#walking on half a leg carrying the rest of it in one hand: hey who wants to help me readhere my limbs

[wordsarelife]

—endgame

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: mattheo is absolutely in love with you, but now it seems like he spent a bit too long not telling you that

warnings: cursing, suggestive language

notes: guys this was not supposed to be posted lmaooo!! but i‘ll just leave it here, now that it’s too late anyway 😭

the slytherin boys were lazily slumped over the couches in the common room, casually chattering as the fire burned in front of them.

"and then she asked me to show her how to fly sometime" enzo shrugged as he finished his explanation "i mean she was there when we learned that in first year, so i'm not sure why i would have to show her"

"you oblivious little idiot" blaise slapped a pillow against enzo's head, who let out a whimper at the sudden hit.

"she was flirting with you" draco exclaimed with a roll of his eyes and without even looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

"oh" enzo said dumbfounded.

"she knows that you're crazy about quidditch" theo added.

"yeah" mattheo agreed "she probably wanted to flatter you, telling you how good you are at flying and you didn't even understand that"

"oh" enzo mumbled once again and the regret in his voice made his friends perk up.

draco let the newspaper rest in his lap. "what did you answer?" he asked, quirking a brow.

"the exact same thing i just told you guys" enzo admitted shamefully, which was accompanied by blaise and mattheo loudly groaning.

"you really are an oblivious idiot" draco shook his head in a disappointed manner, before going back to his newspaper.

before enzo could say anything else to defend himself, there were giggles coming from the stairs. blaise and mattheo looked behind the couch simultaneously.

"speaking of oblivious" blaise snorted, before he earned himself a slap from mattheo and a simple hand gesture that told him to get off the couch and find another place to plant his arse.

blaise was barely on his feet, emptying the spot next to mattheo, when pansy and you stepped into the common room.

"hey guys" pansy greeted before she let herself fall in between draco and enzo, half onto draco's lap, which the former only grunted at.

you smiled your usual smile, waving at you friends, before you walked around the couch on which mattheo was sitting. you held up the book you were carrying to him and mattheo immediately got into position.

he turned his body, so that his legs were now resting on the couch before him. he opened them up so you could slip between them, laying your head onto his tummy, as you opened your book and got comfortable.

mattheo softly started moving his fingers through your hair. theo, on the armchair on the left of both of you, raised his eyebrows. even draco lowered his newspaper for a second, to inspect your cuddly position.

"so, y/n" theo said "why don't you tell us something about your date with that seventh year ravenclaw?"

now it was mattheo's turn to furrow his brows. theo looked perfectly innocent, but mattheo recognized a hint of mischief in his blue eyes. blaise giggled into his fist like he had just witnissed the biggest burn and enzo looked between both theo and mattheo, wondering if the former was even allowed to ask such a question.

"oh" you smiled awkwardly, as you let your book sink onto your chest. "you mean leslie?"

theo nodded and watched mattheo's expression closely, who's face was full of disdain.

"go on" pansy smiled "you can tell them" she started giggling and you joined her laughter.

it was like a switch had been flipped as both you and pansy recalled the day a week before. you did not leave out one detail, from how the boy had asked you out to how the actual date went.

mattheo was not happy to hear what you had to say (or how pansy couldn't stop mentioning how handsome and attractive leslie was), but he had to admit that it was kind of funny to see theo's face fall more from minute to minute and how much regret was evident on it when you ended the story after half an hour.

it seemed like the only person who enjoyed listening was enzo, who spend most of his time asking about certain things you had said and if you had meant them in a flirting or normal way. mattheo had to admit to himself that it was probably his and the rest of the boys' fault that enzo outstretched the story with his unnecessary questions. it seemed like he wanted to make sure that nothing what happened the day before would repeat itself.

"was that everything you wanted to know?" you asked theo, admittedly a bit amused, as you noticed the panicked look on his face and the quick nod he was giving you.

"why didn't you tell me you had a date?" mattheo asked you and you almost broke your neck as you tried to look at him without sitting up.

"sorry, i didn't think it was that important" you shrugged "and i never thought that you wanted to hear anything about it, but now that i know that you guys are interested in that kind of conversation, we can speak about stuff like that more often"

it was only after pansy and you had excused yourself to go to bed, that there was a debrief happening in mattheo's and theo's room.

mattheo was walking from side to side, as the earlier events replayed themselves in his head.

"pansy and y/n are yappers" blaise noted matter of factly "and now you've actually gotten them to yap even more"

"thank you, theo" draco added sarcastically, while theo just shrugged his shoulders.

"i didn't know it would spiral into that" he excused "i was just trying to get someone to get off of his arse and talk to a certain someone, considering something between the two of them"

"it doesn't help anyone if you're talking in riddles" enzo rolled his eyes, before he got ellbowed by blaise, who pointed at the still walking mattheo. "oh" enzo nodded "you're talking about mattheo and—"

"what kind of name is leslie anyway?" mattheo cried, succesfully shutting enzo up.

"i mean have you seen the guy?" blaise laughed "his name should be the least of your concerns"

"thank you, blaise" mattheo nodded, spotting a sarcastic smile "very helpful actually"

"listen, mate" theo said and all eyes turned to him "i'm not saying you should just be happy about what's happened, but it's a bit your own fault"

"my own fault?" mattheo repeated stunned.

"he's not wrong" draco shrugged "if you had the balls to go and speak to y/n, we wouldn't even be talking about a guy who obviously has a girl's name"

"i mean i get alex, but what is unisex about leslie?" enzo looked between his friends, who all shrugged.

"can we stop mentioning his fucking name, please" mattheo threw up his hands helplessly.

"well, would you rather like to talk about his huge—"

"blaise!" both mattheo and theo called loudly.

blaise raised his arms, spotting a face of innocence "geez, chill i was talking about his arms. i mean the guy is jacked"

"yeah, we get the picture" mattheo rolled his eyes, before he changed the tone of his voice, trying to imitate pansy and you from earlier "he's so good looking and funny and—"

"he's read almost every book y/n has" enzo added and all of the boys looked at him.

"whose side are you on?" theo asked tiredly, rubbing his face and realizing in that second that he was not going to sleep any time soon.

"sorry, pansy's words, not mine"

"okay, well" mattheo exclaimed, his anger subsiding momentarily "what if i'm not that handsome or well-read? i always listen to her talk about her latest book, and i don't just act like i want to hear it, i really do and i could be such a better boyfriend than this lola guy"

"leslie" blaise corrected and immediately received a dirty look from mattheo.

"look, mate" draco interrupted the staring contest between blaise and mattheo. "whatever it is that has been going on between you and y/n, we've all had the pleasure to observe it this past few years. so i'm sure we're all are at a point now where we are just fucking tired. i'm begging you, just do something about this please" draco was more emotional than he had been in years and all his friends were surprised at the sudden concern for mattheo's and y/n's love life "for the love of god, i cannot bear to try and extend any friendly behaviour further than this group, so it would be kind of unfortunate for y/n's boyfriend if he isn't already part of it"

"well, aren't you just a ball of sunshine?" theo rolled his eyes.

"it's not easy being nice to all of you" draco send a side-eye in enzo's direction "even harder with certain people"

"hey!" enzo losely protested.

"i don't really care who she dates at this point" draco added "hell, let's give her blaise, at least he's not too restrained to actually do something"

"i'm not restrained" mattheo said with distain evident in his voice.

blaise smiled smugly, completely ignoring his friend. "i would show y/n a good time"

"what the fuck?!" mattheo turned to blaise with a look of betrayal "i'd rather have lucy--"

"leslie"

"--have her before you do" mattheo finished.

"this is really not the point now is it?" enzo asked, with a helpless look in theo's direction.

"enzo's right, as weird as that sounds" theo nodded "you have to do something and you have to do it fast, before she's losing the least bit of liking she seemingly has for you"

"i really have to thank you guys for your deep and honest trust in me and my abilities"

"well you've practically spend the last six years simping for her, so excuse us if we're not quite seeing the end of that yet" draco snorted.

"yeah, fine, whatever" mattheo rolled his eyes "even though all of you were wrong in many things, you're right about y/n, i'll tell her first thing tomorrow"

"tell her what exactly?"

"ehh, that i'm in love with her" mattheo said as if it was obvious.

"a bit rushed isn't it?" enzo asked, exchanging a look with draco, who seemed just as critical.

"what?" mattheo asked helplessly "wasn't that what you all wanted? i mean lilly certainly didn't waste any time"

"leslie" blaise corrected once again "asked her out on a date first. maybe you could really learn something from him. i hear he's quite smart"

"are you gay?" draco suddenly asked and enzo snorted.

"i'm a realist" blaise answered "i like to scout out the competition, see what they've got on me"

"okay, sure, then i'll ask her on a date and tell her that i love her then. is that alright with you?"

"you should at least wait two to three months" draco advised.

"maybe four" enzo added.

"oh, heaven, i'm going to sleep" theo turned around and climbed into his bed.

the next morning, the slytherin boys were sitting in their usual spots at the slytherin table. there had been no sighting of either pansy or you yet, so mattheo had decided to ask you on a date during breakfast.

"what do you think is taking them so long?" he asked draco, while keeping a close eye to the entryway of the great hall.

draco, who was only a second away from answering, was quickly interrupted, when he got nudged by theo, who pointed at something - or rather someone - at the ravenclaw table.

"what?" mattheo turned his head, after draco had not answered and his friends seemed to have noticed something.

"they're already here" draco said softly, before both of his hands, landed on mattheo's shoulders, turning the boy's body in the right direction.

mattheo's eyes found you quickly. you were sitting next to an unfamiliar boy, pansy across from the both of you. you were engaged in a seemingly friendly conversation, throwing your head back laughing from time to time.

"lydia" mattheo said between clenched teeth his voice close to a growl.

"leslie" blaise corrected, matching the sound and tone of mattheo's voice.

mattheo stood up abruptly and all eyes followed him. "i'm gonna do something about this" he declared, before he started walking into the direction of the ravenclaw table.

"i think he could need some backup" blaise shrugged his shoulders, running after the boy, before one of the others could protest.

"hey" mattheo greeted when he arrived at the table. pansy furrowed her brows, but you smiled when your eyes fell on him, not noticing the angry tone in his voice.

"hey" leslie smiled. "mattheo, is it?"

"sure" mattheo sat down on the bench next to pansy without so much as another word.

"so, luna" mattheo began.

"ehh, my name is leslie actually" the older boy corrected.

"whatever" mattheo rolled his eyes "nobody cares about that"

"i do" blaise quickly corrected, coming to a halt behind mattheo and outstretching his hand in leslie's direction "blaise zabini, big fan. what kind of book would you recommend to get girls?"

"i'm not sure i understand that question" leslie looked to you in confusion, but you just shook your head. "but, uh many girls like pride and prejudice by jane austen"

"ignore him" mattheo advised "you seem like you have everything in order, so i think it's the right time to ask what your intentions with y/n are"

"excuse me?" leslie asked stunned, while pansy snorted loudly. blaise nodded approvingly and you had your mouth and eyes wide open, not believing what you had just heard.

"well, young man" mattheo patted leslie's shoulder "we've all been your age once, so i don't think the question is too farfetched"

"i'm actually older than you" the ravenclaw looked to you helpingly "sorry, is he your brother or something?"

various different answers of no echoed around the table, followed by disgusted noises as pansy, mattheo, blaise and you answered the question at the same time.

"then why are you even asking that question?"

"well, lane" mattheo started, before he quickly added (successfully preventing someone to correct him) "y/n doesn't have a brother and her father is not here right now, so someone has to look out for her, right?"

"pretty sexist" pansy remarked "these aren't the 1800's, riddle"

mattheo shot pansy a quick glare before refocusing on leslie, determined to make his point. "look, i'm just trying to make sure you're treating her right," he stated, with an edge of jealousy in his voice.

leslie glanced at you, clearly bewildered. "i promise, y/n and i are just friends. we were talking about our shared interest in ancient runes."

"sure, just friends" blaise mumbled so only mattheo could hear.

"shared interest, huh?" mattheo leaned back, trying to appear nonchalant but failing miserably. "is that what you call it these days?"

you couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation. "mattheo, relax. leslie's just being friendly."

blaise, sensing the awkward tension, decided to stir the pot a bit more. "yeah, mattheo, maybe you should take some lessons from leslie on how to charm a girl with ancient runes. it's clearly working."

mattheo shot blaise a look that could melt steel. "blaise, could you stop being helpful for once?"

blaise, feigning innocence, raised his arms.

mattheo, deciding he had seen enough, concluded it was time to pull out the big guns. "so have you kissed yet? because i have done that. kissed y/n i mean, not kissed someone in general"

"matty!" you scolded, feeling embarassed by his behaviour.

"no, we haven't actually" leslie shook his head, uncomfortably looking between the people around him.

"well, we've done a lot of things" mattheo continued, easily slipping back into the familiar cockiness he normally wore with pride, even if you had hit his leg under the table more than a few times already. "you should ask her about her first time" he muttered, winking at the older boy.

pansy, who had been drinking, accidentally spit some of her pumpkin juice on her plate and blaise's mouth was wide open.

"mattheo" you shrieked, quickly stubbling onto your feet "could i talk to you for a second? alone"

"whatever you want, love" mattheo winked at leslie once again, before he followed you out of the hall.

"so about ancient runes"

outside of the great hall, mattheo was standing across from you, head down, while you were ripping him a new one.

"what has gotten into you, matty?" you asked when you had finished screaming at him.

"i'm sorry" mattheo said truthfully "i had this great plan of asking you out this morning, but seeing you with him made me so jealous and realize that it's probably too late anyway, but it's my own fault."

"what are you even talking about?" you asked confused.

"i mean you're obviously going on a second date, right?" mattheo asked "you very clearly said how charming and handsome and smart he was"

"that's true, he is all of those things"

"cool" mattheo nodded and you swore you could see a hint of sadness in his eyes "i'm happy for you then"

"yeah seems like it" you giggled, before you shook your head "well, matty you knows, leslie is amazing--"

"i've never heard anyone been complimented so much than i have heard him in the last twenty hours"

"let me finish" you smiled "he's really great, but i'm not interested in him like that"

"you're not?"

you shook your head "i think we could become good friends, but nothing more"

"but why were you sitting with him then?"

"well, he had a book he wanted to lend me" you shrugged "and i was actually on my way back to our table when you interrupted"

"oh"

"yeah, oh" you smiled "if i had known you would take all of this so harshly, i would've told you about me telling leslie i'm not interested yesterday"

"okay, that's embarrassing" mattheo admitted "i should've spoken to you in private, before i made such a scene"

"yeah, you should have" you nodded. "so, are you going to ask me out?"

mattheo grinned at you, before he grabbed your hip, pulling you closer with one fast gesture, connecting your lips.

you pulled him close by the hem of his shirt. your fingers curling into the fabric as you deepened the kiss. his hand slid from your hip to the small of your back, pressing you firmly against him. The world around you seemed to blur, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his lips on yours, the warmth of his body against yours.

his other hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. the kiss was both passionate and tender, a perfect blend of his usual confidence and a softer side he reserved just for you. you could feel the intensity of his feelings, the months—years, even—of pent-up emotions pouring out in this single, breathtaking moment.

your heart pounded in your chest, and you could feel his racing too. it was as if all the teasing, all the uncertainty, had culminated in this moment. his lips were soft yet demanding, and you responded eagerly, your fingers now moving to tangle in his hair.

you both were breathless when you broke the kiss, heavy breathing quickly turning into laughing about how both of you had acted like idiots.

"we should get pansy and blaise and return to the others, right?" you asked and mattheo nodded eagerly.

"but you'll go out with me, yeah?"

"i think we're already past that" you joked, hinting at the years of longing gazes and physical affection between the both of you. "but sure"

you walked back into the hall holding hands, while blaise and pansy were already waiting for you.

"what happened to layla?" mattheo asked, trying to catch sight of the boy on the ravenclaw table.

"leslie—"

"—left, after blaise had gone a bit too far, asking for flirting advice"

"oh god" you hid your face in your hand "i can take you guys nowhere"

"well, you've got enough friends already, haven't you?" mattheo nudged your shoulder, as pansy's eyes fell on your connected hands.

"took you long enough" she smiled, before all of you walked into the direction of the slytherin table.

as you approached, the group noticed your intertwined hands. draco, theo, and enzo exchanged knowing glances.

"finally," theo remarked, leaning back in his seat. "i was starting to think you'd never figure it out“

draco smirked, lowering his newspaper. "i suppose this means i don’t have to pretend to be friendly to more people than absolutely necessary now"

"i think we're all just relieved we don’t have to hear more about leslie and his 'charms'" enzo grinned.

"speaking of which," draco said, looking at you and mattheo, "how did that go?"

"oh, you know“ you replied with a smirk "mattheo decided to mark his territory in the most subtle way possible“

"well, at least he's more direct than other people" theo almost giggled "i just have to imagine enzo recalling and telling holly anything he could remember from our flying classes"

"i'm sorry that i genuinely thought she wanted to know that"

"when these two can get it together, you'll get there too some day" pansy nudged enzo's shoulder and the boy send her a grateful smile.

"who needs enemies when you have friends like this" mattheo laughed with a roll of his eyes.

blaise chuckled, leaning back in his chair. " hey, at least we keep each other entertained"

enzo grinned, shooting a playful glare at blaise. "yeah, and who else would i have to embarrass myself in front of if not for you lot?"

draco raised an eyebrow at that "well, enzo, it's a good thing you have us to keep you humble“

theo nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "exactly. otherwise, you might start thinking you're actually good at flying"

"now this is just unfair, you're telling me she was not only flirting, but lying too?" enzo exclaimed frustrated.

"you can't always have everything" blaise shrugged, taking a look at the vacant spot leslie had left at the ravenclaw table "at least that way there are still girls left for the rest of us"

"you do realize that y/n is not really left anymore, right?" theo ellbowed the other boy.

"well, y/n" blaise smirked "i'm sure mattheo has never even seen a copy of jane austens pride and prejudice, but guess who read it, you're right this lovely—"

"oh hell no" mattheo quickly shook his head, as he clasped a hand over blaise's mouth. "don't you even start, bethany"

[hidtired]

Love Burns

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: Some way somehow you crawled your way back from death. All to get back into the arms of one man. Daryl and the rest of the group were taking your death hard, your death was gruesome. So your disheveled arrival back to them was unfathomable… (Duel POVs)

6.1k words

Fall felt like winter. In a place made of concrete it was decided something needed to be done before winter truly came. The prison still needed a lot of work but with the new people of Woodbury things were getting done a lot faster. Only thing lacking was supplies. So a team was round up to go to a near hardware warehouse. Glenn, Maggie, Rick, Daryl, You, Carol, Sasha, Tyrese, and a few Ex Woodbury people headed out for as much as they all could carry. It was Hershel who suggested that this was dire because someone could get sick and that was supplies we just couldn’t spare. So… this wasn’t all for nothing. This run was the greater good for the prison. Even if it all went wrong by dusk. Even if it cost your life.

Almost all the cars had been full of things. It was decided to send a few of the new people back to empty their trucks and comeback. The chill was numbing everyone’s hands as they moved things back and forth. A fire was started inside the chain link fence. The U haul parked close to it to blocked the wind. Daryl had taken his bike, the psycho. But you had to admit the leather jacket he now wore looked good on him. You and Daryl, still no label but something was there. If the time spent cuddling him every chance you got inside the cellblock said anything. Always using the excuse you were cold, which wasn’t wrong. You’ve both kissed but that had happened only a few times. The only reason you had both gotten so close was the time spent after the farm fell.

It was decided in your mind after this run you would put all your card on the table. So while you were in the warehouse grabbing future farm tools Daryl walked past you making you turn and speak, “Hey, wanna share what little whiskey I have left when we get back.” Daryl turned a small smirk barely noticeably, he grunted before speaking, “Bring out booze? Must be a special occasion.” You glance away then back to him, gathering courage, “Just thought maybe it was about time we talked.” You smiled and walked past him with your head held high mimicking confidence. Little did you know you made the hair on the back of his neck stand and his heart beat just that much faster.

Finally dusk was fast approaching and everyone was gathered around the fire discussing before getting ready to leave. You sat staring into the fire half listening to the chatter of everyone. You had your arms around yourself trying to stop the wind. You were playing out things in your mind to say to Daryl. Trying to develop a way to get your feelings across. Strange how things escalate to life or death. Your peaceful gaze into the now hot coals was interrupted with sounds of gun shots drowned with screams and sounds of the dead marching. It was damn unlucky to have had two herds merge into each other at the warehouse. It was frantic but quick. You had been left to put of the fires. You had waited by the last smoldering one to beat the cold before all of you departed. When the gun fire and screams started you hadn’t thought to look behind you with all the action in front of you.

You heard a thunk before you felt something fall on top of you pulling you to the ground by your legs. You kicked and thrashed killing the walker that snuck up on you. However you noticed a wave of walkers now pulled down a part of the fence with their eyes dead set on you. A few slipping out of through holes in the fence. You unhooked your side arm from its place on your thigh. Pulling the knife you apparently stuck into the walker that jumped you. You look all around you trying to navigate options. But the situation that had originally got your attention also seemed to escalate with another wave of walkers come from every direction. That’s when your awareness made you freeze all together. A pain to your side close to your back. Lifting the layers of your cloths a mark of teeth bleed.

You had been bite.

Ice filled your veins, fear. Your grip tightened on your weapons. You stare as walkers closed the distance. Your name rung in your ears. Daryl scream for your attention, you slowly turned to him. He was a distance away behind a fence with others who seemed to escape the first wave they’d met. Even if you hadn’t been bite to may blocked your way to run into any means of safety. Daryl waved his hands trying beckon you to run to him. He looked like he was going to jump the already bending fence to get to you. Other faces you recognized to be the family you had found yelling in panic along with Daryl’s. You slowly pulled your shirt turning to them. Blood ran down dripping into your pants from the deathly injury. Others seeming to realize what had happened.

“NOOOOOOO!”

The pained yell Daryl had ripped out from himself being followed by the snapping fence falling to the pressure of the herd. Daryl still stood even with the danger coming to him, Rick clearly holding him back with Glenn running over to help drag him away. You smiled at Daryl some tears running down your face, probably the last Daryl will see it as his face disappeared from your sight. You turned around to the herd closer to you. A few walkers had gotten closer to you than you thought. This was your last stand. You fired gunshot after gunshot while managing to kill some with your knife. You tripped on one of the bodys you had put down. You fell expecting to quickly get back up and continue your count down to death bringing any dead bastard with you. But a flare of unexpected pain at your landing made a blood curdling scream vibrate into the air. You had landed into the fire pit. Hot coals with little flame burning you. Ambers exploding around you with your fall. Your open wound on your side sizzles adding more pain to the specific area. You instinctively jumped up away from the pit. Groaning while you forced yourself to stand vision blurred and legs wobbling.

It’s funny… to know you’re about to die. You could never imagine the things to go through your mind until it happens. Your past didn’t flash before your eyes. More thoughts of the future. How will people take your death? Maybe If this didn’t happen then how would you fit into there future. What if you had that drink with Daryl… That pushed you to now. Right now. You woke up. Groggy cold and numb. The smell of death strong. You weren’t sure if maybe you were a walker maybe it was all a dream.

The haze lifted with a spike of your adrenaline as your eyes focus. A walker close to your face with your knife jammed into its head. A gasp filled your lungs, you weren’t dead? You were lying on your stomach under the U haul nearly freezing. The body of walkers all around you seemed to be your insulation. You take in the scene around you, then you do the only logical thing, cry. A sob ripped from you, tears streaming down your now dirt covered face that was laying in the dirt. You were scared, in pain, and alone. It seemed like the only thing you could really do and have the mind to do. In the small gaps that walkers didn’t cover a slight glow came. You pushed through the body’s crawling between them until fresh air hit you. Dark gray clouds hung above you.

The night had passed while you were under the truck. You caught sight of the littered bodys around the area. It was quiet. Not a soul or other wise empty vessel around. You attempted to stand but fell when you became light headed and unbalanced. Another attempt had lead you slowly to your feet. You were covered in dirt. You could only think you were rolling around in it while keeping walkers away from you under the car. The longer you were awake the more you came back to yourself. A hand slowly moved to your forehead. You were cold but shouldn’t you have a fever by now? At the thought you moved some of the fabric from your bite only stopping when your cloths were singed to your body. Were the bite was now was left with a deep embedded scorch marks. Coals had seemed to burned you up to your shoulder and down to your hip on you left side.

The sight of it made you gag but you couldn’t feel a thing from it. The burns must have destroyed the nerves. If the infection of being bite wasn’t going to kill you the infection sure to come from this wound would. A flare of life filled you. A broken chuckle passed your lips filling the dead silence. You need Hershel badly and soon if you wanted a chance to live. A chance was better than what you had thought. You slowly turn around to the U hale in hopes you could drive it back but the tires were blown and a rainbow like liquid had formed a puddle. You probably shot at walkers while under there damaging the car. Like damaging the gas tank and somehow not exploding so you’ll take that win. No that meant you just had to walk several miles back to the prison. Suddenly you remembered you weren’t bond to the roads so maybe you were closer then you thought.

So you took off north into the woods, hopeful and better yet alive.

Daryl POV

Of course nothing ever goes smoothly and this damn run was no exception. It was so close, they were all packed and ready to go. A herd coming didn’t seem like a big deal just alerting them there was no time to dilly dally. So after killing a few and saving people who got surprised by it they stood behind a chain fences that wasn’t going to hold for long the more that pushed against it. Daryl’s eyes flickered to everyone behind the fence. Panic now felt when his eyes didn’t meet yours. He turned back around frantically until he say you standing facing what looked to be another herd. His eyes widened and your name was flying out of his mouth before he even knew he was doing it. You just stood there, not even in a defensive posture, just casually. Your head turned to meet his after hearing him.

Tears ran down your face but your face remained to looked shocked. Maybe you froze in panic so he gestured for you to come quickly but you didn’t move. Soon others joined in calling for you. But when you moved and lifted your shirt he felt like he was sinking. Blood dripped down your side and teeth were imprinted in your skin. His eyes flicked back up to yours to see you smiling at him. He was screaming and moving without a thought.

“NOOOOOOOO!”

A hand grabbed his shirt and then the fence in front of them fell. He still tried moving forward even then but other sets of hands now pulled him backwards. He grunted and gasped still looking at you as he was moved away. The smile on your face directed at him. The look in your eyes saying so many words that he didn’t have the time to decipher in the moment. He didn’t know the words coming from his mouth but he was yelling. For whoever holding him to let him help you in curses and cry’s. When he lost sight of you is when he faltered. More people seemed to be dragging him now. A gunshot went off making him jump in his skin along with the others around him. Sound now processing in his ears. Maggie sobbing along with muffled crying from others.

Everyone had assumed that gunshot was you giving yourself mercy. Then more came making him start dragging his heels again. You were fighting, you were bring some of the herd on them back to you. He was going to fight to get to you. But he froze along with the people clawing him backwards. You were screaming. No you were dying and they all were hearing it. It was guttural and sudden like you were surprised. He was yelling in tears now, “NOOO PLEASE-“ his words jumping starting people again to pull him away. Your pained cries fading when he was pulled into a car. Tyrese was the one locking him in place. Rick driving with Michonne in the passenger side leaning over like she was going to be sick.

Daryl was now desperate to grab air in his lungs as has he went limp in Tyrese grasp. His gasps filled with the now humming engine felt like he was spiraling. Sounds muffled and thoughts racing. ‘Just thought maybe it was about time we talked.’ The feeling from the words originally was like butterflies, now it was hornets. You always wiggled your away into his arms. Excuses of ‘it’s cold.’ or ‘But you’re always so warm.’ He knew for some reason you had taken interest in him. You had lit some dumb teenage feeling in him. Thoughts of you always crossing his mind throughout the day. Hopes of you trying to make your way into his space later in the day. The first time you fell asleep on him was when you crawled in his lap during watch and shivered endlessly while he held you. He continued to watch gaze flickering through trees while holding you and he knew deep down he was screwed.

The fear that kept him away and doubting had come true. He watched trees go by through the window in silence. Tyrese still holding him as he was lying across the seats. Like he would jump out the moving vehicle if given the chance. Even though he didn’t act on his feeling he had still loved you. He felt cold inside. The cold that would have drawn you to him. He will never hold you to him again. His hands trembled to his face and covered his eyes. Your screams echoing in his mind, your sad loving smile played into his mind. His palms dug into his eyes and he cried. His tears breaking seemed to trigger those around him. He heard Rick holding his breath as he sniffled. Michonne would occasionally suck in a gasp. Tyrese trembled with sighs and coughs trying to break the growing ball in his throat.

Eventually making it back to the prison Carl swung the gate open happily for two cars and Carol riding on Daryl’s bike. The unsuspecting grief hadn’t reached the prison but when they got out of the cars it was felt in waves. They were still seemed lost in thoughts, or lost in a moment. Carl looked on to his father who held is head down and hands on his hips. Maggie making her way to her father and cried silently when he hugged her with Glenn close by eyebrows furrowed in pain. When looking at Daryl it was clear to who they lost. He was stock still and pale, in shock. Hershel practically herded them into the cell block. Carol tried to come near him while walking there but he just shock his head and pushed past her.

They sat in silence sitting at the tables they had their breakfast just this morning. Daryl leaned on the wall keeping his distance. Rick was standing and looking on to everyone hunched in to themselves. Judith in his arms was probably the only reason Daryl didn’t go into a berserk rage. Though when Rick started retelling what had happened to the other that weren’t there he was gettin close to it. Nails digging into his palms and teeth clenched he still listened.

“Y/n’s gone… We were just about ready to go when a herd spooked us.” Rick sighed now looking to everyone’s face. “We had gotten behind a fence and Y/N was putting fires out…” Beth had clear tears now growing in her eyes as she listened. “We think a separate herd flanked us but we were so busy with the first to notice. She was across from us with a herd closing in from behind and in front of her. She could have possibly made it… if-“ he cleared is throat starting again. “If she didn’t lift her shirt showing us she was already doomed. I don’t know when or how, but she was bite.” Rick paused then chuckled wetly, “She had to go out being a badass, could hear it in my mind ‘Was it cool at least?’ Always theatrics with that one.” The thought bubbles in Daryl’s stomach, ‘she always said if she was ever going out it was in a blaze of glory, nothing “lame”.’ Daryl leaned forward off the wall moving to pass by everyone. Everyone had stilled at his movement but he just walked into the cell block.

He needed a minute, to cope, scream, cry, yell, he didn’t know but he felt like he was dying. He found his way up the stairs and pushing past the stupid Dino sheets you chose for your room. ‘They’re not ugly! We have a lot more in common with are extinct friends now. Though I would have preferred a meteor…’ He stared at everything that had been left where you had it. He stumbled to sit on the edge of your bed looking around. You had so many weird thing… you were so weird. A now deflated happy birthday ballon he remembered you yelling, ‘JACKPOT’ when you found it scavenging. Then his eyes locked onto a bottle of whiskey. It was not even half full but when he saw it tears started falling quietly. He picked it up and held it to his chest.

“Just thought maybe it was about time we talked.” That sentence would haunt him forever.

Your POV

You groaned like the dead as you made your way through the woods. Speaking of the dead they didn’t much notice you. That had made you spiral in the whole am I really a walker?! But then you remember you were covered in dirt and blood and walking like you had a few to many. You were starting to feel warm putting you into a cold sweat. It was hard to not think that maybe the bite was still going to kill you. You had burnt it with the rest of your back to hell. You probably look like you crawled out from hell. The thought made you dazily laugh out loud. Ok so maybe you were delirious. If that manic laugh that bubbled from you wasn’t any indication. You weren’t thinking straight. Only moving in the direction you think is to the prison? God you could go for some pasta right about now, Olive Garden salad and bread sticks… damn. Little mint at the end. You trip out of your thoughts slamming into the forest floor with a groan.

It had snapped you back into a clearer head space. Your vision swam a little but you started to push yourself back up. So turns out your near death thoughts weren’t as epic as you thought they were going to be, just bread sticks and mints. You sighed looking around trying to gain your bearings. You could hear some water to your right meaning you were indeed going the right way. Just 20 more minutes and you were back to the prison. You wonder if you could have had a dinner date with Daryl. I suppose you still could if you didn’t die. The poor man had tried running into a herd for you. You were getting more unbalanced as you walked leaning from tree to tree. Wood splitting and jamming into your hands, only adding to a list of injures. The worst part was you didn’t feel much of anything pain wise. The cold numbed you and your lack of cognitive ability was no better help.

The stream broke off flowing into the direction of the prison. You saw the bridge that held the water pump before the prison. You somehow managed to get back here. The prison was still quieter than normal. You could see closer to the gate a few people were clearing walkers, vision to bleary to know who. A thunk sounded coming into the middle of the inclosed clearing. Rick was cutting wood with Carl moving logs for him to cut. Slowly making your way to the fence you didn’t realize your throat was so scratchy, nothing but a huff of air coming out. That’s right, you had been screaming…. and crying. You lean into the fence hands intertwined with the cool dewy metal.

A walker was pushed against the fence to your right staring to Rick and Carl too. You slowly push down to the floor grabbing a stick. You pushed back up using the fence to walk closer to the walker. Taking a deep breath you kicked the back of the walkers legs making it fall to its knees. The walker grumbled in shock or protest but it was silence with the stick shoved in its eyes. The constant noise of the walker was acknowledged by the Grimes so when it abruptly stopped they looked over to where it was. You were leaning into the side of the fence as you heard feet approaching, “Who are- Holy shit!” You heard them running and the sound got farther from you. The heavy gate door grunted open and the running sound came back toward you. You tried moving along the fence, tripping yet again on the walker, this time only to your knees.

A shadow fell over you causing you to look up seeing Rick kneeling in front of you, hands moving to pull you up. Your adrenaline was dropping now that the task you set for yourself was complete. The fall made your head swim, voices now muffled as blood pulled into your head. You saw Rick talking but didn’t comprehend anything he said. He soon pointed at Carl and your eyes moved over to the boy. Walkers had made their way out of the woods at the commotion. You suddenly were being jostled now. Rick had put an arm to the back of your shoulders and his other arm to the back of your knees and lifted you into him. You were slightly over Rick’s shoulder as he quickly moved. Then you realized what Rick was yelling.

“HERSHEL! HERSHEL! HERSHEL!”

That was right, you wanted Hershel to help you… help you? What for again? Your mind clicked as you watched the door of the gate close behind you. Some faces now appeared as Rick continued to carry while trying not to dig his hands into your injury. You had been injured, right. Some looks you caught while over Rick shoulder was nothing you’ve seen direct at yourself. The group formed shuffling to the gate to get into the court yard. You recognized Maggie gasping and her saying, “Oh my god is she alive?! H-how?” You rumbled out a deep noise. “Cause I’m a badass.” You were becoming slack and your vision was blurring. You were trying to remain awake. Maybe for the face you so desperately wanted to see, and the other part of you was afraid you wouldn’t wake back up. But at last you involuntarily relaxed as you heard him, “Y/N!” His voice was pained and dry, but it sent a smile to your face before you went still as Rick continued moving you.

Daryl POV

He fell asleep in your bed. Selfishly taking in what little smell was left of your space. The whiskey bottle was held to his chest untouched. He kept waking up ever hour. He felt wrong like something was missing. His body knew that you weren’t with him and it made him restless. He would think about your screams feeling like he still heard them. He would play back random moments with you. He just couldn’t seem to move. Stuck laying down holding the bottle you both were going to share, stuck going in and out of consciousness. He was depressed he realized. It was the norm for his sadness to spark rage but he just felt defeated. With Merle he got angry, upset even. But he could still move. His world was still moving then but now he wasn’t sure how it kept spinning with you gone.

Everyone was already moving through the day doing tasks that needed to be completed. He heard the shuffles and whispers of his friends- his family. He would hear someone’s breath hitch while talking about you. He was left alone with Glenn being the one saying, “Leave the man alone.” With other things like, ‘when Lori died-‘ or, ‘if it had been Maggie I’d be the same.’ He would thank the man on another day. So here he is still, morning coming to pass, in your bed staring at the ceiling. He tried to not think about how you might be a walker wondering or even worse your body was still there. He would have to push himself up to that. But the silence around the prison seemed to have broke.

The heavy door that lead in from out doors slammed opened and a panicked Maggie nervously yelled for her father. “D-Daddy somethings wrong Rick’s yelling for you!” Daryl’s hearing perked up feeling the pit in his stomach drop further. Dread seeping into him, ‘Another bad thing was happening.’ He heard the clicking of Hershel’s crutch’s as he moved through the door that Maggie’s had burst through. Daryl squeezed his eyes shut before sucking in a breath in and huffing it out. He got up.

He got to his feet moving down the stairs buzzing with adrenaline. Not sure if he was going to have to protect people or kill someone. As Daryl pushed through the metal door to the court yard an icy wind blew through him. The hair on the back of his neck stood. He turned over to the commotion gathering by the gate to the yard. Scanning the area he didn’t see danger so he made his way over to the group. “Oh my god is she alive?! H-how?” Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed as he got closer over hearing people now.

“Cause I’m a badass.”

Although the voice was deep and scratchy he froze at the familiar voice. He only paused for a moment before he started running the rest of the way there, “Y/N!” His voice was slightly harsh with dis use and the ball of tension in his throat didn’t help much either. You were being held up in a weird way by Rick but you sluggish turned drooping slightly as you did. When your eyes met you smiled but it slowly fell as you went slack. Rick was moving again with the demands of Hershel yelling orders to Carol and Maggie to gather things. Daryl saw your cloths, burnt holes and black and red covered you. Your skin stuck sticking to fabric as deep char marks riddled your back and side. He was speechless as the group passed him but he still followed. Maybe he fell asleep again and was dreaming all this.

“I need disinfectant and a bucket of clean water!”

Rick had set you down on your stomach in an unused cell. Your arm dangled over edge swaying. He stood the watching in shock. People were scrambling around him. He didn’t realize he had gotten the bottle still in his hands before he looked down and walked over practically shoving it into the man’s arms. Daryl was wide eyed as he watched your still form, “Daryl I need you to cut off her clothes. Be careful of her shirt.” A hand clasped to his shoulder finally clicking everything into place. His hand had moved for his knife and he slowly cut down right side on a seam. He slowly plead the shirt from you. It would stick then tug and pull off of you making him cringe. Hershel started talking again as Daryl moved to pull down your jeans.

“You said she was bite?” Daryl let your pants fall to the floor as he looked back up to the side he had seen it. Your entire side was indented and black. Some black circles were higher up to your shoulders as your enter left side seemed to have taken most of the burns. He pointed to were he had last saw the bite. “It was here- shit she fell into the fire pit.” The screams he heard played back into his mind. The pain and surprise that had ripped from you. Hershel now with a cloth and water started cleaning the area removing the grim, “That means she might have stopped the spread of the infection with how deep these burns are.” Hershel paused looking over her body. He then put a hand to your forehead, “She’s warm but not feverish…” Hershel grabbed the bottle of whiskey again turning to Daryl and popping the lid of,

“Get out of here Daryl. Maggie! Carol! I need hands!”

He watched as the two girls push past him and before he was out of sight from you saw Hershel dump some of the alcohol onto the area. He stepped out turning to see worried and confused faces. They stared at him silently with the background noise of Hershel making demands of his helpers. Sasha almost whispered her question to him, "How is she still alive?" Everyone turned to her before looking at him expectantly as the wondered the same. Daryl looked like he was visibly thinking before he sighed, "I don't know. She fell in the fireplace is all I know." Rick looked to the floor nodding thinking back to when he first saw you and struggled to pick you up around what looked to be burns. Daryl spoke again almost hopefully, "Hershel thinks there's a chance she stop the infection from spreading with how deep the burns are."

Hopeful gasps filled the air. Carl was the next to speak almost as a demand, "Then we going to use all are medical supplies we've got if there is a chance." Rick whispered, "Carl..." but Beth jumped in. "W-we have it for reasons like these! I know she is technically bite but we have no clue if she stopped it, its worth splurging to see if this could save others!" Rick looked surprised at the outburst mouth opening about to speak before Glenn jumped in also pleading to him, "Well find more!" Other silently agreeing and nodding. Daryl looked between the group so determined about your life smirking at it even but, he knew what Rick was trying to say. Sure enough the man had chuckled shacking his head, "Why are you all looking at me for, I'm not the leader anymore. This is a matter for the council. But I think that decision has already been made." It had only started not to long ago with Rick being the stand in while everyone settled on who the council consisted of. Michonne clapped her hands together, "Right is has been settled then, what ever cost to keep her alive." It was a waiting game now.

Days pass with the prison fueled with a hope. The once depressive air had lifted once Hershel declared you stable and with no fever. It was determined until a day later with still no fever you were not infected. The only problem now way you had yet to wake up. The girls had cleaned you of all the caked on dirt from your skin and hair they best they could with you unconscious and your injury. Daryl with any of his free time was by your side. He even took to sleeping in the bunk above you. He changed your bandage most of the time. You were on the your third IV by the 5th day. Daryl had a chair pulled by your side as he fiddled with his crossbow and bolts, your steady breathing having a calming effect on him. The breathing pattern faltered for a second making him look up to you. He stared for a moment before you seemed to grunt in pain. The hair was rising on the back of his neck. Hazy eyes open and your cuffed hand attempted to move but was halted by it be attached to the metal bed frame in the wall.

Daryl felt his heart race as he watched you slowly and groggily start moving. He reached to stopping your hand from moving with his own. "Hey, stay down." You groaned pain probably hitting you finally making Daryl call for Hershal. The clicking of crutch’s came closer but he looked back down to you at your sudden silence. Your eyes met with his and in that moment you saw straight into his soul making him feel exposed. All his nerves seemed to stand on end with your quiet gaze. A small smile creeping it way on your face. Daryl leaned down moving some hair from your face as you remained on your stomach. When he was crouched closer to you he whispered, “Hey darlin’…” You huffed out air and a tear ran down your cheek. He was smiling down at you feeling the weight of deaths grip finally releasing you back to him.

Hershel broke the moment but he never stopped holding your hand as the older man fussed over you. Your voice was rough to say the least. He winched at your first attempt at using it. “iM aLivE…?” Daryl squeezed your hand and the ball in his throat suck to his chest as he let out a chuckle. You seemed just as surprised of the fact just like them. You hissed before flinching forcibly relaxing your muscles but you still spoke again, “tHe BiTe?” Hershel had moved injecting something in your IV bag, pain killers hopefully. Your eyes barely following the movement as Hershel spoke calmly with a smile, “You’ve been out for a few days. No fever. We are working on the burns because they are festering but blistering. You killed the infection.” Your eyes squeezed shut and you sniffled a little tears poured from your eyes in relief. Daryl couldn’t help for his eyes to blur a little to. A hand fell to his shoulder, Hershel. “Her blood pressure is still low so keep her lying down. Try and fed her something small for now until she is up right.”

With that he hobbled away probably going to spread the good news that you are up. His attention snapped back to you when he heard a faint whisper of his name, “daryl.” You had a dopey grin as you stare up at him making the knotted ball in his stomach loosen. You smile falter and a harsh sounding, “woOaH-“ your eyes blinking like your vision got blurry. He intertwined his fingers behind yours as he keyed open the cuffs. “goDdaMn…. HaRdcorE dRugS hEllo~” Daryl chuckled seeing you sag in relief. Your eyes moved to something behind him a long, “hEeeY…” your lips pouting. He turned around questioningly at what you were staring at. The bottle of now empty whiskey, aah. He turned back to you running his free hand into your hair, “Don’t look at me I didn’t drink it.” You stare at the bottle softly saying, “How wiLl I woe a DiXon nOw?”

Daryl sighs feeling that ever burning in his chest when it comes to you. “Don’t think you need to worry to much about that, think he is beyond woed.” You dawn a familiar smirk he knows means trouble. ‘Mmm’ vibrates from your chest, “Good… been really laying it on thick as of late. Hell crawled back from death for the guy.” Your voice seemed to not rattle in your hushed tone. You seemed to struggle to keep your eyes open and focus you spoke once more before closing your eyes and falling to drugs and exhaustion, “So much for not using the med supply like Hershel said…”

Love burns with either the loss of them or the fact they exist in the first place, but you would say the fireplace hurt a tad bit more than loving your gruff hunter.

Feedback welcome and requests open!

[angelsuecult]

gold dust woman | s. crosby

“and is it over now, do you know how?

pick up the pieces and go home”

warnings: sexual content, implied (f) masturbation, thigh-riding, MDNI, 18+, nsfw, strong language, controversial? age gap, father’s friend, infidelity

summary: Sid has a nice encounter with a daughter (22) who’s existence he hadn’t know about, your father, a childhood friend who hes only just reconnected with.

request description: age gap sid, immediate strong tension, meeting sidney for the first time.

wordcount: 6.9k

song: gold dust woman - fleetwood mac

a/n: hi guys i hope you enjoy this request i tried to do it justice so if u requested it, don't hesitate to let me know how i did. anyways i really enjoyed writing this one so i hope you guys enjoy reading it too. i'm currently planning on releasing two more soon maybe tonight maybe tomorrow so i hope you guys will like those too! okay, enjoy reading!

___

Sidney hadn’t seen your dad in what felt like forever, one of those people he’d lost touch with as life and hockey pulled him in different directions. So, when the invite came through for a summer get-together, it felt like the perfect opportunity to reconnect. He’d been looking forward to catching up with some old friends, but nothing could’ve prepared him for what greeted him when the door swung open.

He wasn’t sure who he expected to open the door, but it definitely wasn’t you.

The moment you opened the door, he was caught off guard. He’d expected someone, but not you. Not someone who looked like that-who carried that kind of presence, the kind that immediately knocked the air out of him.

Standing there, framed by the soft summer sunlight, you looked like you didn’t belong to this world. He took you in all at once, a tidal wave of feeling that knocked the air out of his chest. You were–Jesus, you were stunning. Maybe it was your pretty face, the soft curve of your lips, or the way your half-lidded eyes lazily flicked up to meet his with the kind of confidence that left him instantly, completely whipped. His gaze trailed down, unable to stop itself from following the smooth lines of your body, your legs impossibly long in those fitted jeans that hugged you just right as if they'd been made specifically for you, and that small t-shirt that barely covered the soft lines of your waist. But what did him in, what completely took over his brain for a solid few seconds, were your hands. They rested at your sides, fingers delicate and perfect, the kind of hands that could bring a man to his knees if you wanted. His mind ran wild thinking about what they'd feel like against his skin before he could even stop himself. He tried not to stare, tried to keep it casual. But the way your lips curled slightly as you took him in made his heart skip a beat or two.

It was like you had walked straight out of a dream he didn't know he had.

The moment stretched between you both, thick and charged, until you spoke first, your voice low and teasing, like you knew exactly what he was thinking. It took everything in Sidney not to close the distance between you.

“Hey, you must be Sidney,” you said, stepping back to let him in, your gaze never leaving his. There was something in the way you looked at him, something that had his pulse jumping in his throat. It was too much. Too soon. He hardly knew you, yet he wanted you in a way that felt raw, primal. But he forced himself to keep his cool, to not let it show just how much you were already affecting him.

Your voice. God, it did something to him–a soft, smoky tone that hit his ears like honey. Sidney cleared his throat, feeling suddenly out of his element.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he replied, his voice somehow steady, though his heart was anything but. He walked inside, giving you a smile that he hoped looked casual, but when his eyes met yours again, it was anything but. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the way his gaze roamed over you again, slower this time, dragging over every inch of your body. “Guess your dad hasn’t told me much about you,” he said, a lazy attempt at teasing, but it felt stiff.

You closed the door behind him, turning smoothly, effortlessly, like you were made for it, made for moving in a way that left him unable to focus on anything but you. Sidney had never been so thrown off his game so quickly. You weren’t just beautiful; you were dangerous. The kind of girl who could walk into any room and leave it spinning in her wake.

Your eyes scanned him slowly, taking your time before answering, “I’m full of surprises.” You led him into the house, your walk slow and confident, hips swaying slightly in a way that felt entirely too intentional. Sid clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes forward, pretending he wasn't completely aware of every single move you made. “My dad’s in the backyard. He’ll be in soon.”

Sidney nodded, his brain still catching up to the fact that you were his old friend’s daughter. That this wasn’t some random woman he could flirt with without consequences. Your dad was a good guy, and Sidney respected him, but damn, it was hard to keep that in mind when you were looking at him like you were right now—like you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him.

His heart pounded in his chest, his pulse loud in his ears. He could feel the warmth creeping up his neck, the heat pooling low in his stomach, and for a split second, he wondered if you could feel it too–this magnetic pull between you. Could you feel the tensions between you two? Because it was damn near suffocating him. The way you looked at him, like you were daring him to make a move, was driving him crazy. He didn't know if it was your face, your lips, or the way your body seemed to make him drive him wild. Probably all of it. But he needed to keep his cool, needed to act like this wasn't affecting him, like he wasn't already thinking about what it would be like to have your legs wrapped around him. He couldn’t let himself go there, not with you. Not with the daughter of an old friend.

Before Sidney could say anything more, your dad’s voice called from the backyard, breaking the spell. Your dad stepped into the room through the sliding door. But you didn't miss the way Sidney’s eyes flickered toward you, the briefest moment of hunger before his expression shifted to something more casual. It was subtle, but the heat between you two was undeniable.

He shook your dad’s hand as if the world hadn’t shifted the second you opened the door. The man clapped him on the shoulder, grinning ear to ear, before excusing himself to the bathroom. “Be right back, Sid–make yourself at home.”

And suddenly it was just the two of you again, the tension simmering between you like an unspoken agreement that neither of you acknowledged outright.

You stood there, leaning slightly against the counter, your eyes flicking to him again. He could feel your gaze tracking him as he took a few steps deeper into the house, pretending to admire the space. But truthfully, he was trying to ground himself, trying to avoid looking directly at you because every glance sent his mind spinning. The way you looked at him wasn't like the usual attention he got, the way people looked at Sidney Crosby. No, this was different. This felt like you saw right through him. And fuck if it didnt make him want you more.

You haven't said much, but everything in your body language screams control–like you knew exactly what you were doing, exactly how to play this game. And Sidney, despite years of keeping his cool under pressure, was starting to feel like he was on the losing end.

He shifted his weight, trying to focus on something else–anything else–but his eyes kept drifting back to you. He couldn't help it. There was something about you that was utterly unattainable, like everyone else wanted you too, but you were just out of reach, untouchable.

And he wanted you.

Fuck, he wanted you.

But he wasn’t the kind of guy to act on impulse, especially not when it was someone as connected to his past as you were. He had to keep it together. Play it cool. You were young, probably just out of college, while he was–well, definitely not in his twenties anymore. But that didn't stop the way his heart kicked up a notch every time you moved or how his body reacted everytime your gaze lingered on him for just a second too long.

Before either of you could say anything else, your dad returned, oblivious to the tension simmering in the room. You straightened up, the teasing glint in your eye softening just a bit, but Sideny felt it, the crackling energy. You flashed at last glance at him, something playful and almost wicked, before you excused yourself to your room.

As you walked away, Sidney found himself watching the sway of your hips, the way your jeans hugged your endless legs, and just as you disappeared down the hallway, you looked back at him. He knew it wasn’t an accident. That look over your shoulder was deliberate, calculated, and he couldn’t help himself.

Sidney caught himself glancing back at you not once, but twice as you disappeared down the hallway, feeling like an idiot for doing it, but unable to stop himself. The second time, though, he was sure you’d noticed. He couldn’t help himself, he had to look, just to be sure he hadn't imagined it. That tiny smirk was there again, teasing, knowing. You didn’t say anything; you didn’t have to. You already had him hooked.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the way his body reacted to you. He needed to pull himself together. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man, an experienced one at that, but he felt like a kid with a schoolboy crush. All from one glance. One smirk. One little flicker of something between you. He was here to catch up with your dad, not this. Not whatever this was. But the way you moved, the way you looked at him, it was impossible not to want more.

Goddamn, he thought. He was in trouble. He knew that for sure now.

He felt like he'd been thrown into a game he didn't know the rules to, but he wasn't about to shy away. Not when the stakes were this high.

Sidney’s heart pounded in his chest as he turned his attention back to your dad, who was rambling about the backyard, the old crew, and how it’d be like old times again.

But it wasn’t like old times. Not anymore. Not with you there.

“Let's head out back,” your dad said, breaking Sidney’s thoughts. But as they walked through the house and into the backyard, his mind stayed on you, replaying every glance, every tiny shit of your body, wondering what might make him do next.

And somehow, he had a feeling that this was just the beginning.

The backyard was lively, filled with people Sidney hadn’t seen in years, friends of your father, most of whom he recognized from his childhood. Conversations blended into a background hum of laughter, catching up, and the occasional clinking of glasses, but Sidney’s attention was somewhere else entirely.

It was on you.

No matter where he stood, who he talked to, his eyes were constantly searching for you—across the yard, near the fire pit, sitting at one of the tables. And every time he found you, he swore you were looking right back at him. It wasn’t just the occasional glance either. It was a magnetism, a pull, one he couldn’t escape. Whenever you locked eyes, the rest of the world seemed to disappear, like you were the only two people in the crowd.

He tried to focus on conversations, genuinely wanting to reconnect with some of the old friends milling around, but it was impossible to get through more than a sentence or two without wondering where you were. And when you weren’t nearby, he found himself scanning the yard, hoping to catch another glimpse of those half-lidded eyes watching him.

And every single time, you didn’t disappoint.

The tension between you was palpable. When you were close, it was unbearable. And when you were across the yard, it lingered in the space between you, thick like the summer heat. Everyone else was completely oblivious, laughing and chatting like nothing was amiss, like they didn’t feel that electric charge in the air.

Even your dumbass boyfriend didn’t notice. Sidney hadn’t seen you get within arm’s length of the guy all night. Not that he was complaining. Actually, it made him feel a little smug. The way you barely acknowledged him, how you avoided his touch, how you actually looked annoyed every time he tried to get close—Sidney noticed every bit of it.

In fact, your disinterest in your boyfriend became the clearest when everyone had gathered around, embracing him like some long-lost hero. Sidney could feel the weight of your gaze from the edge of the group, the way you hung back while everyone else threw their arms around him, exchanged jokes, and reminisced. You stayed away, distant, cool, those pretty eyes of yours watching him with an intensity that made his stomach tighten.

It wasn’t lost on him either how much you tilted your head when you watched him, like you were studying him, trying to figure out what made him tick. It drove him crazy. He wanted to know if you were thinking the same thing he was. Did you want him like he wanted you? Was your pulse racing every time your eyes met his, or was that just wishful thinking on his part?

He wanted so badly to know what was going through your head.

And then there were the moments when you got close—too close.

Whenever you passed him, whether it was reaching for a drink or moving around the yard, your hand would graze his ever so slightly. Just enough to send a jolt of heat straight through him. He wondered if you knew what you were doing or if it was just coincidence, but after the third or fourth time, he had a feeling it was no accident.

At one point, you brushed by him to grab something off the picnic table, your fingers trailing just barely against his arm. Sidney’s breath caught, and he could feel his skin tingle where you touched him, like a burn that wouldn’t go away. His eyes flicked to yours, and for a split second, the world stopped again. The air between you crackled, heavy and charged. Your lips curved into the smallest smirk, and Sidney had to force himself to tear his gaze away before he did something reckless, like reach out and grab your wrist just to see if that same spark would shoot up his arm.

He shifted his weight, trying to keep himself grounded. His head was spinning, but he couldn’t let it show. Not here, not now. He had to play it cool, even though all he could think about was the way you looked at him with those pretty eyes, your lips slightly parted, as if waiting for him to make the first move. He imagined what it would be like to close the gap, to feel your mouth on his, the warmth of your body pressed against his, the taste of you on his tongue.

But every time the thought crossed his mind, your boyfriend would appear—clueless and completely unaware. The guy didn’t even seem to realize that you were avoiding him, that you were never affectionate, never close. And honestly, Sidney couldn’t help but feel a little smug about it. It wasn’t his fault the guy didn’t notice how your attention was elsewhere.

Sidney’s eyes followed you again as you moved across the yard, your hand brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your fingers grazing the side of your neck. His mouth went dry. He tried to focus on the conversation happening around him, but he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering, from picturing you pressed up against him, your breath warm on his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair.

He needed to get a grip.

Your dad called out to him from across the yard, pulling him back into the moment. Sidney plastered on a smile, lifting his beer in acknowledgment, but his thoughts were still tangled up in you, still replaying every look, every touch.

As the evening wore on, the tension between you only seemed to build. Even though you weren’t constantly in the same group, there was an undeniable pull that kept dragging his attention back to you. Every time he caught you glancing at him from across the yard, every time your hand brushed against him, it felt like another layer of control peeled away.

By the time the sun started to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and gold, Sidney was practically buzzing with need. He was worked up, his mind racing with thoughts he shouldn’t be having, thoughts that would get him into trouble.

But all he could think about was you—about the way your body would feel pressed up against his, the way your lips would taste, the way you’d sigh his name if he touched you the way he wanted to.

It took everything in him not to cross the yard and find a way to get you alone. And from the way you kept glancing at him, he had a feeling you wouldn’t exactly mind if he did.

The night hadn’t ended as he hoped. Sidney's fingers tapped absentmindedly against the steering wheel as he sat in his car, parked in front of your house. His mind was running in circles, replaying every moment of the evening in agonizing detail—the way your eyes lingered on him, the brush of your hand against his arm, the subtle smirk that curved your lips whenever you caught him looking at you.

You were impossible to forget.

The way you had smiled so sweetly, just for him, your fingers brushing against his arm as you whispered, “Goodnight, Sidney,” made his pulse race. But then you had dragged your boyfriend—whom it was so clear you hated—into the house. That should have been his cue to go. It was. He’d told himself there was no point in sticking around when everything was so painfully out of reach.

And yet here he was, still sitting in his car, parked in front of your dad’s house like an idiot, his heart thudding in his chest. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, replaying the way you looked at him, the way your lips had quirked into that teasing little smile. And the worst part? He didn’t want to leave.

He sighed, dragging his hand through his hair, trying to shake the thought of you from his mind. But it was useless. You were everywhere—on his skin, in his thoughts, making him feel like he was going to explode. He needed to get himself together.

Just as he started to gather himself, he heard the passenger door click open. His heart stopped for a second, and when he turned, there you were.

You didn’t say a word as you slid into the car, freshly showered, smelling faintly of soap and shampoo. Your legs, bare beneath those tiny boxer shorts, brushed against the center console, and your top left almost nothing to the imagination. Sidney’s breath hitched, his chest tightening at the sight of you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice was low, raspy, barely above a whisper. He wasn’t sure if he was asking you or himself.

The tension that had been building all night, the unspoken pull between you, snapped the moment you settled into the seat beside him. Without even thinking, Sidney reached for you, and you leaned over the center console, your lips crashing into his with an intensity that stole his breath.

The kiss was desperate, hungry, like neither of you could get enough. Sidney’s hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you made a sound—a soft, breathless sigh that sent a rush of heat straight through him. God, you tasted sweet, sweeter than he could’ve imagined, and he couldn’t get enough.

Your lips moved against his, feverish and demanding, and Sidney was lost in you. His other hand slid down your side, feeling the soft, bare skin beneath his fingertips, and you shivered under his touch. Your lips parted, and he didn’t hesitate, his tongue sliding into your mouth, tasting you, exploring every inch. The kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, but it was perfect—so perfect it made his head spin.

He broke away just long enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing hard, your lips swollen and red.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough and thick with desire. “You’re so—”

You didn’t let him finish. Your hands were on him, fingers curling into his shirt as you pulled him back in, your lips crashing into his again. Sidney groaned into your mouth, his hand slipping under the hem of your top, sliding up the smooth expanse of your back, desperate to touch more of you.

Your hands moved, fingers curling into the length of his hair as you leaned over the console, practically climbing into his lap. He kissed you like a man starved, each touch, each stroke of his tongue against yours making it harder to remember why this was a bad idea.

“Sidney,” you breathed, your voice a soft, breathy plea that made his blood run hot.

He groaned, his hands sliding down to your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin as he guided you closer. “Come here, baby,” he muttered, pulling you fully onto his lap.

You shifted, and suddenly you were climbing over the center console, straddling his lap, your knees pressing into the seat. Sidney’s hands instinctively found your hips, holding you in place as you settled onto him. The moment you sat down, you both gasped, the heat between you sparking like a live wire.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours before trailing down your jaw to your neck.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access, and he didn’t hesitate, his lips and teeth grazing your skin, eliciting a soft gasp from you. “Fuck,” you sighed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed a path down to your collarbone.

He couldn’t stop the low growl that escaped him as you rolled your hips against him, the friction making him grip you even tighter.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to look at you. Your lips were swollen, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes were dark and full of want. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

You smiled, a teasing, almost wicked smile, as you leaned in to kiss him again. This time, it was slower, deeper, your lips moving against his in a way that had him completely unraveling.

“I think I have some idea,” you murmured, your voice full of that quiet confidence that had been driving him insane all night.

“Jesus,” he breathed, his voice low and strained, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he fought to catch his breath. He could feel the warmth of you through your shorts, pressed against his thigh, and it was driving him absolutely wild.

You rocked your hips, testing the waters, and Sidney’s grip tightened on your waist, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

A soft, breathless laugh escaped your lips, and Sidney couldn’t help but smile against your skin. But then you moved again, this time slower, more deliberate, grinding your hips against his thigh, and all traces of humor disappeared.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head tilting back against the headrest, his hands guiding your movements. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear, your breath warm against his skin. “You like that?” you whispered, your voice low and teasing.

Sidney’s hands slid up your back, tangling in your hair as he pulled you down for another kiss. This one was slower, but no less intense. Your lips moved against his in a lazy, sensual rhythm, your hips still grinding against his thigh, sending wave after wave of pleasure through him. His tongue slipped into your mouth again, tasting you, exploring every inch, and you moaned softly into the kiss, the sound making his blood boil.

“Sidney,” you murmured, your voice soft but full of need.

“Yeah, baby?” he asked, his hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing gently.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.

“Never,” he promised, his voice low and rough as he kissed you again, his hands gripping you tightly as he guided your movements against him.

You leaned forward, your lips finding his neck as you pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses to his skin. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as you sucked gently, leaving a faint mark just below his jaw.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his head falling back against the headrest as you continued your assault on his neck.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his as you smiled, that teasing, confident smile that had been driving him crazy all night.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” Sidney murmured against your lips, his hands moving to your hips, guiding you as you moved. “So damn sweet.”

You bit down on his bottom lip, tugging it gently between your teeth, and Sidney groaned, his hands tightening on your waist. “God, you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice rough and desperate. “So perfect.”

Your hands were in his hair, tugging gently as you kissed him, slow and sloppy, your lips swollen and red. Sidney’s hands moved down, gripping your hips as he guided you against his thigh, feeling the heat of you through your shorts.

He pulled away just enough to look at you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Fuck, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “I need you. I need you so bad.”

Your lips curved into a slow, teasing smile, and you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “Then take me,” you whispered, your voice soft and sweet, but full of promise.

Sidney didn’t need any more encouragement. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his lips crashing into yours once more. The kiss was hot and messy, full of tongue and teeth, and neither of you cared. All that mattered was the feel of you in his arms, the taste of you on his lips, the heat of your body pressed against his.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed, his voice rough with desire as his hands slid down to your hips again, pulling you harder against his thigh. “I’ve been wanting this all fucking night.”

Sidney couldn’t remember the last time he felt this out of control. Every kiss, every movement of your hips against him had him feeling like he was seconds away from losing it entirely. You were perched on his lap, legs spread over his thighs, and the way you rocked against him, the heat of you soaking through the fabric of your little boxer shorts—it was intoxicating. His hands were on your waist, guiding your movements slowly, deliberately, just enough to feel the friction but not enough to give you what you so clearly wanted.

Your lips were swollen, a little bruised from how hungrily you had been kissing him, but you didn’t stop. Neither of you did. The taste of you was addictive, and Sidney couldn’t help but groan into your mouth when you kissed him again, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. Your breathless sighs and quiet moans sent shivers down his spine, each sound like music to his ears, pushing him closer to the edge. He felt like a teenager again, like this was his first time sneaking around and making out in the front seat of his car.

But this was so much more intense, so much more desperate.

“Shit,” Sidney muttered, his voice hoarse as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His hands were gripping your hips tightly, guiding you slowly against his thigh, but he could feel the tremble in your legs, the way you were growing more and more restless beneath his touch. You wanted more—he could feel it.

Your head tipped back, lips parted as a soft moan slipped out, and Sidney swore it was the prettiest sound he’d ever heard. He shifted beneath you, the friction of your body against him sending sparks of pleasure coursing through his veins. He wanted to touch you everywhere, to feel every inch of you, but he was holding himself back, trying to maintain just an ounce of control.

But when you started to get impatient, your body grinding harder against his thigh, his restraint started to slip.

“God, you’re driving me nuts,” he breathed, his voice low and rough as his hands slid under the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your back. He could feel the warmth of you through the thin fabric of your shorts, and it was taking everything in him not to just lose it right here in the front seat of his car.

You whimpered softly, your fingers tightening in his hair as you rocked against him harder, chasing the friction, needing more. Sidney’s lips found your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, feeling you shiver against him.

"Please, Sid," you whispered, your voice soft and needy, the sound sending a jolt of heat straight through him. You tilted your hips, trying to guide his hands lower, to where you really wanted him, but he resisted, keeping his touch light and teasing.

“Not yet,” he murmured against your skin, his lips brushing against your collarbone as his hands gripped your hips tighter, holding you in place. “I want to take my time with you.”

A frustrated moan escaped your lips, and Sidney could feel the tension in your body, the way your breath came in short, shallow gasps as you rocked harder against him, trying to find release on your own. He groaned softly, his hands gripping your hips tightly, guiding your movements against his thigh as you ground down, your breath hitching with each movement.

You were so close—he could feel it.

And so was he.

Sidney’s hands wandered beneath your shirt, exploring the soft curves of your body, but still, he didn’t touch you where you wanted him to. He was drawing it out, making you work for it, and the more he held back, the needier you became.

He could feel the heat of you through your shorts, the dampness pooling between your thighs as you pressed harder against him. The thought of you so worked up, so desperate for him, was enough to drive him insane.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Sidney muttered, his voice thick with desire as his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, brushing against your bare skin. You gasped softly, your body trembling beneath his touch, but he didn’t give you what you wanted, not yet.

"Sid, please," you whimpered, your voice breaking as you grabbed his hand, trying to guide it lower. But instead, he pulled his hand away, his lips curving into a slow, teasing smile.

“Uh-uh,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he kissed your neck again. “You’re gonna have to work for it, sweetheart.”

You groaned softly in frustration, but instead of protesting, you did exactly that. Your hands gripped his shoulders for balance as you started to rock your hips against his thigh, faster, more desperate this time. Each movement sent a wave of pleasure washing over you, and Sidney could feel the way your breath hitched with each grind of your hips. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your head tipping back as you let out a soft, breathless moan.

Sidney’s grip tightened on your hips, guiding you, helping you chase that high you were so desperate for. He was losing control, too—his breathing ragged, his skin flushed, and every moan that escaped your lips was pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel so good,” Sidney muttered, his voice rough as he kissed your neck again, his hands sliding down to your ass, squeezing gently as he guided your movements. “So fucking good.”

You whimpered softly, your body trembling as you ground against him harder, faster. Sidney groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly, pulling you down harder against his thigh, feeling the heat of you through the thin fabric of your shorts. He was so close to losing it, so close to just taking you right here in the front seat of his car.

But then you moved your hand between your legs, pressing your fingers against the slick fabric of your shorts, and Sidney’s breath caught in his throat. You were so needy, so desperate for him, and he could feel it in every strained sound you made, every trembling movement of your body.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he watched you, his heart pounding in his chest.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you touched yourself, your fingers moving in slow circles over your soaked shorts. Sidney groaned, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer as he kissed you again, his lips moving hungrily against yours.

He should stop you—he knew that. He should tell you that this was wrong, that someone could walk by at any moment and see what you were doing. But you didn’t care, so why should he?

Sidney’s hands slipped beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your back as he kissed you harder, deeper. He could feel the heat radiating from your body, the way you trembled beneath his touch, and it was driving him insane.

“You’re gonna get us caught,” Sidney muttered against your lips, his voice thick with desire as he kissed you again, his hands wandering beneath your clothes.

You let out a soft laugh, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Who gives a shit?”

Sidney chuckled, his breath hitching as you ground against him again, harder this time. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he pulled you down against him, feeling the heat of you through your shorts. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You smiled, your lips curving into a teasing smirk as you kissed him again, slow and lazy, your fingers tangled in his hair. “You love it,” you whispered, your breath hot against his lips.

Sidney groaned softly, his hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing gently as he pulled you closer. “Yeah, I fucking do,” he muttered, his lips brushing against yours.

The air inside the car was growing thick with heat and tension, and Sidney could barely think straight. The windows were starting to fog up, the outside world slowly disappearing from view as if the two of you were in your own little bubble. Each kiss was deeper, messier, and more desperate than the last, your breath mingling with his as your lips moved together in a rhythm that neither of you wanted to break.

Sidney’s hands were everywhere—on your hips, your thighs, slipping beneath your shirt, exploring every inch of your body. He could feel how soaked you were through your shorts, how your body trembled with need, and it was driving him wild. You were grinding against his thigh, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your little moans making it almost impossible for him to hold back.

The tension between you was unbearable, like a rubber band stretched to its limit, ready to snap at any second. Sidney knew that if you stayed like this any longer, he was going to lose control completely. And the thought of taking it further—of giving you exactly what you wanted—was tempting, so damn tempting. But there were people just a few feet away. One wrong move, one sound, and the entire night would unravel. As much as Sidney wanted you, as much as he ached to take things to the next level, he couldn’t risk it.

You were breathless, your body trembling as you rocked against him, your fingers still pressing between your legs, and Sidney’s mind was a blur of need. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the pulse of desire thrumming through his veins, but he couldn’t help the small voice in the back of his head reminding him of the reality of the situation. If you two didn’t stop now, someone would notice.

The windows were fogging up more and more, a telltale sign of what was happening inside the car, and Sidney knew it was only a matter of time before someone got suspicious. You must have sensed it too because your movements slowed, your breath coming in soft, shallow gasps as you kissed him again, a little slower this time, but just as needy.

Sidney muttered against your lips, his voice rough as he broke the kiss for a second, his forehead pressed against yours. “We’re gonna get caught.”

You didn’t seem to care, your lips moving to his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin as you ground against his thigh one last time. “I don’t give a shit,” you whispered, your voice hushed, but full of need, your breath hot against his skin.

Sidney groaned, his hands tightening on your hips as he tried to hold back, tried to be the voice of reason, but you were making it so damn hard. “I know, but—fuck, we need to stop. Just for now,” he whispered, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

Reluctantly, you pulled back, your lips leaving his neck, your eyes heavy with lust as you met his gaze. Your body was still pressed against his, and the heat between you was almost unbearable. Sidney swallowed hard, his breath coming in short gasps as he tried to regain some semblance of control.

But you didn’t make it easy for him.

With a slow, deliberate movement, you pulled your fingers from between your legs, slipping your hand out from beneath your shorts, your fingers glistening in the low light. Sidney’s eyes darkened as he watched you, his breath catching in his throat as you brought your fingers to your lips, giving him a taste of yourself with a slow, teasing lick.

His head fell back against the seat, a low, desperate groan escaping his lips as he watched you, his skin buzzing with the need to pull you back into him, to kiss you until you were both out of breath again. But you were already shifting off his lap, your body moving away from him, leaving a trail of heat in your wake as you settled back into the passenger seat.

“This isn’t over,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry as you leaned in one last time, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Next time, you’re gonna give me what I fucking want.”

Sidney’s chest tightened at your words, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched you, his mind already racing with the possibilities of what next time might bring. “You think I won’t?” he murmured, his voice deep and full of promise. “You have no idea.”

Your eyes flickered with amusement, a teasing smile on your lips as you leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear. “I’m counting on it.”

Sidney let out a low, rumbling laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to cool down. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, but there was no mistaking the anticipation in his voice, the thrill of knowing that this wasn’t over—that next time, you would both cross the line you were dancing so dangerously close to tonight.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, the tension still heavy between you, but there was an unspoken agreement now. You couldn’t push it further, not here, not tonight. But Sidney was already counting down the minutes until the next time he could get you alone, until the next time he could finally give you everything you wanted—everything you both wanted.

You slipped out of the car, your body moving with an easy grace that had Sidney’s eyes following your every movement. You glanced back at him one last time, a knowing smile on your lips before you turned and disappeared into the house.

Sidney watched you go, his mind still reeling from everything that had just happened. His skin was buzzing, his heart racing, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you felt against him, the way you tasted, the way you sounded when you said his name.

He leaned back in the driver’s seat, letting out a shaky breath as he ran a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing against the fogged-up window. He was already imagining the next time, the way he would pull you close, the way he’d kiss you until neither of you could think straight, and this time, he wouldn’t hold back.

Next time, you were going to get exactly what you wanted.

And Sidney couldn’t fucking wait.

[narrycherries]

call it what you want✨part1

Harry is your best friend, but one day things started to change..

masterlist

word count: 8k

warnings/tags: harry x reader, bestfriends to lovers trope, fluff, smut implied/mentioned

It all happened very innocently, out of the blue and probably due to the built up tension between you two. It was a cool fall day, nearly a year ago, when your big group of friends decided to play a friendly game of baseball together. It was a Saturday afternoon, you were playing your second game of the day. Everyone was having fun, especially your brother and his best friend, Harry, who both love the sport. Harry went to college on a sports scholarship, as did your brother, so they were both very active. A few of your other friends have always played the game growing up, including yourself, so it was always a good time whenever you all planned a game.

But that particular game will always be lingering in your mind. You were running when you caught a bad cramp in your thigh. Harry wasn’t on your team, he was actually trying to get you out when you tumbled over and started crying. Everyone instantly became worried - fearing you broke your leg. But Harry reacted the quickest, and the calmest.

He tossed his glove onto the ground and made the short distance to you, dropping to his knees instantly. His hands grabbed your face and he tilted your head so he could see you.

“Hey, peach, are you okay? Did you twist your ankle?” He asked in a sweet tone, his eyes skimming your lower half for any obvious breaks or bruising.

You shook your head and grabbed the back of your thigh. “Hurts.” You muttered back.

“Pulled a muscle, yeah? I know that hurts. Want me to get you up?”

A whimper came from your mouth as you nodded. His arms went around you and he picked you up off the ground. Your arm flew on his neck, whining began to erupt as you realized it hurt to put pressure on your leg.

“Everything okay?” Austin, your brother, appeared at your side.

You weren’t sure if he had been there the whole time or not, because whenever Harry was around all you could focus on was him. And he had been talking so sweetly to you, his big hands touching you gently. You were lost in a trance.

It wasn’t uncommon. Harry and you were close, due to his friendship with your brother. You hung out a lot more with each other than others did in the group. He was your best friend these days, not really your brother’s anymore. It was platonic, though.

“I dunno.” You sighed, eyes shifting to Harry’s. “I can’t walk.”

“Want me to get her?“ Austin asked.

Harry shook his head and suddenly swept you off your feet. “I got her.”

He carried you to the dug out while the game started back up. You weren’t bothered by not being able to play. You felt horrible, your leg ached like it was on fire. Harry sat down on the bench and sat you on his lap. You were still holding onto his neck, fingers tangled in his long hair. It wasn’t unusual for you two to sit this way - but normally it was in private. Like on the couch as you watched a movie or the nights Harry gets drunk and you look after him - he’s very clingy with you and always, always wants to hold you. But now, in front of all your friends and your brother, this was different. You figured everyone would brush it off and just blame your injury and slightly dramatic reaction.

“Feels like my leg is gonna fall off.” You said with a pout as Harry rested his hand on top of your hurting thigh.

He chuckled, squeezing your waist for a moment. “M’sure it’s fine, doll. Just a cramp.”

“What if I can’t walk tomorrow?”

He smiled, leaning closer to you to lower his voice. “I’ll stay with you tonight. Take good care of you, yeah?”

“Please, bubby. It hurts so bad.”

He pressed a comforting kiss to your temple. “M’gonna give you a massage when we get home. Make it better, promise.”

You nodded back. “You’re the best.”

“Mhm, I know.” He smirked as you rolled your eyes at him.

“Still cocky, though.”

Harry insisted on going back to his apartment instead of yours that night. He had a drawer system he was building for his room and he wanted to get it done this weekend. So you went to his place, not minding staying there for the night. You were curled up in his bed, the soft blanket you picked out months ago wrapped around your body.

You always slept so comfortably in his bed - ever since that time he assured you nothing had happened in this particular bed and no other girl had ever been in it. The idea of you laying where someone’s naked body had been, even if the sheets were clean, was weird. You took a little pride in knowing you were the only person who’s been in his room.

“Are you done yet?” You whined as he walked back into the room. The dresser he was building was finished now and in its new place, yet he was still walking around occupying himself. “Harry.”

He looked over his shoulder and smirked at you. “Few minutes, darling.”

“I miss you.” You mumbled into the pillow, your eyes fluttering shut.

“I’ll take a nap with you in a minute.”

You grunted. “Gotta rub my leg first.”

A shudder rippled through your body as you felt his weight press down on the bed, his lips against your forehead. “I know, sweet girl.” He pressed a kiss to your skin. “Five minutes, okay?”

“Four.”

He chuckled. “Five.”

“Three.” You pushed your luck.

Harry couldn’t resist it. He smiled against your skin. “Three, lovey. I promise.”

You always got what you wanted when it came to Harry. It made you feel special and loved - he cared more than anyone else about you. You kept your eyes closed as you felt him move away. You didn’t want to bother him because that would ultimately increase the time he had to stay away from you. So, you let him be and laid there silently, waiting as patiently as you could manage.

—

Harry was your favorite person to be around. Sometimes, you forget that he hasn’t always been your favorite person. You met Harry when you were thirteen and he was fifteen. He was the new kid at school, from a different country, but he was great at sports so he fit right in. He met your brother, Austin, and they became best friends. He was always over at your house on the weekends and during summer breaks. You used to argue with him over any little thing - more than you did with your own brother.

It was like that for a couple years. He would just join in on Austin picking on you, you’d get aggravated and tell them off to your parents. It all changed when you were eighteen.

You were at a party with your friends, and Harry and Austin just so happened to be there with their friends, too. This was before your two groups mixed together. A guy decided he wanted to flirt with you and when you didn’t return his behavior, he got touchy.

Harry had been watching your encounter from across the room, without you being aware of that. Austin went to do something, leaving Harry in charge of keeping an eye on you. It was an unspoken rule between the two of them - something even you didn’t know. The moment the guy’s hand grabbed your butt, and you shoved his chest in an attempt to get away, Harry knew what was happening. He shot through the crowd. His big hand grabbed your waist and he pulled you away from the guy and into his body instead. You were about to freak out, scared out of your mind, until you looked down at the arm around your stomach and saw some familiar tattoos. It was Harry.

“Back the fuck off.” He said coldly to the guy, eyes full of anger.

Your nails sunk into his wrist, wishing he could just sweep you away. But Harry loved confrontation- and he wasn’t about to let this guy get away with anything. Besides, you were only eighteen. It was the first big party you’ve been to, Harry knew you were going to be vulnerable.

“Gettin’ selfish, Styles? Didn’t know you were fuckin’ Austin’s sister.” The guy laughed, the realization immediately hit you - this guy knew Harry and your brother. “Does he know?”

“Fuck off before I shove your head through the fuckin’ floor.”

“Do it, then. Know you like to fight, Styles. Let’s go,”

Harry dropped his arm from your body, his skin ripping against your nails in the process. He grabbed your elbow to pull you behind him, but you spun around and quickly snaked your arms around him. He stood frozen for a split second, surprised that you did that but he figured you were terrified.

“C’mon, loverboy. Don’t let a whore stop you,” The taunting continued.

But Harry wasn’t paying him any attention. His left arm went around your shoulders, keeping you against him. He reached out with his right hand and grabbed the guy's collar. He held it tight, twisting the fabric to create more tension.

“If you ever touch her again.. I’ll fuck you up.” He spat out, then let the guy go.

Harry immediately turned you away from the guy and rested his hand on your lower back, not quite sure what to do. You were shaking, tears dripping down your cheeks as you kept your face pressed against his hard chest.

“S’okay, now, sweetheart.” He said in a mumble as he let his chin rest against your head. “I’ve got you.”

—

A happiness filled your heart as Harry finally came to the bed. He motioned you to roll over onto your back, so you did. You stretched your arms out as he pulled the blankets away from your body. You were wearing a pair of his briefs as shorts, along with one of his shirts. You had clothes at his apartment, but you always wanted to wear his stuff instead.

“Gotta relax for me, alright? Don’t be so ticklish.” He said with a lift of his brows, trying to be stern with you.

You smile sweetly. “I know, I know.”

Thankfully, all those years of him playing sports has taught him things about healing cramps and pulled muscles. So you never once doubted what he was doing. He grabbed your ankle and pulled your leg up, resting your foot on his shoulder. You winced as the position forced your muscles to stretch out.

“Harry.” You whimpered, reaching to grab your leg but he swatted your hand down.

“Relax, peach.”

“Rub it.. don’t pull it.”

He smiled when your eyes met his. “I know what to do, honey.”

You groaned as he grabbed the side of your knee and began moving your leg, pushing your knee to a bend - pulling a grunt from you in the process.

“Don’t want this part, Harry.” You felt tears swelling in your eyes from the pain. “Please, pretty please, just rub it.”

“Darling, if I don’t do this, the rubbing won’t make a difference. Please, trust me.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. A mutter fell past your lips. “Never said I didn’t.”

Harry was well aware that you hated it when he said things like that - if it was the slightest bit against you, it made you upset. Of course you trusted him, why would he say that? Is he insisting you aren’t trusting him? Is it not obvious? Obviously, he knew and you knew he knew - but his reassurance was read wrong, you were slightly upset now. A bit dramatic, for sure.

“I know, lovey. Let me take care of you, yeah?” He said, the pads of his fingers were now digging into the back of your thigh, right where he knew you were aching. “Y’know m’always gon’ take care of you, peach. Don’t get upset.”

You nod a few soft times, your eyes shifted to meet his as you realize you were being a bit childish. Your arms fell to your sides and you took a deep breath.

“Play some music, lovey. Get relaxed for me. I’ll work your leg.. don’t worry about it.” He insisted as he took his phone from the pocket of his pajama pants and gave it to you.

You typed in the password, your birthday of course, and opened his music library. You had your own playlist saved, so you started playing it and slid the phone away from you on the mattress. He chuckled as you snarled your lip at his actions - he was stretching your leg again.

Harry couldn’t help but to stare at you as your pretty eyes closed. You were laid out on his bed, his hands on your body. He swallowed as he pulled his mind out of the gutter. You playfully wiggled your toes against his neck as he brought your leg up. He shook his head, grinning at you.

“I think you’re faking it.” He mumbled, gripping the back of your thigh as hard as he could, making you wince.

“Harry!” You squealed, kicking his hip with your other foot.

“Fine, fine.. I guess you’re really hurt, hm?”

“Yeah, obviously.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

He kept on with the rough, but pain relieving massaging. You let out small grunts here and there, each of them making his eyes flick to your face to make sure you were okay. You were content, despite the discomfort, because he was with you.

A few more minutes passed before your arms fell down to reach for the phone. Harry gave you a funny look as you changed the song and dropped the phone back down. He noticed the red blush coating your cheeks, your eyes avoiding his.

“Thought you liked that one.” He said with a chuckle as you let out a deep breath.

“It says the p word.” You muttered back, not wanting to talk about it.

Of course he wasn’t going to let that slide though. He kept his hands focused on your thigh as his eyes watched you so closely, not wanting to miss a reaction.

“What, pussy?”

“Harry! Stop!” You whined instantly, pulling laughs from his mouth.

He was amused by your distaste for that word. It wasn’t anything he wasn’t aware of, but usually the songs don’t bother you. He licked his lips and decided to give your leg a bend, working your muscles as much as he could. You winced as he pushed your leg, your knee bending.

“You’re such a grandma sometimes. It’s just a word.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t like hearing it.”

He lifted a brow, even though you hadn’t looked at him. “You only get irritated when I say it.”

“Because you’re my best friend.. I don’t want to hear you say it.”

“You’re so mean to me, yeah? Won’t even let me talk.”

You nudged him with your foot again. “Leave me alone.”

“Fine.”

The moment he let your leg go, you whined and tried to sit up to grab him. You failed and a spark of pain shot through your leg. He grabbed your thigh again, chuckling as you struggled through the discomfort.

“You’re the mean one. That’s the second time you hurt me.”

“Cause you’re bullying me.”

You smacked your lips. “It’s your fault I got hurt!”

He gasped. “What?”

“Yeah! You were gonna get me out so I had to run faster and hurt myself.” You lifted yourself up by your elbows, a pout on your lips as you gave him a hard glare.

“You know I always go easy on you.. I wasn’t going to get you out.” The curl of his lips into a smirk made your stomach bubble. “You get special treatment.”

“Yeah, cus you’re a pussy.” You cocked a brow at him, a cheeky grin covering your face.

“Me? If either of us is a pussy it’s you.” He chuckled. “You’re a bit of a crybaby.”

“Don’t say that!” Your smile dropped to a frown.

“See, you’re getting upset and I’m just joking with you, honey.” He leaned down a little, just to get a closer look at you.

“You’re so mean to me.” You huffed as your arms fell and your back hit the bed.

You knew he was joking and it didn’t really bother you, but the idea of him teasing you always made your stomach churn and your heart race. Every little snide comment was followed by a comforting mumble or touch, it was just teasing.. and it drove you crazy. Nobody else gets that treatment from him, and it makes you feel so special.

“C’mon, don’t be sad, angel.” He sighed out heavily as he realized you were still pouting after a few minutes went by.

You grunted, keeping your response very limited. He let go of your thigh and gently moved your leg so that it was bent and your foot was resting on the bed. You glanced at him, somewhat concerned as to what he was doing. You didn’t want him to stop, not even for a minute.

“Smile for me, peach.” He rubbed his fingers against your calf, knowing you were oddly ticklish there.

You groaned, trying your hardest to ignore his efforts. He didn’t like how you were acting, so he figured he could try to help. He ran his eyes down your body, but stopped as he saw your shirt had rode up a little and your stomach was exposed. If you were ticklish anywhere, it was definitely your stomach.

With no warning whatsoever, he shoved his hands up your shirt and started tickling you. You shrieked, kicking your legs up as he moved his fingertips against your skin. His laugh filled your ears and you couldn’t resist it anymore. You started giggling and squealing as he dug his fingers into your sides and stomach.

“Harry! Stop!” You whined through your first of laughter as he leaned down to move his arms further under your shirt, tickling up to the band of your sports bra.

“No, you won’t smile for me so I gotta make you.” He said with a chuckle as you tried to grab his arms.

“You’re so-so mean!” You couldn’t stop laughing, which was making him laugh just as much.

“Hey!” He yelped as you grabbed his elbow and sunk your nails into his skin. “That’s not fair.”

You grinned. “Don’t be a baby.”

“That’s it. I’m done going easy on you.” He chuckled out as he slid his hands down to your tummy, tickling around your navel and above the waistband - an area that drove you absolutely mad.

“No, please! Ha-harry!” You cried out with the biggest smile on your face.

He couldn’t help but laugh along with you as he tortured your nerves. It felt like a never ending sensation and it was causing you to curl your toes and squeeze your hands into fists. He was enjoying this entirely too much, and that was making you feel like you had the disadvantage.

In an attempt to throw him off guard, you tried to use your feet against his thighs to push him away from you. It was hard to concentrate your strength when you were gasping for air and twisting in his hold. Harry anchored a knee on the edge of the bed to strengthen his position. He was too strong for you to fight, but you didn’t give up.

“You’re a bully!” You said between laughs as you grabbed his forearms and tried your best to tear his hands away from your body, but it was a poor attempt.

Harry kept on, lightening up his movements every now and then to allow you time to catch your breath. But it wasn’t much time. He didn’t want you to retreat back to your previous mood. He wanted to see you laugh and smile and be playful with him. He wanted you to be happy, always happy.

For just a moment, he slowed down his fingers and shifted his eyes to your face. He needed to make sure you were okay and not too overwhelmed by everything. You caught his gaze and instantly grinned at him, a layer of blush covering your cheeks. He figured it was your body’s reaction from the tickling, a soft flush was covering your arms as well. The moment he decided to set aside for you grew into several long seconds, allowing you the perfect opportunity to get him back.

You grabbed his shirt and yanked him forward, immediately grabbing his waist to start tickling him. He let out a laugh as you curled one hand around his neck and brought him down even further, you needed better access.

“Don’t do it!” He said amusingly as you started pinching the skin behind his ear. He was sensitive there and it always made him cackle.

“Payback.” You smacked your lips, then shaped them into a smile as his eyes met yours.

You hadn’t realized how close you actually were to him. He was letting you have your way now, pulling him as close as you wanted and doing whatever you desired. His fingers had stalled on your waist, which surprised you. He had been so intent on tickling you that it seemed unusual that he stopped.

“Finally give up?” You asked with a giggle, but it was too late. He slid his arm under the small of your back and started lightly rubbing his fingertips across your skin - causing you to burst into a fit of laughter. “No!”

Your nails let go of his skin and you instinctively grabbed his nape, applying pressure that caused him to lean further down. Your body began to flop around and limbs were twisting around his body, trying to be freed. He kept on, laughing the entire time as you went through hell.

The leg you had injured was resting on the bed, but the other had wrapped around the back of his thigh. “Please, please.. need a break.” You begged through a whine. The tickling was now truly hurting you.

He decided to be sweet to you, so he stopped moving his fingers, but kept them in place. You whimpered softly, feeling your body start to realize the pain was over for now. It felt nice to come down from the intense high, but you feared it would end quickly. To your shock, Harry dropped down so his head was next to yours, his lips gently pushing against your temple.

“I’ll stop.. for now.” His words were soft as his warm breath caused goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“Thank you.” You whispered back while your fingers trailed into his hair.

“Only because I don’t want you to strain your leg.” You felt his smirk against your skin.

A heavy breath filled your lungs and slowly left your parted lips. “You’re supposed to make me feel better.. not make me hurt more.”

“M’sorry, peach.” He let out a low chuckle. “Want me to take care of you?”

“Yes.. that’s your job.”

He licked his lips and carefully placed a kiss on your temple again. “My job, hm? You’re a bit bossy.”

You shifted your head slightly to catch his eyes. You silently admired how pretty the color was. It was obviously something you were familiar with, but every time you saw them this close up you become intrigued. He furrowed his brows and gave you a smile, slightly unsure as to why you were looking at him that way. Little did either of you realize, he looks at you the same way all of the time, even if by accident. He had been doing it when you decided to distract him just minutes ago.

“Did I really hurt you?” He asked in the softest voice he could manage, not wanting to be too loud this close to your ears. He cared so much about you, even the simplest things were always being considered.

“No.. just made my tummy twist up.”

He licked his lips gently, turning his lips to a smile. “I can always rub the twist away.”

“I do like a good tummy rub.” You giggled back, thinking of the times when you would be on your period and he would insist on rubbing your cramps away. Just the slightest touch of his skin on yours would always make you feel better.

“I know you do, peach.” He quickly pecked your cheek, making your face flush even more.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You curled your fingers into his hair. “Even though the tickles hurt.. i feel better.”

“You don’t ever have to thank me. Like you said, it’s my job.”

A meaningless sigh slipped past your lips. “Can I give you a hug? As a thank you.”

Harry gave you a soft smile. “You don’t have to ask me that, y’know.”

Without saying anything else, you slid your arm around his torso and the other around his head. He let out a soft grunt as he fell against you, his face nuzzling against your shoulder. The amount of security you felt was incredible. You never wanted him to move. You were the safest when you were with him, that you were sure of. Harry moved his other hand off the mattress and under your body, pulling you even further together.

“Can I stay with you all weekend?” You asked in a mumble.

He swallowed softly. “M’supposed to go to the bar with the guys tomorrow night.”

A displeased grunt came from your throat. That made him smile. He turned his head, pushing his face into the side of your neck. You wanted to beg him to stay home so you could be with him, but you didn’t say anything. The fear of seeming too annoying or clingy was something you had to deal with a lot. Harry was your friend, that’s all..

“But.. I can always go with them some other time.”

You sunk your nails into his back. “So, I can?”

“Of course you can.” He pressed a kiss to your neck without even thinking about the location - it made you gasp. “Um, sorry.” He nervously laughed out, about to lean up but you tighten your arm around his head.

“Don’t get up yet.” You muttered, closing your eyes as you savored the feeling of his lips lingering on your skin.

It felt wrong to soak up the pleasure like that, but at the same time you were so consumed by it that it didn’t matter. You were not at all mad about his little action, in fact you wished he would do it again and again. But, in the end, Harry was your best friend and you shouldn’t feel that way. Maybe you were just tired and overthinking how you felt.. or maybe you were really being honest with yourself for once.

“I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Shh.. it’s fine.” You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you relived the moment over in your head.

“Do you.. wanna take a nap?”

You shook your head. “Not yet.. my leg still hurts.”

A laugh left his mouth. “Want me to get back to that?”

You thought for a moment about everything that had happened. The way you felt when his hands were touching your body, the way your heart melted when his lips pressed against your neck, the way your eyes seemed to get lost in his.. every little thing. Perhaps you were tired, and your judgment was altered. Or maybe you were tired of pretending the feelings you always got were fake.

“Can you.. do it again?” You asked in the softest voice he had ever heard you use.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t confused. He gulped as he thought about what to say back. Did you mean what he thinks you did? No, surely not.. you weren’t interested in him that way.. or were you?

“The.. massaging?” He asked innocently, hoping that was what you meant.

It wasn’t that he was opposed to the other possibility, he just didn’t want to seem desperate or weird by insisting that. To his surprise, you answered him truthfully.

“No.. Kiss me.. just.. just one more time?”

Harry’s heart began to race in his chest, causing his entire body to receive sparks. There wasn’t anything he wanted more right now than to give you what you want - whatever you want. He licked his lips and carefully placed them on your skin. You released the quietest moan he’s ever heard - it was hardly even a sound, and that alone made his heart explode. Even though you asked for just one, he decided to give you a few more. He created a short line of kisses along your warm skin, hoping you’d be okay with that.

“Harry.” You whispered his name, making his stomach drop. “Don’t stop. I.. I like it.”

He listened to your command and gladly kept going. He didn’t hesitate to move further up your neck, marking your skin with his lips. Your stomach was churning in the best way possible, making a wetness grow between your legs. You tried your hardest to ignore that, but it was difficult. Harry meant the world to you, he was your favorite person. Now here he is.. kissing your neck and holding your body like this, like he really, really cared about you.

A small lump began growing in your throat as he covered your jaw and suddenly came to a stop by the corner of your mouth.

“You’re so soft.” He said through a breath. “Gotta be gentle.”

You smiled sweetly. The movement made your mouth touch his lips just slightly. “You’re always so gentle with me.”

He pressed a feathery kiss to your skin, still avoiding your lips. “s’because you’re my little peach, hm.”

A breathy laugh slipped from your lips. “I.. I.. never noticed this.” You brought your hand to his cheek and gently used your index finger to tap on the little freckle.

He couldn’t help but grin at you, his dimples sinking into his cheeks. You bit down on your bottom lip as you trailed your fingertip over his skin, admiring the feeling and searching for new freckles. You didn’t see anymore though. Harry’s eyes watched yours intensely as they moved across his face. He felt like the world had stopped and time was frozen. It felt magical to be so close to you.

“You’ve got the slightest bit of.. green in your eyes.” He said quietly, which grabbed your attention. “Just a tiny spot of it on both.. barely there.. the blue almost hides it.”

Hearing him say that made your heart flutter. You realized how close he had been looking at your eyes because those spots he’s referring to were very faint and small. You only ever noticed them yourself when you were doing your eye makeup close up in a mirror.

You gently laid your hand over his jaw. Your thumb was rubbing against his cheek, the stubble growing from his skin was scratchy. You took a deep breath and pushed it out slowly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He muttered the words as quietly as he could, his eyes locked with yours.

Your cheeks were on fire. Despite his weight literally being on top of you, you felt weightless and blissful like this. Harry leaned his face back down, his lips peppering soft kisses across your cheek. You closed your eyes and mustered up every ounce of courage you could. The grip you had on his jaw tightened and you pulled him over, his mouth brushing yours. He wanted to so bad, so desperately bad. You swallowed, trying to keep your composure.

“Please.” You uttered out.

He didn’t wait any longer. His lips touched yours, pushing against your mouth as he let out a soft grunt. You moved your hand to the side of his head, your fingers grabbing his hair as you squeezed your eyes tightly, trying to savor the moment forever.

Harry’s hands were glued to your body. One had snuck down to your waist while the other was on your back. You hoped he’d never move them. You wanted to melt into his body, never be torn away. A whimper fell from your mouth as he gently moved his lips away from yours.

“Harry.” You whispered faintly, unsure of how to tell him you wanted more.

“I.. I, um.” He paused to swallow harshly. “I can stop.”

“No, don’t have to.” You said through a gentle whine.

His eyes moved to yours and you instantly felt your heart overflowing. He gave you the sweetest smile and lowered his lips back to yours, but he didn’t kiss you just yet.

“Your lips are so soft.” He whispered, chuckling as you gave his waist a playful squeeze in an attempt to distract him from your flushed cheeks. “Peaches are soft though, hmm?”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a cute smile. “I guess so.”

“I know so.” He winked, then pushed his lips on yours.

Your stomach turned to knots as he started to move, guiding you with him. It was purely just lips, but the feeling was phenomenal. Harry’s gentle hold of your waist caused tingles to shoot through your body. You wanted him to squeeze you tighter, but you feared asking him. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin everything by doing too much.

A deep grunt filled your ears and made you pull your lips back. Your hand froze on Harry’s head as his eyes opened to look at you. He furrowed his brows slightly, wondering what was going through your head.

“Do you want to stop?” He said quietly.

You shook your head. “No, please.. no. Just.. wanted to see you for a second.”

He curved the corner of his mouth. “See me?”

“You’re.. you’re very nice to look at.”

His chuckle made you whine and furrow your brows at your own words. He gently kissed your cheek then made sure to return his eyes to yours. Your cheeks were covered in flames.

“You’re attractive.” You muttered once you gained some courage. “You know that.”

“You’re quite attractive yourself, peach.”

You scoffed. “Am not.”

“If you weren’t.. I wouldn’t keep doing this.”

His lips pressed onto yours yet again, sending an explosion of sparks through your body. You whimpered softly against his mouth while your fingers twisted into his hair. Naturally, his body began to relax against you, his pelvis nuzzling between your legs. You hadn't really noticed that your legs had fallen apart for him, the uninjured one was still wrapped around his thigh.

The kiss lingered for a few more moments before you decided to take it a step further. You stopped the soft pecking and parted your lips. Harry didn’t say anything, but he did copy your actions to slot his lips with yours. Before you could process anything, his tongue was slipping into your mouth. He grunted when your hand returned to his face and gripped his jaw, keeping his mouth on yours as you returned the favor with your tongue.

Your heart skipped a beat with each touch of his tongue against yours. You felt your core tingly, your stomach bubbling as his hands got greedy with your body. He was squeezing and sliding under your shirt, his hot skin burned against yours.

There was nothing in the world that could ruin this for you. You were both completely engulfed. Harry was grunting while you kept softly moaning into his mouth. He wanted more from you, wanted to show you how he felt but he didn’t. When your nails scratched down his bare waist, he let out a breathy moan, his lips tearing from yours for just a moment.

“Harry.” You muttered out and grabbed the fabric of his shirt, pulling at it.

He understood your unspoken request and he quickly snatched it off his body, throwing it onto the floor before returning to you. Your hands immediately hit his body - you rubbed over the contours of his muscles and ribs before settling on his sides again. You loved to cuddle with him and hold him there, so right now it was more than you could have ever imagined. It felt like he was yours and you could do whatever you wanted. Little did you know, he would tell you that if you asked.

Just as things were starting to heat up, you realized what was happening and who it was happening with. You furrowed your brows and opened your eyes the instant you felt his hardened crotch rutting against yours. He was deep in the kiss, both hands possessively holding your body. You gulped and turned your head so your lips could be freed. He huffed and tried to reconnect to your mouth, but you quickly brought your fingers to his lips.

“Harry.” You whispered, a frown covering the lips he had made swollen.

“What’s.. what’s wrong?” He asked nervously, unsure of what was going through your mind. Was it too much? Did he do something you didn’t like? He started to worry, his heart was racing for a different reason now.

“Just.. not this.” You mumbled back, gently pushing up against his hips.

He lifted his body up some, dropping his brows as your eyes returned to his. “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You whispered back, making sure to give him a sweet smile.

He licked his lips and flicked his eyes to your mouth. “Are we.. done?”

A thousand thoughts ran through your head but you settled on just one. “We don’t have to be.”

That brought a smile to his handsome face, which made you feel relieved. “Yeah? I.. I don’t wanna be.”

“Me neither.”

Harry placed a kiss on your cheek then chuckled against your skin. “Then let’s keep going.”

He practically swallowed your giggle, he wasted no time hitting his mouth on yours. Within a moment, you were locked back in. He picked up where you left off without any trouble or hesitation. It made you feel like you were worth something, like he really cared about you. Despite feeling that way, you constantly pushed back the lingering thought in your head: he doesn’t like you like that. He doesn’t love you the way you love him. He doesn’t want to be with you the way you want to be with him. He just wants to hook up. He just wants to use you.. Your mind kept twirling with the same thoughts over and over again, which were making you lose the sensations you had felt before you stopped the kiss. It didn’t feel magical anymore, it didn’t feel perfect - it felt scary. What if he never wanted to talk to you again after this? What if you went entirely too far?

“No.” You suddenly broke the kiss and whined to him, your hand gripping his shoulder while the other stayed on his waist. “Harry.. we can’t.”

It wasn’t for nothing, though. His crotch had been pressing into yours again, making your toes curl and your heart drop. It didn’t need to happen. He was your best friend, he was your brother’s friend - it can’t happen..

“No?” He furrowed his brows.

“We can’t do this.” You shook your head, letting your hand go down to his pelvis just so you could push him upward again.

He obliged with your movement and lifted his hips again. He hadn’t even noticed that they fell down. He was just as lost in the moment as you were. But now he felt like he had messed up. Was it too much? He should’ve never kissed your neck..

“Not now.. not ever.” You whispered out, squeezing your eyes shut as tears began to swell. You wanted to break down, but you hated when he saw you cry.

“Hey, honey, don’t get upset.” He sighed softly as he realized you were holding back tears. He recognized that every single time. “I didn’t mean to.. m’sorry. I really am. We.. we can keep .. going if you want or if you don’t.. that’s okay.”

You turned your head away from him, your hand coming up to cover your eyes. There was nothing you wanted to do more right now than cry your eyes out. Harry took a deep breath and gently tugged your arm away from your face. You didn’t fight him, there was no point. He was much stronger than you.

“No, Harry.” You felt a tear trickle down your skin. It was such an embarrassing moment for you, but Harry remained calm.

“Hey, if you don’t want to keep going.. It's fine. And.. if you don’t ever want to do it again, that’s okay, too. I won’t.. tell anyone or.. bring it up.” He told you with the sweetest tone and comforting squeeze of your fingers.

“You-you don’t.. get it.” You choked out.

He licked his lips and let go of your fingers. He gently pushed your hair away from your face. “Tell me, then. Tell me what’s going on.”

You huffed. “I want to, Harry. I want to keep going.. so bad.”

His hand found yours again and this time you didn’t try to push him away. You laced your fingers with his and gently whimpered as he gave you a squeeze. His eyes were glued to your face and you could feel his stare on your skin. You could also feel how warm your cheeks were and how wet they were getting from the tears.

“That’s all you have to say, peach. We can-“

“No, Harry.” You cut him off. “We can't! I can’t.. do this with you. You’re my-my best fr-friend.”

“Sweetheart-“ He tried again, but you didn’t let him get far.

“Harry!” You suddenly cried out his name, tears flooding your eyes as your head shifted on the pillow.

You felt like you were going to fall to pieces beneath him. He cupped your jaw and started rubbing his thumb over your skin. You loved it so much when he did that during a normal situation, so surely you’d like it now. You did. You felt comfort from his warm, soft skin. But yet you were still sobbing.

“Hey.. listen to me, okay?” He said quietly as you tried to turn your head in his hold. He shushed you for a moment, trying to ease you back down. “Listen, sweetheart. Calm down.. just take some deep breaths.”

His deep voice caused your stomach to burst with butterflies and your skin to get chills. He could look at you and you’d explode with emotion, but his voice drove you mad whenever he spoke like that. So low, so sweet and kind and comforting.. He wanted to take care of you, make sure you knew he was right there.

“There you go.” He smiled to himself as you started sucking in deep breaths and pushing them out through your nose. “Whenever you’re ready.. M’right here.”

His reminder was followed by the softest peck against your temple. He didn’t want to overdo it by touching your lips again. You needed some time to cope, and he knew that. He knew you so well. It made you feel safe. Harry knew how to take care of you and what to do when you were overwhelmed. You loved that about him.

After a few quiet minutes of thinking to yourself and trying to slow down your heart, you opened your eyes and looked directly at him. He gave you a smile and relaxed his features, waiting for you to speak.

“I.. I want to.. I really like kissing you.. I.. just can’t.. risk it.” Your voice was incredibly soft, but he listened.

“What are we risking?”

“Everything. Our.. friendship.” You whined, but tried your best to not let the tears return.

He rubbed his thumb against your cheek to wipe away part of the tear stream. “Why is it at risk, honey? We both agreed we liked it.. nothing wrong with that.”

“We’re friends, Harry. I can’t.. have these feelings for you.”

He frowned slightly. “Why not? I have feelings for you. You know I do.. you mean the world to me.”

“Harry.” You breathed out quietly.

“I’m serious. I’d kiss you to the end of time if you wanted me to.”

You licked your lips and swallowed harshly. “We can’t.. My brother would freak out.. everyone would.”

Harry exhaled, wishing he could make everything go back to how it was just minutes ago. But he couldn’t do that, and he felt guilty and responsible for the mess up. He should’ve controlled himself. He should’ve paid better attention.

“We don’t have to tell anyone about this.” He watched your face closely as you went from being sad to being annoyed.

“Harry, I know what guys talk about.”

“I would never tell anyone anything about you.” He was quick to retort your comment. His voice got stern and it made you lock eyes with him. “I would never disrespect you like that, ever.”

You huffed through your lips then pouted them out. “I’ve heard the things the guys say about girls they’ve-“

Harry interrupted you. “I would never tell a soul about anything that happens between you and I in private. Whether it's kissing or cuddling or anything.”

You couldn’t dare tear your eyes from his, so you just stared at him. You could tell he was being serious but he was also hurt by your assumptions. You gulped gently, pushing down the lump in your throat.

“You don’t trust me?” He asked in a mutter.

“I trust you more than anyone.” You gently hit your hand against his chest, forgetting it was bare until just now. “With my life.”

“Then why are you so worried about this?” He sighed back. “Nobody knows about the cuddling we do.. how you sleep in the bed with me or.. don’t wear pants while you’re here. You never have to worry about that stuff.”

“I dunno.”

“Do you really think I’d do that to you?” He furrowed his brows again.

“No.. I know you wouldn’t. I just.. need a reason.. for this to be wrong.”

“It isn’t wrong.” He muttered.

“Then why does it feel wrong?”

Harry lifted his head some, just to give you some space. He was about to move beside you on the bed when you let out a whimper and slid your arm around his waist to keep him there. He gave you a smile and shook his head in disbelief.

“If it felt wrong.. you wouldn’t want me to stay right here, peach.”

You shrugged. “Do you actually.. care about me?”

He scoffed. “Of course I do. You’re my favorite human. I’d do absolutely anything for you.”

You thought for a second about everything and eventually exhaled slowly. Harry watched you as your eyes moved to the ceiling, your mind was lost in thought. He waited patiently for you to say something.

“Would you keep this a secret?” Your eyes shifted to his and you surprised him by moving your hand up to his neck. “Like.. whatever we do together.. kiss or.. or whatever else.”

“Of course, peach.” He assured you with a smile. “I’ll never tell a soul.”

You gave him a nod and let your hand fall to his chest. The feeling of his chest hair against your fingertips made your heart jump. You had a weird thing you liked where you rubbed the light hair on his chest. He always found it funny, but he admired how it made you relax. It was comforting.

“Can we keep kissing now?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” He chuckled before finally returning his lips to yours.

…

[a/n: of course, this is just the introduction to this new pairing and short series! I am so excited for this one, It’s one of my favorite things i’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy! + this is more of a story telling format that includes “flashbacks” so I hope it’s not too confusing!]

[softonshanks]

Can i request a Shanks x female reader in which she's the only female member on the crew and she's her period and everyone freaks out? I think it'd be hilarious thanks

Hey, thank you so much for your question. I really like this prompt, I tried to keep it funny as you asked, with a little bit of fluff. I hope you enjoy it (:

Characters: Shanks x female reader

Total word count: 1445 words

It was a sunny afternoon on the ship, but instead of enjoying the day on deck with the rest of the crew, Y/N was curled up in her hammock, clutching her stomach in pain. She had woken up that morning feeling awful, her abdomen cramping in a way she’d never experienced before. It didn’t take long for her to realize what was happening: her period was trying to kill her for good this time. Normally, it was just mild discomfort for her, but this time, it hit her like a tidal wave. The pain was sharp, radiating from her lower stomach down her legs, and it left her feeling nauseous and weak. The worst part? She had no idea how to deal with it on a ship full of men who had absolutely no idea what she was going through.

At first, she tried to tough it out. She didn’t want to make a fuss over something as natural as her period. She usually tried to keep it cool every month, and she always succeeded, but this time, by midday, she couldn’t take it anymore and retreated to her hammock with a groan.

Word spread quickly through the ship that Y/N was sick, and before long, a small group of panicked pirates had gathered outside her quarters. Benn Beckman was the first to peek in, his expression filled with concern.

"Hey, Y/N," Benn said cautiously, "uh, we heard you're not feeling well. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Y/N groaned, her face half-buried in a pillow. "It's just… cramps."

"Cramps?" Benn echoed, looking confused. “For what? Have you hurt yourself again trying to carry stuff way heavier than you?” he asked, worried.

"No, Benn,” she quietly laughed. “And I can handle heavy stuff,” she pointed out before placing her hand on her aching stomach again. “It’s just… girl stuff," she muttered.

That immediately sent Benn backtracking. "Oh! Oh, right, okay. Uh… anything we can do? Maybe… get you some water?"

Y/N chuckled weakly. "I think I'll survive, Benn. Thanks, though."

But Benn wasn't the only one concerned. Soon enough, several other crew members began showing up, each trying to be helpful in their own way—though none of them really knew what they were doing.

Yasopp walked in with a blanket. "You cold, Y/N? You need a blanket? I heard you're supposed to stay warm." She tried not to laugh while she told him, "Thanks, Yasopp, but I'm already warm enough."

Lucky Roo appeared with a tray of food. "Brought you something to eat. Maybe it'll help?"

Y/N glanced at the plate, her stomach turning just at the sight of food. "Thank you so much, Roo. I’ll just eat it later when I’m feeling better."

The men hovered around, trying their best to be supportive, but Y/N could see they were all clueless and a bit nervous. After all, they were used to facing sea monsters and enemy pirates—not a young woman dealing with period cramps. It was sweet, really, but she couldn’t help but laugh at how out of their depth they were.

Finally, Shanks appeared, a wide grin on his face as he shooed the others away. "Alright, alright, you bunch of goofs. Give the lady some space. We can't be crowding her like this,” he said, making Y/N burst into a loud laugh.

“As if you know what to do to make a lady feel better when she’s on her period,” commented Benn, taking a puff from his cigarette.

“Of course I do, I’ve had much more experience with the ladies than all of you,” the captain answered, laughing, while the rest of the crew started to make fun of him.

“Best thing to ease period cramps is to have sex,” he said seriously. Benn put his hand on his face, while Y/N, still in her hammock, threw her pillow at the captain.

“You wish it was, you pig,” she answered.

“Well, the Captain is actually right,” Hongo said, trying to regain his composure. “I mean, from a medical point of view, this is true.”

“SEE? Thank you,” Shanks said, throwing his hands in the air. “Anyway, there’s something that will work even better: laughing. So now all of you get out of here while I work my magic,” Shanks said, as the others slowly backed out of the room, murmuring well wishes before disappearing completely. “If he tries something on you, scream, we’ll come here and rescue you,” shouted Yasopp before closing the door.

Shanks approached her hammock and plopped down on a nearby chair, propping his feet up casually. Y/N, seeing the captain so close, pretended to scream, while he raised an eyebrow, shaking his head.

“That’s how you repay me? I’m here to make you feel better after all, I’m hurt,” he joked.

Y/N couldn’t help but crack a smile despite her discomfort. "Oh, really? You think you can make me laugh while I feel like I’m being stabbed repeatedly in the gut?"

Shanks winked. "Challenge accepted."

For the next hour, Shanks was in top form. He regaled her with stories of his adventures, mimicking the crew members’ quirks in exaggerated, goofy ways. He told her about the time he and Beckman had gotten lost on a small island while drunk and ended up at a fancy ball, pretending to be nobles. He even did silly impressions of Lucky Roo’s laugh and Yasopp’s serious face whenever he tried to shoot something, all while making absurd faces.

Y/N found herself laughing despite the pain, her body relaxing bit by bit with every joke Shanks threw her way. His carefree attitude and easy charm made her forget, even for a little while, how miserable she had felt.

Eventually, after another round of chuckles, Y/N sighed contentedly, her pain easing just a little. "Thanks, Shanks," she said softly, looking at him with gratitude. "You really helped me out today. You’re a really good captain, you know that?"

Shanks waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, I’m just a guy who doesn’t know how to leave someone alone when they’re in pain. But hey, I’m glad I could make you laugh."

Y/N took a deep breath, her smile faltering for just a moment. "It’s… It’s tough sometimes, you know? Being the only girl on a ship full of guys. You all are amazing, but there are moments where I feel a little out of place. Like when I get sick like this, or when I just want to talk to another woman…”

Shanks’ expression softened as he looked at her, his usual playful grin replaced by something more sincere. He reached out, placing a hand on her arm. "I get that, Y/N. And I’m sorry if we’ve a bunch of clumsy, noisy and confused man most of the time. But you belong here just as much as the rest of us. Hell, I’m happy you’re a girl because it means I have someone to stare at whenever I am in need of a pretty face.”

“Thought the only pretty face you loved staring at was Benn’s.”

“I know, right? His long black hair, his stare… the way the cigarette dangles from his lips,” he started seductively describing his first mate, causing Y/N once again to burst into laughter. He stopped, incapable of doing anything but listening to her delightful laugh.

“Yeah, Benn’s hot, but you’re lovely.”

There was a moment of silence as their playful banter shifted into something more serious. The tension between them, always present but never acknowledged, seemed to thicken the air around them. Y/N’s breath hitched as Shanks leaned in closer, his gaze locked onto hers.

"Can I kiss you?" Shanks whispered, his voice barely audible. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and closed the distance between them, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, almost hesitant, as if testing the waters. But when he responded, kissing her back with equal warmth, the hesitation melted away, and the kiss deepened.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were smiling, their foreheads resting against each other.

"That… was nice," Y/N said breathlessly, her cheeks flushed.

Shanks chuckled softly. "Yeah… it was."

They stayed like that for a moment, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s presence, before Shanks finally pulled back and grinned at her. "So, do you think I’ll have to wait until your next period for another kiss like that?”

Y/N shook her head. “Of course not, but don’t ask my permission next time.”

She watched him leave, feeling an overwhelming sense of warmth and happiness despite the dull ache in her abdomen, trying to sleep as she started thinking again about their kiss and less aboout the pain.

[daryltwdixon]

hii!! i would like to request something about what is like to watch romance movies with daryl, (reader was the one who suggested ofc) i think he would act annoyed the whole time but would definitely pick-up something that reader thought it was romantic in the movie😆

Hi anon! Thank you for your request!

The couch is lumpy, the popcorn half-forgotten in the bowl between you. On the small TV screen, The Bodyguard plays, the static of the old DVD giving the film an extra grainy charm. Alexandria only had so many DVDs in their library collection, so it had taken some time to get this specific movie after a couple of the women were hoarding it for a wine night.

You also had to talk Daryl into watching with you, citing how it wasn’t “just romance—it’s about survival too.”

Daryl sits with his arms crossed, his usual scowl firmly in place, but his eyes keep flicking to the screen. It’s clear he’s watching, no matter how much he pretends not to care.

The scene unfolds—Frank, protective and stoic, scoops Rachel into his arms as danger looms. The way he carries her—like she’s precious and weightless—makes your heart skip a beat. You glance at Daryl out of the corner of your eye, wondering if he’s paying attention.

“Why’s he doin’ that?” he mutters, his voice low.

“Because he’s protecting her,” you reply, shifting slightly closer to him on the couch. “She’s in danger, and he’s making sure she’s safe.”

“She got legs, don’t she?” he grunts, shifting uncomfortably. “Could walk just fine. Could actually protect ‘er if he had his hands free,”

You suppress a laugh, nudging him with your elbow. “Its called romance, Daryl. It’s about the gesture, not practicality.”

His jaw ticks slightly as the scene continues, and you catch him watching as Frank gently sets Rachel down, his protective presence never wavering. He falls quiet after that, his eyes fixed on the screen, though the furrow in his brow suggests he’s thinking harder than he lets on. By the time the credits roll, he’s back to his usual self, brushing it off with a grumbled, “Damn chick flick.”

But something in the way he avoids your gaze makes you wonder if he’s already filing it away in that quiet, thoughtful mind of his.

It’s been a long day, the kind that leaves your body aching and your thoughts fuzzy. The group has spent hours repairing sections of the wall to prepare for the herd, and by the time the sun dips low, you’re utterly drained.

You lean against the fence, catching your breath, when you hear familiar footsteps approaching. Daryl’s shadow falls over you, his crossbow slung over his back and a tired but determined look in his eyes.

“Done fer the day?” he asks, his voice gruff as ever.

“Yeah,” you reply, too tired to say more.

Before you can react, he steps closer, sliding an arm behind your back and another under your knees. In one smooth motion, he lifts you off the ground, cradling you against his chest like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Daryl!” you gasp, your hands looping around his neck instinctively. “What are you doing?”

“Gettin’ ya to the car,” he mutters, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Ain’t lettin’ ya walk all that way lookin’ like you’re gonna collapse.”

“I can walk!” you protest weakly, though your body betrays you, melting into his hold. “This is ridiculous."

“Yeah, well, ain’t about what’s ridiculous,” he says, his voice quieter now. “It’s about the gesture or whatever.”

You blink up at him, your heart picking up its pace. “The gesture? Did you just—”

“Don’t,” he warns, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Ain’t no romance novel.

Your protests die on your lips as you rest your head against his shoulder, a smile tugging at your mouth. His arms are steady, his grip firm but careful, and despite his gruff demeanor, there’s something undeniably sweet in the way he carries you.

“Hey,” you say softly as he reaches the car. “You’re not so bad at this romantic stuff, you know."

“Stop,” he mutters, though there’s no bite in his words. As he sets you down and opens the car door for you, he glances at you briefly, his eyes softer than usual. “S’nothin’."

But the way he brushes a strand of hair out of your face before climbing into the driver’s seat tells you all you need to know.

[mianexil]

POV: He heard/saw how someone was planning to harm you .... this trope for togame jo plssss

◇ POV: He heard/saw how someone was planning to harm you ◇

(pt. 2)

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

💫 [ Hey, my cute Jo Togame lovers, your man is finally here. I usually don't write headcannons with him because I'm not really into him yet. So let me know in the comment: Is it worth adding this turtle more often? In that case, I think I'll have to think about him a little more often. ( I also added Choji here) ]

💫 [ The reaction of the Windbreaker boys when they heard/saw that someone was going to harass you. Don't worry, cutie, you're under the protection of these boys ]

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

ㅡ Togame, Choji

Togame

The light of the beautiful festival lanterns reflected in your eyes as you walked along the food stalls.

The white yukata with the image of a red poppy rustled from your movements, and your heart was full of joy, because you will spend this fireworks festival with your boyfriend, who once again decided to work in the festival shop. Hearing the sound of your geta, Togame was distracted from hanging traditional masks on the shelves.

Your boyfriend slowly broke into a satisfied smile.

《 You look wonderful, pretty girl. This yukata suits you very well 》

After cooing for 15 minutes, you decided to go get dango.

Jo returned to his work when he suddenly heard 2 male voices behind him. However, the long-awaited visitors turned out to be not the most pleasant news this time.

《 Dude, girls in yukata are fucking hot. Did you see that chick in the white yukata with red flowers? She's definitely my type 》 - 《Well, go to her. She's not going anywhere in those shoes anyway 》

If only these assholes knew what a chilling look awaits them right behind their backs. The green eyes darkened, burning the guys with a look from under half-lowered eyelids.

Their guffaw was interrupted by a single movement. The poor guys' view was blocked by masks, and then heavy hands fell on their shoulders.

《 Shall we go talk? 》

The sauce on the sweet dangos glistened so appetiingly while you were carrying a box of them to Togame's shop. However, there was no one there. You started to turn around, looking for your boyfriend in the crowd, when you saw him walking towards you along the path in the warm light of the festival lanterns. Jo was smiling, relaxed, waving at you with his hand, which contained 2 new bottles of ramune.

《 Hey, baby, I bought us drinks 》

With a relaxed drawl, the man leaned over to you so that you could feed him sweet dangos from your hands.

That evening, you never found out that some 2 idiots slept through all the fireworks, lying in a log by some tree in the forest near festival street.

Choji

This active boy just couldn't help but invite you out on the weekend. You've already got used to the fact that one day off with him is one new adventure, because he can't stay at home, and he doesn't want to go without you.

《 Y/N, Y/N, let's go, let's go..》

And so, you found yourself in some crowded park after a long walk. Wanting to let your legs rest, you told Choji that you would go to the bench. In response, your boyfriend nodded with a big smile and said he would bring you sweets from an ice cream van nearby.

While you were catching your breath, Tomiyama was standing in line for a cold treat. It was noisy in the park, but the conversation of some jerk behind stood out from the rest of the background. The guy was talking on the phone, constantly laughing in some kind of nasty, raspy voice.

《 Yes, man, I noticed her a few minutes ago, and she's been sitting on the bench alone all this time. You should have seen her whore's flared skirt, she's one hundred percent looking for attention and I'll give it to her, hehe. It's been a long time since I've had a pretty girl 》

Choji followed the gaze of the guy who was staring right at the unsuspecting you.

How dare he utter such disgusting words in your direction!? Does he really want to die today? It seems Choji has just got a new rival.

A flame flared deep in Tomiyama's eyes, darkened with anger, and a joyful smile on his lips was replaced by an expression as if he wanted to kill here and now.

The nasty guy with the phone had to be distracted from the conversation because of the gaze of the head of the Shishitoren boring into him.

There was a tense silence. Choji stared in silence for a few seconds before speaking.

《 Isn't she beautiful? Tell? Yes?...But that's not for your eyes 》

The poor guy didn't even have time to be displeased when Tomiyama already rushed at him.

Usually in a fight people aim at the jaws or cheekbones, but God, this crazy boy was definitely aiming right at the bastard's eyes.

You jumped at someone else's scream and saw a crowd gathering around something.

Of course, you immediately realized that your boyfriend might have caused this commotion. And you weren't wrong. Running closer, you immediately saw the flashing yellow jacket of Shishitoren.

It was a bit difficult, but you had to pull Tomiyama away from his new rival victim. Otherwise, that jerk definitely wouldn't have survived.

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

[hhughes]

𓈒 ୭ৎ you belong with me 𝅄 ۪ ݁ 𓈒

(fic) — in which will's gf (lauren - sorry if ur named lauren) doesn't treat him right and you're waiting for Will to realize he belongs with you! you could probably already tell but it's based on you belong with me by taylor swift!

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. will smith x bsf!reader. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. fluff. language. 𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. this is a repost that I just edited a bit. need to write more for will asap. as always reblogs and feedback is appreciated and I hope you liked it <3

You open the door to your apartment, kicking your converse off and lining them up neatly on the shoe rack at the front door. You sigh when you see two pairs of shoes lying on the floor, bending down to pick those up and placing them there as well. You immediately go to your room and change into comfy clothes quickly, wearing shorts and a familiar worn out ‘US hockey’ shirt that belonged to your best friend will. A small smile forms on your face when you hear laughter coming from your living room, walking towards the sound and being met with a familiar sight.

Gabe, Ryan and Will lounging on your couch, looking so comfortable anyone would’ve thought it was their apartment.

"Hey, look who's finally here!" Ryan yells and you grab a slice of pizza from the box before taking your seat on the same couch as Will, placing your feet on his lap and his hands automatically fall to your calves, caressing them softly.

"You don't get to complain that I'm late when you two left your shoes laying around again," you say and Will smiles, shaking his head, knowing what a big pet peeve that was for you.

"How do you know it's ours and not Will's?" Ryan asks, throwing a piece of popcorn in will’s direction, only smiling sheepishly when you send him a glare about the mess he’s making

"First of all, I know every pair of shoes he owns and he doesn't own the ones that were laying around. Secondly, Will would never let his shoes get that dirty, it's the pretty boy in him. One speckle of mud and he has to wash them. And lastly, he knows better than that." you say and Will squeezes your knee in retaliation for the "pretty boy" comment, smiling when you kick him in the thigh.

"What are we watching?" you ask

"IT," Gabe answers and you immediately protest.

"Absolutely not," you say and Gabe laughs.

"It's not even that scary." Gabe says

"It's not scary, it's just creepy. I hate clowns, they shouldn't exist, especially not to amuse kids," you mumble and grab a pillow when Gabe starts the movie anyway. It was his turn to pick and if you were gonna make him watch all your movies then you had to watch his.

Movie nights were something you and Will started when you were still in highschool, and the tradition carried on to college. You can't really remember when Gabe and Ryan joined in but they haven't missed one since.

You miss half the movie anyway since your attention is focused solely on Will, as it is most of the time. He looked good tonight, but then again he always looks good. He was wearing grey sweats and a tight fitted white T-shirt, his hair a little messy as if he took a nap earlier and just came over without fixing it. His hand was still absentmindedly tracing patterns on your leg and you shivered when his hand slipped to the inside of your thigh.

"You cold?" he asks and you nod, not wanting him to know you were shivering because of something else.

"C'mere," he says and you move closer as he grabs his hoodie he took off earlier, pulling it over your head.

"Thank you," you say as you cuddle into his side more, his arm around you and hand resting on your hip.

You spend the next thirty minutes or so there, nearly falling asleep when Will's phone rings. You sit up a little as he reaches for his phone, letting out a big sigh as he stands up and answers the call.

"Hey baby," Will answers and your chest tightens at the soft way he speaks to her.

"I'm watching a movie with the boys and—," he says and lets out a big sigh at whatever she's saying.

"Yeah okay, I'll be there soon," Will says and you frown when he starts collecting his stuff.

"Where are you going?" Gabe asks, beating you to it.

"Lauren invited people over to her place tonight and apparently we're hosting together and people have been asking for me," Will explains, grabbing his keys from the coffee table.

"She didn't tell you earlier?" Ryan questions, a frown on his face

"No. I told her I was busy tonight," Will says and Ryan scoffs, shaking his head and giving his friend a disgruntled look

"And she still hosted it tonight? Without you knowing...and now she's telling you to leave and go there?" Gabe asks, trying to get Will to see how weird that is but he just shrugs.

"I don't know man, she probably just forgot. I'm fucking exhausted though. I gotta go," Will says but stops right beside you on his way to the door, bending over so he can speak softly to you.

"You're not upset with me are you? I hate when you're upset with me," Will says, hand playing with the ends of your braid and you shake your head.

"No, it's all good. Do what you gotta do," you say with a smile. one you know he could tell was fake.

"Rain check on movie night? Maybe next week it can be just you and me, like old times. Feel like I haven't spent much time with you since these two are always around. i’ll make it up to you. I promise," Will says, kissing your cheek before making his way out of your apartment. You'd have liked to tell him that it wasn't because of Gabe and Ryan that you guys weren't spending as much time together, it was because of her.

Will met Lauren at the first tailgate you guys had attended at BC, after that they went on a few dates and after a few dates they were together.

It wasn't one of those classic situations where you were in love with your best friend and hated every girl he paid attention to but you. It was about the fact that she treated him terribly, and he deserved so much better. And maybe it did hurt your feelings a little bit that he was dating someone like that. Because if he was dating a girl that gave him all these things that you couldn't because she was just that great then maybe you'd understand why it wasn't you he was dating. But you didn't understand why he would be with someone like Lauren, when you were right here, where you've always been.

"I'm not the only one who doesn't like her right?" Gabe asks when Will is gone.

"I can't stand her. She's so rude and she treats him so badly. I don't know what he sees in her honestly," Ryan says with a frown on his face and they both look at you expectantly.

"I mean as long he's happy I don't have anything to say," you say and both of them scoff

"He's obviously not happy. All of us can see that, you probably most of all with how well you know him," Ryan says and you just flick your attention back to the TV.

"When are you two gonna stop pretending you don't have feelings for each other and just get together?" Gabe asks

"He doesn't have feelings for me, if he did he would have acted on them a long time ago and he certainly wouldn’t be leaving my place to go see his girlfriend," you say, emphasizing the word

"What if he was holding back cause he didn't know if you felt the same way?" Ryan asks and you just shake your head.

"It doesn't even matter now. He's got a girlfriend and whether we like her or not, we still have to respect that," you say, your tone making it clear that you didn't wanna talk about this anymore.

The next time you saw Will was later that week, you were sitting at a table at your favourite café, reading a book when he took the seat across from you.

"What's wrong?" you ask, immediately noting the annoyed expression on his face.

"The beanpot is next week," Will says, as if he didn’t circle it in red on your calendar on the fridge.

"I know. Everyone's been talking about it for weeks, I had four people corner me in the hallway this morning asking if I could hook them up with tickets cause it's already sold out and they know i'm friends with you," you say and Will frowns, taking your hand in his and rubbing circles on your palm with his thumb.

"They cornered you? Who?" he asks, the furrow between his brows deepening

"It doesn't matter, Ryan took care of it, but the point is. . . trust me everyone knows the beanpot's coming up," you say and Will's frown doesn't disappear but he allows you to divert from that topic

"Not everyone apparently. Lauren told her parents l'd be coming up to New York to meet them that weekend," Will says and your jaw drops

"She did not. Why? How can she not know? You've told her like 20 times, you even bought her and her 50 friends tickets to go," you say exasperated and Will sighs shaking his head

"I don't know, but she wants me to tell coach I'm missing it and still go to New York," he says and your jaw drops even further if that's possible

"Oh my God, she's insane. There's no way you'd miss any game, but especially not the beanpot games. You've been dreaming of playing in the beanpot since you were a little kid," you say and Will smiles at you

"Yeah that's what I told her and we got into a pretty big argument about it. It's okay I know she's not that into hockey so maybe she really did just forget," Will says, the frown back on his face

"You're not that into reality TV, or dance, or any of the things she's into really, but you still make time to see her or do those things with her, or at least remember when it happens because what's important to her is important to you. That's just what a good partner does," you say and Will nods

"Yeah, it's fine though," he says but you know him better than that. You can obviously tell it really hurt his feelings that she forgot and then she argued about it with him too? What was he doing with a girl like that?

"For what it's worth, l'm really excited to watch you play in the beanpot. I know you're gonna do amazing and I think it's the coolest thing ever that you get to do something you've dreamed about doing for so long. And I'm so excited to be there and cheer you on," you say and Will grins, bring your hand up to his lips to press a kiss against your palm.

一

Later that night you were laying in bed, watching a show on your laptop, your eyes drooping closed every few seconds before you peeled them open again, when you heard a knock on your door.

"Will, it's the middle of the night, what are you doing here?" you ask as he steps into your apartment, closing the door behind him.

"I called my mom, and I told her about stuff with Lauren and you know what she told me?" he asks and you shake your head, head still a little foggy from your in and out naps.

"She said I'm with the wrong girl. That the right girl would listen to me, and support me, understand me. Make me laugh when I feel like I'm gonna cry. The girl who knows all my favourite songs, and I tell about my dreams. The one who feels like home. So I went to see Lauren, and I broke it off and then I sat there for about three hours because I realised that the girl I'm looking for is you. And I feel like the biggest idiot because you've always been there, and all this time how could I not know that you're the one I belong with. and i’m so sorry," Will says and you take a deep breath trying to keep your tears from falling as you let out a little laugh

"I've been giving you the biggest heart eyes since forever, it's about time you noticed," you joke, and he smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his forehead against yours.

"Well can I be your oblivious boyfriend, instead of your oblivious best friend?" Will asks teasingly and you nod, connecting your lips to his in a soft, long-overdue kiss.

[mari-writes]

“Um, Viktor, I think you’ve had enough.”

Jayce nervously taps his friend on the shoulder. The man is collapsed across the bar top, a glass filled with some sort of cocktail clutched in one hand.

“Hmm,” Viktor slumps further, only turning his head to face him. “Oh! Jayce. Hello.” A dreamy smile pulls at his lips. He blinks slowly. 

He’s so drunk. Jayce rolls his eyes fondly. “Yeah, it’s me.” He prods him again. “Cmon, buddy. We should go.”

“No!” Viktor sits up so fast he nearly elbows Jayce in the stomach. “I’m not finished!” The man holds up his drink. It catches the light, sparkling a bit with some sort of edible glitter. His eyes shine with wonder, as if he were witnessing another Hextech miracle.

“Bottoms up!” Viktor cries, and proceeds to chug the rest. Jayce catches himself starting at the long, graceful column of Viktor’s neck, at how his throat works to down the drink. And when he finishes—the way he gasps, licks his lips. Heat sizzles in Jayce’s gut.

That’s been been happening a lot lately: The lingering glances at Viktor’s face and body, and the immediate guilt that follows. Jayce shouldn’t be looking at or feeling for his partner this way. But he can’t help it.

“Woah!” Jayce barely has time to react as Viktor slides off his stool, landing hard on the ground. His legs buckle slightly and he wobbles. “Careful!” Jayce hurries to steady him by the elbows. “Where’s your crutch?” When Viktor shrugs, he sighs, scanning the area until he spots it leaning against the end of the bar.

“All right. Let’s get you back to your room.”

It’s a struggle. A drunk Viktor is even more stubborn than a sober one. He insists he can hobble himself back to his room, only relenting once he nearly face-plants into a foliage display. His clothes are getting rumpled, shirt half-untucked from his slacks, tie in disarray. 

Jayce ends up supporting the majority of his friend’s weight, with Viktor’s arm around his shoulders. Jayce can’t help but notice how small the man’s waist feels under his palm. His fingers twitch.

“You were only at the gala for a couple of hours,” Jayce notes, if only to distract himself. “You didn’t have that many drinks, did you? You’re such a lightweight.”

Viktor snorts. “I am not.”

“Oh really? Who’s the guy being carried out of the party right now?”

At that, Viktor halts in place and turns toward him. “Oh, Jayce,” he smirks. “I’m almost certain I’ve consumed more substances in my life than you.” His voice is breathy. Teasing. Jayce pouts. Viktor’s probably right, but he’s not sure he should be proud of that fact.

“Viktor,” he warns, but that only seems to amuse his friend further. He leans in, so close that Jayce can easily count the man’s lashes. His eyes are drawn to those two lovely moles—on his sharp cheekbone, above his upper lip. Jayce wants to trace from one to the other with his—

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

Jayce nearly chokes on his own spit. He blinks, leaning back to stare at Viktor with wide eyes. He feels his jaw drop. “V-Viktor!” He stammers, aghast at both his friend’s words and his own body’s reaction to them. Everything is suddenly so, so warm, from the tips of his ears to the ends of his toes.

Neither of them say anything for a few moments. They just stand there, at an impasse, with Viktor grinning slyly and Jayce sputtering like a moron. A strange energy swirls between them, as if they’re back in their lab experimenting. But there’s no magic here. Or electricity. It’s just them.

“Hmm,” Viktor finally breaks the silence, leaning back. He nods once. “I thought so.” He starts walking again, forcing Jayce to follow.

“You know what?” Jayce snaps, finally finding his words. He hefts his friend up higher, supporting him a bit more. “If you’re so used to abusing alcohol, maybe I should just leave you in this hallway to fend for yourself.”

“Hey!” Viktor’s voice cracks slightly. “Be nice to me! I’m disabled!”

“That’s no excuse for being a drunk idiot.”

At that, Viktor throws his head back and releases a booming laugh. It’s loud, louder than Jayce has ever heard his friend laugh, shaking the man’s entire body. His eyes are squeezed shut, mouth wide in unabashed joy.

Jayce is unable to look away. He knows he must be wearing the most besotted, far-gone look on his face right now, but he can’t bring himself to care. This man is incredible. Beautiful. Absolutely perfect. How lucky is Jayce, to have him as his partner.

As they trek the final distance, Viktor’s ramblings wane. He’s half asleep by the time they make it to his room. Jayce helps him to his bed, laying him down as gently as possible and bending down to remove the other man’s shoes.

“Jayce.”

Glancing up, he sees his friend’s fiery gaze fixed on him. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Jayce smiles softly. “Anytime, Viktor.” Hands on hips, he raises one eyebrow at his friend. “Take care of yourself, okay? And don’t come crying to me tomorrow if you’re hungover.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Jayce chuckles as he quietly sees himself out. “Good night, Viktor.”

//

My very first jayvick fic! 🤗 It was inspired by this amazing artwork on BlueSky! I love these two so much and wanted to write a lighthearted little story after such a heartbreaking finale 😭 PLEASE, if you enjoyed, comment and share! I’m usually a Haikyuu writer so any promotion for this is helpful. 🙏❤️ Thanks!

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  MY YOU

SUMMARY : part v of gimme half. the first valentine’s day with dean winchester and he is just absolutely adorable… for like the first half of this fic, the other half is filthy.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v

WORD COUNT : 1.9k

A/N : jung kook song title. my you is why I have the #my dean ✨ tag ☺️ I don’t know if I named the cat before, but the cat's name is Mona-Lisa now and he’s a boy! oh and happy birthday @girls-alias💓

When you got home from work you didn’t expect to open the door to your cat, Mona-Lisa, frolicking in a path of colourful rose petals leading up to your bedroom. You smiled at the sight of him as you stepped out of your heels and shoved them into the corner with your foot—next to Dean’s boots—to put away later. 

Mona-Lisa had a few red and pink petals stuck to his sharp teeth and some stuck to his soft, furry body, but he gladly accepted his fate when you picked him up in your arms. Dean was the culprit behind the romantic scene of your darkened home and it made you smile, your stomach jittery despite never really giving a damn about some stupid love holiday. 

Mona-Lisa’s cute paws rested on your shoulders and his nose nuzzled into your hair before he decided to take a bite out of your shoulder when you continued to carry him up the steps. It was a soft and playful bite for the most part, and it made you laugh.

When you got to your bedroom, where you suspected Dean was waiting for you, Mona-Lisa sprung from your arms to get through the barely-opened door. Dean had his back to the door and a lighter in his hand that he used to light one of the many candles he’d placed in your bedroom. 

“Wow, if there’s a fire, I’m suing you,” you teased with a grin, watching Dean turn around carefully to avoid stepping on Mona-Lisa—who was walking in circles around Dean’s feet with his tail up. 

Dean smiled shyly, clearly caught off guard. “Hey,” he greeted you, placing the lighter next to the candle he just lit. You walked towards him and let him wrap his arms around you while his lips pressed to the corner of your mouth. “Happy Valentine’s Day?” He shrugged, sounding a little unsure of whether or not he was supposed to say that. “Should I have asked you to be my Valentine? I- uh, I’ve never done this before,” he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. 

You cupped his flushed cheeks and brought him down for a kiss that made his shoulders drop. Dean breathed softly against your lips and melted into you. His hands moved down to your hips and they flexed over the softness of your dress before he pulled you closer to him. 

“I… I don’t think you need to ask,” you smiled, kissing him softly when he dove back in for more. 

“Then… what do you think?” He chuckled, slowly sliding his hands down to your ass. He squeezed gently and you bit your lip, hesitantly looking away from his adorably flustered face to admire his work. “I’m not being cheap,” he began to explain himself, “I was just, uh- well, I didn’t know if you were the type to want to celebrate Valentine’s Day— not that there’s anything wrong with that— and I really just did this last minute for you. You know, in case you were into this t-”

“Dean,” you interrupted his rambling with a small giggle. He exhaled and forced a laugh to convince you that he was being cool. “I love it, and.. you look so cute standing right here like this, so stop overthinking it,” you reassured him, gripping his flannel to pull him down for a longer, deeper kiss to express your gratitude. 

Dean’s hands moved lower to your thighs and you felt him bend his knees just as he titled his head, parting from your lips for a quick breath. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lifted you in his arms, and your legs squeezed his hips. 

You buried your fingers into his hair, moaning against his mouth. His hands moved along your back, over your legs, squeezing and kneading. He moved towards the bed, stopping momentarily when his knees hit the mattress. 

He held you tight and lowered you onto the bed carefully, his lips hovering above yours. His green eyes travelled over your face and you averted your gaze as if it would stop him. Your hands slipped away from his hair, your legs fell open, and you turned your head to the side, relaxing despite the nervous thud of your heart. 

Dean’s lips latched on to your neck, his stubble scraped over your soft skin. Your eyes fell shut and you shivered. Arousal began to warm up your body and dampen your underwear. Dean nipped at your skin, pressed hot, open-mouth kisses over the skin not covered by your dress, flicked his tongue over your skin. 

“Where’d you get all this stuff?” You whispered, grabbing a handful of flower petals and candy from the bed before letting it fall back down. Dean slowly turned away from your chest with a playful laugh getting muffled against your skin. 

“I stole those roses from Poppy, or whatever her name is, two houses down. And… those are the leftover chocolates from the Halloween bucket… and… well, I always have candles just in case,” he told you, nuzzling the side of his face into your breasts. You smirked at him, but then your eyes softened when he looked up at you, his thick lashes fluttering against his freckled cheeks. 

“Hunting stuff?” You asked, sneaking your hands under his warm flannel to push it off his shoulders. Dean pushed himself off you to shrug the thick shirt off his body and you bit your lip. His t-shirt stretched tightly across his chest and his jeans did the same over his taught thighs. “Are you wearing cute Valentine’s Day lingerie underneath?” You teased, hooking your fingers on his belt loops to tug him closer between your legs.

“N-no? Should I?” He teased back, teasingly letting his fingers glide along the inside of your thighs. 

“Next time,” you murmured, pulling his belt with a pout.

“Next time,” he breathed out a laugh, undoing his belt with one hand and lifting your dress up your thighs with the other. “Are you? Wearing pink lingerie underneath?” Dean hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and waited for you to respond before tugging them down.

“No,” you grinned.

“Good, I would’ve ripped it off you anyway.” And he did just that, in one swift move, your underwear tore audibly, and he threw it over to the floor carelessly. 

“Poppy’s going to kill you for damaging her roses,” you mumbled against his lips—which were stretched into a mischievous smile. Dean slowly pulled away with a few final pecks to your lips  and started going down your body, his breath puffing over your glistening cunt.

“Only if she finds out it was me,” he hummed, his warm tongue licking up from your entrance to your clit. You gasped and pressed your head deeper into the mattress, your eyes squeezing shut and your hands gripping his hair. 

Dean made you come twice, once with his thumb on your swollen clit and his tongue inside your pulsing walls, and a second time with his tongue on your clit and three of his fingers inside your used cunt. 

You whined and whimpered his name as your body convulsed and your legs shook beside his head after each orgasm. Your body couldn’t handle much more, but Dean was persistent, encouraging and comforting you. 

He paused momentarily as you caught your breath. Your head buzzed and your vision was blurry, your heart pounded in your ears, and your skin was flushed. Dean bunched your dress at your waist, your nipples were hard and sensitive from his mouth and his fingers, but goddamn, you wanted more. 

You could feel Dean’s gentle fingers on your sloppy cunt, soothingly brushing his thumb around your overstimulated clit. His tongue lapped at yours and you could taste yourself in his mouth, his lips were glossed with your release, but you didn’t care.

You weakly held his taut biceps, your nails clawed at the hard muscles as they moved with every dip of his body into you. The cotton of his t-shirt brushed against your pebbled nipples causing you to shudder and moan into his skillful mouth. 

“One more,” he murmured, sucking on your bottom lip before pushing three of his fingers back into your slick pussy. You inhaled sharply and scratched his arms when he knowingly curled his fingers into that same spot inside you over and over.

“Dammit… Dean,” you sobbed, your body tensing, head turning to the side. Your stomach fluttered with excitement despite the shake of your legs on either side of Dean’s hips and the quivering of your cunt. Dean breathed heavily above you, his chin tucked into his chest as he stared shamelessly between your legs. 

He continued to thrust his fingers into you, shallowly and precise, driven by the pornographic sound of his fingers plunging into your wet heat and the breathy sounds of pleasure you made. Your hands twisting in his shirt and you cried from how sensitive you were, only partially amused because it felt so good all at once.

Your body was overflowed with so much happiness and pleasure that you completely let go as your third orgasmed seized your body. A moan of Dean’s name caught in your throat and all that left your kiss swollen lips was a strangled sound of bliss. 

“Fuck,” Dean whispered against your jaw, his eyes fixed between your legs, “that’s right, sweetheart.” His teeth sank into your jawline and you felt him slide down between your legs. He used his tongue to lap up your release from your dripping pussy and kissed your thighs adoringly.

“I…” you exhaled, eyes opening slowly to look down at Dean between the wet mess between your legs. “Fuck, d-did I..?” You couldn’t finish the sentence as embarrassment burned at your cheeks, but Dean looked more than pleased with himself as he licked his fingers clean of your fluids. 

“Yup, and it was hot,” he smirked, which magically made you feel slightly better about squirting. Dean pulled the dress from your waist, nearly yanking it down your weak legs to join your ruined underwear on the floor. 

You sat up carefully, frowning at the wetness on the bed that Dean didn’t really care about. He pulled his shirt over his head and you imagined that you literally drooled at the sight of him and his flushed skin. It was covered in freckles and scars, and it always managed to look pretty and hot. You snapped out of your trance when he unbuttoned his jeans and started unzipping them. 

“You said one more,” you complained with a laugh, watching him slip out of bed to remove his jeans and boxers properly. You changed your mind when you saw Dean’s cock, the way it throbbed and bounced as he climbed back into bed between your legs. The wet tip was glistening with smeared precum that continued to dribble out of the slit. “…But I’m glad you lied,” you grinned, pushing Dean onto his back when you kissed him. 

“I didn’t lie…” he pouted, his dimples deepening above his lips. You tilted your head and gazed down at him with an expression of amusement on your face, your eyes glittering with internal laughter. “…I… just lost count ‘cause you’re so hot.” 

Dean smoothly slipped out from underneath you and draped himself over your back. He kissed your shoulders and lifted your hips to position his cock at your soppy entrance. You moaned instantly when he pushed himself inside you, silky skin sinking easily into your wet cunt. 

“Waffles for dinner?” He panted into your ear, the grin on his face seeping into his voice. 

“Yup,” you moaned, reaching between your legs where Dean’s fingers were toying with your sensitive clit. 

➥

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[cjlouwho]

Carry the Burden

read on ao3 or below. 7.6k, tags: emotional hurt/comfort, mentions of past abuse, emotional/psychological abuse, depression, mentions of suicide, mentions of vomiting, love, care, no major character death

Summary:

With Buck, Tommy was an open book... mostly. There was one particular, very important chapter that he kept closed. He didn't bring up his childhood. Didn't mention his parents much. That was a part of his life no one but he and his therapist needed to know about. But a surprise visit from his father changes all that, and sends Tommy spiraling down a path he'd fought so hard to shun away.

They were on the couch, Buck laid out with his head on the arm rest and legs sprawled over Tommy's lap. Tommy had his own legs crossed and stretched out on the coffee table. Buck barely registered Tommy's phone buzzing as he reached and pulled it out of his pocket.

“Hm. Dad's in town.”

Tommy had been so nonchalant with his words that Buck was pretty sure he heard him wrong.

“What?” He asked as Tommy laid the phone beside him.

“My dad's here, apparently.” He didn't even look away from the TV as he spoke, keeping his focus on the basketball game.

They'd been sitting there for nearly half an hour now, Tommy watching the game while Buck did a deep dive on the history of mummification. It wasn't his first time researching the subject, but it was always good to get a refresher.

“Are you... are you going to see him?” Buck asked.

Tommy was an open book with Buck, mostly. It helped that Buck was always more than willing to share stories from his own past.

Tommy would talk about how he was a chubby kid growing up and got made fun of a lot for it. How he took up wrestling in high school. How he joined the military at seventeen, mostly to show his classmates just how strong he was. He'd go into detail about the missions he completed in the army, and the way it impacted his life to this day. He didn't shy away from who he was when he first became a firefighter. How he followed along with Gerrard because it was the easy thing to do. He made no excuses for himself.

Tommy talked about part of him wanting to stay at the 118 once Bobby came, but his past loomed over him like a dark cloud and, even though Hen and Chimney forgave him long ago, every time he walked into the station he was reminded of who he was and not who he wanted to be.

He talked about his first few weeks in therapy. How he went through three therapists before he found one he liked. How hard it was to come to terms with so many aspects of his life.

He still went to therapy, once a week, always on a Tuesday. That was one of his regular days off, and Buck knew there would always be a couple hours of radio silence from him then.

There was one aspect of his life that Tommy never really discussed in detail.

His parents.

It wasn't that he never mentioned them. Buck knew that his dad was not a good man, and that his mom died when he was young, but that's all Tommy had ever really said.

The scoff Tommy let out at Buck's question told him all he needed to know. “No, I- I will not be seeing him.”

Buck pushed himself up into a sitting position, bending his knees close to his chest. “How'd you find out he was in town?”

Tommy didn't have siblings. Didn't really have any extended family. None he was in regular contact with anyway.

“He texted me,” Tommy answered simply.

“I didn't even know he had your number.”

“Oh, he has it,” Tommy managed to look over at Buck and give him a grin that didn't quite reach the eyes, “he just rarely uses it.”

“But he is now?”

“Apparently.” Tommy turned back to the game, but Buck reached over and squeezed his forearm, regaining his attention.

“Hey, Tommy, use your words. I've never heard you mention your dad calling or texting you, but he suddenly is now? Is there a reason?”

Tommy sighed. He reached for his phone, unlocking it before handing it over to Buck. “That's all it says. He's not a man of many words,” he said, before mumbling out, “or many good words, at least.”

Buck read over the text:

In town. Let's talk. Stuff to figure out.

He handed Tommy his phone. “Are you gonna answer him, at least?”

Tommy shook his head. “No, I am not.”

“Aren't you a little curious...”

Buck's voice trailed off as Tommy reached for Buck's hand, gently tugging Buck towards him. Buck maneuvered himself until he was curled into Tommy's side, his head resting just below Tommy's shoulder. Tommy wrapped his arm around Buck, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I appreciate the concern,” he spoke quietly, “but this,” he added, lifting his phone, “is not happening.”

Buck understood issues with parents. He'd told that to Tommy so many times before. He'd gone over his life story time and time again, and Tommy always listened with the utmost care and consideration. He always seemed so happy for Buck too. Happy that he was able to, for the most part, work things out with his parents. They may not be on the best terms, and they'd probably never be what others considered a “close” family, but they were better. And that was good enough.

Still, Buck could tell that Tommy was done with the conversation, so he let it go.

“How much longer until the game is over?” he asked, changing the topic for Tommy's sake.

Tommy let out a laugh, shaking Buck slightly. “About ten minutes.”

Buck closed his eyes, settling further into Tommy's side, “Wake me up when it's over.”

*****

They'd been together six months now, had exchanged keys a couple months in, but Buck still felt a thrill every time he walked into Tommy's place knowing Tommy wouldn't actually be there yet.

Something about it just felt so domestic. And Buck loved that feeling.

They'd already discussed moving in together. If they both had a night off, they were never apart, instead switching between each place depending on what errands they had planned for the next day.

Buck had another two months to go on his lease, so they decided to hold out on actually moving in together until then. There was no reason to deny him getting his security deposit back, or being forced to pay rent for an apartment he was no longer living in.

Still, Buck preferred Tommy's house. It was an older place, and not very big, but it had a nice garage for working out and a good kitchen that Buck enjoyed cooking in.

Which was why he came to Tommy's today. Tommy was working, but he'd be off by six, and Buck wanted to have a good dinner ready for him to come home to. Bobby had given him a recipe for something called Marry Me Chicken, and well, who was Buck kidding, that was the ultimate goal.

They would be the first to admit they were a bit unconventional. Besides swapping keys two months into their relationship, they had discussed whether or not children were in their future on date number four.

Tommy never really let go of the fact Buck invited him to his sister's wedding after one failed date.

They had sex on Buck's balcony before they had it in his bed.

They said I love you for the first time in month three, when Buck was deathly ill with a stomach bug and somehow got vomit in his hair. Tommy got him in the shower, letting Buck rest all of his body weight on him as he cleaned him up. Wrapped in Tommy's arms, head resting on his chest, eyes closed as water and soap flowed down his body, and the taste of throw up still on his tongue no matter how many times he brushed and used mouthwash, he uttered out an “I love you” to Tommy. He didn't even care if Tommy said it back, but Tommy did. He pressed a kiss to Buck's temple, dragging a wash cloth down his back, and said, “I love you too, Evan. So much.” That wasn't just the day Buck knew he loved Tommy, it was the day he knew he wanted to marry Tommy.

And, no, the chicken wasn't going to be a proposal. That wouldn't be happening until after they had officially lived together for a while- which had been a discussion during date number six.

But the name of the recipe, the words marry me, made Buck feel soft in a way that almost felt ridiculous, especially since it was literally just a recipe for chicken breast.

Buck had just placed the chicken in the oven when there was a knock on the door.

He rolled his eyes. Tommy often came home with his hands full, opting to carry most of his items separately instead of placing them in his duffel.

“One of these days I'm not gonna answer,” Buck called out as he neared the door, “just to teach you a le- Oh.”

The words died out on his tongue when he was met at the door by an older man that was very much not Tommy.

This man had thirty or so years on Buck, and was a few inches taller too. He was broad- really broad. Like Tommy, but on steroids.

“Uh, sorry, I- I thought you were someone else,” Buck began after he collected himself. “Can I help you?”

“Is this Thomas Kinard's place?” The man's voice was gruff. The kind of voice you get after smoking a pack a day for years on end.

“It is.”

“You're not him.”

“I'm not.”

“Where is he?”

Well, this conversation was going swimmingly!

“I- I'm sorry, who... are you?”

“Right,” the man held out his hand, although the scowl on his face remained. “Charles Kinard.”

Buck couldn't hide the surprise on his face after hearing the name. He shook Charles' hand, which held on a bit too tightly. “Oh! Oh, you're Tommy's dad.”

“'S'what it says on the birth certificate.”

Once Charles let go, Buck moved out of the way, allowing him to come inside. “Come in. Sorry, I was, um, not expecting anyone. I'm Evan Buckley, um, Buck, by the way. Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot,” Charles noted as he walked farther into the house, eyes drifting around the place.

“Yeah, I- I know. Sor- uh, Tommy should be home pretty soon. He's been working. Was he... Did he know you were coming?”

He cringed at the question, knowing it was an odd thing to ask. He was still trying to catch up with what was going on. Tommy hadn't mentioned his father since three days ago, when he got the text he never answered. Maybe he had ended up answering and just never said anything to Buck, but that wasn't like Tommy.

“Not really,” Charles answered, finally turning to face Buck. “Who are you?” he asked, eying Buck up and down. Buck wasn't really sure if Charles was looking at him, or his apron, which he now remembered said, 'I like my meat rubbed, jerked, and pulled!'

Buck untied the apron and unceremoniously pulled it off of him, crumpling it up in his hand. He realized in that moment that he had no idea what Tommy's dad actually knew, or didn't know, about him. “I'm his friend,” he settled on, “from work.”

“You work together?”

Buck nodded. “Sort of. Different stations, but, yeah, um, yes we're both firefighters.”

“Mm.”

“Uh, why don't you have a seat,” Buck suggested, motioning toward the living room as he stepped closer to Charles. “Tommy won't be too much longer now.”

Charles moseyed into the living room, glancing around at the décor before taking a seat on the couch. “You come over and cook for your friend while he works?” Charles asked as Buck returned to the kitchen.

He wanted to text Tommy, or call him, and let him know what was happening, but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't exactly talk about his dad while he was right in front of him, and Tommy wouldn't check a text when he was driving.

“I, uh, I like to cook,” Buck started, trying to think of an explanation that didn't sound too ridiculous. “And he's got a good kitchen, so I come over, um, sometimes to cook. I- I pay with food.” God, he was an idiot.

Another grunt like sound came from Charles, and Buck was about ninety percent sure he didn't buy it.

Buck wasn't sure how to communicate with the man. He was usually pretty good about stuff like this. He could make up random things to talk about with anyone, whether they wanted to hear it or not. But this was his boyfriend's father who didn't know for sure that Buck was Tommy's boyfriend, and all the questions that were coming to Buck's mind were only questions a significant other would ask their partner's parents.

“So, Mr. Kinard,” Buck began, beginning to slice a cucumber. He wasn't even planning on using a cucumber for anything tonight, but he needed something to do.

“Charles.”

“Charles, um, what... are you visiting LA?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, good. That's... that's good. I'm sure Tommy will be happy to see you.”

Yet another grunt. This one almost sounded like a snort. Buck leaned over slightly to get a look at the man, who was staring straight ahead, eyes fixed on the turned off TV in front of him.

“You should stay for dinner,” Buck suggested, hating himself as the words left his mouth. “There's gonna plenty.” That was true. He always made enough for leftovers.

“Okay.”

This truly was a man of few words.

Buck was just about to tell him he could turn on the TV and watch something when he heard the sound of keys jiggling in the doorknob.

The door opened before Buck could get to it.

“Oh my God, Evan, what smells so good? I could smell it from outside,” Tommy said, walking inside. Buck met him at the entryway.

“Just chicken. Um, Tommy-”

Tommy dropped his duffel at the door, “I even put my stuff in it this time,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as he grabbed at Buck's shirt to pull him in for a kiss. Usually, Buck would've been thrilled. Told him it was about damn time and asked if he could take a picture to remember this moment forever.

Instead, he quickly pulled away from the kiss and unwrapped himself from Tommy's touch.

“We have a visitor, Tommy,” Buck said when he was met with a confused face. “You do, I mean.”

“I was wondering who's car was out front,” Tommy replied. “Figured the neighbors were having another party or something.”

“No, um, it's...” Buck's voice trailed off. He could tell Charles was somewhere behind him now. Could see that Tommy's eyes trailed from looking at him to looking at his father. Whatever was left of the smile on his face disappeared, his skin paling.

Part of Buck wished he could disappear. Just melt into the floor and turn into a puddle of goo.

The other part of him had the urge to stand between the two men forever, making sure Tommy was protected from whatever pain his father had obviously caused him.

Buck had never seen the look on Tommy's face before. It looked like fear and sadness, mixed with rage.

“What are you doing here?” Tommy asked as Buck stepped to the side to get out of the way.

“Well, hello to you too, TJ.”

TJ? That was new.

“Don't call me that. What are you doing here? How'd you find my house?”

The problem with where Buck was standing, was that he couldn't move toward the kitchen without walking directly in front of the two men, and he wasn't sure this was a good moment to move.

“I'm not an idiot. You own the place, I looked it up. I texted you when I got to town.”

“I know you did.” Tommy shrugged off his jacket, dropping it on top of his duffel bag. “Thought you'd get the hint when I didn't answer.”

“You know how I am with subtleties.”

“Not answering a single one of your texts for three years is not exactly subtle, Dad.”

Buck could not do this any longer. He could feel Charles' eyes on him and, if he was going to be Tommy's friend, he couldn't exactly go into protective-boyfriend mode.

“I'm gonna,” he pointed toward the kitchen, “just go over there.”

Tommy waited for Buck to be out of the room before continuing. “You need to go,” he said, staring his father dead in the eyes.

“Hm. Thought you wanted to know what I was doing here?”

“Decided I don't care.”

Charles smiled. It didn't reach his eyes the way Tommy's did. There were no laughter lines, no scrunched up nose. Just a meaningless smile. “You're lookin' good, TJ. Lower BMI than the last time I saw you. That's good.”

Buck wasn't sure if he was hearing things correctly. Who says that to their kid after not seeing them for years?

“And you're looking me in the eyes. You always struggled with that before.”

“It's easier now that I'm too big for you to hit.”

Buck sucked in a breath. It was impossible to not overhear the conversation. With the open floor plan, Buck could still see Charles, although he didn't have a view of Tommy.

Charles laughed. A deep, guttural laugh that made Buck feel uneasy. “You're never too big for that, T-”

“You need to go. Now.”

“Hang on a minute,” Charles said, waving Tommy off. “I gotta talk to you about my will.”

“I don't give a damn about your will.”

“I've got fifty acres of land in Colorado, TJ. Been in the family for generations.”

“You've got a double wide trailer on that dump of land and couldn't get rid of it if you tried. I don't want it.”

Buck could hear shuffling, so he quickly picked up a knife to make it look like he'd been chopping away at that same cucumber from earlier.

Tommy entered the kitchen, washing his hands at the sink before turning to Buck. “Need help with anything, Ev?”

“N- No, um, no, I'm good.”

“I'm not getting any younger, TJ.”

Tommy placed a hand on Buck's lower back. It was as though it was an anchor for him. Something to keep him steady.

He glared over at his dad. “You're still here?”

“Don't be dumb, Thomas. I'm not leaving until we talk about this. Besides, your friend here invited me for dinner.”

The hand on Buck's back stiffened, before being removed completely. He turned his head toward Buck. “You did?”

“I- I thought you two might, um, might want to catch up.”

He hoped Tommy could read between the lines. Hoped he understood what Buck was really trying to say.

“I felt like I had no other choice. This was really awkward, even for me, and I panicked. Please, don't hate me.”

“That's kind of you, Evan,” Tommy replied, his attention returning to his father, “but we don't have anything to catch up on.”

“Hey! Don't stand there acting like I'm the problem,” Charles said, crossing the room in three steps. Buck could feel Tommy stiffen beside him. “You're the one who left, not me! I've been the one contacting you. You can act like I'm a terrible father all you want, but I'm the one that helped you be something!”

“You didn't help me! I ran from you! I was seventeen years old, Dad, joining the army to get away from you!”

Buck wanted to say something. Wanted to kick the man out of the house, or at least hold up his bowl of finely chopped cucumber and ask if anyone wanted a bite.

But, this wasn't his house. Not yet, anyway. And, somehow, he felt responsible for this whole debacle. He couldn't stop thinking about how he should have done things differently. He shouldn't have let Charles in the house. Shouldn't have attempted to make conversation. Shouldn't have invited him to stay for dinner. Should have figured out a way to call and warn Tommy. Should have texted him anyway; maybe he would have read it before getting out of his truck.

“You know, I really should have known better,” Charles said, shaking his head. “Should have known you wouldn't want to help your old man out.”

“Help you out?” Tommy asked, exasperated. “I have done nothing but help you out for years! I bailed you out of jail three times. I paid your gambling debts for you. I took a second mortgage out on my home so I could pay your back taxes! If I didn't stop answering your messages, I'd be living on the streets! And now you want to come talk about a will? On property that you've nearly foreclosed on twice? I'm surprised you even have that place any-” he stopped mid sentence. Buck glanced over at him, worried something had happened.

“You're about to lose the property, aren't you?” Tommy asked. That made much more sense.

“Now, just listen-”

“You're really here to have me buy the property, and give you the money, so you can go blow it on booze and steroids and hookers and whatever else you feel like.”

“This is what family does, TJ,” Charles said, pointing at Tommy as he eyed him down. “They help each other when they're in need.”

“When have you ever helped me, Dad?” Tommy asked. His voice was different now. Resigned, almost. “Never.”

“I don't need to stand here and listen to these lies in front of your friend!”

Tommy scoffed. “I think you know he's more than a friend.”

“Yeah, I do know. He's been bumbling like an idiot since I got here.”

Buck could feel his face turning red. He wasn't embarrassed by Charles' words, more surprised by the man's lack of filter.

“Get out.” Tommy demanded. “Now!”

Charles moved even closer, a tight fist placed on the countertop of the island. “You owe me!” he spit out through gritted teeth. “The embarrassment you have caused me. Being the way you are, having to answer questions from my friends! I have been trying to knock sense into you for years!”

“Maybe I was too busy lying to doctors in the hospital for the sense to really get knocked in there!”

“Pathetic,” Charles said, before mumbling out, “like your mother.”

“Get out.” It was Buck's voice this time. It no longer mattered to him that this wasn't his home. He didn't care if he was overstepping. Tommy could be mad if he wanted.

For as little as Buck knew about Tommy's family, he did see the way Tommy's eyes got red and glassy when he mentioned his mom. How he'd clear his throat and say she was a good woman, a great mom, gone too soon. From what he'd pieced together on his own, it was a suicide.

Tommy had never said as much, but he came to Buck's after a particularly bad shift. Buck hadn't even been expecting him. He showed up at the door, eyes blank, mind somewhere far away. He'd even forgotten he had a key of his own.

He'd curled into Buck the second the door opened, arms tight around Buck's waist and head turned into the crook of his neck.

Buck squeezed him back just as tight. Asked if he was okay, accepted the silence in return. They stayed there for a while, until Buck was finally able to convince Tommy to move to the couch.

Tommy snuggled up to Buck's side the second they sat down. He laid his head on Buck's chest, one arm curled between them and the other resting over Buck's stomach. They'd rested like this before, but this was the first time Buck ever thought that Tommy looked small. Not physically, obviously, but the way he acted was like a child in desperate need of comfort.

So that's what Buck did.

It was the longest thirty minutes of silence before Tommy spoke. “I worked the ground today,” he explained through a shaky voice, making no effort to move off of Buck. “We were short-staffed. There was a call. A kid found... he found his mom. She was in the bathtub. She was already,” he swallowed down a sob, “she was gone already. He was freaking out. I waited un- until his dad got there to be with him.”

“That's terrible, Tommy,” Buck said, running a soothing hand up and down Tommy's bicep.

“It just... it reminded me-” he cut himself off, took a deep breath, “I like being in the air.”

Buck wasn't dumb. He could put together a puzzle that was missing half its pieces. He knew better than to press the issue. Knew what Tommy needed right now was simply to be held.

So he held him.

He held him until Tommy's breaths evened out and the sun had long set.

And now, with Charles in front of him, it was all Buck could think about. That moment replaying in his mind as Tommy's father spewed venom from across the counter.

“If you're not out of here in ten seconds, I'll call the police for trespassing, and you seem like the type who has warrants waiting for them.”

Charles opened his mouth to speak, but Buck grabbed for the phone in his pocket.

The older man held his hands up in surrender and, without another word, turned and left the house.

There were a few beats of silence before Buck spoke. “Tommy, I-”

“I need to go for a walk.” Tommy's voice was stoic.

Buck didn't like that. He followed behind Tommy as he headed for the door. “Do you want me to come with you?” he asked.

Tommy picked up his jacket and slipped it on. “No, I'm fine.”

“Tommy, I don't-”

Tommy stopped in the open doorway, hand still on the knob but halfway out the door already. “Evan, I'm fine,” he repeated. His voice wavered this time. Only slightly, but enough for Buck to catch it. “I just need a minute.”

Buck nodded, pursing his lips together. “Yeah, okay.”

He stood there long after the door had closed.

*****

A cool breeze filled the air as Tommy walked down his street. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets as a chill came over him.

He was tense. He kept trying to make sense of the thoughts in his head, but everything felt all jumbled.

He'd been doing so well. Therapy had helped him work through so many of the issues he had with his dad. Had helped him cut off contact. He stopped enabling the man and set himself free of him.

The only reason he didn't block his dad's number was because he knew, one day, a police officer or one of his dad's deadbeat friends would be calling to say he was dead. Even if he cared nothing for the man, he'd still like to know when it was all over.

There were times Tommy would sit and think about the things he'd say if he ever came face to face with his dad again. He had a list. All the ways his dad had screwed him over throughout his entire life.

And then the one time he actually did come face to face with the man after all these years, he didn't say a single damn thing he'd written down.

He knew he'd never get the chance again.

Knew his dad wouldn't really care anyway. He never cared about the pain he caused, even when Tommy was a little kid.

His jaw tensed. He could feel the sting of tears in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. He didn't want to cry anyway. He wanted to be mad.

That's what his dad always got angry at him for. Tommy would get upset, and he'd cry. His dad would yell, and he'd cry. His dad would hit him, he'd cry. His dad would hit him harder because he was crying, he'd cry even more.

Kids at school would make fun of his weight.

His dad would make him run laps until he'd puke.

He'd avoid eye contact to try and not be noticed.

He'd cry.

He'd cry.

He'd cry.

Not now though. Now he could hold it in. He finally learned that as a teenager. Perfected it over time. His therapist helped him with that too; taught him not to hold in his emotions. For the most part, he didn't anymore, he'd let himself feel whatever he was feeling. Right now he needed to control something, and this was the something he could control.

So he didn't cry.

But he let himself be mad.

Because he was so damn mad.

Mad at himself.

Mad at his dad.

Mad at him showing up to his house, invading his safe space, a space that had been free and clear of the trauma of his youth.

Now, every time he'd step in that house he'd see his dad there.

He hated that.

As much as he hated to admit it, a part of him was mad at Buck too.

No, mad wasn't the right word.

Envious, maybe.

Every time Buck talked about his parents, a twinge of envy sparked inside of Tommy. He knew it was stupid. He didn't even particularly like Buck's parents. He definitely didn't like who they used to be, how they used to treat their son.

But, to their credit, they had been trying now.

And that's where the envy came in.

Because Buck's parents went to therapy with him. They started showing up, being there for their kids, through good and bad, even when they weren't comfortable.

And yeah, they were a little late, and not all wounds ever completely heal. There were still problems, and they were always a bit on edge when Tommy was around, but they were there.

They still put on a smile for Buck, however forced, and corrected themselves when they called him Evan.

They'd never hit their kids. Sure, they were a little too busy ignoring them, but Maddie and Buck never had to be afraid of their parents.

“We were invisible,” Buck had told him once.

Tommy didn't say it, he'd never speak the words out loud, because he knew how much being invisible hurt Buck. But, the first thing Tommy thought when he heard that was I wish I could've been invisible too.

Even thinking something like that made Tommy feel like a bad person. Actually, he often felt like a bad person. A terrible, terrible person who was so undeserving of any forgiveness, happiness, and love. He'd think about who he became in the military. Closed off, angry, ruthless at times. He'd killed people. He didn't think about it. Just dropped the bomb on whatever target he'd been told to hit. They were just targets. Living, breathing targets. He'd hear reports of kids getting hit with missiles, innocent casualties who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. But that was war, and you didn't get emotional with war. Until you got home and you had to reason with who you'd become.

Then he'd think of who he became when he got hired as a firefighter. More closed off, angrier, trying to make up for what he'd done by saving lives instead of taking them. But, no matter how many saves he got, it didn't make up for the kills. And you could get close to people, but you'd probably lose them just like you did in the military, so why have a friend if they're just gonna die anyway?

Plus, there was Gerrard. Gerrard, who was so much like his dad in so many ways. A crass bastard who didn't care who he offended or how he mistreated people. Tears were a weakness, emotions were a weakness, and Tommy was tired of people thinking he was weak. So, he made sure he wasn't.

The difference between his dad and Gerrard was that, if you fit in with Gerrard, he wouldn't bother you as much.

His dad bothered him regardless.

Tommy was not a good person when he had Gerrard as a boss. At first, he blamed Gerrard. Healing came when he took responsibility for himself.

Even with the healing; with leaving the 118 and starting over. With getting therapy and changing his mindset and forgiving himself, there were times when he felt like the biggest fraud in the world. Because he may have forgiven himself, but he didn't deserve the forgiveness of the people around him.

He didn't deserve the friendship of Howie or Hen. He didn't deserve Eddie, who was always excited to hang out. He didn't deserve weekly dinners with Bobby and Athena, who would ask him about his week and listen to his stories. He didn't deserve Maddie, who was ready and waiting to watch The Bachelor each week with wine and a cheeseboard.

He definitely didn't deserve Evan.

Evan.

Who was always there, no matter what. Wore his heart on his sleeve, would do anything for anyone, Evan.

Evan, who was a soft kiss after a hard day. Who's body fit with Tommy's like two puzzle pieces that were finally placed together. Stubborn, smart, bold, unafraid, open, honest, loving, kind, adorable, Evan.

He'd talked to his therapist about it one day. Things were going too well, his life felt too good, and that nagging voice drudged its way up from the back of his mind to repeat over and over you don't deserve it, you don't deserve it, you don't deserve it.

Then his therapist asked him a simple question. “When you hear the voice, is it your voice, or is it your father?”

After thinking about it for a while, Tommy answered, “A morphing of the two. Starts as him, ends as me.”

A nod. “Let's dissect that.”

They did.

It sucked.

But it helped too. It didn't make the feeling go away, but it did help him recognize that what he was feeling didn't just stem from the choices he made as an adult, it started all the way back when he was a child. When he was told, time and time again, how he didn't deserve good things.

Oftentimes, Tommy felt like his mind was a cruel joke that liked to play, well, mind games on him. As soon as he'd push through his feelings of being undeserving, his brain would laugh and tell him he was pitying himself. Making himself the victim when, in the majority of the things he did as an adult, he was in fact not the victim. This would, in turn, make him feel undeserving of feeling undeserving.

“My mind is a very screwy place,” he said on a particularly grouchy day at therapy. “Truly can't believe they let me fly an aircraft.”

“It sounds kind of like you're torturing yourself for not being perfect.”

“I feel like the more I try to learn and grow from my past, to- to move on from it, it throws itself right back up in my face. I try. I really, really try to let it go, but I can't.”

“I know it's a sensitive topic for you, Tommy, but-”

“No.” Tommy knew where this was going. “No, it's not that.”

A sigh. “Tommy, how old are you?”

He was not in the mood for this today. “Forty-one.”

“And how old was your mother when she passed?”

“Forty-two.”

“I know you've mentioned before how she held onto her guilt. She felt hopeless. Worthless. Let it eat away at her. Your words.”

“I'm not like that. I'm not... I wouldn't do that. I don't feel that way.”

“I'm not saying that you do. I'm saying, sometimes, the reason we feel certain ways stems from our parents, grandparents, etcetera.”

Tommy uncrossed his legs, picked at a string hanging from his jeans. “Can we change the subject? Evan and I have a date tonight and I don't wanna be bitchy when I pick him up.”

*****

Tommy continued down the sidewalk, the only light from the street lamps above him. Occasionally, he'd hear a dog bark or a bird chirp but it was mostly quiet.

He was a couple miles from home now. He knew he should be heading back. His anger had mostly died down to something else by now. Something he couldn't really explain.

Emptiness, maybe?

Yet another word he'd used to describe his mother before.

But, he wasn't like her. He could always get out of bed. He didn't have problems brushing his teeth. He didn't let himself go. He never lost his appetite. He never felt like downing an entire bottle of pills on a regular Sunday afternoon. Would never think of risking his future child walking in the room, excited to tell him about winning the little league game, and instead find him on the floor, long gone.

“I'm the complete opposite of her,” Tommy said at his next session, still annoyed from the previous week. “I don't call out of work, I take extra shifts, I always have something planned when I'm off. I'm in a stable relationship which, yeah, I've only been in for five months, but it's been the best five months of my life. I manage everything fine. Sometimes my mind is just a dick to me.”

“Depression is different for everyone,” his apparently all knowing therapist replied. “Some people have all the symptoms, some have a few, none are exactly alike. There's levels to it, different kinds.”

Tommy slumped back on the couch, sighing as he stared out the window. “Well, that really sucks.”

He tried to be open with Evan. He'd told him so much about his life, about who he was. Evan knew everything about Tommy's time in the military. He knew what Tommy was like when he worked under Gerrard. He knew all the ways Tommy had struggled with himself and his sexuality. He knew all the bad parts, and he loved him anyway.

“I've made so many versions of myself, Tommy,” Buck told him one day, “I think I lost count at 5.0. They're all still me though. I wouldn't be here if I was never there, and I really, really like being here. Sometimes the crappy stuff makes you better in the end.”

Maybe it wasn't as well spoken as something his therapist would have said, but Tommy understood. No matter what, Evan wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't scared off by Tommy. Didn't judge him. He loved him. They loved each other.

Still, as Tommy walked the desolate street, he couldn't help the new voice inside his head. This one was his alone. It was telling him that, as open as he'd been, he'd still closed off a huge part of his life to Evan. It wasn't even necessarily intentional, it was just easier. Easier to avoid the topic altogether. However, it wasn't exactly fair.

He could hear his therapist in his mind, asking him the questions. “Why do you think you've closed that part of yourself off to Buck?”

He'd answer, “I don't exactly like revisiting the subject.”

“Do you not trust him with that part of your life?”

“Of course I do! I trust him with every part of my life.”

“Then why don't you tell him?”

“Because...”

“Because?”

Tommy would feel like pulling out his hair at this point. “Because I have spent so many years letting those parts of me go!”

“Have you really let them go? Unless you hit your head and get amnesia, is that even possible? Wouldn't it be easier if you let your partner help carry the burden when it gets hard for you?”

“He doesn't need to carry my burdens.”

“Don't you help carry his?”

On the street, Tommy stopped in his tracks. He groaned, staring up at the sky as if his therapist was some ethereal being. “I hate you,” he mumbled, before turning around and heading back home.

*****

He opened the door expecting to be hit with the ghost of his father standing there just hours earlier. Instead, he was met with the sight of Evan. Straight ahead at the kitchen table. He plopped his phone down on the table and stared up at Tommy, eyes wide and wet.

“Hi,” Buck said softly. He eyed Tommy carefully, trying to gauge the mood.

Tommy let out a shaky breath. “Hi,” he replied, shrugging off his jacket and, once again, placing it on top of the duffel that hadn't moved.

“I was worried about you. You didn't take your phone and I- you were gone a long time.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't realize.” He really hadn't. He forgot he had ever put it in his duffel in the first place, usually opting to keep it in his pocket the majority of the time.

“S'okay.”

Tommy walked over to the table, pulled out the chair next to Buck, and sat down.

“I'm sorry, Evan,” Tommy repeated, for a different reason this time. “I shouldn't have left like that.”

“You don't need to be sorry.” Buck sat up straighter, splaying his hands out on the table. “I'm sorry. I had no idea your dad was like that. If I did, I never would have let him in your house.”

“Our house,” Tommy corrected. “Soon enough, anyway. You don't need to be sorry either. You didn't do anything wrong.”

Buck smiled at him, turning one hand up for Tommy to take. “Can neither of us be sorry instead then?”

Tommy held onto it, Buck's touch relaxing him in the way it always did. “Sounds good to me.”

“Are you hungry? I left the food in the oven on warm, just in case.”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, I am actually. I'll get it though, you relax.” He squeezed Buck's hand as he got up. Before walking away, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to Buck's temple. When he began to pull away, Buck held onto his shirt, turning his head and giving him a real kiss. He moved his hands up to Tommy's face, stroking his thumbs along his cheeks as he did his best to project all his love into the kiss.

Tommy looked dazed as they parted. “I think I need to go on walks more often.”

Buck rolled his eyes, swatting at Tommy's butt as he walked off. “Ass.”

“And you love it.”

“I suppose I do.”

“So, what'd you make?” Tommy asked, putting on some oven mitts before pulling the dish out of the oven.

“You're, uh, not allowed to laugh at the name. It's a recipe I got from Bobby, but he got it from the internet or something.”

“Oh God, did you make that goat in the boat dish again?”

“It was toad in the hole, and you loved it!”

“Mm,” Tommy hummed. He got out a couple plates and started plating the food. “What's it called?” he asked again.

“It's... It's called, um, it's Marry Me Chicken.”

After a beat of silence, Buck looked over to see Tommy staring at him, an eyebrow raised. “Evan Buckley, are you proposing to me over a chicken dish?”

Another eye roll. “Absolutely not.”

“You know the saying, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.”

“And all this time I thought it was through his ass.”

“Aye!”

Buck laughed, resting his chin on his hand as he watched Tommy finish up in the kitchen. “There's also some very finely chopped cucumber in the fridge if you'd like that as well, but it's not part of the dish.”

“Still a delightful addition to any meal,” Tommy replied, grabbing the bowl out of the fridge. He balanced it on his wrist before picking up the plates and bringing them to the table. “This looks amazing, Ev.”

“I hope it tastes good.”

“I'm sure it will.”

As Tommy and Buck both began to cut up their pieces of chicken, Tommy glanced over at his boyfriend. “So, um, tonight was... it was a lot.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“I wanted to...” Tommy's voice trailed off, unsure of how to articulate what he wanted to say. He put down his cutlery and focused on Buck. “I was thinking on my walk about how open you've always been, talking about your mom and dad. Even the hard stuff, the uncomfortable stuff, you share it all. I- I haven't done that with you, Evan. That's not fair to you.”

“I've never felt that way,” Buck assured him. “I understood.”

“Still, I- I've always shared everything with you, besides that. It's not even the worst parts of me, really. I know... I know that stuff, when I was a kid, I know none of that was my fault. I think part of me felt like if I ignored it forever, it would eventually go away.” He shook his head. “It doesn't go away.”

Once again, Buck held out a hand for Tommy to take, connecting them on top of the table. “I'm here. Whenever you're ready. Now. Ten years from now. Whenever.”

Ten years from now. Those words hit him hard. He could feel his heart swell.

They were forever. Evan was his forever.

He took a deep breath, his residual anxieties melting away. “There's a lot about my parents you don't know.”

“Practically everything,” Buck agreed.

Tommy let out a laugh. “Well, I'd like to change that,” he replied, sharing a soft smile with Buck.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because we don't have to right now, if you're not ready.”

“No, I'm ready,” he answered. He squeezed Buck's hand tighter. “There's a lot to talk about with my dad,” he started, grabbing up his fork with his free hand to pierce a piece of the chicken, “but I think I want to start with my mom. She was... She was a lot like me.”

Buck nodded, smiling gently. “I love her already.”

[ashwhowrites]

here we go again, sadly it didn’t send

id really like to read about eddie x girlfriend!reader who gets leg, knee & feet pain when walking for too long, too far or stand for big a big amount of time. i struggle with that & would really like to read how eddie would handle that.

imagine that they’re on a walk/hike with the kids & steve etc & they have to sit down after some time & always take a little rest. at one point mike gets annoyed & eddie gives him a speech about how painful the pain can get for his girl. he even carry’s her on his back so she can rest a little longer.

Omg! My knees are the exact same way. I constantly have to sit down

Small little hiking blurb. Flufffffff

When Dustin said he wanted to go for a hike with the whole group, Y/N planned to skip out on it. She knew her legs wouldn't be able to handle that and she didn't want to hold the whole group back, or even just Eddie.

But Dustin begged and begged for her to come. He loved having her around and he didn't want to deal with a pouting Eddie if she wasn't there. Then Eddie gave her the puppy eyes and she could never say no to Eddie.

But as they walked up another hill, she regretted saying yes. They've been on the trail for around twenty minutes so far, and she needed a break ten minutes ago. But she kept quiet, she figured she could power through as much as she could.

"Need a break, baby?" Eddie whispered as he walked next to her. Her hands were on her hips as she breathed heavily.

"No." She said quickly, but the pain on her face told Eddie otherwise.

"Hey, one sec! I need a break!" Eddie said, dropping himself right where he stood. The group stopped walking and sat down as well. She felt thankful Eddie asked for the break. She slowly sat down and stretched out her legs. The slight relief she felt caused a smile on her face.

Eddie held her hand and gave her a wink. She smiled as a thank you. The group talked about random things as they relaxed.

~~~

They've been walking for another twenty minutes, her knees and feet killing her again. She walked slower, causing her and Eddie to fall behind.

"GUYS WAIT! THEY ARE STILL BACK THERE." Dustin screamed, stopping the group from walking as they looked behind them. The group didn't say anything, all waiting patiently as Y/N and Eddie walked up to them.

"Think we could rest here for a second?" Y/N asked. She knew she wouldn't be able to take another step without bursting into tears. She sat down, and the group followed. She heard an annoyed sigh come from Mike but she brushed it off.

~~~

The group had been walking for around forty minutes, and she felt bad to ask for a break again. She hated that she had to stop under an hour every time. The group was making progress but slowly.

"Lunch time!" Eddie announced, helping Y/N walk over to a big rock. She sat down and slowly drank out of Eddie's water bottle. The group all sat down and opened a few snacks.

"Is it? Or does Y/N need a break...again." Mike said, his tone was snarky and mean. He huffed and sat down. Yanking out a bag of pretzels. The group glared at him but Eddie stomped over to him.

"Eddie," Y/N warned but he didn't listen.

Eddie snatched Mike's pretzels, standing over him.

"Hey asswipe, has anyone taught you respect? She has leg problems and this is hard on her. She did this for Dustin and Dustin only. So if he doesn't have a problem, then shut it." Eddie snapped, throwing the bag of pretzels on Mike's lap.

Mike gulped and sat quietly. The rest of the group sat in silence. But Dustin sent Y/N a happy smile.

"I'm happy you're here and doing the best that you can. Breaks are nice." Dustin said.

She smiled gratefully at him.

"Thanks, Dusty."

Eddie glared at Mike the whole time they took a break. Y/N kept nudging him but he refused to look away. Mike kept avoiding eye contact. When half an hour passed, Steve stood up.

"Ready?" Steve asked, looking at Y/N.

"Yeah." Truthfully, she wasn't. Her legs were done for the day but she didn't want to annoy anyone again.

"Time to walk back, think you'll be okay?" Eddie asked, looking down at her as he helped her stand.

"I'm not sure." She whispered, and the group started walking towards the parking lot. She eyed Mike and Eddie figured she was scared to ask again.

"Jump on," Eddie said, bending down as he turned around. She looked at him confused as he squatted in the middle of the woods.

"huh?"

"My back, baby. I'll carry you the rest of the way."

"Eddie no! That'll tire you out." She argued but Eddie wasn't taking it.

"Now." He demanded. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

She braced herself and jumped on his back. His arms were under her knees. It took them a second to get adjusted. But she felt so much relief not to be on her feet. Her hands were together in front of his chest.

"Let's go!" He cheered, racing to catch up. Her laugh caught the attention of the group. All looked back as Eddie ran up to them.

"See! No more breaks, Mike." Eddie sneered, using his girlfriend's foot to smack Mike in the back.

"Munson!" Y/N gasped, scolding Eddie as the group continued to walk.

"Nah, he deserved it," Max said, winking to Y/N.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[writeforfandoms]

Warrior Song 15

Find the series masterlist

Well, we made it to the end of this fic. This is not the last I'll write of Master Chief, but I may take a break for a bit. I think I managed to wrap up everything with this last chapter, but if you have any lingering questions, I'd love to hear them!

Now, let's get this lot squared away, shall we?

Warnings: Swearing, mention of injuries, little bit of politics, everything will be okay.

Word count: 2.7k

By the time you caught up to John, there were a group of Sangheili walking towards him. He didn't have a weapon in hand, so you figured it was safe enough. 

“Master Chief,” the one in front greeted, silvery armor different from what you were used to seeing. “It has been a long time.”

“Arbiter.” Chief inclined his head, ever so slightly. 

“You are a difficult man to find.” 

Chief just shrugged. You held back your laughter. 

“How did you find us?” Fernando joined you on your other side, subtly bracing you to help you get weight off your injured leg. 

“There was unusual slipspace activity,” Arbiter said calmly. “Whoever was controlling the computer was sloppy - pieces fell through, and from them we were able to determine the coordinates of this weapon.” 

You blinked. You’d gotten probably half of that, but you were also exhausted, so. Whatever. 

“We have injured,” Chief cut in, fortunately not looking down at you. “Limited supplies.”

“I have enough to share,” Arbiter agreed easily. “I will summon aid as well from the nearest human ships. In the meantime, you must tell me what happened here.” 

Chief nodded once, taking a step forward. Kelly (who had appeared from nowhere and nearly gave you a heart attack) ushered you and Fernando away, more or less gently. 

“Kelly, what–?” You started to ask, frowning.

“You are supposed to be resting,” she reminded you. “I could always carry you.”

You huffed but didn’t object further. Okay. Fine. So she was right. But you wanted to know what was going on!

Somehow you ended up back in bed, pouting, a tray of food on your lap and Kelly making sure you and Fernando both ate. (Fernando opted to sit on the floor.) 

After the third time you huffed at your food, Kelly huffed back at you. 

“Keep that up and I won’t ask Fred for updates.”

You pouted harder but ate in silence. 

Vaguely, you could hear the camp buzzing around you, excited voices and the stomp of feet and movement all combining into one continuous drone. You’d bet news of the Sangheili ships had spread fast. Or maybe they’d heard about the human ships coming to aid too? How long would that take? How long had you been asleep, even? Long enough for Arbiter to arrive, clearly, but how long had that taken? 

“Stop thinking,” Kelly advised, poking your cheek. 

“Easy for you to say,” you grumbled. And then paused. 

Welp. You were dead. 

Kelly huffed a tiny laugh. “So the explosion did knock the sense out of you,” she teased. 

You had no defense for that, so you just hunkered down in your bed, ears burning. At least you weren’t as sore today, though probably still some level of dehydrated. Your thigh was definitely the worst of your injuries still. 

“Why did you blow up Atriox?” 

The sudden question from Fernando startled you, and you blinked rapidly as you refocused on him. “It seemed like a good idea at the time? And, I mean, it’s not like he was friendly.”

Fernando shook his head. “No, I know that, but why you?”

Oh. That was the issue. You swallowed, looking down at the blanket pulled up over your lap. “It’s not like I sat there and debated the pros and cons,” you started slowly, picking at a loose thread. “It just… happened. I was there. I had a grenade. Nobody else was close enough, and he was doing something, and I couldn’t think of any other way to stop him.” 

Fernando perched next to you, taking one of your hands in his, ducking his head a little to meet your gaze. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, you got out okay, yeah?” 

You sniffled once, hands starting to shake. “Only because of John,” you whispered, shaking your head a little. “It was dumb, but I couldn’t do nothing.”

Fernando wordlessly pulled you into him, one hand patting your back gently but a little awkwardly as you fought back tears. 

“Here. Tea.” Kelly nudged you, ever aware of her strength, holding a mug until you took it. Fernando looked a little relieved, honestly. You couldn’t blame him. 

“Any idea how long things will take?” You took a sip of the tea. A little bland, but warm and soothing. 

Kelly shrugged, a monumental shift of broad shoulders. “Arbiter is chatty. Could be a while. Longer for ships to arrive.” 

Naturally. You made a face but didn’t protest, just drinking your tea. You still felt unsteady, like thinking too hard about anything might tip you out of balance again. Logically, you knew you shouldn’t be surprised - you’d had a harrowing experience that was going to stay with you for a long time.

But logic was hard to come by when you were busy wrestling your emotions back under control. 

The quiet was almost too much, after the stress of the last few days. But it was good, too - at least it meant there wasn’t any further excitement. Against your will, your head started to dip, eyelids growing heavy. The quiet was also very good for making you sleepy, at least when you were running on so little sleep. 

Fernando pushed you to take a nap, promising he’d wake you when something happened. 

So when you did wake up, bleary and confused, to someone sitting next to you, you thought it was Fernando.

“Go back to sleep,” John murmured, voice low and rough. A heavy arm settled over your waist as John laid down behind you, already dressed down.

“What happened?” you asked, voice still thick with sleep. 

“Nothing yet.” He breathed out slowly, tickling the back of your neck. “Sleep.”

You huffed half-heartedly. You wanted more answers. But the furnace-like heat of him was soothing, his even breathing lulling you back to sleep before you could voice a complaint. 

You woke next time over-warm, restless and finally alert again. It took a bit of doing to get out from under John’s arm, but you did it. 

Only to find him awake, lips twitching with the barest of smiles, eyes bright with amusement. You dropped your head, torn between embarrassment and amusement. 

“How long have you been awake?” 

“Long enough.” He didn’t move, just watching you. 

“Good, you can catch me up on everything that I missed yesterday.” You sat up carefully, mindful of your bruises and aches. 

John shrugged, looking up at you while still reclined. “Nothing interesting.”

“Nothing interesting?” Your eyebrows shot up. “Somehow I doubt that.” 

John shrugged again, though his lips twitched. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Arbiter has agreed to give us aid,” he said, either taking pity on you or deciding not to test your patience. “UNSC ships are on the way, but it’ll take time for them to get here.”

You nodded, not quite sure how you felt about that. You’d been away for so long, and then this Halo had become its own kind of existence. You didn’t know what would happen after this, anxiety rising at all the possibilities parading through your mind. 

You breathed in slowly. You didn’t need to have all the answers right now. You were okay. You had time. 

John was watching you, though he didn’t reach for you. He just watched. 

You managed a little smile. “Breakfast?” Sure, you did both need to eat, but also you needed out of this conversation and out of your head. 

That got him moving, and it wasn’t long until the two of you were walking to get food. Your thigh ached, forcing you to go slower than normal, but you grit your teeth and worked through it. John didn’t offer to carry you, which was good because you probably would have hurt yourself smacking him. 

It was odd to see Sangheili around the base, standing taller than most everybody else. They kept out of the way, mostly, though a few of them had humans with them. You couldn’t hear the conversations, but you imagined mostly it was to do with supplies. Probably. 

John still attracted stares, as always, and you could just hear murmurs rippling through camp about the encounter with the Endless. How anybody knew, you weren’t sure, and you weren’t sure you cared to find out. It didn’t really matter, anyway. Soldiers were terrible gossips, so the story was bound to get around and probably even grow. 

But he wasn't the only one attracting stares.

You finally caught on when someone ahead of you in the chow line actually stopped and turned to look at you. Not at John. At you. 

“John,” you whispered, gaze flitting from person to person, uncertain. 

“Ignore them,” he muttered, gaze flicking down to yours before he gently nudged you forward. 

You frowned but didn't say anything more, just getting your food and then finding an empty table. The stares bothered you though, in a way they never had when it was just John people stared at. 

And then Fred plopped down next to you, making the bench shudder under his sudden weight, the bulk of him blocking most of the rest of the room from your view. The arm he threw over your shoulders helped. 

“Good to see you awake,” he rumbled, flashing you a smile. 

“Thanks.” You relaxed, finally doing more than just poking at your food. “What did I miss?”

“Oh, not much.” Fred smirked down at you. “Just that you became a legend.”

You choked on your bite of food. There were several moments of flurry as both Spartans tried to help, until you were no longer choking. “What?” You managed to ask, a little wheezy still. 

Fred and John exchanged a look before Fred cleared his throat. “Well,” Fred started, unusually slowly. “Word has gotten around about your part in defeating Atriox.” 

“I'm sorry, my what? My part?” You couldn't quite help the way your voice slowly went up in pitch. 

“You did roll a grenade under him,” John pointed out, entirely too reasonably. 

“That was hardly anything,” you pointed out, gaze darting between the two Spartans. “I was mostly useless.” 

“You survived.” Fred spoke quietly, almost gently, his gaze fixed on you. 

Your jaw dropped a little and you looked between the two rapidly, not sure how you felt. How you should feel. Your head throbbed, too much too soon, and you shoved away from the table abruptly. It felt like every eye in the mess was on you as you walked swiftly out, palms clammy, breathing fast. 

You didn't want any of this. You hadn't done that for recognition, or anything like that. You'd just wanted to help. 

A call of your name finally jerked you to a halt, and you blinked rapidly. You'd made it almost all the way to the edge of camp, the Pelican not far from you. Fernando watched from the open door, hair extra ruffled. 

“You okay?” He asked, brow furrowing in his concern. 

“Just…” You shrugged, hands flapping uselessly at your side as words failed you entirely. 

Fernando didn't push. Instead he stepped down onto the grass, walking over to you. He looked at you, closely enough that you weren't sure what to think, before he nodded once. 

“I see you learned part of why I avoid the mess.” 

That startled a huff out of you. “I think so,” you agreed, dry but more settled. 

“Come on, got some rations here.” Fernando dropped his arm over your shoulders, leading you into the Pelican. “Did Chief bother to catch you up on the actual news?” 

“I think so,” you murmured, settling easily into the copilot seat and taking the bar that Fernando handed you. “We're getting supplies and stuff from the Sangheili, and human ships are on the way to us.” 

“That's about it,” Fernando agreed. “Joy says it shouldn't be more than a week.” 

“Right!” Joy popped to life between the two of you with an easy smile. “And then everybody will get to go home!” 

Home. The thought filled your chest with an odd ache. You weren't ready to think about home yet. “But we've had so much fun here,” you snarked. “What are we doing about the remaining Endless?”

Joy shrugged, though the look she shot to Fernando was almost worried. “I don't think that's been decided yet.” 

“You are doing nothing,” Fernando scolded, even as he held out a canteen to you. “You are staying where it is safe.” 

You snorted. “I'm staying with John.” 

Fernando eyed you, clearly debating if he could win an argument. His lips twitched. “Stubborn.” 

You laughed quietly. “What's that old saying? Pot something kettle?” 

Fernando just snickered at you. “Finish eating,” he ordered you. “And drink more water.” 

You blinked at him, momentarily nonplussed. “Since when did you get bossy?” But you took another bite of the bar. 

“Since things keep happening and you keep getting hurt.” Fernando watched you to make sure you ate and drank before he finally looked away, satisfied. 

Silence settled between the two of you, comfortable after all this time together. 

You wondered if you'd still be able to find this kind of quiet after the rescue ships arrived. 

“You know you're not going to end up alone, right?”

You jerked your gaze to Fernando, who wasn't even looking at you, but out at the view ahead of you both. It looked deceptively peaceful, with only a few lingering marks of humanity around. 

“I don't…” You swallowed, not sure how to finish that sentence. 

“Chief will follow you wherever you go,” Fernando continued. “And I'm with him. Pretty sure Blue Team follows him too, mostly. So you won't be alone.” 

You breathed through the shock and revelation of that. You'd unpack that issue another day. 

“Neither will you,” you pointed out, giving him the same courtesy of watching the long grass sway. 

Both of you pretended not to notice signs of high emotion in the other. 

Heavy boots coming up the ramp made you both turn, watching as John approached. He didn’t say anything, just stood calmly between the two of you, one hand resting on your shoulder. 

He didn’t magically make things better. The panic still gnawed at your chest, the ache in your thigh hadn’t abated, and the dampness under your eyes hadn’t suddenly gone away. 

But you felt better, anyway. Just having John at your side helped. 

Things weren’t okay, and possibly never would be. But you were all alive. 

That was enough. 

–

It took a week for human ships to arrive.

Arbiter had led an assault against the remaining Endless, with Blue Team of course. You stayed behind, with Fernando threatening to sit on you. You did hear afterwards that there were fewer Endless than anticipated. Kelly seemed relaxed… except for the tap of her fingers against her thigh.

But there was nothing else to be done. If some Endless somehow managed to get off the Halo, nobody knew how, or where they had gone. There was nothing to be done.

It took a little time to arrange evacuation - the wounded went first, then everyone else. Chief, of course, insisted on being on the Pelican, along with Blue Team and yourself. Fernando, of course, was piloting. 

You personally made sure Lindsay and Carter got on board a ship. 

It was odd, seeing the base so empty. Not many were left beyond a few Sangheili and the last of the survivors of the Infinite. 

“Strange, isn’t it?” Fernando murmured, unconsciously mirroring your thoughts, even as he stood next to you.

“It is.” Your lips twisted in some complicated expression. You wouldn’t miss life here. You’d never miss those months of fear and cold and survival. But all the same… “Just as strange to suddenly be going back.”

Fernando hummed soft understanding. “It’s not all bad,” he said with a little teasing nudge of his elbow to your ribs.

“No,” you agreed, hearing John coming up behind the two of you. “Not all.” 

“These are the last to board,” John informed you, one big hand settling at your waist. “The Pelican is loaded.” 

You breathed in deep, slowly. This Halo truly was beautiful. 

Maybe someday you’d be able to look at long grass and flowers again. 

“Let’s go,” you said, turning away from the view to look up at John, staring into the familiar gold of his visor. 

Even though you couldn’t see his expression, you knew he smiled. Just a little. Just for you. “Together.”

[saintsir4n]

CALM DOWN

in which brian gets mad!

___

“Hey! Hey! Back off — Vince outside, put down the vase, you’re not breakin’ shit in my house. Brian go upstairs, Summer you go with him, clean those bruised hands,” Dom’s voice carried through the living room that was practically turned on its head. One small conversation turned into a big argument and then it eventually got physical. “What did I say? No fighting on Sundays. It’s a day for family and you two do the exact opposite, so now everyone cool off until dinner's ready.”

Vince scoffed, his glare never left Brian’s retreating figure until Leon and Jesse pushed him outside. Letty followed Dom, deciding to help him with the rest of the food prep, whilst Mia and KeKe helped pick up anything broken to toss in the trash.

Carson rolled her eyes as she joined Brian in the upstairs bathroom. Her dress would’ve gotten ruined if she hadn’t moved away from her boyfriend who had tussled with Vince until Dom got involved and pulled them apart with Jesse and Leon’s help.

Brian was against the sink, watching as she pulled out the first aid kit in silence, brows pinching together when she didn’t say anything to him, and just sighed to herself.

“You’re gonna give me the silent treatment, really?” He exacerbated, as she pulled out bandaids, cotton pads and hydrogen peroxide.

“Just stop movin’,” she muttered when she got him to wash his hands.

“He insults us and I get the cold shoulder? I don’t believe this, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

She frowned, “There are no sides Brian, and drop that base from your voice, I’m not the problem here.”

He laughed in disbelief, “Oh, and I am?”

“I never said that," she sighed, trying to wipe the cuts as he winced at the pain.

“You’re not denying it," Brian stressed, annoyed that she didn't have a problem with it.

“You didn’t have to react," Carson hated violence and her boyfriend seemed to be constantly around it.

He scoffed, “So I’m just supposed to take his shit.”

“I never said that either," she retorted, "Hold still." Brian cursed when the hydrogen peroxide coursed over his open wounds, "Sorry."

“Then what are you sayin’? ‘Cause to me it just sounds like you think I’m in the wrong," he gritted out, body digging into the sink as he felt some pain. "That I’m the issue, and I should just sit back and let guys like Vince walk all over me.”

She rose a brow, “Guys like Vince?”

He rolled his eyes, “Here we go.”

“Here we go what?” She looked at him, seeing how heated he was getting about this.

“You’re focusin’ on that, really?”

“He’s my family so watch how you talk about him," she exclaimed.

“I’m your boyfriend and you’re actin’ like that don’t mean nothin’”

“You know that’s not true," her shoulders slumped. "You mean so much to me. Brian, you know that.”

“Do I?”

“You know you do.” She paused, pulling out a large bandage and cut it in half, “It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“You didn’t have to punch him," she stressed, applying some cream before wrapping his wounds.

“Yes, I did," he groaned, as she took a step back, “We hold hands and it’s a problem, we smile at each other it’s a problem, You sit on my lap and we kiss suddenly he can’t take it anymore and makes digs. If it’s at me I get it, he hates me, but the second he calls you naive, or an idiot, I'm not gonna sit back and do nothin'."

"Well I can see that," Carson gestured to his sore hands, "and I'm not some pushover, I can handle Vince, I'm just tired of the drama."

"He's the drama," he said, calmer.

"Says the guy with bloody fists," she teased, putting away the first aid kit and coming to stand between his legs.

"Well, they match his busted lip."

She couldn't help but laugh, "I appreciate you defending me, I do."

"I'll always defend you, you know that," Brian wouldn't let any harm come to her, even if it was just stupid words.

"But you need to keep that temper under control, you could've ripped my dress."

"Let me see," he cooed, trailing his hand down to the hem, "Sorry baby."

"Yeah I know, it's fine just calm down sometimes," she pleaded, with a pout.

"I'll calm down when he learns that I can kiss you whenever I want," Brian said, sternly, snaking his arms around her waist, "touch you, take you out and he can't do a damn thing because we're together alright? or I'll start thinkin' he's actin' more like a jealous ex and less like a brother."

"Alright, alright, you’re all cleaned up," she gently patted his chest, "lets go."

"Wait, wait, wait, let me kiss you, before we go down stairs, couldn't wanna get interrupted again would we?"

Carson laughed into the kiss.

—

[mintmatcha]

mint you can't just drop this and not expand for ARAN the loml

The door doesn't have a chance to slam behind you.

"Hey." Aran hurries down the sidewalk after you, tugging his jacket on as he jogs. Your jacket is still sitting on his bed with the rest and you already regret leaving it behind. "Hey."

The man manages to skirt around you, blocking your way. His mouth is contorted into a half grin, half grimace with his eyebrows tweaked up and together, as if he couldn't possibly understand why you're in the street right now.

"Atsumu said you were leaving." He smiles with those perfect, white teeth and those pretty brown lips and it makes your blood boil that he dares to be so effortless. "What's wrong?"

He smells like spiced cologne, something expensive and tasteful. You taste a hint of it when you push past. "I can't deal with you right now."

"What did I do?" he matches your stride, breath coiling into the air as he talks, "If there's something I did-"

"You're just so-- so--" You clutch the air, trying to find words to sum up your multitude of feelings and failing. You settle for the first words that tumblr into your mind and out of your mouth. "You're so fucking annoying."

Aran's gait stutters.

"Me?" he asks genuinely, "I'm annoying?

"Yes, you, Mr. Perfect." You slip your thumb into the back of your heel and pop it off, then the other. The city street's ice cold grit digs into the pad of your foot and you grimace. The walk home is going to be disgusting. "You're so sweet and hot and smart-"

"You think I'm hot?"

"Oh, like you don't know that everyone wants you," you seethe, "Add humble on top of everything. God, it's so aggravating! And you don't even try!"

Aran barks out a laugh, then swallows it back.

"Are you kidding?" Aran says, voice the edge of a chuckle again, "I try so// hard."

That puts a pause in your step. Everything about Aran has always been so effortless, from the way he walks to the way he acts. Every rounded edge of who he is always felt so genuine...

"Oh, please," you dismiss.

"I try all the time! I try constantly!" he sighs, "I follow fashion influencers, I work out every day, I haven't had a beer since I was eighteen, even though I really like like beer-- I even threw a party to impress you, and it clearly didn't work-"

"To impress me?" You try to stay angry, but the boiling inside you is fizzling out, "Why would you do that?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" Aran takes a deep breath, stabilizing himself, "I like you! Oh my god, I like you so much that it makes me look stupid!"

What? Your cheeks are suddenly burning from the attention. Aran suddenly starts pacing back and forth across the width of the sidewalk, eyes locked to the ground as he starts to ramble.

"I went to buy you flowers because that's what guys do, they buy flowers, but one bouquet didn't seem like enough, so I panicked! I panicked! I bought two-- but then I realized I was walking around with two bouquets of flowers like a weirdo and then you made that face-" he finally pauses to take a breath, "That face! Right there! And I couldn't tell you the truth, so I told you they were for my mom and Mrs. Miya! Because I was embarrassed!"

A smile creeps up at the corner of your lips and Aran immediately notices.

"Don't laugh at me!" He points, even though a matching smile is sneaking onto his face, "I'm just a little anxious!"

"You're full-blown neurotic!" You pop into a full-blown guffaw and he follows suit. In the empty city street, the echo of the train carried through the alleys, you both laugh, much, much, harder than you should. By the time you both simmer down, Aran is much closer, the tails of his coat brushing against your leg.

"I'm sorry," he says, soft.

"No, it's-- I'm sorry." You have to try and figure out how you're feeling right now, "Honestly, this side of you is really charming."

"You think that's charming?"

"It's... it's human," you shrug, "I like that."

He reaches out and then hesitates, hand barely past his side. You, despite yourself, despite everything, reach out at loop your pointer around his. Surprise sets into his features, then a hint of joy.

"And here I thought you were hard to impress," he says, "Why don't we...? Can we start again? From the beginning?"

You nod.

"Hey, my name's Aran, nice to meet you." He squeezes your finger lightly, "It's freezing out here, do you want to head inside?"

"I don't usually go home with strangers." Aran squeezes harder at your teasing, "But I'll make an exception if you'll share a beer with me."

"My nutritionist says I really shouldn't-" he smiles and you notice his teeth aren't as perfect as you originally thought. There's a sliver of a gap between his front teeth, "But I can make an acception."

[ikkyfics]

Come back to me

Tom Ryder x fem!reader

Summary: "Why are you here, Tom?" Your voice was firmer this time, despite the pulse hammering in your ears. "Because you left me." He tilted his head, and the slightly joking tone disappeared for a moment. "And honestly, I thought it was clearer that I don't let things get away so easily."

Warnings: none, just Tom being Tom

Masterlist

The sound of knocking on the door echoed through the dark room, interrupting your peaceful night. You settled into the couch, the tub of ice cream balanced in your hands and the spoon between your teeth, frowning. It was too late for visitors. For a moment, you stood still, hoping whoever it was would give up and go away. But the knocking persisted, steady and rhythmic, as if the visitor knew you were home.

Sighing, you put the ice cream aside and stood up, hurriedly adjusting your short pajamas. The soft fabric hugged your skin, the fuzzy socks muffled the sound of your footsteps on the floor. You hesitantly unlocked the door and opened it just enough to peek in.

There, framed by the pale light of the hallway, he stood.

Tom Ryder, with his perfectly trimmed beard, his hair tousled in a calculated way, and that unbearably confident expression. The expensive leather jacket and the impeccable shirt underneath were in keeping with the image of a movie star he carried like a trophy. Even his tailored pants and leather shoes gleamed ridiculously opulent.

“You?” Your voice came out louder than you intended, betraying your surprise.

He smiled, one corner of his mouth turning up, his blue eyes boring into you as if they knew a secret you didn’t. “Now, don’t look at me like that. Are you going to leave me out here? That’s not very polite of you.”

“How… How do you know where I live?”

His smile widened, tinged with an almost irritating smugness. “I know more than I let on, honey.”

You blinked, trying to process the absurdity of the situation. He, the man who had practically turned your life into a circus with his endless post-its and absurd demands, was standing there, in your doorway, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“I… I don’t think…” you started to reply, but he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, as if he was gauging your resistance.

“If you’d rather have our picture taken and it become news tomorrow, fine. But personally, I think it would be better if we talked away from the cameras. Don’t you think?” His eyes trailed down to your ridiculously short pajamas, and when he spoke again, his voice had dropped a few octaves. “And I’d hate for anyone else to see you like this.”

Before you could form a response, he walked past you, his woodsy, expensive scent filling the air between you. Your house suddenly felt smaller with his presence, overwhelmingly filled with an energy that was impossible to ignore.

“Lovely, by the way,” he murmured as he walked toward the living room, glancing sideways at your fuzzy socks with a half smile.

You closed the door behind you, still processing the surreality of the scene, feeling the blood pool in your cheeks. There he was, collapsing on the couch as if he owned the house, his arms resting on the backrest and his legs crossed in a relaxed manner.

“Are you comfortable?” Your question was laced with sarcasm, but he just laughed.

“Much more than you seemed in the office.” He reached out, grabbing the tub of ice cream you’d left on the coffee table. Before you could protest, he dipped the spoon into the ice cream and took a generous bite.

“Strawberry,” he murmured, a smile curving his lips deliberately. “It suits you.”

Heat rose quickly to your face, but you weren’t sure if it was from irritation or the way he said it—his voice low, almost like a purr. He held the tub of ice cream with an irritating ease, as if it were completely normal to break into your house and steal your dessert.

"Hey, you weren't invited to get this!" You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the way he'd settled himself on the couch, taking up even more space, and the way his presence seemed to make the room feel suffocating.

He looked up from the bowl, his blue eyes staring at you with intensity. It was a gaze that stripped you bare, that seemed to register all the details you didn't want him to notice: the short pajamas that exposed your thighs, the skin that heated up under his gaze, as if he were touching you without even moving.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, without a hint of remorse, returning the bowl to the table with sloppy elegance. "But you can't really blame me for this. That ice cream was asking for it."

"Asking for it?" you repeated incredulously, but your voice sounded weaker than it should have.

"Yes. Just like you seem to be asking for a break, my dear. Do you want me to explain myself or are you going to keep looking at me like that?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but couldn't form anything. He leaned back on the couch, his long fingers resting on his bent knee, looking at you with a mixture of amusement and something much darker, almost predatory.

It was overwhelming. The couch seemed too small to contain him, too small for the two of you. Your home had never felt so strange as it did now, filled with his scent and the force of personality he carried.

"Why are you here, Tom?" Your voice was firmer this time, despite the pulse hammering in your ears.

"Because you left me." He tilted his head, and the slightly joking tone disappeared for a moment. "And honestly, I thought it was clearer that I don't let things get away so easily."

"Get away? I'm a person, not a contract!" You snapped, trying to ignore the way he leaned forward slightly, his beard shadowing his jaw in a way that made it hard to look away.

"I know that." His tone softened, but it didn't lose its intensity. "And that's why I'm here. Because… I needed to remind you that no one does what you do. And honestly, I refuse to accept anyone else in your place."

"So this is about work?" You glared at him, crossing your arms again.

"Is it?" He raised an eyebrow, letting the question hang in the air.

Your heart gave an uncomfortable leap in your chest, especially when you noticed his gaze slowly trailing down your face and neck, before continuing to the soft swell of your breasts, covered only by the thin fabric, leaving little to the imagination. It was a second—a moment too quick to be considered deliberate—but it was enough to set your skin on fire.

You wanted to scream, wanted to tell him to go away, but all you could do was look away, only to find him fixed on you again. That smile was back, a teasing half-smile that he made seem natural, but that was carefully calculated.

“Did you bother coming all the way here, in the middle of the night, because you can’t accept someone saying ‘no’ to you for once?” you asked, trying to ignore how your voice had gotten lower.

He laughed, a deep sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s because, as unbearable as you are, you’re the only person who can stand me.”

For a moment, the silence between you was thick, heavy with a tension that felt palpable. Your eyes met, and the space between you on the couch seemed nonexistent. You could feel his heat, every little movement reverberating in the air as if it were amplified.

“So?” he murmured, his tone almost hypnotic. “Are you going to make me beg or are you going to accept that you’ve always been the only person who could put up with me?”

And in that moment, it was impossible to deny the power he had over you—and how annoyingly aware he was of it.

Your heart was beating so hard it felt like it was trying to escape your chest. But you weren’t going to show it. Not to him. Not to Tom Ryder.

He was still sitting on the couch, his legs relaxed, his hands resting on his knees in a way that oozed confidence. But his eyes… Oh, his eyes. They were following you, analyzing you, challenging you.

“If you think I’m just going to go back because you came all this way, you’re more delusional than I thought,” you said, crossing your arms and lifting your chin, though your voice had lost some of the firmness you’d intended to convey.

He tilted his head slightly to the side, a smile playing on his lips, as if you’d just issued a challenge he was more than willing to accept.

“Then I’ll beg you,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, each word laden with a calculated softness that seemed to wrap around you like silk.

“I’m listening,” you snapped, trying to ignore the heat that was creeping up your spine, getting harder and harder to contain.

“You’re the best, you know that, don’t you?” He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his thighs as his eyes held yours like invisible threads. “It’s not just the work you do—although that’s unbeatable. It’s you. How you’re impossible to ignore. How you walk into a room and everything feels different. There’s no one like you, and I won’t find anyone else who does half of what you do. Who is half of what you are.”

His words were like a spell, each one packed with an almost addictive sweetness. And before you knew it, your feet were moving, small, hesitant steps toward him, as if he’d become damn gravity.

“Keep going,” you said, your voice no louder than a whisper.

He smiled, a flash of triumph shining in his eyes as you stopped right in front of the couch, between his long legs. "Do you have any idea what it's like to look at you and know that I can no longer count on your patience? Your… strength? You're the kind of woman who makes any man lose his mind, and you know it."

The air between you seemed to vibrate. He lifted his hands, his deft fingers touching the fabric of your pajamas in an almost experimental way. Just one touch, and you could already feel the heat radiating across your skin. He laughed, a low, husky sound, before letting his hands slide to your hips, steadying himself there. The pads of his fingers tracing lazy half-circles.

The touch wasn’t invasive; it was deliberate, almost reverent. But the heat he brought was overwhelming.

“Tom…” You began, but the word died on your lips when he tilted his head up, his eyes now dark with an intensity that seemed to burn.

“I need you,” he said, his tone so low you could barely hear him. “And I don’t just mean work. I mean you. I want you to come back. To me.”

The world seemed to stop. The heat of his hands on your skin was unbearable, his fingers just enough to remind you that he was the one touching you. His smile, his voice, his eyes—everything about him seemed to conspire against your sanity.

But the worst part was that you liked it. You liked the way he seemed unable to hide how much he wanted you, liked the power it gave you, even when he was the one who seemed to be in control.

His fingers tightened on your hips, firm, as if to reinforce the urgency in his words. The touch carried something more than a request; it was a demand, a reminder of how much he wanted you, how much he needed you.

“Will you come back to me?” His voice was barely a whisper now, but it carried an urgency that made you tremble.

You tried to resist, tried to remember all the reasons he was insufferable, all the times you wanted to scream at him—but none of that seemed to matter now. The warmth of his hands on your skin, his eyes burning into yours, the woody, expensive scent that surrounded you… it was overwhelming. Far beyond anything you could ever dream of bearing.

A weak "yes" escaped your lips before you even had time to realize what you were saying.

That was all he needed.

Before you could react, he pulled you firmly to him, positioning you on his lap in one fluid movement, as if you were made to be there. The initial shock was replaced by an overwhelming heat as his hands moved from your hips to your back, holding you with a strength that seemed to say he wouldn’t let go any time soon. Your hands gripped his broad shoulders in an attempt to find some balance, your breath coming in short gasps from the intensity of the moment.

“Finally,” he murmured, his tone filled with an almost dangerous satisfaction, before pulling you into a kiss.

There was no room for caution or hesitation. His kiss was desperate, almost savage, as if he had been waiting for this for years. It tasted sweetly like strawberry ice cream. His lips were warm and demanding, and you barely managed to hold back the moan that escaped you when you felt his beard lightly scratch your skin, adding a touch of roughness to the contact. You felt his fingers curl into the bare skin of your waist, as if he wanted to leave a mark.

Your fingers moved instinctively, tangling in his hair, tugging lightly, as if they needed to anchor him there. He responded to the touch with a low sound in the back of his throat, a sound that made every cell in your body vibrate.

His hands didn’t stop, exploring your back, moving up and down with a possessiveness that made your heart race even faster. It was as if he was trying to merge the two of you, holding you as if he feared you would disappear. The room seemed to have disappeared; the entire world had been reduced to the heat of his body against yours, to the taste of him, to the way he held you as if you were the most precious thing he had ever touched.

When you finally broke apart, it was only for the need of air. But he didn’t pull away, his forehead lightly touching yours, his blue eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your breath falter.

“I warned you,” he said, his voice husky and full of desire. “I don’t let go of what’s mine.”

And in that moment, it was impossible to tell who was in control. Because no matter how hard he’d pulled you in for the kiss, no matter how hard he’d initiated it, it was you who seemed to have the power to make his heart beat as fast as yours.