#wildest dreams series

[imaginedreamwrite]

Wildest Dreams: Part 4

It seemed like weeks since they had found you in the library and tried to trap you, the two massive alphas who had practically been dry-humping in the aisle that you were needing to get into, but in reality it was a little over a week.

You had exited one of your physiology classes only to be flagged down by one of the junior receptionists that worked directly for the dean. She had caught you before you could head to your second class, and had in not so many words, informed you that the dean needed to talk to you.

You’d thought that maybe there was a problem with your admittance papers, or there could have been a few issues with your classes since you’d been told they were reaching peak registration numbers. What you had been thinking was on an entirely different level and scope than what was waiting for you when you arrived at the dean’s office.

The first indication that the older alpha and dean were not alone, was the wavering and wandering scents of the two alphas who had cornered you in the library. The first integral notes that had infiltrated your nose were confusing at best, given that you had no reason to be here with them unless the head librarian had made a complaint about you from the week before. Still, it hadn’t eased you.

Still, as you had entered the office and had taken the seat to the far right of Bucky you were not unbound.

You were confused, you were anxious and you had been stuck between wanting to throw your book at Barnes’ big head and fleeing the room as the scent of alpha became overwhelming.

“Hey bean-“

“Don’t talk to me.” You cut Bucky off with a tense snap, your entire body and hindbrain firing off neurons that only added to your feeling of unsettled composure.

There were too many alphas in the office that wasn’t nearly big enough to give you ease or peace of mind. It was much too concentrated to focus on anything but the way Steve and Bucky’s scent had reacted in time with your own, and the dean was looking between you expectantly.

There was a moment of awkward silence that fell between the four of you, as you waited for the news of why you were here to come to light. You had no possible idea why you were called to the office or why the two meatheads were here with you, the junior secretary had revealed nothing, and with no given clue as to why you were called, you were becoming more agitated and put off the flurry of scents.

It was only after the dean of the university had leaned forward and rested his elbows upon the desk, tucking his hands under his chin, that he had addressed you with a clearing of his throat.

“Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes are in need of a tutor in order to continue playing with the football team, they need to maintain a GPA of 4.2 and they’re sitting at 3.9. You were recommended by a few professors here and because of your connection-“

You felt the heat, bubbling and boiling anger poignant under your flesh as you grit your teeth and sucked air in through your flaring nostrils. You had bounced your heels against the floor as you fidgeted while listening to the dean yammer on about the pride the university had in their football team, and the great importance that having two players like Barnes and Rogers on the team.

He had continued, applying pressure to you to give in without formally asking you, all while the sound of his voice and his grading scent was fuelling your internal engine that would eventually lead to an outburst. You were biding your time, you were positively stewing from the weight of this news.

And you couldn’t cognitively explain why.

“We need the help, omega bean.” Bucky had fixated his gaze upon you, watching you with widening eyes and a droop of his bottom lip into a pout that had simultaneously made you more irritated than before and empathetic to their cause.

“We can’t play if we don’t raise our GPA.” Steve had also allocated a pout, and his blue-green eyes had become wide and doll-like.

You knew they loved the game, you knew they were talented and incredible at the sport. You knew they had to be extremely talented to have made the team in the first place, but to then have the admiration of so many people in and out of the school? That kind of talent and skill was impressive and had stirred support that was as powerful as it was poignant. They loved it, and they needed you.

Still, you were annoyed.

Was it because of the insistence that you and the two alpha form a bond again? Was it the feeling that this was all contrived by your parents and the past you shared? Or were you so annoyed and triggered by their presence because you recognized the familiarity you shared when you were younger? Was it your stubbornness that wouldn’t let you get past this re-admittance into your life?

“-you’ll receive extra credit toward your degree for your hours put into tutoring Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes-“ The dean continued to speak even as you had shoved your chair back and stood with your bag resting on your hip, and Steve and Bucky looking your way.

“It would’ve been nice to be asked instead of coerced into it.” You slammed your hand upon the flap of your bag, feeling the weight of your physiology and biology textbook that you’d used no less than ten minutes ago while wondering if you could get away with bashing them over the head with it.

“Omega Bean-“

“I’ll help you, not because I like you.” You smacked Bucky’s hand away when he tried reaching for you, warmth and piercing irritation stirring your ire like hot coals. “You miss one study session and it’s over, I won’t let you waste my time.”

You were overwhelmed by the scents of alphas, you needed out and you needed to breathe in a more even mix. You had stepped outside and slammed the door behind you hard enough to rattle the doorknob and the windows in the office. You had stumbled forward while your legs shook, desperate to get rid of their heady mix and get outside into the fresh air, your feet carried you until you hit an invisible wall and found yourself unable to move any further.

“We didn’t do this on purpose.” Steve jogged after you, coming to a stop just as you had a few feet away, his scent coming unhinged and still as potent yet it made you feel less stifled and more invigorated.

You had slowly exhaled and pivoted partially toward him, your hands clenching and leaning in a slow rhythm, his eyes fixated on you while your eyes had bounced around his face and shoulders, unable to focus on one thing for too long.

“Bucky and I, we’re not….trying to manipulate you. I know what you’re thinking, both of us know-“ you turned and darted away from him again, taking the nearest exit with a fire under your ass.

You pushed open the fire door and let it slam behind you, the metal clicking into place only to be opened again a few moments later. The sound of the door opening for the second time had echoed in your head just as the sound of their footsteps on the concrete had called out to your hindbrain like some kind of siren song to take control of your body.

“Y/N, stop!” Bucky had spoke up, Bucky had given the alpha command that slid too easily into your hindbrain and was accepted far too easily by those primordial and basest urges.

“Can you just talk to us? We’ve barely been able to keep up a conversation with you.”

They encroached, they drew closer and you were enveloped by their scents like you had been in the office only there wasn’t such a tarnished concentration as before. This was easier than before, even if you hadn’t wanted to be in their presence at all, at least their scents weren’t aggravating.

“I don’t want to talk to you, have you ever thought of that? Have you taken a moment to think that maybe I don’t want anything to do with you?” You turned on your heel, quickly coming to face them head on while also leaning into the stubborn nature that was inflicting you with such strong resistance.

The truth was, that having them pursuing you, it made you feel weak. Having them actively trying to worm their way back into your good graces and into your life, in general, was more than you could handle right now. Steve and Bucky wanting to pick up whatever you had in daycare when you were five, it had felt like you were standing on the edge of a high board, ready to dive into the water but being too afraid to look over the edge.

You knew that eventually you would have to go over, eventually you would have to take the plunge but it was your fear and your anxieties that kept you from completely giving in.

“Come on, you know that’s not true-“ You screamed in frustration and slipped your bag off your shoulder, whacking Steve in the side with your physiology and biology textbook as you countered his claim.

“It is true! I don’t want to be around you! You and your annoying little posse of cheerleaders and constant fuck cycle!” you huffed and whacked him once more before you turned sharply and started stalking away, only to stop again and turn back to look at both of them.

“That’s what you’re so mad about? You think we slept around with the cheer squad? JellyBean, those girls are our friends-“ Bucky had begun laughing, a sweeping chortle making his shoulders shake while Steve had winced and waved at Bucky to shut up.

“And the other omegas? The other girls who like to comment on your stupid instagram page-“

“Steve and I only fuck each other. Occasionally we have a third but-“ Bucky groaned when Steve had smacked his chest with enough power to knock the wind out of him, but the damage was done.

You had groaned and huffed again, stomping your feet dramatically like you had when you were younger. They let you leave, they let you walk away while they watched you and the steam billow out from your ears as you huffed and puffed about the two alphas who were caught under your skin.

They waited a few minutes before they had begun trailing on after you, walking the same path you had until you turned a corner and headed straight into one of the coffee shops on campus. Bucky and Steve had watched and waited as you took a table near the back and dumped your bag onto the seat, sitting with another, silent to them, huff and a purse of your lips.

None of this was going like they wanted, none of this had played out like what was in their heads and given how excited they were for you to be back it had felt like a harsh blow. There had been a long stint between daycare years and university, with most of the time passing as you were across the country from Steve and Bucky while they had each other.

It was, in part, a necessary evil to save you three from being socially isolated in a formed pack, but while Steve and Bucky had each other you had no one.

“We have to talk about it eventually.” Steve had grabbed Bucky’s hand to yank him into the coffee shop, the bell above the door announcing their presence but you had sparsely lifted your head.

You had only glanced at them when they approached the table as a pair and remained quiet and solemn. You had leaned back against your chair and crossed your arms over your chest, giving the two of them a deeply seeded glare that was akin to something cute and sweet trying to look deadly.

“We’re sorry,” Steve had cleared his throat and attempted an apology, settling one hand upon the back of the chair, “for…being stupid.”

“That’s a lifelong disease, Rogers. Being stupid.” You snipped and bared your teeth, your ire and anger as an omega was almost as deadly as theirs as alphas and you hadn’t needed to get physically violent. Again.

“Can we talk, please? explain ourselves?” Bucky started to slide the chair out from under the table, only to cease his actions when you whipped your head in his direction and let out a soft little growl of your own that had sparked little noughts of desire.

“We’ll buy you hot chocolate, and something to eat.” Steve attempted to smooth you over, with a bashful smile and a wave of his hand toward the counter. “You still like crushed candy cane and whipped cream, right?”

“My next class got cancelled.” You huffed and grit your teeth. “You have two and a half hours, and if I don’t want to listen-“

“You can leave anytime.” Bucky had quipped, adding the little bit as he took his seat across from you and then craned his neck back, grabbing Steve’s wrist to stop him from moving. “Grabbing me something, Stevie?”

“Are you going to pout if I don’t?” Steve grumbled, yanking his hand from Bucky’s wrist and rolling his eyes when he fell silent. “Why do I even bother asking?”

The cacophonous scents that had irritated you earlier had now dissipated and was replaced with the aroma of brewed coffee and slightly burnt sugar, the blend of teas and additives to the tops of their seasonal drinks that you had focused on.

And then Steve and Bucky’s scents crept back up and overpowered it all, leaving you feeling as if you could have purred and revelled in its comfort since your heart, brain and hindbrain all seemed to be discordance with each other.

“We didn’t sleep around, I should clarified-“ Bucky’s voice was akin to honey, laced with the kind of sweetness that was natural for an alpha trying to connect with an omega.

“Your friend…Rhys-“

“Rhys! Yes!” Steve spoke with overexcitement, knocking his knee against the underside of the table, a sharp whine falling from his lips.

“Rhys, the cheerleader, she found me after you left. But then I saw all these other comments-“ you sighed, your eyebrows furrowed. “We’re not friends, we haven’t been friends-“

“Steve and I have only been with each other, and occasionally we’ll sleep with an omega when our ruts are really bad.”

Bucky reached out and rest his hand upon yours, only connected for a moment before you yanked your hand back. “Sorry. Sorry…”

“She said you’re like their brothers, and that most of them are in relationships.” You steeled your gaze toward Bucky, yanking yourself and your coffee back to create more distance. “But you still have all those girls hanging off of you, your little fan club-“

“Omega Bean, we waited for you. We would never-“

“Yeah? Did you?” You snapped again, bearing your teeth with bite and ire. “You had each other. I had no one. You at least got to grow up together while I was ripped away and moved across the country.”

“You know what our parents said-“ Steve had reached for you again, his fingers grazing your forearm. “I’m sorry we had to leave, but you’re here and we can start off-“

“No,” you cut him off, confused by your feelings and the screeching of your hindbrain to just give in, “no we are not diving back in. Not where we left off. Absolutely not.”

“Friends then?” Bucky stole your attention, smiling charmingly and beautifully. “No courting, no dates. Just…friends? And a tutor..?”

“I’m so pissed at you, I could throttle both of you.” You growled, still as intimidating as a little bunny, but if it made you feel better they would’ve heard it all day.

“You got Steve already.” Bucky grinned, boyishly chortling under his breath. “I don’t remember you being so strong.”

“Bucky-“

“Yeah? You’re next Barnes.” You grabbed your bag and lifted it over your shoulder, letting it fall against your hip. You stood and grabbed your coffee and your untouched pastry, clinging to both as you stood but hadn’t left.

“Friends?” Bucky batted his eyelashes at you, pouting and pleading in a very un-alpha like manner.

“You really waited? You had no one else?” You questioned, your guard slipping for a moment.

“Of course we did.” Steve’s voice had grown softer, his eyes just as tender and sweet. “I can count on one hand-“

“We missed you.” Bucky grabbed your wrist, his thumb brushing against your veins as he scented you. “We missed you every day, omega bean.”

It brought you comfort and warmth, and you had to mentally berate yourself not to close your eyes and revel in it.

“Friends. Barely friends.” You jabbed your finger into Bucky’s chest, your eyes narrowing into a glare that was neither intimidating nor deadly. “And we start studying Thursday.”

“We have practice Thursday.” Steve spoke, sliding the calendar over to you. “Friday and Saturday’s are saved for games-“

“Fine. Wednesday then,” you spoke again, with a little more fierce, “I can only do Monday and Wednesday.”

“Since we’re friends…” Bucky slowly stood, trapping you between the next table and his chest. “Would you consider coming to our practices and games?”

“Our first game is this week. Start of the season-“

“-fine.” You stepped around Bucky and began walking toward the door, stopped once more by the sound of his voice.

“Would you consider friends with-“ you turned and looked over your shoulder, a laugh bubbling on your tongue as Steve slapped his hand over Bucky’s mouth to shut him up.

“Silence,” you laughed under your breath, “it’s a real good look on you, Barnes.”

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[guiltyasdave]

For the wip game, I humbly ask for a crumb of "wildest dreams" 🥺

(love your writing, thanks!!)

thank you anon! 🥹🤍

wildest dreams is @joelscurls and my love child with our take on the dad’s best friend trope, featuring our favorite murder daddy dave. i don’t want to reveal too much of the plot, but believe me that we’re constantly driving each other insane in the dms and taking both the filth and the angst to new levels 🫠

here’s a teeny tiny crumb because i have zero self control:

[kevin-the-bruyne]

i just cannot get over how change2561 not only lied about the mpreg but just lied about it being omegaverse overall?? They were like calling all SPORTS lovers you will enjoy this RACING BL that has NO secondary genders or pregnancy whatsoever.

then they doubled down on it AFTER it started airing???? They said!! They said there might be alphas but its not an omegaverse alpha I promise!!!! They said!!! I promise there are no magical wombs!!!

But there is!!! There IS a magical womb and not only is it there, its the CENTRAL PLOTLINE????!!???!?!!!!

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Wildest dreams, pt. 32 (Paul Lahote)

Summary: Rebuilding their relationship is slow, but worth it. They struggle to find their footing as life goes on, sharing what's on their mind and weighing on their hearts.

Warnings: angst, fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing, GRAPHIC depictions of death and blood

Wildest Dreams Masterlist

————————————

It’s been a few days since Paul promised he’d ask Y/N’s permission to host a birthday dinner. Daisy has texted him at least a dozen times by now, demanding details he cannot provide. Some would say he’s afraid to ask, but that’s not the core issue here. The key to this puzzling silence on his behalf lies in the way Y/N is sitting on his lap, running her soft hands over his as she lathers them in sweet-scented hand cream. A soft smile lingers upon her supple lips and her eyes shyly shift to his curious ones so often he’s barely able to keep his composure. All he wants is to taste her again, to feel her responding to his advances the way she once did – hungrily, unapologetically, wildly, and often. There were days he was concerned about how often she initiated sex…he missed those days. And now when they’re rebuilding intimacy brick by fragile brick, Paul isn’t all too happy about it being put at risk because of Daisy and her inability to give others space.

“You’re staring,” she raises her left eyebrow.

“How can I not?”

Biting his bottom lip, Paul suppresses a smile. Seeing it as a challenge, Y/N cups his cheeks. Brushing the tip of her nose against his, she grins as he releases his tortured bottom lip a shade darker, lightly swollen, and kissable…so incredibly inviting.

“Now who’s staring?” Paul teases as his hands grip her hips.

“How can I not?” She mimics. “You’re incredibly beautiful and you’re mine.”

Unable to resist, Paul’s lips spread in a smile she’d been craving. She can see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. When she lost her sparkle and stopped smiling, his faded as well. It’s truly rewarding to make an effort to get better when it reflects so perfectly in Paul.

“I am.”

“Mine?”

“Incredibly beautiful,” he exclaims, evoking a laugh from her he hasn’t heard in a long time. It’s bright and playful and she’s throwing her head back and he can’t help but laugh with her. Y/N’s laugh is Paul’s serenity and a sign she feels safe with him. Oftentimes Paul caught himself wondering if Y/N trusts he can keep her safe as he once promised her. There’s not a single part of him that trusted himself to be able to do as much, but it would kill him if she doubted him too.

Resting her forehead on his, Y/N lets out a soft exhale, her hands sliding lower until her fingertips rest on his jawline.

“Yours,” he murmurs. “Always have been, always will be.”

“Thank you,” Y/N’s voice is weak, as if her soul trembles for reassurance Paul was certain he’s diligently given time and time again. But if she needs to hear it more often, he’ll give it to her.

“Don’t thank me. Why are you thanking me?”

“For not regretting having me as an imprint.”

“I could never regret you,” Paul takes her face in his hands. Can’t she see she’s his entire world? “Look at me,” Paul orders but she squeezes her eyes shut. “Hey, hey,” he says firmly. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, she does as told. Her lips part slightly in anticipation.

“Every day I get to spend with you is another day I cherish life, love, and destiny. I didn’t believe in that shit!” Chuckling, Paul shakes his head. “Don’t you see? You made me believe in love and destiny and actually speak that into existence! There’s no one else on this planet that I would let hear me being this sappy.”

“It is a little sappy,” she jokes and he chuckles heartily.

“Well, you’re gonna pay for that.”

Raising her eyebrows, she smirks. “And how exactly are you going to make me?”

Pursing his lips, Paul pulls up his legs, his knees coming up right from behind her back enough to push her firmly into his chest.

“Crushing me? That’s your perfect plan?”

Giving her thighs a squeeze, he nods. “In a way.”

Before she had a moment to think, Y/N yelps as she lands on the soft mattress, Paul on top of her. His body weight presses her into the bed, genuinely crushing her to death. So why does it feel so good? Her nightgown moved aside, revealing a part of her right breast and Paul’s licking his lips as he cracked a smile unable to keep his eyes from wandering lower to her chest. He wants nothing more than to possess Y/N again, to feel her writhe beneath him as she comes undone. Lost in his soul’s desire, his mouth comes down hard on hers, claiming them, nearly bruising them. Restraint crumbles beneath the weight of pent-up longing, and his lips mold to hers with an urgency that borders on primal. The kiss, though almost brutal in its intensity, is an act of reclamation, a fervent assertion of belonging.

He loses himself in the warmth of her breath, in the softness of her lips yielding beneath the onslaught of his need. The world outside this stolen embrace ceases to exist. His hands find refuge in the tousled strands of her hair, fingers tangling and releasing in a rhythm dictated by their synchronized heartbeats.

An inkling of common sense washes over him, pushing himself off her instantly. Laying on his back, beside Y/N, Paul covers his face. He allowed himself to lose control long enough to forget about her boundaries, about her wishes. It was a game that turned into so much more far too quickly and he lost himself long enough to act like a predator catching up with the prey.

“I’m sorry,” he swallows thickly, unable to look at her as a cold wave of regret washes up at the shores of his conscience. What started as a game, a dance on the precipice of shared longing he’s allowed to spiral into something he never intended. In this vulnerable moment, Paul grapples not only with the awful breach of invisible boundaries he feels were drawn since their almost wedding, but with the fear of disappointing her, of shattering the trust carefully woven between them.

Y/N doesn’t respond, but the weight on the mattress shifts and then it’s on top of him. Looking at her through his fingers, Paul can’t believe the sight. She’s entirely bare before him, her breasts on display, and her hands are pulling down his boxers faster than he can comprehend.

“What are you doing?” Paul’s voice is laced with curiosity and caution.

“What you’re scared of doing,” she remarks. Her movements are deliberate, determined to bridge the emotional chasm she feels separated them as they finally made some progress.

Grabbing her hands tightly, he sits up with a frown etched upon his forehead. “Stop that and talk to me.” His words sound like a tender echo in the room.

Chuckling dryly, she shakes her head. She meets his gaze unclouded by shame or disappointment. Instead, it holds a quiet reassurance. “That’s the point, Paul. I don’t want to talk, or think, I just want you.” His face is set in a firm, serious expression as she rolls her eyes at him. “I want you inside of me;” she clarifies, as her hands reach for his, intertwining in a gentle grasp.

“If that’s what you want,” he nods.

“Do you?”

“More than you could ever know.”

She pulls him to her, seeking his mouth. He laughs at her grasping hands, teasing her, but there’s no ridicule in his chocolate eyes. There’s only the wish to prolong their pleasure. A sparkle comes alive in her eyes, and Paul knows she will have the last laugh. Her hands move downward. When she finds what she wants, there is no more laughter in his eyes. They are black with passion as he pushes her down beside him.

It isn’t long before their pleasure reaches its high and they’re both released from their sweet torment. Y/N feels drained, her bones weak as Paul moves partially aside, though his leg is still across her calf, his arm across her breasts.

“That was -” Paul begins.

“Long overdue,” she exclaims. “I don’t think we’ve ever done it this quickly!”

“As long as we both finish,” he notes happily.

“How are you so sure I did?”

Paul smirks. “Oh, I know.”

Brushing his hair back, she sighs. “I love you.”

“Even with the beard?”

Giggling, she nods. “Even with the beard!”

“Good, good. Guess I’m going to throw away the shaving cream I bought this morning.”

Pecking his shoulder, Y/N places a hand over Paul’s chest. “Definitely. You’re not shaving until we see how well that beard works for me in other places when we take things more slowly next time.”

His chest quakes under her fingertips as his laughter fills the room. The birthday dinner can certainly wait until morning because there’s nothing in this world worth endangering the sweetness of this moment.

The problem is, the sweetness of that moment repeated often throughout the morning and then it lasted the entire day. Like catching up on lost time, Y/N and Paul spent the next day wrapped up in each other until they physically couldn’t move anymore.

“I’m pretty sure they’ll send out a search party for us,” Y/N snickers as Paul swipes away all the unread messages on his screen.

“If it was urgent, someone would be at the door by now.” Burying his head in her neck, Paul inhales her deeply only to realize she almost entirely smells like him. Playfully biting at her soft skin right above the collarbone, he licks the teeth marks left behind.

“I’m not even gonna say anything,” she snorts before checking her phone as well. “Well, they’re definitely relentless.”

“Mhmm,” Paul murmurs between feather-light kisses he’s leaving across her chest.

“What dinner are they talking about in the group chat?”

Pausing, Paul looks at her through his lashes. “Fuck. I forgot.”

“Well, now that you remember, fill me in.”

“They want a dinner party for your birthday. I promised them I’d ask you, but then –“

“I screwed your brains out?”

“Something like that,” he grins, “wait, that’s exactly what you did.”

Running her fingers through his hair, she sighs contently. “I think I’d be up for a dinner. Nothing glamorous, no gifts necessary. Just a dinner with friends.”

“I don’t think gifts are optional.”

Chewing on her bottom lip, she inhales deeply. “Fine. Fine. I can handle some gifts. Just promise me you’ll get me out of there if my social battery runs out.”

Pressing his lips in a thin line, Paul furrows his eyebrows.

“We’re hosting it, aren’t we?” She grimaces with realization.

“I think so.”

Staring at the ceiling, her fingers coil around the ends of Paul’s dark hair. “Tell them it’s a go, but you definitely owe me five more orgasms to be okay with hosting.”

Chuckling, he pecks her chin. “It will be my pleasure.”

When the day came, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by noon. She sent Paul to the store at least five times, constantly finding something new she could make for the pack on her phone to the point he confiscated it.

“Maybe I can make the mac n’cheese?” Paul suggests.

Pausing, with her hand on her hip, Y/N snorts. “Sure. We have time for the fire department to show up for dinner too. Might have to make a little extra. Would be rude not to invite them for dinner when they’re already going to be here.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Paul says nothing as he gives her a pointed look. She looks surprisingly put together considering she spent the day cooking. Most times he’d let the comment made go, but this time he was waiting for an apology, one he hoped she’d realize he’s owed.

Tossing the oven mitts on the table, she sighs. “Pasta isn’t your dish, babe. I love you and your cooking, so if you wanna help, pasta is not on the menu. Butttt a potato salad is and I’d really appreciate it if you made it the same way you did last month because I craved it for a week.”

Huffing, he nods. They had ONE incident with pasta and it’s only because he forgot to put the water in the pot before he lost control and shifted. The look on her face when she realized he was a wolf while smoke was bellowing from the kitchen window had him staying away from the kitchen for months on end.

“Sure,” he releases a tired sigh. Instead of turning it into an argument, Paul decided to just keep quiet. This dinner clearly triggered her in a somewhat different way; where he expected depression and doing it all himself with Emily’s tips and tricks, he received an overly anxious perfectionist who was driving him insane. But it’s her birthday…the first one since she lost her dad. It doesn’t matter how old you are when you lose a parent, especially when it’s the last parent you had, there will be a sadness that clings to your heart for a long time after. He remembers losing his mom, and later his dad, and he wasn’t prepared for either death. To this day, Paul wishes he had more time to spend with them, to ask them why.

Why didn’t his mother tell him she was dying of cancer when she decided to send Paul to live with his father? He could have been there with her in the last months of her life, to have used the time she had left better. That’s a luxury they stole from him…the luxury he didn’t have with his dad at all. The only comfort he has is how quick his father’s death was compared to his mother's. Sudden cardiac death takes moments, not excruciatingly painful months as metastatic breast cancer does.

So, yes. Paul has more understanding than Y/N thinks. The first birthday isn’t easy, especially for someone who has a close relationship with their parent. She hasn’t taken a proper breath the whole day, wasting away precious moments they could have spent together.

When he woke up, Paul found their bed empty. He cannot even try to guess how long she’s been up cooking and cleaning, all of the things he planned to do. He wanted to cook for her, for them all. Paul wanted to make this day as easy as possible for her, but he should have known better. Y/N does everything well, but relaxing is not her strongest suit.

“Jacob said he’s bringing a cake,” Y/N breaks the silence. “Apparently, Alice had seen it in her vision and bought it.”

“That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah,” she turns to face him. “Is it weird we didn’t invite the Cullens? I kind of feel bad for excluding them.”

Licking his lips, Paul shakes his head. “We’re all perfectly happy to be on friendly terms, but I wouldn’t put a family of vampires in the same room with shapeshifters who’re struggling with old urges right now. You did well.”

“Is it really that bad?” Y/N places the spoon on the counter, approaching Paul with genuine worry reflecting in her eyes. “Are you struggling?”

“Every day,” he admits with a tightlipped smile.

“You never told me,” she realizes. “I really need to do better.”

“It’s fine.”

“I wish it was,” she frowns. “What else do you struggle with?”

Glancing at her, he shrugs meekly. “I don’t think we should be having this conversation now.”

“Why?” Swallowing thickly, Y/N leans on her forearms. When Paul remains silent, she bows her head low. “I’m just gonna ask then. Are you still having those nightmares?”

Noticing his hand stop stirring, Y/N’s eyes widen. Paul’s jaw clenches and her lips part. They’re not out of the woods yet. She’s still marked for death. If anything, her father delayed her death for a little while. There’s not a single part of her that doubts she was the intended victim, but her father managed to protect her the only way he could – by sacrificing his own life.

Flashes of his ripped-open throat have her grabbing onto her stomach as nausea forces bile up her throat. Unable to run to the bathroom, it spills past her mouth into the sink and before she has a chance to take her next breath, Paul’s warm hand is splayed between her shoulder blades and the other is holding her hair back.

“Ugh,” she groans. “Throwing up in the sink is so fucked up,” she tries to laugh only to gag as she senses the smell of stomach acid. Paul lets the water run, running a wet hand across her face and neck. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I throw up thinking about it too.”

Looking up at him, she leans into his chest. “You could have said something.”

“Your dad was killed. It’s not a burden I was looking to share when you were already struggling.”

Inhaling sharply, she wraps her arms around him. “I’m strong enough,” she states. “I promise you can stop treating me like I’ll break if we argue or you have something on your mind. I don’t care how bad it is, I’m here for you.”

“Talking about your death isn’t something I like to do,” Paul pulls back lightly, his scowl playing with her heartstrings. He’s been so strong, but when will he let down his armor again? It can’t be good for him to bottle all this up.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“We’re having people over in two hours,” Paul reminds her.

“And we have made like five dishes already. We can order pizza if they eat everything prepared.”

Paul smiles seeing her relax for the first time that day. This is the Y/N he’s been missing. “The beach?”

“Of course!”

As the sun begins its descent beyond the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, they walk along the shoreline, entwined hands swaying gently like the rhythm of the waves as the ocean breeze plays with their hair. Little is said about the darkness they need to share, deciding to table it for another day. This is meant to be a moment for just the two of them – the couple who fell in love against all odds and chose to love each other every day continuously.

“It’s weird how this was meant to be the place we say our vows in,” she muses.

Pulling her closer, Paul closes his eyes. “Would have been beautiful,” the ache of unrealized dreams carries in his voice.

“I was so ready to call you my husband,” she confesses with a teasing smirk, a glimmer of playful light in her eyes.

Biting his lower lip, his eyes reopen, finding solace in the depth of hers. “I was already calling you my wife that day. It felt right.”

Staring at each other as the sun goes down, they smile longingly as if each glance is a rediscovery of love after the tragedy that stained their happiness.

“Let’s get married,” Y/N declares.

“I’d love to,” Paul places his hands on her hips, lightly pulling her in front of him.

“No, I mean would you like to marry me tonight?”

Caught off guard, Paul coughs as he nearly chokes on his saliva. He grabs her shoulders for support before cupping her cheeks, bending his neck to meet her eyes with furrowed brows. “Are you fucking with me?”

“I’m serious! We can have Sam marry us and then just file the paperwork tomorrow. I mean we have the marriage license; it’s not rocket science.”

Paul, running his tongue across his lips, takes a few bewildered steps to the left. Shaking his head in disbelief, he glances at her repeatedly, searching for any sign of it being a joke. But this isn’t a joke, this is real.

“Okay,” he finally utters, the shock evident in his nod.

“Okay?” Sparked by Paul’s unexpected agreement, a giggle bubbles forth from her, carrying genuine happiness. It’s infectious, dancing through the air, infusing the moment with warmth Paul is certain will linger in his memories.

“Yeah! Let’s get married tonight!”

A/N: Unfortunately Tumblr had been making me suffer regarding the tagging, and text limits. I am also aware it has been a while since I updated, so hope this was good enough of an apology.

PART 33

[hotasfahrenheit]

[My Stand-In 1.09] | [DPR Ian - Limbo]

don't waste your tears on somebody you can't even save throw me down to the wolves it's where i belong see you on the other side where our worlds will collide take what's yours just leave me in two pieces i left my heart down in the basement where all the ravens take their turn picking at what's left of me i took you out of my existence only to crawl back into your arms knowing how much it will take away do you think we are really dreaming? can someone tell me where i am? i'm running out of sand i took you out of my existence only to crawl back into your arms knowing it will make me go insane

[crossedmythoughtlessheart]

"someday when you leave me, i bet these memories follow you around."

favourite taylor swift music videos 1/? - wildest dreams

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wildest Dreams 5

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, manipulation, lying. Tags are not exhaustive and more may be added as the series progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Andy Barber lost everything and you’re about to give him it all back. (dark!reader)

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: The bitch is back.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like snakes love Woody’s boots. Take care. 💖

You enter the office and strut over to the desk. You put down the bag and unzip it as Andy shuts the door with a soft click. You reach inside and take out one of the wrapped subs.

“I made you a sandwich, honey. And there’s pasta salad. I also brought a thermos of coffee. Decaf, you have to cut back on caffeine,” you explain as you unpack the lunch, “and tonight, I think we could go for a quick shop–”

“What are you doing here?” He hisses as he nears the desk, “you can’t be here.”

“Oh, that’s silly. You are entitled to a break. You’re a lawyer, you know the law.”

“That’s not what I mean–”

“It’s really nice of me to come all the way down here and bring you lunch, isn’t it?” A edge hardens in your voice, “so, you’re welcome.”

He growls and stares at you. You turn and tilt your chin up at him defiantly. If anyone can handle him, it’s you. And only you. Your only natural talent is stubbornness, everything else you’ve worked tirelessly to hone.

“If you’re unhappy, you just have to put your foot down,” you face him completely. “You are the man so if you must put me in my place, do so.”

His brows furrow and he sighs. You wait. He doesn’t move. You let a laugh trickle up your throat.

“You have a choice right now, Mr. Barber,” you say, “you can sit and eat your lunch or you can…” you pause and slide the bag aside, then move the food out of your way. You set your feet flat and plant your feet, “spank me and send me home. Show me that you are in charge.” You look at him again and bat your eyes, “I will do whatever you like.”

He inhales and puts his hands on his hips, “I told you, leave me alone–”

“Stop with that,” you ball your fists and hit the desk, “you need me. You want me! I felt it last night and you did too. I had to clean your cum out of your underwear–”

“Enough,” he waggles his finger at you, “enough.”

“Do you want me to go, Mr. Barber?” You spread your palms flat again and push your ass out, wiggling it, “you better be clear with me. I need a strong hand to guide me.”

“I’m not doing this,” he insists.

“Well, I’m not leaving so… sit and eat your lunch.”

“What is wrong with you?” He snarls as he throws his hand out, “I am begging you–”

You stand straight and face him. He winces as you step closer but he doesn’t retreat. You grab his crotch and he grunts, catching your hand as he jerks his hips back. You giggle as he tries to pull you off him.

“You can lie, but your body can’t,” you taunt as you feel his dick, half-hard and twitching, “you can’t hold all that in honey, that’s what I’m for.”

“Stop,” he squeezes your wrist, “I’m at work–”

“You’re on break,” you insist, fondling him.

He rips your arm away and shoves you so you stumble back. You laugh as you barely keep from falling, your ankles bending in your heels. You give a devilish smirk and wink at him.

You reach behind your head and push down the top of your zipper, then bend on arm under to pull it the rest of the way. Andy exhales loudly as you let your dress slacken and you wiggle your shoulders free. He comes forward, grabbing at the dress as you push it further and further.

“Stop,” he hisses through his teeth, “don’t–”

You rip the dress past your waist and drop it to pool at your feet. You look at him, hands on your hips as you stand in a lacy white bra and thong. He recoils and clears his throat.

“You can’t do this,” he says weakly.

“You want to fuck me now?” You ask, “I can get in your lap. Bend over the desk?”

“No,” he crosses his arms and looks away.

“I can use my mouth again,” you get closer to him, “you could cum on my tits?” You press your hands to his chest and he flinches, his jaw gritting, “or I can use my hands…”

“Please,” his voice is hollow.

“It’s all up to you, Mr. Barber. You are in charge,” you caress the muscle of his chest, “you know I can’t fight you off. But if you want to tell me what to do, you better make sure I do it.”

“Enough,” he stills your hands, “I can’t–”

“You can–”

“No,” he insists.

“What’s the matter, hmm? I’m not like her, Andy. I’m not going to argue with you. Not if you put your foot down. So do it? Show me you’re the boss.”

“Don’t,” he growls.

“What?”

“Don’t talk about… her.”

“Andy,” you hum, “she’s dead. You need to move–”

Suddenly, his hand is on the back of your neck. You wobble in your heels as he turns you and pushes your head down. Your cheek meets the desk as you bring your hands to the wood. You don’t fight it, instead pushing your ass up.

The first slap makes you moan. The way his hand cracks off your ass ripples through your body and makes your legs shake. You smile as he does it again, harder, surer. His breath deepens with each strike, coming closer and closer together. Until your ass is raw and tingling.

He stops, his palm against your hot flesh. He lets out a long heave and drags his hand off of you as he lets go of your neck. He steps away and spins, scratching his beard as he shakes his head.

“Go home,” he demands as he rounds the desk, “not– go back to my house and don’t come back here. Understand?”

You stand slowly. You’re so wet. You want to just climb over him and make him finish the job. But you won’t. 

“Yes, Mr. Barber,” you step into your dress and pull it up. “I will see you when you get home.”

You reach under your skirt and roll your panties down your legs. You carefully unhook them from around your feet and drop them on his desk. He has his back to you, staring at the window as his shoulders are square and stiff. 

You grab your purse and shimmy happily, “have a good day, honey. I love you.”

He doesn’t say a word. It doesn’t bother you. He’s close. He can’t hold out for much longer. You know him. You know exactly what he needs. You are what he needs.

👗

You’re making dinner when Andy gets in. You hear the door and his footsteps, slow and sonorous. You wait for him to come say hello so you can ask him how his day is. He doesn’t. 

You smile at the steaming pan, scraping the wooden spatula off the bottom. He’s still afraid, but he doesn’t know why. He’s not scared of you, only of himself. He lost control in his office, showed his true colours, but doesn’t he know that’s exactly what you love about him.

You set a lid over the pan to keep supper warm. Your painstaking effort to make a new dish will not be put to waste. He will not be eating in his office or on the couch. He will come and sit at the table. This is a proper household.

You march to the door and listen. You don’t hear him. He’s hiding from you. Ugh, he needs to get over it. You are just trying to take care of him and it’s clear he can’t do that for himself.

You go upstairs and stop at the top. You hear him in his office, a low roll in his throat as the wheel of his chair squeaks. Nope, that’s not how this is going to go.

You continue down the hallway and enter his office without knocking. He’s tugging at his tie as you do. You stop before him with stone in your jaw.

“Can you not smell the dinner I’ve spent hours making for you?”

He looks at you, a ripple above his brow. “I have work–”

“You are done work,” you look at the clock on the narrow table in the corner, “it’s home time. You’re going to come eat dinner–”

“I am working,” he insists.

“Andrew.”

“Don’t,” he warns with a jab of his finger, “this is how it’s going to work, understand? You are going to stay away from me. If you insist on squatting here, keep out of my way.”

“Squatting? Pardon you,” you stomp your foot, “that’s not how you speak to me.”

“You are deranged,” he rolls closer to his desk, “do you not understand that?”

“You didn’t think so when I had your dick in my mouth,” you snap, quickly reeling back. “What I mean honey, is that I’m not the deranged one. You’re the one not seeing things clearly. You don’t know how much you truly need me.”

“I don’t,” he sniffs.

“You’re lonely, Andy. You’re miserable, you can’t just hide away every night with beer and paperwork,” you tut, “you need someone here with you. Someone to take care of you. That’s all I’m trying to do.”

“You don’t know me. You’re a fucking stalker but you don’t know–”

“No more beer, by the way,” you ignore him, “I emptied that thing.”

You point to the minifridge between the bookshelves, “it’s bad for you.”

“You what?”

“I’ve done a whole inventory. Gotten rid of all the junk. Made a list of what we need. Oh and of course, we have to clean the barbecue for next week.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We’re going to invite the neighbours, of course. Celebrate our engagement–”

“Engagement? What are you even talking– what engagement–”

You hold out your hand, displaying the ring to him, “I love it. Don’t you? It’s simple but elegant. Unlike that big old hunk of diamonds you got for the first one. You and me, we’re not like that–”

“You’re walking a fucking line,” he warns.

“You’re letting me,” you challenge tritely.

He sits back and huffs. His eyes roll back as his frustration tenses in his neck, twitching in his cheek.

“I can’t do this,” he breathes.

“Honey,” you soften your tone, “please, you’re stressed. We both know you doing all this…” you look around, “isn’t good for you. It’ll all catch up to you and I couldn’t stand to see you sick.”

“I’m not–”

“Shhh,” you come around the desk, “Andy, you carry so much stress.”

You touch his face and he leans away from you. You brush your fingertips along his beard and down to his neck. His jaw clenches as he stares past you.

“I’m not trying to destroy your life, Andy, I’m here to make it better,” you trail your touch down his shirt, “I only want to make you happy. I know it’s been so hard for you, so why don’t you let me make it…” you linger along the top of his fly, “easier?”

“Stop,” he breathes as he grips the arm of the chair.

“Make me,” you purr as you pick open his fly.

He doesn’t move. He shudders as you slide down his zipper. You don’t hesitate. You push apart the top of his pants and slip your hand beneath the fabric. You rub him through his boxers. He’s already getting hard.

You squeeze him until he groans and you lean in to kiss his forehead. You breathe into his hairline as you toy with him, his body constricting and his chest rising and falling fast.

“This is what you want. Even if you won’t admit it. But I’ll give it to you, honey, I’ll give you whatever you want,” You nuzzle his soft hair, “I’m ready for all of you.”

“Please…” he rasps as he pulls his head back, jutting out his chin.

“Please, what, baby?” You moan as you pump him through the cotton.

“I–” he chokes and closes his eyes.

As you play with him, his hips shift, and he trembles. Spurred on, your fingers crawl to the top of his underwear and dip beneath. You grip him, feeling the thick veins corded under his skin. You hold him firmly, moving your hand up and down, watching how he squirms and whimpers. You feel power in your very hand.

“Isn’t that good? I can be so good for you… so good to you,” you grab the arm of the chair and push it back. You get to your knees before him, watching yourself pump him, “don’t you want me to be good to you?”

You tug down the strap of your dress, then the other, all while keeping your hand moving. He grunts as you awkwardly shrug away the fabric. You pull down the strap of your bra, your tits popping free of the lacy cups. You angle his tip over the curve of your chest as you sidle closer.

“That’s it, Mr. Barber, you can do it…” you coax, “cum all over my tits. Come on, come on–”

Andy grunts and his pelvis jerks. He spasms as strings of cum shoot out across your skin. You smirk as you ease him through his climax, the warmth of his release dripping down your throat and tits. He shakes and you let him go gently. He dick pops up and twitches against his stomach.

He looks at you from beneath shroud lashes as you touch your slick chest, scooping up his cum and holding it up on your fingertips. You push your fingers into your mouth and suck off the salty flavour. He lip quivers as he gapes at you.

“Are you ready for dinner, honey?”

[ohanny]

fun fact: i saw this pic before the show aired and was convinced i would make this love triangle into a throuple, blissfully unaware they were all about to be "brothers" in an omegaverse show

[justafriend-ql]

brb making this my entire personality

[xceanlynx]

Why did my friend, a Taylor Swift fan (nobody's perfect), send me a tweet of a random swiftie beefing with fucking rockstar Lestat de Lioncourt 😭😭😭

[imaginedreamwrite]

Wildest Dreams

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: After being torn apart in childhood, you transfer from one university to another across the country where you reunite with the alphas who swore you would be mates when you grew up

Pairing: alpha!Steve Rogers x omega!Reader x alpha!Bucky Barnes

Tropes: football players/tutor, childhood friends/mates, a/b/o

[guiltyasdave]

wildest dreams

series masterlist • dbf!Dave York x f!reader

joelscurls masterlist • jana’s masterlist

tags/warnings: explicit smut (18+ only, mdni), dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamic (reader becomes very dependent on Dave), dom/sub dynamics, angst, feelings, daddy issues, secret/forbidden relationship, corruption kink, able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, Dave doesn’t kill people in this, more specific warnings at the start of each chapter

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates 🫶🏻

chapter one: i can see the end as it begins

chapter two: no one has to know what we do

chapter three: heaven can't help me now

chapter four: nothing lasts forever

chapter five: say you'll remember me

epilogue: say you'll see me again

@joelscurls i love you so much!

dividers by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

[mintjeru]

pov you are an anime fan in july 2024

[cj-chb]

[easthighseblos]

Wildest dreams 3x07 ✨

[swearingcactus]

fun game that doesn't take itself seriously that unfortunately has a very underwhelming ending but hey. we ball.