave me alone any time soon.

Kitty started to gather up all her resources, “Okay time to stop this,” she says getting up and putting the stuff in her bag. I try to argue with her that we’ve only done half the homework questions, but she ignores me and keeps packing.

“Look I need time to get ready for this date with Praveena, I really think things could work out between us, so I want to put the effort in,” she explains, Q and I look at each other and identical smiles spread across our faces, “Plus I’m still yet to match make you and I think it’s time you find someone for you, and it might help Marco move on,” I give her the can we not talk about this right now look but then Q agrees.

He stands up to leans against the sofa arm and looks down at me, “We’re gonna have so much fun, come on smileee,” he says reaching out an arm and pulling me up.

We agree to finish the work tomorrow and to meet in two hours to head out to the club. A new DJ was playing and most everyone in the friendship group wanted to go.

When we arrive the atmosphere is perfect, the music is energetic but cool, the lights and decorations are the exact level of out there and complimentary, and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. Kitty is quickly stolen away by Praveena and taken to the dance floor.

Dae, Q and I make our way to get mocktails before also heading to the dance floor, I watch Q looking around as if he were shopping for guys, which to be fair was exactly his plan for the night- a little distraction from the stress of tomorrow’s race and I was not going to stop him. Dae on the other hand looked stiff and uncomfortable but trying to move around doing something that kind of resembled dance moves.

“Oh my god,” Q says suddenly, and I follow his eyeline only to be met with the one and only, enemy on and off the track: Jin. Q looks… frankly offended at the sight and excuses himself.

When I turn back around to Dae he’s disappeared too, I look around but I can’t see him so go back to the bar to get another mocktail, then I finally find him talking to a group of girls at the back of the club and then I find Q making out with Jin so I went back for another drink and sat at the bar just people watching, all my friends were spread around.

That’s when I heard his voice. “Y/n!” Marco said sitting down next to me, I closed my eyes for a second. Great – now him. I couldn’t have my sad song music video moment, and I had to talk to him.

“Marco,” I say and it accidentally comes out a little too high pitched.

“What is such a pretty girl doing sat at the bar by herself?” he asks shuffling his seat closer and ordering a drink, being a good friend, I wanted to tell him, by not cockblocking any of my friends but I just don’t answer.

I finish the last of my drink and turn around to put it on the counter, in turn he places his hand on the counter almost touching my arm and leans closer to me, “Did you wanna get out of here? We could go grab some food or something,” he asked and I cringed internally.

Opening my mouth to answer he interrupts me, “Come on Y/n, we can go to that barbeque palace you love,”.

I grab my bag and stand as I say, “Marco I don’t-”

“There you are babe,” someone says from behind me, I feel an arm being strung against my shoulder, I turn to see Min Ho just as he presses a kiss to my forehead. He sees the confusion, and maybe a little fear in my eyes and nods subtly to Marco.

“Yep, just been waiting for you,” I reach my arm around his middle, he pulls me closer to him.

“Bye Marco,” Min Ho says simply and turns us away from the brunette walking in the direction of the exit.

What the hell just happened.

“What the hell just happened?” I said out loud this time as the outside breeze soothed me.

Min Ho just sighed taking his arm away, “I just saved your ass, you’re welcome by the way,” he explains.

“Thank you,” I say still in the state of shock.

“He really must not talk to many girls,” he continues, “you looked, repulsed, to say the least,” then one of his brows raised, “I can’t tell who I feel worse for, you, or that poor, helpless guy,”.

I shove my shoulder into his slightly, he swayed to one side by a step, a smile playing on his lips, I shook my head in response.

“What were you doing at the club anyway? I thought you said,” and then I turned on my best Mino Ho accent impression, “The sweat and heat of those places is terrible for my skin,”. The cool January breeze was rustling against my skin, and it was a pleasant contrast to the club which was starting to feel claustrophobic.

“I wanted to hear the DJ live, I’m considering hiring her for my next party,” he says placing his hands into his pockets, I wrapped mine around my jumper.

“So how long has this guy- what’s his name Mark- been bothering you?” Min Ho asked as we walk out towards the dorm buildings.

“Marco,” I say- he knew his name just chose to be petty, then I ran my hand through my hair but didn’t look at him when I answer, “Honestly pretty much since beginning of last semester but the messaging started getting more frequent over the break,”.

“Why haven’t you told anyone about it earlier?” he asked as if I was being an inconvenience to him, I explain to him that it’s never been anything big, he wasn’t being rude or demanding he just didn’t seem to understand that I wasn’t interested and the more I was pushing the more he was latching on.

“No every man can be as good as me, clearly,”

“Clearly,” I join in on his banter, “but seriously, thank you for saving me, I know how much how that must have killed you inside, to have to align yourself with me in such a way,” I said exaggerating, of course he didn’t actually feel this way, we are friends, but it was an inside joke in the friend group that Min Ho was just better than everyone.

Min Ho stopped in his track taking in a deep breath, “Fine, I’ll be your pretend boyfriend,”.

“What?- Min Ho I’m not asking you to-” the words fell out my mouth quickly.

He brushed me off immediately, “Until Marco leaves you alone. You should be thankful that I’m such a good person,” he starts walking again. I take a few quick paced steps to catch up to him.

“Min Ho you really don’t have to, I think he’s got it,” I argued but I  agree with the words coming out of my mouth, if anything a one off like this was likely to propel Marco more, as if this were some kind of challenge for all I knew.

“You’re so ungrateful,”

“Ok fine,” I say defeated, “Thank you,” this time with more emotion.

“It was time to do some charity work anyway,” he said messing up my hair, my face scrunched up in reaction. The rest of the way home in his car was spent arguing about what the best snack for film night was, then what the best film is and soon enough we were back on K.I.S.S grounds.

Min Ho walked me to the door of the girl’s dorm, now that we were alone we discussed what this arrangement meant, and what we were going to tell our friends. The answer was nothing, we were gonna leave them in the dark, one of them was likely to blabber and this needed to seem real. We would act as a couple in front of others but mostly when Marco was around. Not going over the top but just enough to make him believe. When we got to the door we looked at each other.

“What do we tell them when they ask how this happened?”

“We say that you finally fell for my handsome look and irresistible charm,” he says running a hand through his hair, “I mean it was bound to happen, everyone does,”

“Okay Min Ho, whatever,” and then we quickly came up with our cover story.

“Night L/n”

“Goodnight Min Ho,”

Then he was walking in the direction of the boy’s dorm and I look at my phone that was buzzing mercilessly the last few minutes, a bunch of texts were shining brightly back at me.

Kitty: Where are you?

Kitty: Helloooo

Kitty: We want to leave soon

Q: Girl we’re worried answer the phone

Q: missed call (2)

Kitty: missed call (3)

Yuri: Y/n meet us by the front door

Kitty: Swear I’m going to expose all ur secrets if you don’t answer

Shoot.

I was so wrapped up in the Marco situation and then Min Ho that I didn’t even think to text any of them. Not wanting to call any of them right now I text Kitty a quick explanation, that I wasn’t feeling well and Min Ho took us home.

My reply was met with several other messages, but I just got inside our room, got changed and jumped into bed. Twenty minutes later the girls arrived in the dorm but I was  pretending I was asleep, which I almost was, so a little white lie. They would’ve wanted to know what happened and I wasn’t quite ready to fake having a relationship in front of my friends.

<3 <3 <3

Over the next few days all was pretty normal, I didn’t see much of Min Ho outside of lessons, he was busy with avoiding his father and I was busy helping Kitty figure out who this Simon guy we are searching for is. Though on Thursday morning there was some flowers delivered to our door whilst we were having breakfast, I managed to get to the card before the girls thankfully and since then they wouldn’t stop prying.

That was until tonight, our weekly movie nights, I was feelings blessed with the fact that it was finally Friday, but I also didn’t know how to behave.

“I’m dreading whatever we’re gonna watch tonight,” Yuri says as we walk through the boy’s dorm building.

Kitty is flinging her popcorn bag, “I know I hate it when the boys pick, it’s always some kind of action film,” she says.

“They’re not always that bad,” Julianna says bringing Yuri’s hand, which she was holding, up to her lips to give it a kiss.

Even though I didn’t mind the action films or the thrillers it was when they put on horror films that I wanted to run and hide- I don’t judge what people like but it’s lowkey not for me.

“Oh guys remind me to ask Jin for that smoothie recipe before we leave tonight,” Yuri says as we arrive at the door. Kitty reaches for the handle and lets herself right in, we all take our shoes off and say hello to everyone. Giving the boys the benefit of the doubt they did prepare hot drinks and brought some blankets into the living area.

“Are you girls ready to dive into Infested?” Min Ho says coming out his and Dae’s room, the latter following behind him with a closed lipped smile.

“Nooo,” I drag out and look at Q begging him for some support, he just gives me one of those pitying smiles. That night on the way back from the club I told Min Ho that I refused to go watch the film in cinemas or at all.

Dae pats my shoulder as he walks past, “Sorry Y/n it was Min Ho’s turn to pick this time,” he said taking the drinks from the counter and passing them out to those who have already sat down.

Min Ho took a place on the edge of the sofa, I helped Q grab the bowls with snacks and lay them on the table as the others chatted, Jin was using the remote to turn on the film. I look towards Kitty to go join her and sit in front of the sofa when Min Ho catches my eye.

He nods his head ever so subtly, urging me to come sit next to him, I abide with some reluctance.

“L/n” he says lifting the blanket, I sit down with my legs curled up to my body, “I really do think you’re going to hate this movie,” his smile is sadistic, I go to elbow him and he flinches away.

“That’s my opinion,” I say sweetly.

After asking if everyone was ready Jin turned the movie on, and as expected it was creepy and eerie and my mouth was curled up in discomfort within the first 15 minutes. When everyone is deeply focused on the film I turn my head to Min Ho slightly.

“Also- flowers. Really?” I whispered shaking my head.

“Do you want this to be believable or not?” he said back still watching the screen, does he actually send flowers to the girls he was dating, just because?

“Who knew you were such a gentleman,” I teased and I just watched him roll his eyes before turning back to the screen, my distraction did not want to distract me from whatever the hell was happening on the screen.

About half an hour passed before jumpscare scared me so bad that I turned my head to the side covering my eyes and almost hit Min Ho who was sat very close to me. A low chuckle escaped him, then he was laying his arm around me, I felt myself stiffening, it was unexpected, but it only took a second for my body to relax.

After Kitty returned from the toilet later on during the movie she looked at me, her eyes widening as if I’d grown another head, her eyes scanned from me to Min Ho, back to me then to him in a questioning look. After I failed to satisfy her need for answer she sat back down and pulled her phone out, then I felt another two pairs of eyes on me, but I forced myself to keep my eyes on the screen. How long did we have of this film yet?

At some point Min Ho started to brush his fingers back and forth across the skin on arm, it was calming, and if it was anyone else, in any other circumstance I’d find it endearing, romantic.

When the movie was finished, I was half asleep on the sofa, my head on Min Ho’s chest, no one said anything about our position as they started getting up and cleaning, but they did look back once or twice to check if they were seeing things right.

I got up to help washing up, putting my jumper back on after unfurling from the warm blanket.

“So don’t worry guys we’ll be back with a super cheesy romance next week!” Kitty says clapping her hands together and then hugging Q goodbye. I laid the tea towel on counter ready to go get my shoes back on too.

One step into my journey I was stopped, everyone was still chatting and getting ready to leave, as a pair of arms wrapped around me.

“Bye babe,” came Min Ho’s voice, a little louder than usual, just to make sure everyone heard, and before I knew what was happening, he was turning me around slightly, his eyes going to my lips, then to my eyes, and he clearly did not read the panic in my eyes as he leaned down and kissed me briefly.

“Bye,” I said almost breathlessly, turning back to see all our friends trying to hide their shock.

The walk back to our dorm was very quiet, Yuri complained that no one reminded her to get the smoothie recipe from Jin and Kitty was listing rom coms, but what would usually be loud was rather quiet.

That was until we were all within the space of our dorm.

“What the hell was that?!” Yuri exclaimed  

“Yeah, I think you have some explaining to do,” Kitty says fidgeting excitedly

I hang up my jacket before turning back to them, “Guys it’s not a big deal,”

“Not a big deal!” Kitty started, “Is this where you disappeared to last week after ditching us at the club

“Actually, you guys all ditched me…”

Julianna joined in “So not the point, but seriously you can’t say it’s not a big deal,”

“You and Min Ho have been butting heads all of last semester,” Yuri states.

“That’s irrelevant, what happened that night?” Kitty pestered excitedly.

I lifted myself to sit on the island counter, “He ended up coming to the club so he could listen to the DJ, he thought he might hire her for his next party, I bumped into him on my way outside, the hot air was giving me a headache and we just talked, and then came back and talked some more,” I pull my lips into a shy smile.

“Just talked?” Yuri says consciously.

“Okay talked and then, we kissed, it was an in the moment thing but then yeah, we’re just in this kind of middle ground where I don’t really know what’s going on,”

“Oh my God, so the flowers the other day were from him?” Yuri pieces it all together.

“I mean I have literally been telling you guys for moths,” Kitty says turning to the other two girl putting her hand out, palm upwards, “You both owe me,” she says. I shook my head and jumped down from the counter, Kitty had once said as a one off to me that maybe this line of annoyance with each other was more, but I just brushed her off, and now I feel bad tricking her, but it wouldn’t be for long.

<3 <3 <3

We all got stuck into the semester really fast the next few weeks, lessons were harder, and Kitty was actively doing opposite of what her intention was this semester with Praveena and Yuri, but at least we were making progress on her family situation. Min Ho and I were acting like a happy couple every time we all met up or Marco was around, which was decreasing the more times he saw Min Ho with his arm around me or whispering something judgy about someone else in my ear making me laugh.

This meant we started spending more time together and I was learning so much about him, one night when everyone else went out we cooked dinner, well more accurately he cooked dinner whilst I tried helping but he just sent me away to the other side of the kitchen island and I watched him sheepishly.

“Stop looking at me like that L/n” he said not even looking up from the vegetables he was chopping, and I felt a blush rise on my face.

There was also the first time I spent time in his room, we had been texting and I was complaining about homework for one of the classes and he told me to just come over and he would help me. We were doing homework sat on his bed listening to music, his back pressed against the wall, and I was laying on my stomach facing him as we worked out the answers.

The someone creaked open the door slightly, “I want to come in so stop making out!” Dae warned and Min Ho and I looked at each other as if that was the most disgusting thought. He was not a bad kisser, in fact the last few weeks I’ve found out quite the opposite, but I wasn’t about to boost his ego.

We all also ended up going to the Moon’s cabin for the holiday weekend, unfortunately his dad didn’t come up, Min Ho said that there was something more important with his favourite son. He played it off cooly, but I could see the hurt in his eyes but he said he didn’t want to talk about it.

That first night when everyone else had fallen asleep I snuck out to the kitchen to get some water, and there was Min Ho sat on the sofa scrolling through his phone, he looked tired with the light illuminating his face in the dark.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked, but he just murmured a reply. I grabbed a blanket and went to sit down next to him, “maybe you should talk to him Min Ho,” I raised the idea gently.

He shook his head and put his head down, “And say what? Oh by the way dad thanks for not coming to the weekend getaway you wanted and always choosing everything and everyone else over me, I don’t think so” he says sharply but I know it’s directed at me. I turn his face to look at me, the persona falls then.

I put my arms around him and pull him close into a hug, running my hand up and down his back and nape as his head is hidden against my neck.

“Be careful L/n or you’ll actually fall in love with me,” he said turning his head ever so slightly to look at me.

“You wish,”

But he didn’t move away, we sat in silence for a while and when I whispered his name I got no reply, only to notice that he’d fallen asleep.

The Kitty came out the corridor to see us, I was running a hand through his hair as I was also starting to doze off, and Kitty whispered, “Is he okay”.

I nodded, “Yeah he will be,”, and then she was heading back to the bedroom with an I told you smile. Over the last few weeks, I did come to care for Min Ho more, as a friend, I got to know more about him and how he’s actually a human with his own shit going on, but he just doesn’t let people in. The rest if our time was spent, playing games and sitting in the hot tub in the evening, there was minimal drama apart from the whole Yuri, Julianna, Kitty and Praveena love letter, and Min Ho’s dad bailing but we made the most of the trip.

By the time we got back it was only two weeks until the school’s annual ball, this year’s theme was going to be ‘Blossom Ball’. In all honesty I didn’t think Min Ho and I would be keeping this thing up for so long but maybe it was time to end it before the ball, I knew more than a couple girls were hoping for my downfall so they could go with him, and in part I did feel guilty, one of these girls could be someone he could really fall for.

After overhearing another not-so-subtle conversation in one of my extracurricular classes I decided that it was time to put it to an end.

That was until I was walking through the common room area and was bombarded by 5 people with signs, pink glittery writing spread out on them, music was turned on really loud behind me, a well known Korean love song. The signs read:

‘Y/n’ ‘Will you’ ‘go to’ ‘the dance’ ‘with me?’

Then Marco burst through the crowd of guys with a single flower in his hands, dropping down to one knee in front of me.

I could feel the eyes of all the other students, and their whispers, mostly judging Marco, because like come on, from the onlooker of an outsider, who asks out a girl to prom when she’s had a boyfriend for the past two months? I could feel the frustration building up under my skin.

“Marco can you just give it a break! I have a boyfriend, that I really like for gods sake. Leave me alone!” I say with more fire than I had intended

“I guess that’s my cue, excuse me mate,” Min Ho says coming from behind Marco who is stuck with a mortified face looking towards us.

“Now that that joke of a man is out the way, will you go to the Blossom Ball with me L/n” he asked lifting the pink roses he held, for a moment something fluttered in my heart and I reminded myself this is not real, it’s for show. I just needed to get through the ball and then we could go back to the way things were, and my heart would stop doing summersaults every time he touched me or smiled at me.

I pulled the ‘are you joking face’ and a smile, a genuine smile, spreads over my lips, I can almost drown out the pathetic complaints from Marco. A but of guilt was eating away at me but not even those surrounding us were paying him any pity, still those who were looking  were looking at Min Ho and I.

“Yes, of course,” I reply and reaching for the flowers, the second they’re out of his hands both of them are on my face and he kisses me boldly and I can feel myself blush at the reactions of all the students. The thing about Min Ho was that he didn’t need big signs or loudly blaring music to make something grand and meaningful.

“Well, I hope you have a black dress to wear so you can match my suit,”

“And what If I don’t?” I asked in a challenge.

“Then I guess you’ll be going with Mr grand gesture over there,” he points his thumb behind his back and shrugs before walking away. I watch him walk away for a moment, the audacity of this kid.

“You coming?” he asked turning around briefly and I shake my head before catching up with him.

<3 <3 <3

Thankfully the dress that I bought a while back was black and I have to admit I was looking fucking hot, with my hair curled and let down, my makeup and the black and white corsage that Min Ho dropped off earlier.

“Well well well, Min Ho is being treated tonight,” Kitty says coming out from the bathroom, now too in her dress, a satin red gown, she looked absolutely stunning, anyone would be lucky to have her.

“And who are you planning on wooing tonight Miss Covey,” I said pointing up and down her body, “You look stunning Kitty, all eyes will be on you,” I tell her and she comes give me a hug, everything in Kitty’s love life was still a little bit on fire and in chaos but she was dealing with it, I was there for her. She was doing okay and we found her family, who wasn’t exactly talking to her yet but we got the letters from Peter and we would make them listen one way or another.

We finished getting ready and headed out, the ball was on the other side of campus in one of the new buildings, I couldn’t wait to see all the decorations, and the view was said to be absolutely stunning. We met Yuri and Julianna outside the dorm building and made our way over together. The air was a perfect mix of fresh but also pleasantly warm so none of us had to wear jackets.

“You guys all look absolutely fire,” Q states the second he sees us in an exaggerated voice, complimenting little things about our looks and conveying that we may burn the building down with how hot we look.

“Is it time we talk about you now diva? Come on give us a spin,” Kitty exclaims and helps him do a little twirl. Then Jin comes back with 2 drinks and drags Q to the dance floor, Julianna and Yuri follow.

“So,” Kitty says hands behind her back and looking out at the huge room, it truly was stunning, there was petals everywhere and the colour scheme mixed pink and white and black and gold, it looked elegant, and almost too fancy for a school, “Where’s the lucky guy?” she asks.

“His dad needed something from him, but he should be here soon,” I said and spotted Praveena in my eyeline, Kitty’s gaze followed mine, “Maybe now’s the time?” I suggested, Kitty has been trying to work up the courage to talk to her since everything went down at the cabin but she can’t seem to find a way and it’s been eating away at her.

She asked five times if I was okay being left along for a while and I urged her to go, she deserved to be happy, and something was telling me that Praveena might be willing to hear her out. I headed over to the bar to get myself a drink, pulling out my phone to see a message from my mom asking me to call me when I’ve got a quiet minute. A wave of anxiety passes through me.

“Hi, are you okay?” I look up at the unfamiliar voice.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, I’m Josh, you just started to look really pale I thought you were about to faint or something,” he stuck his hand out, the boy has dark blonde hair, and he is learning against the bar with a friendly smile.

I shoved my phone back into my little purse, and shook his hand, “No I’m okay, thanks though,”

“Unpleasant message?” he asks and sits down, I take a seat next to him and explain that my family had a poor history of messaging me something really vague things when it was actually something serious and it would make me worry, he then took it upon himself to make me laugh, in his words laugher was one of the best medicines. I found he was from the year above and originally from Canada, and that he wanted my number and to take me out.

The conversation was enjoyable, and he bought me another drink so I gave him my number, he even wanted to dance but I couldn’t not save my first dance for my ‘boyfriend’, Kitty would be devastated. When he left to go to talk to some of his friends, I looked at the time, I hadn’t realised an hour and a half had passed already.

It was then that a figure walking in caught my eye. Min Ho was wearing a stunning black and white suit, his hair in his classic style and yet it looked extra lush right now. Watching him run his hand through it felt as though it was in slow motion. Q who was stood near the entrance caught his searching eyes and pointed in my direction.

“You look… pathetic,” he says in that very Min Ho way of his as he walks over, head turning slightly to the side observing my dress.

I smile subconsciously, “You too,”.

“I’m sorry I’m so late you know how my dad is, when he’s in a good mood it’s one thing after another,” he said earnestly.

I shook my head, brows scrunching, “Oh no don’t worry, I met a new friend, so he kept me company,”

“Who was it?”

“His names Josh, he’s in the year above us,” I say but Min Ho doesn’t seem to look impressed.

He reached his hand forward, a few strands of hair falling forwards, “Come on let’s dance,” he says completely ignoring what I just said, “You think people will believe you’re actually my girlfriend if I don’t even dance with you,”.

A reminder rings in my head, “True, Marco might think it’s his time to swoop in,” I say and something about his facial expression changes ever so slightly, the change so small and sudden that I can’t read it before it’s gone.

He doesn’t say anything just takes a hold of my hand and pulls me towards the dance floor, we stand before each other for less than a second before I reach my hands to rest around his neck, a small awkward chuckle escapes him. This wasn’t new, I have been in very close contact with him, but this felt different.

“Plus, I know this is your favourite song,” he says looking right into my eyes, as if he could see right into my soul.

We talked about Kitty, and Q and Jin, and his dad, and what was going to happen with the big talent competition, and what our plans were for the summer neither of us noting that when these plans were happening this was going to be over. Without either of us realising about three songs had passed, we made each other laugh and then tried to pull serious faces but my attempts were poor in comparison to his.

“This is not fair

“I lo- I really, really like your laugh,” he says correcting himself, I brush him off and move one arm to brush my hair behind my ear. He lifted his hand and tucked the side of my hair behind my ear, then his fingers went to my chin to lift my gaze towards him, his eyes scanning my face.

“L/n” he said, and I could feel my heart rate increase.

“Y/n!” Kitty’s voice shouted out as she approached with our friends, the music turned upbeat and she was pulling my arm to come dance with them, and that’s how the rest of the dance was spent, drinking fancy looking mocktails and running around and dancing with our friends.

It was a few days later when my mom had flown into Seoul and was going to meet me in a restaurant at the edge of town, I told Min Ho that I was more than capable of going by myself, but he insisted that drive and come with me, I only let him when he agreed to stay in the car. In the car he argued at me about not telling him my mom was flying in and that she could have used his family’s private jet rather than coach but I told him he was just being ridiculous.

When we arrived at the restaurant I saw mom through the window, she was wearing bright colours and had a gleaming smile on her lips as she scrolled on her phone. Some of the anxiety that I was feeling the last couple of days started to fizzle away. I pulled the sleeves of the hoodie that I stole from Min Ho in the car up and walked in.

“Y/n honey!” my mom stood up to give me an embrace.

“How are you mom?” I asked, “I’ve missed you, and dad,” I said I took the seat opposite her.

She brushes her hair behind her ear, “Oh it’s been quite chaotic I do have to say,” she starts and grabs a menu, “But let’s order food first then I’ll explain,” she said, I swallowed down and even though I wanted to argue I chose not to, not yet.

The food arrived and it was delicious, mom was talking telling me about some work drama and my aunt’s new baby which was lovely, but she was avoiding whatever she came here to tell me about. After she laid down her cutlery and picked up her phone I spoke up.

“Mom, can you tell me what’s going on?” I asked nervously.

The look in her eyes when she looked up at me had my heart dropping, brows burrowing and worry painting itself over my face.

“Your dad and I are getting a divorce,”

The world stopped. It was like I’d heard her say the words, but they weren’t registering in my head.

“We’ve been separated since you went back to school after the break,”

“What? How long has this been going on?” I asked frantic.

Mom moved her hand over the table and grab mine, they were soft and warm, “About halfway through last semester, we- we’ve been trying to make it work but we’ve decided we’ll be happier this way,” she said, her thumb running over my skin was not comforting. In all truth it was making me feel nauseous.

I didn’t say another word, I grabbed my phone and stood up, putting it in my back pocket and ignoring my mom’s words, her calls out to me. The only thing I could see clearly was the door, I needed fresh air.

When I was outside I couldn’t stop walking, I headed towards the outside area of the restaurant, towards the back of the fenced land.

“L/n!” a voice called but I didn’t turn around.

“Y/n!” they called again, at this point I reached the end of the land looking outward tears rolling down my face.

“Y/n are you okay? What happened?” Min Ho was asking frantically looking me over.

“They’re getting a divorce,” I whispered, the phrase sounded foreign on my lips, “Which means it was all for nothing,”

His brows furrow and he steps closer, “What was for nothing?”

“My whole childhood I spent listening to them argue, being the one in the middle, smoothing out the creases, bring the common ground, it was all for nothing,” I said again and felt the tears doubling.

“It’s going to be okay, it’s going to get better,” he said and reached his arms wide towards me, I took a few deep breaths and let out a sob, before wrapping my arms around him and letting him pull me close as I cried into his chest, shaking my head in denial.

He brushed his fingers over my hair moving it out of my face, holding me tightly.

“You must think I’m such a mess. You definitely did not sign up for this,” I say trying to add a playful tone, but it came out more pathetic than anything.

“Y/n I’d be more worried if you weren’t reacting like this,” he said laying his chin on my head, “You’re” he paused momentarily, “You’re kind and caring and loyal and have had a lot of pressure put on you your whole life, it’s normal for you to feel like this, this panicking need to fix it, even when you know you can’t make everyone happy,” he explained and I could feel my heart start to slow as I followed his breathing subconsciously.

After another few moments I took another deep breath and pulled away, still holding onto the sides of his open denim jacket, and him the sleeves on the hoodie, not much further apart.

“Thank you,” I said, and he wiped the last of my tears off from under my eye.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said and then his eyes went from my eyes to my lips and back up, I could feel him leaning closer and my body naturally reacted, as if it were a dance it knew well. Then his lips were on mine, and they were soft and warm, and moved at exactly the right pace. I kissed back without a second thought, poured everything I was feeling into it, he pulled me close to his body. That’s when the second thought came and I pulled away.

“Min Ho, stop, what are we doing?” I asked, running my hand over my forehead, everything in my head a big mixture of mixed emotions and I could feel the tears building up again, the pressure in my chest making my shoulders rise, “There’s no one here, no need to pretend,”

“Y/n”

“In fact, I think the mission has ran its course,” I started, “Marco’s not bothering me anymore, so thank you, for everything, really. But we’ve been avoiding this because we don’t want things to be weird, but I think it’s time to come back to reality,” the words felt like sandpaper in my throat, “we should head back,” I said looking at his face, such a mixture of emotions on his face that I couldn’t read them. I forced myself to walk past him, he didn’t follow straight away but then his steps echoed behind mine.

We sat in silence the whole way back to K.I.S.S and I got out the car before he could say anything, I rushed to my dorm only to be met with all three of the girls upon arrival. The second they spotted me, all faces concerned and I started to cry again. Greving my parents divorce and what felt like the loss of a friendship I so desperately didn’t want to end, my words were harsh, and I didn’t want to lose his him, but his face was a clear sign.

They all questioned what happened, Julianna made me a tea, Yuri brought in a blanket and Kitty cooed me in her arms. I didn’t mention Min Ho, I didn’t know how to go about that yet, I didn’t want to make either of us look like dickheads, ending this right after what I found out about my parents.

I managed to give myself a huge migraine, so I went to bed early, and fell asleep after crying for what felt like hours.

When I woke up in the middle of the night I looked at my phone to see the time, and what was a few messages from Min Ho.

(20:30) Posh boy: Are you feeling any better?

(20:58) Posh boy: Do you need anything? I can bring some chocolate or ice cream

(21:25) Posh boy: Please answer I’m worried about you

The last was sent a couple minutes ago,

(02:23) Posh boy: I know you’re asleep, but I’ve ordered your favourite tea and those biscuits that you love to steal from me, they should get here tomorrow

(03:00) Posh boy: Night L/n

I turned my phone back on its other side and turned around to face the other side in my bed, and forced myself to go back to sleep.

<3 <3 <3

I barley left the dorm for days, at the end of the weekend I sent an email to Alex explain the situation and explaining that I needed a few days, he accepted the request if I kept on top of the work. On Wednesday I went back to lessons, I hadn’t spoken to Min Ho since that day, he was probably avoiding me, just like I was avoiding him.

Josh and I had been texting a load since the night of the ball and I was staring to feel like maybe it could go somewhere, he respected that I needed some space right now but was already planning on some activities for us to do when I was up for it. It was making my heart hurt a little less.

When Friday rolled around, I knew I would have to face him: move night. 

The girls got in their comfies in the evening and were grabbing the snacks we bought earlier in the day, ready to head out to the boy’s room. I was dreading it and if the girls realised, I was being quiet they didn’t say anything.

When we arrived all was pretty normal. We made hot drinks and put out the snacks. Min Ho didn’t say anything to me and I hadn’t engaged either. He was sitting in his usual spot on the side of the sofa but I took a seat on Kitty’s side and laid my head on her shoulder, she quickly laid her arm around me and put her head on mine, rubbing my arm to soothe me, to tell me she’s got me. I think they all knew something was off between Min Ho and I too, that it wasn’t just the divorce I was upset about anymore, but they we’re giving me time.

I paid very little attention to the film and was ready to leave as soon as it was over. When we were back into our room Kitty sighed and turned around to me, “What’s going on with you and Min Ho, you guys seemed off tonight?” she asked.

I turned to her quickly, “We’ve ended things,” I say quickly “I think we’re figuring out how to behave around each other again,” I said earnestly.

Kitty looked both confused and worried, “Did something happen? Don’t get me wrong I love the guy but if he hurt you, I swear,” she started coming over to sit on the edge of my bed.

I gave her a sad smile, “Kitty, we just didn’t work,” I said and everything about the look on her face said she didn’t believe me, but she took the hint when I slid down my pillow and wrapped myself up in my duvet.

On Monday when I was walking to Mr Moon’s class for managers when I overheard Kitty and Min Ho talking inside, I quickly stepped back and listened from outside.

“Min Ho you’re losing her, she was so happy, literally glowed when you guys first got together, what happened?” Kitty demanded, “and don’t tell me things just didn’t work out because I’ve already heard that excuse, be honest with me,”.

I could hear a shuffle, and Min Ho taking a deep breath, “I don’t think she’d want us to be having this conversation right now,” he said.

‘Min Ho whatever you did I can see in your eyes that you care for her, so fix it before it’s too late,” Kitty says softly this time, then there’s a silence, “Oh my god,” she continued, “It wasn’t you, she ended it,” Kitty said.

“No, Kitty come on, it was a mutual decision,” he tried to argue, he tried to put in some conviction into it, but the lie was coming out weak.

“Min Ho,” Kitty said with conviction, “If you care for her you’ve got to fight, one thing I’ve learned from Lara-Jeans is that love isn’t easy and doesn’t always start in the way you expect it to, but it is worth it,” she said.

“Oh, hey Y/n,” Praveena said coming up to me, I could hear shuffles in the classroom “I wonder what Mr Moons has planned for this lesson,” she said completely ordinarily.

“Sorry I’ve got to go,” I said walking away quickly.

Later that afternoon after lessons had finished, I was leaving the main building to head back to the dorm, we were all having dinner in the boy’s dorm tonight and I was already running late because I had to tutor and bless the girl, but she was clueless. I was trying to use my arms to shield my face as much as possible from the rain that chucking down.

Then I heard a voice shout out, I turned around to see Min Ho, waking towards me.

“Y/n!” he called out and I stopped in my tracks, “finally you give me the time of day,” he says sharply, his tone makes me stand up straighter, “firstly so much for staying friends and acting normal,” he said and then ran a hand through his hair, water dripping down his face, “secondly-”

I interrupted him, “I’m sorry,”

“Y/n/”

“Look I’ve been talking to Josh and I-” this time he tried to interrupt me but I prevailed “Min Ho, he’s a good guy and I think,” I sighed, running my tongue over my lips, “I could really like him, and there’s plenty of girls waiting for you to give them a chance, but this thing between us, we blurred the lines and we need to stop” I said with the frustration coming through, rain falling harshly down my face, this is already hard enough, to know this is going to end, so why is he making it harder, giving my heart beats of hope, “We both deserve something real,” I sounded tired, even to my own ears.

“Y/n I don’t want this to end,” his voice came out just above a whisper, and I felt my heartbeat triple.

“What?” I asked, quieter than I expected.

“Look I know this was not the plan, but- I went to the club that night because I saw Marco and his buddies leave and they were teasing him about finally making a move on you, so I followed them, but I didn’t know why yet, then somewhere in this whole situation I realised that I was jealous, then it became real and I realised I didn’t want it to end, and ever time you’d bring up that we we’re doing it because of Marco it crushed me,” he said and I just stated at him.

“I think I fell in love with you,” he said looking at me, the rain pouring down his face, “A little bit… or a lot,”.

My eyes scan his face frantically. Min Ho had fallen for me. Just like I had fallen for him. Before he could move or say anything else, I fling my arms around him and kiss him passionately, holding him as close as I possible could, and that was still not close enough.

“I love you too,” I said after I pulled away, laying my forehead against his, I could see him smile before I closed my eyes again and he pulled me into a tight embrace. It felt like the relief was coursing through both of our bodies.

“It’s good to hear you finally admit it,” he said back to his natural cockiness, “Everyone eventually falls for me, it’s my charm unfortunately,” he said.

“Well stop using it on other girls or I might get jealous,”

“You know what? That does kind of make me feel some sort of way, I quite like my imaginary version of you jealous and it’s quite hot,” he muses, and I just pull him in for another kiss, running my hands through his hair. His hands on my waist pulling me close.

Then when we came back into the building, whilst still soaked, we came clean to our friends, and whilst most of them were shocked Kitty was very offended, but all in all they were glad we worked it out because it was obvious long before this that there was something bubbling under the surface.

“I can’t believe you pulled a Lara-Jean on me! Now I’ve fallen for it twice,” Kitty said running her hand over her forehead.

“I think this means Y/n is taking over the title of chaos queen,” Q said shaking his head, and everyone started laughing, Min Ho had his arm around me, and I naturally leaned into his chest as I giggled, and he kissed my forehead.

[raven-dor]

i'll be watching you

in which steve harrington can’t stop thinking about the one girl who believed in him

PAIRING: steve harrington x fem!reader, dustin henderson x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, young love, realization, ANGST ANGST ANGST, nostalgia, CRAZY amounts of yearning, obliviousness

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

AN: this hurt to write... enjoy!! (also the 'present' is the mid 90's, so Steve and you are in your late 20's)

Steve was utterly confused. First, he decides, of his own volition, to apologize to Jonathan Wheeler. Then, he knocks on the boy’s door to find Y/N, panic evident in her expression and her hand bleeding. 

He bursts in, worried about her safety, to then find that his girlfriend is also there, with a gun pointed at his face.

He was then dragged through the Wheeler’s house away from some sort of creature before finally being ushered out by Y/N, her words haunting him as he opened the car door. “I don’t want you wrapped up in this, Steve. Just leave it alone.” 

Why would she care? And why could she be involved, but not him? No, Steve thought to himself as he grabbed his bat, she could not go through this alone. (He would later reference this moment as the second his feelings for her grew past friendship.) Screams rang through the Byers property, and Steve burst through the door once more, swinging his bat and slamming the monster square in the face. 

Y/N was on the floor, grinning wildly at the boy before her. “Steve!” He ran over, extending his hand and pulling her into his arms. “What are you-” 

“Don’t tell me to leave it alone ever again.” He whispered.

She nodded, hugging him tightly. “Fine.” 

A cough interrupted their moment, and they pulled apart, remembering where they were. Y/N laughed, nudging the King of Hawkins lightly. “You’re quite the hero.” 

A chill ran down his spine, and he clenched his eyes shut. She made him crazy sometimes.

Steve groaned, shoving his face further into his pillow. Not again, he thought. This had been the third time this week he’d woke up this early. Every time it was the same, it was almost like he was going back in time, his dreams exactly as they had been in real life. 

And every time it revolved around her. 

He rolled over, staring at the ceiling. Why couldn’t he have a dream about puppies or his dream job?

His alarm clock rang, and his heart dropped. “Shit!” Jumping out of bed, he sprinted to the bathroom, fixing his hair as best he could in two minutes.

His real shift at his very real job started in ten minutes.

“Y/N!” 

God, she forgot how dismal this gym could be. All the horrible memories of middle school gym class came rushing back. Over by the locker room is where Tracy C. tripped her ‘on accident.’ The bleachers were where she’d sit when she wasn’t picked for dodgeball. 

And by the exit door was where she would secretly cheer for Steve as he played basketball. 

She was sure some of these kids, at least the ones she knew, had had the same happen to them. The doors to the gym opened for the hundredth time, Dustin Henderson walking through with what Y/N could only identify as a Steve Harrington special. 

She waved at the boy, smiling brightly as he walked across the gym to meet her.

She hoped he hadn’t seen her space out.

“Are you okay?” 

So he had. Y/N smiled, nodding. “Of course I am, now that you’re here.” He blushed. “You look very handsome, Dustin.” 

“Thank you.” He grinned. “Steve helped me.” 

“Really?” She smiled, laughing to herself. “That’s really nice of him.” 

“We’re friends now!” Dustin was still grinning. “He drove me here.” 

Her eyes darted toward the entrance, and the young boy’s face fell ever so slightly. “He said he doesn’t want to come in because…” He motioned for Y/N to lean down, whispering in her ear. “Because of Nancy.” 

Of course, how could she forget about Nancy? She loved her friend, but her heart ached to think about Steve’s undying love for her. “Ah.” She locked her lips, figuratively throwing away the key. “Your secret is safe with-” 

“Henderson.” 

She looked up, locking eyes with Steve’s instantly. He was beautiful in that color, she realized. It brought out the gold in his eyes.

“Wow.” Steve smiled shyly, rubbing a hand on his neck. “You-” 

“Are you kidding me?” He murmured as his eyes peeled open. 

This had to stop. 

He already deeply regretted his life choices, and now he couldn’t even escape them in sleep. He drove to work grumpily, parked his car grumpily, and stood at the Family Video counter grumpily. Robin laughed, shaking her head. 

“Woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” 

He glared, sticking his tongue out. “Good morning to you too, Robin.” 

“You’ve been pissy lately,” Robin said it like it was a fact like everyone in Hawkins had been talking about it. “What’s up, Harrington?” 

“I-” He couldn’t tell Robin, she would never let him live this down. No, this was the type of thing you kept to yourself, driving yourself crazy until- “Just had a rough night.” 

“Okay.” Her shoulders deflated, grabbing the cart full of VHS tapes. “Let me know when you want to tell the truth.” 

“Shit, shit shit.” Y/N’s eyes were glassy as she clung to Steve’s side, supporting him as he walked. “Why’d you have to be the hero?” 

“That’s part of my-” He winced, laughing as her face grew even more worried. “Part of my charm, babe.” 

Y/N ignored the way her cheeks flushed, leaning him against the giant boulder. “Just be quiet.”

He nodded, leaning his head back in pain. “No problem.” 

“Really?” She scoffed, muttering thanks as Robin handed her cloth to wrap around his (chiseled) abdomen. “You scared me, you know.” 

Her voice was soft, much softer than normal. It sounded weak; scared even. He frowned, reaching out and brushing her hair out of her eyes. “Didn’t mean to.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you did, Harrington.”

“Can you just-” He sighed. “Can you look at me? You haven’t met my eyes since you’ve gotten down here.” 

She shook her head, trying her best to wipe away the dirt from his gaping wound. “I really hope this doesn’t get infected.” 

“Y/N, come on.” He smiled, forcing himself not to cry out in pain. “Look at me.” 

“I think Eddie’s-” Robin received a hard glare from Steve, and she nodded, walking away without another word. 

Her face felt hot, eyes watery as she looked up at him. He grinned, whispering so that only they could hear. “There she is.”

“Here I am.” She whispered back, tears falling down her cheeks freely. “Now can I-” 

“I’m so mad at you right now.” 

Her head cocked to the side. “What?” She must have misheard him. 

“You heard me.” His tone was tense, but his eyes told a different story. “I said to stay in the boat, didn’t I? Don’t follow after me.” He scoffed, flailing his arms, pain ringing through his aching muscles. “And what did you do? You followed me.” 

“As opposed to what? Watching helplessly as you were dragged into hell?” She stood up, glaring. “Would you rather have died down here?” More tears fell as she stared, hissing at him so the others couldn’t hear. “You don’t have to do everything alone!” 

“I know that-” 

“Then why can’t I follow after you? Huh?” She glared. “You’re not the boss of-” 

“I didn’t want you wrapped up in this!” He yelled, Nancy, Eddie, and Robin jumping at the sound. “You should’ve left it alone.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, last I checked, I was involved first.” She yelled back. “Now shut up so I can fix you.” She knelt again, tying the cloth Robin gave her earlier gently around him. An uncomfortable silence fell over them before she spoke once more. “Just be careful, alright? I can’t do this without you.” 

“Y/N…” His eyes were watering, from the pain or what she said, he couldn’t tell. “I’m sorry.” 

“Good.” She wiped the dirt from her hands. “I’m sorry too, I guess.” She stood up, muttering. “Even though I have no reason to apologize.” 

He laughed, reaching out for her hold. “Could I-” 

“Yes! Yeah, of course.” His arm expertly laid around her shoulders, and in another life, they could have walked through Hawkins High like this. “Please stop acting like the hero. I can’t bear it.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

She nodded, her eyes full of desperation, and his heart skipped. Shit. “Yeah.” 

He nodded, kissing her temple gently. “Whatever you want, babe.” 

“Hey!” Eddie’s voice interrupted whatever was happening between them. “Why don’t you take a break? I can take care of Harrington for a bit.” 

“Are you sure?” Y/N frowned, not even bothering to look at her best friend, still staring up at Steve with that dangerous look in her eyes. “I really don’t mind.” 

“Y/N.” Steve whispered. “You’ve done enough for me to last a lifetime. I’ll be okay.” 

She looked hurt, but let go of Steve regardless. “Alright, he’s all yours, Munson.” 

Eddie waited until she was by Robin and Nancy to speak. “She was the first one to dive in after you.”

Steve smiled. “Really?”

Eddie nodded. “You know she likes you, right?” 

“I know.” He laughed as he watched her jump on Robin’s back. “I like her too.” 

“Good, good.” Eddie placed a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Just, don’t hurt her, okay? She seems strong, but…” 

“I won’t.” Steve was so confident in it, so sure. “I would never do anything to hurt her.” 

His latest dream had thrown him for a loop. Eddie, a man he was never close with in school, died hours after that. God, he thought as he ran through the streets of his neighborhood, that had been the last time he’d talked to the metalhead. 

His shower was cold, and not because he forgot to pay the water bill. He’d made it cold on purpose, maybe this was how he would stop having these dreams. 

Lately, they felt closer to nightmares. This one, in particular, had reminded him of how close they'd been, of how hard Y/N had taken it when Eddie had died. It had never been the right time to ask her, he kept telling himself, even after she left, and he stayed. 

'Never the right time' had been his downfall. 

Work had been the same, a mother asking for a children’s movie, a teenager who was obviously not old enough to rent an R-rated movie asking where they could find one, and an older couple asking for Gone With The Wind. The door rang for the fourth time that day, and he recited the same old boring greeting. “Welcome to Family Video, do you need-” He looked up, his breath catching in his throat. 

It couldn’t be. 

“It’s been a while, Harrington.” She laughed, and his heart fluttered. God, her laugh was still the most perfect sound he’d ever heard. “Are you doing alright?” 

“I-” He grinned. Was this real? It had to be- nope, he had officially losing it. He should have opened up to Robin when he had the chance.

“Hello?” She stepped forward, giggling. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’re spacing out on me. That’s my thing, you know. Not yours.” 

He laughed. “You look-” 

“Mama!” A little boy ran through the front door, clinging to Y/N’s leg. 

Steve’s head felt like it was spinning. 

“Hey, babe.” A man, around their age, walked up beside her, kissing her cheek gently. She grinned, leaning into his hold. “I tried to entertain him in the parking lot-” 

“It’s fine, honey.” She smiled, looking back at Steve with a sort of melancholy look. “This is Steve.” 

Steve waved, and the man waved back. Y/N’s cheeks were red, and in any normal situation, Steve would have laughed. She was cute when she was flustered. 

Right now, he couldn't find it in him to tease. He just wanted to curl up on the floor and die. “This is my husband Nick, and our son, Edmund.”

“No!” The little boy’s shrill yell livened up the place. 

Y/N laughed, looking down endearingly. “No, huh?” 

He nodded. “My name is Eddie.” 

Steve’s heart dropped, tears forming in his eyes as he stared at Y/N. Her husband laughed too, kneeling. “Kiddo, your nickname is Eddie. Your name is-” 

“Eddie!” 

‘Nick’ just laughed again, standing up. “There’s no convincing this one, I’m afraid.” 

Y/N stared back at Steve, trying to gauge his reaction. He finally spoke, finally said a full sentence for the first time since she’d walked in. “It’s a good name, Eddie.” 

She nodded, her eyes growing teary. “It is.” 

She was just as perfect as the last time he’d seen her. Radiant, happy, glowing, all things she was now. He knew, deep down, if he had told her that he loved her, she would have stayed, put her life on hold to be with him. And that - that was Steve’s worst nightmare. 

She had an actual chance, to leave, to make something of herself, and he wasn’t going to be the reason she never achieved it. He hadn’t, as he stared helplessly at her family, heart officially breaking when her husband set his hand on her growing stomach. “I get to name the next one.” 

Y/N shook her head, smacking his chest playfully. “I thought you said you liked Edmund.” 

“Kidding, babe.” He looked at Steve, smiling awkwardly. “Did you two know each other well?” 

Steve shook his head before he could think. “Just knew each other from school.” How do you tell the love of your life’s husband that you fought monsters together? He was almost sure Y/N hadn’t told him, and Steve didn’t blame her. He’d never told anyone either. “She was always the smart one, no one could keep up.” 

She wiped the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes, laughing. “I wouldn’t say that…” 

Nick, who was really a nice guy, Steve would later realize (even if he hated his guts at that moment) nodded. “You still are.” He looked at Steve again, laughing. “She runs circles around me. I wouldn’t have it any other way though.” He kissed Y/N on the cheek, staring at her the way Steve wished he could. “Keeps me young.” 

That had made Steve laugh. Damn it. Y/N had laughed too, rolling her eyes. “You're 29, Nick. Not exactly old here.” 

“Speak for yourself.” Nick clapped his hands, grabbing Edmund from his wife’s leg. “Have any cartoons for this one?” 

Steve nodded, leading them down the aisles toward the kid's section. “Aladdin’s a good one.” 

Eddie had lost energy as quickly as he’d gained it, Nick carrying him to the car with a haphazard ‘nice to meet you’ thrown in Steve’s general direction. 

Y/N stood in front of the counter, handing Steve the cash for the movie. Her tone was light as she spoke, almost like no time had passed. “He’s a good kid.” 

Steve smiled. “Takes after his mother.” 

“He-” Her voice sounded thick, and she stared at him with something Steve couldn’t quite place. “I hope you’re doing okay, really.” 

He nodded. That seemed to be all he could do now. “I am.” 

“Well…” She clapped her hands, walking back. “I’ll see you.” 

She pushed the door open, sparing one last look before disappearing from his sight.

Maybe, he thought to himself as his very soul began to die, it would have been better just to go mad. Go mad thinking about what could have been, rather than seeing her and realizing she had everything he'd hoped for.

Just not with him.

taglist: @kendallroydefender @beebeechaos

[ptergwen]

can you do a fic where one of the peters (garfield or holland) is making out with the reader and starts to kiss and bite her neck and the little sounds she makes drives him insane

three strikes

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w/c: 655

warnings: making out, suggestiveness

a/n: i went with tasm!peter hehe, def a fluffier approach to it but so so adorable & i hope you enjoy! keep the reqs coming y'all <3

winter in the city is magical. everything in the park is covered in a light dusting of snow, all the stone pathways and the trees, couples hand in hand and kids playing. then, there's peter. he's looking up at the sky with his tongue stuck out. he's so focused on trying to catch snowflakes that he doesn't notice you digging your hands into the snow, collecting a handful.

something hits peter's chest; a snowball. he looks across the way, where you're smiling mischievously. he brushes the snow off his jacket, chuckling. you're already making another snowball.

"i dunno, babe. i wouldn't do that if i were you."

despite peter's warning, you aim your arm to throw.

"you're playing with fire, you know that?"

"no, i’m playing with snow."

"oh, that's cute. really cute."

you promptly hit peter with the snowball. he raises a challenging eyebrow, and you know you're in for it. you start to run away, giggling, peter chasing after you. he's quick to catch up. he grabs your waist and pins you against a streetlight, breathing out smoke into the cold air through laughter.

"you wanna try that again?"

peter's gaze darts between your eyes and lips. you bite back a grin.

"kind of."

"what a shame. it'd be strike three."

"what happens after strike three?"

"you wouldn't get this."

peter leans in and kisses you. you loop your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. he hums in content, hands squeezing your waist and lips trailing over to your cheek. he pecks both your cheeks, your nose, just above your lips, peppering kisses all over your face until you're giggling and trying to push him away.

"no, no, no, stop! that tickles!"

peter kisses down your chin and back up, across your forehead, over to your temple. you grin despite yourself, tugging at his locks that are damp with snow.

"i’m serious, pete! stop it!"

"no can do, babe. can't help myself, you're just too damn cute."

peter pecks your cheek a few times, earning a noise of protest.

"so cute i could eat you up."

"nuh uh."

you pull the zipper of your jacket all the way up so it's covering the lower half of your face.

"yeah huh."

peter leaves big, lingering kisses on your forehead, each one punctuated with a mwah. when you realize he's not going to let up, you finally concede. you uncover your face and capture his lips with yours, the only way to make him stop. your nose nudges his, head tilting to look at him.

"are you done?"

"not even close."

peter kisses you again. you kiss him back, smiling into it. he moves your jacket out of the way and continues his kiss attack, this time on your neck. you let him have his fun, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin. you squeal when he finds one particular spot and nips at it.

"pete! what're you doing?"

"i told you, eating you up."

he playfully bites at your neck between a series of kisses, arms locked around your waist, drawing the most adorable sounds out of you that he can't get enough of. you thread your fingers through his hair.

"don't forget we're in public, mister."

your tone doesn't match your words, unconvincing, and you're resting your head on the lamp pole so peter has more access. he smirks.

"i know, they're just love bites."

he starts to suck at your neck. the pressure is light, but enough to leave a hickey. you play with his fluffy hair, letting out a noise between a sigh and a moan. you feel the vibrations from peter laughing. you feel something poking at your thigh, too.

"and you're telling me we're in public? whew, i think we'd better get you home."

"you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

peter answers by holding you in place and kissing down your neck, making you breathless from laughter.

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[scarletttries]

Write A Kiss Request: Roronoa Zoro (One Piece) x Reader ...a kiss out of habit

(prompt list here) & 2025 Request List - requests open

...a kiss for Roronoa Zoro out of habit

You and Zoro had never meant to keep this a secret. It wasn't something you were trying to hide, or to stop the crew from ever knowing. You were both just very private people, and always the last two left at the end of the night as the rest crew all went their separate ways.

You, as much as anyone, could appreciate Zoro's desire to stay in whatever bar you were docked beside until the place was closed and the owner had to politely ask you to leave through muffled yawns. You loved the Going Merry, and all the people that lived aboard, but when you spent so much time at sea you grew to savour every minute spent on dry land in a change of scenery with someone other than Sanji fetching you whatever the local drink of the region was. You knew Zoro did too, the slight variety that a change of scenery provided gave him more joy than he would admit to anyone but you.

So you formed a little routine. The two of you would stay out until all the local places had closed, and then you'd walk the long way back to the ship, exchanging stories and admiring whatever little details you could find to ground yourselves in each quaint town. You couldn't remember exactly which island had the intricately cobbled streets that almost knocked you off your feet, but after that you and Zoro never left a bar without your hand safely enclosed in his. You were sure the night breeze was comfortingly warm the first time you noticed just how many glances Zoro threw your way as you walked, gaze flickering between your entangled hands and your moonlit lips. And you would never forget the first time that instead of the long goodbye outside your cabin door that you had grown accustomed to, he had just leant forward and placed his lips on yours. He only kissed you for a split second before he withdrew, testing the waters neither of you could bring yourselves to acknowledge, relieved when you plunged back in and dragged his lips back onto yours, fingers combing through his short spiked hair.

Without ever putting a name to your bond, you two fell into an effortless routine of those sweet good night embraces while the rest of your crew slept. It became such a fundamental part of your life that in the nights you spent at sea Zoro would still find his way to your door when the sky grew dark, neither of you able to pass a restful night without that shared moment of desperate need. His strong hands firmly holding onto you as if you could drift away, his touch-starved soul aching for you in every moment you spent apart. Zoro prayed every night as he finally tasted your loving kiss that the sensation would fill his dreams, and give him strength enough to make it to another sunset before he could kiss you again.

***

After a particularly tireless battle one evening, the crew had gathered on the deck of the Going Merry to toast to the island they had just visited with a case of wine gifted by some very grateful locals. It had been too long since the whole crew had passed a night of merriment together, Luffy and Usopp dramatically retelling the best moments of their adventures while Nami laughed on and Sanji kept everyone's glasses topped up to the brim. You and Zoro settled side by side on the makeshift benches Luffy had quickly hobbled together for the occasion, exchanging warm smiles every time your heroics of the day were recalled by the two quarreling captains. It wasn't long until you felt the flush of wine in your cheeks, and a heaviness growing in your eyelids that was getting harder to fight back.

"You look as exhausted as I am!" Nami laughed out through a yawn, Luffy bursting into laughter as you immediately followed with a yawn of your own. Your friend and navigator rose to her feet, circling to stand behind you and resting one hand on your shoulder as she said more quietly, "I think it's time we both headed to bed."

You nodded at her suggestion, suddenly feeling the ache of exhaustion spreading through your bones now that it had been pointed out.

"Great party crew! But now I must say good night." You declared dramatically, stifling another yawn that set Nami off again. Before you rose to your feet you turned to face the swordsman nestled beside you, who quickly leant forward to capture your lips in a soft and sweet good night kiss. It was just a momentary embrace, a habit that had grown necessary to both of your nights, and with that you stood up and followed Nami towards the cabins. A moment of still hung over the night as the two of you stepped through the first door separating you from the others just as Sanji and Usopp cried out in unison,

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?"

"Nami, did I just kiss Zoro in front of everyone?" You asked without daring to glance her way.

"Yup!" She chirped back without an ounce of shock in her voice, a far cry to the chorus of voices calling out behind you.

"Why aren't you surprised, Nami?"

"Because I've walked past you two kissing half a dozen times. Sometimes I like to make tea at night when Sanji's not around to pester me, and you two have absolutely no sense of your surroundings whenever you're together." She shrugged nonchalantly, unlocking the door across from yours.

"I'd say we won't make a habit of it.." You started your sentiment alone before Nami joined, "but it's too late for that."

If you enjoyed this please send in my Roronoa Zoro requests and check out my one piece masterlist!

[boybandbaby]

Girl Can’t Help It (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

word count: 2994

warnings/tags: established relationship, 18+ only MDNI, inexperienced!spencer and inexperienced!reader, massage, dry humping?, grinding, mattress humping, cum in pants, hand (Spencer’s ) kink, clit stimulation, nipple play

Spencer had been doting on you all day. You’d both had the day off and planned to spend it together. Not only that but it was the first time you’d be spending the night together.

Your relationship had only blossomed within the last few months. You’d both taken everything really slow including flirting, then dates, and then making it official. While you’d been dating for about 7 months, you’d only been official for about 3. Some of this was due to your job with the BAU, but essentially it came down to both of your inexperience.

You both knew there was really no timeline for a relationship and decided to do this at your own pace, whatever made you both comfortable and happy.

Here you were on a Friday morning, slipping a cardigan on, and not so patiently waiting for Spencer to let you know he arrived. You were excited yet nervous about the next step in your relationship. Spencer would be staying over and seeing you first thing in the morning. While initially there was some dread and nerves about that idea, you tried to erase it away.

Just as you were packing the essentials for the day in a small bag, you heard a knock on your door. Checking your phone for any texts from your boyfriend but not finding any, had your brow furrowing. You check the peephole to see his face pressed closely to the door, only one of his eyes visible.

You shake your head and laugh, pulling the door open. “Good morning, baby.” You pucker your lips as he slips inside. He gives your lips a short peck and then one to your forehead before he’s rushing to put a brown paper bag and two drinks down. You help him out by grabbing his duffel off the doormat and bringing it inside.

“What’s all this?” You smile and close the door. “Thought we were going to breakfast?”

“Actually, change of plans. Which I’m sorry for but I think you’ll like our new plans.” He hands you your favorite drink from the cafe where you had your first date. His hands then reach for the brown bag and his face is shoved into it, searching for the pastry he picked out for you.

“Okay, spill.” You take a sip.

“Well, I was thinking. There’s this new exhibit at the museum we were talking about last week. I thought maybe we could go to that and then stop by the bookstore and then try that new Greek restaurant down the street. You know the one with the cool logo? Then I figured we could go to the store and get food and snacks for dinner and a movie and turn in early.” He hadn’t realized but his hand tightened on the bag as he rambled, afraid he had done too much or maybe you wouldn’t want to do any of the things he said.

“Sounds like a plan, baby.” You place your cup down on the coffee table. “Now, I’ll only go with you today if you let me pay for lunch.”

He opens his mouth to protest, “nope. We already talked about this. I said the first time we try it, I pay and if you try to pay while we’re there I’ll revoke your sleepover pass. Sound like a deal?”

“Sounds like a deal.” He smiles, offering your pastry. You take a bite as he’s holding it and lean forward for a kiss. He already has powdered sugar on his lips from taking a bite of his own sweet treat.

Throughout the day, Spencer holds your bag, ties your shoes when they come undone, refills your drink at lunch when it’s just ice. You try to return the favor by carrying his books as he browses the shelves, instant regret when your shoulder aches from how heavy the stack is. You suffer through as he excitedly pulls a brown book from the highest shelf and explains the authors interesting childhood.

Once you hit the grocery store, Spencer takes over with pushing the cart and grabbing all the items. You cling to his side as you rest against him. It makes it harder to walk but he doesn’t mind, he knows you’re beat from the day of activities.

You get home shortly after and both change into pajamas and cook a quick dinner.

Once dinner was over, you had retreated to the bedroom, Spencer only catching a portion of what you said you were doing. Something about needing a moment to let your stomach settle.

Spencer didn’t mind, packing the leftovers of your meal in two containers for you both to have tomorrow on a surprise picnic he’s planned. He washes the dishes, wipes the counters and table, then sweeps the floor before turning the light off. He thinks he’s given you enough alone time and he’s ready to smother you in affection.

You remove the pillow from your face when he enters. He tiptoes into the room with your bag of snacks.

“You feeling okay?” He watches you sit up and wince, he himself crawling over to you on the bed. He rests on his knees and sits on his calves, bringing your face in his hands. He scans your face only to find a pout and closed eyes.

“My body aches. I don’t think I’ve been this exhausted since that case in Florida we did a few weeks ago. I think I was so excited about today I burned through all my energy by the time we got to the grocery store.”

Spencer laughs, closed mouth and shy. His hands slowly slide from your cheeks and jaw down your necks and onto your shoulders. His fingers squeeze and knead at the tension. “It probably didn’t help that you carried all my new books.”

“I offered.” You shrug, eyes still closed and melting into his touch. “Wanted to do something nice for you since you do nice things for me all the time. Like massaging me.”

“You do nice things for me all the time too. Like pay for lunch.” He quips.

“Only after a mild argument.” You open one eye, “stubborn you are.”

“Not stubborn, just a gentleman.”

“You really are. Your hands feel so nice.” You drag out the so.

Spencer has become more comfortable initiating physical touch with you over the last few weeks as you both test your boundaries. While you haven’t had sex yet, you’ve made out some and definitely cuddle most days.

He decides to push the limit a little bit, see where you’re at with moving forward. “Do you want a back massage?” He cringes at the way he blurts it out.

He watches your eyes open up and how you bite your lip while thinking. You don’t want to sound too eager at the idea of his hands on your body. You ponder before nodding.

You shuffle to lay on your stomach, belly full of food and butterflies. Spencer shuffles to stand as you shuffle towards one end of the bed.

“Do you have lotion or something?” He looks around.

“Bathroom.” You mumble as you pull a pillow beneath your head, hugging your arms around it.

Spencer jogs over to the bathroom and searches in the cabinet for lotion. Once he gets it he runs back into the room. He’s stunned when he sees that you’ve removed your shirt. Sure your back is the only thing in sight but knowing you’re half naked makes him falter in his movements.

“Babe, I uh, I could only find the vanilla lotion. Is that one okay?” He clears his throat.

“Yeah…” You nearly whisper, sensing his change in energy, not sure if you’ve overstepped. You know taking off your shirt is something you’ve never done around him, it’s new for both of you.

He steps forward and runs lotion in his palms. He tentatively presses his palms, fingers stretched out against your skin.

He starts rubbing in circles, applying slight pressure, watching as the lotion disappears into your skin.

“You’re going to have to massage me after. I’m too tall for this.” He smiles, back aching as he leans over you.

“Well come closer, come sit with me.” You urge. “But don’t stop, it feels too nice.”

“Straighten your legs, I’m going to sit on the back of your thighs.” He pushes your thigh closer to your other leg. He hops onto the bed and throws his pajama clad legs over your thighs.

Your breath hitches at the position and Spencer senses your body tense up. “You’ve gotta relax. Isn’t that the whole point of a massage?”

“You’re right. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” He smiles before bringing his hands up to your shoulders. His hands rub along the curves of your neck before trailing down the sides of your body. His hands squeeze at the sides just under your armpits where your bra would be.

You bury your face in the pillow, suppressing a moan as best as you can.

“Can you breathe over there?” He laughs.

“Shut up and do your job.” You yell into the pillow. He laughs again and continues his work.

Spencer runs his hands down the curve of your lower back, fingers grazing just above your waistband. Your body reacts on its own. You let out a half moan half squeal as your hips grind into the bed.

Spencer already knew you were getting turned on just by your sounds but actually feeling it beneath him has him hooked. He scoots up, pushing you into the mattress deeper.

You let out a sigh and he sees your fingers grip onto the pillow case. His clothed cock is pressed up against your covered butt.

He decides to experiment and grind his hips against you, his hands kneading small circles to keep him grounded above you.

You’re both glad you can’t see each other’s faces or else you’d feel embarrassed enough to stop. Just as his hips come forward again, you push yours back, back arching slightly.

Spencer whimpers at the contact and finds himself falling forward. He barely catches himself before crushing you.

“Are you okay?” He whispers near your ear. His voice and breath on your ear cause a shiver to run through your entire being. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

“No, it’s really good. You’re good at this.” You turn your head to try and look at him.

“Want me to keep going?”

You nod and wiggle your hips. “I think you missed a spot.”

“Did I? Tell me where.” He sits back up and places his hands on the center of your back.

“Lower.” You mumble. His hands move down, pressing and gripping at your skin. He knows he didn’t miss anything, he made sure of that. His hands stop on your hips before he’s slowly grinding into you again.

He’s unbelievably hard, has been since your first suppressed moan. He settles his cock in the crease of your thighs and cheeks. He ruts his hips forward and watches you grind with him.

“Fuck…” he groans out in a low voice. “Feels good.”

“Don’t stop, baby.” You moan. Spencer is most likely leaving bruises with his tight grip but it feels so good to hear him and have him like this. You’re usually composed and respectful boyfriend, falling apart at just the touch of your bodies, not even naked, makes you forget any pain.

“I’ve been wanting this, you, for a while.” He grunts.

“I’ve been wanting you, Spencer. Couldn’t wait much longer.” You whine. The friction of your underwear and pajama bottoms, the bed sheets and mattress against your pussy has you panting.

It’s when his hands caress your sides, moving upwards higher as his fingertips graze the sides of your breasts, you feel him losing control.

“Shit, I’m close already.” He breaths.

“Yeah? Keep going.” You urge. Spencer pins you down into the mattress as his hips sloppily drill into you.

“Feels so fucking good.” He leans forward and drops his forehead to the back of your head. You prop yourself onto your elbows, sitting up only a bit. Spencer wraps his right arm around your shoulders, holding you against his chest as his left hand moves down to hold onto the side of your left thigh.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” You turn your head to meet his. His forehead now rests on your temple as he pants into your ear.

“God yes, I’m-“ He shuts his eyes, hands holding onto you for dear life. He doesn’t finish his sentence as he makes a mess in his boxers and pants. It almost feels never ending with ropes of his liquid painting his plaid boxers. He lets out a low groan. He feels sticky and messy and dirty as his breathing falters. His chest rises and falls against your back.

You smirk as he buries his face in your hair. He chuckles before shaking his head. “That’s just embarrassing.”

“It’s wasn’t.” You assure. “It was hot. Love hearing you like that.”

He feels his entire face, neck and ears turn hot. “Come lay with me.” He murmurs. He sits up and pulls you up with him. Before you can turn around, he’s pulled you back onto his chest. He lays haphazardly against the headboard and pillows.

“You don’t want to clean up?” You laugh as he wiggles you both into a comfortable position.

“No, wanna feel you.” He whispers huskily into your ear as you lay back against his chest. His right arm is wrapped around your chest, both breasts covered by his forearm as his left hand wraps lower, around your belly.

“I wanna feel you too.” You cover his hands with your own.

“I think you already did.” He laughs.

“Not fully!” You protest. “Take off your shirt.”

He doesn’t argue, pushing you forward so he can throw his shirt off. He tosses it onto the floor before yanking you back against him.

“Can I touch you?” He asks. “I want you to cum for me.”

You nod and began pulling your bottoms down. You lift your hips and shimmy the fabric off your legs before balling them up and tossing them somewhere.

Your head rests against his left shoulder as you sit between his open legs. You can feel his semi hard cock against your lower back and you picture how messy he is. The thought has you bending your knees and spreading them open. Your feet lay flat as you wait for him. His left arm wraps under your breast, fingers playing with your nipple.

You moan and arch your back slightly. He stops your movement with his arm in place. His right hand, trails down your stomach and soon dips into your folds. It’s almost humiliating how wet you are. Spencer reassures that’s not the case when he hums at the first touch.

“Wow,” he gasps. “Made you this wet from a little dry humping.” It’s slightly teasing.

“Shut up,” you laugh. “Can’t help getting wet at the sounds you were making.” You attempt to make fun of him but it falls short when his fingers find your clit. “Oh..”

Spencer pinches at your nipple as his middle and pointer finger make circles against your clit. Every so often his fingers dip lower to collect your wetness and smear it along your pussy.

“It’s not fair.” You moan. “I didn’t even get to touch you.”

“I thought your body aches, huh?” He kisses the shell of your ear. “I’m supposed to be helping you relax.”

“I’m relaxed.” You whine. Your body betrays you as your chest rapidly rises and falls. “Don’t stop.”

His fingers continue working your clit as his hand cups the whole of your boob. Your head lolls to the right and meets his jaw. You’re somehow relaxed, lazy, and sluggish against him as your insides burn and the intensity increases.

“I fucking love your hands.” You cry out. “Keep going please.”

“Anything for you my sweet girl.” From this angle he can see your face. Your head is thrown back against his chest, eyes closed and mouth in an “O.”

Spencer notices the way your legs twitch and your toes curl against the sheets. Your hands grip his thighs and he hears the soft sound of your voice rambling, “right there, right there, don’t stop, oh fuck, please please please, right there.”

It happens suddenly, your body tensing and spasming against his. You let out a long moan that turns into a sigh as you slump against him. Spencer keeps his arms wrapped around your body as he leans his cheek on top of your head.

“I would say this has been a successful first sleepover so far.” He jokes. You laugh, loudly and unfiltered. He follows suit and laughs with you. When the laughter dies down, he asks, “Should we go shower?”

“Together?” You twist to see him.

“Yeah, if you’re okay with that.” He shrugs.

“You’ve seen me naked, now I get to see you.” You pump your eyebrows twice.

“You will not be seeing me naked. You better keep your eyes focused on my neck, up. No wandering.”

“That’s so unfair, babe.” You push yourself up, grabbing a pillow to cover your body.

“Hey!” He scrambles off the bed. “Don’t cover up now.”

“If I can’t see your goodies, you can’t see mine.” You back away, turning to exit while pulling the pillow to cover your backside.

Spencer runs after you and pulls the pillow away before wrapping his arms around you. “Fine, you can see my goodies.” He rolls his eyes.

You wiggle your brows before pulling back and hooking your fingers into his bottoms. As you pull away from his body, you pull his waistband out. You peek down and see the inside of his pants. He’s still hard and covered in his mess. “Oh wow, I think I’ve found my second favorite body part of yours.”

[bring-forth-his-sac]

Not sure if this is too far but maybe some dads best friend mixed in with close calls and very rough stuff if ya know what I mean 😏

Stained

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings/Tags:  rough sex, degrading name calling (slut), mentions of a facial, cheating (soz Lucille), alcohol consumption, hair pulling, semi-public sex

It happened again.

By now, Negan knows the routine. Argue. Say shit neither one of them can take back. Lucille kicks him out or else Negan reaches his limit and storms out. Make up later. It’s their pattern.

But tonight is different. 

They were supposed to go to a friend’s house for dinner, which threw a wrench in their usual routine. A part of Negan still wanted to go. Sure, he dreaded the tension-filled conversation, Lucille throwing in her usual passive-aggressive digs, but there was a silver lining: he could vent afterward. He needed to. To someone who’d actually get it, without the sugar-coating.

Negan has been friends with your dad for years, long enough to know they could trade a few sharp words and move on without it turning into some dramatic scene. Sometimes, Negan could really use that kind of blunt, no-nonsense talk with another guy. 

But hell, he wouldn’t mind shooting the shit with you either. You always got his humor and honestly, you were the only one who could make him laugh without trying so damn hard.

Instead of your home, he finds himself at a bar. Lucille was quick to call dibs on going solo to your parents house, not wanting to deal with Negan in front of friends. 

He left without another word, driving to the local watering hole like a man on a mission.

The bar is the usual kind of dimly lit place that doesn't ask questions. Negan doesn’t need questions tonight. What he needs is a drink and a distraction.

He settles onto a chair by the bartop and orders a whiskey, the burn of it going down smoother than he expected.

Lucille’s parting words echo in his head, the sharpness of her dismissal stinging all over again. The way she had shut him down so easily, almost like telling off a child. Negan can feel the frustration creeping back in. He could’ve used a laugh tonight but instead, he’s stuck here. 

Alone, as usual.

On a typical night, Negan hates how quiet the bar is. He can’t stand silences, everything about it gets on his nerves. The patrons are too tight to even cough up a quarter to play a song on the jukebox. It always feels like the kind of place where the air is thick with nothingness and every minute stretches on longer than the last.

Negan doesn’t have the luxury to brood over that on this particular night. Instead, the loud chattering of a group of girls fills the bar, cutting through the silence like a chainsaw.

Just a handful of them crowd around a table, all bright-eyed and wide smiles, laughing as though the weight of the world hasn’t yet found them.

His brow furrows as he watches them out of the corner of his eye. They’re not doing anything wrong but the racket they’re making feels invasive in the normally subdued space. 

Every time they laugh, the sound hits him like a hammer to his skull, ringing in his ears. It’s like a constant, steady hum of disruption. Negan can appreciate a little noise and some new life in the place, but tonight?

Tonight, it’s too much. It’s frustrating him. He takes another swig of his whiskey but it doesn’t quite block out their high-pitched, frantic laughter. 

One of the girls spills a drink, and the others burst into a fresh round of giggles, the kind that seems to echo through the entire room. 

He’s about to look away when another girl quickly picks up the drink and continues to say something. She's sitting across from the others, leaning forward and talking animatedly, her hands flying through the air with each word. 

One of her hands subtly goes to her thigh and she tries to discreetly yank down her dress. 

Negan wonders if women know they don’t need to wear tight mini dresses or the crop tops to get laid. But he supposes that’s the joy of being a  youngster. They do stupid shit, wear stupid shit, drink stupid shit. Some grow out of it while others still say stupid shit and end up drinking alone at a bar.

His eyes flicker over her figure. Negan can’t see her face, the angle of her head and the way her body is half-turned away from him hides it. 

Negan doesn’t mind. He can still appreciate her thighs and the curve of her ass from his seat at the bar. Her hair and back covers most of her upper body too so Negan can’t appreciate any titty action just yet.

His fingers drum against the bar and he catches himself, realizing that he’s staring. He quickly looks away, taking another drink of his whiskey as if the liquid will wash away whatever was just stirred up inside him.

In a way, Negan’s glad you’re not like that. You’re pretty without all the extra shit. Since elementary school, you've never been the type to crave attention or stand out in a crowd. Yet you're not the kind of introvert who keeps completely to yourself either.

You fall somewhere in the middle, comfortable with who you are without needing to put on a show for anyone.

There’s been plenty of times you’ve been the most entertaining thing to Negan at your parent’s dinner parties. He loves the witty remarks you toss his way and how you both quietly poke fun at the evening while the others remain oblivious. Those little moments are the highlight of his night.

But, of course, there are also those other times. When a careless comment from your father or mother hits a nerve and you retreat into yourself, disappearing into the background. Negan can always tell when that happens; the sharpness in your eyes dulls and the sarcastic remarks you usually offer him vanish. 

He wonders if you’ll be disappointed tonight, when it’s only Lucille who arrives for dinner. You make the dinners bearable for him but surely you reciprocate that feeling. Both of you are as thick as thieves in your own subtle way.

The woman he’s been checking out stands, saying one more quick thing to her friends before she turns and heads for the bar.

Maybe it’s because you’re already clouding his thoughts that seeing you in person hits him even harder. He’s imagined you a thousand times, with your quiet demeanor and the casual clothes you wear that make you almost invisible.

The mental image of you is so vivid, it’s like you’ve been etched into his mind… yet here you are, so different than that.

You do the same action that you did earlier, yanking down the end of your dress as it threatens to ride up your thigh. Negan lets out a gulp, not sure how he feels at the fact that he’s been checking out his friend’s daughter.

Turning back to say something to your friends, you let out a laugh as you clog along in your high heels to the bar. 

This is exactly what you needed. A night away from all your worries and stresses… and your parents. 

Besides, you're an adult now. You’re allowed to have fun! Whether that be crazy golf, drinking until you need your stomach pumped or smoking whatever. No matter how much guilt or pressure your parents try to put on you, tonight is yours. You’re no longer bound by their expectations. You can take a break from being the person they want you to be and just be.

Maybe that’s why the words “Lydia found out her boyfriend cheated so everyone was going to go over to hers and cheer her up!” came out of your mouth when you told your parents you couldn’t stay for dinner instead of “We all want to go out and down tequila shots!”.

Whether your actual reasoning would’ve worked or not, it doesn’t matter because they let you out with no more than a remorseful look as you left to help your heartbroken friend.

“Get more salt sachets!” a giddy Lydia calls out as you clip-clop up to the bar. 

You’re so caught up in your own little bubble of excitement that you barely notice the guy at the bar. You wait beside him, leaning on the counter and waiting until the bartender comes over. When you feel his eyes linger, you glance his way, wondering if you’ve found some fun for the night. 

You look over, pre-emptively batting your eyes lashes everything seems to slow down. There, standing just a few inches away, is Negan. Your dad’s friend. 

You freeze for a moment, excuses caught in your throat, as you realize that it’s not just the familiarity of his face that’s throwing you off. It’s the way he's looking at you. Negan’s expression is unreadable but the way his gaze lingers has a weight that catches you off guard.

You try to swallow the sudden lump in your throat. What is he thinking? How long has he been standing there? And why, of all people, did it have to be him?

You hate it. On one hand, you want to ignore him. Maybe give him a nod of acknowledgment before pretending like you’re not in front of someone you’ve known since you were a kid. 

But on the other hand, you know what Negan’s like and the last thing you want is for him to loudly draw attention to your… friendship? 

Ushering yourself closer, you hurriedly whisper “What are you doing here?!”.

Negan struggles to maintain his composure, forcing himself to keep his eyes on your face instead of letting them wander. 

“What am I doing here?” His jaw clenches as if readying himself to barrage you with questions “What are you doing here, dressed like that? Are you drunk? Do your parents know you’re here? I swear….”.

You scoff defensively, glancing down at the glass of whiskey in front of him. “Oh so I can’t go out with friends but you’re allowed to drown your sorrows?”.

Negan doesn’t even entertain your question, immediately waving it off. “That’s not the damn point,” he hisses “I’m not the one with my tits out and stumbling around a bar!”. 

He shoots some other patrons a glare as they try to eavesdrop, making sure they keep their eyes to themselves. You gasp, putting a hand on your chest. Maybe your dress is a lower cut than what you’d usually wear but your boobs aren’t about to pop out of the thing!

“You— you can’t talk to me like that!” despite how your face flushes, you stand your ground. You’ve always known Negan to be raunchy but not once has he ever spoken to you like this before.

"Can't talk to you like what?” Negan doesn’t give you the time to ponder that rhetorical question, crossing his arms as he continues to lecture you.

“You think you look appropriate right now? You think your parents would approve of this outfit?" his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“I’m out with friends, not at dinner with my parents!” You defend, deciding to add in your own jab “Besides, I thought you were at theirs tonight, having dinner with Lucille… not drinking alone”.

Negan can’t keep still. He’s too antsy, wanting to shake some sense into you but trying to stay cool in public.

With an elbow propped up on the bar, Negan points a finger at you “Watch it, before I haul your ass outta here”.

This is the closest you’ve ever seen Negan to real anger. Whenever he’s been at your house, it’s always been the aftermath of it you’ve witnessed. His sullen mood and Lucille’s small comments at him whenever the conversation allowed; both of them handling their simmering frustration in their own way. 

To not only witness his anger first hand, but to have it directed at you… you’re not sure if you want to pout or get on your knees right then and there.

You scoff, trying to seem unbothered. “Enjoy your drink, I’m going back to my friends,” you say it with just enough sass, turning to retreat back to your table.

You know it’s a pointless endeavour. 

Negan won’t allow it. And you know it.

His hand snakes around your upper arm, his grip firm but not painful. "Oh no you don't,” he tugs you back, urging you to face him again “we’re leaving. Now”.

You were hoping for a little more time here, a bit more back-and-forth, rile him up before hopefully breaking down those stubborn walls. 

“You can leave, but I’m not!” you snap, digging your heels in.

He leans in close, his anger flaring back to life as his voice drops into a dangerously low growl. “I’m not asking you, sweetheart, I’m telling you” the pet name slips out like a command, making something tighten in your chest. 

“You’re drunk, you’re dressed like a goddamn slut and you’re not staying in this bar another second”.

Is it bad you can feel the heat between your legs as he degrades you? How is it your dad’s friend, someone you kinda considered your own friend too, is calling you a slut so easily? And why does he keep trying to steal quick glances at your chest?

Heh, well, you know the answer to that last question.

Still, you play your part and you slap his arm. “Don’t call me that! Jackass” you say with a defiant huff.

His eyes widen but Negan doesn’t acknowledge the slap in the way you wanted him to. Instead of continuing to bicker, he grabs his leather jacket from the back of his chair and throws it on, his movements sharp. 

“Jackass?” he repeats, clearly not amused.

“Yes! You’re acting like a major jackass!” you fire back, though there’s a glimmer of amusement in your voice. 

Negan grins, that mocking, almost wicked smile spreading across his face as steers you away from the bar.

“Yeah, and you know what else I am?” he asks “The one dragging your drunk, barely dressed ass out of this bar before you make a complete fool of yourself”.

He starts tugging you toward the exit. “I had like… two drinks!” you protest, stumbling slightly to keep up.

But just as he’s about to drag you out the door, you use all the momentum you have to shove him into the door right next to the exit. 

The ladies toilets. 

Your friends giggle as you both disappear from sight, assuming you’re hooking up with the stranger. They’ve always known you have a thing for older men but little do they know who he really is…

Negan stumbles into the bathroom, his mind still trying to process how he went from the exit to somehow ending up in here instead. His brow furrows as he takes in the situation.

Before he can say a word, you speak, your voice steady but firm “Negan, I’m not leaving”.

He steps closer “Yes. You. Are. We’re leaving. Right. Now”. His hand shoots out to grab your arm, but you’re already one step ahead. You sidestep him, narrowly avoiding his grip.

“No!” you exclaim, more forcefully than you intended. Hoping to get through to him, you soften your tone, offering a sliver of vulnerability. “My parents don’t know I’m here… they think I’m just at a friend’s place” you admit.

Your words hang in the air, a soft confession of rebellion. But Negan’s response is as expected—he rolls his eyes, the action exaggerated as if he’s heard this excuse a thousand times before. 

“I don’t give a fuck if your parents ground you for a year!” He snaps, his voice low but intense “You’re not staying here dressed like that and acting like this”.

“Acting like what? Having fun?”.

His jaw clenches. “By acting like you’re only worth a quick fuck in the backseat of someone’s car,” Negan replies, the words carrying a weight that makes your stomach sink.

The insult stings, but you refuse to back down. With a small scoff, you shake your head and tilt your chin up slightly. “You’re telling me you didn’t do that when you were young?” you challenge.

Negan’s expression falters for a split second, his lips twitching as if he’s about to crack a grin but he maintains his steely expression. 

He exhales sharply through his nose, his stance stiffening. “I did it because I’m a guy,” he mutters, his tone clipped “so it’s different”.

“That’s misogynist,” you point out as you cross your arms, unintentionally making your cleavage more noticeable.

For a moment, you catch Negan’s gaze flickering downward before snapping back up to your eyes, his face strained. 

His lips press together in a tight line, his eyes briefly closing in frustration as he fights to maintain his composure. “Fuck, can you just…” Negan gestures vaguely at you “Cover up or something?”.

Without waiting for an answer, Negan turns away, running a hand through his dark locks. 

You let out a quiet sigh. “I didn’t bring a jacket,” you say flatly, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.

He mutters something under his breath, too quiet for you to catch. With a dramatic huff, he whips off his leather jacket. “Of course you didn’t. On top of everything else, you want to get hypothermia too” His voice drips with exasperation.

Negan turns back to you, holding out the jacket, his eyes briefly look to your chest again before quickly darting back to your face, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You catch the slight pause, the way his gaze betrays him, but you choose not to acknowledge it— at least, not directly. You stare him down, not hiding the smirk plastered on your face. Then, in one swift movement, he practically hurls the jacket at you. 

“Here,” he says, the word a little too resigned.

Instinctively, you catch the jacket, but you don’t put it on. Instead, you hold it in your arms, letting it drape over them as you roll your eyes at his comments. 

“I’m not some delicate little flower,” you tease, your smirk becoming playful “maybe I like it rough”.

The words slip out without thinking, a little too flippantly, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

Maybe those two drinks were enough to get you tipsy after all.

Negan’s eyes narrow at you and you can see the gears turning in his head. There’s a flicker of something in his expression. Maybe amusement, maybe disbelief, but before he can say anything, you catch the faintest hint of a smirk forming on his lips.

He steps closer, his imposing frame shadowing you as he leans in. “Damn, you’re something else,” he says, his voice thick with something you can’t quite place.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the overwhelming presence he has, but for the first time tonight, you feel a small shiver run up your spine. 

“Rough, huh?” His words are like a threat, his tone smooth and dangerous.

Before you can respond, his hand shoots out, and suddenly, he has a firm grip on your hair, tugging it just enough to pull your head back. 

“Ow! Negan!!” You whine, your voice a mix of surprise and irritation. Good job at proving you like it rough.

He loosens his grip, but his fingers stay tangled in your hair, holding you captive in his gaze. He stares down at you, his dark eyes boring into yours. 

“You think I don’t notice how gorgeous you are?” he murmurs, his voice low, almost possessive “But this? Telling me you like it rough? Tsk, tsk, tsk”. 

Your heart skips a beat at the admission, and your eyes widen ever so slightly. The words settle in your chest, warm and electric, and for a split second, everything else fades away. 

Negan thinks you’re gorgeous. 

You can barely process it but you don’t get a chance to let the moment settle. His fingers tighten in your hair again, this time with purpose. 

“There’s a difference,” he growls, his voice rougher now, “between making eyes at some random guy at a bar and teasing a man who actually knows what to do with you”.

You swallow hard. His grip on you, the way he towers over you, his scent— all of it feels like a pressure you can’t escape. You can barely breathe.

“And you…” You pause, testing the waters “You know what to do with me?”.

And then, possibly the most un-hot thing happens. A toilet flushes. The sound is loud and sudden, causing you both to freeze. It comes from one of the stalls at the end of the room and it’s quickly followed by the drunken shuffling of feet and a zipping noise. 

Without a word, you and Negan lock eyes, an unspoken agreement passing between you in that single, charged moment. 

“Shit,” Negan mutters under his breath, his hand still tangled in your hair, but now pulling you toward the nearest empty cubicle with urgency. 

“Ouch!” you whisper, batting at his hand and making him untangle his hand from your hair. You barely have time to shoot him a glare before he’s guiding you into the small space, his body close behind you.

Just as the cubicle at the end of the room unlocks, the lock to your cramped cubicle slots into place with a soft click.

For a moment, you both hold your breath. You’re pressed together in the cramped space, his chest against your back, your bodies flush together.

You hear the drunken patron stumble, mumbling something unintelligible as they turn on one of the taps and start washing their hands. You both hold still, waiting for the heavy footsteps to move away. Negan holds you against him, one hand on your waist to keep you close. 

Although that’s not the only thing that’s touching you. 

It’s hard not to notice the unmistakable press of his semi-erect cock nestling against the curve of your ass. It feels firm yet pliant, a promise of things to come. 

Turning your head just enough to look up at him through your eyelashes. He doesn’t meet your gaze, too busy zoning into some spot in the stall door as he listens intently to the patron outside.

His brow furrows just slightly, the lines on his forehead deepening as he focuses. You can tell he's strategizing, weighing up different excuses in case he’s caught in the ladies room. Negan’s lips are pressed together, a slight tension around them, but it's not a scowl. 

Deciding you want some attention, you press your ass back slightly. You hear a grunt.

“You’re not making this easy on me,” he huffs. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck as he looks down.

Through the thin walls, you can hear the drunk go on their way, their footsteps slowly fading as they stagger out of the bathroom. The door swings shut with a final, echoing creak. 

As if to prove his point, Negan moves his hips forward, forcing his erection against your ass. He’s harder than you thought and you shudder at the mere size of the thing in his pants. 

He makes a quiet, pleased sound against your ear as his hand trails up your waist, teasing passing the side of your breast before settling on the back of your neck. 

“Fuck, you're responsive…” He pulls back slightly, making sure you can still feel him.

“Is that a good thing?” you ask softly.

He chuckles, his voice low and husky. “It's a dangerous thing, darlin,” he squeezes your neck teasingly “Nothing good ever comes from being too responsive... unless you're trying to drive a man wild”.

“Maybe that’s exactly why I’m trying to do” you push back against him again, this time bending your body slightly to really accentuate your ass.

Except all that does is encourage your dress to ride up your thighs again, stopping just before your ass. Grabbing his leather jacket from your arms, Negan tosses it up on the stall door before moving to your thighs.

Negan isn’t a one to waste time, especially when it comes to taking advantage of certain situations. Bringing both hands down to your thighs, he helps you dress by tugging it up in one swift movement. You let out a gasp as the cool, thankfully air conditioned bathroom making the skin on your ass get goosebumps.

“Negan! I-“ you move to turn away so he can’t see your ass but Negan’s one step ahead this time.

 Looping an arm around your torso, he makes sure you keep the squirming to a minimum. With his other hand, he brings it down between your legs and presses a finger against your panties.

He holds you in place, bent at the hips and ass against his crotch. You can feel the dampness of your panties against your heat. The wetness seeps into the fabric, making it stick to the lips of your pussy. 

“Fuck me, you are soaked!” with no qualms about modesty, Negan swipes the tacky panties to the side and gets a feel of your folds himself. 

You stop a moan from escaping, not wanting to be too eager. "Goddamn, you're a sticky little mess, ain't ya? All wet and sloppy, just fucking dripping” he teases your hole, momentarily pressing a finger to it but never dipping inside.

Hoping to gain some control, you go to stand up straight. The thoughts of looking into his eyes as he fingers you is more appealing than your view being the wall of a bathroom stall.

But Negan isn’t as fond of the idea. The arm looped around you quickly makes its way to your back, forcing you to stay bent. You let out a scoff as the side of your face smushes against the wall. 

“Negan, what the fuck?” You whine, blindly throwing one of your arms back at him “If you’re gonna finger me, at least let me enjoy it!”.

“Nuh-uh,” he grabs your arm and presses it against your back, restraining you before he continues his exploration of your pussy “I get to decide how the fuck we do this”.

You quieten down when you feel a finger trace your folds, spreading your wetness around. “You this much of a slut for every guy or am I just lucky?” He asks, chuckling at his own thoughts “Your friends were cheering like this is a usual thing for you”.

Before you can reply, Negan plunges two fingers deep inside your dripping cunt, his thumb grinding against your clit. “I— ah!” You mewl, trying to give a coherent response “N-no, never!”.

Negan picks up his pace, loving how you give in, basically slumping against the wall. “See, doll, I want to believe you. I mean, I don’t know that many sluts that get this fucking wet from just a little grinding… it’s shameful, really” he curls his fingers to hit the perfect spot, making your squirm.

“But in saying that,” Negan continues, his breath hitting against your neck as he leans closer “I don’t know that many modest gals that wear something like this”. 

Deciding you know better than to repeat your mistake and move again, Negan takes his hand off your back and paws at your chest instead. But in true Negan fashion, he needs to up his antics.

Tugging down the low cut neckline of your dress, you hear a ripping noise as he pulls at the fabric and forces it down past your bra.

“Huh… surprised your modest enough to wear a bra” he comments, quickly rectifying the situation. Without warning, Negan roughly shoves the bra cups up, freeing your tits completely. "Fuck, look at these," he growls, appreciating the sight of your breasts spilling out. 

The fingers he has working your hole pause and retreat, much to your disappointment. You take the opportunity to turn around to face him, starting to feeling a crick in your neck from being smushed up by the wall.

“Asshole, you tore my dress“ your voice is laced with frustration, although that may be from how much you want him to stop teasing and fuck you already. 

With an amused scoff, Negan goes to hold up his hands in surrender. His fingers glisten with your juices. “I’m trying to be a gentlemen here, doll” he chuckles as he defends himself.

You fight the urge to cover yourself, knowing that’s what he’s waiting for. He wants to see that shy side, to see you blush and get flustered. 

You glare at him instead “How is this being a gentleman?”.

“Well, I coulda just ripped it clean off, but I left ya some dignity,” Negan smirks, crowding you again. You’re left no choice but to back into the wall, holding your glare as you look up at him.

“And I've fingered ya before fucking ya which is pretty damn noble” he adds, seeing you battle between staying annoyed and wanting to blush. You open your mouth to complain but a loud moan comes out instead as Negan pinches one of your nipples.

He thumbs your hard nipples, chuckling as they perk up even more under his touch. “Damn, always knew you’d have a good pair on ya," he muses “fuckin’ perfect”.

Negan doesn't hesitate, leaning down to engulf one nipple in his mouth. He sucks hard, letting his teeth graze the sensitive bud as he kneads the other breast roughly. Groaning around your nipple, he switches to the other, assaulting it with the same fervent enthusiasm. 

With a grunt, Negan grabs your thighs and hoists you up, pinning you against the wall with his muscular body. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, arms going around his shoulders.

Negan grinds his still clothed cock against your bare pussy, applying just enough pressure to make you whimper. 

The rough denim of his pants provides no comfort, each thrust of his hips pressing his erection directly against your sensitive clit. "You feel that?" He asks against your tit “Want you to beg for it, gotta hear ya saying it”.

You have no hesitation. There is no reluctance to beg for him, not when you’re this close to getting what you thought would always be a wet dream. 

"Please, Negan, I need it!" you beg, your hips bucking against his pants in desperate attempts to get friction. “I’ve wanted you for so long, to fuck me in my bedroom o-or on the dinner table! Fuck, anywhere! I don’t care!”.

That seems to convince him. Reaching down and fumbling with his jeans, Negan has his cock out in record time. He grips the base, stroking it a few times as he lines it up with your soaked pussy. 

The head of his cock presses against your entrance, the tip barely peeking out from between your folds. Negan slowly eases in, allowing you to adjust to his massive size. 

You writhe and moan against him, trying to keep your body relaxed as he enters you. Trying your best to keep eye contact, you let out a string of whimpers as he fills you completely. 

"Damn, I actually fit," he says, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. Negan pulls out carefully, as if testing the waters before plunging back into your needy pussy with vigor.

"Holy fuck, even tighter than I imagined. Built for my dick, aren't you?" he grunts, starting to fuck you hard.

Each brutal thrust of his hips drives his thick cock deeper into your pussy, stretching you wide open. "Fuck, you're so tight it feels like my dick is splitting you in half. Love it. Fucking love it" Negan rambles on and grabs your thighs, spreading them as wide as he can.

"Fuck, Negan... you're so..." you try to speak "ah!”. It’s all too much in the best way possible. That delicious ache of being so thoroughly penetrated, the feeling of absolute fullness with each deep thrust.

"More... fuck me more..." your hips arch up to meet his thrusts, trying to keep up.

Negan angles his hips upwards, hitting that spot inside you over and over as he pounds into you. "Look at me," He growls, "Look at me while I break you in half with my dick. You like that? You like feeling so stuffed?"

“I-I've never been this full before…” you say with teary eyes.

Negan notices your body tensing and shuddering beneath him, your pussy walls starting to flutter wildly around his thick cock. "Holy shit, there it is... Your cunt's squeezin' me like a fuckin' vice. You gonna cum on my dick?".

The pressure is building to an unbearable point, your entire body trembling as your orgasm approaches. Your mind goes blank, unable to answer his question as he hits that perfect spot.

Just as your orgasm hits, Negan feels your pussy clamp down around him like a silken fist. "Holy fuck..." you gasp, back arching as pure pleasure courses through your veins. 

Your entire body quakes, inner muscles milking his cock as you ride out your intense orgasm. You dig your nails into his shoulders, legs trembling uncontrollably.

Negan grunts, fucking you through your intense orgasm with deep, deliberate strokes. He can feel your pussy spasming wildly around his shaft, coating him in your slick arousal. As the last waves shudder through you, he finally pulls out, his cock glistening with in the light.

He lets you stand for a moment but you legs are so wobbly, it’s difficult to support your weight after that intense orgasm.

Before you can even catch your breath, Negan grabs your shoulder roughly and forces you onto your knees. Your body complies in an instant, unable to fight against such force.

Your knees ache as they hit the bathroom floor but that’s the least of your concerns. You look up at him in wide-eyed shock, lips parted as you anticipate him coming all over your face.

"Fuckin' hell, such a pretty face..." He strokes his throbbing cock with his fist, ready to explode.

But instead of aiming for your face, Negan aims his cock at your chest, unleashing a thick, hot load of cum all over your tits. He groans loudly as he paints your breasts with his seed, the warm liquid dripping down between your cleavage and seeping into the fabric of your dress.  

“Next time you’re either swallowing it or you’re getting a facial courtesy of yours truly” he informs you, although the only piece of information you truly savor from that is ‘next time’.

Doing the gentlemanly thing, he grabs some tissue from the toilet paper dispenser and hands it to you. You dab at your chest, knowing the dress is a lost cause and will probably have to be thrown out later. 

“Help me up?” You ask, somewhat shyly once you’re done.

Taking your arm in a much more gentle grip than before, Negan helps you up, subtly looking over your chest to make sure you’ve wiped off all of him. “You feeling alright?” he asks lowly, as if remembering the public place you’re both in. 

You blink, giving yourself a moment to calm, your body still humming with the aftermath. “That was…” you pause, collecting your thoughts, “...wow.”

A soft chuckle rumbles from his chest, and he slips his leather jacket off the stall door. “Well, that’s a better response than I expected,” he says with a smirk, draping the jacket around your shoulders and gently guiding your arms into the sleeves. Without a word about how the jacket nearly swallows you whole, he zips it up, pulling it snug to cover your chest. 

This is a completely different side to the Negan you’ve seen tonight. This is the Negan that gives you a small, reassuring smile after your parents throw some off handed insult your way. 

The two of you stand close, your breaths mingling. Slowly, the space between your faces narrows, as if drawn by some unspoken pull. You gently tilt your head, just enough to bring your lips into alignment with his. 

The kiss is a tender brush. Featherlight and hesitant. It’s the kind of kiss you’d expect before going at it like a bunch of animals… not afterwards.

The kiss lingers, still tasting of warmth and something unspoken. Pulling back just enough to rest your forehead against his, you can feel the soft touch of his lips still tingling on yours. You mutter against his lips, almost sheepishly “Can you drop me home?”.

His lips curl into a quiet smile, a slight glint in his eyes as he nods. “Considering I didn’t get to finish my first glass of whiskey, yeah I should be good,” Negan gives you a playful look.

Unable to help yourself, you give him a small smile. It’s not as seductive or teasing as the ones you have given him previously. In all honestly, it feels like Negan has fucked the seductiveness out of you– if that’s even possible.  

“... So this wasn’t some drunken mistake?” you ask coyly. 

Negan wraps an arm around your shoulders as he unlocks the stall door and carefully guides you out. ”Wear a dress like that the next time I’m at your parents for dinner and you’ll find out” he replies with a smirk. 

Besides his tousled hair, Negan still looks fine. He’s not dishevelled or out of breath or having trouble walking… all things you attribute to yourself.

Negan notices your state too, keeping his arm around you as you subtly leave the bathrooms and head for the exit. If it’s even possible, Negan pulls you closer, guiding you out like a drunk that’s had one too many. His presence is possessive in the gentlest of ways.

You give your friends a knowing look as you both leave, one that says you’ll explain everything later.

The sound of drunken chattering and laughter fades as you step out into the night, the streetlights casting a soft glow on the parking lot. 

When you reach the car, he opens the door for you with a small smirk, his eyes never leaving yours as you slide into the seat.  A few moments later, Negan slides into the driver's seat and the engine rumbles to life. 

The car doesn’t even get out of the parking lot before Negan’s hand finds yours. The ride home is quiet. He doesn’t say much, and neither do you, but the silence between you feels relaxed.

Every now and then, his thumb gently brushes across the back of your hand like a quiet reassurance. He doesn’t mention the contact, simply letting it linger. 

 The soft, rhythmic motion of the car becomes like a lullaby and with every mile, the weight of the night lifts just a little more. Every so often, you glance over at him, his face relaxed. When your eyes meet, he offers a smile and you sleepily return it.

Negan doesn’t pull up directly outside your house. Strategically stopping his car a little down the street, he sighs.

“Hate to say it but I’ll need that jacket back,” he gives you a once over, as if to memorize what his leather jacket looks like on you.

Fiddling with the zipper, you mumble “So I’m supposed to walk in there with a ripped up dress?”.

He laughs at that, shaking his head before reaching into the backseat. “Here, I know it’s dirty but it’s the best I can offer,” Negan hands you a sweatshirt. 

The sweatshirt is faded, its fabric softened from years of use. The sleeves are slightly frayed at the cuffs and a few small holes hint at its age. On the front, several dark oil stains mark where hands have wiped off grease, probably from Negan when working on his motorbike. 

But most importantly, it smells like him.

As you take off his jacket and put on the sweatshirt instead, Negan gives you some privacy and looks away. “Are you coming in too?” You ask, gently placing his jacket on his lap once you’ve changed.

Taking that as his signal to look, Negan gives you a sympathetic smile. “Not tonight, darlin,” he replies “think Lucille would chop my nuts off with your mom’s fancy silver if I showed my face”.

“You two are fighting that bad?”.

Negan shrugs “Same old, same old”.

You try not to fidget with the frayed sleeves of his sweatshirt, not wanting to pick at it right in front of him. 

“And… this?” You focus your attention at simply inspecting the sleeves instead of picking at them “I mean, I know you said it wasn’t a drunken mistake but still… I get it if you wanna pretend like it never happened”.

As much as you wanted quick reassurance, you’re met with silence. 

Negan leans back in his seat, taking his eyes away from yours and looking at the street. Up ahead, he can see the porch light on to your parents house. Although, he doubts Lucille will be leaving anytime soon. She’ll probably stay late, try to wait it out until Negan has drank himself silly and fallen asleep.

“Tonight shouldn’t have happened,” he says with little emotion “It ain’t right. I know it. You know it. Hell, anyone in a ten mile radius would call me all sorts of names if they knew about it…  fucking your friend’s daughter is a whole mess”.

You stay quiet, unsure whether you should just get out now.

“But shit, if you wanted to suck my dick right now, I wouldn’t say no,” he chuckles “it’s a fucked up thing to say but I wouldn’t mind something like this happening again”.

That puts a smile back on your face. Getting ready to leave, you say “Maybe if you come to dinner next time, I will suck your dick”.

Negan watches you with narrowed eyes. Of course you’d be able to make his dick twitch again, making him feel like a teenager that could get it up over and over again. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he warns as you get out.

“Good,” you hop out of the car, giving him one last flirtatious smirk before going “I hope you do”.

Closing the door, you strut along the pavement, your heels clicking as you go to your house. Walking has never seemed so hard, not only because of your shoe choice but from the aching in your gut and your legs wobbling more than you’d like to admit. 

Still, you try to do your best to walk straight, knowing Negan is watching. 

When you get to the front door, you give Negan one last glance before disappearing inside. He wait a few moments before starting up his car and leaving. 

The first thing you hear is a chorus of polite laughter from the dining room. Great, looks like they’re still in the midst of dinner. Before you have a chance to debate if you could get upstairs without them hearing, you hear your father call out your name.

“Is that you?” He calls out.

Reluctantly, you walk in, lingering by the doorway. Your parents to turn in their dining chairs to face you. Whereas Lucille has you right in her line of view. She offers you a gracious smile as you enter.

“I thought you were staying at Lydia’s tonight,” you mom says, eyeing your sweatshirt and what appears to be a skirt. Thankfully she doesn’t comment on how short it is.

“Eh, Lydia talked things out with her boyfriend so they’re back together again,” you lie casually “you know how they are; fight, break up and make up”.

Lucille casts her gaze down slightly, as if your words hit a little too close to home for her. You shift uncomfortably. 

“There’s some leftovers in the kitchen if you’re hungry” your mom says, blissfully unaware.

“I’m ok,” you give her a smile “I think I might just shower and head to bed early”.

“Alright,” she already waves you off, turning back in her seat “if you’re sure”.

You don’t linger, giving them a polite nod before leaving. It’s only when you turn to leave does Lucille look at you again. 

She’s never believed in coincidences. And she’s never believed you to be into repairing cars. She knows the faint stains on your sweatshirt, mainly because she’s the one who spent hours trying to scrub them out… only for Negan to reward her with new stains on the damn thing. 

Nodding along with whatever it is your father is saying, Lucille’s mind strays further and further from the dinner and to Negan instead. 

Something’s happened. What exactly, she’s not sure. But you’re involved and so is her damned husband.

—————

A/N: thought I’d put in a quick note just to say thanks for reading and apologies for disappearing all month! My family almost got scammed out of 11k (it was insane) but!! More importantly!! I got seriously bad writers block so apologies if this fic is a little choppy, I’m still getting back into my stride!!

[biblicallyaccuratemeat]

Velveteen

MDNI!!!

A/N: My bby girl @ethanhoewke asked me to write this, so of course I had to. Beta read by @teaflavoredwitch Bucky Barnes x female reader, online dating, first date, smut!!!, p in v sex, fingering, boob/nipple worship, hickeys and love bites, marking, praise kink, unprotected sex, gentle dom Bucky, pet names, dirty talk, begging, Bucky's metal arm

Word Count: 5.6k

“You have a date tonight. 7 o’clock, don’t be late,” Sam comments off handedly, brushing past Bucky to dig through his fridge, “Oh, and don’t stand up the poor girl either.” Sam casts him a knowing look over his shoulder.

Bucky freezes, staring at his friend incredulously, “Excuse me?” He scoffs, immediately on the defense.

It’s that fucking dating app, he just knows it. Sam pestered him incessantly for months, goading him to set up a profile. Claiming that he needed to “get with the times”. Bucky runs his organic hand over his face tiredly, he feels a migraine coming on. Sam means well, he always does, but his execution is lacking to say the least. Bucky stomps over to his liquor cabinet, making a beeline for his whiskey.

“Oh no you don’t,” Sam huffs, snatching the bottle from his hand. Bucky casts a scowl that could curdle milk. Sam only laughs, immune to the former Winter Soldier’s glowering, “You need to be sober and your usual…charming self for this date.” Sam pats his back, though it feels more patronizing than comforting.

“You set up a profile for me on that goddamn app, didn’t you?” Bucky accuses, nudging Sam away.

“What are you gonna wear?” Sam dances around the question, smiling in a way that’s meant to look innocent but Bucky clocks him immediately. “You should dress up, look nice. Don’t wear those ratty old jeans you love so much. What’d you used to wear back in the day? I bet you were killin’ all the ladies in your uniform, huh?” Sam grins mischievously, waggling his eyebrows.

Bucky finds himself reminiscing for a moment, Sam’s comment taking him back to his youth. Dating was simpler back then, really everything was simpler. His life especially. Women fell over themselves to catch his eye, dressing up to the nines in dress greens, dancing the night away… Fuck he felt old. He wonders if Sam put his real age on his profile, or something safe like thirty-three.

Despite the overwhelming urge to bail, stand up the date, Bucky hesitates. Even all these years later, the good manners and etiquette his mother instilled in him reared its head. Always pull out the chair for a young lady, hold open doors, be punctual… He’d go to the fucking date, but he wasn’t going to be pleased about it. He’d stay the required amount of time, pay for the meal, kiss her cheek, and leave.

Easy.

-

In retrospect, it should have been easy. But nothing really is, at least not anymore for Bucky.

He arrived at the restaurant early, found a table. His anxiety mounting with each passing second, he must have checked his watch at least twenty times. Dressed in slacks- god when was the last time he wore slacks? He feels ridiculous, he’s sure he looks it too. A quarter past seven, and whoever is supposed to come hasn’t. Fuck, did he get stood up? Probably. Bucky’s sure Sam put the worst pictures of him possible on his profile, he probably thought it was the height of comedy too.

“Are you James?” A soft, shy voice snaps Bucky out of his brooding.

His head whips up, thrown off kilter by the timid question. He freezes, grumpy expression morphing into one of surprise. You’re gorgeous, exactly his type. Fuck, maybe Sam was onto something here…

He blinks, clearing his throat awkwardly. He shoots up out of his seat, bumping into the table and sending silverware clattering to the floor, “Shit!” He crouches down, quickly gathering up the discarded fork and knife. He smacks his head on the corner of the table on his way back up, hissing in pain. Great. So far this is the date from his nightmares. 

You giggle softly, immediately enamored by this clumsy, bumbling dork. You cover your smile with your hand, eyes crinkling with mirth. Bucky swears his face is on fire, a nervous chuckle bubbling up in his throat, “Yeah, that’s me. Call me Bucky, though, everyone does.”

Bucky’s anxiety, his wariness melts easily like a popsicle in the summer sun. Your presence, your demeanor, it disarms and renders him pliant in a way that should concern him. Or at the very least, piss him off. But it doesn’t, not in the fucking slightest. He finds himself opening up to you, sharing stories and memories that he wouldn’t even dare to revisit if he was shit faced. He doesn’t even order a drink, sticking to water. The hours wear on, Bucky staying far longer than he originally planned, but he can’t help himself.

-

This may be the best date of Bucky’s entire miserable existence. He’d have to send Sam a fucking fruit basket or something in the morning. Damn if he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right though. 

He finds himself walking you to your front door, lingering on the porch. Your smile, all sunshine and sweetness, disarms him completely. He’s helpless to the onslaught of emotions your mere presence brings about. Emotions he believed were long gone from his psyche. A warmth in his chest, a flutter in his heart, knots in the pit of his stomach.

“Do you want to come inside for a drink?” You offer, tentative and hopeful.

Bucky gazed into those doe eyes, seeing the timid smile and the shy invitation reflected back at him. He felt a stirring in his chest, a warmth that had little to do with the drink you offered. You, with your soft curves and gentle demeanor, had somehow penetrated the walls he’d so carefully constructed around his battered heart. In one evening, you lowered all his defenses. He was mystified.

But even as a part of him yearned to take you up on that offer, to cross the threshold and lose himself in your sweet embrace, Bucky hesitated. He knew he had to tread carefully, to savor this newfound connection. He didn’t want to rush you, frighten you away with the intensity of his long-dormant desires.

Bucky reached out, gently brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingertips grazing the soft skin of your cheek ever so lightly. He leaned in closer, until mere inches separated you, inhaling the intoxicating scent of you that he hoped would cling to his skin for days after this. When he spoke, his voice was a low, intimate murmur, “I’d love nothing more than to come inside, to steal a few more moments with you,” he began, his sea colored eyes darkened with a mixture of barely restrained hunger and tender affection, “But I don’t want to impose, sweetheart. Not tonight.”

Bucky’s nose brushed against the apple of your cheek, a teasing whisper of contact, as he inhaled once more, “Besides,” he added with a roguish grin, straightening up reluctantly, “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t let a lady retire for the evening?”

He brought your small hand up to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours, “Dream of me?” He murmurs against your skin. With that, Bucky steps back, releasing your hand. He’s ready to turn on his heel, go back to his empty apartment and beat off till his dick is raw. But then, you’re speaking again, stopping him in his tracks.

“Let me rephrase that,” You assert delicately, “Come inside and have a drink with me. I’m not some virtuous debutante. You can come inside, and you should.”

The dulcet timbre of your voice, the clear invitation laden in your words, sends a jolt straight to Bucky’s core. The gentleman in him reeled back, shocked by your boldness. But the man, the one who had seen and done things no decent person should, the one who had been starved of intimate connection for so long, surged forward, an aching hunger awakening inside him.

Bucky’s eyes shone with a sudden intensity, a barely curbed appetite burning in their blue depths. He took another step closer to you, then another, until he stood mere inches from where you lingered in the doorway. His heated gaze raked over your form, drinking in every single detail, committing them to memory, “As you wish,” he all but sighs out, eyes fluttering shut briefly, “I should warn you though, once I get you inside… I won’t be able to keep my hands off you. You’re awakening things in me that I’ve tried my damndest to suppress.”

He followed you in, allowing you to lead him to the heart of your dwelling. As the door clicked shut, Bucky found himself acutely aware of every breath you took, every soft sway of your hips, every silken whisper of fabric against flesh. Turning to face you, Bucky reached out, cupping your face in his remaining hand, his calloused palm a stark contrast to the downy softness of your skin. His thumb brushed over the swell of your lower lip, tracing the delicate curve.

“So, what do you want to drink?” You ask, already breathless and he hasn’t so much as kissed you yet. With an impish smirk, you tug him in the direction of the couch. The anticipation lingers in the air, heady and electric. Like the way everything feels static, hair standing up before lightning strikes. It feels as though you have a wasp’s nest in your belly, far more spirited and dangerous than butterflies.

The impish smile, the way your fingers curled into his as you guided him towards the couch, sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through Bucky’s veins. He allowed you to lead him, a willing captive to your whims, as you settled onto the plush cushions. The rational part of him knew he should slow down, rein in the tempest of lust that threatened to consume you both. But, rationality was never his strong suit and he reveled in the knowledge that he had ignited a twin hunger in you.

“Whiskey,” Bucky replied, his gaze locked onto the gentle sway of your hips as you moved to pour his drink, “Neat, please.” His voice a low, anticipatory murmur, the words dripping with double entendre, “But I hope that’s not the only thing you’ll be putting in my mouth tonight.”

He leaned back against the couch, the picture of casual ease, even as his eyes greedily drank in every delectable inch of you. As you handed him the glass of amber liquid, Bucky’s fingers brushed against yours, a fleeting touch that sent sparks skittering up his arm. He brought the glass to his nose, inhaling deeply, allowing the smoky aroma to mingle with the sweet, heady scent of your perfume.

He takes a long sip, letting the liquid burn his mouth. He holds it there for a moment, savoring the oaky flavor. He swallows slow and unhurried, feeling the heat travel down his throat to join the fire in his stomach. Setting the glass aside, Bucky leaned in closer, his hand finding your knee, his vibranium fingertips, tracing idle patterns on the supple skin peeking out from under your dress. His eyes never left yours, his gaze a tangible caress that set your soul alight. 

A becoming blush darkens your cheeks, you huff softly, equal parts aroused and disarmed, “You don’t mince words, do you?” 

Bucky chuckled softly at your flustered response, the sound a deep, rich rumble that seemed to resonate through his chest. He could feel the subtle tremble of your thigh beneath metal, “Blunt honesty has always been a virtue of mine,” He murmurs, invading the final remnants of your personal space, “You’ll probably find I’m too direct, too forward, too hungry for things I want.” His hand slid a fraction higher up your thigh, the rough smooth metal pads of his fingers causing an eruption of goosebumps in their wake, “But I only say the things I mean, the things I feel…the things I crave.”

Letting out a shaky exhale, you take a long sip from your glass for courage, “That’s okay, I think I like that about you. It’s refreshing.”

The way you trembled, how your breath hitched as you sipped your drink, the blush still painting your cheeks a pretty shade of pink… Bucky was a goner, he knew that much. Your honesty in return, your admission of liking the unfiltered nature of his advances, sent blood rushing downwards. Unable to resist the urge to touch you more, Bucky slid his vibranium hand fully beneath the hem of your dress, kneading the supple fat of your thigh. His other arm snaked around your waist, gently tugging you closer until you were practically on his lap, your bodies aligned in tantalizing proximity.

“I’m glad you do,” He hums, his voice seeming to stroke over your nerves like a physical touch, “Because I have a feeling it’s one of many things you’ll appreciate about me, in due time.”

His gaze flicked down to your lips, to the neat sip you’d taken of your drink, before dragging back up to meet the widening pool of your eyes. A wicked, sinful grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, “Why don’t you finish your drink, sweetheart?”

You throw back the glass obediently, all but chugging down the liquid. You don’t notice the burn, the swirling inferno of lust outshining the sting. 

Bucky’s grin widened as he watched you toss back the remains of your drink, a rush of satisfaction soaring through him at your clear enthusiasm. The way you looked at him then, with those wide, expectant eyes and parted, glistening lips… The remaining whiskey in Bucky’s glass is already long forgotten. His vibranium hand slid from your thigh to your hip, gripping the curve possessively as he surged forward to close the scant distance between you. Your lips met in a crash of heat and desperation, your gasp lost against the sudden, intense pressure as Bucky’s mouth slanted over yours.

He kissed you with a hunger bordering on ferocity, as though he meant to devour you, to make you a part of himself. His tongue delved past your parted lips, stroking over the sharpness of your teeth and tangling with yours in a sensual dance. His organic hand fisted in your silken hair, gripping the locks and tugging your head back to deepen the angle, while the vibranium one wrapped around your waist tightened, crushing you against the hard, muscular length of his body.

Bucky groaned into your mouth, an almost whiny sound torn from the depths of his desire, as he felt you melt against him. Your fingers latched into his shirt, balling the fabric in your fists as you clung to him, to the solid, unyielding strength of his frame. He could feel every lush curve, every gentle swell and dip of your body, could feel the way your heart raced beneath your sternum and your breath grew short and quick.

When Bucky finally broke the kiss, it was only to trail his lips down the column of your throat, to lave your racing pulse with the flat of his tongue. He nipped at the delicate tendon, teeth grazing your flesh and his lips soothing the sting with a lascivious murmur, “Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined.”

A soft, keening moan is torn from your throat, lost to the onslaught of the sensations overwhelming you. You tilt your head back, eagerly offering up your throat to him, a gazelle submitting to the ravenous lion.

Bucky growled against your neck, a sound of pure, unbridled lust, as he felt your body shudder and your breathy moan reverberate through you. The salty sweet taste of your skin, the hot slide of your breath against his cheek, it was all driving him to a fever pitch, urged on by the desperate, wanton sounds spilling from your kiss-swollen lips. His hands slid down your back, fingers splaying across the small dip at the base of your spine, holding you flush against him as he explored your throat with lips and teeth and tongue. He could feel the heat of you, the way your body seemed to burn against his touch, and he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had explored every inch of your lush form. Bucky’s hands slid lower, cupping the fat of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh between his palms. He ground his hips against yours, letting you feel the hard, insistent press of his cock, the way it strained against the barrier of his jeans. His mouth returned to yours, claiming your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue joining yours once more, devouring you with single-minded intensity. 

You gasped sharply into the fierce, claiming kiss, your body arching upward instinctively to grind your hips in answer to Bucky’s needy friction. Lost in a haze of sensation, you wound your arms around his neck, nails digging into his shoulders as you held on for dear life. Or perhaps, for the sheer ecstasy of it all.

Bucky shuddered as your nails dug into his shoulders, he could feel your hips rocking against his, seeking friction, aching to be filled, and it took every ounce of his rapidly waning control not to simply tear your clothes from your body and fuck you into the couch.

Instead, with herculean effort, Bucky swept an arm under your knees, lifting you easily as he rose from the couch. He carried you swiftly down the hall, his lips never leaving your throat, until he found your bedroom. Pushing open the door, he carried you inside, kicking it shut behind him. Bucky laid you down on the bed with a suddenness that stole your breath, his hard body blanketing yours as he claimed your lips once more. As he kissed you, his hands slid beneath your dress, shucking it up to your sternum, bunching the fabric as his fingers sought the bare skin underneath. He stroked over the soft swell of your tits, the pebbled crests of your nipples straining through the bralette you wore. Breaking the kiss with a shaky breath, Bucky pulled back just enough to yank your dress over your head. In a flash of impatient movement, he dispatched your bra, tossing it carelessly across the room to land in a scrap of lace and satin. His gaze drank in the sight of your bare torso, taking in the ripe curves of your breasts, the flushed peaks of your nipples, and he swallowed hard.

“Fuck, babydoll,” He breathed, awe and reverence, an all-consuming desire threading his rough voice, “You look good enough to eat.”

Bucky didn’t delay, attacking your newly exposed tits, his hands cupped the soft mounds, kneading and squeezing the pliant flesh as he dragged the flat of his tongue over the taught peak of your nipple. A quiet gasp escaped your lips at the sudden onslaught of sensation, your fingers fisting in his cropped hair, holding him to the task. 

Pleasure spiked through you as Bucky’s teeth closed around your nipple, worrying the sensitive bud before suckling hard at the tender flesh. A moan, raw and needy, tore from your throat as he lavished attention on your breasts, vibranium hand pinching and rolling the neglected peak as his tongue swirled and lapped. Bucky took his time, worshipping your breasts until you writhed beneath him, your body burning and aching for more. The wet, almost pornographic sounds of Bucky’s mouth on your skin fill the room, mingling with your broken moans and the creaking of the bed frame beneath your writhing form. He marked your flesh with a fervor that was almost feral, determined to leave his claim stamped into every inch of your willing skin. Bucky’s hands slid lower, fumbling down the front of your soaked panties. The cotton clings to your cunt, slick and sticky. With a low groan of approval, his finger stroked over the puffy folds. You arch into his touch, craving more, desperate for the relief that only he could award you.

Bucky wastes no time, pushing your panties down your thighs with an urgency. The moment your cunt was bared to him, he plunged two vibranium fingers deep inside your leaking hole, groaning against your breast as your walls clenched around the sudden intrusion. He pumped his fingers in and out of your tight heat, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. At the same time, his mouth continued its assault on your tits, sucking dark marks into the supple flesh as he suckled at your nipples. Bucky could feel your slick walls fluttering and clenching around his plunging fingers as he fingered your pussy with a firm, purposeful rhythm. The wet squelching of his digits pumping in and out of you joined the symphony of your needy noises and slurping of Bucky’s mouth.

His thumb circled your sensitive clit with relentless pressure, the coolness of the vibranium only heightening your pleasure. Bucky could feel your body tensing, your hips rocking eagerly into his hand as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. Determined to make you come at least once before shoving his dick in you, he doubled his efforts, plunging deeper, rubbing harder, suckling with greater intensity, until he felt your body shake and seize beneath him.

“Oh, fuck,” You cry out, your voice pitching high and needy as your body sings beneath his touch. Electric, burning pleasure crackled through every nerve ending, your pussy clamping down and throbbing around Bucky’s vibranium fingers as wave after wave of your orgasm drowns you. You thrash and writhe, your back arching sharply off the bed as the stickiness of your orgasm gushes around his invading fingers. Broken, ecstatic moans spilled from your lips, your fingers clawing at his hair, holding him to your heaving chest as you ride out the intense, mind-numbing pleasure.

Through the haziness of your orgasm, you can feel Bucky continue to worship your breasts, licking over the hardened peaks of your nipples, prolonging the bliss radiating through your body. You mewl and quiver, your hips grinding desperately against his hand. As the aftershocks begin to subside, you relax back onto the mattress, panting and trembling. You look up at Bucky with soupy, fucked-out eyes, a weak, satisfied smile on your spit-glossy lips. The sight of you splayed out beneath him, your body trembling weakly in the shadow of your climax, your tits heaving as you gasped for breath… it made Bucky’s cock throb and swell impossibly harder in his pants. Slowly, reluctantly, Bucky withdrew his fingers from your still-fluttering cunt, bringing them to his mouth to suck your slick from his digits. His tongue swirled around each one, laving up every last drop of your wetness, his eyes never leaving yours as he savored your flavor with a low, approving groan.

As he finished cleaning your spend from his fingers, Bucky leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. He let you taste yourself on his tongue, the salty-sweet essence of your orgasm mingling with the smoky heat of the whiskey he’d consumed. At the same time, his hands traveled down your body, coasting over the dip of your waist and the flare of your hips, to grip the globes of your ass once more. He squeezed the plush fat, kneading it as he ground his hips against yours, letting you feel the thick, rigid outline of his arousal, still hidden in his slacks.

Breaking the kiss, Bucky nuzzled between the valley of your breasts, his lips brushing against the sensitive, marked skin as he murmured, “You look so pretty coming for me, babydoll. The fucking sounds, the faces you make… Fuck, I can’t wait to feel this tight cunt wrapped around my cock.”

Bucky’s filthy praise sent a fresh surge of liquid heat rushing through your core, a needy whimper escaping your lips as you arched wantonly into his touch. Your fingers fumble with his belt, tugging at the buckle with clumsy desperation. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin, could smell the spicy, warm scent of him mingled with the barest trace of whiskey on his breath. It made you dizzy, aching with a desperate need to feel him stretching you open.

Bucky caught your wrist gently as your fingers reached for his belt, halting your desperate attempts to divest him of his clothes. He gazed down at you with a wicked glimmer in his eyes, a lazy, sensual grin curving his lips as he drank in the sight of your flushed face, your kiss-swollen lips parted around a needy whimper, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Leaning in closer, Bucky brushed his lips against yours in a fleeting, teasing caress before murmuring in a low, rough rasp, “Patience, babydoll. As much as I want nothing more than to bury myself in your perfect little cunt, I’m not done playing with you yet.”

One hand slid up your flank, cupping the underside of your breast, his calloused palm scraping deliciously against it. His thumb lightly brushed over your nipple, teasing the abused peak, as his vibranium hand traced the curve of your waist before settling on your hip, squeezing the bone appreciatively. “You’re going to beg for my cock, baby. I want to hear that pretty mouth sobbing my name as I split you open on my dick. I’m gonna fuck you into this mattress so good, you aren’t gonna be able to walk right.”

Bucky rolled his hips, once more grinding the hard heat of his erection against your slick, aching pussy. He groaned, a low, guttural sound that sent vibrations through your flesh. “Tell me, baby,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, “Is this what you want? Do you want me to fuck this greedy little pussy until you’re gushing for me like a broken faucet?” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust of his hips, the thick ridge of his cock grinding hard against your sensitive, swollen flesh.

You whimper softly, looking up at Bucky with hazy, hooded eyes shimmering with desperation. Your cheeks flush a pretty shade that matches the rosy hue of your hardened nipples as they pebble in the cool air of your bedroom. You lick your lips, tasting the lingering flavor of his kisses mixed with the salt of your own sweat. “Please, Bucky…” You breathed, your sweet, whiny voice pitched high with arousal, “I’m aching, I need you to fuck me please. I’ll be such a good girl for you. Please?” You flutter your lashes, putting on a sweet, guileless expression, “I’ll do anything, be anything you want me to be. Please just make the ache go away.”

The desperation in your voice, the way you begged so sweetly for his cock, the needy little whimpers spilling from your lips as you rolled your hips against his in wanton invitation… it shredded the last vestiges of Bucky’s control. With a low, feral growl, he surged forward, capturing your mouth in a brutal, sloppy kiss as his hands made quick work of his belt and fly. In a flash, he shed his pants and boxers, freeing his thick, aching cock. It bobbed heavily against his stomach, the girthy shaft pulsing with need, the broad head flushed an angry, almost painful red. Pearly beads of precum leaked from the slit, dripping down the underside of his length, making it glisten erotically in the low light.

Breaking the kiss with a sharp nip to your lower lip, Bucky gripped your thighs, pushing them up and back until your knees were bent and your calves rested on his broad shoulders. The new position left you completely open to him, your dripping, plump cunt exposed and ready for the taking. Gripping the base of his cock, Bucky rubbed the swollen head through your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal. He groaned at the feel of your stickiness leaking over his sensitive flesh, at the way your body yielded so sweetly to his touch. He notched the broad crown of his dick at the entrance to your core, the thick head stretching you open around him.

“Fuck, babydoll,” Bucky grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of not slamming forward and burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust, “I’m going to fill this greedy cunt so fucking full. Gonna fuck you real good, baby, make that ache go away.”

Bucky’s eyes lock on yours, holding your gaze captive. You watch with rapt attention as his pupils dilate, a deep black dwarfing the cool blue his irises, until there’s but a small sliver of color left. Your hands fly up, gripping the fat and muscle of his biceps, nails digging crescent shaped marks into his flesh. Slowly, tortuously Bucky sinks inch by burning inch into your cunt. The air is punched from your lungs, the molten heat of him splitting you in half pushes you to the brink of sanity. Bucky’s muscles flexed beneath your fingers as he sank into your tight, soaked heat with an almost sadistic slowness. Each inch of his thick, pulsing cock stretching you wider, filling you more completely, drew a ragged gasp from your lips. Your inner walls clenched and fluttered around his invading length, trying desperately to adjust to the delicious intrusion. He didn’t stop until he was fully seated inside you, his heavy balls nestling against the curve of your ass. With a low, ragged groan he remained still, allowing you to feel every throbbing inch of him, letting you savor the way he stretched you so exquisitely. Panting harshly, Bucky leaned down to capture your mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue licked into your mouth, tasting you, consuming you, as hips began to move in a slow, relentless rhythm. He withdrew until just the tip remained inside before surging forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

He set a steady, pounding pace, your old bed frame creaking and shaking with the force of his thrusts. Each drive of his hips rocked you upward, the harsh slap of skin against skin echoing through your bedroom as he fucked into you with ruthless, single-minded intensity.

“Harder, please, fuck me harder,” You whine, your voice pitching high and desperate as you screw your eyes shut and surrender yourself completely to the overwhelming sensations consuming you. Your nails dig harder into the well-honed muscles of Bucky’s biceps, clinging to him like a lifeline as you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge of oblivion once more.

Each vicious, pounding thrust of his hips drives the air from your lungs, the breathlessness of your panting merging with the slap of his hips into your thighs and the bed frame groaning beneath you. You can feel every throbbing each, every turgid vein, filling you so impossibly full that you swear you can feel him in your throat. You’re drowning in the sheer, mindless bliss of it all, every thought, every shred of coherence stripped away until there’s nothing left but the raw, visceral need to come undone around him. “Harder,” you beg, your voice ragged and desperate, your body yielding utterly to his punishing, driving power.

Bucky snarled in response to your desperate plea, his hips surging forward with renewed vigor. He gripped your thighs hard enough to leave bruises, pulling you onto his plundering cock as he slammed into you with brutal force. “Fuck, baby, you feel so goddamned good,” Bucky growled, his voice raw and ragged with pleasure. He could feel your velvety walls clenching around his plunging length, your body welcoming each vicious thrust as if it were made for the sole purpose of milking his dick. Angling his hips, Bucky aimed for the wettest depths of your cunt, wrenching raw, ecstatic cries from your throat. He pounded into it with laser focus, grunting from the effort of his thrusts, his muscles flexing and bunching beneath your grasping fingers.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Take it. Take every fucking inch,” he commanded, his gaze burning into yours with fierce, possessive intensity, “Let me hear that sweet voice as I fuck this sloppy little pussy.”

Bucky could feel his release building, coiling tight in his gut as his thrusts grew more erratic, more desperate. He was close, so fucking close, but he wouldn’t let himself come until he’d fucked every last ounce of pleasure from your body. “Gonna fill you up, baby girl,” He promised roughly, “I’m going to pump you so fucking full, gonna be leaking out of this pretty hole for days. You want that, sweetheart?”

“Fuck,” You sigh out, lost to the pleasure, “Please, give me your cum, I’ve been a good girl. Give it to me, Bucky.”

With a harsh groan, Bucky slammed into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt inside your spasming heat. Your cunt flutters and throbs, joining him in the throes of a toe curling orgasm. He captures your mouth in a brutal, devouring kiss, swallowing your needy whines as his cock jerked and pulsed, spurting thick ropes of pearlescent seed deep into your clutching core. Bucky’s body shuddered and quaked above you, his hips rocking shallowly as he rode out the waves of his intense release. His cock throbbed, painting your insides white with his essence, marking you irrevocably as his. He moaned long and low into your mouth, as the last gushes of his orgasm ebbed away. Bucky broke the kiss, his breathing ragged and harsh.He rested his forehead against yours, his blue eyes boring intensely into yours as he ground the base of his shaft against your sensitive sex. His spent cock was still nestled deep inside you, plugging you up. Bucky’s hand crept between your bodies, calloused fingers finding your sensitive, aching clit. He circled the swollen nub with a surprising gentleness, coaxing lazy sparks of pleasure from your overstimulated flesh, “Such a good girl,” he whispered, grinning lazily, “You took that so well, sweetheart. I’m gonna take you out for our second date tomorrow morning, that okay with you?”

You huff softly, rolling your eyes playfully. As if that offer would be anything less than okay.

[plumeria1]

A moment of peace

Masterlist

Note : I wrote this all at once and couldn't wait to publish it.

Pairing : Vi x Fem Reader

Warning : None

Content : Fluff

Summary : A soft moment after a long day

The day had seemed endless for Vi, and all she wanted was to come home and snuggle in your arms while watching a movie.

She had been disappointed not to find you when she got home, but she took advantage of your absence to take a nice shower and relax.

She was so tired that after drying herself, she didn’t bother to change and just collapsed like a sack of potatoes onto your bed, eventually falling asleep.

Upon your return, after spending the day with a friend, you were eager to see your girlfriend again. You were greeted by the silence of the apartment, but you guessed that Vi was already home since her shoes were near the door.

Upon opening the bedroom door, you understood why there was no noise. Vi was lying on her stomach, sprawled on the blankets, deeply asleep.

You smiled, realizing she must have had a long day. Seeing her like this made your heart melt; she looked so peaceful when she slept, and you found her adorable.

Seeing her in that position softened you; she looked so vulnerable. It was rare to see her in that state, but you knew you had to wake her up because otherwise, she wouldn’t sleep through the night, and the next day would be worse.

You climbed onto the bed and settled yourself astride Vi’s hips, without putting your weight on her to avoid hurting her, and ran your hands along her bare back.

She was pulled from her sleep by your caresses, as soft as feathers, then let out a small moan as she lifted her head.

-Shh, it’s just me.

There was curiosity, but mostly fatigue in her voice when she asked you what you were doing. You took the opportunity to lean toward her and kiss her gently; she felt your breasts press lightly against her back, which made her smile.

-You look like you’ve had a bad day, so I’m helping you relax.

Vi tried to turn around, but you prevented her by gently pressing your hands on her shoulders. Resigned, she let herself go to your caresses, and after a few minutes, your hands left her back, only to be replaced by the tips of your fingers tracing the tattoo that covered her back.

-It tickles.

You could hear the smile in her voice, but it didn’t make you stop.

This tattoo had always fascinated you. You’d never really taken the time to examine it in detail, but you couldn’t let this opportunity pass by. Vi had told you that she got it in prison, but she had never elaborated on the subject, and you hadn’t sought to know more.

When you finally withdrew your hands, you let out a cry of surprise when you found yourself with your back against the blanket, then burst out laughing. Vi had taken you by surprise by switching places with incredible ease.

She calmed your laughter by kissing you tenderly. You placed your hands behind her neck to deepen the kiss, but she decided to rest her head on your shoulder.

-I missed you.

-Did your day go badly?

-No, it was just long.

You stroked her hair while she ran her fingers along your arm. Vi didn’t often show herself like this; you were one of the few people who could see her like that, and fortunately, you also knew what to do in this situation.

-Here’s my plan for tonight: we’ll have food delivered, watch a movie, and spend the rest of the evening cuddling in bed. What do you think?

-I think it’s a very good plan, but I prefer that we start with cuddles.

You knew she probably said that because she simply didn’t want to get up, but you didn’t mind at all. On the contrary, even if you weren’t doing anything, you loved staying in bed with Vi for hours.

Once the evening plan was set, you stayed in bed for another hour until your stomachs brought you back to reality. Vi grabbed some clothes and went to the living room to choose a movie while you took care of ordering the food.

You spent the rest of the evening watching movies and eventually went to bed, satisfied and tired. Once in bed, Vi took you in her arms, and feeling sleep come, you rested your head on her shoulder, falling asleep after a few minutes. Before you fell completely asleep, you heard Vi’s voice.

-I love you.

[iamquiantrelle]

GOLDEN BOY (chapter 2)────── iamquaintrelle

⌗ pairing : trent alexander arnold x black oc

⌗ summary : trent is having a quarter life crisis but will a smart-mouthed girl whip him into shape?

⌗ warnings : 18+ only!! (☁️☔️💕)

⌗taglist: @foreverisntenough, @trentswrld, @trentswhore @cinnaleaf @v6quewrlds @football-and-fanfics @eriks-girl @preetykookie @4ngryssgf @endlessmuse @noturbabe22 @bbgkoo

Tyler was still talking, going on about lighting concepts, but Trent's mind was spinning like he'd just done dizzy penalties.

April fucking Goodplenty.

The girl who'd rinsed him about his accent was apparently some hotshot photographer to the stars. No wonder she wasn't gassed about him being TAA - she probably shot Mbappé in his boxers last week.

"…could really elevate your brand," Tyler was saying. "Show a different side of you, you know? More artistic–"

"I fucked her last night."

Tyler's fork clattered against his plate. "What?"

"Well, almost fucked her." Trent grimaced, remembering. "Got proper mortal on tequila."

"You're taking the piss."

"Swear down." Trent tugged his collar down, revealing the art gallery of hickeys April had left behind. "She's got this mental cat named Pussy–"

"Bruv." Tyler put his head in his hands. "You're telling me you pulled the photographer I've been trying to book for three months? The one who told Nike to fuck off because their concept wasn't 'authentic' enough?"

"…yeah?"

"And you got liquor dick?"

"Oi!" The elderly couple at the next table turned to stare, and Trent lowered his voice. "It weren't just me, she was proper steaming too."

Tyler started laughing, proper belly laughs that had heads turning all over the restaurant. "This is peak. Absolutely peak. The one time your dick decides to go on strike–"

"Listen yeah," Trent cut in, "we can't book her. It'd be weird now."

"Are you mad? This is perfect! She already knows you, innit? Might even give us a better rate–"

"Ty." Trent's voice was serious now. "She proper mugged me off this morning. Slammed the door in my face and everything. Think she'd just take the piss if we tried booking her."

"Or maybe…" Tyler had that look he got when he was plotting something. "Maybe she'd want to finish what you started."

Trent's mind flashed to this morning - April in that silk robe, the way it had gaped open just enough to drive him mental. The absolute violation that would be, her directing him all professional-like while knowing exactly what he looked like in just his boxers.

"Nah." He shook his head. "Find someone else."

"Too late." Tyler's grin was pure evil as he held up his phone. "Already sent the inquiry last week. Got a meeting with her tomorrow."

"You're taking the fucking piss."

"Meeting's at two. Her studio in Shoreditch." Tyler stood up, dropping some notes on the table. "Don't be late."

"I'm not going."

"Yes you are." Tyler's voice had that tone that meant business. "This is exactly what we need for your image right now. Bit of edge, bit of artistry. Show everyone you're more than just the scouse wonderkid."

Trent watched his brother leave, then slumped back in his chair. Fucking hell. Tomorrow was going to be madness.

His phone buzzed - Tyler sending through the studio address. Under it was a message that made his stomach flip:

'She already confirmed btw. Said she's "very interested" in working with you.'

Christ. What had he gotten himself into?

Trent's Range Rover crawled through Shoreditch's narrow streets, his GPS having trouble trying to navigate the one-way system. Warehouse conversions and street art blurred past as his mind wandered to the night before last - to tequila shots and spiced vanilla and yellow-eyed cats named after Bond girls.

"Just round here," Tyler pointed, and Trent pulled up outside a converted factory building. Red brick, massive windows, proper East London trendy.

"Still think this is dead weird," he muttered, killing the engine.

"Stop being a pussy and come on."

The receptionist buzzed them through to a freight lift that looked like something out of a horror film, all exposed metal and dodgy grinding noises. When it finally wheezed to a stop, they stepped out into what had to be April's studio.

And there she was.

Fuck me.

The high-waisted jeans should've been illegal, honestly. Hugging every curve like they were painted on, leading down to these mental heels that had Trent's brain short-circuiting. The cropped jumper showed just enough skin to be professional but still have him thinking very unprofessional thoughts. Her hair was pulled back today, showing off cheekbones that could probably cut glass.

"Tyler," she smiled, all business now. "And… Trent. Nice to see you both."

The way she said his name had him remembering exactly how it sounded when she'd been leaving those marks on his neck. Speaking of which…

"Still sporting those love bites, I see," she smirked, gesturing for them to follow her into what looked like a meeting room. "Rough weekend?"

"Something like that," he managed, trying not to stare at her ass as she walked ahead of them. But fucking hell, those jeans were criminal.

The meeting room was all exposed brick and vintage furniture, mood boards covering one wall. April perched on the edge of the table, crossing those legs like she knew exactly what she was doing to his mental state.

"So," she began, pulling up some images on her laptop. "I've got some concepts I think could work really well. Break away from the usual footballer shoot - no watches, no posing with cars. Something more… raw."

Tyler leaned forward, interested. "Go on."

"I'm thinking black and white, minimal styling. Really strip everything back." She turned her laptop around, showing similar shoots she'd done. "Some torso shots, maybe even full nude–"

"What?" Trent choked out.

"Nothing gratuitous," she continued like he hadn't spoken. "All very tasteful. Think Greek sculpture vibes. Show the athletic form, the power, the vulnerability…"

"Nah," Trent shook his head. "No chance."

"Why not?" Those eyes fixed on him, challenging. "Scared?"

"I'm not scared," he bristled. "Just don't fancy getting my kit off for your camera, do I?"

"Wouldn't be the first time you've stripped for me though, would it?"

Tyler's eyebrows shot up as Trent felt his face heat. "That was different–"

"Was it?" She tilted her head, that infuriating smirk playing at her lips. "Because I seem to remember you being quite… willing."

"We'll think about it," Tyler cut in smoothly, ever the professional. "Maybe start with something less… exposed? Build up to it?"

April shrugged, standing up. "Your call. But I think you're missing an opportunity here. Could be something special."

As they headed for the lift, she called out: "Oh, and Trent? Might want to invest in some turtlenecks. Those marks look proper savage. Almost like you ran into a vampire or something."

"That what you are then? A vampire?"

Her laugh echoed through the studio - an unfiltered belly laugh that had him staring. Head thrown back, eyes crinkled, nothing like her professional photographer persona. Something in his chest did a weird flip.

"You're mental, you know that?" he said, but he was grinning despite himself.

"So I've been told." She winked - actually winked - and disappeared back into her office.

Outside, Tyler was already on his phone, probably lining up their next meeting. "That went well."

"Well?" Trent spluttered. "She wants me naked!"

"Not straight away though. We can build up to it–"

"I'm not getting my dick out for art, Ty!"

"No one said anything about your dick," Tyler grinned. "Unless… you thinking about showing her that too?"

"Shut up."

"Nah but seriously," Tyler pocketed his phone, turning to face him. "Did you see those other shots she showed us? Proper sick. Could really change how people see you."

Trent leaned against his car, thinking about it. The photos had been amazing - athletes looking powerful but vulnerable at the same time. Nothing sleazy about it. But still…

"She's just going to take the piss the whole time."

"Maybe that's what you need though?" Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Someone who doesn't treat you like TAA, Liverpool's golden boy. When was the last time someone actually challenged you properly?"

Never, if he was being honest. Even Sophie had just tried to mold him into what she thought he should be. But April… she seemed dead set on doing the opposite.

"Plus," Tyler added with a smirk, "think you might be into it a bit."

"What?"

"The way she mugs you off. Saw your face when she was giving it the big one about being scared. You proper love it."

"Fuck off," Trent laughed, but his neck felt hot. Was he actually into being challenged like that? The way she'd rinsed him about everything, how she kept him on his toes…

Christ. Maybe he did have a thing for it.

"Just think about it," Tyler said, already walking to the passenger side. "Meeting's in the diary for next week. Wear something nice."

Trent watched his brother disappear inside the car, then looked back up at the studio windows. Through the massive panes of glass, he could just make out April's silhouette, bent over her desk reviewing something.

Those fucking jeans though.

Maybe one more meeting wouldn't hurt.

Liverpool's training ground was freezing, typical January weather making everyone's breath visible in the air. Trent tugged at his high-neck base layer, grateful for the excuse of the cold to cover up April's artwork. Two days later and the marks were still there, like she'd been trying to brand him or something.

"Again!" Slot's voice carried across the pitch. "Press higher, Trent! Control that space!"

He pushed forward, finding that pocket between the defensive line in the practice match. The ball came to his feet like it was on a string - muscle memory from thousands of repetitions. One touch, two touch, whipped cross to Nuñez who buried it in the top corner.

"Better! Take five, lads!"

Trent grabbed his water bottle and phone from his bag, dropping onto one of the benches. His thumb opened Raya automatically - sad behavior really, but he couldn't help himself. Been glued to it since New Year's, swiping through posh girls and influencers without really seeing them.

Until.

"You're fucking joking," he muttered, nearly dropping his phone.

There she was. April Goodplenty, 27, verified profile with that little blue tick. Her first photo was something artistic - all shadows and angles, showing off those cheekbones that could probably slice bread. The next one had her on some beach in Bali, wearing this tiny white bikini that had his throat going dry. Then one of her working, camera in hand, tongue caught between her teeth in concentration.

The bio though: "If your profile's got you in a watch and suit, save us both the time and swipe left xx"

Trent snorted. Course she'd have that energy on here too.

His thumb hovered over her profile. Would she even swipe right on him? Probably saw him as just another job now. Plus there was that whole… liquor dick situation. Total violation that was.

Fuck it.

He swiped right just as Slot's whistle pierced the air.

"Let's go! Set piece drills!"

Back to work then. He jogged back onto the pitch, trying to focus on football instead of wondering if she'd match with him. They ran through corner routines, free kick patterns, all the stuff that should've had his full attention. But his mind kept drifting to spiced vanilla and burgundy nails and that laugh that made his chest do weird things.

"Trent!" Slot's voice snapped him back. "You're dropping too deep again!"

Get it together, lad.

By the time training finished, he was tired. The shower felt biblical, hot water washing away the January chill. He wrapped a towel around his waist and another around his neck to hide the love bites, heading for his locker when his phone lit up with a notification.

New match on Raya.

His heart actually skipped. What was he, twelve?

But there she was - April Goodplenty had swiped right. And she'd already sent a message:

"You get one second chance. Don't fuck it up."

His first thought was "Yes ma'am" but that felt a bit… eager. Instead, he sent back a salute emoji, trying to play it cool while his brain was doing cartwheels.

Right then. Where the fuck do you take a girl who thinks fancy restaurants are dead and probably knows every hipster spot in London?

He opened Google, typing "unique date ideas Liverpool" before deleting it immediately. Nah, that was basic. She'd see right through that.

What about… he thought back to her flat. All those vinyls, the art everywhere. The way her eyes lit up when she was taking the piss out of his accent.

Maybe he did have an idea. Something properly scouse, but make it interesting. Show her his Liverpool, not the sanitized version he usually showed girls like Sophie.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, a grin spreading across his face. Oh yeah. This could work.

Now he just had to not fuck it up.

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

Two-all against Man United felt like a kick in the teeth. Trent's yellow card was still burning him up - such a soft call from the ref after Rashford went down like he'd been shot. The crowd had lost it, Anfield turning into a cauldron of noise as Man United's number ten rolled around like he was auditioning for the Olympics.

The gaffer had given them the "point's a point" speech in the dressing room, but it didn't help the taste of ash in his mouth. Should've had that game wrapped up in the first half - hit the post twice, had a penalty shout waved away. Then Bruno's equalizer in the 89th minute... violation that.

And now he had to somehow get his head right for this date.

He'd picked Baltic Market - bit different from his usual spots, proper Liverpool but with an edge. Street food stalls, local artists, that indie record shop in the corner that reminded him of April's flat. No fancy tablecloths or sommeliers giving it the big one about wine pairings. Just real Liverpool culture, the kind tourists never got to see.

His phone buzzed - probably Tyler asking about the match. But nah, just his mum sending another article about his yellow card. Christ, did everyone have an opinion these days?

"This better work," he muttered, checking the time again. Seven minutes late. Maybe she'd ghosted. Wouldn't be surprised after that meeting, him acting all precious about getting his kit off–

"Didn't expect you to actually pick somewhere decent."

That voice. He turned and… fuck me.

The Balenciaga jumpsuit was doing criminal things to her figure, and those heels had her almost at his height. Her coat was probably worth more than his entire outfit, but she wore it like it was nothing. Those curls though - bouncing with every movement, making his fingers itch to touch them.

"Rough match?" she asked, and he could've kissed her for not going straight into analysis mode like everyone else after a draw.

"Something like that."

"Good thing I know just the cure." She nodded toward the entrance. "Shall we?"

Inside was buzzing - fairy lights strung across the ceiling, music from some local band floating through the air, the smell of about twelve different cuisines mixing together. April's eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas, taking it all in.

"Now this," she said, "is more like it."

They ended up at this Korean street food stall, April going in on some bulgogi fries while telling him about this shoot she did with some rugby player who kept flexing his abs between takes.

"Real tragic," she laughed, licking sauce off her fingers in a way that had his mind going places it shouldn't. "Like mate, I can see them, you don't need to keep pushing them out. Looked like he was having a fit."

"That what you want me to do then? Get my abs out?"

"Please," she rolled her eyes, but he caught the way her gaze flickered to his torso. "Your ego's big enough already. Plus, after that meeting... seems like you're scared of the camera."

"I'm not scared," he bristled. "Just don't fancy having my arse all over magazines."

"Shame," she smirked. "It's quite a nice arse."

Before he could process that, she was already moving on to the next stall, leaving him standing there like an idiot.

They wandered through the market, April stopping to chat with every artist about their work. She knew her stuff too - passionate about it all. Made him think about those art prints in her flat, how everything there had felt intentional. Not like his place with its designer furniture picked out by some interior decorator.

The record shop owner recognized him, but instead of the usual selfie request, he and April got into this massive debate about vinyl pressings that Trent couldn't follow for shit. But watching her get excited about it, those curls bouncing as she gestured, the way her eyes lit up when she found some rare pressing... it was doing something to his chest, making it feel tight in a way that had nothing to do with the match earlier.

"Trent?"

He blinked, realizing he'd been staring. "What?"

"I said, should we get out of here?"

Outside, the Liverpool air was bitter now. April pulled her coat tighter, those curls whipping in the wind, and Trent had to stuff his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to touch them.

"Listen," she said suddenly, turning to face him. "Let's cut the chase. I'm a busy woman, you're a busy man... so are we trying to fuck each other or are you pussy?"

Trent nearly choked on air. "I- what?"

"You heard me."

"You slammed a door in my face!" he spluttered. "Like, what are you talking about?"

"Sorry," she shrugged, not looking sorry at all. Those eyes were dancing with mischief again. "I saw you giving me the eyes at our meeting. And you swiped right on Raya, so..."

His brain was short-circuiting. This girl was actually mental. Completely off her head. Saying whatever came to mind like she didn't give a fuck about the consequences. And fuck him if it wasn't the most attractive thing he'd ever seen.

"You're actually mad," he said, but he was grinning.

"Maybe." She stepped closer, close enough that he could smell that spiced vanilla again. Close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes, the way her lips curved into that smile that spelled trouble. "But I don't see you running."

No, he definitely wasn't running. Not when she was looking at him like that, like she was deciding exactly how she wanted to ruin him. Not when those curls were right there, begging to be touched. Not when everything about her was a challenge he desperately wanted to accept.

"So?" She raised an eyebrow, and he could see the marks she'd left on his neck reflected in her eyes. "What's it going to be?"

The wind whipped around them, carrying the distant sounds of the city - cars honking, music from the market, someone laughing. But all Trent could focus on was the way April was looking at him, those eyes challenging him like always. Making him feel like more than just TAA, Liverpool's golden boy. Making him feel... real.

Fuck it.

"Your place or mine?"

Her smile turned wicked. "Bold of you to assume I'm that easy."

"You literally just asked if-"

"I know what I asked." She took a step back, and he immediately missed her warmth. "But maybe I just wanted to see what you'd say."

Christ. This girl was going to be the death of him.

"See you at the studio next week, Trent," she called over her shoulder, already walking away. "Try not to think about me too much."

He watched her disappear into the night, those curls bouncing with each step, that jumpsuit doing ungodly things to his mind.

Too late for that, wasn't it? He was already in too deep, and they both knew it.

The worst part? He was starting to think he didn't mind at all.

…………tbd

[little-fairy-forest]

Say that shit again

Bakugo x gn! Reader

Bakugo takes part in the lastest tiktok trend to his dismay, all joked aside once his mother gets the final word

Note : mentions of gaining weight,

"Absolutely not" bakugo grumbles as he cleans the dishes after dinner at his parents house. You sit at the bar table as you try to persuade your boyfriend into partaking in a 'funny' tiktok trend you've seen some couples do

"Whats the worst that could happen, she loves us‐"

"Nuh uh, the old man would be stern with me but..." katsuki looks around to make sure his mom isn't within ear shot "the old hag will hang me if I even mess with you"

You laugh at Katsuki's reasoning, as yes, he is right. Mitsuki has your back even if you're in the wrong, much to Katsuki's annoyance.

"Just once!" You bargain "I'll jump in if things get too heated"

Katsuki finishes washing the dishes and turns to you with a blank stare

"You've one shot and film'n that dumb tiktok–"

You bounce out of your chair in victory, already getting the camera set up, isn't life great when katsuki decides to listen to you?

————

The camera is set up so its facing katsuki, but hidden behind the fruit bowl. You'd be lying if you weren't nervous yourself for Mitsuki's reaction to Katsuki being mean to you in front of her.

Mitsuki is now at the dining room table reading a magazine and having tea whilst you and katsuki are at the kitchen bar table "have a conversation". If only Mitsuki knew what chaos was being plotted right in front of her.

You could smell the smoke off Katsuki's palms due to how nervous he was. Too late to turn back. You send him a reasurring smile as you tap the countdown button on your phone to start recording.

You start off the conversation by asking Katsuki to put the kettle on and you'd go find some treats to have together

"I think theres some mochi in the fridge if you'd like some? Or maybe we could bake something" you calmly.

Katsuki speaks in his usual brash tone " you don't need anymore sugar, theres fruit right there dumbass"

Mitsuki perks up at the sound of Katsuki's harsh voice, ever so slightly missed what he said as she was engrossed in her magazine. That was close.. too close.

"But kats its Friday, so a treat is okay!" You saying trying to convince your boyfriend to comply with your simple reasoning.

"No." He says sternly, "you could bearly manoeuvre around the course earlier, let alone dodge half n halfs attacks earlier..."

Mitsuki has now started to fully listen, carfully settling down her magazine to see where katsuki is going with this conversation.

"Its only one treat i promise!" You plead with the blond, you notice another head turn and speak up.

"Katsuki theres fresh mochi in the fridge, strawberry or lemon, I can make something else if yous like" Mitsuki trys to reason woth her son. She knows herself how strict he is with his own diet, but she never have thought he would be strict with your diet.

"I already told them no, and besides their hero suit was lookin' a little tight earlier"

Silence. Deafening silence.

No one deared to move, all that could be heard was the ticking of the wall clock and Mitsuki clearly her throat before speaking in a deadly voice.

"Say that shit again, I dare you"

Oh no. Katsuki is absolutely dead–

"Ma hold on–" katsuki immediately tries to defuse to argument that hadn't even started yet, but as a hothead himself he knew where his mothers temper would lead to.

"Is that the way you talk to your partner? Huh?" Mitsuki was in full parenting mode. Even though her son stands taller then she, best believe she isn't afraid to stand up to him.

Katsuki stutters over his words, for once he wasn't sure if he should even dare yell back at his mothers face.

"Uh - we, we were just‐"

"Bullshit"

"Ma listen," katsuki looks over to you for help. Katsuki has to decide if he wants his ass beaten or protect his partner.

"I know you love him y/n, but if you mind letting me deal with this child who thinks he can talk to his partner like that–"

Yes you love his family, but you don't love how they commicate.

But you also love adding fuel to the fire

"Mitsuki, he didn't even let me finish my lunch earlier! He said and i quote 'lookin like a sack of potato's in a school uniform'"

*boom*

No Katsuki's were hurt in the making of this fic.

Go check out my masterlist !

Requests are open :)

[wendichester]

Hello Darling

Should I be working? Yes…

Have I instead read almost your entire posts about Dean? Maybe…

Do I regret the overtime I now need to work? Absolutely not!

You are so gifted! And I was wondering if I could request a little something… if it’s not up your street that’s totally fine as well!

Maybe Dean knows the reader from way back like high school or something an now he meets her again in a bar that she owns… maybe feelings resurface that both had tried to keep buried and it gets steamy in baby?

Luv ya 🍄

☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ coming home,

summary. there's nothing like coming back to a place where you once felt like home.

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 1115

notes. hiya hun! thank you so much for sending this through. honestly had me giggling and kicking my feet with the beginning of this ask. love you! 🩷🍄

Dean pushes the bar's door open, being immediately met by the smell of whiskey and old wood, the low hum of classic rock filling the air. His boots scuffing against the floor as he scans the room. It’s nothing fancy—just a neighborhood joint with a dartboard in the corner and a jukebox that’s probably been there since the 80s—but something about it feels warm. Familiar.

And then he sees you.

You’re behind the bar, hair tied back, moving with easy confidence as you pour a drink. Dean stops in his tracks, the years between high school and now melting away in an instant.

It’s been over a decade since he’s seen you. You’d been the smart, sharp-tongued girl who didn’t take crap from anyone, not even him. And if he’s being honest, he’d had it bad for you back then—your quick wit, your easy laugh, the way you saw through all his bravado. But he’d buried those feelings, just like he buried everything else, and life moved on as his dad forced him into another life; a new start because of yet another hunt.

But now, watching you laugh with a customer, that same spark in your eyes, it’s like no time has passed.

He must’ve been staring too long, because suddenly you glance his way—and freeze.

“Dean Winchester,” you say, a grin spreading across your face as you set down the glass you were polishing.

“Y/N,” he says, a little breathless as he steps closer. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

You lean against the bar, arms crossed, and he tries not to notice how the years have only made you more beautiful. “What are you doing here?”

“Passing through,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal, though his heart is pounding. “Heard this place was good. Didn’t know it was yours.”

You laugh, the sound wrapping around him like a warm blanket. “Yeah, well, someone had to turn this dump into something decent.”

“Looks like you did a hell of a job,” he says, glancing around before meeting your eyes again. “How long’s it been?”

“Too long,” you say, your voice softening. “You want a drink, or are you just here to reminisce?”

“I'll take both,” he says with a grin, sliding onto a barstool.

The conversation flows easily, memories spilling out between sips of whiskey. You tease him about his old leather jacket that somehow still fits, and he reminds you of the time you beat him at pool and made him buy you ice cream.

But there’s a weight to the air now, a tension that wasn’t there before. Every brush of your hand as you pass him a drink, every glance that lingers a little too long—it all feels electric.

When the night winds down and the bar clears out, you lock the door and turn to find him still sitting there, watching you with that look in his eyes. The one that used to make your knees weak in high school.

“You sticking around town for a while?” you ask, leaning against the bar.

“Maybe,” he says, standing and closing the distance between you. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not you’d wanna go for a drive,” he says, his voice low, his lips quirking into a smirk.

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it cool. “Still using Baby to pick up girls, huh?”

“Only the special ones,” he says, and the way he’s looking at you makes it clear you’re at the top of that list.

Before you know it, you’re sliding into the passenger seat of the Impala, the engine rumbling to life as he pulls out of the parking lot. The night air is cool, the windows cracked, and the hum of the road beneath you feels like old times.

When he pulls off onto a quiet stretch of road and kills the engine, you turn to him with a raised eyebrow. “This where you murder me?”

“Funny,” he says, leaning closer, his hand resting on the back of your seat. “Nah, just figured it’s been too long since we really talked.”

“Talked, huh?” you say, your voice teasing.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “Missed you, sweetheart. More than I realized.”

The words hang heavy in the air, and before you can second-guess yourself, you close the distance, your lips crashing into his.

The kiss is fire, heat, and years of pent-up tension unraveling in one heady moment. His hand slides into your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath hitch, while your fingers curl into the leather of his jacket, pulling him closer. The air in the Impala feels stifling, the windows fogging up as his tongue slips past your lips, the taste of whiskey making your head spin.

“Damn,” he breathes when you finally pull back, his forehead resting against yours. His hand slides down to your waist, fingertips tracing the curve of your hip. “Should’ve done that years ago.”

“You’re a little slow on the uptake,” you tease, but your voice is breathless, and your fingers are already trailing down his chest, finding the buttons of his shirt.

“Yeah?” he grins, leaning back just enough to take you in, his eyes dark and heated. “Why don’t you catch me up then?”

You shift, climbing over to straddle his lap, the tight space forcing you to press closer, your knees bracketing his hips. His hands settle on your thighs, the heat of his palms searing through your jeans as his gaze sweeps over you.

“You’re trouble,” he mutters, but there’s no mistaking the hunger in his voice, the way his hands tighten their grip.

“Always have been,” you whisper back, capturing his lips again, this time slower, deeper, your hips rocking against his.

The Impala creaks as you move, your bodies fitting together like a puzzle. Dean groans into your mouth, one hand slipping under your shirt to splay against the small of your back, his calloused fingers drawing shivers as they skim your skin.

“You keep this up, sweetheart,” he rasps, his voice rough and low, “we’re not making it back to your bar tonight.”

“Who said we need to?” you counter, your lips brushing the shell of his ear before you nip at his jawline, making him curse softly.

His head falls back against the seat, his eyes blazing as he looks at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, his hands sliding up your thighs, pulling you even closer.

And as you lose yourselves in each other, the world outside the Impala fades away, leaving nothing but the two of you and the years of longing finally spilling over.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze

[hearts4johnwick]

SUMMARY. 𝜗𝜚 your husband has been missing for almost two months now, yearning for him is making you relive some of your best memories.

CW. 𝜗𝜚 mentions of od’ing, fluff & angst (whose page are you in??? ofc it’s angst 👅) bold = flashbacks

A/N. 𝜗𝜚 umm i know absolutely nothing!!!about south korea or their schools, so this is purely based off of american schools bc my latina ass is not cultured on this, if yall wanna correct me or help me in some stuff, pls do! just know i’m writing this for fun tho <3

the voice of your teacher announcing a new student catches your attention, a boy with slightly longer hair stands beside her, holding onto his backpack. “this is kang dae-ho, he is transferring from seoul, and as your new classmate, you shall treat him with respect.” your eyes analyze dae-ho, he’s cute, you think. you glance over to your friend and she raises her eyebrow in a flirty manner, you smile.

“find a seat, dear.” there were plenty of seats available, but the seat beside you was the one he was eyeing the most, and you did not mind at all if he sat next to you.

the two of you make eye contact and you watch his eyebrows raise slightly, he quickly makes his way to the seat beside you. you give him a soft smile and he returns it, a soft hint of redness grows on his face.

“of course.” your friend playfully rolls her eyes and you chuckle before the teacher begins the class.

once the class finished, you head to your lockers to put away your books, in the distance you see dae-ho and your friend speaks. “you should go and talk to him, maybe we can go to the bakery after school.” you look at her and nod.

“that’s a good idea.” you walk away from your locker, your hand holding your other over your legs as you make your way toward him. dae-ho turns and his heart begins to race as if your beauty leaves him speechless, or you coming up to him caught him off guard. “dae-ho, was it?” he nods. “nice to meet you, I’m y/n.”

he smiles widely. “cute name for a cute girl.” you smile, his confidence taking you aback for a slight moment.

“thank you.” you feel your face heat up, but you brush it off. “my friend and i were wondering if you’d like to join us at the bakery right across the street after school? we usually go there for some lunch, since the lunch here is not too good.” you make a disgusted noise and scrunch your nose, he laughs and you smile.

“I’d like that,” he says and you smile.

“great. see you there. what’s your next class?” you ask him, and he tells you that it’s math, you exclaim when you look at his schedule and realize you have every single class together.

after classes finish, the three of you do as you agreed and head to the bakery. you get to know a lot about dae-ho, and you find out you have much more in common than you ever thought. he’s energetic and kind, and you admire that.

“so, do you have any plans after graduation?” you ask him, breaking the silence your friend left you both in after her mother came to pick her up.

he hums, taking his time thinking what to say. “joining the marines is a good idea.” you raise an eyebrow. “but, apart from that—i’d love to marry a pretty girl, maybe start a family with her, maybe move back to the city, or move to costa rica, i’ve seen pictures and i think it’s the most beautiful place i’ve ever seen.” you can’t help but smile at his plans, they’re quite nice. “and you?” he asks you your question.

“i want to become a veterinarian. i love animals so much, i’ve rescued some! dogs and cats!”

“what do you do after? do you keep them?” he questions.

“oh no no! i’m allergic to cats, i just send them to a shelter or put them up for adoption. when animals stay in shelters too long they sometimes kill them, and i hate that. i wish i could keep every animal i rescue, but ive only kept two dogs, two german shepherds.”

dae-ho laughs. “remind me not to mess with you, then.” you laugh at his joke.

“yeah, don’t.” you suck on your bottom lip and look at him. “but, apart from becoming a veterinarian, I’d also like to marry a handsome guy, and maybe start a family, although, I’m alright with dogs—how many kids do you want?”

“i want 4.” your breath hitches, and you grimace, you’re acting as if you’re gonna be the mother, but, you couldn’t help it.

“your poor wife.” you place your lips into a thin line. you two share a short laugh and continue to get to know each other.

you and dae-ho grew fond of each other in only 3 months, he was even walking you to your house, no matter the fact that his house was nearly 20 minutes from yours.

one night, you and dae-ho stand in your front steps, before you say goodbye, he grabs your hand and caresses it softly. “y/n.” he begins, he has all of your attention. “why don’t we… take a break from the bakery and go to an actual restaurant…maybe tomorrow?” he pauses between his words, thinking thoroughly about what he’s saying. when he sees your expression soften, he knows it’s going great.

“i’d love to.” you smile widely and place a hand on his cheek gently. the two of you share a sweet moment, he said he’ll text you the details, and you dismiss him with a kiss on the cheek and the blood rushing to his cheek makes your heart flutter.

one date led to another, and then another, after that, another one, until it became a weekly thing. when the two of you graduated, he quickly went off to the marines, and you were proud of him for that, he could do what he wished for, but you were terrified at the same time, terrified that one day he might not come home, and the thought of that destroyed you.

him coming back home permanently meant everything to you, you thought that maybe you could start a family now, you were at a fine age, you were married and financially stable, your job was paying you very well, and so was, dae-ho’s, but now that he’s back—forever now, that might change—and, it did.

you turn sideways on your bed, your hand brushes the cold spot next to you, it’s empty, you don’t like that feeling at all, it makes you feel empty. you remember the moments when dae-ho kept you warm, the times after intimate moments when you would just lay in his chest, staring into his eyes, or simply when you would fall asleep in each other’s arms.

you check the time, and it’s 2:34 am, you sigh and stare at your ceiling, and you start to feel tears pooling in your eyes. you stand from your bed and head over to the closet. there, you take one of dae-ho’s jackets and hug it, as if he was wearing it as if you were hugging him. his scent made your heart ache, this was the closest you’d been to him in almost two months.

you sob your heart out as you slide down the wall, softly murmuring his name like a prayer, hoping he’ll hear you.

your finger softly curls dae-ho’s hair, and the two of you admire each other in the spotlight, his hand on your hip and yours on his shoulder, sharing the prom king and queen dance.

“prom king, huh?” you raise an eyebrow.

“no thanks to you, prom queen.” he chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“what’s a king without his queen?” dae-ho raises his eyebrows and nods. “this is so embarrassing, i hope they’re not looking—or looking at you.” you chuckle.

“no, trust me. they’re looking at you.” your eyes light up, and your face gets hot, but you don’t know if it’s because of embarrassment or his compliment. “you look unbelievable tonight, y/n. i can’t imagine you on our wedding day.” he says, your mouth opens and your heart flutters, god, you cannot wait to marry him, he’s all you’ve ever wished for, you don’t care that he’s your first love, you think he’s the love of your life—you know he is, and that’s what matters, not what people think.

“i love you.” your confession catches him off guard, he’s said it before, but you never said it back, only ‘me too’ but the words ‘I love you’ have never come out of your mouth, and even though you’ve been wanting to say it ever since the moment you laid eyes on him, something has been stopping you, but you knew it was about time.

“i love you more,” he says back, and you smile widely. you embrace each other, but continue your dance until it concludes.

shortly after graduation, the two of you decided that after dae-ho serves his time in the marines, you’d get married—and so you did. your wedding was beautiful, it was intimate, with only two or three family members from dae-ho’s side, for obvious reasons, and almost your whole family tree.

your family loved dae-ho as if he was their own, and that made you feel very grateful, dae-ho had a rough childhood, and seeing him get the love he never had growing up was better than anything you could ever ask for.

the day of your marriage was truly the happiest day you’ve ever been, and let’s not even talk about the night. from then on, you appreciated every single moment with dae-ho, you always have, but you’re treasuring them even more now. the two of you began to travel, you started with costa rica, of course, and so on—you went to some places such as japan, tennessee, bali, dominican republic, and all of europe, you’d hope that between this year and next, you can finish traveling the caribbean because dae-ho loves the caribbean and the beaches.

you had planned for the bahamas on your next trip, but this is around the time when your husband was struggling, and when he turned up missing.

dae-ho has been missing for almost two months, he just vanished into thin air, he didn’t leave you a note, or a text message, he just… left. and you missed him dearly, you thought these months as an eternity, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

the orange bottle of full pills was tempting you—you wanted to end this pain, you wanted to end it now. he could end it, if he would just show up on the doorstep, just him, you don’t even want flowers or a gift, you just need him, or the other reason to end it is to just not keep living.

why would you need to keep living? the reason you are hasn’t been here with you these days—you have no reason to keep living, so why not just finish it?

your brother found you, he took you in his arms, sobbing and calling out your name. the bright hospital light was bothering you, your vision was blurry and your heartbeat was steady, slower than usual, but it was still beating, and that was the important thing.

the cold, dry air of the hospital made you feel sicker as if you were actually dead. you had your eyes closed when you felt a familiar, warm touch in your hand. you try your best to open your eyes, but your vision is still blurry.

“dae-ho?” you croak, a drop of wetness rolling down your cheek in pain. you hear no answer, so you don’t know if you’re hallucinating, or dreaming, but you cry.

you had thought that maybe—maybe he’d been back, oh, god you wish he’d been back, just so that you could spend the time you have left with him—but one thing is for sure, and it’s that you’ll soon be seeing him, whether that would be in the flesh, or the after life, is still to be decided.

❛ i wish i could live without you

but you’re a part of me. ❜

[andy-15-07]

Hi, I would love to see a Paulxactress fix where Pedro Pascal is like a father figure to her and Pedro give Paul a hard time.

Irish Charm

PAIRING:Paul Mescal x reader

WORD COUNT: 1229 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Paul Mescal Masterlist

The Los Angeles sun beat down mercilessly on the set of "The Lost City of Z." Y/n, drenched in sweat, swatted at a pesky mosquito. "Pedro," she groaned, "I swear, these bugs are out to get me."

Pedro, ever the stoic observer, raised an eyebrow. "Embrace the Amazon, mi amor. It's part of the experience."

Y/n rolled her eyes, "Easy for you to say. You're practically one with the jungle."

Pedro chuckled, his deep voice a rumble that always sent a shiver down her spine. "Years of training, chica. You'll get there."

Their banter was a familiar rhythm, a comfortable dance of playful teasing and genuine affection. Y/n had met Pedro on the set of "Kingsman: The Golden Circle," and an instant, unlikely bond had formed. He was older, wiser, a seasoned veteran of the industry. She, a rising star, still finding her footing. He saw something in her – a raw talent, a fierce spirit, and a vulnerability that reminded him of his own younger self.

He became her mentor, her confidante, the closest thing she had to a father figure. He'd offer tough love, honest criticism, and unwavering support. He'd scold her for staying out too late, worry about her dating life, and celebrate every single one of her successes.

"Speaking of experience," Pedro said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I hear you're working with a certain Irish charmer these days."

Y/n blushed, "Oh, Pedro."

"Don't 'Oh, Pedro' me, chica. I've seen those eyes. They sparkle like the goddamn Milky Way."

"He's... nice."

Pedro snorted. "Nice? Paul Mescal is a force of nature. He could charm the birds out of the trees." He paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Tell me, does he treat you right?"

Y/n hesitated. "He's... good. He's kind, and funny, and incredibly talented."

"Talented, yes. But is he kind to your soul? Does he make you feel safe?"

Y/n smiled. "He does. He makes me feel seen, you know? Like I'm not just an actress, but a person."

Pedro nodded approvingly. "Good. Good. Now, about this 'Normal People'…"

Y/n groaned. "Pedro, no."

"I've seen it. Twice. I'm a fan. But I'm also a concerned friend. I've seen the way he looks at you, chica. That boy is head over heels."

"He's just… nice."

"Nice? He's like a puppy dog, always by your side, those eyes full of wonder. And don't even get me started on the accent." Pedro chuckled. "Sounds like melted butter."

Y/n laughed, "You're impossible."

"Just looking out for you, mi amor. Don't get hurt."

Y/n knew he meant well. Pedro's protectiveness stemmed from a deep-seated love for her. He'd seen the industry chew people up and spit them out, and he wanted to shield her from the worst of it.

A few weeks later, Y/n found herself on the set of her new film, a romantic comedy opposite Paul. The chemistry between them was undeniable, both on and off screen. They spent hours dissecting scenes, their laughter echoing through the soundstage.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Paul invited her to grab dinner. They found a cozy Italian restaurant, the warm glow of the candlelight casting a romantic haze over the room.

"You know," Paul said, taking a sip of his wine, "Pedro keeps talking about you."

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "He does?"

"Yeah, always asking how I'm treating his 'little bird'."

Y/n chuckled. "He's so protective."

"He seems like a great guy. A real mentor."

"He is. He's like the older brother I never had."

Paul smiled. "You're lucky to have him."

The evening progressed, the conversation flowing easily. They talked about their childhoods, their dreams, their hopes for the future. As the night deepened, Paul leaned closer, his eyes searching hers.

"Y/n," he began, his voice husky, "I know we've only been working together for a short time, but…"

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest. This was it. The moment she'd been waiting for.

"But what, Paul?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

He reached across the table, his hand gently brushing against hers. "I think I'm falling for you."

Y/n felt a wave of warmth wash over her. She wanted to say it back, to confess that his words echoed her own feelings. But a flicker of doubt, a ghost of Pedro's warning, crossed her mind.

"Paul," she began, her voice hesitant, "I… I really like you too. But I'm scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of getting hurt. Of getting my heart broken."

Paul's expression softened. "I understand. I don't want to scare you. I just want you to know how I feel."

"I know," she said, her voice catching. "And I appreciate it more than you know."

They spent the rest of the evening in comfortable silence, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

The next day, Y/n sought out Pedro. She found him on set, deep in conversation with the director.

"Pedro," she said, approaching him cautiously.

He looked up, a smile spreading across his face. "Mi amor. How was dinner?"

Y/n hesitated, unsure how to broach the subject. "It was… nice."

Pedro raised an eyebrow. "Just nice?"

"Well," she said, taking a deep breath, "Paul… he told me how he feels."

Pedro's smile faded. "And?"

"And… I don't know what to do."

Pedro listened patiently, his gaze unwavering. When she finished, he remained silent for a long moment, lost in thought.

"He's a good man, Y/n," he said finally. "A kind, talented man."

"I know."

"But you have to trust your gut. Don't let fear hold you back."

Y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

"Remember what I told you, chica?" he said, his voice gentle. "Does he make you feel safe?"

She thought back to the previous night, to the way Paul had looked at her, the way he made her feel seen, cherished. A slow smile spread across her face.

"He does," she whispered.

Pedro smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile. "Then go for it, mi amor. Go for it all."

With Pedro's blessing, Y/n finally allowed herself to fully embrace her feelings for Paul. Their relationship blossomed, a delicate flower nurtured by trust, respect, and a healthy dose of playful banter.

Pedro, ever the watchful guardian, kept a close eye on their progress. He'd offer subtle advice, a knowing glance, a gentle nudge in the right direction.

One evening, while visiting Y/n and Paul at their apartment, Pedro found himself watching them with a fond smile. They were curled up on the couch, lost in conversation, their laughter filling the room. Paul, ever the charmer, was making Y/n laugh until her sides ached.

"You know," Pedro said, his voice soft, "I think I did alright."

Y/n looked up, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You think?"

"I knew you two were meant to be," he said, a twinkle in his eye. "Besides," he added with a wink, "I wouldn't want to miss out on all the wedding stories."

Y/n blushed, while Paul grinned. "Don't worry, tío," he said, "you'll be the first to know."

Pedro chuckled, his heart overflowing with pride. He had played his part, nudging them towards happiness, ensuring that his "little bird" found her safe harbor. And as he watched the two of them, their love a radiant beacon in the fading light, he knew that he wouldn't have had it any other way.