#There's always someone she could return to - return to being - and maybe start to build back up

[ta3mint]

okok i LOVEDDD blush, now i need a part 2 of the reader and minho walking back to the dorms after leaving the party ofc y/n is still pretty out of it from the alcohol and the whole walk back y/n is being very giddy and flirty bc they both just confessed their feelings to each other so she’s giving him praises and being very h word towards him (bc lowkey i be like that too when im drunk and sometimes when you’re drunk people just seem a lot more attractive) minho is a lil taken a back but loving every second of it, once they reach the dorms y/n has now sobered up a bit, she remembers the confession, but doesn’t remember anything else she said/did (doesn’t really recall making out with him either) after that and minho is teasing her about it they end up finishing what they started at the party, but decide to go a little further 👀. i also just wanna see domesticated lee know taking care of y/n to feed my acts of service love language

Blush (Part 2)

Contains: sequel to Part 1, university au Minho x female reader smut

Warnings: minors do not interact!!, Mentions of alcohol/being drunk, cursing, vague mentions of nausea, Minho being a possessive little shit, teasing, kind of dom Minho but not too crazy (still a consent king), use of the word slut, fingering, unprotected piv sex (don't do this!!)

Word Count: 6,000

Author's note: okay okay, I tweaked the order of events just a bit because I like the way it ended up flowing <3 I hope it's what you're looking for and that you like it!! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) you know where to find me.

Despite Minho offering several times to get someone to drive you back to your dorm, you declined each time. Something told you that being in a car right now would only make your stomach churn even more than it already was, now that the alcohol was trying to work its way out of your system.

Minho reluctantly continued walking you back to your dorm, supporting your weight as much as he could when you were walking more slowly with each step you took.

You groaned suddenly and Minho froze in concern.

"Maybe we should sit down on the sidewalk for a second, (Y/N)."

He didn't let you agree or disagree with him, and instead settled you down on the nearest part of the sidewalk before sitting down beside you.

You had to admit, not moving felt great for the time being. Some of your mental clarity had started to come back, and some of it...had not. You couldn't remember exactly what had happened at the party a little while ago besides the confession, but you knew that you were grateful for Minho to be here taking care of you.

The more you thought about it and thought about him...the more wild your imagination began to be. And the more you imagined, the more came out of your big mouth.

"Minho, thank you for taking care of me," you giggled, leaning over onto his shoulder for support. You reached out your hand and placed it on his thigh closest to you, squeezing it hard in your drunken, maybe slightly turned on state. "I've always wanted to feel these," you finished in a whisper.

Minho watched where your hand landed on his thigh and he swallowed hard.

You couldn't help but notice the sheen of sweat on his skin, likely brought on by him basically supporting your entire body weight on this long walk back to your dorm room. The way his chest rose and fell, the way his breath fanned across the top of your head...it was driving you crazy.

"Are you just saying that?" Minho asked you quietly, the slightest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

You shook your head almost violently.

"No, no. I mean it," you whispered, sitting up slightly so that you could see his face better. "You are beautiful, every part of you. I've always thought so."

Minho gave in to his urge to smile before he stood up. He reached out a hand to you to help you up, and you returned his smile as a ''thank you''.

"Come on, then. You can tell me more about it once we get to your room."

~

Thankfully, you were almost there. You could see your building now, at least. But sitting down for a few minutes had really helped. You felt more steady while walking this time around, and your thoughts weren't as clouded.

Minho got to the bottom of the steps that led up to the second floor where your room was at. You were trailing behind just a bit, but not too much. Once you closed the gap, Minho glanced between where you stood and the top of the stairs a few times.

"I don't know if you walking up the steps right now is a good idea," Minho said, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Oh, please. I'll be fine!"

You brushed past him and put one foot on the first step. Looking at all the steps after that one though...

"Okay," you sighed in defeat, "Maybe not."

Minho chuckled. "Like I said..."

"What are we supposed to do then? The elevator has been broken for days, Minho."

He looked up the stairs once more and then back at you, a mischievous glint forming in his eyes. He then pondered his next words carefully.

"You said you like it when I take care of you?"

You nodded slowly, not sure exactly where this was going.

Minho put a hand on your shoulder, sending what felt like electric currents through your body. You sharply drew in a breath as he leaned in close to your ear, like he wanted only you to hear what he was about to say.

"Then be a good girl and let me carry you to your room."

The hallway around you started spinning. Whether it was the last bit of the alcohol or his words...you weren't sure.

"Okay," you whispered in return.

Minho bent over slightly and placed one arm under the back of your legs and the other behind your shoulders. With surprising ease, he swept you up into his arms and glanced down at you.

"This okay?"

"Mmhmm," was all you could manage.

"Good," he breathed out with a smile.

You couldn't look anywhere else other than at his face while he carried you up the steps. His smile alone was enough to make you melt, and it always had been. But he looked so gorgeous from the side like this, you felt as if you were studying him like a textbook. Had he always looked this good?

Who were you kidding, of course he had.

Minho could feel you staring and despite knowing better, he couldn't help but eat it up.

"See something you like, (Y/N)?"

Heat crept up from your neck into your cheeks, and that was what it took for you to finally blink after staring for so long.

"Sorry, I can't help it. I've looked at you from what felt like far away for so long...it's nice to finally be able to see you up close."

"The feeling is mutual."

Minho glanced down at your lips and back up at your eyes, so quickly you weren't sure if you had imagined it or not. But now you were at your door, and he was setting you down.

You rummaged in your bag and got your key out to unlock your door. It creaked open, and you stepped inside, Minho standing behind you almost timidly compared to how he had acted a few moments ago.

"You can come in, you know."

Minho blinked a few times and stepped in after you, looking around your living room.

It still looked just like you had left it. Clothes everywhere from trying to decide what to wear and accessories strewn about on random surfaces. But this was where you normally got ready since you had a better mirror in here compared to the one in your bedroom.

"Sorry for the mess...getting dressed for the party was stressful."

You tugged at the bottom of your skirt, suddenly hyper aware of how short it actually was. Minho followed your movements, before clearing his throat and turning around.

"Let's get you something to eat and drink that isn't alcohol."

As soon as he finished speaking, your stomach grumbled.

"Yeah, I'm starving. And I feel a lot better now," you said as you flopped onto your small couch by the door.

"Good," Minho said earnestly.

You watched as he dug around your small kitchen cabinets. He was wearing a loose hoodie with a white tank top underneath. This was the first time that you noticed how built he actually was. Lean, taut muscles pulling against the fitted white fabric of his tank top, covered up every few seconds by his hoodie when it shifted as he moved. The silver necklace he wore swayed and bounced against his perfectly defined chest. Not too big and not too obvious. It was like a secret he kept, and you were just now hearing it for the first time.

"Are these okay?" Minho asked, holding up two packs of instant noodles.

His words cut your thoughts short, and you gave him a thumbs up, not trusting your mouth right now.

Minho turned to get some water for the noodles and you decided you needed to look at something else. Like literally anything else, for right now.

You pulled out your phone and instantly saw how many messages were in the group chat with you and the guys.

Felix had sent that video only minutes after you left the party, and the guys were letting you have it.

"Finally, it was getting painful."

"Geez, Minho, didn't know you had it in you."

"It should've been me!!"

Okay, so maybe your phone was something you didn't need to look at right now either. But you couldn't remember exactly what happened in the video Felix took. So, against your better judgement, you clicked on it.

Your cheeks were on fire as you watched yourself grab at Minho and him eventually kissing you.

Felix was struggling to not make any noise, and you could tell he was trying not to laugh.

"What are you looking at?" Minho asked, coming over to sit next to you with two bowls of noodles and two bottles of water.

"Did I...uhh...on the bench...did we?"

Minho snickered, setting the bowls down to cool off.

"You practically begged me to."

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as it all came crashing back to you. The plan you made, getting Felix to help you...all of it.

"That isn't how I really wanted our first kiss to go..." you trailed off, reaching for your noodles that were still slightly too hot. "I was just so nervous. I thought alcohol was the answer."

Minho listened to you speak, a genuine expression on his face. But he didn't interrupt.

"I hope you don't think differently of me."

He shook his head, reaching out to brush some hair out of your face.

"Never. I was nervous too. Now, eat your noodles, and let's relax, okay?"

The two of you ate silently, the only sounds in the room being your forks hitting the sides of your bowls. Finally eating something was definitely what you needed, and you were becoming your usual self.

But...

Your thoughts started wandering again. This definitely wasn't the alcohol anymore, this was just you. Finally giving into the fact that you and your best friend had confessed to each other, and you were sitting right next to him in a different context than before.

Something caught you off guard as you ate the last bite of noodles, however.

During the course of your thoughts wandering, Minho had removed his hoodie and threw it on the back of the couch behind him. Now he was sitting beside you in just the white tank top and his tight black pants.

You nearly choked on the last bite when you realized, and Minho almost jumped out of his skin.

"First day eating, too? Shit, you scared me," he grumbled as he clapped you gently on the back.

The choking had subsided, but tears had formed in your eyes in the meantime from how hard you had been coughing.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," you stuttered, wiping your eyes forcefully. "Just warn me next time you start stripping in my room. You're lucky I don't have roommates."

Minho scoffed. "You call this stripping? I only took off my hoodie because the noodles made me hot. Look at you, talking about stripping. Your ass has been hanging out of that skirt all night."

You froze, an icy wave of surprise taking over your body. These words were in stark contrast to the ones from before, when the both of you had been talking about how nervous you were. But it only took a second to recuperate, and you decided to have some fun with him. The way he looked, the way he sounded, the way he talked...it had been driving you wild since you started walking back to the dorms, drunk or not. You wanted to finish what you started.

"How would you know? Had you been looking?"

Now it was Minho's turns to be caught off guard, his ears turning a deep crimson.

"Don't play dumb. How could I not have looked? A few hours ago, I had what I thought was an unrequited crush on you. I had to stare in secret. Now, I can stare as obviously as I want." Minho threw his arm lazily over your shoulders before continuing. "Unless you don't want me to."

He gave you a quick side eye and instantly laughed when he saw you open and close your mouth several times, not being able to make words come out. Looks like he was better at playing with you than you were at playing with him.

"You are my girlfriend now, right? Isn't that what this is?"

You shot to your feet without thinking, Minho's arm falling to his side on the couch.

"I...I'm going to the bathroom!"

Minho called out to you in concern, but you ignored him. Your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest and you needed a minute.

You all but ran to your bathroom, shutting the door behind you in a hurry. Then you made the mistake of glancing at yourself in the mirror.

Your hair and makeup were a mess, but your clothes looked okay. Your skin was flushed and slightly shiny from what you could safely assume was a layer of nervous sweat. It looked like you but also...didn't.

You decided to fix your hair and take off all your makeup, since it was ruined anyway. This alone helped you feel cleaner and more put together. You couldn't believe that this version of you was what Minho had been looking at for the last little while. It made you cringe. Just for the sake of feeling even more like yourself, you also decided to quickly brush your teeth.

You made your way back to the couch, but Minho was no longer there. You sat down and watched as he rinsed out both of your bowls and placed them in the sink. His arms were another dirty little secret he had been keeping, perfectly sized muscles flexing as he worked in the dim light of your kitchen.

You could't help but imagine what they would look like wrapped around you, holding you close as-

"Hey, there you are." Minho was walking back over to where you had sat back down on the couch. "Feel okay?"

The way he was flipping back and forth between teasing you and being concerned for you was enough to make your head start spinning again.

"Oh, yeah, I just wanted to freshen up. I felt gross."

Minho hummed and knelt in front of you, giving your ankle a quick poke.

"You still have these heels on. Do you want them off?"

You gulped, looking down at him as he made eye contact with you from below. He looked almost ethereal now, the way his eyes glistened and his brows knit together, waiting on you to answer him so he knew what he had permission to do.

"Please," you all but squeaked.

Minho laughed quietly.

"So you like being taken care of and teased huh? I'll remember that."

You watched as he undid the first heel, seemingly getting the hang of all the straps pretty quickly. Using one hand to pull the shoe off, he used the other to grip your heel in order to keep you balanced. Then he repeated the same thing for the other shoe.

"Feels better, right?"

You managed an "mhmm" as you stared at where his hand still gripped your left heel, even though the shoes were long gone.

"I can't decide," Minho said suddenly.

You tilted your head to the side in confusion, not sure what he was referring to.

"I can't decide if I should be polite, or..." he whispered, dragging his hand from your heel to your knee, and then finally to your exposed upper thigh, "If I should let you know just how crazy you've been making me this entire time. All your little comments and the way I obviously make you feel...I've already slipped up a few times tonight. But here we are. And I never thought we would be here. It's enough to make me wanna lose any control I have left."

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart sped up again, so much so that you could hear it beating in your ears.

"I've been in love with you for years, (Y/N). I have dreamed of being this close to you, of being able to touch you like this," he continued, fiddling with the edge of your skirt on your thigh, "But I also try my best to be a gentleman. The kind of man you would want for a long, long time."

The room suddenly felt heavy and oh, so hot.

"So, now that you are feeling more like yourself and can give me honest answers, I just can't help but be tempted..." He stood slowly, placing his other hand on your right thigh.

Now that both of his hands were on you, gripping you tightly as he leaned over you on the couch, you felt as though you were short circuiting.

But it ended as soon as it started.

Minho let go of you suddenly with a groan and reached for his hoodie.

"I should go now," he said, as if the past five minutes didn't happen. "It's getting really late. And you need to sleep."

He turned back around and placed a quick kiss on the top of your head. You barely registered anything that was going on. You were completely stunned after having been thrown into a complete 360. The almost shy, sarcastic boy you had been crushing on for years had a completely different side to him that you had never seen.

You wanted to see more.

"Text me in the morning, okay?"

Minho started walking towards the door, but your hand was on his wrist the second he turned away. He stumbled a bit and looked back at you in confusion.

"Stay," you whispered, almost inaudibly. "Please."

"Why?"

Your head was spinning, your thoughts bouncing off of each other and then disappearing before you could say anything that made sense. All you knew was that you didn't want him to leave. You wanted him to stay and above all...you wanted to feel him touch you again.

"Why, (Y/N)?" Minho repeated.

You swallowed hard.

"Because, I..."

Minho watched as you struggled to decide what to say. He couldn't help but be amused with the way he made you feel.

"I want you to kiss me again. But for real this time. I want to remember it."

Minho paused for a few seconds. You stood up from the couch to be closer to him, your chest rising and falling rapidly. He couldn't help but stare at the way your breasts pushed against the fabric of your low cut top.

"I'm your girlfriend, right? Isn't that what you said? I want you to kiss me."

That was all it took for Minho to fall apart completely.

He dropped his hoodie on the floor, not caring where it landed. Then he grabbed your face forcefully and his lips crashed into yours.

This kiss was beyond different from the one you shared on the bench at the party. That one had been fueled by giddy nerves and cheap alcohol. This one was laced with something deeper, something more primal. Minho kissed you hard...telling you things that he didn't need to say with words. At least, not yet.

At first, you had frozen. But once you registered what was going on, your entire body melted into him. His hands fell from your face to your hips, which he then used to turn you around so that you were backed up against the nearest wall. He was gentle, yet firm, so as not to hit your head.

Your fingers tangled in his perfect, dark hair to steady yourself, and he shivered at the feeling.

Minho gripped your hips tighter, his fingertips threatening to leave tiny bruises on your delicate skin. Your mouth parted slightly at the sensation, and Minho took the opportunity to slot his tongue against yours. It quickly got even more heated, both of your chins covered in remnants of each others' saliva.

Tongue and teeth and slippery skin...it was enough to make heat start to pool between your legs.

Minho pulled away to take a breath, and you were glad he did since you needed to breathe as well. But Minho seemed to catch his breath more quickly than you, turning his attention to your neck.

He left a trail of sloppy kisses down from your chin to your shoulder, and you gladly tilted your head back to give him more access. You felt almost drunk again, but this time you weren't drunk on alcohol.

Minho was the first to speak.

"(Y/N)," he sighed, nipping at the soft skin of your collarbone. "Tell me to stop and I will."

You laughed breathlessly.

"You are a gentleman after all, right?"

Minho smiled, his mouth an inch away from your skin.

"I can be. But I'm sure you've noticed that I can be...something else." He pulled away from your neck and looked you in the eye, placing a hand against your cheek. "Am I still what you want?"

"Yes," you breathed out, the certainty obvious in your voice. "I've been in love with you too, Minho. I just didn't know how to say it. I love all of you, and I want all of you."

He groaned, sounding like he was almost in pain. But then his grip on your cheek tightened slightly and he leaned in even more, impossibly close.

"Then show me."

The sensation between your legs was undeniable by this point. Minho, being his usual observant self, immediately noticed that you were rubbing your thighs together, trying to generate even the smallest bit of friction to relieve the feeling.

He scoffed, but there was a familiar, gentle shimmer in his eye.

"Or how about I take care of you a different way?"

All you could do was bite your lip and nod. Of course he had noticed. But you were so, so glad he did.

"Put your arms around my neck and jump," Minho commanded softly.

You immediately obliged, and his hands fell to your ass, which he used to hold onto you as you jumped. He supported your weight with ease, and you nearly started drooling at the way his muscles were now completely flexed.

Minho then carried you back to the couch, where he laid you down on your back. Carefully, so as not to crush you underneath him, he propped himself up on the arm of the couch with his left hand behind you. He settled himself on top of you, but not touching you, with either leg on the sides of your hips.

His right hand traced a line down from your cheek, to in between your breasts, all the way down to the top of your skirt, where it finally came to a halt.

You practically went cross-eyed watching his silver necklace dangle in front of you. But the feeling of Minho hooking his index finger underneath the top of your skirt snapped you out of it.

"Tell me," he said quietly, "Did you wear this for me?"

In the span of a few seconds, you had a heated internal battle over whether to tell him the truth or not. Ultimately, you decided he already knew and he just wanted to hear you say it.

"Yes...I did."

The corner of his mouth curled upwards as he looked down at where his finger sat, pulling against the thin fabric of the skirt.

"Silly girl. You don't have to get drunk and dress like a slut just to get my attention."

You held your breath as he slowly slipped the rest of his hand under the fabric.

"I have dreamed of doing this with you...just the way you normally are," Minho continued.

As he spoke, Minho's fingers dipped lower and lower, until the tip of his pointer finger came in contact with the next to nothing panties covering your sopping core. You immediately drew in a breath, so hard you thought you were going to choke on the air.

Minho chuckled, circling over your clit lazily through your panties.

"Is this where you want me?"

Overcome with the heat and desire filling your every limb, you nodded vigorously, reaching one hand behind Minho's neck to hold onto him softly.

"Okay," he whispered, barely audible. "But try to be quiet, hmm?"

Before you could argue, Minho slid his pointer finger under the edge of your panties, instantly parting your lips and making contact with your bare clit.

This light touch alone was enough to send a jolt through you, and Minho couldn't help but laugh slightly at your obvious pleasure.

He then tentatively pushed his pointer finger inside of you, waiting to see how you would react.

You were so wet, it slid in with ease. You shivered at the sensation, and dug your nails into the back of Minho's neck. He hissed at the sensual pain, beginning to move his finger inside of you slowly.

"Mmmm," you whined, bucking your hips up to try and push his finger further inside. "I need more, Minho. Please."

He swiftly leaned down and hushed you with a chaste kiss.

"This needy for me already? How about this, is this enough?"

Minho shoved his middle finger inside of you as well, more forcefully this time, and immediately scissored you open with an ever-increasing speed.

"Yes! Please, don't stop."

If it weren't for how good you felt right now, you would be embarrassed at the way you were speaking. But he was unraveling you by the second, the two fingers inside of you pulling the strings holding you together.

The sounds of your wetness nearly echoed throughout your small living room. You knew you were humiliatingly close to your release, and Minho picked up on that as well.

Without saying anything else, he curled both fingers inside sharply, almost instantaneously finding the spot you needed him most. Stars swirled around in your vision, the feeling of his fingers and the cold metal of his necklace against your sizzling skin the only things keeping you grounded.

Then everything came crashing down in a searing, slick mess.

You threw your other arm around him as you clenched so hard on his fingers, you were worried you'd cut off his circulation. Your arousal dripped down the back of your ass, soaking your panties and Minho's wrist. Both of your thighs were locked up and quivering against Minho's forearm, essentially keeping him trapped there.

But eventually, the stars faded and you could see and feel properly again.

With a smirk, Minho pulled his hand away and wiped it on the back of his pants. As you watched him do so, you happened to notice just how badly he needed you, too. His arousal was painfully apparent through the tight pants he was wearing, and it made you swoon all over again.

"Let's go somewhere we have a little more room, shall we? And I'll take those ruined clothes off of you."

You weakly agreed, your throbbing sex already becoming hot again.

For the third time tonight, Minho leaned over to pick you up. This time though, he simply draped you over his shoulder, knowing that you wouldn't need to be carried for long.

He made his way into your bedroom, lightly pushing the door open with his foot. He then laid you on your bed and looked down at your beautifully disheveled state from where he was standing by your legs.

"So pretty like this," Minho whispered, bending down and kissing your forehead. "But then again, you're always pretty."

Even in your blissful condition, you couldn't help but blush at his words.

"But before we do this...I need you to tell me something. And be honest," Minho began, the atmosphere now turning more serious than playful. "Will you really be mine, (Y/N)? Mine only? Because once I have had you in this way, I won't want to share."

You watched him attentively. His eyebrows were knitted together in genuine concern, and his eyes searched your face for any hint of an answer you might give him. This was where you saw the shy side of him that you initially fell in love with, and you knew that despite how he may show another side of him with you intimately, that he was always being his true self, no matter what. That part of him that craved your validation and your love was what truly guided his actions.

"If this is your way of officially asking me out, Minho, then I accept." You giggled and reached for one of his hands. "I don't want anyone else. I just want you by my side, always, okay?"

Minho shyly giggled in return, squeezing your fingers slightly before letting them go.

"Okay. Then let's get these off you."

He gripped the edge of your skirt and pulled it down, the cool air hitting the dampness of your panties and making you cringe. That didn't last long, however, because Minho then did the same to your panties, practically peeling them off you due to how sticky they were.

You tried not to shy away from his gaze as he placed his hands on your knees and spread you apart to finally look at you fully.

His nostrils flared and his eyes fluttered shut at the perfectly overwhelming sight of you. He chanted a broken mantra in his mind to keep from diving into you right then and there. God, did he want to taste you. But that was for another time. His painful erection needed to be taken care of soon, and he wanted to be inside of you more than anything else right now.

"Is something wrong?" you asked quietly.

Minho snapped out of his thoughts and his hand instantly found yours again.

"No, no. Everything is perfect, you're perfect. I just... needed to compose myself," he said, his eyes darkening in the dim light of your bedroom.

"Oh," you giggled nervously.

Your anticipation only grew when he stepped away from you and yanked his pants and boxers down in one go, erection springing free and pulsing in the cool air.

"Oh," you repeated, this time more nervous than before.

Even from where you were laying on the bed, you could see how angry and red his tip was, a pearlescent bead of precum threatening to drip onto the floor. Minho gripped himself with one hand, pumping slowly to relieve some of the pent up tension he was holding onto.

"Change your mind?"

You shook your head, your "no" clear as day.

"Good. But tell me if you do. Can you lay like you normally would against your pillows?"

You followed his instructions, bringing the rest of your body onto the bed and laying your head against your pillows. Minho followed, crawling over top of you once more, and kneeling between your legs. You wrapped your legs around his hips to provide him better access, and he quickly positioned himself with one hand at his base and the other gripping the headboard of your bed.

"I'm not going to last long," he grunted. "But I need to feel you now."

"It's okay, Minho. I need you, too."

Without another word, Minho brought his tip to rest against your entrance. He tapped it lightly a few times, before sliding between your folds to spread your increasing wetness.

"Oh, fuck, (Y/N). I could lose it right now," he moaned, his head falling backwards.

He was absolutely beautiful. His thighs that you had been so fixated on earlier were now on full display, muscles taught underneath his perfect tan skin. His white tank top now clung to his chest even more thanks to the layer of sweat that sat against it. And God, the way his hair was sticking to his forehead...the way his mouth fell open slightly in a silent moan...his eyes screwed shut in concentration...it was all too much. You needed him just as badly.

With no further hesitation, he pushed into you, bottoming out instantly. His forehead came to rest against yours and you couldn't help but squeal at the immediate pleasure.

"Mmm, that's right," Minho sighed, regaining control of his hips. "I could listen to that sweet sound forever."

He dragged himself out of you slowly, before crashing back into you, his balls slapping distinctly against your ass. Over and over he want, the sounds of his slick skin against yours ricocheting off your bedroom walls. The only thing louder was the lewd series of sounds coming out of your mouth as your pussy clenched around him in a vice grip.

"Ahh," he moaned loudly, hips stuttering slightly. "Careful, pretty girl. If you keep doing that, I might accidentally make you a college drop out."

Your cheeks flushed as he started pounding into you again. He was obviously getting close to his release already and you were getting close to your second one of the night.

"Look at me," Minho said in a low voice. But he didn't give you a chance and instead gripped your chin roughly with one hand. "Come for me again, I won't last much longer."

His words, coupled with his gaze and his rough hand against you were enough to send you into orbit again. The second your walls squeezed around him, Minho withdrew with a curse under his breath. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as you throbbed around the sudden emptiness inside of you. But you were quickly brought back to reality as ropes of Minho's release landed against the inside of your thighs and on top of your pelvis.

Now the only thing you could hear was your heartbeat and your breaths mixed with Minho's. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, and it remained unbroken as Minho gently slid out of you and pulled his boxers and pants on. He walked over to your nightstand and grabbed some of the tissues you kept there. He then came back around to you and wiped you off as best as he could, which earned him a sincere smile from you.

"Thank you, Minho."

"Hmm, for what? I've done so many things tonight."

You punched him weakly as he sat down beside you, and he chuckled.

"Well, I did the best I could. But I think a bath is in order. And also probably new sheets. Aaaand panties, for that matter."

"You're not wrong about the bath, that sounds nice. Run one for me?"

Minho stood up excitedly, happy that he could help you feel good in so many ways tonight.

"Of course. Then, let's get some sleep."

You agreed, fighting a yawn as he walked into the bathroom.

Against your better judgement, you reached into the pocket of your skirt and pulled out your phone. Despite it being the middle of the night, there were numerous unopened messages from your friends.

Based on what you read with a quick glance, several of them were making bets on where Minho was right now. A few of them were concerned though, since they hadn't heard from him or you since the party.

You decided to cheekily help them out.

You took a quick selfie, making sure to accentuate how messy your hair was and how pink your cheeks were. Then you sent it to the group chat with the caption: "Turns out Minho liked my blush a little too much, guys. Don't wait up xoxo."

Your message was instantly read by the whole group, and replies started flooding in faster than you could read them.

"Thank God you guys didn't do that here, smh."

"I guess you guys are a thing now?"

"Jeongin, you owe me $5!!!"

You could hear Minho chuckle from the bathroom as he shut the water off. He then sent a short message of his own, but tagged Felix in it directly.

"You'll still need new clothes, Felix. I hold grudges."

~

[societyfolklore]

Oka soo I dare to send in a Bucky imagine <3 Maybe one where you're dating but you're not an avenger, so you sometimes feel not good enough for him even though he always makes you feel special and he loves you more than anything. One time while he's at a mission, you're back at the compound waiting for him, but then also Sharon comes up to you being a bitch again and makes you feel even more unwanted and leave before Bucky returns. Later then he's happily waiting to see you, but frowns when he finds out you're not there. So he calls you, asking you to come over and you reluctantly agree. As you finally confront him with your doubts he immediately tries getting this thought out of you and gives you also his dog tags to prove he's yours forever and it's all cute then and also some soft smut where he tells you how much he loves you ? ♥️

Here we go! Here's our boy making everything better when the doubts creep in and we can shut it down on your own. Title: Yours to Keep

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x SHIELD Analyst!Female Reader

Summary: You feel like your not enough, and when Sharon gets in your head it makes it so much worse. But to Bucky you’re the reason to make it home.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Insecurity, emotional manipulation (from Sharon because she's a mean girl), soft possessiveness, smut, unprotected sex, established relationship, oral (f- receviving), praise, dog tag kink, Angst with Fluff, Romance.

A/N: Something softer for everyone this weekend. Thank you for the ask @wintersoldierchronicles

The compound was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that seeped into your skin and clung to you like static. You sat curled into one of the deep leather chairs in the lounge, knees tucked beneath you, a tablet in your lap. The screen glowed softly, lines of mission data scrolling as you half-heartedly skimmed them, reading intel you’d collected yourself over the past few days. Every enemy movement tracked. Every building layout mapped. Every communication protocol updated and tested.

All to help keep the Avengers safe. To keep him safe.

You should’ve felt accomplished. Proud. Instead, you felt like a ghost in your own home.

No one had said anything, not directly. But they didn’t have to. The looks, the nods you didn’t get in the hallway, the way everyone seemed to talk around you instead of to you. It all added up. They were Avengers. Legends. Gods. And you were… what? Just the analyst who happened to be dating one of them. An ordinary woman in love with an extraordinary man.

And somehow, no matter how often Bucky looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, the thought kept crawling back up your throat like bile: You’re not good enough for him.

You bit the inside of your cheek and tried to focus, tried to chase away the fog settling over your mind. But it was no use. The feeling had been a quiet whisper in the dark for months now, and lately… it was starting to scream.

You had seen the way people looked at Bucky- like he was a living monument to strength and survival. A relic of history wrapped in modern muscle and trauma, wearing his past like armour. People admired him. Revered him. And yet, he came home to you. You, who shuffled files and ran analyses. Who flinched when the training team sparred too close to your desk. Who once got winded jogging down the corridor when your badge lanyard snagged on a doorknob.

What could he possibly see in you that someone like Sharon, like Natasha, couldn’t offer in a more fitting package?

Footsteps echoed lightly down the corridor, the sharp click of designer boots hitting the polished floor like a countdown. You didn’t even need to lift your eyes. That cadence was familiar, the kind that always made your stomach twist with a mixture of dread and forced politeness.

Then came the voice. Smooth. Sweet. Laced with superiority.

“Still here?” Sharon Carter stepped into view, her tone dipped in passive-aggressive honey. She was perfectly made-up, of course, with not a single hair out of place, her sleek suit hugging her figure in all the ways that made people notice when she walked into a room.

She looked you up and down like you were something out of place, something small, insignificant. “Thought they kept the admin staff in the basement.”

It was a joke, probably. One of those faux-friendly jabs that everyone was supposed to laugh at. Except she wasn’t smiling. Not really.

You fought to keep your expression neutral, fingers tightening slightly around the tablet in your lap. You weren’t going to let her see how deep that cut went, not when she was already poised to twist the knife.

You gave her a polite nod, trying not to let your discomfort show. “Just going over the post-mission data. They’re due back in an hour.”

"Must be hard. Being with someone like Bucky." Sharon's smile was the kind that never quite reached her eyes.

“What do you mean?” You stiffened, your fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the tablet.

She stepped closer, arms folded casually like this was just idle chatter.

"I mean- he’s one of us. Field-ready. Weapon-trained. A living legend. And you… well, you make great coffee."

You swallowed hard. "I do more than-"

"I know," she said quickly, with that same dismissive tilt of her head. "You’re smart. Very behind-the-scenes. Essential in your own way, I suppose. But let’s be honest…Bucky’s built for war. He needs someone who understands that. Who can keep up. Who can be more than just a comfort waiting at home."

Your heart pounded painfully in your chest, each word driving in like a nail. It was everything you'd feared, laid out in someone else’s voice. Someone who was supposed to be on your side.

"He probably misses someone who can actually stand beside him out there," Sharon added with a shrug. "You know… someone who belongs."

The tablet in your hands blurred as tears threatened. You blinked hard and forced yourself to breathe through your nose.

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because if you opened your mouth, you weren’t sure whether you’d scream or sob.

So you just stood, quickly and quietly, and walked away- shoulders stiff, throat tight, eyes stinging. You had to get out of there before someone saw you fall apart.

You left the compound entirely, slipping out the back entrance and taking the long way home. Your mind ran in circles the whole walk. What if Sharon was right? What if everyone had just been too polite to say it out loud? What if the only reason Bucky was with you was because you were safe? Easy? A soft landing after years of running and pain?

~#~#~#~#~#~

Bucky came back two hours later, bruised and sweaty but grinning. The mission had been long, much longer than expected. But successful at least. He was covered in dirt and grime, dried blood flecked across one temple, the strap of his weapons bag cutting into his shoulder. His muscles ached, and the adrenaline had long since worn off, but one thing kept him upright, kept him moving: you. The thought of you waiting at the compound, probably curled up with your tablet and a warm drink, maybe looking up every time the door slid open- yeah, that thought had gotten him through worse days than this.

He slung his weapons bag over one shoulder, still covered in dirt and dust from the mission, and scanned the lounge immediately.

“Hey, Sam,” he called. “She around?”

Sam looked up from his protein bar, brow furrowing slightly. “She left a while ago. Didn’t say much. Looked kinda off, though.”

Bucky’s shoulders stiffened. “Off how?”

Sam stood, tossing the wrapper aside. “I dunno, man. Quiet. Real quiet. Didn’t even look me in the eye. Thought maybe she was just tired, but now…” He trailed off, reading the worry blooming on Bucky’s face.

“You think something happened?” Bucky asked.

Sam gave a slow nod. “Could be nothing. But you know her better than anyone. If it’s not nothing- you’ll fix it.”

Bucky’s heart dropped. Something was wrong. You always met him after missions. Always.

Without another word, he turned and pulled his phone out of his pocket, hand still a little bloodied. ~#~#~#~#~#~

You pulled your car over to the side of the road, the quiet hum of the engine the only sound breaking through your spiralling thoughts. You hadn’t made it home. It felt too far. Too final. The space inside your car was tight, suffocating, but it was still safer than walking through the front door like nothing was wrong.

The phone vibrated in your hand again, lighting up with his name.

You stared down at the caller ID like it was a bomb about to go off. You didn’t answer right away. How could you? How could you speak to him when all you wanted to do was disappear?

You were a coward. That much was clear. Running off like that, not even saying goodbye. You should’ve stayed. Faced it. Faced her. But the words Sharon had said... they hadn’t been new. They were just the same cruel thoughts you’d had about yourself, dressed up in someone else’s voice.

You weren’t right for someone like Bucky.

You were just an analyst. A desk jockey. A tagalong to the world of gods and heroes.

And he was... everything.

He was strength and legend and pain and hope, all wrapped up in that scarred, steady way he looked at you like you were worth the whole damn universe. And you? You couldn’t even look yourself in the mirror right now.

The phone buzzed again.

Guilt stabbed through your chest.

He’d just come off a mission. He was probably still aching, tired, maybe even hurt—and here you were, making it all about you. Selfish. So unlike him. He always made you feel like the only girl in the room. One look from him and the world melted away.

You swallowed hard, blinking back the sting in your eyes, and finally picked up.

“Hey,” you said, voice too quiet.

“Doll, where are you?” he asked, voice already softening. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Just… needed some air.”

There was a pause.

“You lying to me, sweetheart?” he said gently.

You closed your eyes. He knew you.

“No.”

Another pause. “Come back to the compound. Please. I need to see you. You're scaring me.”

Your chest cracked open. He sounded so… real. So Bucky. You found yourself nodding, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Okay,” you whispered.

~#~#~#~#~#~

He was already waiting by the elevator when you arrived, walking slow, tense loops with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His jaw was tight, lips pressed into a thin line, the lines around his eyes carved deeper than usual. Every few seconds, his gaze darted toward the entrance, like he couldn’t help but check again, hoping- needing- you to appear.

The moment his eyes landed on you, he stopped dead. Everything in him just stilled. Relief hit him like a wave, shoulders dropping, hands unclenching—but his expression didn’t ease completely. No, his eyes stayed cautious, flickering across your face like he was afraid one wrong move might send you running. Like you were something breakable he didn’t dare press too hard.

He didn’t speak. Just opened his arms.

You tried to fake a smile, to smooth the cracks in your mask. But it was shaky, barely there, and he saw right through it. You saw the flicker of sadness in his eyes at the attempt.

You stepped into his embrace slowly, almost shyly, as if uncertain you still deserved it. The moment your body met his, the dam inside you cracked.

You buried your face in his chest, exhaling like you’d been holding your breath since you left the compound.

“Hey,” he murmured into your hair, voice rough with emotion. “There’s my girl.”

You clung to him, fingers twisting in his shirt like you were afraid he’d vanish, afraid this was all a dream that would dissolve when you let go.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asked eventually, drawing back just enough to look into your face. His thumb brushed the corner of your mouth, like he wanted to catch the remnants of that broken smile.

You looked up at him, eyes glassy and aching. “You’re Bucky Barnes. You’re an Avenger. A war hero. And I… I sit at a desk.”

“Stop,” he said instantly, thumb now tracing your cheekbone like he could wipe the pain away.

“I don’t fight aliens. I don’t have powers. I’m just… support staff.” Your voice wavered, trembling like your heart might break in two right there in front of him. “Sharon said you’d get bored of me. That you’ll want someone who can stand beside you in the field.”

His jaw tensed like he’d been struck. A flicker of something dark and cold passed through his expression, steel sharp and silent. His entire body went still.

“She said what?” he asked, voice low and dangerous, but even as the fury gathered behind his eyes, he didn’t let it take hold. He inhaled slowly, grounding himself. Because right now, you were what mattered.

You looked down, ashamed. “Doesn’t matter. She’s not wrong.”

There was a pause. Not long. Just the space of a heartbeat and then the weight of metal settled into your palm with a soft metallic clink.

“Look at me,” he said, voice low but unwavering.

You looked up, surprised by the intensity in his gaze.

“You see these?”

You nodded.

“These?” he said again, his voice thick with meaning as the tags clinked quietly between you. “These don’t just mean soldier. They mean survivor. They mean second chances. They mean you, okay? I don’t give these to anyone. I want you to have them.”

You stared at them, too stunned to speak, too overwhelmed to breathe. They were warm from his skin. Heavy with meaning.

He cupped your face gently, both hands trembling slightly now.

“You’re not support staff. You’re the person I come home to. My person. You keep me grounded. You’re the one thing that’s real.”

Your lips trembled, voice caught in your throat. “Bucky…”

He leaned down, voice husky and sure. “Put them on. Right now.”

You slipped the dog tags around your neck, hands shaking, heart pounding so loud you could hear it in your ears.

“There,” he said, eyes gleaming- not with pride, but with something softer. Fierce, unyielding love. “Now everyone knows. You’re mine. Forever.”

~#~#~#~#~#~

In the hallway, without a word, he scooped you up into his arms. Not rushed. Just worshipful, like you were something sacred he’d been aching to hold all day. You wrapped your arms around his neck, face tucked into the crook of his shoulder as he carried you, his footsteps steady and full of purpose, all the way to his room. Every step was careful, intentional, his hold firm but gentle, like he wanted to shield you from everything that had hurt you today.

He kissed your forehead as he laid you back on the bed, then your cheeks, your jaw, each press of his lips like a vow.

“So beautiful… so smart…” he murmured with each kiss. “Couldn’t do any of this without you.”

His soft kisses pressing into your cheeks, the corners of your mouth. 

“You’re everything to me,” he said, pulling your shirt over your head. “Every breath, every second.”

His mouth moved to your collarbone, your chest, trailing down your stomach , while his hand eased you out of your pants. 

“You think I don’t need you?” he said between kisses, each one a soft promise against your skin. “Baby, I fall apart without you.”

His mouth moved lower, worshipful and unhurried, kissing every inch of you like he was reacquainting himself with something sacred. By the time his tongue slid between your thighs, you were already trembling.

He groaned when you gasped, the sound low and reverent. Not just desire but devotion. His tongue moved with slow, deliberate precision, savouring every soft, slick response he pulled from you. He licked a long, teasing stripe up your centre, then circled your clit with a maddening tenderness, his hands gripping your thighs just firm enough to keep you open and trembling beneath him.

He moaned into you, like the taste of you was salvation, like he’d starved for this and finally had permission to feast. One hand slid up your stomach, grounding you as your hips bucked gently, chasing every press of his mouth.

“So sweet,” he murmured against you, voice thick with love, his lips brushing your most sensitive skin. “Taste like heaven. My heaven.”

He didn’t stop. Not yet. Not when you were trembling so perfectly for him. His tongue moved in slow circles, each pass deliberate and precise, coaxing you higher with gentle persistence. His grip on your thighs tightened slightly as your breath caught, his mouth parting you with reverence.

He flicked his tongue softly, then flattened it, letting the heat of him soak into every nerve ending, every gasp. He alternated pressure and pace, reading every twitch of your body like scripture. When he sucked your clit into his mouth and moaned, the vibration made your entire body arch into him.

“You’re not allowed to think you’re not wanted,” he rasped between strokes, his voice wrecked with affection and need. “Not when I love you.”

You cupped his face as he kissed up your body again, pausing to nuzzle the dog tags now lying warm between your breasts. “You feel like home,” you whispered, eyes glassy, voice raw with truth.

When he finally pressed inside you, it wasn’t fast or greedy. It was achingly slow, like he was trying to carve a place for himself inside you, not just in body but deeper. He let out a low, unsteady breath as he sank in, his forehead dropping to yours, his hand tightening around yours like he couldn’t bear to let go.

He didn’t thrust. Not right away. He stayed there for a beat, deep and still, forehead resting against yours as his breath caught in his throat. His hand stayed tangled in yours, his vibranium one anchored at your hip, grounding you both. “I need this,” he whispered. “Need you. Like this. Just us. You make everything quiet.” Bucky needed you to feel every inch, every part of him that belonged to you.

And then he moved like a tide rolling in to soothe what had been broken, to wash away everything that hurt. His hips rolled back with unhurried grace, then pressed forward again in a smooth, reverent stroke, making sure to drag himself along your velvet walls with each motion, slow and devastatingly deep. The way he filled you, the way he moved inside you. Like he was writing his name into your soul with every breathless thrust, imprinting himself where no one else had ever reached. Every motion was a promise: that he was here, that he was yours, that you were loved in the most complete, carnal, and emotional sense of the word.

Every slow push and pull was deliberate, reverent, the kind of lovemaking that felt like a conversation without words. He kissed your cheek, your jaw, your temple, murmuring softly between each breath.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice cracking as you trembled beneath him. “So damn much it hurts. You make me feel like a man. You see me.”

You cupped his cheek, tears sliding down your temples. “You see me.”

He let out a soft, shaky breath and kissed you again, Bucky pouring everything he had into it.

His rhythm stayed slow but insistent, hips pressing into yours with aching tenderness, like he wanted to be memorized, like he never wanted to be forgotten. The friction, the closeness, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that had ever made him feel whole—it all built into something consuming, something soft and sacred.

When you came, your soft cries muffled into the curve of his neck, he held you tighter, like anchoring himself to you, like if he let go, the whole world would tilt. He whispered your name over and over again like a prayer, like a lifeline, like a vow, following close behind you with a quiet, broken groan into your skin.

And you knew, in that moment, that this wasn’t just sex.

It was coming home.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Afterward, he wrapped the blanket around you both, tucking you into his chest like he was trying to shield you from the rest of the world. His metal fingers traced soft, soothing circles against your spine, grounding you in the silence that settled warmly between you.

“You ever doubt your place again,” he murmured, lips pressed to your hair, voice rough with sleep and sincerity, “I want you to remember tonight. Remember how I touched you. How I looked at you. Remember this.”

You nodded against his chest, overwhelmed, your cheek pressed to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Your fingers curled around the dog tags still resting over your heart, the weight of them a quiet promise.

“I’m yours,” you whispered, the words small but certain.

He smiled, eyes closed as his arm tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

“You always were,” he said, so softly it was nearly a breath, but you felt it more than heard it, like a vow etched beneath your skin.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

"I fucking love you, okay?! I don't want to, but I do." Javier Peña

Angry Confessions ❤️‍😠

bio : this story is part of the Angry Confessions series (you can still be a part of it)

requested by : @lover-of-books-and-tea thank you!

warnings: angst, fuck buddies, jealousy, alcohol, one girl, fight, tears

He wasn't husband material, barely boyfriend material. But as a sex buddy - Javier Peña was perfect. However, things didn't go your way and fate decided to laugh at you.

The first time you felt this strange feeling was when he complimented the nails of the new girl who started working a few desks away. Nothing special, you gritted your teeth and simply decided to ignore it.

The second time he didn't show up at your place, even though he promised. You drank a bottle of wine by yourself, honestly hating yourself for how disappointed you were and how much you wanted Javier to show up.

It was just sex, nothing more. He didn't promise you anything and you never expected it. However, being in Colombia, working and being alone made people stick to each other, and you came across Peña. Did he take advantage of that? Maybe. But you were also an adult and you decided on such an arrangement.

Quick sex, when adrenaline was pumping through your veins and you had to stop thinking, or when the day was really hard. A sweet and lazy morning in bed, when he woke up next to you. Sometimes in the car, or in some closed office.

"You're just perfect, hermosa..." he whispered, pounding into you with all his might, and you tightened your fingers around his broad shoulders.

And there you were. In one of the bars, with a drink in your hand and your gaze fixed on the girl on the other side. Peña was standing right next to her, wrapping her long locks of hair around his finger and smiling like he did many times in your direction. God! You hated him so much.

He must have sensed you, because he looked your way. He kissed the girl's hand, then walked over to you with lazy steps.

“Well, hello hermosa.” he greeted, leaning against the bar next to you. “I didn’t expect you here.”

“I noticed you already had company. I didn’t want to intrude.” You replied, taking a sip of your drink.

“You could always intrude.” His dark eyes slowly raked over your body. Shivers ran down your spine at the sight, it was sickening. “Maybe I should keep you company, huh? Or maybe you’d prefer I get a bottle and we could…”

“No.”

Your response was a shot, and Peña stopped mid-sentence. The smile disappeared from his face. He glanced around the bar.

“You didn’t come with anyone, did you?” he asked, leaning slightly toward you.

“Would you care? I think you were busy with someone.”

Javier glanced at the girl who was still standing where he left her, but his gaze quickly returned to you. “You’re the brightest diamond here, hermosa.”

You rolled your eyes. The alcohol only made your frustration, which had been building up in you for a dozen or so days, grow to enormous proportions. At that moment, you hated everything about him, from his raven hair to the tips of his shoes. Javier Peña was the sin you committed most often and for your own good, you should have stopped.

You didn’t answer. You grabbed your bag and quickly headed for the exit. But you should have known that Peña didn’t give up that easily. He was like a wolf hunting a lamb, and just outside the door you felt, in addition to the fresh air, his hand tighten on your shoulder.

“What’s that supposed to mean, hermosa?” he whispered in your ear. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

You looked at him defiantly. “I don’t have anyone I could be jealous of.” you replied.

“I think otherwise.” he smiled slyly. “You’re always so mad when you see me with someone else, and then we have amazing sex. That’s where this is going, right? You need me. Does she need me too?”

You wanted to punch him in the face. But at the same time, you felt like his words were hitting exactly where they were supposed to. You were dependent on him, he knew that perfectly well.

“You know, baby, you’re my favorite. I love teasing you, because then you turn into such a furious kitten.” His hand ran down your back, a shiver running through it. “I can feel it. You smell of desire... I can smell her all the way here.”

But then he saw it, the change in your eyes that made his heart stop for a moment. Tears were glistening, and you were looking at him in a way that made Javier feel like a fool.

“Fuck, I can’t believe I let you into my bed, Peña.” you hissed quietly. “I was so stupid…”

“What are you talking about?” he wondered. “We both wanted this, right? I didn’t force you to do anything.”

“I was just... stupid and naive.” you mumbled. You pulled away and Javier let go of you, watching you closely.

He didn't understand much. You were one of the closest people to him in the office. Yes, you had slept together. No, you hadn't talked about a relationship or feelings, but he thought that wasn't really what you expected. You knew what he was like. The office gossip was loud enough to get through to you, and you weren't stupid. Besides... You were out of his league. He was already lucky to have gotten to this point with you.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked a little louder, since you were already a few steps away from him, clearly heading home.

You stopped and turned to him. "Excuse me?"

"You've been walking around like crazy for the past few days. And when I get close, you're ready to sting me." He put his hands on his hips, watching you carefully. “What got into you, hermosa? I thought we were-”

“Fuck, I love you, okay?! I don’t want to, but I do.” You blurted out, blushing. “And I hate myself for how I feel when I look at you and those… those girls… Because I know I’m one of them.”

Javier’s eyes widened in understanding. He quickly rubbed his hand over his mouth, feeling his heart speed up. “This is a really bad idea, hermosa…” he finally said, “You know that-”

“I know.” You cut him off, “That’s why I’m mad.”

Javier looked around and slowly walked over to you. You felt so bad you just wanted to disappear. But when he spoke, God, you wanted to die.

“I’m not the guy who’s going to give you what you deserve, hermosa.” he said, “I’m sorry, but… You deserve better.”

You quickly wiped away a tear that rolled down your cheek. Your ears were ringing. "I know that perfectly well, Peña." You snorted. "That's why I'm not even asking you for anything. Just... foranget I said all that."

He knew he wouldn't forget, but he nodded. A moment later, he was watching your silhouette as you disappeared into the crowd of people, and he was still standing like an idiot where you left him.

This wasn't supposed to happen like this. He had screwed up.

[berryzoey]

BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 : zoey

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : your parents recently told you that they were getting a divorce, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it. the feeling eats at you until your girlfriend confronts you about it.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : mentions of divorce, lots of crying, hugs, and kisses (comfort to the max), reader has trouble speaking when upset

𝐚/𝐧 : i’ve been struggling with this situation lately so i decided to write my feelings out. i cried while writing this, and it helped. i hope that this finds people who are struggling too and offers them comfort, you are not alone.

Divorce.

A short word, yet a strong one. It cuts deep, piercing your heart. To you, it wasn’t a word that you would use to describe your parents relationship, at least not before this. But, you wouldn’t call them happy. When you were younger, arguing between them was not common, at least not to the first glimpse of the eye. Your childhood was happy, you loved your family and they loved you in return, with everything they had. If they were only able to save one spot in their heart for someone, you would be the one sitting with them.

A silent promise was made; you would never be alone, there would always be a roof over your head, and there would always be food on the table.

So, why did you feel so lonely?

Your older sister and older brother didn’t seem as upset as you did over the situation, perhaps because they were wiser than you. They had known for much longer of the truth behind why your parents had decided this was the best decision for them; the lies, the truth, the history. You knew from your early teens what they were truly like, your brother never liked to keep secrets from you. But, the feeling churning within you was like a hurricane; building quickly yet calming as soon as it started. It was difficult to stay angry, especially with your family.

Your loved ones knew this, and they quickly assured that this would be no different. They would be at the phone answering your call if you wanted to talk about it, and stay by your side if you needed to cry. When the words that they were separating were uttered, there bore no expression on your face. Maybe it was because you had known this was going to happen eventually. Maybe it was because you knew this was right for both of them. Maybe it was because you understood they weren’t going to be hurting each other any longer, that they were free to do as they dreamed.

It may have been wrong, but a part of you was more upset about moving away from your home.

The house you had lived in since you entered this world had many fond memories; making colorful pancakes with whatever miscellaneous food dye you had in your baking box, watching your older brother play video games on your crappy couch as you sat next to him and snacked on your cereal, sitting with your sister as she applied her makeup to go out to dinner with your family. The wallpaper torn off the walls from playing too rough, the indents in the carpet from your toy box that had been gone for several years, and the room you used to play dress up in everyday would be gone.

It wouldn’t be your home anymore, it would be someone else’s.

But, maybe you had been holding onto the past too tightly. A fear had always been lurking inside you, one that was just waiting to burst out and jump at you with its fangs bared. You were afraid of growing up, but it was something that you had to do. No matter what you do, you can’t stop time from ticking forward. You knew that, yet you were still afraid. That fear wasn’t because of age. It was because you were afraid of growing apart from the people you loved most. Those memories were simple, mundane, but they held a special place in your heart. You were all together during those days, and now you were falling apart.

Maybe that was the curse of being the youngest.

These feelings were beginning to weigh deeper and deeper onto your shoulders, though, no one could see it. You liked to keep people smiling, even though darkness was beginning to creep on you. Worrying others was the last thing you wanted to do, you didn’t want others' pain to be because of you. That is why you liked to keep silent until it became too much to handle, causing you to lash out without meaning to do so.

You didn’t like to bottle it up, but it was only action you were confident with taking.

Your siblings had noticed it, your parents had noticed it, but most of all; Zoey had noticed it.

She was one of the first people you told about your new situation, and she was extremely sympathetic. Tears were shed for you before you could even manage to form your own, that was just the type of person she was. Generous, empathetic, caring, and brave. She was braver than you, that’s for certain. The girl was able to conquer her insecurities and hardships, while you had just begun to climb that mountain.

The journey was going slow, too slow. You wanted it to go faster, to save the pain and make it quick.

But, maybe you could wallow in it, just for a little while.

So there you laid, curled up under the sheets of your girlfriend's bed as the sun had finally set. You were thinking, maybe too much. Images of yesteryear were running through your mind, a part of you wondering why it felt awkward to be in your own home, how things had come to be this way. You knew the answer, you just didn’t want to believe that it was true. It made you want to cry, even just a tear. The feeling was already welling up in your eyes. But, you wouldn’t let yourself.

Then suddenly, the door to Zoey’s room began to open.

As the door creaked open, a faint sliver of light shone into the room. Quickly, you sat up as you wiped away the water building up in your eyes. Soon, the image of your girlfriend came into view along with your friends close behind her. In their hands were baskets filled with relaxing materials; a soft microfiber towel for their hair, a large fluffy towel for their bodies, and rollers to massage their faces. In your girlfriend's arms, she held her own. However, in her other was another basket; one meant for you. You knew just by one glance that the items in it were intended for you, they were folded neatly into cute hearts.

She had made it for you herself.

It was sickeningly sweet, and a guilty feeling couldn’t help but surface to your stomach.

The girl quietly bent down next to the side of the bed you laid upon, an eager expression on her face. “[Name], would you like to join us in the bathhouse?” She whispered as she placed a gentle hand on your arm.

The words that left your mouth felt like you were drinking poison; painful and slow. Since you were a child, it felt wrong to deny people or tell them to ask someone else. Especially the ones you loved most. “I’m sorry, Zoey. Maybe another night.”

The girl's eyes widened, shocked that you would say no to a night in the bathhouse. It was past time between the two of you, Mira joining with you after you had begun training together, and ever since Rumi had opened up about her demon patterns, she had joined in too. Each moment was filled with laughter and relaxation, like you were sitting in liquid sunshine. It was calm, soothing, and most of all, you felt like you belonged. Like there was a mutual understanding between each of you that you wouldn’t be alone.

Zoey knew you better than this anyway, something had to be wrong. Immediately, she stood up straight, giving your friends a certain look. In return, they gave her a nod of understanding. Without saying a word, they picked up both yours and Zoey’s baskets and left the room, closing the door behind them.

She then turned back to you, a small smile present on her face. “Y’know what? I’m not feeling the bathhouse tonight, let’s just chill in bed for a while, or whatever you want to do!” Her voice was chipper, but there was a hint of worry behind it.

You were quick to insist that she didn’t have to stay, that she should go have fun with your friends while you were left to your thoughts again. “You don’t have to do that, Zoey. If you want to go with Mira and Rumi to the ba-”

But, she wouldn’t have it. “Nope, I’m staying with you tonight!” She insisted, lifting up her comforter on the opposite side of you.

A giggle left your lips as your girlfriend snuggled under the covers with you, laying a head on your shoulder as you took out your phone. “Okay, I wasn’t intending to do anything interesting though.” You teased as you began to type your password.

“That’s fine! Being with you is equally as relaxing as a nice bath.” She merely snuggled deeper in your side as you opened TikTok.

For a long time, the two of you only laid there basking in each other's presence. An occasional laugh or giggle would fill the silence as you scrolled, or a relieved sigh would be released at a heartwarming story, but then it reached a certain video. It was a lyric video, one that showcased the lyrics to popular songs just for views. At first, you were just going to scroll past it. But, then it began to play a familiar song.

“When you cycled by

Here began all my dreams

The saddest thing I’ve ever seen”

Back to the Old House by The Smiths. The tone and mood was sorrowful, as were the lyrics. Their songs had a knack for baring heavy lyrics, but they never bothered you. You enjoyed it, they told a story. This one though, the feeling was too familiar to you. Too close. Too real. So, you sat there. Staring at your screen as you kept watching the words pass by, taking in the thought that maybe this was what you were feeling.

Nostalgia, regret, bittersweetness.

Before you knew it, the tears had begun to rise again and a warm sensation rose to your cheeks.

Zoey knew something was wrong, but you insisted that you would be okay. You always were going to be okay. This, however, was her last straw. She couldn’t accept the fact you were suffering in silence while you insisted she leave you to your devices to think, curse her hardwired nature to please the people around her no matter what. She had known you were feeling this way, yet she left you alone. The girl wasn’t going to let that be the case any longer.

As you continued to stare at your phone, almost entranced, she quietly whispered to you. “Be honest with me, I’ve noticed you’ve been more… quietly lately.”

You didn’t utter a word, pausing the music coming from your phone. The slow turn of your head towards her and the welling of tears in your eyes that threatened to leak were enough of an answer. “Is it bothering you more than you let on?” She asked, though she didn’t even need you to tell her. She already knew.

For a moment, you hesitated. Then, gave her a nod.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Another nod.

The girl shifted without a word, lowering your body against hers as you lay against her torso. A pair of arms snaked around you, one on the crown of your head and the other around your midsection. Her hands were warm, welcoming. The softness of her embrace felt like you were on a cloud, floating freely through the sky as the wind guided you. “I just… don’t want to burden anyone with these feelings…” Your voice wavered, choking back a sob.

A nimble hand began running through your hair, fingers delicately removing the small tangles in your hair. “You’re not going to burden anyone with your feelings, sweetheart. I’m here to hear you.” Her voice was tender, soothing, serene.

That was the breaking point, it was all you needed to hear.

The tears she could see welling up in your eyes, the frown your lips made in attempts not to release your sobs, the sniffles from your nose; it all came crashing down in a single instant. The tears in your eyes finally leaked, streaking down your face and onto your girlfriend's shirt. Struggling to breath properly, you hiccuped and released the most pitiful, pain stricken sobs the girl had ever heard. It made her gut wrench with the most awful feeling, and her own tears began to form at your pain. “I’m scared… that things won’t be the same anymore… and that I won’t feel like I have… a home anymore.” You sniffled, struggling to speak as you gripped her clothing to ground you.

“It’s okay, keep going.” She whispered, moving her hand to cover your own.

“It sounds stupid… but what if Christmas isn’t the same anymore? …Will I have two separate celebrations? But, I want everyone to be there…”, your body wracked even harder with sobs just at the thoughts, the images of what could be. “No more going to grandma's house on Christmas Eve and doing… dumb stuff to entertain ourselves before eating like pigs and patiently waiting to open presents…”

There was a silence, then. “It feels wrong..”

A far off look was in your eyes, “But, I know… it’s what’s right for them. So, why… does it hurt so much?”

She understood, all too well. “I felt the same way with my parents when I was younger. It felt like I was being pulled in two different directions, with no clear path. But, that doesn’t mean that it has to be the case for you.”

Removing her hands from your body, she gently cupped your cheeks. A gaze full of all the love and reassurance you could ask for was pointed directly at you, unwavering as she shed her own tears. Sharing your pain and sadness, understanding you. “Your family loves you, a lot. I love you even more.” She whispered, resting her head against yours. “Why don’t you be honest with them? Tell them what you told me. I’m sure they’d like to hear it from you, and they’d be more than willing to listen to you and understand you.”

“Even my hard headed sister?” You mumbled, choking back another sob.

“Even your hard headed sister.”

A faint chuckle left you, a small smile now present on your face. “Thank you for listening…”

She then pressed a soft kiss on your lips, staying there for a moment, then hesitantly pulling away. “Always.”

You nuzzled your head further into her side as she continued to comb her fingers through your hair, calming the tremors in your chest as your sobs subsided. “Your hugs feel just like the ones my parents give.” You whispered, lifting your hand to touch the arm that curled back around your waist.

“They’re nice and warm, reassuring…”, your breathing finally slowed as your eyes struggled to stay open. “… they feel like home.”

Then, as your vision faded into black, light snores began to fall from your lips.

Zoey didn’t utter another word, only laid with you as you slept peacefully, snaking her arms around you more tightly. And finally, she placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head.

Maybe, this was all you needed.

@𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐳𝐨𝐞𝐲 °❀.ೃ࿔ - please do not translate or plagiarize my works.

[paperbodiesamongthestars]

Halfway out the door, but it won't close

Yeah, I'm still mad. The show flatly refuses to address the emotional fallout of the events that take place on it, so I guess I'll do it myself.

Title from Say Don't Go by Taylor Swift, because I love a T Swift lyric as a fic title.

Read the whole thing below, or on AO3.

For the first time in a long time, Buck wants to run. 

The roots he spent so many years putting down washed away more easily than he ever could have imagined, and that hurts. He’s always known Bobby was important—the linchpin of the 118, in addition to being the father Buck always wanted—but Buck was somehow still surprised when things spiraled apart so quickly and so completely without him. 

And Buck gets it. He does. Everyone is retreating into their own corners, taking comfort from their families, and that’s good. He’s glad everyone has that kind of support system. He’s glad they have families to lean on, and to grieve with. 

He just wishes he had someone in his corner too. 

And Maddie’s got him—he knows she does. If he called, she’d be there in a heartbeat, no questions asked. But she’s pregnant. And Chimney almost died. And Bobby did die, making sure Chimney got out. They have a lot going on, and Buck doesn’t want to be selfish. 

Besides, he’s managing. Sure, he wishes he didn’t feel quite so alone all the time, and he wishes that all of the ways he’s trying to help weren’t fundamentally selfish, like they apparently are, but he’s dealing. The hardest part is that he’s been doing his best to be what everyone else needs—to live up to Bobby’s last words—and he’s falling short. He doesn’t—he’s really not sure what else to try, at this point. 

It really doesn’t feel like anyone wants him to keep trying. 

The temptation to pack up his jeep and just choose a direction is intense. He doesn’t, because he promised to take over Eddie’s lease, and Maddie’s baby is coming, and maybe there’s something Athena will need from him at some point, but he looks at the horizon on his way to work and all he sees is freedom.  

He compromises, and requests a transfer. The 118 doesn’t mean what it used to, to him, and maybe at another house he can get up for work without feeling like the grief is going to pull him under. Maybe at another house he’ll stop wanting to take a hard turn onto the freeway, and drive until he loses track of where he is. The 118 is already changing anyway. Eddie will head back to Texas, and the team will get a new captain at some point, and Buck isn’t at all sure that he can see someone else in that seat. Maybe this way he can keep his love of the job, even if it feels like he’s lost just about everything else he cares about. 

And then the building goes down, and the 118 pulls together to help. 

Buck withdraws the transfer paperwork. He doesn’t want to feel disloyal to Bobby’s memory. Going to work every day at that station, like things can ever go back to the way they were before, still makes him feel like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s paralyzed; every decision he wants to make feels like the wrong one. 

What he really needs to do is start looking for an apartment. Eddie and Chris are coming back to LA, and of course Buck is going to give him them their house back. He’s happy they’re returning—obviously he is. And the house never really felt like home anyway, aside from—well. It’s never felt like his, is all, aside from one bright, hopeful morning in the kitchen. 

He tries not to think about that too much. The warm light, and the billowing hope in his chest, and Tommy’s familiar scrunchy smile before everything went sideways. It’s too bright to look at for long, so he’s gotten used to locking it away again. 

He should call Tommy, probably, but it feels like it’s been too long. Tommy took a lot of risks to help them, and came to the funeral when Athena asked, to round out Bobby’s first team at the 118, and Buck didn’t even call him after. Never really thanked him. He’s got some texts on his phone—how are you really doing?—that he never responded to, and a couple of voicemails he hasn’t listened to. So yeah, he assumes that window is closed, no matter how much Tommy put on the line for him—for them. 

It’s one more thing that Buck used to have and doesn’t anymore. 

Buck is quiet at work, and the team thinks he doesn’t see the worried glances and the wordless conversations. No one asks him about anything, so he doesn’t share. He spends a lot of time thinking about how he used to picture his life, where he thought he’d end up. 

It should be enough, to have what he has now. He has his sister and the 118. He’s loved, certainly.  He matters to people—he knows he does. But it doesn’t feel like quite enough anymore. He knows everyone lost Bobby, and everyone is dealing with it in their own way, but he doesn’t think he should have to feel like an afterthought, or an inconvenience. He has the vague sense that he shouldn’t have to keep making his grief smaller, but he does it anyway. What else can he do?  

Eddie sets a firm date for his return, and he keeps telling Buck that he doesn’t have to move out, but Buck does. He does have to move out. It’s just—it’s the right thing to do. He thinks it is, anyway, but maybe he’s making it all about him again. He can’t tell anymore. 

Buck goes on calls, and he gradually packs his life back into boxes and labels them, and he goes to look at apartments. He doesn’t find any that he likes. They’re too small, or too dark, or in the wrong neighborhood, or they just don’t feel right. Big shock there—nothing feels right to him. 

Buck knows his realtor is frustrated when he tells her the kitchen in one of the units faces the wrong direction, and he gets it; he’s frustrated with himself. 

Buck goes back to his—to Eddie’s—to the mostly packed house, and he finally admits to himself that he’s not really looking for an apartment. 

He goes to see Gerrard, with a request for vacation this time. 

“It’s a good chunk of time,” Gerrard says slowly, from behind the desk where Bobby should still be sitting. 

“It is,” Buck agrees.

“Sometimes staying busy is better, in these situations,” Gerrard says. Buck can tell he’s trying to be gentle about it, but all he can see is Tommy’s shoulders hunching when Gerrard all but called him a fairy at the medal ceremony. He doesn’t waver. He holds Gerrard’s gaze until the man looks away, clears his throat, and signs the request. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Buckley.” He sounds irritated, and Buck feels a little better. He also hopes he knows what he’s doing, but he has a good feeling about it. He’s optimistic, maybe, for the first time in a while. 

Buck shows up to his next shift with a countdown clock in his head, and the rush of relief he feels almost makes him dizzy. He’s got another ten days before his time off starts, but it’s sitting there on the horizon now, an emergency exit, an escape hatch from his life.

He feels steadier now that he can see it up ahead. He’s a little more settled in himself, and he knows everyone sees it. His friends exchange relieved glances when they think he isn’t looking, and some part of him wonders why they can’t just talk to him. He wonders why they couldn’t just sit him down and tell him they were worried, but maybe that’s unfair. Maybe everyone is doing their best, and Bobby’s loss is just insurmountable. It feels that way sometimes, like Buck won’t survive this. It feels like all the bonds tethering him to his life snapped at once, and they’re just dangling now, the severed edges fraying by the day. 

Buck doesn’t say anything about the time off. He works and he smiles at his friends, and no one eats together or makes plans to hang out after work. He tries not to be too hard on himself for giving up—for betraying the last thing Bobby asked him to do. He tried—he really did—but he just can’t anymore. He can’t throw himself into holding everything together when no one seems to want to be held. 

He hopes Bobby would understand, but he can’t be sure.  

The day finally comes. Buck’s stuff is packed into his jeep or his new storage unit. He works his last shift and still doesn’t say anything. He thinks about it, but he’s not sure what he would even say. He figures his friends will have questions when he doesn’t show up for the next shift, but that’s a couple of days from now. Maybe by then, he’ll be far enough away to have found some answers. 

Buck makes it a little over an hour into his drive, heading north, before he has to pull over; he’s crying so hard he’s afraid he’s going to hit something. He takes the next exit, doesn’t see the number through his tears, and parks in the first parking lot he finds. He turns the car off, leans over the steering wheel, and gives in to his sobs. 

He’s not sure how much time has passed when he takes one deep breath, and then another. He feels calm for the first time in a while, emptied—for the moment—of the deep, terrible sorrow that’s been suffocating him for so long. He cleans off his face and then sits up straighter and looks around. He’s parked near a Jack-in-the-Box and he’s suddenly starving, so he goes inside and orders about half the menu. He goes back to his car to eat, windows down, staring unseeing at his surroundings as he thinks. 

Getting even this far out of LA, he feels like his brain has rebooted itself, like he’s stepped out of a fog and can suddenly see clearly again. He considers what he wants to do next. 

He could turn around. He could drive back into the city, and find a place to stay for a couple of weeks while he keeps looking at apartments, and he could use the time off to get settled into a new place. He could rebuild his routine. The thought of it makes a pit of dread open up in his stomach, so that’s a no. 

He could keep going. He could get back on the road, head north the way he planned, drive until he feels like stopping and find a place to stay the night. He could do that for weeks—he’s got six of them before he has to be back at work. It’s what he should do, probably. He could rely on himself, learn how to be alone. Only he feels like he’s already pretty good at that. He’s been alone a lot in his life, and he knows he could do it. But six weeks on his own suddenly feels a lot more like loneliness than freedom. 

Buck tilts his head back against the headrest and closes his eyes. With this unexpected—and almost certainly temporary—feeling of calm and clarity, he’s suddenly confronting some uncomfortable revelations. 

Underneath the grief and the helplessness he’s been feeling for weeks, he’s angry. He’s angry at Eddie for getting in his face, and for implying that he didn’t do everything he could to save Bobby. It felt like shit to hear it, and Eddie was a dick for saying it. He’s angry at the rest of the team, too. For not taking him seriously. For assuming he was as fine as he seemed, even after losing someone who was more of a father to him than his own father ever was. For not even asking where he was moving to when he left Eddie’s house. He loves Chim, but maybe he was wrong; maybe Buck doesn’t owe it to Bobby’s memory to stay in a place where he doesn’t really feel seen anymore.

Buck knows he’s a lot—he can be a lot. But he also knows that he’s grown up in the last few years. He’s loyal, and will do anything for the people he loves. And even before Bobby died, he wasn’t getting that back from his friends. He understands why—they all have lives, and kids, and it’s been a crazy year for everyone. But he consistently made the effort to be there for them, and it doesn’t feel great that no one could find the time to do that for him. 

Well. One person did. One person always showed up for him.  

Maybe Buck doesn’t actually need to get out of LA for six weeks. Maybe he needs some space from his friends and family until he’s got a better handle on his anger with them. But maybe he doesn’t have to spend the next six weeks alone. 

It’s entirely possible that Buck’s silence the past few weeks closed that door for good. But Tommy’s been texting and calling, even though he’s not getting anything back, so maybe it didn’t. There’s only one way to find out. 

It’s early afternoon by the time Buck parks in front of Tommy’s house. He doesn’t know Tommy’s schedule anymore, but he gets lucky—Tommy’s truck is parked in the driveway. Buck’s hands are sweaty all of a sudden, and some of the conviction he felt earlier has drained away. There’s enough left to propel him out of the jeep, though, and up the steps onto Tommy’s porch. 

He rings the doorbell and waits. It’s only a few seconds before Tommy opens the door. His face creases with surprise when he sees Buck, but his eyes are warm. 

“Hi,” Buck says a little awkwardly, and then he barrels on before Tommy can say anything in return. “I want to be friends,” he blurts, without really meaning to. Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up and then furrow as he frowns, and Buck watches his eyes shutter, the way they did in the kitchen that morning. “For now!” he adds hastily. “I’d like to be friends for now.” 

Tommy’s expression does something decidedly judgmental before he gets a handle on it. He’s such a bitch sometimes, and Buck likes him so goddamn much. Loves him, in fact, but he thought about it the whole drive here, and he’s a mess right now; if he says it for the first time today, neither one of them will ever trust it.

“Maybe you should come in,” Tommy says slowly, and his tone is so neutral that Buck winces. It’s fine. He can fix this. Tommy’s willing to at least hear him out. 

He follows Tommy into the kitchen, and sits on one of the barstools at the island while Tommy makes two cups of coffee. He slides one over to Buck and sits at one of the other stools. He’s got his expression under control now, and Buck hates it. Tommy’s so expressive when he’s comfortable that this carefully polite mask feels like a slap. 

Still, Buck feels more relaxed right now than he has in weeks, just because Tommy is sitting across from him, watching him, and yeah, he should probably start explaining. 

“I put in for a transfer,” he says, and there go the eyebrows again. Buck smiles despite himself. “I withdrew the request, later, but then I took some time off. Kind of a lot of time off, actually.” He has a thought, and he looks up. “S-sorry I didn’t get back to you.” 

Tommy shakes his head. “It’s fine, Evan. I figured you were busy with your family.”

“Not, uh. Not so much,” he says, feeling tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. “It’s”—he waves a hand—“everyone has their own families, you know?”

Tommy’s frowning at him now. “You’re their family too,” he says slowly, like it’s an obvious truth, and that does it. The tears come, and so does the whole of the last few weeks, words spilling out and over each other as Buck tries to convey his loneliness, and helplessness, and what Bobby said, and how hard he tried, and how no one seemed to want that, and then Eddie—

He loses the thread a little bit, and he’s not sure what he’s saying. He’s trying to get the important parts out through the tears, but he’s not sure he’s even making sense anymore. And then Tommy’s arms are around him, big and warm and grounding, and he stops talking at all and just cries for a little while. 

When Buck is composed again, Tommy takes a step back. Buck wishes he wouldn’t, but he holds out his hand and Tommy takes it, and that’s something. There are some things Buck still needs to say. 

“It got a little jumbled earlier, so I’m not sure if I mentioned it, but I, uh. I gave Eddie his house back.”

“You said,” Tommy says, and squeezes his hand. 

“I didn’t find a new apartment,” Buck admits. “I was going to go on a road trip, just drive for the next few weeks, stay wherever I felt like staying.”

“That sounds nice,” Tommy says. 

“It did at first,” Buck says. “Then it sounded really lonely.” Tommy makes a soft noise in his throat. “So I—I turned around and came here instead.”

“Because you want to be friends,” Tommy says slowly. 

“Because I want to be friends right now,” Buck corrects. “I absolutely want to try again. I wanted to try again last time, before—but I screwed it up.”

“Pretty sure I screwed it up,” Tommy says. 

Buck shrugs. “Maybe we both did. I want to do it right. But I’m a mess right now, and I don’t want you to think that I’m only here because…because everything else in my life is falling apart. I want to choose to try again when we’re both solid.”

Tommy nods, but his gaze stays on the countertop in front of him. “What if”—he clears his throat—“what if you get your feet under you, and realize this isn’t what you want?”

“I won’t,” Buck says, calm and sure. He tugs on Tommy’s hand to get him to look up. “Tommy, I won’t. I’ve been missing you for months. The only reason I want to wait is because I want both of us to know for sure that we’re building on a solid foundation, okay?”

Tommy stares for a long moment, searching his face, and then he gives one short nod. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, okay.”

Buck can feel the smile stretching over his face. “Yeah?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Tommy says, and smiles back. 

“I thought you weren’t ready to move in together yet,” Buck says without thinking, when Tommy shows him the spare room. 

Tommy rolls his eyes. “This doesn’t count. This is me helping out a friend, like everyone should do.” His tone is pointed, and Buck tries to ignore the little burst of pleasure he gets from knowing Tommy is mad on his behalf. He can work on being less petty about it later. 

“Yeah?” Buck asks. 

“Evan,” Tommy says, leaning in. His voice is low and intimate. “When I actually ask you to move in with me, you’ll know it.”

“Yeah?” Buck asks again, and it’s a lot breathier this time. 

“Yes,” Tommy says with a smirk, and Buck briefly wonders how committed he has to be to the friends thing. He watches Tommy saunter out the door, heading for the kitchen, and he firmly reminds himself that waiting is the responsible choice, and will absolutely be worth it.  

He’s by himself for the moment, but he doesn’t feel alone at all. He looks around the spare room, at his clothes hanging in the closet, and the soft blue comforter on the bed. Tommy put fresh sheets on it earlier, and they smell faintly of lavender. He sits on the edge of the bed, closes his eyes, and breathes. He feels good here, safe and comfortable and wanted. 

He knows his grief will be back, and the real world will intrude sooner rather than later. He’ll have decisions to make, and explanations to give when the team realizes he’s gone. He and Tommy still have a lot of talking to do. 

For right now, though, he can smell the faint scent of lavender, and Tommy’s body wash underneath that. He can hear the sound of Tommy moving around in the kitchen, and birds chirping at each other outside the window. His hand moves over the comforter, and he feels the echo of Tommy’s palm against his. 

Buck blinks his eyes open and smiles to himself. He’s not okay yet—not by a long shot—but for the first time since Bobby died, he knows that he’s going to be.  

[hameesstuff]

"One Step Closer"

As promised, here's the story :)

Pairing: Ceo! Jaehyun x Secretary! Reader

Summary: He was her cold, control-obsessed CEO; she was the chaos he never asked for but couldn’t ignore. What started as daily arguments and eye-rolls turned into rainy rooftop confessions and stolen kisses. Somewhere between the sarcasm and soft mornings, they fell—hard and unexpectedly.

CEO Jaehyun x Secretary Reader | Enemies to Lovers | Slow Burn | Angst | Humor | Fluff

Word count: ~11k

___________________________________________

PART 1: Everything He Isn’t

There was something violent about the way he walked. Calm, controlled violence.

Every morning at exactly 6:57 a.m., Jung Jaehyun swept into the building with the kind of purpose that made even the security guards sit up straighter. His suit was pressed, hair perfect, eyes sharp enough to slice through glass. He never missed a beat. And he never acknowledged you unless it was to point out a mistake.

“Miss ___,” he said today, not even glancing at you as you matched his pace. “You’re five minutes late.”

“I’m two minutes early.”

“Then you’re five minutes late to being five minutes early.”

You didn’t flinch. “Did you memorize that from one of your management books, or is that original?”

He stopped walking. You nearly collided into him. His eyes finally found yours—dark, unreadable, and unreadably beautiful.

“Do you want to be fired, or are you just hoping I’ll lose interest first?”

You smiled. Tight-lipped. “Neither. I just want to survive the day without being treated like a defective robot.”

His phone buzzed. He looked away.

That was the thing about Jung Jaehyun. You could set yourself on fire right in front of him, and he’d critique the flame temperature.

Working for him was like constantly drowning in invisible water.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t swear. He didn’t even speak loudly. But his silence was a weapon. The way his pen would pause mid-signature when you entered. The way he corrected your grammar via email but never face to face. The way he thanked everyone except you when a project succeeded.

And yet… you’d lasted eight months. Longer than the previous secretary, who left after five and a half weeks with what HR called “emotional exhaustion.”

Why? Because you were stubborn. And maybe, deep down, you wanted to understand why someone who looked like him—who moved like him—was so completely unreachable.

You met Johnny in the break room after a particularly awful morning.

“He said what?” he laughed, nearly spilling his coffee.

“‘Fix this before it fixes you,’” you quoted, mimicking Jaehyun’s clipped tone. “It was about a typo.”

Johnny leaned against the counter, still grinning. “You know what your problem is?”

“You mean besides voluntarily working for a sociopath?”

“You fight him back.” He raised a brow. “He doesn’t know what to do with people who don’t flinch.”

You stared into your coffee. “I don’t want to fight him. I just want him to stop treating me like… like I’m a placeholder.”

Johnny studied you. “You don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?”

But he just smiled into his mug. “Never mind.”

The Tipping Point

It happened on a Tuesday. Always a Tuesday, when you let your guard down.

The board meeting had gone sideways. An international partner pulled out last minute, and tension was coiled in every inch of Jaehyun’s posture when he returned to the office.

You were waiting at his door with an updated proposal. He didn’t look at you as he took it.

Thirty seconds later, his voice cracked through the glass.

“Why is this still formatted in the old layout?”

You blinked. “Because we haven’t received confirmation on the revised template—”

“I told you last week to anticipate the shift.”

“No, you implied we should prepare in case it was approved. It hasn’t been.”

He stood. Slowly. Like thunder building.

“This company doesn’t run on what’s implied, Miss ___. It runs on competence. If you can’t grasp the difference, maybe this position is too much for you.”

The words hit harder than you expected. Too much. You. Like you weren’t enough. Like you were the weak link in a chain he didn’t even believe you belonged in.

So you did something you never had before.

You turned and walked out.

Didn’t ask permission. Didn’t justify yourself. You left the report, the room, and him—standing in silence.

PART 2: Smoke & Spark

Johnny’s birthday party was the kind of event people talked about for weeks afterward.

Not because of the cake. Not even because of the expensive liquor or the live DJ in the middle of his penthouse balcony.

But because everyone showed up—and so did Jaehyun.

You weren’t planning on going. You’d ignored the group chat, ignored Johnny’s texts, and only considered it when he called you directly:

“If you don’t come, I’ll start spreading rumors that you’re in love with our CEO.”

“I’m already rumored to be his personal punching bag.”

“Perfect. Come as his emotional support pet.”

You almost laughed. And then you showed up.

The Scene

You walked in wearing a soft champagne slip dress with a low back and strappy heels that made your legs look dangerous. Not because you were trying to get attention. But because you needed to feel like something other than Jung Jaehyun’s personal piñata.

Johnny whistled the second he saw you. “Jesus. I almost regret setting you up for this.”

You blinked. “Setting me up?”

He grinned. “Jaehyun’s here.”

Your stomach flipped. Not in a cute way. In a don’t trip over your own feet way.

And then you saw him.

Black suit, no tie, collar undone just slightly—like he’d shown up straight from work and didn’t know how to relax. His hand held a half-empty tumbler of whiskey. His eyes found you instantly.

And they stayed on you.

You looked away first.

Later, on the balcony

The city glittered below you. You’d had half a drink and were starting to think maybe you could survive the night without punching someone.

That was when the balcony door slid open behind you.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

You didn’t turn around. “I didn’t come for you.”

“I didn’t say you did.”

He stopped beside you, just far enough away to be polite. Just close enough to ruin your breathing.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You sipped your drink. “Or maybe I just like peace.”

“I deserved that.”

You scoffed. “You deserve worse.”

He didn’t argue. He just looked at you.

“You’re good at what you do,” he said suddenly. “Better than most people I’ve hired.”

You blinked. “Did you hit your head?”

“No.”

“Are you drunk?”

He gave the smallest smile. “No.”

“Then why are you suddenly complimenting me like I’m about to get hit by a truck?”

There was silence between you. Heavy. Almost tender.

“Because I saw your face,” he said quietly, “after I said what I said that day. And it’s been… bothering me.”

You turned, really turned, to look at him now. “So what, this is guilt?”

“No. This is the closest thing I know to an apology.”

“And what does that make me? The closest thing you know to a person?”

That hit. You saw it.

“I didn’t realize you cared what I thought,” he said, voice low.

“I didn’t,” you snapped. “Until I did.”

His jaw clenched. His fingers wrapped tighter around the glass.

You stepped closer, feeling anger and something else rise in your throat.

“You treat me like I’m disposable. Replaceable. Like I’m always one mistake away from being nothing.”

“I don’t—”

“You do.”

Silence.

Then softly, quietly: “That’s not what you are to me.”

The city spun below, the bass from the party thudded through glass, and your heart was a war drum in your chest.

You didn’t move.

Neither did he.

But something had cracked. And you both felt it.

PART 3: Rain Between Us

You didn’t mean to stay so late.

But after hours of biting your tongue while Jaehyun barked orders like he was building an empire with your sanity, you needed air. Not office air. Not elevator air. Real air.

The sky was heavy when you climbed up to the rooftop—grey clouds low and angry. But you didn’t care.

The second the first raindrops hit your cheeks, you closed your eyes and laughed.

It wasn’t graceful.

It wasn’t poetic.

You kicked off your heels, spun in circles, held your arms out like a drunk ballerina. The hem of your skirt clung to your thighs. Your hair frizzed in the wet air. And you laughed—giddy and breathless—as the rain poured harder, like the universe had finally decided to cry with you.

You twirled, clumsily talking to the sky like an idiot.

“Bet you’re having a great time watching me drown in email threads and printer jams, huh?” you shouted up, voice cracking with laughter.

The wind howled back.

And then—

A voice.

Cold. Low. Disbelieving.

“…What the hell are you doing?”

You froze.

Turned.

And there he was.

Jaehyun. Standing in the open rooftop door, already soaked. His white shirt clung to him. Hair dripping. Jaw tight.

“You—” He stepped out, letting the door slam shut behind him. “Are you insane?”

“Probably!” you yelled over the rain. “But I’m happy. Can’t say the same for you.”

He stalked toward you, water pooling around his shoes.

“You’re going to catch a cold.”

“Good. Maybe I’ll finally get sick leave.”

He looked ready to scream.

“You think this is funny?” he snapped. “You’re acting like a child—”

“You’re acting like a dictator!”

That hit.

You breathed hard. Rain blurred everything.

“You know what your problem is, Jaehyun?” you hissed, stepping toward him. “You’re miserable, and you can’t stand when someone else isn’t.”

His eyes burned into yours. “You think Johnny makes you happy?”

Your heart skipped.

“That what this is about?”

“You laugh with him. You smile like he means something.”

“Because he treats me like I mean something!” you yelled.

Silence.

Rain poured. Thunder cracked far off.

“You shouldn’t care,” you said softer now, stepping back. “I’m just your secretary, right?”

He was in front of you in two long strides.

“Stop saying that like it’s true.”

You blinked up at him, rain running down your face like tears.

“Why do you care, Jaehyun?”

He didn’t answer.

He just stared at you like he hated how much he wanted you.

And then—

He kissed you.

Hard.

Like a dam finally snapping open.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t polite. It was soaked, wild, angry. His hands gripped your waist. Your fingers fisted his shirt. The rain clung to your skin but none of it mattered because he was warm. He was real.

It was chaos. And it was everything.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

Both of you panting.

Both of you ruined.

“I don’t know what this means,” he whispered.

“But I can’t stop wanting you.”

You didn’t speak.

You just kissed him again.

Softer this time.

Because sometimes, the rain doesn’t wash things away—it brings them to the surface.

PART 4: Midnight Cake & Secret Kisses

You shouldn’t be here.

You knew that the moment you rang the bell to Jaehyun’s penthouse.

But here you were—hair a mess, shoes squeaking from the light drizzle outside, holding a badly taped cake box like it was a peace offering… or maybe a ticking time bomb.

The door swung open.

He stood there, barefoot in grey sweatpants and a loose black tee that made your heart thud far too loudly.

His hair was tousled. Sleepy. And when he saw you—

He blinked. Once. Twice.

“…Are you drunk?”

“Nope.”

“High?”

“Only on impulse and sugar.”

He stared.

You shoved the box at his chest.

“I brought cake.”

“You brought cake.”

“Yeah. You’ve been kind of… horrible. But you kissed me. So. I figured this was either an apology or a thank-you.”

Jaehyun opened the box slowly, expression unreadable.

“…It’s half-eaten.”

You grinned. “Well, I got hungry on the subway. Don’t judge me.”

A beat.

Then, to your utter shock, Jaehyun… laughed.

A real one.

Head thrown back, hand raking through his hair.

You stared.

“I—” he said between chuckles, “—you’re ridiculous.”

You pushed past him into the apartment. “I know. So let me be ridiculous in your kitchen.”

“Help yourself,” he muttered, shutting the door behind you.

His home was warm, sleek, intimidatingly tidy. You didn’t belong here—and yet, your mismatched socks were already padding toward the fridge like you owned it.

“Is this oat milk?” you called.

“Touch it and die.”

You snorted and set two forks on the counter.

He watched you fumble with the box, squint at the fridge light, poke the cake like it owed you answers.

“You’re the most confusing woman I’ve ever met,” he said eventually.

“I get that a lot.”

“You show up at my place past midnight…”

“Mm-hmm.”

“…with cake that you already ate…”

“Yup.”

“…and then raid my fridge like we’re married?”

You paused.

Tilted your head.

“…Do I get a ring if I finish the cake?”

His lips twitched.

You didn’t expect it, but he moved closer.

Crowded you against the counter, box squished between your hip and the marble.

You gulped.

“I don’t know what this is,” you whispered.

“Neither do I,” he murmured, brushing hair from your cheek. “But I like the sound of your laugh in my kitchen.”

You opened your mouth—probably to say something sarcastic.

But then he leaned down and kissed you.

Not like the rooftop. Not like he was trying to prove something.

This was slow. Gentle. A soft hum behind your ribcage.

His lips found yours again and again, like he was trying to memorize your laugh on his mouth.

You gasped when he gripped your waist, lifting you slightly onto the counter.

“Oh my god—Jaehyun—”

“Shh.” He kissed your neck. “You’ll wake the oat milk.”

You burst out laughing.

Squirmed in his arms, trying to shove him away.

He pulled you right back in, hands warm on your thighs as he buried his grin in your shoulder.

“You’re horrible,” you whispered between giggles.

“You’re the one who brought half a cake to a first date.”

You blinked.

Pulled back slightly.

“…This is a date?”

He looked at you, suddenly serious.

Then, softer than anything he’d said all week:

“It is now.”

You bit your lip.

And kissed him again.

Because somehow, this man who drove you mad at work had become the only place you felt like home.

Even if you were barefoot, laughing, and sticky with cake frosting.

PART 6 — “You Said It Like It Was Nothing”

Your eyes fluttered open to the sound of rain lightly brushing the windows.

A warm weight was pressed against you. Firm, steady.

And then you realized—

You were wrapped in Jaehyun’s arms. Again.

Not just lightly snuggled. Enclosed. Your back to his bare chest, his hand comfortably splayed over your stomach, your legs tangled like you were his.

Your heart jumped straight into your throat.

For one long second, you panicked.

Then: Okay. Breathe. Think. You hadn’t been drunk last night. You just... fell asleep after the movie. On his couch. And he joined. That’s all. Perfectly harmless.

Except—

“Stop panicking,” came a sleepy voice at your ear.

You froze. “I’m not.”

“You’re stiff as a board.”

“You’re spooning me like a koala.”

“You were cold.”

You twisted your head slightly. Jaehyun, still half-asleep, had one eye open and a drowsy smile playing on his lips.

“You’re also not wearing a shirt,” you muttered.

“You took mine.”

Your brain hiccupped. “I did not—”

He shifted slightly. You saw the cotton fabric on your body. His oversized shirt.

“Okay, maybe I did.”

He nuzzled against your hair like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Smells better on you anyway.”

You stopped breathing. “You can’t say things like that casually.”

“I’m not being casual.”

He was smiling now. Sleepy. Soft. Honest.

You didn’t know where to put your heart.

Trying to recover, you mumbled, “You drooled in your sleep.”

“You snored.”

“I do not.”

“You do. Like a kitten.”

You elbowed him gently, and he grunted, letting go so you could sit up. You rubbed your eyes, yawning as you stood, tugging his shirt down your thighs.

Jaehyun sat up too, ruffling his bedhead. “You want coffee?”

“Yes. And toast.”

“Demanding.”

“You love it.”

He smirked. “Unfortunately.”

You blinked.

Wait.

You turned slowly. “What did you say?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just walked past you toward the kitchen.

You followed. “No, seriously. What did you just say?”

“I said you’re demanding.”

“No, after that.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder. His smile was small. Gentle. Like he didn’t regret it at all.

“Unfortunately,” he repeated softly, “I love you.”

Silence stretched between you.

Your heart flipped upside down.

“You—you said that like it was nothing,” you breathed.

“It’s not nothing,” he said quietly, walking back toward you. “But it also doesn’t have to be some dramatic explosion either. It’s just… true.”

You stared up at him. Your mouth opened. Then closed.

Then—

“You idiot,” you whispered, surging forward and throwing your arms around him.

He laughed as you buried your face in his bare shoulder.

“I’m wearing your shirt,” you mumbled, muffled against him.

“I know.”

“I’m your secretary.”

“I know.”

“I love you too.”

You felt him smile into your hair.

Then he whispered, “We’re gonna be so weird at the office.”

You grinned. “Good. I’m still calling you boss though.”

“Even in bed?”

You shoved him, red-faced. “Oh my God, JUNG JAEHYUN—”

He chased you around the apartment, laughing.

And when you both left for work—he reached out and laced your fingers together in the elevator like it was the most natural thing in the world.

No panic. No second-guessing.

Just love—quiet and simple and absolutely, completely mutual.

EPILOGUE — “Half of You, Half of Me”

It was raining the morning your daughter turned three.

Not the loud, chaotic kind of rain — but the quiet kind. Soft, like a memory. It streaked the windows in silver lines while the house filled with the quiet chaos of celebration: wrapping paper on the floor, the faint scent of vanilla frosting, and a trail of pink socks that led nowhere in particular.

She sat cross-legged on the living room rug, her little fingers tugging bows off gifts with exaggerated grunts, puffing her cheeks dramatically when the ribbon wouldn’t budge.

Jaehyun was beside her, crouched with his sleeves rolled, calm as ever — but you could see it in the corner of his smile: the reverence. The awe.

You leaned in the doorway with a coffee mug, watching them.

“She’s half of you,” he said suddenly, eyes still fixed on her.

You tilted your head. “Which half?”

“The stubborn part. The soft part. The part that makes a mess of everything and still gets away with it.”

“She gets that from you,” you murmured, walking over and nudging his side.

She looked up at both of you and grinned — and Jaehyun froze for a second like he always did when he saw her smile.

Like something in him still couldn’t believe she was real.

There was a knock at the door before the moment could stretch too long.

It flew open before either of you could move.

Johnny barged in with three helium balloons, a sparkly birthday crown, and what looked like a half-eaten cake box.

“I swear the bakery lady blinked and it was missing a corner,” he said, unbothered.

“Uncle Johnny!!” your daughter squealed, running into his legs.

“Happy Birthday, Chaos Goblin,” he said, hoisting her up into his arms like she weighed nothing.

“She’s gonna think this is normal,” you warned.

“She’s gonna be cooler because of it,” Johnny said smugly, placing the crown on her head like it was a coronation.

“She’s gonna be impossible to raise,” Jaehyun muttered, though he was smiling — that quiet kind of smile that only reached his eyes when he was watching you or her.

Later that night, the house was dim again. The sky had cleared. She’d fallen asleep curled on your chest this time, hair damp from a bath, breathing warm and even against your skin.

Jaehyun watched you from across the couch, elbow draped over the backrest, silent.

“What?” you whispered.

“I’m just…” he exhaled. “I still don’t know how I got this lucky.”

You glanced down at your daughter.

“Half of you, half of me,” you whispered.

He leaned forward, cupped the back of your head, and kissed you. Soft, grateful. Like a promise never broken.

Outside, the rain had stopped.

And inside, everything you’ve ever wanted was already here.

The End.

Feedback is welcome :)

___________________________________________

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Old dog

Daryl Dixon x reader | SMUT🔞

Daryl is never been watched with such interest before, and it grabs his attention. But he feels like he got his order of actions wrong..

The Kingdom was a strange place.

First there was the King, with his pet tiger.

The King spoke in a strange manner, and his ever so friendly right hand too.

The Queen was a kind woman, she had shown you around and given you a roof over your head after you wandered into her lands.

The Kingdom had guards on horseback, and all its residents referred to their leader as the King.

Like a true old age Kingdom.

It was near summer when you arrived and took some time to get settled, now having your routine all worked out and were a happy new addition to the bakery.

While it meant crazy early mornings, it brought many people a good start of their day. You made your delivery rounds as the first people got up to tend to the gardens before the sun got too hot, passing then with a kind smile and a good morning wish on your way to the school building where you'd make your last delivery of the day.

You continued your daily tasks back at the bakery when a returning resident came by.

Each day he'd come by to pick up the same order, so by now it was standard to have it ready by a certain time.

Like clockwork he showed up, the gorgeous older man with his grey streaked hair that framed his bearded face oh so perfect.

You always wondered about the scar that sat around one of his sea blue eyes, but you never found the courage to ask.

You only knew his first name because the baker mentioned it once.

Daryl.

With rough, scarred hands he accepted the packaged food but remained in his spot.

"M'sorry, ya don't happen ta have sun leftovers, do ya? 'M headin' out fer a couple days 'n could use some extras." A little stunned by the sudden change in routine had you stammer a response neither of you could make out before you disappeared further into the back.

To your luck a fresh batch was just taken out of the oven, so you quickly grabbed a few buns and put them in a tea towel before moving back to the front.

"Here you go, fresh out of the oven." You smiled nervously as you held out the makeshift pouch, almost freezing as the calloused pads of his fingers brushed your skin while taking the bread from you.

With a charming as ever thanks he made his way out the door.

After the third time preparing the order for Daryl, who wasn't in town to come pick it up you were told to go take a day or two off, relax and go try and catch him come back home later during the day.

On your delivery routes and walks around the community you had caught wind of some kind of guard dog. You'd pick it up from time to time but today had been much more frequent.

You wondered what they meant. Maybe you'd ask Carol about it later.

The Kingdom was a nice place.

Each day there would be someone in the community's centre, playing some kind of instruments. Alone or in a group, it varied, but it was always nice to enjoy when you could.

You were enjoying it for so long you barely noticed the sun starting to set and Carol finding you. "Couldn't catch you at the bakery today, was told you were given the day off."

She came to sit beside you, enjoying the music and sharing a small snack she brought with you.

After a short while she got up, turning to you and offering a hand. "Come, we're gonna see something. If I have to believe the baker's words you're gonna love it."

Carol's words confused you, the thought of the baker casually talking about you with her wasn't really a happy one. Yet you followed her every step as she made her way to the front gates of the Kingdom.

"We're heading out? Without weapons or gear?" There was nothing around for you to see, confusion rising even more and edging on annoyance. Why wouldn't she just way where you were going?

You stood and watched as as she bounced on her heels with her arms behind her back. She was being all giddy about something and your mind could not come up with what on earth it could be.

Option after option ran through your mind until the guards spoke and the gates started to open.

Carol passed you a smile and raised her brows as she nudged her head towards the gate before turning back to watch.

You took a step closer to see what she was on about, and within the reach of your first step a figure came into view between the large gate doors.

"Holy shit." You stood frozen, much like those few days ago when Daryl suddenly asked for additions to his bakery order.

Despite the distance between the two of you and the low volume of your words, it looked like he heard you and gave you a smile and a small wave.

The scene before you became crazier by the second, on his shoulders a large deer that he carried without any visible strain but that wasn't all. Tied to his waist with a thick belt he lugged a tarp stacked with different hunted animals.

But something else felt off, beside the show of inhuman strength he seemed to possess.

Out from underneath his hair poked an ear, like it did sometimes before as well, although they seemed.. pointed?

His smile as well. You had seen the stubby pointed canines he had, but there were loads of people who had those slightly longer than average. Why did they look bigger now, accompanied with a similar set on his bottom teeth that surely weren't there before.

Also, was he fuzzier than normal? It was all hard to see in the dim light. It could just have been dirt stuck on his skin from being out in the woods so long. Surely he didn't bother cleaning up out there.

All the while Daryl dragged his game inside and stopped to report to Carol, glancing your way every so often as he could feel the energy radiating off you. He was enjoying the way you stared at him with confusion that slowly morphed into something he almost wanted to categorize as adoration.

It wasn't often Daryl got that look from anyone, so to say he was suddenly more intrigued by the baker woman was an understatement.

"Hey," Daryl's voice pulled you from your thoughts, staring at him without a single word running through your mind. "Wanna help unload all'a this at the butcher?"

A silent nod was all you managed as you followed him, hearing Carol say something but not entirely registering her words.

It was the next day when you saw him outside of his usual routine yet again, before the time of his usual pickup. The early summer sun was up when you made your rounds, and so was Daryl.

Across the street from the butcher’s place was a small area that used to be a children’s playground where you caught him doing pull-ups, flannel hanging open over his torso that you secretly expected to be way more toned, but instead you saw lightly furred soft flesh.

He hadn’t noticed you as you moved past to the butcher’s doorstep where you’d leave her order, quietly mumbling to yourself as you stared at Daryl again. “Lords, I want that man to fold me like a lawn chair..” You were so lost in the view of him pulling up his full weight with just one arm, his legs crossed under him, that you didn’t hear the butcher arrive until she pat you on the shoulder. “I may not be into men, but even I can see the appeal of that old dog bending me over the nearest surface.”

The sudden contact made you squeak and jump away, only to be laughed at as you stumbled over your words before running along on your delivery route.

It was only a couple of seconds after you were out of earshot that Daryl appeared on the butcher's steps, shoulders shaking as he softly laughed at the interaction he heard all too well just a moment ago. "Yer horrible, ya know tha'?" He bumped her shoulder aa he walked past her, into the shop to start working on all the kills he brought back the day before.

The butcher let out a breath through her nose. "And you love me for it, mutt." Behind her she closed the door and flipped off the hunter, sticking out her tongue behind his back. "'Course I love ya, ya crazy knife wieldin' hag."

The rest of the day after running off at the butcher went fairly normal, Daryl picked up his order and you cleaned the place alone with the baker having to leave early for a meeting.

It was only when you closed up shop for the day that it got weird. Daryl stood outside, seemingly waiting with his arms crossed under short sleeves so tight you wondered how they hadn't cut off circulation yet.

Without missing a beat he pushed himself off the wall and stepped beside you. "C'mon. Wanna show ya som'n." His gruff voice could tell you to eat dirt and you'd do it so naturally you followed suit, walking around the community until you reached the homes placed at the far end, right at the forest wall.

You took in the beat up old truck with the hood popped and one wheel missing, and next to it inside the garage with the missing door a bike that looked like it was made over years of collecting parts. Was this his home?

You followed him inside the garage, the door in the back opening and leading into a small kitchen littered with tools and materials. The tea towel you gave him the bread in laid neatly folded on the corner of the messy table, not a single grease or oil covered item near it.

In the moment of distraction Daryl's hand landed on your hip as he scooted past you in the narrow space between the counter and the table, his crotch brushing your ass in the process.

He felt you become rigid at his touch and apologized. "Sorry, doll. Place ain't made fer two."

His hand remained in its place, squeezing as he apoligized making you want to just give in to your haunting daydreams and let him take you right then and there.

"So, what did you wanna show me again?" You were fidgeting, trying to calm your nerves with Daryl so close.

"S' upstairs. Sum ol' items ya can dig through. See if ya wan' sum." With a hand placed on your hip he led you upstairs, steering you around the corner and through one of the doors, ending with your knees pressed against a bed.

Before you had a chance to ask anything one of Daryl's hands came around your front, resting on your lower belly as the other one snuck around your chest. "How 'bout ya be a good girl fer me an' lemme fold ya like a lawn chair." His beard drug across your skin as he came to bite your earlobe. "Tha's what ya want, righ'? Got all hot 'n bothered when the butcher mentioned me bendin 'er over the counter.." with one hand sneaking under your waistband and the other softly squeezing your breast he had you whimpering.

"S'fine, righ'?" His hands stilled at your silence. "Words, doll. Ain' gon do anythin' unless ya give me an okay." His hands moved to cafefully turn you around to look you in the eye, but you quickly buried your face in his chest, hands against him as well and all your body wanted was to squeeze.

Squeeze your fingers into his plump, soft chest. Squeeze your thighs together for some desparately needed friction.

You softly nodded, murmuring something Daryl couldn't make out.

"Need ta hear ya." Daryl softly caressed your shoulder, moving to tilt your head up so you'd look at him.

Your eyes scanned his face, soft and gentle. Eyes glistening a bright blue between the thick, red scarred line that cut right through an eyebrow. Your eyes wandered to his lips, partially hidden by the grey scruff that occupied the lower half of his face as you breathed. "I want this."

With your eyes on his lips you saw his concerned look change into a wicked grin that showed his pointed canines.

In a split second after that you were thrown onto the bed and caged between Daryl's limbs, his face buried in your neck as he nipped and sucked at your skin.

"Go on." He whispered. "Take 'em off. I know ya wan' it." Daryl was on his way to the hem of your shirt already as you slowly worked your hands towards the buttons of of his flannel, undoing them with trembling fingers, focus drifting away with every drag of his teeth across your flesh.

With some assistance your top halves were soon bare. Daryl's hands on your soft chest, tongue all over them as he sucked bruises to the underside.

Your fingers found his hair, pulling at the strands in pleasure as the others traced every scar on Daryl's body. From the small puncture wounds to the large gashes on his back, you caressed each one of them.

Letting out short, panted breaths your body burned wherever Daryl's fingers trailed, the rough pads leaving a path of tingling flesh from your chest down to your side, his tongue following down your body between where his hands had gone.

With the descent of his body his scarred frame moved out of reach, placing both hands in his hair and tugging as his teeth dug into your skin, earning a growl that sounded from deep in his chest.

With newfound interest you pulled again, your nails scratching his scalp in the process as your hips rolled up against his torso.

The low, scratchy moan that left him rumbled against your hip and had him quickly slide his hands down your hips. With no effort you felt your hips rise as two strong hands grabbed your ass and fabric slide off your body. Both your loose trousers and panties were shoved down the rounds of your hips as they lifted off the bed, the fabric pulled off your legs before your knees ended on both sides of your chest and Daryl's teeth were back just below your bellybutton where the meat of your folded torso met in perfect, bite-sized rolls.

You watched him litter your stomach in marks, clamping his jaw onto your thighs to color your skin in where only he could admire them.

"Daryl, please.."

Your voice had him lock eyes with you from where he sat between your legs and watched your pleading gaze with a soft nod before leaning back down and licking a broad stripe over the back of your thigh, moving to delve his tongue right into your centre.

Your moans of his name added fuel to the already raging fire, parting your lips with his tongue and drinking up all of your sweetness. With each stroke against your clit your walls clenched around nothing, muscles tensing but your body laying unmoved under Daryl's strong grip.

You squirm, hands finding his on your thighs as you whine and mewl, signaling you being close to finishing.

"Such pretty sounds, all fer me.." Daryl speaks against your clit before wrapping his lips around it once more and teasing you, making you hold back your own thigh so his fingers could join his mouth, stuffing two down your entrance with ease as he kept licking and sucking in tandem with the curls of his digits.

Your sounds increase in volume with Daryl's ministrations, crying out at your peak, clenching your walls tightly around his fingers as you finished.

"'Ere, lemme stretch those legs fer ya." With gentle hands he laid your legs flat against the bed on either side of him, allowing the blood flow to return while you came down from your high.

You watched him with hazy eyes, on his knees between your legs tugging at the button and zipper of his black jeans. Beneath the oh so inviting trail of dark hair he lowered the layers still on him to reveal his thick, hard cock.

Your view was close to perfection, a gorgeous old man between your spread legs. The lines of his body like rings on a tree, showing signs of age and survival. From the scar at his collarbone, at the edge of the soft dusting of chest hair down to his thick strong legs he was removing his clothes from he was like a piece of art for you to admire as you desired.

And gods, you desired him.

"Ya look like ya wanna eat me alive." He looked down at you, one hand running through his hair while the other slowly stroked his cock.

You licking your lips as you stared at his impressive length was all he needed to ler himself fall forward and catch himself right before he'd make contact with you, calmly catching your lips in a deep kiss. With your tongue against his lips you asked for more and he obliged almost immediately, parting his lips and swiping his tongue against yours, lips moulding together in percect harmony until you desperately needed air.

Your hand lingered on the side of his head, thumb caressing the scar around his eye.

"What's the story on this one?" Daryl couldn't get enough of that look on your face. The one filled with curiosity, not a speck of fear or disgust on you.

"Old girlfrien' decided she didn' like me no more." He averted your gaze as he remembered the fight in the cabin back then, and the serrated edge of the knife catching the skin of his face. He deliberately left out the terms his then lover called him as she chased him out the door with a shotgun. That was a tale for another time.

Right now all he wanted was to ravish the woman underneath him.

The setting sun caught his eyes and for a fraction of a second they seemed to glow, icy blue in a sea of black. When they looked back at you it was gone, a pair of normal blue eyes looking at you.

He shook off the memories and brought his focus back to the now, to you underneath him, the scent of your arousal, and his painfully hard cock.

Daryl adjusted his position, his length rubbing your folds in the process earning a soft moan from you.

"Gonna make more o'them pretty noises fer me, doll?" His hand reached for his member and rubbed the tip between your folds, spreading your wetness around, listening to your soft mutters of "yes" and "please".

Daryl needed no more convincing, nuzzling your noses together before kissing you deeply as he slowly inches himself inside of you. The initial stretch hurt and you couldn't help but groan into the kiss at how big he was. His cock was way girthier than just two fingers, and it had been years since your last time before this.

Daryl's hand moved down your body, slowly rubbing your clit to distract from the stretch. His kisses deepened, your tongue sliding past his teeth, feeling around his fangs with fascination.

A soft whimper sounded from you as he bottomed out, making him halt a moment to let you adjust. "Ya tell me when yer good, 'kay?"

You nodded and answered a soft "uhuh." and a bit later, after a few experimental squeezes you told him you were good.

With his hand still on your hip Daryl carefully pulled back and slid inside at a slow and steady pace, letting you get used to him for a few thrusts until your heels came up to dig in his rear.

"Hmhm, eager are we?" Daryl grinned against your neck, taking the hint and quickening his pace. His hands had your hips in a bruising grasp, his hips snapping against yours earning soft gasps on each impact.

"H.. hah.. ah Daryl fuck--" you were a beautiful piece beneath him, with your head thrown to the side, arm covering your eyes and chest heaving and shaking with each thrust.

"So good, doll. So pretty for me." Daryl was huffing out a laugh, moving his hands off your hips to grab at your lower legs. Deep, short thrusts continued as he moved your legs from around him back to up beside your torso, knees pressed against your shoulders as he fucked into you with your ass up off the matress.

He was so deep all of a sudden it had you see stars, crying out his name aa your orgasm crashed down on you.

You were sweating all over, breaths deep to get enough air and body heavy. With your eyes closed you laid still, getting the air back into your lungs as Daryl teased you by softly rutting into your overly sensitive cunt.

"Don' tell me yer tired already, I haven't even finished yet.." His thrusts changed angles and now brushed your clit, having you mewl out pleas he chose to ignore. "Tha's more like it, music, those sounds o' yers." His thrusts continued, as did your pleas. You didn't even know what you were begging for but the knot in your belly was quickly returning in time with his thrusts getting sloppier, not long after crying out again as you came a few thrusts before je did too.

There were tears rolling down your face, laying limp on the bed. Daryl's hands had let go of your legs again, letting you stretch them for thr short moment before he was fully hard again.

Unexpectedly Daryl flipped you onto your stomach and moving your hips around to his preference.

"Time fer round two?" He wached you nod wit your face in the pillows, moving to slowly press inside you once more and bending down to press soft kisses to your back. Your mind went back to being hazy a few thrusts in with how good his cock felt at this new angle fist gripping at the pillows beneath you that muffled your moans.

His hands were all over your backside, kneading every soft surface he could reach as he continued his steady pace.

Your sounds were like music to his ears, wishing to hear them every night, over and over again until your throat was so soar he had to bring you medicine and nurse you back to health. Your curiosity was already enough to make him want you, never having anyone radiate such a type of energy towards him and it has him hooked. But having you here like this now had him almost addicted, wanting to keep you, claim you but he knew he didn't have the right to do so. He didn't deserve it, for he was sort of still lying to you about large aspects of his life.

But if he could make you feel this good now in this moment, that was all he cared about.

He fucked you from behind until you came once, twice and then moved you onto your side, holding onto one of your legs against his chest as je continued rutting into you, earning two more orgasms from you right before finishing himself for the second time.

As he came down from his high he stared at you, passed out and asleep beneath him. Ever so carefully he moved you so he could lay down as well, pulling you against his chest as he settled to drift off too.

It was morning by the time you woke up, groaning in pain as your legs resisted being moved off the bed. You blinked the sleep from your eyes and shot up off the bed. "Ah, god damn oww.." Your ass hit the matress again, the crunchy layer of dried fluids scratching your thighs.

"Oh for fuck's sake I'm gonna be late!" You stumbled around the place searching for the shower to scrub yourself clean, picking up your shirt off the floor and sniffing it. "Nope, can't wear that. Shit!" You found the bathroom and were vigorously scrubbing your legs and quickly back to digging through all of Daryl's drawers in a panic, trying to find something decent to wear.

"Ya know ya can just ask, right?" You didn't even register what he said and grumbled back at him. "I don't have time, okay? I'm already gonna be late for work and I got nothing to wear because my own clothes stink so I'm gonna have to run home first and be even later."

Face down in a drawer your attention was pulled by a short whistle, and the second you were up and turned towards the noise an entire outfit found your face.

Underwear, socks, simple sweats and a flanel.

"Why do you have a stash of women's clothes?" You were genuinely curious but that didn't stop you from struggling to put on the clothes with your entire body aching. "I don't even know how I'm gonna walk my rounds. Everything hurts.."

You were already dreading today and it had barely even started.

"Need me ta make yer rounds? Got time so I don' mind." Daryl was following you down the stairs now, hands ready to catch you as you stumbled, not wanting you to fall.down the stairs on your wobbly legs.

"No way I'm letting you do my rounds. I don't want the whole community on my neck tomorrow about why I sent you." You were halfway out the door already, walking as fast as possible and waving Daryl off on your not so fast way to work.

You arrived late and got told off for it, but the baker quickly changed his demeanor once he saw you limp. He gave you a quick rundown of what he had planned to do at the bakery and let you stay in as he took over your rounds, which you were very thankful for.

The front door bell rang and Carol appeared, a while after Daryl had dropped by for his usual, and bringing in a bag with your clothes.

"Hey, didn't see you this morning." Carol was as cheery as ever, her hair braided and her smile kind and motherly.

"Yeah," you leaned against the counter, wincing as you moved your weight. "Hurt my leg yesterday, so I'm in here thr whole day now." You tried to shrug it off, not feeling like coming up with a decent enough lie. Not that you needed one anyways.

"Which clearly has nothing to do with you spending the night at Daryl's place?" A knowing smile spread on her face as she looked you up and down, arms crossed over her chest, laughing as she watched your eyes about to pop out of your head in response. "You're wearing my emergency clothes. Looks like we have about the same size."

You felt blessed with today being a quiet day and could clean while you chatted with Carol and closed up shop after, with the baker off again while you ran the bakery.

"There's something wrong with that man." You sighed as you bent down to lock up the garage door, groaning as you came back up. "He's like, what? Almost sixty? And he still held out longer than me. I swear I passed out once before he was done."

Carol was giggling all the way with your bags in her hand. "He's fifty-four, but alright."

"Yeah, okay. That fifty-four year old would have kept going if I hadn't clocked out after lord knows how ma--"

"Five, doll." Daryl's voice suddenly behind you had you jump up and almost fall if it wasn't for his quick response to steady you.

"How the hell are you fine?" Your question was directed at Daryl, but your eyes were on Carol who was having the time of her life seeing you be so confused about her best friend's energy levels.

"There's a lot about Daryl you don't know yet, dear." She winked at her friend, who only grunted in response.

"Oh really? When are you planning on telling me all about yourself? Do I need to cook you a romantic dinner?" Your words came out with way too much excitement, letting out how eager you were to learn about Daryl.

"Ya'll learn eventually. No need ta rush things, righ'?" His voice kept cool, but Carol read his body language like a book and quickly saw he needed help to cross that line. Him scratching the side of his fingers, and obsessively wiping the hair out of his face, eyes looking everywhere but at you. They were all tells, and Carol felt bad for him.

"Why don't you two stay over for dinner? Ezekiel won't make it home in time so I'd be all alone otherwise." Carol quickly set up a plan, making it all seem like coincidence but in her mind she had all the steps figured out already.

"I'd love to stay over, but only if it's not too much effort." Peeking past Daryl you saw her wave your assumption off and assure it was fine.

And thus you three ended up around Carol's nice dinner table in the King's home.

Somehow you expected it to be fancy and pristine, but that would never happen with how selfless the King was.

The food was nice and Carol had gifted you some stronger painkillers she had laying around to ease your body, you all just chatted about your day, and you thought your subtle questions about him were going okay, until Daryl excused himself to go smoke what seemed in a hurry.

"It's okay honey, Daryl has a hard time opening up to people. He needs to find the right moments to talk." Carol gave you a loving shoulder squeeze and pointed you towards the back door where Daryl had just left through.

"He loves the forest, he feels safe there." With a wink she sent you off.

You carefully approached him and settled in the doorframe. "Hey," Your voice was soft as to not startle him. "Wanna go for a walk? Outside the walls."

With a nod he got up and offered you his hand to take, and with a sigh he let a smile come through. "Carol really set us up, didn't she?"

You laughed along with him and decided then you wouldn't push him, and let him talk at his pace.

With your gear gathered the two of you found yourselves walking along the tree line in silence.

"M' sorry." Daryl kept his eyes on the ground where he walked, but with his pinkie he touched yours and hooked them together.

"When Carol brought ya to welcome me back after the huntin' I was confused. But when I felt yer curious stares instead of gettin' negative 'n scared I got.." He fell quiet, his hand pulling away from yours but you quickly grabbed it fully, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles.

But you stayed quiet, and just walked with his hand in yours.

After a long stretch of only hearing the ground crunch under your shoes Daryl stopped.

"S'where I stay when I go out each month." You stood a few feet away from a rock wall, overgrown with green and a small clearing in it. Looking around you there was no way of being seen here from any angle.

You also saw trees with torn off branches and what looked like deep claw marks. "Should'a shown ya 'fore last night."

You looked over at him and made sure he saw you smile. "You really think anything would have changed my mind?" Your hands came up to his face to hold his gaze on you, hoping he'd see the truth in your eyes.

"I know yer not lyin'. Ya haven't lied since we started talkin'." His hand moved to touch the small of your back, the other one gesturing at the overgrown wall. "C'mon."

Daryl had his knife ready as he moved past some hanging vines with your hand in his to keep you close.

The area was void of any dead, except for the picked clean bones covering the ground.

And the seemingly random pile of fabrics and signs of humans staying here.

He let go of your hand and let you wander around, staring at every little thing.

You kneeled down off to the side, getting up to move some vines to let in more light before walking back.

"You stay here?" Your fingers traced the print in the sand, glancing over at Daryl who was slowly stepping closer with calculated steps, like a true huntsman would to not startle an animal.

Quietly he leaned down next to you, and without saying a word moved his hand to the print in the loose sand.

The world went blurry around Daryl's hand as you watched it change. Muscles under the skin warping to reshape as flesh darkened and nails grew, and then fit perfectly into the indentation.

Daryl was hyper aware of everything around him, senses almost overwhelming him as he felt the worms crawl under the earth and heard the birds fly over outside. But even with his senses running on overdrive he couldn't find a single negative feeling coming off you.

You stared at his hand, now more a claw and it felt like everything suddenly made sense.

His strength, the way he heard things from so far off, his way of using terms that didn't make sense and that strange glow in his eyes.

Daryl's mind kept showing you running away, crying as he got closer each time.

Instead, there in the small cave like structure he called home once a month, you reached out your hand and placed it on top of his changed one.

"I don't regret being curious." Your shoulder rested against his, slowly easing into more contact. "And I'm still happy I went home with you, and came here to see this. To see you." Your weight was now entirely resting against his side, and for the first time since he sat down he dared to look at you.

You, who laid comfortably against his side.

"I'm honestly kinda glad you showed me this." You watched Daryl raise his brows at your words. "Suddenly your strange but interesting things make sense. Kinda obvious for someone to be so strong, or have glowy eyes when they're not human."

Your hand gave his a comfortable squeeze. "I hope you'll show me all of this you one day." With a finger pressed to his knuckles you moved your head to kiss his cheek.

"Close yer eyes fer a minute." Daryl moved to stand after he kissed your head, moving behind you.

Noises filled the air. Clothes being undone and landing on the floor.

And then cracking. Tearing and groaning. Coughing and growling, a thud that acompanied a shove against your backside that almost made you turn around, but je asked not to, and you were going to respect his wish.

Once the noises died down and all you heard was deep breathing you opened your eyes again, staring straight forward as you waited. Waited for something to signal it was okay to turn.

That something was a press against your shoulder, a press and a huff of air against your exposed neck.

From the edge of your vision a nose peeked, making you turn and stare right into his scarred eye.

"Wow." It caught you off guard and you stubled backwards just a small bit, staring and laughing at yourself for falling on your ass. "Okay. Big guy. That's ..wow."

You followed his movements as he walked into your view. And you recognised him. All ofrhe features that made Daryl look like himself changed along with him, from the dark, shaggy mane to the scar and beard. Even his tattoos were spots of darker fur, especially clear on the lighter areas.

But, still..

"Wait. So Carol knows about," you wildly gestured at his entire self. "you know, this. She's seen you? And what about the butcher? That comment of hers, she knew."

You gasped in realisation. "You were testing me! You could hear us, you were there on purpose oh my god."

Daryl only sat and listened to your rambling. If anyone had asked him how he envisioned this scene to go, he would have never guessed this to be the way. Not that he was complaining or anything, he liked this.

He liked you, and you liked him too, even in this shape.

With a tap to your hand and his paw covering his eyes he asked you to look away once more, changing back to his human self and getting dressed before coming to press a kiss to your temple. "So, ya sure this's all fine?"

You stood up to join him at eye level. "You're either the most dense man ever, or are still convinced you don't deserve love just because you're different." Your deadpan look spoke more than needed.

"Yeah, alrigh'. Sorry." He shook his head in apology.

"You literally just turned into a goddamn werewolf." You paused. "Wait. That is correct, right? You're a werewolf? I mean, I don't wanna assume and be wrong, or offensive.."

He kept his head low but nodded, telling you were correct in your observations.

You stepped into his space and peppered his face with kisses, grabbing his hands to fake a sense of chaining him to you and it worked. He let himself melt into you and accept your affection.

Your love.

"Let's go home?"

With a nod he stepped back go retrieve your items. "Yeah. Home's good."

The walk home was silent, only sporadic and very random questions with short and simple answers.

Only when he dropped you off at home he spoke full sentences again. "I wan' ya t'move in with me."

You shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, okay. But we gotta clean the place first."

With a nod he agreed and let you go for the day. Only a week later moving the last of your items into his home after strategically cleaning and rearranging his home to accomodate two people.

That night, in bed all cuddled up together after a shower, Daryl pressed his lips against your jaw and uttered three simple words.

"I love ya."

A/N: Okay yeah damn that became way longer than I originally planned. But it wad fun! Hope you enjoyed it~

[shegatsby]

Silent Obsession

Summary; After he became a civilian Bucky's mind, body and soul was trying to adapt to his new life. He swore to himself that he was going to live the rest of his life alone, until he saw her. His distroted mind and broken soul ached to be with her, to be around her all the time. Could he manage it or ruin it for both of them?

A/N: Ever since I've heard that song by Massive Attack all I can imagine is stalker bucky! Enjoy. TAG LIST IS OPEN!

This is tha playlist I made for the series;

Warnings: Dark Romance. Stalking.

Words: 3013K

Chapter One

‘’You’re alone.’’ His therapist said in a calm manner but Bucky knew she was frustrated with him. ‘’You’re 100 years old, you have no history, no family-‘’ he had to cut her off, ‘’Are you lashing out on me Doc? Because that’s really unprofessional.’’ It wasn’t a nice session to say the least. He was a civilian now and he had to get therapy once a month, at first it was every week and it was horrible. He never believed in shrinks, maybe that was his old fashioned side talking  but in Wakanda, he was making progress. Sometimes he would just sit in his small flat and imagine that he was in Wakanda again, in his small hut, surrounded by divine nature and animals… how he missed that place. Bucky observed his Doc, she was in her middle ages, married and had two children, one could see the photos on her glass desk, she always had a plain shirt and plazzo pants, her hair tied back. Thanks to his training he could deduce human behavior so meticulously perfect that he didn’t even need to talk to them to get to know them. He would just know. ‘’Your homework,’’ she began, obviously fed up with him not being so cooperative, ‘’Stop ignoring Sam Wilson’s calls and start making new friends. I know you’re not gonna but-‘’ she sighed, looking at his stoic expression, ‘’go on a small date.’’ With her last sentence he scuffed and rolled his blue eyes, that was out of the question for him. How could someone trust him and how could he trust someone?!

‘’At least call Sam back.’’ She pleaded.  The session was over, he got up from his seat, ‘’Will do.’’ He gave her a soldier salute and then waltzed out of her office, as he was about to close the door with his high senses he could hear the woman sigh and write on her notes. The soft sound of pen making contact with paper filled his already buzzing mind. He marched the halls of the building, he noticed the way people who work here avoiding making eye contact, moving out of his way. He knew the effect he had on people, they were afraid of him, as they should be because he didn’t even trust himself, he was healed in Wakanda, thanks to the community there especially Wakanda’s highly trained Dora Milaje but he was in fear that one day he was going to snap and become the Winter Soldier again. Of course his therapist didn’t know this fear of his, he wasn’t good at opening up, giving details.

Today he was off, didn’t have anything to do so his plan was to go the pub near his home and drink, maybe see Mr. Nakajima, Bucky was living in an apartment complex with his neighbors but he was only talking to Mr. Nakajima and Mrs. Rodriguez.

The reason why he was helping Mr. Nakajima was that when he was the Winter Soldier he had killed his son, he was trying to make amends and this was his way of saying sorry. He was helping him and keeping him company. Mrs. Rodriguez on the other hand was just a sweet old lady who would bake for him and Bucky would take out her trash and help her carry the groceries. As he was marching to his Harley he thought about Doc’s words, ‘’You are alone…’’ no, he wasn’t. Even though his friends were old he still had some people around him… maybe he should return Sam’s calls.

On his bike he had an idea, he was stopping at the red light, Mrs. Rodriguez once mentioned that her husband, until his last day he would get her a bouquet of red roses every week. Bucky wanted to surprise the old lady who was like a mother to him at this point, (even though he was actually older than her) it would be a nice surprise. The city was crowded as usual, he loved to watch people, most of them were in hurry. Hurrying to pick up their kids from school, getting groceries, trying to run to their appointments… life was normal for them but for James Buchanan Barnes Jr. life had never been normal. Even back in the 40s he was protecting his ma from his dad, he was hustling jobs before he became a soldier. It was never easy for him and it wasn’t going to be, he had made peace with that but sometimes, especially late at night as he laid on the floor of his small living room his mind dared to dream. A nice home, lights are on, soft music playing at the background and a woman greeting him as he enters their home… In those split seconds he would stop himself as soon as he realizes that he was dreaming something that could never happen. He didn’t see himself worthy of that kind of life.

He parked his bike on the empty alley and looked around, there was a flower shop across the street so he walked up to the shop. His boots heavy on the pavement, he had his black hoodie and his black leather jacket on top with black jeans and boots, he never forgot his leather gloves, he didn’t like people seeing his metal arm. He didn’t want to be recognized as the Winter Soldier, he was just Bucky.

The tall glass showed the inside, it looked like a cozy place, the door of the place was dark green, there was a writing on the tall glass it said ‘’Floral Fantasia’’  as he opened the door he could hear the golden bell that was attached to the door, the floors were dark wood, one could see the various types of flowers in large vases. The strong scent of freshness filled his nostrils, he had never smelt that many flowers in one place before, there was a young girl behind one of the counters and she was busy with decorating a vase, ‘’Hello Sir.’’ She smiled, Bucky didn’t return the smile, he was still standing, the door behind him. ‘’Y/N!’’ the young girl called, apparently she was busy to take his order. She smiled apologetically again, her blue eyes ran up and down on him, as she turned to go to the back of the flower shop she gave him a quick look again, Bucky could tell that this blue eyed blonde woman found him attractive, which made him feel nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Soon the blue eyed girl returned with another girl, now Bucky was close to the counter that had the cashier, waiting impatiently, he was about to leave when he saw her.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=66A_3uwuZ_I (this is the song that plays when Bucky sees her for the first time)

‘’My friend will take your order Sir, sorry to keep you waiting.’’ The previous girl said but Bucky almost didn’t hear her. His deep blue eyes focused on the new girl and as soon as he saw her something in him shifted. She looked up with those pretty eyes, eyes that could destroy empires, there was a height difference between them so she had to look up at him. She smiled kindly at him, she didn’t have any make up on, she was wearing a simple white long sleeve shirt, why was she wearing that in this heat? Bucky was covering his arm so he had to,  her blue jeans fit her hips perfectly, her long hair tied carefully, Bucky could feel his heart picking up the pace, his flesh palm getting sweatier with a certain kind of feeling he couldn’t quite place. ‘’What would you like to have Sir?’’ she simply asked, Bucky had to clear his dry throat before he could speak, ‘’A bouquet of red roses.’’ He replied with a cold tone but deep down he could feel the strange attraction towards her. He watched her skillful hands work on the bouquet, she must have been doing this for a long time, ‘’Here you are.’’ She finished her work of art and extended the bouquet and he specifically got the roses with his non metal hand, just to feel her fingers brush the leather and maybe feel a fraction if he was lucky. ‘’That’ll be 40 dollars Sir.’’ He got the money from his leather wallet and used the same hand to give the money, their fingers brushed again, he wished he didn’t have the gloves but he had to. ‘’Thank you so much, have a great day.’’ She said smiling as she placed the money, he only nodded and left the place in a hurry. His mind was going to dark places such as waiting outside till her shift ends… he forced himself to walk to his bike, he placed the roses carefully on the small trunk that was at the back, got on the bike and started the engine and waited. His thoughts occupied by the girl’s sweet smile and beautiful face. He exhaled, ‘’She is just attractive, that’s all.’’  He thought, ‘’If it was the 40s I would’ve asked her out on a movie night, maybe we would go to the beach and drink coke..’’

After waiting on his bike for few minutes he left the empty alley.

‘’Gosh! He was dreamy!’’ Y/N’s work bestie Melanie pointed out as soon as the man left. They had to finish up the vases for a wedding. The bride had chosen white tulips with slight green here and there, Y/N’s focus was on the glass vase she had just finished decorating, she sighed, deep in thoughts. Was she going to have a wedding one day? ‘’I’m sorry, what did you say?’’ she asked, Melanie was sitting on one of the tables, swaying her legs like a child, her blue eyes looking at Y/N, ‘’The man who bought the roses, he was so hot!’’ she tried to remember but all she remembered was a stern look and a tall muscular frame, ‘’Oh, you think so?’’ Y/N had started a new vase, her hands quick. ‘’Girl, didn’t you even look at him. I wish he would come back! You know what, if he comes again I’ll let you know so that you’ll see how hot he is.’’ Melanie was persistent, ‘’Alright alright, get back to work.’’ Y/N said, she was few years older than Melanie and also their boss made it clear that when he wasn’t around Y/N was in charge because she was responsible and always got the job done no matter what. ‘’How are thing with your boyfriend?’’ Melanie was a chatty one, Y/N’s hands started to shake when she heard the question maybe because she didn’t eat lunch yet, ‘’He just moved in with me.’’ Y/N replied, forcing a smile. They had a huge fight this morning, that’s why she was wearing a long sleeved shirt, ‘’Oh after 5 years, finally!’’ Melanie said, it was true, Y/N and Leo were together for five years, she didn’t remember the time they were so in love, maybe the first year of their relationship… Leo was so nice and kind.. she often wondered what happened to that sweet boy who was replaced with a gambling monster. Leo had to move in with Y/N because he was in a lot of debt, she was helping him for maybe two years, giving him money and food and now he was in her small apartment, he had to be under the radar for a while so her place was the perfect solution. Y/N’s weary head felt more heavier than usual, she rested her hands on the counter for a split second, eyes closed, ‘’You okay?’’ Melanie immediately noticed her friend being dizzy, ‘’Yeah, just, I need water.’’ She managed to say, Melanie rushed to the back, they had a small kitchen at the back and a lounge area, she brought a tall glass of water for her friend, ‘’Here. You can sit for a while.’’

Y/N only nodded, her arms feeling weak.

Bucky never used the elevator, he was climbing up the stairs holding the bouquet in one hand, the other free. The government had placed him in that apartment complex to make him adjust to the new world, he had to be among people all the time and he detested it most of the time. The apartment’s flats were occupied by various people, old, young, single, married, so many different lives that made him feel stuck in a time capsule, he wasn’t that young boy who got drafted to war, he wasn’t a killing machine either, what was he now? He had no idea. He walked up to Mrs. Rodriguez’s door, knocked on it thrice, waiting patiently, soon the door opened and the old lady’s brown eyes smiled at him. He noticed that every time she saw him there was a light in her eyes, it made his heart get a warm feeling. ‘’Hi, Mrs. Rodriguez, these are for you.’’ He extended the roses, his mind flashing him with the image of that girl who had made the bouquet, so sweet, so innocent looking..

‘’Aw, James!’’ she was one of the rare people he revealed his first name, she was now smiling ear to ear, there was dust of flour on her chubby fingers, she must have been baking again, per usual. Her pink apron was old and stitched so many times it reminded him the old times where one had to stitch their clothes, no one could afford a new one. ‘’These are beautiful. Thank you so much, you’re such a gentleman, girls must be all over you.’’ It made him scoff but he gave her a smirk, whenever he was around old people or people he was comfortable with his old self would come out with smirks, eye rolling and smug attitude. ‘’Wait!’’ she said as she walked back inside and brought back cookies, ‘’They are still warm.’’ She was so generous ‘’Thank you so much Mrs. Rodriguez, I’ll bring back the plate.’’ He gave her a smile and said goodbye, his flat was upstairs so he climbed the stairs again.

He reached to his dark brown door, immediately he could hear Alpine’s soft meows. He opened the door and was greeted by her, she was meowing as if complaining, ‘’Yeah yeah, I know I’m late. You’re just like my Ma.’’ He locked the door as he entered, his curtains were closed, there was a grey sofa in his living room, no rug, a small TV, it was a small place, connecting the kitchen and living room. At the back there was a bedroom and bathroom. He placed the plate of cookies on the white counter, noticing Alpine’s food bowl empty, ‘’Oh that’s why you were complaining.’’ He filled the white bowl, and made sure she had water as well and then he hit the shower, he stood there under the cold water, he hated the cold but it woke him up. The cold made him remember Siberia’s freezing cells, a memory he would kill to forget. After the shower, he removed the blanket over the mirror to see if he had to shave or not but he could wait for a few days, he covered the mirror again, he didn’t like seeing his reflection because it made him feel distorted to see a man who is 100 something years old still alive with a Vibranium arm, he walked back to turn on the TV, he had a towel wrapped around his waist, his dog tags hanging and sticking to his broad chest, there was a game tonight and he didn’t want to miss it.  He sat on the sofa as he zapped and found the channel, once he had found the channel he went to his fridge which only had frozen pizza and beer packs. He threw one pizza into the microwave and  got few beers, as the pizza was getting warmer he walked to his bedroom door, he opened it and hit he lights. He was actually using his bedroom as a dressing room, he had a wardrobe and a bed that has never been slept on. He wore shorts and threw the towel on the bed, and walked back to get the pizza. He liked game nights, it reminded him the old times where Bucky and Steve would listen through radio with friends. There was a dominant knock on his door, he huffed, Bucky took the pizza out of the microwave and walked to the door with cautious steps, other than the government only few people knew his location. When he checked the peephole he saw Sam’s face, he lifted one of his hand to show that he brought a six pack. ‘’Drop the weapons Bucky.’’ He rolled his eyes, Bucky huffed again and answered the door, ‘’Be quick.’’ He assured Sam inside because he didn’t want anyone of his neighbors to see his vibranium arm. ‘’It’s game night! Oh great you have pizza!’’ Sam placed the beers on the counter, got himself one and then dropped to Bucky’s sofa. Without a word Bucky popped another slice into the microwave for Sam.

‘’So, you’ve been ignoring me because….’’ Sam pointed it out as they were watching the game, it had been 20 minutes. ‘’I was busy.’’ Bucky cut short with a raspy voice, ‘’Busy with what? Hanging out with old people?’’

Bucky snapped, was Sam spying on him? Or someone else getting information on him? His distorted mind started to went into a whole spiral, was Sam trustworthy? Was he also following Mr. Nakajima and Mrs. Rodriguez?

‘’Relax blue steel!’’ Sam raised his hands in defense, ‘’I don’t got nobody on your tail! I saw your neighbor on the way to you, sweet old man asked me if I was heading to your place.’’ Bucky’s eyes travelled on Sam’s smug face to detect if he was lying, he couldn’t find any proof so he dropped it, for now.

‘’They might be old but they’re still people so I’m doing what Doc says.’’ He defended himself with an annoyed voice, finished his beer and got up, ‘’I’m assuming that your future girlfriend is going to be what-‘’ Sam pretended like he was calculating, ‘’around 80 years.’’ And laughed out loud, he couldn’t realize the change on Bucky’s face, his mind went to the girl he saw today, at the flower shop.  ‘’Yeah, right.’’ He didn’t have the energy to protest to Sam.

Something in Bucky kept whispering, a soft voice calling him, he knew from the very first start that he wouldn’t be able to stay away from her.

Thank you for reading. :)

Chapter Two

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

All My Desires

── fiyero tigelaar x fem!witch!reader (no use of y/n but i do use she / her. no descriptors other than reader being shorter than fiyero. he’s able to rest his head atop readers when they embrace. jonathan bailey is 5’11” irl so do with that information what you will.

ooc glinda and elphaba, neither want fiyero romantically.

based on THAT scene in bridgerton 🙂‍↔️ but obviously changing things to fit my story. finally finished that episode of anthony’s season and just had to write this

Tension has been building between you and Fiyero for a long time now, and not all of it was good.

The end of the school year was nearing, there was just 1 week of normal classes, followed by a week of final exams. Assuming you passed all those, and you knew you would, you’d finally get to go home for a few months. You’d finally get away from this place, from him.

Things hadn’t always been this tense. In fact you used to be good friends. But then the drama started.

Glinda, your roommate and one of your best friends, had shown interest in Fiyero in the beginning, but she’d confessed to you that a big part in that was the fact that she didn’t want to end up alone.

You pointed out that she was so young and beautiful and had all the time in the world to find someone, that she didn’t need to marry the first man to show any sort of feelings towards her.

“I think if you’re not… if you’re not in love, you should break up with him. It might be sad for a while, but you don’t deserve to be in a relationship where you’re unhappy.”

There were also your unspoken reasons. Like the fact that Fiyero flirted with you just as much as he did with Glinda even though technically, they were together. That reason didn’t need to be unspoken, though, since even your pink loving friend noticed.

“Maybe it’s you he’s secretly in love with,” she joked.

You rolled your eyes as you threw one of your makeup brushes at her. “Now I think we both know that’s not true.”

“I dunno… I think maybe you two should get together.”

“Aren’t you still technically in a relationship?”

Glinda turned to you and shrugged. “I think even he knows we’d never last. Like you said, I’ve realized that part of my attraction to him comes from the fact that I just don’t want to end up alone. I love him, but I think we work better as friends. I’m just saying, I see how he looks at you. There’s something there. And if the two of you were to end up together, I’d be so happy for you. You deserve love, you know.”

“Even if that was something he wanted, you know I’m considering leaving Shiz and not returning next school year.”

Glinda shook her head, refusing to believe that you leaving was a possibility. Shiz University wasn’t the only school that taught magic potions and all that stuff. Before you’d even met Glinda or Elphaba, transferring after your first year was always a possibility.

Both of you were unaware of a certain brown hair, blue eyed individual standing outside of your room door. He’d come to study with you and Glinda, but upon hearing your conversation, he swiftly turned on his heels and stormed off back to his room.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

About a week after that conversation with Glinda, you were shocked to learn that he was the one who initiated the conversation that led to them breaking up.

You should’ve suspected that something was up when Fiyero wasn’t in Professor Wilson’s class. It was the one class you heard him say he was genuinely interested in, and he’d yet to miss a day throughout the entire school year. The professor���s favorite thing to discuss, as of late, were what he deemed the big 3. Aliens, androids, and wizards (and witches) were the 3 worst things you could possibly come across and have to fight.

Less than halfway through class, you thought you heard your name being called. But you looked up and saw Professor Wilson hunched over his desk as he graded papers, and your classmates were all concentrating on reviewing notes since final exams would start tomorrow. Assuming you were going crazy from the amount of studying, you looked back to your notebook.

But then you heard your name again, and this time you looked toward the door. Fiyero stood with his arms crossed, and waved at you to come out of the classroom. You shook your head and held up your notebook. But ever the stubborn man, Fiyero simply entered the classroom and approached Professor Wilson’s desk. The 2 men talked in hushed voices for a minute before your name was called again.

“It’s alright,” Professor Wilson spoke to you. “Prince Fiyero just told me, you may be dismissed early.” You suspected that whatever Fiyero said that allowed this was due to his charm and the fact that you were easily the best student in class. It wasn’t even a question of if you’d ace the final exam.

Feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as your classmates all paused their studying to watch you gather your things, you finally exited the room in record time.

“What—”

“Not here. Your room,” Fiyero spoke, grabbing your books from you at the same time. You could tell he was upset about something, but you didn’t know what.

You had to speed walk to match his stride. “If you’re upset with me, why are you carrying my books?”

He rolled his eyes as if the answer was obvious. “I’m upset but I’m still a gentleman.”

When the 2 of you finally reached your room, Glinda and Elphaba were just leaving.

“Oh shoot I thought we’d be gone already, sorry!” Glinda pulled Elphaba along, not even bothering to say anything else.

“What? Where are you guys going?” You watched as Elphaba turned and shrugged, mouthing sorry.

Glinda, on the other hand, got a big grin on her face as she whispered “good luck!” while giving you a thumbs up. “Actually let me just,” she ran back to you and fixed your hair, then pulled out a tube of lipstick from her purse. She was a second away from applying it on you when Elphaba grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“Good luck!” She whisper-shouted again.

Now you were more confused than ever. As soon as you walked into the room, Fiyero stepped behind you and shut the door.

When he turns back around, you realize something is genuinely upsetting him.

“What—”

“Do you and Glinda make a habit of discussing me when I’m not in the room, hmm? Were you scheming to break us apart?”

Now it’s your turn to be upset, and you realize he somehow overheard your conversation last week. “Excuse me? I have never schemed to break you apart as you so kindly put it.”

“Oh what do you call encouraging her to break up with me??”

You scoffed. “If you eavesdropped on that part of the conversation then surely you heard everything else as well. I didn’t have a goal of hurting you, although I really am sorry that I did. But that conversation wasn’t intended for you and I think you knew that. I was telling Glinda that she shouldn’t settle, and don’t go twisting my words saying being with you is settling. You’re an incredible man and any woman would be lucky to have you. But that relationship wasn’t fair to either of you. I could see she wasn’t happy. And judging by the way you’d flirted with others I’m going to be bold and say that you weren’t happy either.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? I—”

“You’re right, we were both unhappy together, had been for a while. But it wasn’t others I flirted with. Only you.”

This has you pause.

He continued. “And why do you think that is?”

You shook your head and took a few steps back. “No. Fiyero don’t go there. Why are you bringing this up now? Practically all school year you’ve been with Glinda despite admitting that you were both unhappy! Don’t come at me with questions like why do I think that is. We both know that as much as you flirt and maybe it was just with me, it was all talk. And as much as you were both unhappy I know you wouldn’t have just ended things with Glinda on a whim. So what has she done to you—”

“She has done nothing. It is you. You have made a relationship with her impossible. My flirting with you wasn’t just talk, I know that, and so do you.”

“But why! You heard Glinda and I, right? Then I know you heard me tell her I might not be coming back after final exams—” You were interrupted again, and had lost count.

“There is nowhere far enough! Do you think that there is a corner of this earth that you could travel to far away enough, to free me from this torment? I am a gentleman, my father raised me to act with honor but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence. You are the bane of my existence… and the object of all my desires. Night and day I dream of you, and that it is you I’m with. You say that it is all talk, but I assure you it’s not. Do you even know all the ways a lady can be seduced? The things I could teach you…”

You shake your head again and take another step back, but Fiyero takes 5 steps forward and puts a hand on your waist as he pulls you closer.

“I did not ask for this. To be plagued by these feelings. But I was going to keep quiet because you were with Glinda and I thought that was what you both wanted. My intent was not to confess my feelings for you the moment that you two were no longer together.”

“I know,” Fiyero reassures you. He leans forward so that his forehead touches yours and you both close your eyes, only for a moment. “But you do, have feelings? For me?”

“Fiyero I—”

“Please. I need to know if I’ve just made the biggest fool of myself. What feelings are you plagued with?”

You’re unsure if you should tell him everything, but ultimately decide that at the very least, he deserves the truth.

“I am driven to distraction every time you enter the room. It’s why I never study with you and Glinda unless Elphaba is also there.”

“Do you feel for me, as I do for you?” Fiyero puts a hand on either side of your face and moves so that his face is less than an inch from yours. But just moments before your lips touch, you both step back.

You were so caught off guard by his question that you weren’t sure how to answer at first. “Is… is that why you ended things with Glinda?”

“It’s not the only reason,” his answer came instantly. “I love her, truly. But it’s as she said, we work better as friends. Where you and I are concerned, if I were to remain with her, it would bind me and you together in a way that would have me spending every day of my relationship wanting you. Dreaming of you. Dreading the day when my last thread of honor finally snaps. Is that a future you’d want for us? For your best friend?”

You’re not given a chance to respond when you hear talking outside of your room. After a few seconds, the voices grow softer and you realize it was only some students passing by. Still, the interruption was enough to scare you and Fiyero a little.

“You have to go,” a tear falls down your cheek, and without thinking, Fiyero wipes it away. He whispers your name, but you can only shake your head.

As much as he wants to push back and force you to talk, Fiyero can see that you’re close to your breaking point. You need time to be alone, and in truth, so does he. “Can we talk again, before we both leave for the summer?”

Once you nod, he steps forward again. “You and I haven’t even had a chance to begin yet, so I know this isn’t the end.” After placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he turns around and exits your room, closing the door softly behind him.

left it sort of open ended, may or may not do a part 2 depending on if more than a handful of people are actually interested.

[sixeyesanddaydreaming]

Satoru couldn't believe that he trusted a stranger to become his wife, of all things. But before all of that, he couldn't believe he let himself be conned into a blind date all those years ago— by Shoko, of all people, all because she told him, "Utahime and I have a friend we’d like you to meet. We think you'll like her."

Surprisingly, he's always had rotten luck when it came to dating, and he was nearly convinced that he'd be a bachelor for life, being the favorite uncle of his friends' and students' children. He walked into that blind date with nothing but low expectations and perceptions, and he certainly didn't expect to meet someone who knew everything yet nothing about him at the same time.

"Shoko-chan and Hime-chan said you have terrible luck with dating. You, Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer of our generation, have terrible luck with dates and your love life in general? I thought it was funny at first, but I think I have awful luck, too, and we can think all we want, but we both know this has nothing to do with luck," he remembers you telling him this from across your shared dinner table laden with every best seller from the restaurant menu. "You think we relied on the heart-stopping moments more than our faith in our relationships?"

Possible, he thought to himself. He wasn't sure what the problem was. Every relationship he walked into ended because he didn't know what to do when the warm affection started cooling off and conversations started getting heavier. Answers were always demanded of him, even when he had nothing left to say. His exes called him a poor communicator, something they didn't expect from someone like him.

Concern was a flavor of emotion Satoru never really had a taste for. Jujutsu society did not call him the strongest for nothing. He lived up to that epithet— and maybe that's why his relationships suffered. He thought it was a shame your love story was about to end so soon, because once more, he didn't know what to say in the face of yet another woeful conversation, one he hadn't heard yet but was just as heavy as the rest.

"It's not that I don't have faith in you. I'm just worried. Everyone relies on you like you're some invincible hero, and maybe you've convinced yourself that you are, but you're only human," you said as you beckoned him into your arms, his tense shoulders slowly falling as he returned your embrace, as though melting into your touch. "Everyone else may not worry about you, but I do. I always do."

For once, Satoru realized he was truly loved. Perhaps more than he loved you, so he endeavored to return it— perhaps more than you could ever imagine. He realized that relationships weren't all about just love and sparks, but rather required a lot of effort and mutual acceptance to make things work. You found you never had to demand any answers from him because he eventually learned to share his thoughts candidly.

Your relationship was like a never-ending competition of who could out-love the other— from bringing home the most delicious sweets to saving all the strawberries in your shortcakes to building a home where you could be your absolute selves.

Satoru couldn't believe his luck, rotten as he always thought it was, that he trusted a stranger to become his wife, of all things. It was inconceivable that you were ever a stranger to him, because it always felt like you had known him forever.

[choerrysjubiles]

So Good in Blue

pairing: chaewon x cheerleader!reader

warning: mutual pining, friends to lovers, making out, brief mentions of food, never did cheer so I really don’t know what im talking abt

wc: 1.2k

a/n: title is from nobody puts baby in the corner by fall out boy but i think this is more reminiscent to hum hallelujah

also i hate how the only flannel ive seen her in is red!!!! chaewon wear blue pleaaaaseeee 😭

Not exactly your house, or parent’s house, but your room felt like a second home to Chaewon. Your room was familiar in so many ways. Repainting the walls together, helping you put up posters and build furniture together, reorganizing jewelry or your closet. There were so many shared memories in this room, so many she felt fond of.

“Do you still listen to these bands?”

Chaewon was staring at the various posters on your wall. Some tour posters, some inclusions from albums.

“Yeah, of course.” You replied.

“They suck.” She scoffed.

“Maybe to you.”

You walked over showing two outfits: one was a short, blue skirt with a cropped raglan top, the other a yellow dress with a demin jacket over it.

 Chaewon pointed to the skirt-shirt combo.

“Thank you.”

You moved closer to your closet to change. You weren’t keen on wearing your university’s colors but being on their cheer team it was mandatory for games and after parties.

“You know you should wear, at least, something of our school colors.” You commented.

“Do I have to?” Chaewon asked, voice sounding comically annoyed.

“No,” You peered your head out to see her, “but it’d make me happy.”

She rolled her eyes before getting up. Already dressed in a gray shirt and black jeans, she looked around your closet for the special blue item she had to wear.

You grabbed at a blue flannel, showing Chaewon, “What about this?”

“It’s not the worst.” She commented, grabbing the flannel to wear.

After dressing and Chaewon helping you pick out jewelry, what minimal you were allowed to wear. You made your way to your car, letting Chaewon connect to the aux before driving off towards the stadium your team was playing at.

Chaewon liked playing her music, adding just a few of your favorite songs to tease you. It felt like a ritual, always preparing game days with her music while just barely letting you hear your own.

Arriving at the stadium, you showed Chaewon where her seats here. Letting her walk around the food stalls and photo booth stations while your team warmed up before the game. You saw her reappear before the game began, when the families and fans would begin sitting in the bleachers waiting for their teams to come out.

It’s not that you needed to watch Chaewon, she was fine doing whatever she wanted, but it was nice seeing her watch you. Like she was a good luck charm or some higher being looking out for you.

As the game started, your team did your usual cheer routine: warming up the crowd, cheering at the team, the occasional acrobatic. Your team would send out half to cheer and dance before switching with the other half. It was exhausting but this let you rest for a good minute.

Chaewon was mostly watching your team perform, she was never a sports fan. Seeing you and your team lift each other, twirl in the air, even just the cheer routines were far more entertaining than the actual game being played.

‘She looks good in blue.’

Chaewon was a little surprised when the thought popped into her mind. Something about you was bright, shining even. The usual bland uniform looked good on you, the way you kicked and moved, always timed perfectly. She could see the ambition in your eyes, even when she was so far away.

She watched you return to your bench, watching the game continue playing. Chaewon never payed attention to these games, looking over at the scoreboard she saw someone was winning. After some more throws, hearing the crowd around her yell and cheer, she thinks it was your team who won.

Everyone standing and cheering, your team moving to do your final cheer formation before heading towards the locker rooms to change.

“Y/n, you’re coming to the after party, right?”

You froze for a second, “I have plans already, sorry.”

“Oh, you and your girlfriend have a date?” another cheerleader teased.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” You stated, “maybe I have something with family.”

“You never have something with your family.”

You finished changing, walking out towards the bleachers to find Chaewon. Waving to her, you both walked around, spotting any booth or spot you wanted to see before driving off. Your usual routine was to go to some fast food place and eat in an empty parking lot. You found the perfect spot, parking and relaxing in the car.

“You look good in blue.” You said, looking over at Chaewon.

“Huh?”

Chaewon looked flustered.

“Are you okay? You’re all flushed.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, I-”

You stared at her curiously.

“It just feels stuffy.”

“It’s stuffy?”

Chaewon shifted, “A little.”

You both left the car, opting for the cooler air outside. It was a little windy, making the air feel fresher than usual. You both walked towards your trunk, leaning against the truck as you were confused at her sudden change in demeanor.

That usual awkwardness that crept between you was even stronger now. Something shifting in your relationship and it made you a little scared. You wonder if she’s picked up on your changing feelings.

“Chae.”

Chaewon turned to you, she looked flushed, nervous, eyes darting around your face.

‘Now or never.’ You thought.

You leaned closer, “Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?”

“We don’t have to,” You tried to laugh it off, “just thought I’d ask.”

“Y/n.”

You turned to her, seeing her turn more nervous, eyes darting around as she breathed.

“No one’s around,” She breathed in deeply, “if you wanted to.”

‘Woah.’

You leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss into her lips. Her hands grabbed onto your arms, holding you close to her as she pulled you in for another kiss. You pulled away, staring at each other, wondering if the other could hear the bold heartbeat in your chest.

Chaewon pulled you into another kiss, holding you there as she leaned against the car. You could feel your teeth clash against her lips, bruising each other as you felt the heat and swelling around your lips.

You tilted your head as you both moved into a rhythm. You kissed and bit lightly on her bottom lip, pulling away as you opened your eyes to see her flushed cheeks.

“I think I’m in love with you.” You confess.

Chaewon stared at you, “I think I am, too.”

You laughed, pulling her into a hug. Your head tucked into her neck, rocking her from side to side before laying a kiss onto her cheek.

“How long?”

“Huh?” She asked.

“How long have you felt it?”

“A while.” She said sheepishly.

You smiled, leaning in to kiss her more. You peppered her face, her chin, cheeks, along her nose.

“You’ve thought about kissing me.” You teased.

“Obviously you have, too.” She laughed.

“Of course I have! Look at your lame face.” You squished her cheeks, “Can I kiss you more?”

“Sure you can.” Chaewon looked away, furrowing her brows in embarrassment.

You pulled her in, pressing your chest into hers as you felt how harsh your heartbeat was, or maybe it was hers. You licked across her bottom lip, feeling her hands hold onto your neck. You felt her lips part as you licked across her tongue, moaning against her as you leaned further onto your car.

Chaewon pulled off, “Are we still friends?”

“Can we be girlfriends?” You asked.

“I’d like to be girlfriends.”

You both laughed, still trying to kiss even through your fits of laughter.

[suugarbabe]

Origin Stories

(part 4)

summary: it's second year, and baby matty is hopeful that this year will be just as good as the last. what could screw up getting away from his home, being back with his friends, being with you and finally trying out for the quidditch team. probably the chamber re-opening.

warnings: some classic magic child abuse, angst, hurt but comfort, sad baby matty, and draco being a dick

an: as always thank you to my love @musingsofahufflepuff for his magnificent idea contributions, helping me edit, our constant yaps to help build the story & helping motivate me <33; yes there is another part, there will always be more

You had convinced your parents to get you to the platform about half an hour sooner than they did the year before. They had heard you drone on and on about your friend Mattheo all summer and how important it was that you get the same car. 

“It’s tradition mum, I can’t break it! I need to make sure I get it for us,” you gave your mum a big squeeze and she hugged you close. Your dad gave you a brief hug as well and then you headed on to the train. 

You made your way down the aisle of the train, passing multiple open cars on your way. You entered the last compartment, walking up to the second to last door on your left.

Opening it swiftly you nearly jumped, not expecting someone to be in there. Hand on your chest you breathed deeply, “Salazar’s sake, Matty you scared me.” Mattheo continued to look out the window, chin seemingly sitting on his fist and elbow on the armrest of the seat, “Sorry.”

You sat down next to him, digging into your pants pocket, “I got you some fizzing whizzbees..” You pulled the packet of sweets out and sat down next to him. You held the packet towards him, “They’re still your favorite right?” 

Mattheo turned towards you, his head still down, “Yeah, they’re still my favorite.” You handed them over gently, “Are you mad at me or something?” Your brain instantly went to the worst thing, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

Theo had written to you over summer holiday, as soon as it started. He said that it ‘probably wasn’t the best idea to try and write Matt as his mum would not be too keen on it.’  But maybe he was wrong, you should’ve tried. Now Mattheo was angry, he couldn’t even look at you. 

Mattheo shook his head in answer to your question. “Then why won’t you look at me? I wanted to write, I really did but-” Mattheo cut you off, “Was probably best you didn’t.” He looked up at you finally, allowing you to get a full view of his face for the first time. 

There was another one now. A scar. It was the same side, but below his eye. This one went clean down his cheek from right under his eyelid to just below the apple of his cheek bone. “Oh, Matty,” you reached your hand out like you were going to touch it; Mattheo flinched back. 

You pulled your hand back quickly, “M’sorry, I didn’t mean-” He cut you off again, “No, s’fine, I’m sorry. It just gets some getting used to that not everyone is out to hurt you. I’ll be better tomorrow, promise.” 

You shook your head, crossing your arms, “Why did she do it? I know it was your mother. What now?” Mattheo pulled his legs up, wrapping his arms around his knees and holding on to his wrist, “I just…didn’t want to do something she asked.” Kill someone. That’s what she had asked him to do. 

“Bella, please. Not yet. He’s just a boy,” Draco’s mother, Narcissa, pleaded with her sister. She looked at Mattheo, the fear in her young nephew’s eyes. Even down at his side, his wand hand was trembling. 

Bellatrix did not seem to have the same soft heart as the younger Black sister, “It must be done, Cissy. It is his destiny. His father is still gone, so he must step in for his duties until he returns.” Bellatrix held steadfast to the curse that kept the muggle man suspended in front of them, body twisted and contorted. 

Mattheo didn’t know who the man was, or why his mother chose him. He could be a nice man for all he knew. Knowing his mother he was probably someone random, chosen specifically to test Mattheo; to see if he would be up to the task for that of a young Dark Lord.

“You know the spell, dear boy,” Bellatrix leaned down towards his ear, “kill him, Mattheo.” With a shaky arm, Mattheo raised his wand. He pointed it towards the man, whose eyes were now boring a hole into Mattheo’s. 

Mattheo opened his mouth, “A-Av..Avada..” He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say it, couldn’t kill this man he didn’t know. Couldn’t kill something or someone for no reason. Someone defenseless, who didn’t hurt him, didn’t threaten him. How could he?

“Oh you useless boy, out of my way,” Bellatrix shoved Mattheo aside and to the ground. Her wand hand pointed straight at the muggle man as she said the curse effortlessly, “Avada Kedavra.” A bolt of green light shot from the tip of her wand and hit the man square in the chest. 

His body hit the ground with a hard thud. 

Bellatrix then stalked over to her son, boots clicking against the marble floor like a time bomb waiting to blow up in Mattheo’s face. Mattheo tried to crawl backwards until his back hit a wall. 

Bellatrix pointed her wand straight at his face, “What a pathetic disappointment you are.” In a swift motion, a clean cut was made below his right eye. A hiss left Mattheo’s mouth as his hands covered the bleeding wound. 

Narcissa ran over to Mattheo quickly, “Bella! How could you? Your own son?” Bellatrix looked at him with a look that could only be described as disgust, “No son of mine would be so weak.” As she walked away, she shouted over her shoulder, “You can fix him up, Cissy…but leave the scar.” 

But he couldn’t tell you that. No, you’d think he was crazy, or worse…be scared of him. “Matty…I’m so sorry,” the frown you wore nearly shattered him. Mattheo shrugged, “S’okay, you actually helped me through it.” 

You tilted your head slightly, “Whaddya mean?” Mattheo put his hand inside his cloak, pulling out the stuffed dragon you had made him last Christmas. “He, erm, got me through some tough nights.” The three in a row that Mattheo cried himself to sleep after the incident specifically. But you didn’t need to know that detail. 

Your frown grew into a grin and Mattheo seemed to relax a little more, “I’m so glad he helped, that’s the whole reason I made him for you. A little extra pal when I’m not around.” 

Mattheo smiled shyly, tucking his dragon back between his robes right as Theo and Enzo burst into the space. “Oi oi! Whatcha reckon, mates? No longer bottom feeders this year, what’s our new titles, hmm?” 

“Git one and git two have a nice ring to it, aye Matty?” You pointed at each boy across from you respectively, Mattheo laughing in the process. 

Theo would have none of it, “Scusa! I will not have you put me together with him!” Theo tore the leg off his chocolate frog, who was already missing its head, before tossing it in your general direction. 

A pout fit itself upon Enzo’s lips, “Why do I gotta be git two?” Theo raised his hand to smack Enzo, but the latter boy must have worked on his reflexes over the summer and was able to dodge. Mattheo stifled a laugh, “Gettin’ quicker, Enz.” 

Enzo nodded, “‘ve got to be, quidditch tryouts this year!” At the sound of sport Theo and Mattheo bound into a long conversation. You, on the other hand, began to drown them out. Instead, you dug out your new Defense Against the Dark Arts text, an overly cheery wizard on the front, and started flipping through different pages. 

You felt yourself drift off during a debate that broke out on if the Chudley Cannons were going to best the Montrose Magpies this year. The boys must have let you sleep the rest of the ride, as the next thing you knew you felt yourself jolting forward before an arm wrapped around your middle. 

Mattheo quickly pulled his arm away once you’d settled, “Erm, sorry.” His cheeks tinted the lightest shade of pink as everyone began to stand. The four of you followed the crowd of students off the train and onto the platform. 

You peaked at the group of first years being led to the boats by the gameskeeper, Hagrid. Turning back you grabbed lightly onto the hood of Enzo’s robe so as to not lose your friends in the crowd. As second years you got to take the carriages and skip the water ride. 

Approaching the long line of carriages waiting for students, Mattheo stopped in his tracks. Leading each carriage was what looked like a horse with a skeletal body, its face having reptilian features. On its back sat wide leathery wings like that of a bat. Upon his abrupt halting, Enzo, and therefore you, bumped roughly into his back. 

“Oof, sorry mate. Why’re ya stoppin?” Enzo brushed himself off, you doing the same. Mattheo just shook his head. If no one else was going to mention the death horses then neither was he. 

The ride to the castle and walk to the Great Hall held idle chatter. Mattheo slumped on the bench of the Slytherin table, leaning his chin in his hands as his elbows rested on the table top. He hated that you couldn’t sit with them. And he hated that the Hufflepuff table was all the way on the other side of the Great Hall. 

Theo shoved one of Mattheo’s elbows out from under him, his head falling slightly before he straightened himself up. “Nott, what the hell?” Theo nodded towards the other side of the hall. Mattheo turned, seeing you waving enthusiastically. 

Mattheo waved back, albeit a little shyer than your display. You then pointed to his left, meaning you wanted Enzo’s attention for some reason. Despite the growing heat in his chest, Mattheo complied, smacking Enzo in the shoulder. 

He had about the same reaction as Mattheo originally, but looked for you across the hall all the same. Once you knew you had Enzo’s attention you waved as well. However once he began waving back you turned your hand round, choosing now to give him the middle finger with a wide grin. 

Enzo gasped slightly, turning towards his friends, “Did the little badger just flip me the bird?” Mattheo kept his eyes on the table, not trying to hide his smile in the slightest. Theo just shrugged, “If you don’t deserve it now I’m sure you will later.” 

The rest of the sorting ceremony and feast went on without much excitement. The new DADA professor was announced with a chorus of swooning sighs that had Mattheo rolling his eyes unamusedly. 

Prefects led each house to their dorms after the meal concluded. The new slytherin password was pura sanguinis (pure of blood). Mattheo rolled his eyes again. Instead of staying up with the others he decided to go straight to bed. 

Pulling his dragon back out from his robe’s inner pocket he sat it on his bed as he changed. With all the others still in the common room catching up, Mattheo was left alone. He crawled under his duvet, pulling it tight up to his chin. 

Once all good and snug, he pulled your dragon close to his chest. He hoped tonight would be the first peaceful sleep he got since leaving Hogwarts for summer. And even better, the sooner he slept, the sooner he could wake up. And hang out with you again. 

Mattheo woke about two hours before the others. He had showered and gotten dressed before anyone else in his dorm had even subconsciously thought about waking up. He wanted to get to breakfast early. Partly to make sure that you guys got your same spot (it was crucial) and (more) partly to possibly get some one on one time with you before everyone else made their way up to the great hall.

If there was one thing Mattheo had learned about you over the last school year, it was that your excitement often kept you from sleeping. So he really shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was to find you already sitting (in your group’s spot) at the Slytherin table. 

A lone Hufflepuff in their black and yellow sweater sitting at the table with a green and silver runner lying across it. Mattheo walked over with a growing grin, taking his rightful spot next to you on the bench, “Morning. Really thought I’d beat you here.” 

You turned to face him, now straddling the bench, “Couldn’t sleep, too excited. How’re you? Better than yesterday?” Mattheo’s face heated slightly, but he nodded, “Yeah, much better now that I’m here.” You smiled a little bigger at this, Mattheo mirrored your expression. 

Mattheo could tell you wanted to say something more, or maybe ask him something. You were gnawing on your bottom lip and looking around a lot. “Was there something else?” Mattheo’s heart rate rose, wondering what you could be nervous about asking him. 

Stuttering through your sentence you asked him shyly, “C-could I, erm, do you t-think I could give you a hug?” Your cheeks blushed and Mattheo could feel his face falling to one of shock. “I just..” you were gnawing on your lip again, “I just missed you a lot over summer, and I couldn’t write so we didn’t get to talk at all and…if it’s a weird ask I understand. I’m still learning wizard friend protocol.” 

Mattheo couldn’t help but smile at your ramblings, “There’s no wizard friend protocol.” There was a long pause then. You still obviously waiting for him to answer your original question. His skin felt like it was getting warmer, he’s never been asked that by anyone before. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever actually been hugged before. 

He wasn’t sure he wanted you to know that, though if he said yes you might find out right away. You spoke up first, “S-sorry, I dunno why I asked, it was weird, wasn’t it?” Mattheo shook his head, “No, no I’m sorry. I missed you too. Terribly so, actually,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “y-you, erm, you can give me one. A hug.” 

Your smile returned then, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around Mattheo’s shoulders and pulling him into you. He felt a little awkward, not knowing what to do with his arms. He’s seen people hug before. He tried to mimic that.

Wrapping his arms around you as well, giving a small squeeze as you did. 

It was over quicker in real life than it probably felt in his head. He felt warm all over after. You just remained smiling, turning back towards your plate and starting to fill it with food. Mattheo turned and did the same, Theo and Enzo entering the great hall looking still half asleep. 

“Well don’t you two look cheery,” you teased as the last two to your foursome joined you for breakfast. Enzo gave a grunt as he made himself tea. “Vaffanculo,” Theo grumbled, leaning his head on his fist and closing his eyes again. 

Mattheo stifled a laugh but you narrowed your eyes, “Don’t you curse at me, Theo.” Theo peeked an eye open, eyebrow raised, “I did not curse.” You just shook your head, “Lie. I looked up all the Italian curse words this summer so I’d know when you were trying to be sneaky.” 

Theo rolled his eyes. However, Enzo found this thrilling news, “Oh that’s perfect. He’s been saying shit around us for years.” 

“You’ve never thought to, I don’t know, try and translate what he’s been saying?” You looked back and forth between Enzo and Mattheo. The latter boy giving a noncommittal shrug, “Too much work.” 

You shook your head at them all, “Ridiculous, the lot of you.” There was a brief silence as you all loaded your plates before you spoke again, “Anyone else notice the new pompous arsehole that will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year?” 

“Oh so I’m not allowed to curse but you are?” Theo complained. You just rolled your eyes, “You can’t curse and try to hide it.” Enzo interrupted your spat before it continued further, “I noticed him. It’s hard not to when our entire collection of text for that class is his bloody smiling face.” 

Theo rolled his eyes, “I’m not opening a single one of those books this year. There’s no way we’re learning anything. Matt over here could probably teach us more than that loser.” 

Mattheo shifted a little in his seat, trying to hide any uncomfortableness with a smirk, “Probably, but I’m not teaching anyone else but you three.” The four of you continued to laugh and make fun of Lockhart until you noticed Enzo dropping small bits of food into his shirt pocket. 

“Erm, Enz…what’re you doing?” You were looking at him curiously, but that seemed to give him no indication of what you were wondering about. “Hmm? I’m eating breakfast like the rest of you?” 

Mattheo gave an incredulous look, “I think they’re talking about you stuffing food in your pocket, mate. What’re you doing? Saving a snack for later?” Enzo gave a small laugh, “Ohh, no, no. That’s Mocha’s breakfast.” 

The three of you just stared at him blankly. Enzo shook his head with another small laugh before sticking his hand in his pocket and pulling out a small light gray frog with brown and black branding. “A tree frog?” Theo sat up a little straighter, “aren’t those things poisonous?”

Enzo huffed out a laugh, “Mocha is a mission golden-eyed tree frog. And she only secretes poison if she feels threatened.” 

“A milk frog named Mocha…” Mattheo was doing his best to suppress a smile. “Yes,” Enzo smiled proudly, “I got her this summer, was a birthday present to myself. I’m a father now.” The rest of you groaned.

“Aren’t frogs supposed to eat like..bugs and stuff?” Mattheo inquired. Enzo shrugged, “I give her bugs too, but sometimes she likes a special treat. What kind of father would I be to deny her of that?” 

Theo quickly tried to change the subject, “So..quidditch. We’re all trying out this year, yes?” Mattheo and Enzo nodded enthusiastically, “Tryouts will simply be a formality, they’d be stupid to not let us on the house team.” 

Theo turned to you, “What about you, badger, trying out for your house team?” You barked out a laugh, “Merlin, no. Won’t catch me dead on that pitch.” The three boys looked at you with slight shock.

“But, erm, I’ll be supportive of you guys. What positions are you trying out for?” Your question seemed good enough distraction, Enzo going into a long spiel about trying out for chaser. You really did your best to pay attention, Enzo saying something about practicing all summer and learning a new move that should ‘really help him outshine anyone else’. 

Theo mentioned that he was going for keeper, but wasn’t hellbent on definitely making the team. “I just think it’d be a fun time, yeah?” Mattheo and Enzo nodded. “And what about you, Matty? What position are you trying for?” 

He shrugged, “Probably beater. Might be helpful in getting out frustration.” You frowned briefly, but Enzo and Theo both gave a small laugh. 

“So you’ll watch us try out then, little badger?” Enzo asked enthusiastically. You gave a smile, “Sure, Enz. I’ll come watch.” Mattheo felt that pulling sensation in his stomach again. It was mixing a little bit with anger, but he wasn’t sure why. Enzo was his friend. You were his friend. You guys could be friends too, then. Right?

Mattheo was starting to believe that second year was going to be far better than last year. So far he had transfiguration, charms and potions with you, and now he was on his way to DADA with you, Theo and Enzo. 

“I bet you ten galleons all he does is talk about himself,” Enzo started placing bets as you all walked into the classroom. Once through the doors you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling. On either side of where the desks in the classroom sat were a line of photographs of Gilderoy Lockhart posing in front of different adventure spots. 

Even more horrifically was a large 12-foot tall framed painting of himself painting…himself in another smaller canvas. 

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone’s taking that bet, mate,” Mattheo’s grin was large as he sat down on your right. Theo and Enzo sat at their own table on your left. Enzo opened his mouth to respond only to be interrupted by your new narcissistic professor and his grand entrance from his office.

“Let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher…me,” Lockhart declared from the top of the stairs. “Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five times winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile award,” he punctuated his speech with a toothy grin.

Half of the class seemed to swoon at Lockhart’s theatrics. You and the rest of your friends sat chin in hand, bored looks on each of your faces. Halfway through Lockhart’s speech about himself and all his glorious defeats Enzo was lightly snoring. 

Mattheo and Theo were not much better. Matty’s head slipped from its place in his hand, his jerking down slightly before he sat up straight again, “What I miss?” You laughed lightly, “He actually just performed all the unforgivables.” 

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, “Are you fucking with me?” Rolling your eyes you stifled another laugh, “Of course I’m fucking with you - oh no…that..that is not good.” Mattheo turned to where you were worriedly staring. 

Lockhart placed a large bird cage full of cornish pixies on the table next to him. Most of the class started laughing. “Cornish pixies?” Seamus, a Gryffindor student asked in amusement. “Freshly caught cornish pixies,” Lockhart corrected, “laugh if you will Mr. Finnigan, but pixies can be devilishly tricky little blighters.” 

You pulled on Mattheo’s robes, “We gotta get out of here.” Lockharts hand was on the latch to the cage of pixies, Mattheo just smiled, “What’s wrong? Badger afraid of some little pixies?” 

Shoving Theo awake you turned to Mattheo with a glare, “This badger happens to be pretty proficient in magical creatures, you fucking knob. And those pixies are bloody riled up good. We need to leave.” 

“Rilassati, amico,” Theo groaned, looking like he was about to fall back asleep. You scoffed, “No, Theo, I will not relax. Ugh, why are you lot not listening to m-” Lockhart flicked open the cage. 

In an instant, roughly fifty cornish pixies barreled out of the cage and around the room. Students were shrieking and ducking under desks. One grabbed onto Hermione’s hair and Potter used his textbook like a beaters bat and thwacked it away. 

Neville, another Gryffindor student seemed to be getting the worst of it, being lifted up by his ears by several pixies before being dropped to hang on the chandelier by his robes. 

“Fuckin’ Salazar, look what they did to Longbottom,” Enzo pointed at the stout boy now dangling. At that same moment, two pixies began to grab and pull on each of Enzo’s ears. “Hold on, mate,” Theo reared his hand back before smacking Enzo hard on the back of his head. 

Both pixies let go and flew away as Enzo nearly smacked his face on the desk in front of him, “What the hell, Theo?”

“Come on,” you pulled both Matty and Theo with you through the doorway, Enzo following quickly behind, still rubbing the back of his head. “No, that’s alright. You lot just go on without me, I’ll stay here with the pixies who tried to attack me.” 

“Oi! I got them off of you didn’t I?” Theo had a small smirk on his face. “You didn’t even hit them, you just hit me!” Enzo shouted with a pout. 

You fell in step with Enzo. “Awh, poor thing,” you cooed, “did big, bad Theo hurt your head?” 

Enzo grumbled, “He’s not big.” Theo let out a laugh, flexing his muscles, “Not big huh. We’ll see on the quidditch pitch this weekend.” Theo and Enzo started laughing and shoving each other. Trying to one up back and forth the rest of the way to the great hall for lunch. 

“Are you still gonna watch me tryout?” Mattheo asked, his shoulder bumping yours briefly as he came to walk beside you. A warmth spread through your chest, “I said I would, didn’t I?” 

Mattheo grabbed your arm, halting both of you from following the others into the great hall, “Do you pinky promise?” He held out his hand, pinky out, just as you did to him the year before. 

You hooked your pinky with his without any hesitation, “Yeah, Matty. Pinky promise.”

October in Scotland could be a hit or miss when it came to the weather. Thankfully, the day of the Slytherin quidditch tryouts were sunny with just barely a breeze. You sat on the wooden bench of the tall stadium seats, watching a decent sized group of students fly around and ‘warm up’ for whatever the tryouts were going to entail. 

You hugged the cardigan you were wearing a little tighter around as a particularly large gust of wind blew by. Marcus Flint, the current captain, shouted out plays and orders for everyone to follow that was more confusing than when Theo spoke strictly Italian.

Mattheo hovered in front of Flint, Theo and Enzo on either side as they were given instructions for tryouts. Apparently they were going to go at it like a scrimmage, Marcus splitting the teams up to go against each other. 

It didn’t go unnoticed that one side heavily outweighed the other in talent and age, but Mattheo wasn’t too worried about it, he felt confident in his abilities as a beater. Thankfully, he and the other boys were on the same side. 

Despite their younger age, the three of them were quite good at their positions. Enzo’s current smaller stature than the older students was given him an advantage in diving between attempted blocks and avoiding bludgers on his way to the goal posts on the other end. 

Theo’s ever growing limbs were assisting him in blocking the posts on their end. Mattheo flew back and forth across the pitch, tracking both bludgers and their directions, whacking them towards the other team's players when needed. 

On his way back towards his own team’s side of the pitch he flew by where you were sitting. You gave an enthusiastic wave as he did, him doing the same when he noticed what you were wearing. 

Green wasn’t typically a color you wore, considering your house was Hufflepuff. Mattheo also couldn’t recall your initials being L.B., or your family crest mimicking that of Berkshire. Were you wearing Enzo’s cardigan?!

“Matty, behind you!” you were pointing over his shoulder, clearly distressed by whatever was headed his way. Turning he saw the black iron ball whizzing in his direction. Gripping the bat, Mattheo swung with the full force of his frustration, the bludger launching towards an older Slytherin on the other team. 

He heard you cheering, and deep down he knew it was for him. But all Mattheo could think about was you in Enzo’s clothing. If you wanted to wear something to support them, why didn’t you ask him?

Another bludger was coming near, Mattheo smacking it away with great force once again. He had plenty of green clothes you could’ve borrowed. He was practically bred to be a Slytherin. 

Mattheo was losing sight of the purpose of the game, strictly seeking out the bludgers himself just to beat the hell out of them into another direction and chase them down once more. You said yourself that he was your best friend, wouldn’t you borrow from your best friend?

Flint called the game, saying he’d seen enough. Everyone flew back down to the ground of the pitch, forming a small huddle. Mattheo was ignoring everything said, still reeling internally about what he could have done to make you feel like you couldn’t ask him for something. 

“And for beaters, we’ll take Bole and…Riddle,” Mattheo was snapped from his thoughts as Flint announced he had made the team. Theo and Enzo clapping him on either shoulder in congrats. 

“Good job, mate,” Enzo smiled at him. “Bravo, amico,” Theo gave him a small shove. Mattheo allowed himself to smile at his feat, “Thanks, erm, did you guys make it too?” 

Theo and Enzo both looked confused. “What, were you not listening? You are the only small person that made it, the class under,” Theo shook his head with a laugh. 

“Theo, mate, you can’t call them that. Those ‘small people’ are goblins. Mattheo’s a wizard,” Enzo wore a shit eating grin. 

Too focused on his sarcasm, Enzo didn’t notice you walking up behind him. That is, until you landed a particularly hard flick on the side of his head, “You’re an idiot, Berk.” Theo roared with laughter, “That’s one, badger. Now you’ve only got one free flick left from last Christmas!”

“How are you gonna injure me when I lent you my best cashmere jumper to support us,” Enzo wore a wounded pout. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “You basically forced me to wear it. Can you believe he told me I couldn’t wear my own house colors? Like I’d somehow be bad luck?” 

So you didn’t ask, Enzo was just a prat, good to know. “I’d say if anything, you being there was good luck, I did make the team after all,” Mattheo was grinning now, true and genuine after his earlier worries were squashed. 

You flushed slightly at his words, feeling it reach up near your ears. You would play it off as a cause from the wind if anyone had said anything, but thankfully no one seemed to notice. 

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. We’ll make it next year and then we’ll really be unstoppable,” Theo hoisted his broom over his shoulder, Matty and Enzo doing the same as you all headed back towards the castle. 

Enzo and Theo, per usual, started walking ahead. Leaving you and Mattheo in makeshift seclusion. “You looked pretty impressive out there,” you linked your arm with his as you walked. 

Mattheo did his best to stay relaxed, “T-Thanks, erm,” he cleared his throat, “thank you. And, erm, thanks for coming and cheering us on.” He ran his hand through his curls before pulling them down slightly.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Not when it was something important to you.” 

His face immediately flushed. He could feel it all over, from the tips of his ears, across his nose, even down his neck. You had to have noticed, but you didn’t mention anything. Instead you just allowed the peaceful silence to fall over the two of you for the rest of the walk. 

The best part about October at Hogwarts was the very end. The very last day to be specific. Because the last day of October meant one thing: Halloween Feast. And while Theo and Enzo, and many more students, were chattering about what food the castle elves would be cooking up, Mattheo could only think about one thing. 

You two couldn’t enjoy it together. 

Special event feasts meant you had to sit at your house table. Mattheo hated that your house table wasn’t his. But that didn’t stop him from sitting where he could look for you. 

Nearly willing you to look his way. You always did. And you always waved. It made his heart happy. He still couldn’t believe he was able to make a true and genuine friend. One who didn’t care about his blood status, who his parents were, what he was destined for. 

Theo gave Mattheo a quick nudge with his elbow, pulling him back to reality with those around him. The feast was now apparently over, Mattheo had barely eaten anything.

As the four tables of students slowly became a giant mass, Mattheo’s eyes never left your form. Weeding through students as if they were nothing in order to get to you. “Matty, hey!” your hand rose high in a wave, Mattheo pretending like he wasn’t already looking in your direction. 

Theo and Enzo were quick to appear behind him, immediately speaking as if they were already in the middle of a conversation with you, “So we’re going to a party, yeah?” 

Mattheo shot you a questioning look, you rolled your eyes. “A party Theo? How are second years supposed to get into a party?” Mattheo threw an arm around your shoulder, facing the two, “Yeah, what bright and brilliant idea have you two concocted in order to get us in?” 

“Why do we want to get in?” You add on. You’re all moving with the crowd from the great hall towards the main split off of corridors for all the houses. Enzo lets out an exasperated sigh, “Because I heard a bunch of fourth years that were going talking about it and they all sounded very excited. Must be a good time.” 

You glanced at Mattheo, a smirk forming on his lips, “And where is this party taking place exactly?” 

“Ravenclaw Tower” “Gryffindor Tower” 

Theo and Enzo spoke both simultaneously and opposite. You and Mattheo exchanged a glance, “So neither of you know. Are you even sure you heard the right information?” 

Enzo opened his mouth to reply when the four of you all seemed to run into the people just ahead. Hushed whispers fell over everyone, and for good reason. High on the corridor wall in front of all the students was a message seemingly written in blood. 

The chamber of secrets has been opened…enemies of the heir…beware

Mattheo grew rigid. He glanced around the crowd of students. No one seemed to be staring at him, which was good. Then the nasally sound of his cousin rang over the crowd. 

“Enemies of the heir, beware? You’ll be next, mudbloods!”

A scowl flashed across Mattheo’s face. You grabbed his arm, “Leave it. He’s not worth it.” Mattheo looked at you, your eyes seemingly pleading for him to just let it go. 

Dumbledore’s voice then boomed over all the murmuring. “Prefects lead your houses back to your common rooms. The fun seems to be concluded for the night.” 

Enzo let out a groan, “So no parties?” 

Mattheo slumped into the puffy yellow sofa in the Hufflepuff common room. You sat next to him as Theo and Enzo sat in two adjoining lounge chairs across from you. “Sorry you lost the game, Matty,” you really were empathetic, even if you didn’t know what was going on. 

“Match,” Enzo corrected, "It's called a match not a game”. 

 “Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, “M’still sorry.” Mattheo shrugged. The match wasn’t really on his mind. At least not in the way that everyone was probably thinking.

Last week someone had started a rumor that Mattheo was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets. That he was the heir to Slytherin and the one who’d been threatening everyone. 

When a first year with a camera was rumored to have been petrified a few days ago, everyone started to avoid him like the plague. Everyone except you, Theo and Enzo. There were even a few other Slytherins that had actually congratulated him, whispering to him students he should attack next. 

Theo encouraged those students to shove their wands up their ass. 

Before the match this morning Mattheo had found out that it was Draco who had started the rumor. He immediately wanted to pulverize his weasel of a cousin but you had encouraged him to ‘channel his anger towards the bludgers instead’. 

Mattheo had planned on doing just that. But it didn’t seem like he really needed to. Any time he flew near someone they almost immediately went the other way. He could only assume they were thinking what the rest of the school was, too. 

“I honestly thought the rumor Malfoy spread would’ve helped you guys win today, just have you fly by anyone with the quaffle and they’d avoid it,” Enzo meant it as a positive comment. Mattheo hadn’t mentioned to anyone that he technically was the actual heir. 

But he wasn’t the one who opened the chamber. He hadn’t even heard of it before it was written about in blood on the walls. 

“Golden boy Potter always manages to get the snitch though doesn’t he,” you huffed out annoyed, “even breaking his bloody arm in the process.” 

Mattheo ran his hands through his curls, “Can we talk about something else besides the match…and people thinking I’m on a petrifying spree or something.” 

The barrels to your common room rolled open, a group of fifth years coming in. They stopped short seeing three slytherins sitting on their sofas. A sour look crossed over the tallest one’s features. 

“Who let the killer in our common room?” a few of his friends snickered behind him. 

You were immediately on your feet, wand drawn, “Go fuck yourself, Cedric!” Enzo stood up with you, “Yeah, Diggory, ya cockwomble, how about you all go have a group wank and leave us alone.” 

Cedric gave Enzo the finger, which the younger boy gladly returned in double and a show of his tongue. The older Hufflepuffs went off to their rooms, leaving the four of you alone in the common room once more. 

You sat back down, immediately apologizing for your housemates. Mattheo waved it off, more so secretly thrilled that you defended his honor. Theo brought everyone’s minds back to center, asking the real question, “Enzo what was that word you used? Cockwiggler?”

You and Mattheo couldn’t suppress your laughter, Enzo rolling his eyes, “It’s cockwomble, mate. It's like…an idiot, a person who’s being an idiot.” 

Mattheo shook his head, “You’ve gotta be fucking with us, Enz. There’s no way. You made that shit up on the spot.” You agreed with Matty, “Yeah, Berk. I swear you’re just saying shit with confidence and assuming everyone else won't question it.” 

A playful argument then ensued, everyone asking Enzo what other words he’s been making up. As Mattheo readjusted in his seat, a letter fell out of his robes. You grabbed for it, seeing the front for only a brief moment before Mattheo was snatching it from your hands. 

“What’re you doing? Did you reach in my robes?” 

You looked at him confused, “What? Of course I didn’t. What’s wrong? Who’s that from?” Mattheo could feel the other two staring now. The earlier light hearted conversation now traded off for this one. 

“It’s from my mum,” Mattheo held the letter face down, choosing to stare at the broken wax seal of his family crest instead of his mother’s scratchy scrawl. Enzo inhaled through gritted teeth, his face in sort of a grimace. Theo just looked like he felt sorry for him. 

You wore a small frown, clearly remembering the terrible things Mattheo’s mother has done to him over the last year. “Are you in trouble?”

Mattheo shook his head, “Kind of? But not really. She just sort of said that ‘my presence wasn’t necessary during the holidays’. It’s fine. I don’t want to be around them anyway. Especially fucking Malfoy.” 

You nodded in agreement, it seemed to be what Mattheo needed. But your heart ached at the thought of him staying at the castle for the holidays. 

Eventually the conversation shifted, Mattheo saying he was tired and should probably head back to the dungeons. You walked them to the barrel door, before walking directly to your desk in your room and grabbing a quill and parchment. 

The rest of December until break was not very kind to Mattheo. Another student, a Hufflepuff this time, became petrified. If people were weary of him and the boys hanging in your common room before, it was extremely frowned upon after that incident. 

You had suggested just hanging out in their common room instead. Mattheo was extremely against this at first. Stating that there were ‘too many people who thought like Draco’ and that you would stick out like a sore thumb in your yellow and black attire. 

When you suggested just borrowing a sweater or two of his, he came around. 

That was how you were able to get into their dorms without much question to help Theo and Enzo (mostly Enzo) finish up their packing for the holiday break. “Merlin, Enz, did you even start packing before we came up here?” 

Enzo threw a pile of clothes near his trunk, “Nope.” Theo grumbled at him in Italian and Enzo just stuck out his tongue in response. 

“Did you at least remember to pack your frog?” you were teasing him, assuming Mocha was already somewhere safe like his pocket. Enzo turned around at the mention of his amphibian child. 

He patted the shirt pocket on his chest, then picked up his robes and started feeling in each of those pockets. “Merlin’s beard…I’ve lost my daughter. Holy Helga, I’ve lost Mocha. Mocha! Where are you sweetie? Daddy’s worried about you!” 

He started lifting the pillows of his bed before turning behind him and tearing apart Theo’s as well, to much protest. You started to look around the dorm when you noticed Mattheo smiling. 

Walking over to him you crossed your arms, “What did you do?” Mattheo didn’t make eye contact. Instead he just kept smiling, holding his gaze towards something higher, almost like he was trying to concentrate on keeping a spell going. 

Following where he was looking you saw Mocha floating a few feet above Enzo’s head. Having enough of the Slytherin shenanigans you poked Mattheo between his hip and ribs, the boy letting out a small yelp, however you succeed in breaking his eye contact. 

Mocha landed right atop Enzo’s head. He was so relieved to see her he didn’t even question how she got there. 

Once you had assisted in getting them somewhat organized you had walked with the three Slytherins to the carriages that would take students back to Hogsmeade station. 

Theo and Enzo had gotten in with a few other Slytherins, Enzo abruptly wrapping his arms around you in a farewell hug. 

You, of course, hugged back after the initial shock wore off. Enzo went to do the same to Mattheo. Who immediately held up his hand to stop him, “Absolutely not.” 

You stood with Matty as the carriages rode off. Watching them get smaller and smaller the farther they got away. 

It took him a moment before he realized you were still standing next to him. “W-what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you have gotten on the carriage with them?” 

You gave Mattheo your biggest smile, “Oh, didn’t I mention it? I’m staying here too. We’re going to spend Christmas together.”

[daryldove]

If requests are open, how about prison era reader and Daryl tiptoeing around one another? Like they’re always stealing glances at one another and blushing when they’re caught etc. Reader loves to draw and read, so Daryl is always on the lookout for books and art materials when he’s on supply runs. He’s super awkward about giving her the gifts when he’s back, stuttering through how he thought she’d like it. And maybe one time he comes to her room to drop stuff off but she’s not there, and as he leaves the books he notices her sketchbook open to a drawing of him, and that’s the boost he needs to finally admit?

Loving You Is Easy

daryl x gn!reader, prison era

It starts with lingering stares and accidental brushes against each other. You didn't think much of it from his end; you were significantly younger, and in the short time you'd known Daryl, he never seemed eager to emotionally connect to anyone—let alone romantically. But you couldn't help reading into those lingering looks and the extra attention he seemed to give you. You'd fantasise about him, alone in your tent at the farm, and eventually in your prison cell, too. The tension had only continued to build for months while on the road, even while being preoccupied with survival.

Coincidentally, you both took on the role as providers. Daryl hunted as usual, and you learnt how to forage on top of obsessively making sure everyone was hydrated enough. It wasn't until someone made a passing joke about how you were like the group's parents, that you noticed. and then you couldn't get it out of your mind.

The prison offered a well deserved, and much needed, respite from the months spent living on the run. For the first time since the start of it all, you felt like you could actually let your guard down. Although the upgraded safety meant there weren't as many opportunities for Daryl to hover with the excuse of keeping you safe, the attraction between you only continued to bloom.

One afternoon, to your surprise, you return from the showers to find a small sketchbook on your bed. Nothing directly indicated it was Daryl, but you just knew. The book was beautiful, bound with rustic, thick leather and blank pages. You had only mentioned your passion for drawing in passing, wishing for nothing more than to have the opportunity to paint again. The thought of him not only remembering, but seeking out something for you, thinking of you—it makes your heart swell.

You tell him as much, sitting side by side on the watchtower, grateful to finally get some alone time with him after a busy day. The sketchbook sits in your lap as you observe Daryl lighting up a cigarette beside you with a warm smile. He takes a long drag before looking back with those soft eyes you love.

“Thank you, seriously. It's sweet of you,” you say as your fingers fidget with the worn leather. He shrugs modestly, as you knew he would. The warm light from the setting sun casts a distractingly beautiful glow on his features, and you find yourself staring shamelessly as he speaks.

“Found some paints too, didn't have ‘nough room to bring' em back though. Didn't even know if it was the ones ya like.” Your smile widens at his thoughtfulness, chest tightening with just how sincere he sounds.

“This is enough, really. I don't mind. I didn't think I'd have the chance to draw again, let alone paint.” Your voice fades off as you lean closer to him, seeking more. His touch, his warmth, anything he's willing to give. You'll gladly take it all.

Right as the sun dips below the horizon, you gently rest your palm in his, watching as his fingers spread without hesitation to intertwine with yours.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Spooktober Prompts Masterlist 2023

"They are calling us…" "Don't listen to them. Do you hear me? Don't listen to a word they promise you!"

The cameras show five people enter an elevator, but only four of them leaving it. Those four never remembered a fifth passenger.

"Aww, are you so afraid of the dark that you need me to hold your hand?" "I'm not holding your hand." "Then whose..."

At first, they believe it to be a bad joke, but when more and more graves of people who haven't died yet appear in the graveyard, they start to panic.

The camera she bought at a flea market already has photos on it. Since the people are wearing clothes from centuries ago, they believe them to be from a play. But they soon realize that those photos and events were real.

A child actress turned cult leader feels her power slipping and she needs to gain control over her following again.

When they started building the new school, they had expected to maybe find unexploded WWII bombs, but what they found instead was nothing they could have expected.

She heard footsteps behind her coming closer, but when she turned around, holding her breath, she could only see the dark and empty alley.

"Why did you choose the cemetary as our meeting place for tonight?" "Because only the dead can keep our secrets."

Going to your own funeral and see who would cry - it sounded almost fun. If it wasn’t for the fact that they could hear and see everything, but could not make a sound to stop them from closing up the grave around them.

A medium without a voice of her own, can only speak when a ghost speaks through her.

They had always felt that shadows seemed to beckon to them. But this time, when the shadows beckoned, they wore a sinister grin. (Submitted by: tumblebumblebee-63)

"I'm not haunting a filthy public bathroom, I'm a ghost with class."

A fun survival game TV show on a remote island becomes a reality when one contestant after the other turns up brutally killed. Right in front of hundreds of cameras and millions of watchful eyes.

Waking up to a child that you've never seen before, but that everyone assures you is your own that you've raised for years, is terrifying.

"Did you see that?" "Did I see what?" "That man... he touched the leaves and they immediately blackened and fell off. Please, let us go back before he sees us!" "Too late." The man in the dark cloak suddenly stood right in front of them and slowly reached out his hands to them.

What started as a fun midnight activity suddenly turned into one of them missing and the others running for their lives, trying to escape freaking zombies.

He always dreamed about being in a kdrama. He didn't imagine it to have a horror side plotline that feels way too real.

They said that when you die, you return to earth as your one true self. Why then, when he opened his eyes after being killed, were his teeth long and he hungered for blood? (Submitted by: ouilah)

She didn't think it would come to this point. She felt the cold stone of the gravestone in her back and before her the red glowing eyes of the creature crept slowly closer.

There are perks of being a ghost. Walking through walls was fun. Or haunting annoying people. But nothing was quite as nice as being able to just fade out of a conversation that you didn’t want to be a part of.

"I dare you! Come on, stop being a coward. There is no such thing as ghosts."

Someone wakes up to a text saying 'It's your lucky day!' and it turns out to be the worst day ever.

A family of vampires that lives unidentified in human communities, becomes paranoid and starts to believe all their neighbors are also supernatural creatures.

There are stories and superstitions abound about the seaside bluffs, but that's to be expected in a town of fishermen. One night, from the bluffs' direction, you hear someone singing, softly. (Submitted by: someoneoffthestreet)

Astronauts coming back to earth keep talking about hearing songs from outside the space shuttle. What they don't say, is that those songs followed them home.

Someone stared at her through the window. She had always felt safe in her own home, shutting out the scary, real world. But a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily…

A plane disappears from the radar and then reappears multiple hours later at the exact same location in the middle of the ocean with no place to land and not enough fuel to just fly around for hours.

"We shouldn't enter! This place was abandoned for a reason!" "Come on, don't be a coward. We will be the only ones here!" "Okay, okay... I'll follow you. You don't have to push me!" "I... I didn't push you..."

A session of reading tea leaves ends in chaos when every single participant reveals a bad omen.

Something tells the home owner that the kids trick-or-treating in front of his house are not wearing costumes - and are not human at all.

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[secondsistershelby3]

A MONSTER BUT NOT FOR YOU [2]

Pairings: Joel Miller x immune!Reader

Summary: you were born and raised in shit, like so many other people born during the apocalypse, you knew that things would be even more difficult since that fateful day in 2015, but did you ever imagine that people would no longer see you as a human being, or maybe someone would?

Warnings: !SPOILER TLOU!, typical violence of the last of us, angst, blood, quite specific descriptions gore, age gap, SMUT, 18+, obscenity, !Legal!, flashbacks, I will try to make Joel behave in a fairly canonical way

Words: 2,0k

Note: I'm glad people enjoyed the first chapter, I had this idea in mind for a while but I never had the courage to write it because I thought it was a bad idea

MASTERLIST

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Boston, 2023

Your skin was cold as ice, almost as if you were dead, even though it was hot in Boston. You felt almost helpless, as if you hadn't moved in a week. At the slightest noise you jumped up in the air thinking that whatever made the noise was coming into the room with you. The room was dark, except for a few slivers of light that came in from the window during the day, the chains had left a mark on your wrists from how many times you had tried to free yourself. There was only silence

"uuuggh WHAT THE FUCK!"

well not completely silent, since every day you heard a voice complaining and pulling on the chains in the room next to yours. You could hear them always asking her the same thing: "count slowly and clearly from 1 to 10", "now hold out your hand" "say your name slowly", you always heard her answer.

Count, Veronica, count Veronica, count Veronica, always the same answers

For you, they only came in to feed you, they looked you up and down and then they left. No tests, no questions, no 'courtesy'

You didn't speak, you only used gestures: you kicked, you gave the middle finger, you spat, you pulled but not a single word. You had been in that shitty room for a little over a week.

No torture, nothing like that, it wasn't because you were weak.

It was because they hadn't fed you since they put you in this room. Not the food that is usually meant, something else that you wanted to repress for days but that in the end you had to give in, a souvenir of that night, along with others.

You had your knees pulled up and your arms around them, trying to stay "conscious", in case someone came in.

The door in front of you opened and you threw yourself back against the wall, panting and feeling your face throbbing, as well as your arms and legs.

"you're still… well you" Marlene approached slowly, still remaining at a certain distance.

"you're not going to say anything today either?" nothing. That bitch didn't deserve a word from you, she just had to give you some fucking blood tests and blood samples, instead here you are.

"I know you don't like this, but if I had told your sister and brother they wouldn't have let me do it, and this operation is important and we're sure we can do it with you" you were sweaty, out of breath but you still managed to give her a threatening look and suddenly you tried to sprint with your little strength but the chains were too short and they pulled your wrists for the umpteenth time. Marlene remained still where she was.

"you'll understand that all of this is for the greater good" you remained on your knees staring at a fixed point while you heard the door close and you returned to the dead silence, you don't know how much you would have resisted your impulses and you didn't want to find out.

—

"I told you that you couldn't trust Marlene, damn it!" Thomas whispered to Denise as they walked quickly to the building where they had left you because Marlene wanted to do some "tests"

"She seemed trustworthy, I.. I thought I could trust her…" Thomas turned quickly towards his sister, making her stop suddenly "that's why we shouldn't trust the fucking Fireflies" Thomas looked her straight in the eyes and sighed before starting to walk again.

Denise loved you and only wanted the best for you but she thought she could trust her, they both trusted the Fireflies, but for a while you had your doubts about that group, but they gave you extra rations, a comfortable place to sleep and in exchange they wanted you for a blood sample or test, but never for that long. They had to understand that Marlene wanted to screw them

While walking through the streets of Boston the two ran into some F.E.D.R.A. soldiers that surrounded where it looked like there had just been an explosion.

"it must have been those fireflies again" Thomas sighed - "yes.."

they only had one thing in mind, to have a talk with the boss of the fireflies

—

You hadn't counted how much time had passed since Marlene had spoken to you. But you knew that you were getting worse by the minute, your veins were pulsing all over your body and your almost primal instincts were struggling to get out and you were about to let go of everything, close your eyes and abandon yourself to the darkness.

But gunshots prevented you, you raised your head suddenly and opened your eyes wide, the gunshots continued and were reciprocated, you also heard people shouting commands from one side to the other, people running on the stairs, going up and down.

And then the door opened

"sir there's a little girl here"

it was your chance to recover and escape, but it wouldn't have been nice, not for you, nor for this F.E.D.R.A. soldier.

The darkness obscured most of your body.

"are you infected?" the soldier continued to slowly approach

"I'm sorry…" you whispered

"what-"

screams

gunshots

grunts

blood…

so much blood

the soldier was dead.

—

Tommy moved carefully as he entered the building with Denise and as he closed the door trying not to make any noise he felt a tap on his shoulder "Tommy…" his sister Denise's whisper scared reached his ear

"What-" as soon as Thomas turned he saw two dead bodies in front of the stairs. One was a firefly, the other was a soldier of the F.E.D.R.A.

"fuck…they got in" - "and if they got in it means they'll find her" they looked at each other at the same time and hurried up the stairs, fuck being silent, the F.E.D.R.A. had found the fireflies and that meant they would find you too.

Thomas went with the gun pointed in front of him as he checked every corner before moving forward, Denise looked at his balls with her revolver.

As they climbed another flight of stairs they heard the first voice

"Joel!"

fucking Marlene.

Thomas turned to Denise and put his index finger in front of his mouth to signal for silence. They stood against the wall as they walked forward, the voices getting closer and closer

"Ellie" was still Marlene's voice, it sounded authoritative as if she was scolding someone.

Thomas leaned forward slightly and saw 5 people, Marlene, next to her presumably a firefly, a girl who couldn't have been more than 15 years old on the ground, a man and a woman next to her. He could shoot one of the two unknown adults and they might have had a chance. Thomas took a breath and aimed the gun at the adult man, he put his finger on the trigger.

"Thomas, wait!"

Everyone turned around and the two smugglers immediately pointed their guns behind them.

"Don't shoot Joel!" Marlene stopped them immediately.

"Where the fuck is our sister Marlene?!" Thomas continued to keep his gun pointed, Denise did the same standing next to him.

"everyone put your guns down first, we're not enemies" Thomas raised his eyebrow

"oh no? so taking my sister as a guinea pig by surprise isn't being enemies?! - "now calm down and put your gun down Thomas and I'll give you your sister back" Marlene held one hand in front of her for safety while the other rested on the wound

Thomas looked from Marlene to the two strangers. "they have to put them down first"

silence fell in the hallway. "Joel does as he says" Joel glared at the head of the lights "Do it!….please"

Joel looked at Marlene and then Thomas and motioned for Tess to put her gun down, Thomas and Denise put theirs down in return.

"where is she?" asked Thomas as he slowly approached the group, continuing to check the two in front for safety. Marlene nodded towards the door next to the girl on the floor.

Denise looked at her brother and rushed to the door, took a deep breath and turned the doorknob and pushed it, letting light into the room.

Denise opened her mouth wide and gagged when she saw the scene in front of her, she put her hand in front of her mouth to keep from vomiting and turned her head to the side. Thomas put a hand on his sister's shoulder and tried to get his courage up to go in.

A F.E.D.R.A. soldier was lying on the ground with part of his guts hanging out, he had bite marks on his neck, his intestines were hanging out of his body. There were bullet holes on the walls, there were several.

Thomas turned his head to look for you but he didn't see you "fuck..fuck, fuck"

He immediately turned to Marlene and went angrily towards her, but the woman next to her raised her gun towards him "what have you done?!" Thomas had a look more than furious

"Thomas" Denise looked behind Marlene

"no christ now she have to listen to me, she have no idea of ​​the seriousness of the actions she have done!-"

"Thomas!" - "WHAT?!" he turned her head towards her sister angrily. Her sister had a worried look as she pointed her head towards the stairs, behind Marlene.

When your brother turned his head in that direction, he finally saw you, you had blood on your clothes and a little on your face, you were breathing fast, your face almost tired "holy christ.." he whispered before rushing towards you, your sister did the same, Thomas put his jacket on you. They just hoped that the two of them hadn't seen the body in the room.

"we had a deal Marlene, a fucking deal!" - "I had to do it, I needed you to help me carry the girl" Marlene sighed in pain with her hand on her hip as she looked at Thomas

"and I still need her" Thomas' eyes widened with an almost amused expression

"are you kidding us!?" your sister spoke to that statement

"my soldiers are dead and having your sister is more than indispensable, and I need you too" Marlene turned her head towards the smugglers

"Who is she?" asked the woman

"to you? She's a cargo"

"we don't smuggle humans and not with other kids" - "but how old do you think we are excuse me?" your brother looked at the stranger with anger

"he had to escort her to the government building, I had squadrons and armored vehicles but not anymore and you are the only ones who can do it"

"you are fucking crazy" your brother laughed

"there will be some fireflies there and they can escort you to Wyoming, that's where you want to go, right?" Your brother had an arm around you as he looked at you. Yes, they had wanted to go there for a while, they had heard that there was a community of survivors and they could finally be safe but they didn't know how to get there, but they didn't know if they could trust Marlene as much as they do now.

"and for you there will be more than a battery, I can give you also an armored vehicle with a full tank, weapons, supplies, I swear" Marlene turned her head towards the two smugglers then pointed her finger at you

"she may seem like a little girl, but you don't know what she is capable of, she is as much as you if not more, it will be more than essential" you looked with a cold gaze at the two strangers in front of you

"who said we accepted?" - "I swear I'm telling you the truth Thomas, I know what I'm getting into if I don't tell you the truth this time"

Thomas looked at Denise as the smugglers walked away to talk "I don't want to put her in danger" your sister spoke

"I can do it" for the first time in a week you had uttered a word "if this takes us to Wyoming…I can do it" you turned your head towards your brother more than determined

You walked down the stairs with your brothers behind you while you looked at Marlene without saying anything.

You had been locked up for almost 14 days but you finally got out but how long would it take you to get into trouble with these new "companions"

—

I swear the interactions with Joel will come, but first I wanted to introduce everything a bit

[mayasaurusss]

I don’t know where you went BUT now you’ve got me thinking so you’ll probably return to lots of thoughts.

My bad.

Anyway, this is kinda inspired by a scene from your first Jackie fic (The feeling of you), which still holds a special place in my heart. More specifically the one where they find the old sex magazine.

I should mention that this is rather silly because I’m pretty sure this does NOT exist in the actual Fallout universe but hear me out:

Maybe reader and Lucy are childhood best friends from Vault 33. Maybe they have already made out or kissed to “practice” in the past, but it never meant anything more than that…Right?

Because when Lucy stumbles over some rather obscene Holotapes and one of the people looks an awful lot like you, she can’t help but keep it. Just so sure no one else finds it, she tells herself. Just to make sure no one else mistakes them for you, or, worse, pictures you like that!

Except that Lucy watches it again. And again.

And every time it gets harder not to touch herself, picturing herself fucking you like that. Picturing you in all these positions she now desperately wants to try out with you but will probably never get the chance.

Or at least it’s what Lucy tells herself, which she also uses an excuse to finally give in.

Only that you catch her, mid masturbation, to a certain tape, moaning your name…

-🌿

Caught red handed

Contents: transfem Lucy, from fuckbuddies to couple, smut sprinkled with romance! Word count: 2k/six pages. A/N: Here it is anon! This time, the smut might not be top gamma, but I think it's fine. I was a bit busy these days, but I tried to make it as lenghty and juicy as possible. Enjoy!

You and her are best friends, she repeats, you and her are just best friends. And she's just taking care of herself. I mean, what harm could it make? It's just a thing people have been doing since the dawn of time. There's nothing wrong with it, nothing.

But no matter what she tells herself to feel better, Lucy can't shake off the building sense of guilt in her heart: masturbating to the thought of her best friend. That's a new low.

Her best friend, who she kisses. A lot.

It was just for practice in the past. Both of your stupid teen selves used to daydream about your married life, as young people do.

As you grew older, you started to daydream about kissing. Lucy would wonder how kisses would feel, enamoured with the idea of being in love. But she had to practice, so she would be prepared for the night of the wedding. And what better way to practice than on you? You both got something out of it!

Nevermind the way her heart fluttered when you pressed your lips against hers, or how her blood pumped when you added just a tad of tongue in the mix.

Now, years later, you never stopped kissing each other. When no one is watching, you both sneak off into Lucy's room, making out with each other until your lips are sore. It's always hard to ignore the tent forming into the brunette's pants when your kisses are a tad too much for her.

But life goes on, and as of right now, neither of you have yet found a spouse.

Today, Lucy is cleaning some old trash that had been sitting around in one of the vault's deposit rooms. Some of these things are well over two hundred years old; she has to be careful not to break them. Just as she's inspecting an old book, the box tips over, spilling its contents through the floor. Among all the gimcracks and trinkets, there's a clean black tape, with little to no scratches on it. This is new, she thinks, someone must have hid it in there.

Lucy looks behind her back, making sure that no one sees, before snugly fitting it inside the vault's suit. What harm could one missing tape cause?

She brings it back to her own room, not aware of what the afternoon would hold for her. She turns on her television, buzzing to life with grey colours, before she pushes the tape in. She sits comfortably on the couch, expecting some new movie to add to her repertoire. Maybe she could recommend it to you, if it was entertaining enough.

And! ...Oh. Oh.

Well, it is a movie alright. Just... not the type she was expecting. On the screen there are two people, and they are...well, yeah.

Lucy can feel blood rise to her cheeks at the moans and sounds the couple makes. The video is already halfway, probably left like that after someone watched it and quickly hid it. So the first thing she sees is one of them grabbing the other and lifting their head up by the hair, before starting to drive into them with a strength that leaves the brunette breathless.

What gets Lucy the most, though, is the fact that the one currently pounded into the mattress looks eerily like you... She has your hair, your eyes, your lips... if she didn't know any better, Lucy could swear that the person she was watching getting pounded into the mattress was you.

She can feel her own length coming to life, straining against the jumpsuit's fabric. Mindlessly, she begins to grind her hips, feeling how her cock gets pressed down onto her body, the tight fit so delicious...

Ok, ok. This is filthy. She should-.

The one that looks like you whines loudly when the other cums in them, their eyes rolling to the back of their head...

Ok, no.

Lucy pauses the movie, makes her way to her room's door, as much as her hard cock allows her too, and opens it, peeping into the hallway to see if anyone is near. There's no one, thankfully. She falls back on the couch, her dick now making an obvious tent in her pants. She's breathless, red in the face, and with a really big problem to take care of.

"No no, I- I can't let anyone find it. Wouldn't want someone to think it's actually them", she says to herself, but as she stares at the paused scene on the screen, her hand slowly travels up to zip the suit open, its flaps falling at either side of her as she slowly reaches for her cock. She turns on the tv again, this time restarting the video from the beginning.

She's greeted by the sight of those two, enacting a little fantasy, before they start to make out.

As your copy starts to undress, Lucy teases herself, touching her cock lightly from above the fabric of her boxers.

Her breath is laboured, as if she had been edged for hours, her skin sweaty beneath the tight vault suit. She starts to touch herself more, fondling her length until it hardens. She was never a fan of masturbating, alone, that is, but seeing the person on the screen undressing, looking directly at her while her hand strokes up and down the length of her cock ... it really feels like beginning here with you. Which also, admittedly, makes her feel incredibly guilty.

She really, really shouldn't be doing this. This isn't okay, you are her best friend. She shouldn't...

A loud moan echoes from the screen, inadvertently making her thrust into the air.

She can watch it, just a bit...

After all, she's just taking care of her problem. That's what she says to justify herself.

But there is something so... forbidden about all of this; which of course makes everything hot as hell.

She fishes out her cock, circling the thumb on her tip before pressing down on it, pre-wetting her sensitive skin. She teases herself, playing with her tip before working herself up, her hand coming up and down. Lucy's eyes remain glued to the tv screen as the two party members start to grind on each other. She can't help but fantasize about you: naked, killing her with that smile of yours and that voice that could lure fishermans towards the sea. She dreams of your hands on her skin, of your eyes looking at her, of your lips on her cock.

She's so deep in her lust that she doesn't even bother getting off of the jumpsuit, leaving it half open; her pants are lowered to half the length of her ass, barely enough to let her dick breathe. A drop of sweat trickled down her temple, her mind so focused on milking out every last second of pleasure she could have.

A hitched gasp leaves her when she sees the two of them fucking on the bed, a close up of their backsides as one drives into the other flashing on the screen.

Oh how she wishes it could be her and you; Lucy would take such good care of you: kissing and touching you wherever you'd like,

She imagines you two on her bed, your legs on her shoulders as she drives into you. You are sitting on her lap, riding her. Fucking you from behind while she grabs your leg, desperately trying not to cum. Pushing your head on the bed, watching as your ass ripples at each one of her thrusts.

Shit, she's not gonna last much longer...

Lucy finds herself at the edge of her peak, so lost in pleasure that she doesn't hear you come in.

"Lucy! I found this movie; maybe we could watch it-" you hear the moans before you see her. For a moment, you think she's with someone, but when you hear her loudly moaning your name, you are confused. Slowly you peek into the room, your gaze stopping on Lucy: she's sprawled on the couch, her clothes and hair messy. Her breath is heavy, her skin sweaty and your eyes travel down just enough to see her pleasuring herself.

She is just on the brink of coming, when she sees you at the door; for a second, Lucy stands unmoving: wide eyes and blushing, hand clenched tightly on her cock, before she processes your presence.

"Shit!" she scrambles to cover herself up, but what's done is done. Her pants barely cover her properly, leaving a tent in them.

Lucy's face is as red as a beetroot, her lips trembling slightly: "...Hi" it's the only thing she manages to say, too shy to speak further.

This feels incredibly

"Sooo, what'cha doin'?" you mentally facepalm yourself as soon as you say that; 'Why would you ask that?! You idiot! It was obvious that she was-'.

Her long fingers play with the hem of her pants. "You know... stuff" she mumbles, flicking her fingers faster now. "Stuff?" you should really shut up.

She doesn't answer, instead, turns to look at the fake yellow tulips on her coffee table like they're the most interesting thing in the world.

God, could this situation get more embarrassing?

Might as well just get on with it. "Lucy...I...I heard", you state, and watch as she closes her eyes, breathing through her nose to give herself the strength to face this conversation. She never quite looks at you, focusing her attention anywhere else. She's silent, biting her lip with worry. How could she have ever hoped that you wouldn't have heard her scream your name?

"What do you think...?". Where's our relationship going now?

And when she fully expects you to turn her down, to look at her with spite in your eyes and say "You disgust me. Get out of my life", you surprise her.

"I... I think I liked it". Lucy blinks a few times, the information not quite registering in her mind.

Huh?

"What?" "I liked it" you repeat, this time looking straight into her eyes.

Oh. "I liked you for a long time".

Oh fuck.

"Are you- are you sure? I mean, we have been best friends for all our lives. This could also be just-" you take her by the jaw, roughly shoving your lips on hers. Her breath is heavy, pushed through her nose with each movement she makes against your lips.

Her tongue darts out, licking at your bottom lip to ask for your consent to enter, and when you do, she's quick to take your head by the nape of your neck and trap you under her touch. This feels different from all the other kisses you two exchanged: this feels hot and thrilling

That's all she really wanted. Not any boyfriend's lips, not any husband's, just yours. You kiss and kiss and kiss, until your lips are sore and your limbs as soft as butter.

"I am sure", you say, your breath ghosting over her lips.

"Uhm... wow. I- I don't know what to say" she can feel the tips of her fingers shaking with excitement, her own arousal long forgotten in favour of savouring you. And when you look at her with those eyes, she is positive she's about to pass out.

"Well, do you like it?" feeling the touch of your fingers pressing on her tigh makes Lucy short breathed.

"Oh I- I uhm yeah, I certainly do" her gaze falls to your lips, wondering how they'd feel around her-. Her cock twitches inside her pants at the idea, making you laugh and her curse, "I love it so much".

Electricity flows between the two of you, sparking into fire when you place your hand on Lucy's cheek, leaning to whisper directly above her lips :"Can I?" you ask, your fingers already on her chest, fiddling with the suit's zip.

Soon enough, you both stand naked against each other, grinding down so that her cock between your legs. You can see it in her eyes that Lucy is barely able to stay conscious, her eyes slightly rolled backwards and her mouth agape, taking in big gulps of air whenever you press a little too hard on her sensitive dick.

"Are you... are you sure about this?" she asks you, worry visibly written on her features.

"Of course I am" you kiss her on the lips again to soothe away her fears; then, you line her up and let her sink into you.

Slowly pushing the tip in, the rest of her quickly follows, hips coming into contact with her crotch.

It's more difficult than you'd thought: it pierces through you, alien to your body. You can feel the tip far inside, farther than your fingers could. Lucy is there for you, slowly coaching and whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you feel ready.

When you do, you rest your hands on her shoulders while hers grip at the flesh of your ass, propping you up as best as she can, before you start to move. The first trust of your hips feels weird, not pleasurable, but as you ride your best friend's dick more and more, something sparks in you, warming your body.

And Lucy? She's absolutely losing her mind. "W-Wow..." her hands tremble at either side of your hips, adrenaline coursing through her like a river. "Wow? That's all you've got to say?". Apparently, it is; Lucy is lost in pleasure, her mind making the effort to resolidify from the goop it became. "I mean... it's just, wow". You'll take that as a compliment. You never stopped riding her, now rocking your hips each time they come into contact with her crotch. Slowly, Lucy moves her hips below you, meeting your bounces halfway, before she properly starts to fuck you. Her hands hold you in place, her hips spear you down her cock, so hard and fast that you might pass out.

And when you dig your nails into her shoulders? Oh she's so loving that. The more your hole spasms around her, the closer she is to the edge of her orgasm. No, she wants more. "I want to... wait" she slips out of you, and in a moment, takes you by the hips and pushes you over, now straddling you from behind, one leg on the couch, the other on the floor. Your face is pressed against one of the couch's armrests, ass up high in the air, hole gaping, ready for Lucy's dick once more.

She shudders as she enters, a spark forming in her guts, setting her body aflame. Her thrusts resume, the change in position driving her deeper inside, if that's even possible. Seeing your ass move with each of her thrusts gives Lucy a wicked idea. She can experiment a little, can't she? Her hand comes down hard on your cheek, making you yelp and hold on on the armrest for dear life. You look back at her, with a scowl on your face that says 'really?!', but it dies as she does it again and again, until you feel your flesh sting.

As much as Lucy wants to edge you, she is not unaffected by pleasure. A particular hard thrust from her starts a chain reaction of you clenching hard on her cock, making Lucy moan and fall on top of you, her breath heavy against your ears. Just as you are there, about to cum on your best friend's cock, you feel her hand travel up your spine, up your nape and finally resting on your head. Her fingers tangle in your hair, and then she pulls hard, arching your back and leaning down to whisper in your ear "You've been so good for me". Oh come on, be a little more adventurous. "I-I want you to cum on me". That will do for now.

You don't know what it is about her words that gets you so much, but they scratch an itch inside of you that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"I'm about to..." it happens before you can finish, your orgasm wrecking your body from head to toe, until you lay spent on the couch. Lucy follows shortly after, yanking her dick out of you and cumming on the couch, probably staining it forever.

You can feel Lucy's heavy breath on your neck every time she exhales, a hitch of her voice making its way out. And just as her lips inch next to your ear, just as you think she's about to say something so romantic- "Wowza...".

You want to be annoyed at her so badly, but don't find it in yourself to be mean. You turn around, now throwing your arms on her neck. "How did I find myself such an awkward girlfriend?" Lucy doesn't miss the last word, but makes no effort to point it out, "You like it though, right?".

You suppose you do.