#sorry about the moodboard it was made in a hurry

[navybrat817]

And Everything Nice

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: You visit the tattoo parlor when an uninvited guest shows up at the bakery. Word Count: Over 2.8k Warnings: Bad ex, mild (h)arassment, protectiveness, brief moments of insecurity, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics . Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU. ❤️ Thank you to @rookthorne for listening to me ramble about this part! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

I am going to ask Bucky Barnes out.

After going through the closing checklist, Tess gave you another quick pep talk and said the only thing that would hurt if he turned you down was your pride. Deep down you knew it would hurt more than your pride if he said no, but you didn't say it out loud. She must have sensed it since she added she was certain he'd jump at the chance to date you.

"You got this," she said, giving you a quick hug. "Sorry to run, but-"

"Like I said, I got this," you said, waving her on. Normally you walked out together when you both closed the bakery, but she had somewhere to be. "Have fun!" you added as she rushed out.

Once you finished up a few minutes later, you strode to the door with your keys in hand and a smile on your face. Tomorrow was going to be a good day. You could feel it. And you would look Bucky in the eye with a smile as you asked him-

"Closing all by yourself?"

You weren't sure how you managed to not drop your keys, or not throw a punch, when you spun around and saw your ex in your personal space. You wanted to wipe the smirk off his face when you took a deep breath. "Thanks for sneaking up on me, Richard. Mind backing up a little?"

"Aww, did I scare you?" he asked as you quickly locked the door. "Not even a 'hello'?"

"We haven't talked since we broke up," you reminded him. "But hi and bye."

Richard charmed you in the beginning when you met him, like he did with so many others. Beyond his good looks, he was a confident man. It didn't take long to see that beneath the surface was a spoiled man child who was used to getting what he wanted, or thought he could buy everything. You included.

Breaking up with him was one of the best decisions you made, even if your mom disagreed.

"Where are you going in such a hurry? You should get a drink with me."

"I have plans," you lied, wondering what the hell he was even doing there.

"So? Break them. I want to talk."

The suggestion sounded more like an order and you weren't in the mood.

"I said I have plans. I'm sorry."

"Then why are you still in your work clothes?" he asked, gesturing to your outfit. "And who do you have plans with? Some new guy?"

"Because I'm changing later," you said, staring across the street as a smile spread on your face. "And not that it's any of your business, but yes. He's a tattoo artist."

You weren't sure why you said that. Maybe because you hoped Bucky really would be your guy. And because the thought of him also made you feel safe.

You half expected Richard to laugh as you walked around him, but he put his hand on your arm instead as his face twisted into a scowl. "You're not hanging out with him. You're getting a drink with me."

You wrenched your arm away before he could tighten his grip. "We aren't together anymore. So you don't get to show up out of nowhere and order me around," you said as you went to the curb.

"Don't act like a fucking brat when I'm trying to give you another chance."

I'm the brat?

"Not interested. Have a good night!" you said before you looked both ways and dashed across the street to Bucky's shop.

The entrance was cozier and more open than you expected, the sound of the needles bringing you a strange sense of comfort as you adjusted your bag on your arm. Pictures of various tattoos in different styles lined the red walls above the front desk and leather couches. You wished you had the time to pick out which works belonged to Bucky.

Another day.

"Hi! Welcome to Sin on Skin!" the man behind the desk cheerfully greeted you as he typed on the keyboard. Even sitting down, you could tell the man was built, his muscular arms covered in a variety of tattoos. He may have been intimidating if not for the glasses and warm smile. "Do you have an appointment?"

You glanced over your shoulder and saw your ex making his way across the street. "Sorry, I don't. Is Bucky here? I really need to talk to him."

"Oh, yeah. Just over there. If you want to take a seat, I can-"

"Thank you. I'll be quick," you smiled, hoping Bucky wasn't in the middle of an appointment.

You glanced around at some of the other artists as you walked over to the chairs and noted how exceedingly gorgeous they were. There was one with short dark hair and a beard that looked like he could kill someone with his tattoo gun if they stared for too long. The girl sitting at his station and the man behind him with shocking pink hair and bright smile both brought a ray of warmth to his almost dark aura.

Is it a prerequisite to work in the shop that you have to be good looking? And either look intimidating as hell or incredibly alluring?

You gripped your bag to keep your hand from shaking as you saw Bucky engaged in a quiet conversation with Steve, recognizing him from earlier. You were almost afraid to interrupt. "Hi?"

Both men turned toward you with smiles on their faces as Bucky pushed himself up from his stool. “Hey, Sugar. Couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see me?”

"Something like that," you said.

"Wait. That's Sugar?" the man with the pink hair asked. "No wonder you keep going to the bakery."

"Don't hit on her, Hal," Bucky warned, earning a chuckle from the other man. "Go bother Andy."

"He already is," a deep voice replied.

You would ask later just how much he spoke about you to the other artists. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting. My ex was waiting for me outside of my shop and I kind of panicked and said I was meeting you and I rushed over here."

"Your ex?" Bucky asked, immediately moving forward to rub your arms in a soothing gesture. "Are you okay?"

"Hi! Welcome to Sin on Skin!" you heard the guy at the desk call out before you could answer.

Instead, you burrowed yourself against Bucky when you heard Richard shout your name. Rock solid and sturdy, his hold kept your nerves from bubbling to the surface. You had nothing to be afraid of.

So why am I shaking?

“You’re kidding me, right? This fucking asshole?” Richard scoffed as you looked over your shoulder at him. He didn't walk any closer, but his voice carried throughout the entire shop. "Like putting a bumper sticker on a piece of shit car, isn't it?"

“Richard, just leave.”

"Does your mom know you're spreading your legs for some tatted up lowlife? Still a disappointment, aren’t you?”

The jab cut deep as much as you wanted to ignore it. He knew that your mom judged every part of you. No matter what you did, it was never good enough.

You wouldn’t focus on that for the time being. "

You do not come into his shop and insult him. Bucky, I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize for this asshole, Sugar. His opinion of me means less than nothing, trust me," he assured you before he faced your ex. "You, however, are banned from my shop. You can get out now or Jake will call the cops for trespassing. After you apologize to my girl for upsetting her. Your choice, Dick."

Your heart fluttered as you leaned into Bucky more.

His girl. It sounds right.

"Please. I can buy the shop tomorrow just to bulldoze it to the ground," he sneered before he jabbed a finger at you. "And you know what? Keep her. I tried to give her another chance, but she's not worth it. She's a lousy lay anyway."

The insult washed away the momentary good feeling and was the tipping point that brought tears to your eyes. It was humiliating enough that you were the root cause of a scene in Bucky's shop, but the jab in front of his employees and customers brought it to another level. Why did you think hiding in there was a good idea?

Does Bucky think I'm a total loser now?

It was only when you sniffled did you notice the entire shop had gone silent, a dangerous tension in the air when Bucky tightened his arms around you as Steve and Andy slowly got to their feet.

"Hey, why don't you and I go in the back?" the friendly girl at Andy's station suggested. "I think there's some snacks back there, right?"

Andy nodded and gave her the go ahead.

"Bucky," you whispered as you dared to look at him. A tear slid from your eye when you saw the murderous gaze on his handsome face. "I'm-"

Before you could register what was happening, he pulled your face toward his and kissed you. Fierce, yet gentle as he brushed the tear away with his thumb, you let him take the lead. A slow simmer of warmth crept into your cheeks as he parted your lips with his tongue and coaxed yours into his mouth. Your fingers twisted in his shirt as he deepened the kiss and shifted so you were pressed almost completely against him.

If this is how he kisses, he might actually kill me if we ever go further than that.

He breathed into your mouth as he stole the very oxygen from your lungs when he pulled away.

"Go in the back," he told you, his gaze dropping to your lips. Did he want to kiss you again or was it wishful thinking on your part? "I just need to take out the trash, finish up here, and I'll take you home, okay? I won't be long."

It was a feat that you didn't shed more years with how gently he spoke to you.

"Thank you," you whispered, unable to say much more.

"Let's check out that snack collection back there," you heard before you were pulled from Bucky's grasp.

You didn't look back at Richard when the girl tugged you away, but you heard a slight waver in his voice as yelled after you.

That's right. You should be afraid.

"Thank you," you said, wiping your eyes with your hand.

"No need to thank me. One of my good friends just got out of a bad relationship and I'm still a bit in my protective streak," she explained. "Are you okay?"

"I think so."

You tried to remember how Richard acted around other guys when the two of you dated. Had he been the jealous type and you just ignored it? Or did he only cause a scene because you showed him you wanted to move on?

Tess is going to flip when she hears about this.

"Well, whether they just throw him out on his ass or worse, he deserves it for what he said to you," she added before she told you her name. "Everyone calls me Sunny."

"He does," you agreed, introducing yourself as she handed you some water. "Bucky calls me Sugar."

"And you work in the bakery across the street?" she guessed.

"Co-owner," you said, the small talk calming you. "Do you work here or are you a client?" you asked, noticing that she didn't have any tattoos.

"New client. I work in an animal shelter," she smiled. "Grumpy out there is going to give me a sun tattoo."

"That's nice," you smiled back. It seemed fitting with her warm and bright presence. "I really do appreciate you bringing me back here."

It was somehow just as warm and inviting as the entrance, the couch worn and comfortable. You wondered how often Bucky came back here to relax and hang out in-between his appointments. Would he ever bring you back here if you stopped in to see him?

"I figured the amount of testosterone out there could be a bit overwhelming, but are you sure you're okay?"

"Other than being incredibly embarrassed, yeah."

Even though Richard was no longer your boyfriend, he just had to barrel back into your life and leave a mess in his wake.

"He's the one who should be embarrassed," Sunny said, wiggling her eyebrows. "Especially after seeing that kiss."

Your face warmed as you replayed it in your mind. The silver lining for showing up tonight was receiving such a passionate kiss from Bucky. It was difficult not to get swept up in the moment though and you told yourself it was likely just for show. A way for him to stick it to a guy who upset you.

Right?

"It was a really good kiss," you smiled.

"Oh, we all felt the heat. Trust me."

Both of you giggled until there was a soft knock on the door frame.

"Hey, Sugar. Trash is out on the curb," Bucky winked. "You ready to go home?"

Your heart fluttered as you smiled back. "Yeah, I'm ready."

You didn't live far away, but Bucky still insisted on taking you home. He even took you out the back way so you didn't have to see anyone. While he didn't specify exactly what happened with Richard, he assured you he wouldn't poke around either of your shops again. It made the drive home more pleasant knowing he looked out for you.

So much that you almost took his hand when he stopped outside of your place.

Almost.

"Thank you for everything," you said. "I'm really sorry about tonight."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Not the first time we've dealt with assholes in the shop. Steve and I don't like bullies."

"I still feel bad," you said, wishing the feeling would go away.

"Please, don't," he whispered.

Your fingers twisted in your lap before you took a deep breath. "When you came into the bakery earlier today, I was going to ask you out," you told him, but refused to look at him. "But after that, it's probably a dumb idea. You shouldn't have to deal with that kind of trouble."

Maybe there's a better girl out there for you.

"You think one asshole ex is trouble?" he asked, leaning over to grasp your chin so you'd face him, goosebumps rising on your arms from his touch. "I can handle that."

"But what he said in your shop-"

"He did that to bring you down because he's an asshole. Guys like that don't want to see girls thrive without them."

You scoffed and mumbled, "I wonder what you'd think of my mom.

"I'm not afraid to stand up to anyone who tries to hurt you," he said, keeping a hold of your chin with a tender grip as your chest tightened. "You said you were gonna me ask out. Don't change your mind because of them."

"So, you really want to go on a date with me?" you asked.

"If I say 'yes', do I get to kiss you again?" he replied, running his thumb along your lower lip.

You were torn between sucking his thumb into your mouth or sinking into your seat. "Maybe we should get an actual date under our belts first. You only kissed me to prove a point or something."

Even if it felt like heaven.

"Or maybe I've been wanting to kiss you since I walked into your bakery and I want to kiss you again," he said, sliding his hand around to the back of your neck with ease. "Proving a point was an added bonus."

You looked at him wide eyed and subconsciously touched your lips. "Wait, you want to kiss me just because I asked you on a date?"

"I can give you a whole list of reasons," he said, his gaze flickering between your lips and your eyes. "And I'd love to go out with you. Friday night, Sugar?"

"It's a date, Hottie," you smiled when he leaned in.

But he didn't kiss your lips.

He brushed a kiss to your forehead, which somehow seemed more intimate.

"You had a rough evening. The next time I kiss you, I want it to because it's the right moment, just for the two of us," he explained when you furrowed your brows. "My girl deserves that."

A soft smile played at your lips as something warm welled up in your chest. He could have easily taken advantage of how vulnerable you felt by stealing another kiss, but he didn't. Even though you were into each other.

Going to see Bucky tonight was the right choice.

And you couldn't wait for your date.

Love them. Love the whole gang. Except Richard. Fuck that guy. And where are they going on that date? Check out What Dreams Are Made Of to see how Bucky is feeling. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Medical blood draw, allusions to abortion, poorly written smut

A/N: Even after figuring out where I wanted to go with it, this chapter feels weak to me. I’m sorry.

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

You looked over Daryl’s shoulder and squinted at the light before the man moved, wrapping a curiously gentle hand around your bicep to urge you into the building. 

“Daryl, you cover the back.” Shane ordered quietly. 

The lobby was eerily quiet, no immediate answer to Rick’s calls. You looked around for a moment and then tracked Daryl while he kept a keen eye out for walkers. A small hand squeezed your shoulder, startling you. When you turned, Carol was already pulling you closer to herself and her daughter. They were keeping the women and children in the middle, protecting them. 

You wanted to balk at the idea. You could very well handle yourself if they would give you a weapon but apparently that was still out of the question. 

There was the echo of a gun cocking, all eyes falling on the lone man at the end of the corridor, a rifle in his hands. “Anybody infected?” He asked, warily eyeing each member of the group. 

“One of our group was.” Rick answered solemnly. You could sense the collective shift in the atmosphere, now heavy with grief. “He didn’t make it.”

The stranger didn't hesitate. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

“A chance.” Rick countered immediately. 

“That’s asking an awful lot these days.”

“I know.”

There was a moment of contemplation, the gentleman once again scanning over each and every individual. “You all submit to a blood test. That’s the price of admission.”

Rick’s relief was evident in the tone of his reply. “We can do that.”

Weapons were lowered, the stranger nodding toward the doors. “You got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes, it stays closed.” 

There was a sudden burst of movement, bags and people shuffling about. Your own bag was pushed into your hands, Daryl’s eyes meeting yours for a moment before he jerked his chin to indicate you should follow the others into a rather large elevator. It was a squeeze but everyone managed to fit. Even if it did mean you were pressed tightly against the redneck. 

“VI, seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here.” 

There were beeps and rattles as the elevator closed. Introductions were being made, information shared but you could only focus on the heat radiating from the man nearly pressed flush against your back. With a careful step, you shifted closer to Carol. 

Everyone filed out once the doors opened but remained behind Dr. Jenner, listening to him explain the facility and what had been happening within the government sectors since the turn. Your thoughts, however, were running circles around the blood test he would be doing. Maybe you could manage to be the last draw and ask him in private to run the extra test if it wasn’t already on his agenda to do so. You could only assume that his priority was to ensure no one was infected. 

“Hey.”

Your head snapped up to find Daryl watching you with a narrowed, cautious gaze. 

“Keep up.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” You mock saluted, hurrying by him. He muttered something as you passed that you figured was probably nothing you cared to hear. 

Straight to business, Jenner began drawing blood samples. Chewing on your lip, you began to creep back toward the wall, ensuring everyone was in front of you until—

“The hell ya doin’?” Daryl drawled right beside your ear. You hadn’t realized he was still behind you. Snatching your arm from his grasp, you glared up at him. 

“Just getting in line.” You sneered, side-stepping around him just as Jenner announced he was ready for the next person. Only you and Daryl remained. For the briefest moment, you pondered if his thoughts were aligning with your own, his blue eyes locked on you even as his blood was pulled into the tube. 

You glanced around to find everyone else chattering about the facility and the things they had been informed of, not really concerned with the testing going on. 

Except Rick and Daryl. 

Fuck. 

You plopped down on the chair and presented your arm, wracking your brain for a way of asking for him to run a pregnancy test without alerting Rick to your plight. As you glanced up, you found the man in question saying something to Daryl but the redneck wasn’t listening, his eyes burning into your own. You felt your stomach churn, an uncomfortable tingling sensation prickling at your hands and feet. Your ears began to ring just as Dr. Jenner announced he was done. With a minute nod, you stood, albeit slowly but it wasn’t enough. The world tilted, littered with black dots. The wavering image of the floor was coming up to meet you. 

“None of us have eaten in days. She’s new so she could have gone longer than us without.” 

Consciousness was prodding at the edges of your mind, sounds and voices coming back all at once. As you peeled your eyes open, you waited for the pain from hitting the floor but it never came. In fact, you weren’t on the floor at all. No one was looking down at you. 

“There she is.” Jacqui smiled, patting your hand that was carefully held between her own. You offered the smallest of smiles back, your eyes flickering over to where your knees dangled off of something. 

A hand. 

You turned your head to find none other than Daryl looking down at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Um, thanks.” You mumbled, pressing your hand to your stomach. You still felt nauseous but the dizziness was ebbing away. “You can put me down now.”

“I gotcha.” He replied. His voice was low, almost soft. 

“No, really. I’m good.” You looked around, now extremely uncomfortable with all the concerned stares and hushed voices. “Please.” You added, just low enough for only him to hear. Daryl didn’t say anything but carefully lowered your feet to the floor, his arm remaining across the small of your back while you gathered your bearings. “Thank you.”

He merely hummed. While he was no longer touching you, you couldn’t help but notice that his hand was still hovering. 

“I think some food would be the next logical course of action.” Dr. Jenner gave a tight smile and led the way from the room. 

You followed on unsteady legs, but Daryl stayed close. You weren’t sure how you felt about that. 

You decided to forego the table, standing at the small counter in the kitchen area to pick at your pasta dish while everyone laughed and celebrated at the table. Even Daryl seemed to be in good spirits, choosing Glenn as the subject of his pestering. Everyone seemed so carefree in that moment, your thoughts wandered to your own family. How your father would have looked smiling brightly at that table and enjoying a good, hot meal in relative safety. 

You brushed away the tear that had escaped and began to poke at your food with your fork. Feeling eyes on you, a glance showed Daryl watching you with a bottle just in front of his lips. Heat began to burn in your cheeks and you looked away, forcing yourself to take a bite that you didn’t even really want, hungry as you were. When you dared to look again, he was smiling and partaking in the toasts to Jenner. 

“Here’s to you, doc. Booyah!” He shouted before taking a generous swig straight from the bottle. Glasses clinked and similar praises were given. You raised your water glass when the quiet doctor’s eyes drifted over to you. 

You could only hope that from where you stood, no one noticed you weren’t drinking. You could always blame it on the nausea but that might only fuel more suspicion. Lucky for you, Shane decided to steer the mood into the opposite direction and all celebrations died down quickly. 

The meal was finished in relative silence. Even Daryl was leaned back against the counter with the bottle still in his hand, his expression grim. 

Jenner showed everyone to the rest of the living area. Some rooms had beds while others had couches. There were two words, though, that seemed to halt everyone in their tracks: hot water. It was almost comical to watch the bodies scatter but you remained still, letting them go until only you remained in the hall. You could shower later. You needed a moment alone with the doctor. 

You found him at one of the control panels, a centrifuge with tubes of blood sitting inside. You were wringing your hands as you approached, steps so quiet that he didn’t seem to notice you. Now that you had the opportunity to speak with him, you were petrified. He could say one word that would change your life forever. 

“Hi, Dr. Jenner.”

The man was obviously startled, spinning in the chair to regard you with wide eyes. “Oh! Y/N, right?” You nodded, feeling your legs begin to tremble. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. A little. I guess.” You stumbled over words, twisting one hand within the other until it hurt. “That’s why—why I’m here, actually.”

“I thought as much.” He sighed, laying down his pen on a notepad with more care than necessary. 

You felt your stomach sink. “You—did?” He nodded, expression almost sympathetic. “If you know why I’m here, then that means—” Your knees all but buckled, hands steadying yourself against the console before the doctor stood and offered his chair. 

“I take it this wasn’t planned.” You shook your head, gaze as vacant as your mind felt in that moment. Dr. Jenner pulled up another chair and sat down in front of you. “May I ask, the father, is he alive?” You nodded absently. “Will you tell him?”

That gave you pause, cogs and wheels turning in overdrive  to make your brain function. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s my opinion,” Jenner tapped on the desk as if just trying to do anything other than focus too hard on the conversation, “these are the end times. It goes without saying that there are no blessings anymore. Nothing real to hope for anymore.” Words were failing you as you struggled to entertain his thoughts. “I can help you.”

You stopped breathing. Was he suggesting—No. No, you couldn’t possibly make a decision of that magnitude without Daryl. Regardless of how it came to be, the baby was just as much his as it was yours. He had to know. “I, um—thank you, Dr. Jenner. Really.” You stood, tripping over the chair when you stepped back. Jenner did rise from his seat to ensure you didn’t fall but promptly returned once you were able to remain upright. “I just—he has to know. I have to tell him.” You blurted another ‘thank you’ as you jogged from the room, miraculously making it to the final empty room before you allowed yourself to break down. 

Sliding down the wall, you let one hand rest on your stomach, now certain there was a little life there. The halls were quiet; anyone could hear. Your other hand covered your mouth, stifling your harsh sobs. 

You were pregnant. 

You were scared. 

You wanted your father. His advice, his embrace. You would have even taken his scolding just to have him there. What a cruel twist of fate, losing your family only to be gifted with a new one. 

And then there was Daryl. Rude, angry, impulsive. What were you thinking? Well, you weren’t thinking of babies, that was for sure. 

You needed to get yourself together, figure out what to do next. Deep breath through the nose, count to five. Out through the mouth, count to five. You continued, pushing yourself to your feet so you could start pacing the room. 

You knew you had to tell Daryl. But when? If you waited, anything could happen. You could be injured or you could lose the baby. Fuck, or both. If he didn’t know and found out that way, he’d be furious. You hadn’t experienced the full scope of his anger and truly hoped not to, especially when it came to anything regarding the baby. 

You couldn’t wait. You had to tell him. 

“Like a bandaid. Just rip it off.” You told yourself when you opened the door and stepped into the hall. Quickly, you realized that you didn’t know what room he was in. “Fuck.”

“Wha’re ya doin’?” 

Of course. You looked over your shoulder first, finding him leaning against the wall outside an open door. “Looking for you, actually.”

“Why?”

“Can we talk?” The smell of alcohol wafted into your nostrils within several feet of him. Distantly, you wondered if it was too early for your pregnancy to be responsible. His eyes drifted down your body and back up before he flattened against the wall to let you by. 

Daryl had chosen one of the rooms with a couch, leaving you instantly feeling guilty for having a bed in your own. You didn’t choose the room, it just happened to be the only one open when you came back from meeting with Jenner. Maybe you could offer it to him to smooth things over after you had talked. 

“Look, Daryl—” You spun to find him standing mere inches away, that unreadable expression firmly in place. “First of all, are you drunk?” You rubbed your lips together before pulling the bottom one between your teeth. You weren’t doing this if he was drunk.

“Nah. Take more than wine for that.”

Your eyes flitted over to the bottle of whiskey on the end table. “You mean, like that?” You pointed, raising an eyebrow when he actually turned to look. 

“Ain’t had any.” He sniffed and crossed his arms. “Yet. Whaddaya need?”

“Daryl, I went to—well, when I—” The food from earlier began threatening to make a reappearance, worsening as his eyes continued to narrow. “I need to sit down.” The hard look faded and gave way to concern, something you hadn’t seen him openly convey. He didn’t say anything, but you felt his hand on your back, urging you toward the couch. “I’m sorry.” Like a bandaid. Like a bandaid. Your brain chanted at you, even as you doubled over to put your head on your knees. 

“Jesus, woman. It ain’t that big’a deal.” His flippant tone made you yearn to smack him upside the head with one of the couch’s cushions until you sat up with something particularly snarky on the tip of your tongue, only to be met with him unbuckling his belt. Your mouth agape, you did little more than blink at him. “Finally,” he drawled, leaning down to cage you against the back of the couch with an arm on either side, “didn’t think ya’d ever shut up.”

You should have stopped him. You knew that. But the moment his mouth was on yours, you were a lost cause. All you could focus on was the warmth beneath your hands. Daryl ran hot, never failing to leave your blood boiling beneath your skin. In a world gone cold with death, it was a relief to feel something so alive. 

“Saw ya in the truck.” He all but purred, pressing open-mouthed kisses across your jaw. “Would’a handled it for ya if ya’d asked.” He used his knee to force your legs apart, leaving it pressed into the couch just in front of your center. 

“Didn’t—wanna do this again.” You breathed, arching up with your head back to grant him access to the full expanse of your throat. 

“Yeah, ya did.” Daryl grinned against your flesh, his warm breath causing you to shiver. “S’a itch ya need scratched, same as me.”

Goddamnit, he was right. At first, it was all about the pleasure. The man excelled at making you feel good. Soon enough, it had gone beyond that. It was a connection with another person. You’d begun to crave being touched, being wanted. You lusted for the rush of making him feel good. You could die at any given moment and had wanted to live while you could. 

You needed to tell him about the baby—and you would—but first, you needed this. You could revel in the feel of him without the looming dangers of being vulnerable in the outside world. 

Your hand splayed open against his chest, pushing him back enough to enable you to pull your shirt over your head. Your slender fingers began undoing the button of your jeans while his mouth danced across the newly exposed skin. Lifting your hips, you slid down your pants and used your feet to rid yourself of them completely before you desperately pushed his trousers down his legs. 

It was the first time you’d seen so much of his bare skin, wondering if he’d finally allow you to touch him without the barrier of clothing. “I want you.” The admission left your mouth in a breathless plea. Daryl kicked his pants away from his feet, never ceasing his onslaught against the swell of your breasts above your bra. 

“Yeah?” He teased while a large hand slid across your ribs and around to your back, skilled fingers snapping open the clasp of your bra. You shed the article without care and tossed it. His mouth and hands were on you instantly. Lips and tongue taunted one nipple while he palmed your other breast. The calloused skin over your sensitive peak had you arching into him, breathy moans escaping your parted lips with abandon. “Thought I’s a asshole?”

You whimpered when you felt the light graze of his teeth. “You’re still an asshole.” Knowledgeable fingers slid your panties aside to massage your clit with just the right amount of pressure. “But I still want you to fuck me. Like now.” Pushing him away, you rose to your feet and shed your last article of clothing, nearly groaning when he allowed you to push his underwear down his legs. He was kicking them aside when you pulled up on the bottom of his shirt. 

“No!” He barked, batting your hand away. You reeled back, caught off guard in the moment, eyes wide. While his expression was tense, shame and sadness overflowed from that beautiful blue. 

“Okay.” You whispered, stepping hesitantly back into his space. He flinched when you placed your hands on his sides, on top of his shirt. There was a story there, a deep wound that he wasn’t going to reveal anytime soon. It wasn’t a subject to be pushed right then. Your mouth hovered in front of his, the wine on his breath tempting you to slowly dip your tongue between his lips. It passed across his own and withdrew, enough to spur him onward. 

He kissed you hard, a dance of tongues and teeth. He was stepping backward while you walked him until the backs of his legs hit the couch. He fell onto it almost clumsily but his hands found your hips with ease as you climbed onto his lap. 

Your slick coated his cock with a drag of your hips, pulling a moan from him that you eagerly swallowed. “I fucking hate this.” You growled, repeating the action. 

“Think your pussy says somethin’ diff’rent.” He nipped at your bottom lip, his large hands roaming your torso, up up up to squeeze your breasts. You hissed at the hint of pain, grinding your hips down harder. “Grab a rubber from my bag.”

“Pull out.” You dismissed him quickly. If he objected, he didn’t voice it. What he did do was slide a hand down to your mound to circle your swollen clit with his thumb. “Damn you.” You tugged on his hair, earning a groan and a buck of his hips. Sliding your hips forward while lifting yourself slightly, the tip of him caught your entrance. Embarrassingly aroused, you were able to slide right down until your ass met his thighs. “Fuck, why does that have to feel so good?” The perfect stretch of accommodation had your cunt fluttering around him. 

“Cause s’mine, remember?” Daryl growled, pushing his hips up with a satisfied hiss. You did remember. That tight feeling in your chest stirred to life, but you shoved it down, rolling your body over him to allow pleasure to swallow you. You couldn’t think about his words, the deeper meaning that you subconsciously wished they held. You couldn’t think of the baby inside you that he didn’t know about yet. 

You shook your head and threw it back, riding him in earnest. Each bounce resulted in a slap of slick skin on skin, his cock hitting every nerve inside of you that had your toes curling within moments. When you looked at him, he was watching you with dark eyes, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in an attempt to stay quiet beyond the occasional grunt. His hands had traveled back to your hips to help lift and lower you, successfully spearing you onto him. 

Your own hands slid down his clothed chest before you leaned back and braced yourself on his thighs. The new feel of his skin had the pleasure knot twisting hard in your belly. 

“Goddamn.” You heard him growl, one hand abandoning your waist to splay open between your breasts. “Slow down, woman.” 

But you didn’t. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the good you were feeling. Your chest was growing tighter and tighter until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. With strangled moans and gasps that felt futile, you leaned forward and fisted your hands in his shirt. Your eager bounces melted into a desperate grind against him. 

You just wanted to feel good. 

“Y/N, stop!”

And you did. You fell forward and all but wailed against his chest, any pleasurable sensation dissipating entirely. Everything came crashing down all at once, leaving you cold and scared and alone, even with Daryl still very much inside of you. Your sobs continued, any thought of moving quickly dismissed. 

“I’m—sorry.” You finally managed through the tears, your voice small to even your own ears. Daryl had yet to move and now, you were terrified to, fearing the look he was sure to be sporting. Still, there was only so long you could remain that way. When your sobs quieted to hiccups, you began to pull away from him only for his arm to encircle your back. 

Daryl was careful and quiet when he slipped out of you, keeping you pressed against him even as he rose slightly. He caught you beneath your legs to keep you from falling when he twisted to lay you across the couch. You stayed as he had placed you, watching him grab up his pack and head into the bathroom without a word. The shower turned on a moment later. 

You waited a moment more and then sat up, testing your legs before starting to gather up your clothing. You had really fucked this up, once again letting carnal desires outweigh any form of logic. How could you even face him after that, let alone tell him you were pregnant? 

“Damnit.” You whispered, finishing up getting dressed before you reached for the doorknob. You hesitated, taking a step toward the bathroom before ultimately turning around and leaving the room. 

[thornsnvultures]

making time

Bucky Barnes x plus size!fem!Reader

summary: Bucky takes advantage of a slow work day to bend you over your desk.

cw: 1.1k words, 18+, Bucky has a filthy mouth, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, (spoiler: twist ending 👀, dad!bucky)

a/n: written for @buckybarnesevents connect 4 june-iverse. the prompt I used for this one was my #3 "co-workers". I seem to have a problem with not not putting a twist on the prompt lol sorry 😅 moodboard by me, divider by @/saradika

The click of your office door locking behind you sends a thrill down your spine. There's not much time. Minutes is all Bucky has to show you how much he needs you.

It's not often the two of you get time alone. Always busy, always making sure the Boss is happy. Your workload is constantly overflowing. But right now it's just you and him and he's not wasting any time.

You moan Bucky's name into his ear when he lifts you up and knocks the papers on your desk to the floor.

"Hope those weren't important," he says as he trails hot wet kisses down the column of your neck. You know he doesn't give a damn about any papers when he's tugging your shirt up and over your breasts, only lifting his mouth from your supple skin for a moment to remove the offending article.

His hands cover your breasts, cupping and squeezing them through the lace of your bra, the one he knows you wore just for him, just to tease him.

"Fuck, you're so perfect."

Bucky tugs back the lace to swirl his tongue around the your nipple, the bud tightening from the cool air and his hot tongue on your skin.

"Please," you whine as he rocks his bulge against your core. He's got you pinned to your desk under his weight and you can barely move but your hips move in time with his thrusts, desperate for him to fill you. "Bucky, I need you. Hurry," you tug at his hair when he bites at your breast, gasping from the pain and feeling your panties growing stickier with your need at the same time.

"I know, sweetheart. I know," his hands run down your sides giving your tummy a squeeze before tugging the hem of your skirt up your soft thighs until it's bunched up around your waist. He doesn't bother taking your soaked panties off all the way, his movements too hurried to care if they make it to the floor.

You're looking up at him as he stares down at your pussy, creamy and pulsing, waiting for him to spread you open.

"Such a pretty pussy," Bucky slides two thick fingers through your folds, up and down, lightly nudging your clit until you're gasping and twitching. With your legs trapped and pushed up towards your shoulders, Bucky pounds his fingers in deep. The gooey sound of your pussy alone nearly pushes you over, but it's the way Bucky twists his fingers, curling them up against the roof of your cunt that sends you over the edge.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let go for me. Need you dripping so you can take this fat cock."

It takes everything in you not to scream when you release over Bucky's hand. You've surely made a mess of your desk below you, but all you care about is having him inside you.

"Now, Bucky, please," you sob. "I need it."

"Shh, I got it right here for you, baby."

Bucky pops open his pants, releasing his cock from its confines. His pumps the shaft once, twice, a bead of precum pooling at the tip before tapping it on your clit. You jump from the light touch and a moment later Bucky's lining himself up with your quivering hole, pressing the bulbous tip in slowly.

"Fuck, look at you, sucking me in so good. Such a hungry little pussy. You gonna take it all, sweetheart?"

You can't speak, just frantically nodding, mouth open wide as Bucky slides in, inch by inch. By the time he's bottomed out he's leaning over you, pressing your legs deeper into your chest so he can kiss you, his hips grinding into you, making himself at home in your cunt. Because it is his home. He belongs there.

"Fuck me, Bucky. Please," you use what little air you have left in you to beg him to move, clawing at his still clothed shoulders.

He gives you one last kiss on your forehead before absolutely pummeling you with his cock. Harsh slaps filling the room as he slams into you, pushing you up your desk with every thrust.

Bucky holds you down, keeping you still with one hand while the other works your clit until you're at the edge again.

"This creamy little pussy is all mine," he growls. You frantically nod your head as his thumb circles your clit. "Mine to use whenever I want. Yeah?"

"Yes! Yes, all yours," you gasp.

"Then come for me. Come on my cock, baby."

Bucky quickly covers your mouth before you let out the shout you can't hold back any longer and you scream into his palm. You can feel him deep in your guts, pulsing and grinding his own shuddering release deep in your core.

Bucky pants above you, sweat sliding down his temple. You keen as he eases out of you, his seed following not long after in thick globs that trickle out of you and land on your desk. Another thing to clean, but you can't find it in you to care.

Your legs are still spread wider open on your desk, you're too gelatinous to move at the moment. Bucky bites his lip, taking in the sight of you used and sated as he grabs some tissues from a box on your desk and cleans you up. Bucky tosses the soiled tissues and helps you shimmy your skirt back into place before giving your ass a firm tap.

"Better?," Bucky asks as you sit up, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala bear.

"Mm-hmm," you sigh into his kiss as he cradles your head in his hands. "Just what I needed."

"I know when my baby's stressed."

You smile at Bucky and lean in for another kiss when someone bangs on your office door.

"Mom! Are you in there? I can't find dad and I want a corndog!"

You collapse against Bucky's chest and groan.

"Next time we're getting a hotel room," you rub your face into Bucky's solid chest.

"Mom!"

"You heard the Boss, you're on corndog duty," Bucky chuckles pointing his thumb towards the door.

"I'm coming!," you shout, rolling your eyes at Bucky before hopping off your desk, your legs still buckling under you.

Bucky follows you out of the room. Your son is gone, likely waiting impatiently for you in the kitchen. Bucky walks behind you, his hands curving around your hips as you go.

"This weekend. We'll send him off to Rebecca's, get a hotel room. No. That bed and breakfast you like with the hot tub," he smirks as he whispers into your ear. "Sound good? A little vacation from all this hard work?"

"Sounds fantastic," you sigh as Bucky presses a kiss to your jaw.

"Good," Bucky gives your ass another playful smack and pushes you towards the kitchen. "Go. I'll clean up your office so you can get some actual work done."

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes. I sense a raise coming your way," you tease and wink at him as you walk down the hall.

[bellamyblake]

Part 42of the single!dad Bellamy fic is posted! Here are the people who asked to be tagged (if you want to be removed please let me know): @pendragaryen, @takamurasposts, @star-sky-earth, @blakecholls, @theturquoiseoillady, @sarcasticcommentsetc, @peggysousfan, @whiteoleander, @chickens474; (I'm sorry for taking so long to update!)

(moodboard by @star-sky-earth​​​​):

Though she may not officially be a Factory one she knew where she belonged and her home had no station names or section numbers-it was a place of her own made up by the two boys she loved the most right now-Bellamy and Gus.

Despite the circumstances, that thought made her smile. 

When they crossed over, Clarke hurried to help Bellamy lean on the side of the wall and catch his breath. Now that his crutch was gone because of the guard, he was even more unstable on his feet and his left hand flailed for something to hold on to, so she gripped it tight and gave him a moment to calm himself down.

“This may just have been the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” she whispered in a quiet angry hiss and he smiled a little while trying to catch his breath but she felt his fingers grip her back.

“You know me...” he said through ragged breaths “Stupid is my middle name.”

“Oh, please-” she scoffed rolling her eyes at him and he finally looked up at her only for her to notice the bruise already blooming on his cheek right under his beautiful brown eye hiding his freckles away and she cups his cheek with her fingers making him wince. “Do you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Why did I not expect a different answer from you.” she sighs again and notices the way he’s cradling his side with his hand right where the guard kicked him so she grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it up touching the tender skin of his stomach and feeling his ribs, making him wince again. “I swear if you keep this up, your ribs will never not be broken.”

“It’s okay, I think he hit my stomach not...not the ribs.”

“That’s not good either, you can have internal bleeding.” it’s his turn to roll his eyes and shake his head stubbornly. 

“I’m going to be fine, let’s just go home before Gus freaks out we’re gone.” he pushes off the wall but he’s definitely unstable on his feet again and she can tell he overtired himself and pushed himself too much by coming with her tonight. They’re both thinking it but neither one of them is saying it as they refused to argue in the Factory station hallways.

He stubbornly tries to walk on his own but of course he staggers and she grabs his arm and throws it over her own shoulders, pushing her body to his side and slowly walking ahead. He tries to rush it in, probably worried about Gus but the pain must be severe because he stops out of nowhere and grips her side where his hand was wrapped around her waist in a quiet plea to give him a second.

“It shouldn’t be this bad.” Clarke huffs angrily when they stop again just a few feet from their hallway. 

“I had been off for almost two days.” he protest and she rolled her eyes again.

“Yes and then before that you worked for over fifteen hours non-stop and had a very hectic week.”

“It’s work.” he cuts off a little too harsh probably because of his pain “I have to do it, you know that.” he sounds tired but she senses the judgement in his voice and knows what he’s implying, so she stops abruptly and pulls away from him for a moment.

“And I don’t, is that what you’re saying?”

“Clarke-”

“I don’t have to go to Farm or Factory and help people, right?” she snaps and moves them to a quieter corner, even though there were barely any people walking around now that everyone was mostly home after crossing back to their homes.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” he tries to explain but it comes out too weak and it just confirms to her that this is exactly what he’s been thinking-she didn’t have to go out there and he did.

“But it’s what you’re thinking and it shows through all your actions.” she barks back, forgetting for a moment that she no longer held his arm as tightly, that she had mostly let him go and he was leaning on the metal wall with his other hand, barely keeping himself standing. 

He shakes his head and tries to take a step on his own but he almost falls in the process and she grips him tightly again, worry washing over her-why was he so bad? This didn’t make much sense to her, he was supposed to have rested at least a little and he still seemed absolutely wrecked as if he’s spent every possible minute working his ass off.

“The bench-” he nods at the nearest metal bench just a few feet from them and she slowly helps him there, sitting him down and watching as he struggled to take his breath. He looked so broken that it made her feel bad for aguing with him. She took his hand in hers and gripped it thightly in quiet support while he caught his breath.

“You should ask for more days off.” she suggested but he shook his head hard without looking at her, eyes still closed and his other hand gripping his bad leg. 

“If I do, will you stop going out there?” he asks raising his eyebrow at her when he finally manages to lean on the bench and breath a little better.

“You know I can’t-” she protests “Just like you.”

“It’s not the same.” he argues again, getting angrier once more which she senses and in turn that makes her own flame burn brighter. 

“Except that it is!” she raises her voice a little and he clenches his jaw at her, both because of her stubborness and also clearly because he was still in pain despite sitting down. She had to take care of it when they came back home, that’s if he allowed her to...knowing him he’d probably fight her. “Bellamy, people are hurt out there! I cannot just let them suffer when I could help them.”

“You know that you’re literally forbidden from doing so! Goddammit, Clarke you almost died last time, your friend died-”

“I don’t need you to remind me of it, I know what happened!” she snapped and he bowed his head down at her “I can’t believe that after all this time, you’re no different than any of those Alpha assholes including my mother, who try to control my life.”

“I’m not doing that!” he raised his voice, offended at her accusation, clearly unhappy that he was compared to the one person he knew she couldn’t stand being around, especially lately. “Don’t you get it, princess? I just worry!” her face softens at that but for just a moment before she remembers to stand her ground.

“And I worry about you too, but I don’t stop you from going to work!” she points out again and he rolls his eyes gripping his leg again which she didn’t miss.

“I don’t think you realize how dangerous this is” he stated seriously, trying to knock some sense into her “You could get caught and when you do, the chancellor won’t be as forgiving this time, Wells won’t be able to help you or your mom and dad. Or I.”

“I don’t need saving!” she points out “I know damn right what I’m doing.” she’s glad there aren’t any other people in the hallway or they’de have brought a lot of attenion on themselves “These people need my help, Bellamy. Just like you did when you were hurt! I can’t leave them behind, not right now, not after everything they’ve been through!”

“What about Gus and I?” he points out next, leaning on the bench once more, stretching out his leg and trying to relax it “Did you ever think about that?”

“What about it?” she asks confused and he looks a little hurt when she does.

“It’s no longer just you going off against your parents or the system, Clarke.” his voice goes desperate, sad in a way it hadn’t been before “When you came to live with us...for better or for worse we became a family.” she bows her head down in shame-he did have a point here. “Whatever is going on between us it’s new but...it’s important to me and Gus....Gus adores you and losing you after everything that has happened in the past year...that will destroy him, Clarke.”

She sighs, he had a point here, she truly hadn’t stopped to think about what this would mean for him or Gus and she suddenly felt herself guilty. She had promised the kid so many times she’d be there for him, that she’d take care of him if something happened to Bellamy but the first chance she got, she was ready to throw it all away.

“You’re right...” she admits, shoving her hands under her thighs and staring down at her feet “I didn’t think about that.” he doesn’t say anything to this, waits patiently as she closes her eyes and thinks it through “But you risk your life every day, despite your injuries, despite the fact that you should work half a day or not at all considering your physical state.”

“Clarke-”

“No, please hear me out. You and I both know that the way you’re pushing yourself now...it will worsen things long-term but you do it for Gus and for me.”�� he clenches his jaw, not being able to argue with that logic, not really, knowing that it’s not wrong “You can’t simply stay idly by.” she swallows hard “And I need you to understand that...I can’t either.” he sighs at that but grits his teeth and shakes his head but she’s faster than him this time and interrupts him before he can argue with her.

“I know you’re afraid, I do, Bellamy.” he looks into her eyes all sad and broken when she says it like this “I know it well because I worry about you too, every day. I wonder all the time if you’ll come back in one piece, if you’ll be fine-there’s no difference here between your fears for me and mine.”

“Except there is-” he argues feverntly again “You were so close to death, Clarke.” he whispers scaredly “So close.”

“And so were you. So ARE you, every day but Gus, I and your mom...we still let you go in the morning.” he sucks in a breath clearly disagreeing with her but refusing to argue with it and she knows why-a part of him agrees, he is slowly letting sink in the fact that she could possibly be right. “Can you understand that?” he bows down his head and grips his leg again, clearly in so much more pain than she ever supposed at first.

“I’m...trying to but you have to understand me too, Clarke-” he doesn’t look at her now, instead he focuses on the wall ahead, stubbornly refusing to meet her eyes and clenching his jaw “I lost Gina. I lost the mother of my child, my first love...” he stops for a second and finally looks at her “I can’t lose my second. I can’t go through this again.”

She feels bad for him in this moment, so awfully bad because she never thought that much about the point he was making now, she never realized what this actually means for him but now that he says it, now that he’s looking into her with his eyes big and broken and his hands shaking, his body breaking apart on a damn Factory bench, she feels horrible for making him go through this.

But then there’s also another side of things, a side that she just can’t let go of-maybe it was just who she was as a person but she couldn’t change it and if Bellamy really loved her then he’d understand that.

For a moment there they sit in silence and she covers his hand in hers, rubs her thumb over his calloused palm, made notice of the skin there, the way it broke on the outside, how harsh it felt, like sandpaper and how it swell on the inside, caused blisters that hardened. She takes her time to feel his fingers, his knuckles that had broken more than once-there was a big cut on his left palm which she had took notice of before after they fooled around for the first time and he pushed her to his chest, his hand ending up on her bare stomach, rubbing up and down. She got ticklish when she felt him there and at first she thought it was just his bruises but then she picked up his hand and looked at it, saw the long jagged scar inside and asked him how he got that.

“My first serious work injury when I was twelve.” he had said watching as she traced it with her fingers “I worked in the Factory mess hall. They made me open up cans of fish and meat for some of the councilmen that had come to have lunch there after a meeting. I was in a rush and my boss was pretty awful. He used to beat me and the other cooks with a stick on the hands when we weren’t fast enough-” Clarke had winced then but then clenched his hand in both of hers “I slided my hand when one of the can openers slipped through my fingers. There was so much blood I almost passed out.”

“Did you go to medbay? Get it taken care of?” he shook his head and smiled.

“Medbay?” he had said in disbelief “My mom stitched it up with a red thread and bandaged it in some clean rags. Put me to bed and kissed my forehead-that was it.”

She thought of their conversation then, wondering what would’ve happened if she had gotten a cut like that as a child-surely her mom would’ve freaked out, taken her to medbay or stitched her at home, probably give her a local anesthetic and meticiously wrap her wound in a gauze and bandages. Then put her to bed with her dad, play some cartoons for her. Her dad would pamper her for days after, kiss her forehead and fingers to take the pain away, maybe even carry her on a horseback for a while to lift her mood up.

Bellamy was hardened by life-he got hurt, he stitched it up somehow and then he moved on because that’s how life in Factory worked. There was no time for pampering, smoldering or spoiling. You took a breath, then another and you pushed-for your mother, for your child. He had no other choice, never knew anything else.

Until he lost Gina. And then despite it all he kept pushing but his world was crumbled. It got totally fucked up then, his life changed completely and then it did once more when he choose to protect Clarke from the bomb and got hurt instead-first he lost his soul and then with her, he lost his body. Or at least he lost what he used to have and his life inevitably changed making everything even harder. If he hadn’t done what he had, she wouldn’t be sitting here today with him. She’d be dead or at least as fucked up as he was.

“Bellamy,-” she begins again taking a deep breath and staring down at their joined hands “You know you’re the bravest person that I’ve ever met right?” she looks up at him and of course, in his typical Bellamy fashion, he seems confused, like what on earth are you talking about Clarke-Brave? Me? 

He shakes his head and shrugs it off just like she thought he would.

“You are.” she insists, squiezing his hand again “And I know that you get up every day and you chose to be braver no matter what challenge life throws at you.” he swallows hard but listens carefully to her “I do realize that what I’m asking from you is a lot-” she continues “To send me out there, to know that I could be caught but-” she takes in a breath and stares into his beautiful brown eyes, pleading “Bellamy, I have to do this.”

He snaps his head away as if she’s burned or slapped him and pulls his hand back from hers which she tries not to think too hard about-she was hurting him, of course he was acting like this.

She gives him a moment and watches as he squeezes the side of the bench with his fingers, grits his teeth and thinks hard over her words before he finally speaks out.

“You’re wrong, you know?” he whispers “I’m not brave.” he admits “I’m just scared.” she opens her mouth to protest but he is the one to interrupt her this time “But one thing is true-you can’t base relationships on fear and I don’t want to be some controlling ass like your mom or Wells.” Clarke’s face crumbles a little and she reaches for his hand again which he takes this time between both of his. 

“I don’t agree with this but I won’t try to stop you.” he finally says and Clarke smiles a little before scooting closer to him and reaching out to hug him. He hugs her back but weakly and she knows it’s not because he doesn’t want to but rather because he’s tired and in pain.

“I’ll come with you, though.” he adds next and she looks up confused “If you’re going to do this, you need someone to have your back. We need to be smart about it-you can’t go around jumping stations whenever you feel like it-someone will notice and you’ll get caught.” Clarke thinks over his words and knows that even if she wants to fight him about pushing himself even harder just to let her have what she needs, she won’t win “We’ll do it after I’m done with work. Harper will get you a fake ID, maybe even a few and I’ll be keeping watch while you work, how does that sound?”

“Okay.” she nods pursing her lips a little “But on one condition.”

“There’s no room for conditions, princess.” he points out, raising his eyebrow but she juts her chin and crosses her arms over her chest.

“I need you to promise that you’ll let me take care of your leg every day.” he shakes his head stubbornly at that but she squeezes his fingers once more “Every day, Bellamy.” she insists “In the morning before work or after. The weekends too.” he opens his mouth to argue but she shuts him off “I won’t take no for an answer-if you want to come with me, keep me safe then I need to find a way to make sure you’re safe out there too. You said it before when we first started this-it’s not a one-sided thing. We’re in this together.”

Bellamy keeps his eyes on her for a while and when he sees that she won’t back down, he finally relents, huffs like a particularly tired angry horse neighing after a hard argument with their master and then shows his agreement with a small barely visible nod.

Clarke smiles, takes it as a win and her heart screams that she just wants to hug him so so badly but she decides to pace herself-there was time for that at home, right now they just needed to get there.

They slowly get up and he lets her support him without much of a fuss-just like before he knew that he needed the crutch to get to Farm station-he was a stubborn idiot but not that stupid, he’d never let himself fall and put her in a situation where she wouldn’t know what to do or how to help him.

When they finally made it home, Gus jumped from the bed the moment they opened the door, even though his grandma was reading him his favorite Anne of Green Gables, only apparently the next part, which Bellamy had somehow managed to find in the black market and buy for the kid. 

“Dada!” he had squeaked and reached his little arms up to his dad, since he couldn’t run on his own with the frostbite. Bellamy let go of Clarke and limped to them under both Clarke and his mom’s scrutinizing glances. He noticed they exchanged a look that he knew perfectly well-they were communicating without words, typicall that was reserved for his and Clarke’s relationship but his mom and her had grown close and bonded ovre their mutual worry over him. 

“Hey, sweet boy.” Bellamy rubbed his back tiredly and kissed his head “Had a good time?” Gus mumbles a quiet "Mhwm" and pulls the back of Bellamy’s curls as they slowly come forward and Aurora stands abruptly when she notices Bellamy’s bad limp and how Clarke pulls the chair for him and gives him a stern look, insisting he sat down.

“Was everything okay?” she asks with worry and can cealrly see something was bothering Bellamy but he shook his head as Clarke went on to explain about Tor and his daughter, as well as the other girl she tried to help. Aurora listens intently but keeps her eyes on Bellamy, who clearly isn’t happy about this but focused on Gus, who was tired after dinner and the story, and was already starting to fall asleep in his arms. 

“It’s dangerous for you to go out there alone, Clarke.” Aurora comments when Clarke tells her about her plans for the upcoming days and in his mother’s eyes Bellamy can read the genuine worry, one she carried around for Gina when she was still alive.

“She won’t by alone.” he chimes in for the first time since Clarke started talking “I’ll go with there, so we’ll need you to take care of him while we’re gone.”

“You know I will, Bellamy, but that’s not the point-” Aurora keeps on, furrowing her eyebrows a little and reaching to squeeze his hand “This is dangerous. You could get caught.” she turns her head to Clarke who purses her lips but not in annoyance, more like because she was tired of having the same argument over and over again. 

“She won’t be.” Bellamy speaks up before Clarke can try and convince his mother “I won’t let that happen.”

“Bellamy-”

“That’s enough, mom. We’ve discussed it and I support Clarke even if I have my concerns as well.” that warms Clarke’s heart and her eyes grow wide upon hearing those words. He meets hers and gives her a light smile in reassurance before turning back to his mom “Will you be able to help with Gus or not?”

“Of course I will.” Aurora settles down, ultimately agreeing that this was their decision and not hers even if she disagreed with it-they were a family now, a unit, despite not being married. They lived together and took care of Gus themselves-she could advice them and worry about them but she couldn’t tell them what to do. 

“I should go now.” she stands up and leans over to run her fingers through Gus’ curls and then pick Bellamy’s chin up. “Please be careful at work, okay?” he nods and she kisses his forehead before giving Clarke a nod and leaving.

They talk for a while after, Clarke brings some food for them since they never had dinner and Bellamy nibbles on his bread and jerky, mostly leaving her more of the food they cut and put together in a mutual plate. They’ve figured out they liked eating like this-from one place, both of them pushing little cuts of the cheese or dry apples or bread to each other and arguing about the other eating them with insistant angry glances.

Gus grows tired in his arms but never trully falls asleep and when Clarke stands up and insists she took care of Bellamy’s leg like he promised he’d let her do, he perks up and rolls over on his dad’s lap so that he’s facing her.

“Can I watch?” he asks as Clarke pulls up Bellamy’s pant leg up and reveals the cut under his knee from the accident as well as his swollen joints. “Does it hurt, dada?” he shrugs it off and shakes his head.

“I’m good, baby boy.” he kisses his cheek and Gus squirms in his arms, always happy to have his dad’s love and attention. His own little foot was wrapped up in a good tight bandage that however needed to be changed as well.

“I have to fix your bandage too, Gus, okay?” she says and after taking off Bellamy’s boot and sock, she reaches for Gus’ one. The kid stares between his and dad’s legs and after a moment, looks up.

“Dada, we’re getting patched up at the same time.”

“Yes, we are son.” Bellamy kept running his hand over his curls softly “Doctor Clarke’s good, isn’t she?” Gus nods and gives him a light smile.

“One day I’ll be as good as her.”

“Of course you will be, sweet face.” Clarke assures when she undoes his bandage “Maybe even better than me.” Gus smiles and shakes his head in his typical shy fashion much like his father. 

“We can work together, right?” Gus asks with his tired sleepy voice while Clarke applies more of her frostburn cream over his leg and little toes. Bellamy couldn’t look at that for too long so he averted his eyes-it just hurt him too much to see his son in pain “We’ll have our medbay...and I’ll learn from you...and help you out.”

“Of course, baby boy.” Clarke says though her heart clenches at Gus’ words. She doubted the chancellor would consider opening another medbay, at least not anytime soon. 

“I’ll study fiwst...and then...I’ll pass my exams...and then we’ll hewp people together, wait?” Gus was growing more and more sleepy with every passing minute which was good for Clarke who was wrapping his foot up in a fresh bandage and reaching for the syrup they gave him to ease the pain and prevent inflammation. Bellamy helped tilt his head up and let her give him a few sips, urging the kid to swallow. 

After, his head rested on Bellamy’s chest, his eyes closed and he was fast asleep. Clarke brushed the curls from his forehead and kissed his cheek before focusing on Bellamy’s leg.

“I think it’s best I put him to bed and we move to our cot-it’ll be easier for me to take care of you there, okay?” Bellamy agrees but insists he is the one to put Gus to bed which gives Clarke enough time to get ready for bed and use the bathroom.

By the time she’s out Bellamy’s sitting in their cot, Gus is all tucked in and he’s trying to take off his overalls though unsuccessfully so Clarke rushes to help him out with it or she’s pretty sure he would’ve tripped over himself and ended up on the floor if she hasn’t.

“Okay, easy there, mister overalls.” she scolds him mildly and looks up to see his reaction except he’s pursing his lips and trying to swallow down what looks like yet another bout of pain. “Hey, what is it?” she asks and he opens his eyes briefly just to let her know the amount of pain he’s in which rushes her to her feet and with her gentle hands she pushes him down in a lying position. “Does it hurt too bad?”

“It’s fine.” he says through gritted teeth but she can see he’s holding his hip with his hand and squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s...I just need a moment that’s all.”

“I’ll go grab my supplies.” she tells him before moving up from the bed but he grips her wrist and pulls her back down next to him shaking his head stubbornly.

“No.” he says slowly before taking in a deep breath and meeting her eyes “No more ointments or bandages...no more compresses. I don’t want any of that.”

“Bellamy-”

“No offense to you, princess, but it doesn’t help.” he blurts sadly “This isn’t Gus’ frostbite, okay? It’s fucked up from inside and you know it.” Clarke sighs and bows her head down staring at his fingers wrapped around her wrist.

“Let me at least massage it, okay?” she insists “That’ll help relieve the pressure and numbness of your muscles.” he smirks a little at that and she knows he’s about to say something extremely dumb but she finds it in her heart that she doesn’t mind it.

“A massage, huh?” she rolls her eyes at him and scoffs.

“Or I could just go to bed and let you suffer all night long.”

“No, no-” he reaches up for her other hand too and pulls her closer to him “Please, I’ll take the massage.”

“I thought so.” she moves over the bed and starts on his bad leg, first up at his thigh then lowering it to his swollen knee and down to his ankle. It clearly hurts him a lot and though she still uses the anti-inflammatory cream she had for Gus despite his protests on the subject, she can tell she’s not doing much to ease his pain at least not at first. 

“So will you ever tell me?” she asks when she’s running her hands over his swollen ankle while he’s thrown his arm over his eyes, trying to control his breathing and pain.

“Tell you what?” he groans when she applies more pressure over the joing and shivers underneath her-his whole leg was fucked up. It was a miracle he put any weight on it at all.

“Why did the guard let us go when he saw your ID? Why your mom is so worried over your job that she comes in here always hand shaking, eyes wide as if she’s expecting not to find you back home at all?” Bellamy perks up a little from under his arm but just for a moment before he speaks.

“It’s not important.”

“Don’t give me that-” Clarke stops and lets her hands drop “I know you’re hiding something. You have been for a while now, I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were.” he tries staying calm but she can feel the newly-appeared tension in his voice. Still, he avoids her look.

“The food you bring in-all the fruit and vegitables, the bread and meat. The cake on Gus’ birthday too as well as the fact that you come home even more tired than before, your cough worsening-there is a reason for that.”

“Clarke-” he says it as a warning, trying to tell her not to prod. But Clake has never been one to ever let go easily.

“As hard as I know your job is, this is something else.” she crosses her arms over her chest “It’s different, I can tell.”

“You can now, can’t you?” he huffs and she reaches over to grab his arm and snap it from his face so she can finally, truly meet his eyes.

“I thought we were going to be honest with each other? Share everything?” his face grows serious at that but she keeps her eyes on him, her lips pursed and her hand on his wrist, refusing to let go, trying to let him know that he’d either talk to her or he can go to hell.

“I can’t.” he finally mumbles and she is about to roll off the bed and tell him she’ll sleep on the ground when he grips her fingers and pushes her back “You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“I can’t.” he whispers and his face crumbles “I literally am not allowed to tell you.” Clarke raises her eyebrow in confusion but doens’t move, settling back on the bed. “It’s classified.” he adds and her head starts working all the words out, figuring what he means.

It’s a while before she finally speaks up.

“You no longer work on Level 2 do you?” he shakes his head “They’ve transferred you?” he nods “And you telling me what you’re doing now will potentially put me in danger?”

“Yes.” he finally says and moves up on his elbows which clearly also causes him pain and it’s in that moment that she realizes most of his suffering now came from his back, not his leg and she wants to slap herself on the face-of course the problem was there-it was where he was hit the worst, it was why he couldn’t walk. She had to flip him over and take care of his back, check for swelling, but for now he was simply staring at her eyes big and pleading.

“I’m trying to protect you. All of you.” he insists tightening his grip on her fingers again “Please...princess, I beg for you to understand.”

She deflects at that for a short moment, thinking over his words before finally speaking up.

“How dangerous is it?” she asks and he falls back on the pillows “If your mom’s that worried, if your cough is this persistant, if your leg despite the rest gets bad so fast...then this is putting a serious strain on you.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. Mom’s exaggarating.” he tries to keep his voice steady but she shakes her head stubbornly once more.

“Be honest.” she insists “Please, Bellamy.” he keeps his eyes on her for a moment too long, then sighs and finally spekas up.

“It is dangerous.” he says and Clarke’s heart jumps in her throat “But no more than any other job in Factory.”

“That last part was a lie.” she calls him out on it and he shyly bows his head down and stares at his stomach “Why then? Couldn’t you have said no to whoever was offering you this?”

“Perhaps I could have but I didn’t want to.” he admits “I have to do this Clarke. Just like you have to go out there and help the people that are hurt.”

“For Gus?”

“Mostly, but for us all too. This gives me so much more than I could ever imagine-ration points are good, I can bring enough food on the table and put aside for him.” he explains carefully swaying on his elbows a little, almost falling back on the pillows but somehow he manages to keep himself up “You heard him tonight, Clarke. This is becoming his dream and even if it changes, even if he wants something else then this gives me the opportunity to give it to him.”

Clarke nods thinking over his words for a moment, trying to let it all sink in.

“You get it, right? Why I am doing this?” he asks when she doesn’t say anything for a while and reaches to tug her over his stomach, resting himself down on the pillows. She ends up on his chest, her head resting over his beating heart for just a moment before she forces herself to look up and meet his eyes. He lifts himself on the pillows so that he’s half-sitting and pulls her up a little. 

Her fingers ghost over his cheek, then her index finger moves to his lip and traces it, after which she goes up to the freckles on his nose, his eye which she forces him to close so she can move over his eyelid. She marvels at his beauty despite the pain and torture and sadness written all over it.

God, he was so much in all the senses that it made her whole being feel as if on fire-she’s never had that before, all of those things coming together at once to make her believe she can be more than a shell of an Alpha princess. And each and every one of those amazing qualities he possessed his bravery, his selflessness, his vulnerability and even his stubborness, often came crashing right through her heart-it’s as if he stumbled on her and went through her entire being like a wind she’s never felt but only heard of and he found his perfect place inside her, a little corner of his own that grew over the months to consume her whole.

And she couldn’t fight it.

Moreover she didn’t want to.

”Clarke?” he asks confused when she doesn’t answer his question but her fingers fall to his lips and allow him to meet her eyes while her index finger taps on his upper lip and her thumb brushes his chin.

“You know I love you, right?” she says instead and his eyes widen, his breath hitches “I should’ve said it earlier and I don’t know why I didn’t but-” she swallows hard and moves up, he follows swiftly as well, sitting straighter, allowing her legs to sneak around him and her feet to lock up on his back. She was sitting in him with his arms wrapped around her back and his face so close to hers, she swore she could count on every freckle “I do, Bellamy. I love you.”

“Clarke-” he chokes on it a little, it came out desperate, maybe even surprised and she smiles at him as her hand keeps moving over his face, her hands cupping his cheeks. God, she could never be tired of holding his face in her hands. Ever.

“It’s okay if you can’t say it now or if you do not feel the same way, I just had to tell you.” she blurts out when she realizes she totally sprung this on him “The life we’re living, it’s just...so dangerous and I didn’t want you to go out there and not know or think that I don’t....that I don’t love you, Bellamy because I do.”

“Clarke, will you listen to me-” he tries but she’s on a roll.

“You knocked me on my feet, you stubborn ass and goddammit I get angry all the time with you but I just-” she rests her forhead against him “God, I love you.”

He wraps his hands around her wrists and she feels his breath fan her neck with her eyes closed for the time being.

A beat. 

And then.

“I love you too, princess.” he says and it’s the softness of his voice that makes her open her eyes and stare into his brown ones, it’s the warmness that she was certain would’ve send her staggering on her feet had she been up.

“You don’t have to say it just because I did.” she blurts out again, trying to reassure him and he chuckles at her cuteness, catches her face in his big calloused ones and moves up to kiss her.

“I’m not.” he assures when he pulls back, leaving her breathless “It’s been on my mind for a while now, I just hadn’t had the guts to say it out loud, too afraid you’re not ready or that it’s not the right time but-” he rubs her cheek again and kisses her nose, her forehead, her cheeks, then her lips once more “I love you too.”

“You really do?” she sounds small, vulnerable.

He takes her hand and moves it over his heart that’s trumping loud and a little erratic but steady.

“I do.” she smiles and lets herself exhale a little against him, keeping her hand on his chest and resting her cheek on his other side at the crook of his neck. He rests his back against the pillows once more probably because he got tired of keeping up and she feels him relax a little and stroke her hair inbetween the soft kisses he gave her on her forehead and lower, catching her lips now and then-it’s soft and slow for now but she can feel the bulge in his boxers that presses against her center and makes her hot and more than a little wet.

For now they’re taking their time, though, needing to just be here in this moment. 

“Did you really question me?” he pats her nose with his index finger as she adjusts herself on his lap and moves up a little before going back down and eliciting a hiss from his as his dick grows harder against her and his hand grips hers over his heart.

“I’m sorry.” she whispers looking back up at him innocently. “I just...I’m not sure I’ve ever had someone tell me this.” he cocks his eyebrow at her “That they love me. Well...other than my parents of course.”

“Well here I am now too.” he catches her lips again and this time it’s her who groans in his mouth.

“Here you are.” she whispers when his hand moves to stroke her face and then sneaks down to her chest and then lower to her left boob which she carefully squeezes over her shirt making her back arch. “I love the way it sounds.” she gasps against his neck when she moves up and down again, tesing his cock that she can tell is painfully hard now.

“What is that?” he asks between kisses allowing her to move up a little and grant him better access-his lips trail to her neck and suck on her pulse point, making her jab her fingernails in his arm as a way of trying to ground herself.

She keeps grinding against him as a small way of retaliation while his other hand sneaks under her shirt and takes her boob in, softly kneading on it like a kitten as his fingers patted over her sensitive nipple and hardened it.

“You saying you love me.” she says between breaths as the wetness pools more and more in her panties, embarrassingly drenching her pjs that was actually his ones only cut shorter by herself the other day. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks sliding his other hand in there and sneaking through the blond curls of her cunt until he reaches her chenter “Goddammit, Clarke, you’re so wet.” he whispers and she drips over his fingers before he’s even fully entered her. 

He starts pumping her a little and she gasps trying to keep her voice quiet knowing that Gus, despite the syrup that would knock him out for the night, could still wake up. Bellamy must read her thoughts because he briefly stops, looks behind him and checks on the kid before pulling in the small curtain made of old canvas Aurora brought to separate their beds and give them some semblance of privacy.

“Then all I can do is keep saying it, shouldn’t I?” he asks when he brings his attention back to her and starts sneaking his hand back in her panties while his other never left her breast. She had noticed he liked that-teasing her boobs, licking them, sucking on them, kissing them-it brought him immeasurable joy. 

Just before he actually mananges to get back in, he grabs his wrist and pulls it out and a little away from him, meeting his confused expression.

“No more of this-” she says not leaving room for discussion “I want you-” her hand goes down to his bulge and covers it, making him suck his breath in “In me, okay?”

“Clarke-” he shakes his head “We can’t.”

“Yes, we can.” she insists running her palm up and down his still hidden by the boxers cock “You’ll pull out before you-” she blushes at that and he smirks a little “I’ll find some of that tea that I know Factory women use.”

“That’s not exactly reliable.” he argues “We can’t get you pregant.” he says seriously “If you sneaking around doesn’t get you caught or punished, then this surely will and I won’t risk it.” she knows he’s right-if by any chance she got pregnant they won’t have access to any medical falicity, she had no way of getting an abortion, at least not one that won’t endanger her life. She knew the statistics even if nobody talked about them-at least twenty percent of the deaths in Factory and Farm each year came from women trying to get an abortion through various unsafe ways and it always made her furious. While Alpha had condoms, something she was sure Bellamy had probably never seen in his life even if he surely must’ve heard of it, as well as birth control pills, Factory, Farm and Arrow had nothing but old women’s tales, bad teas that didn’t work or worked only halfways and their own desperate ways of doing this just so they’re not floated.

“I won’t get pregnant.”

“You don’t know that.” he insists though he gasps again when she squeezes his dick through the thin paper boxers “Clarke, fuck I-” she cups his cheek again with her other hand and tilts his head up.

“We can do this.” she insists “I know we can and Bellamy, I-” she digs her nails in his cheek a little as she grinds on him some more, purposedly lifting herself up and then lowering her center right on his hard cock, looking for release “I really need you.”

His hands slide from her boob and her middle to her waist and he grips her hard there before he speaks, through ragged breaths.

“Are you sure?” he asks “Are you really sure you want this?” she smiles at that, always the gentleman, always asking her if she’s okay with anything, before his fingers ghost over her cunt or her nipple, before she wraps her hand around his cock even though it was her idea to jerk him off or before his lips taste her wetness as he eats her out-always, always asking god-

It was too much, she couldn’t handle the softness that was this man.

“I’m sure.” she whispers staring into his eyes “Take me.” she insists.

“You’re no one’s to take-” he insists as he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear “You’re someone to love.” he kisses the corner of her lips and waits until she gives him another small nod before he flips them over.

She’s honestly not sure where he gets the strength to do that, considering how bad his back and leg were and she doesn’t miss the way he winces at the sharp movement but he ignores it for the sake of this, for the sake of them.

He grabs the hem of her shirt, that was his shirt really and pulls it off so hard she hears the seams protest at the movement and she can’t help but chuckle at it. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” she jokes when he takes a moment to just stare at her bare chest and marvel at her boobs.

“Can’t blame me now, can you?” he asks when he moves down to kiss her again and tuck at her PJs and panties with one swift movement. She wraps her arms around his middle again, trying to be mindful of his back because he does tense when her heel ends up near what she can feel is one of the bigger scars from the bomb but there’s nothing she can do to ease his pain.

“Are you....are you okay?” she asks him when he pulls away for a second and is about to move to give some attention to her other boob and he gives her a confused look “Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine.” he promises and moves over to kiss her forehead in reassurance while her hands ghost over his face and pull his lips to her once more-she swore she couldn’t get enough of him right now and she only grew hotter, dripping over the sheets and rubbing against him impatiently. 

“Who’s eager now?” he jokes when he rubs against her to tease her a little and she gasps.

“You have too many clothes.” she pulls at his shirt and she’s almost halfway through when he grips her wrist.

“Are you sure you want to see this?” the question confuses her and for a moment she has absolutely no idea what he’s talking about until he grabs her hand and slides it over his front and then back where his scars were “This could ruin the mood.” her heart drops at that and her eyes widen.

He was ashamed of himself, of his body, she realized and it hit her like a train. It made all the sense to her now-why before he kept his shirt on when they fooled around, he wouldn’t let her hands sneak to his back or leg, how he was too shy and embarrassed when she was blowing him, her hands and face too close to the scar on his leg and why he finished so fast, almost making her wonder if she did something wrong. 

God no, did he really think that he was ugly? That he could ruin something with his scars?

“Please tell me you’re kidding?” she asks then, letting herself fall on the pillow for a moment breathing heavily as he kept hovering over her, resting on his strong arms. “Bellamy, this is nothing to be ashamed of.” she insists and drops her feet lower so she could put her hand over his scars and cover them with her palm. 

“It’s not exactly sexy.” he says and she can hear his voice tremble.

“Yes it is.” she insists and he shakes his head clearly in his head for the moment so she picks his face and forces him to meet her eyes “It is. They’re part of you and if you’re making me embarrassingly wet then so are they, got it?” he chuckles at that and she tugs at his shirt “Now take this off and fuck me before I have to do it myself.” 

“So bossy.” he laughs a little, quietly so that Gus doesn’t hear them and lets her pull it off. She knows the conversation’s not over, that they’ll go through that later when they’re done but for now they were both hot and crazy for each other and needed to be together, truly together, for the first time.

She blushes at the sight of his chest as much as he had when he saw her but it is when she pulls his boxers down and sees how hard he is that she unvoluntarily spreads her legs even more and makes him chuckle again a little before she nudges him with her hands on his back, urging him to come to her.

He maneuvers himself closer and she can feel the tip of his cock at her center and yet again, right before he enters her, he looks into her eyes and asks once more. She gives him a small nod and finally he pushes in and Clarke gasps out louder than she thought she would, making him scold her lightly as he ran his hand down her forehead and stroke her face.

“Shh, it’s okay.” he whispers as he plasters kisses all over her face. Clearly he wasn’t her first one but as embarrasing as it was for her to admit, she hasn’t been with a boy in a while, mostly fooling around with girls back in Alpha during her residency and then just one boy before in her high school days, who was unfortunately not good at this. 

The thing was, Bellamy was big, she knew that, it was one of the reasons why she got so wet just thinking about having him in her and he stretched her out in a way that was both a little painful and amazing at the same time.

It was too much, god, it was so much she could probably come just from having him in her like this.

He waits until she adjusts to him, keeps giving her small reassurances that made her heart fill with even more love-he was so gentle, so soft but she could feel his hips tremble with anticipation and she knew this was too much for him especially for someone with a very fucked up back and a barely working leg, so she wraps herself around his waist once more and puts her hands on his shoulders.

“You can...you can move now” she tells him and he smiles moving himself up from the crook of her neck and pulling away a little before slamming into her slowly. He is still gentle, still considerate of it all but soon enough it’s too much and she just needs him to be faster so she urges him with her heels pressing into his back and he is pulling in and out faster inbetween kissing her and teasing her breasts.

His hands roam freely everywhere, her chest, her nipple, her stomach-he knew that was her soft spot so he ran his calloused fingers there for a bit making her shudder with lust and want before sneaking his hand behind her back and pulling her up, closer to him as he fucked into her fast and hard. She closed her eyes and rest her chin on his shoulder, wrapped herself entirely on him, her hands locked on his back as well as her legs.

They both knew they wouldn’t last long but he was adamant at making sure she comes first, so he carefully sneaks his hand down to her clit and runs his rough finger over it making her scream a little.

“Shhh, you’ll wake him!” Bellamy stops and moves his hand away from her when they wait for Gus, who they hear move in bed, settle down. 

“Sorry, shit...sorry, it’s just...you’re too much.”

“Oh, am I?” he asks with a smirk when he pulls at the curtain to check on Gus and thankfully finds that the kid just rolled over on his stomach like he loved sleeping and had his mouth open, drooling on the pillow. “He’s all good.” Bellamy promises when his hand moves back down to her boob which he was holding a moment before and cups it gently as he moves down and rubs her nose against his “Now lets get you good too, princess.”

She nods and watches as he moves his hand lower over her stomach and down to her crotch-it’s a beautiful sight, seeing him pull out of her and then back in, she finds herself mesmerized by the moment until he whispers in her ear.

“I love you, Clarke.” he says and she meets his eyes once more smiling as she cups his cheek.

“I love you too, Bellamy.” his eyes are so soft that she’s sure she can come from the look of his alone but it is his thumb pushing over the most sensitive parts of her that gets her done and she comes so hard she drags her nails over his back to ground herself and buries her head in his chest, trying to stifle her screams.

She coats his cock in so much come that she’s surprised by herself and it’s not until he strokes her head and shushes her that she realizes she had actually bit his arm as a way of grounding herself and when she pulls away she sees the imprint of her teeth over the skin on his shoulder.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing.” he whispers “And it’s better than waking a four year old.” he kisses the corner of her lip as she slides down on the pillows “I need to ...I have to cum too.” he whispers and she realizes how strained his face seemed just then, feels bad that she ignored him up until that moment and scolds herself mentally for it.

She gives him a nod and moves up a few more time times, pushes into her just to get himself there before he pulls out, grips his cock and spills all over her stomach.

The sight makes her cunt convulse once more and she realizes she’s dripped so much on the sheets she’s made a total mess of them but she finds out she doesn’t mind even if she’s a little shy and embarrassed about it.

“Hey...it’s okay.” he promises, pulling her over his chest for a brief kiss while she stares at his now soft cock and the cum he’s spilled on her. This could’ve happened inside her, she thinks, in another life, this could be the start of something new. “I’ll take care of this.” he promises and she watches him stand up and hobble to the bathroom.

She furrows her eyebrows when she realizes what a strain this is for him and his back and how selfish she had been but she’s still so spent and soft and vulnerable that when he comes back and wipes her stomach clean, she can’t help but inch closer to him. He chuckles and picks her up in his arms only halfway so he could kiss her forehead.

“I have to change the sheets if we want to sleep in a clean bed.” he rubs his nose against hers “Okay, princess?”

“Mwhm.” she mumbles but grips his shirt that she unhappily finds he put back on with her fingers.

“You’re totally spent, aren’t you?” he asks a little too smug and she groans “Did I take all your strenght away?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Bellamy Blake, I was already pretty tired from saving all those lives.” he laughs quietly and kisses her again before pulling back.

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself, princess.” she doesn’t know how he manages to pull her up and move her to what is a metal chair by the table, she just realizes she slumps there and starts dozing off while he shuffles behind her with the sheets and pillows. 

When he picks her up again she doesn’t miss the painful groan that leaves his lips or how bad he’s limping.

“Put me down!” she tries as she pats his chest weakly “I can walk.” he chuckles at that as he puts her down and cradles her face.

“Not to sound so smug but-” he tucks the blankets over her legs “I kind of doubt that, princess.” she grunts at that but lets him tuck her in and when he slides besides her she immideatelly snuggles into his chest. He chuckles a little again but pushes her to him and allows her to rest her head over his beating heart. 

He’s tired and in pain, that much she can tell considering how tense his body is underneath her so she makes herself a promise that tomorrow, the first thing she’ll do is take care of his back and leg, before he has to go to work or feed Gus or even go out there to grab them rations.

She feels his hand rub up and down her back and every now and then he’d kiss the top of her head or tuck a strand of hair away. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of her and she understood this because her hands never really left his body either.

Clarke’s pretty sure that if they weren’t as tired, she could sneak her hand down his now fresh pair of boxers and get them going once more. It was enough to just be lying on his rigid chest to get her center pooling and he must feel this, he must know because he leans down to kiss her and it’s hot, wet, messy and sleepy.

“Princess-”  he warns a little when they move sideways, looking in each other’s eyes and her hand teases the hair on his stomach before desperately reaching for the hem of his boxers. He grabs her wrist and shakes his head “We can take it easy, you know? The one thing we have is time.” she groans unhappy, protesting quietly at that and he smiles cupping her cheek again.

“I want you in me.” she begs and he rubs his nose against her.

“I was just in you a moment ago, Clarke.”

“Again.” she whines and she knows that she does sound like Gus, a kid who desperately asks for more candy or to play just a little longer or not to go to bed so early and Bellamy can’t say he minds that side of her.

He’s never been that wanted before. Maybe with Gina when they were still in their honeymoon phrase but after...after they just had so many things going on that sex was a one time occurance every other month-they were both so tired and broken, busy to make sure she’s okay or that Gus is fine and that they had enough to eat. Problems overwhelmed them for the time being. He often thought if later the more the kid grow, the more time they’d have for themselves but he never got to know, not really. He lost her too soon. 

He sighs, buries his nose in her hair and breaths her in-did he really deserve all this? Did he deserve to be loved?

He scolded himself mentally and let her hand go, allowing her to reach down and tug at his boxers, grab his already half hard dick. He didn’t need much-just to have her nipples rub against his chest or her lips kissing his neck or her fingers...god her fingers-

He was like a horny teenager. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he’s been that hot even when he was seventeen. Back then he had too many things to worry about as well. 

He lets her pump him a few times and when he’s hard enough, he easily spreads her legs and pushes in her. He manages a few slow thursts but that’s pretty much it-they were once again together.

He tucks her in the crook of his neck and feels her give him a small gentle kiss there while her hands roamed up and down his still bruised sides.

“You haven’t gained any weight.” she comments and he smiles-Clarke, always the nurturor, always the carer “And you hurt.”

“It’s bearable.” he whispers “With you and Gus here, I can take on anything.”

“I wish you didn’t have to.” she mumbles and he knows she’s on the verge of sleep “I wish you were happy.”

“I am.” he insists and she looks up at him with tired eyes making him so soft for her that he can’t help himself and just pushes her closer to his chest “I have everything I could ever ask for.” he promises and kisses her forehead one last time “Now sleep, princess.” she tucks her head under his chin and he smiles at how affectionate she was in this moment. She was so small in his arms yet she fit so perfectly.

If someone had told him that he’ll fall in love again after Gina, he’d have never believed them-frankly, he had no idea how he even survived and if he had to be completely honest, he wasn’t sure what happiness truly felt like but he knew he had experienced it at least a few times-first when he married Gina, then when he held Gus in his arms for the first time and now...

Now he was pretty sure was the third time if only because his heart was bursting with joy, he felt light and he just couldn’t, even when he knew he was already falling asleep, stop smiling. 

[8makes1newworld]

A part two as requested. @last-words-ofashootingstar was responsible for about ninety percent of this happening, her big brain deserves the credit and her artistic touch with the moodboard she made above. Cameo appearances of other fandom figures also.

1k plus words

Slowly you awoke to the sunlight streaming through your open window. Unable to make out your surroundings while you sat up and looked around yourself. Upon realizing you were in your own room you began to relax.

Still an ominous feeling cloaked across your body as you tried to piece together the night before. Barely recalling any details of the excursion to the beach the previous night before.

You groaned as you got your tired body out of bed. A small scar on your finger throbbed, drawing your attention and prompting you to rack your brain as to when you had injured your finger.

“Shit!” You raced to the closet to grab some clothes so that you could go take the driver's test that you had been looking forward to for some time.

“y/n it's time to go! What's taking so long?” Soyeon, your workaholic mother knocked at the door of your room and nearly scared you witless.

“Almost there!” You called out while frantically thumbing through your clothes. About to have a breakdown when you couldn't find your favorite cozy Hello Kitty hoodie, your favorite shirt and your favorite pair of jeans were somehow missing as well.

“Damn it! Are they all in the laundry basket?!” You whined dramatically and donned a few random pieces of clothes, mismatched but time was not on your side presently to complain.

“y/n give me back my Converses or I'll be assisting you with your test!” Your big brother Beomgyu was beating on your door. Nearly falling into you when you opened it suddenly.

“Sheesh, is it you who's holding my clothes hostage as leverage? Give them up now! I don't have your shoes!” You put your hands on your hips and scowled at him.

Beomgyu dramatically shook his head. “I don't have any of your smelly clothes!”

“Uh huh, right.” You approached him with murder in your eyes.

“It's okay you can keep my shoes! Just let me live!” He raced down the hallway away from you. Thoroughly intimidated by you.

You sighed defeatedly and turned to go to the bathroom, working on your hygiene before hurrying outside to meet up with your parents who were waiting for you.

“Is everything okay, y/n?” Your father Chan asked, who always seemed aware when you weren't feeling yourself caused you to look up at him in surprise.

“She seems to have had too much time on her phone, sleeping late again.” Soyeon muttered quaintly and got into the driver's side of the car.

“Can't I speak for myself…” You rolled your eyes and sat down in the backseat of the car, buckling up and pretending to ignore your mother.

“You know you can always come to me if you need to talk? I’m always here for you, pumpkin.” Chan looked through your open window at you and gazed at you with genuine concern.

“Sure I do.” You replied softly, looking at him in earnest. Really you didn't know what you could talk about with him. First you felt you had went out last night. The place that you had been forbidden to go to. Yet your memories were fleeting and you had no idea how you had gotten back into your own bed.

With that Soyeon drove away. You gazed out the window and started to lose yourself in your head. Tuning out your big brother in the front seat talking with your mom and playing a noisy game on his phone.

‘This is going to be a long day…’ You thought to yourself and spaced out.

🌌

Hours later you were exhausted, fortunately though you were to secure a pass on your driver's test. The only high point of the day you felt. Now you were meandering through grocery store aisles to pick up ingredients for dinner.

You were turning around after picking up a few packages of frozen vegetables. Though to your horror you smacked right into a person's chest.

“Oh I'm sorry- wait…” You gasp as your eyes traversed the face of the male who was looking down at you. His face handsome and familiar at the same time.

“You're wearing…” You stepped back quickly and looked at the Hello Kitty hoodie that he was wearing. Identical to the one that you were missing.

“Me? Yes someone special to me was kind enough to lend it to me.” The stranger replied with a deep voice that seemed to wash over every cell of your body with the purpose of enchantment.

“Ah right…” You looked down at his jeans. The wash uncannily similar to yours, looking as though they fit him like capris.

You blinked when your eyes reached his shoes. The same kind of converse that Beomgyu wore.

“Uh… you're dressed well… I mean I have the same hoodie somewhere…” You shifted nervously. The elegant and graceful aura that blanketed him seemed to not quite match the clothes that he wore.

“Is that so? The clothes are nice. I know they look good on you.” He gave a charming smile. Darkness in his eyes that sparked something inside of you. A feeling of familiarity in your gut that you just couldn't put your finger on.

“Uh … nice to meet you… I should be going…” You mumbled awkwardly and clutched your groceries against yourself as if they could help you with recharging your social battery.

“Ah, what a shame I enjoyed the chat. I'm Seonghwa, I want you to know that because I believe fate will allow us to continue meeting.” A smile twitched at the corners of Seonghwa's lips.

“I don't believe in fate… Seonghwa.” You shook your head and tried to steady your breathing, making your getaway because you didn't trust him.

He watched you leave with a cocksure smile. Finding you amusing and adorable at the same time just like the first time that he met you.

'You don't have to believe in fate. But I do'

🌌

(Gimme love, gimme love, gimme love)

Oh, please now

Do this just for me, yeah

I don't ask for much

Gimme love, gimme love, gimme love, baby

(Gimme love, gimme love, gimme love)

You sang along with your playlist as you gazed out at dusk falling outside your window. The song by Sia seemed to only bring the feelings that you'd pushed down to only surface at times like now. When you were alone and no one could see you wishing to be able to venture out for a world that was larger than what you experienced, to be able to find love.

With a wistful sigh you reminded yourself that it was all fairytales. That it was safer to abide by the cynicism of your mind.

Your stomach grumbled and interrupted your melancholic contemplations. Still you ignored it, deciding to tune into YouTube instead and watch an old episode of Good Mythical Morning.

Seonghwa however was lurking outside, wanting to make sure that you were taking care of yourself. He frowns when he sees that you weren't going to get food. Deciding instead to take matters into his own hands.

At the end of the episode you heard a slapping sound against the window. Two slaps to be exact. Hesitantly you approached the window, looking at the sill in puzzlement when you see two fish neatly aligned with each other.

“Did a gull drop these?” You asked yourself out loud as if the answer would come to you from our of the void.

You peeked outside your window, missing the siren hiding in the overgrown hedge bushes that grew near your window.

Honestly you didn't know what to do with the fish that were so neatly presented before you as if it were a gift.

“I suppose I could cook these at a high enough temperature to kill the bacteria…” You trailed off thoughtfully and picked up the seafood.

Meanwhile Seonghwa was wincing in confusion, a pained grimace on his face as he shook his head.

Why ruin the fish by cooking them?

He didn't understand. But as long as you managed to eat them he was happy. Once you left the window he slipped off to go to the ocean. A place that he could go to make his plans. Plans that were necessary because he physically couldn't stay away from you for long at a time.

[quit-125]

Moodboard💗

Congratulations, @shuuuuush, for getting over 100 followers I'm so proud of you!!🥳

This fic honestly gives me enchanted by taylor Swift vibes😭😅

This is a special fic jst for you and i hope you like it!🥰

Word count: i honestly dont know💀

Paragraphs:31?

Warnings:Strong language, detailed kissing(is that even a thing?😭)

(Not using Y/N)!

Marly and Kenny met in New york, and they instantly caught feelings for each other,but what troubles will they have to face? Will they end up together? Or will someone try to get in between them?

Taylor-your best friend

Kenny- Stranger

to lover

Aj- your friend

Niko-your friend

Chunkz-Your friend

Sharky-your friend

The first time i laid eyes on you-Kenny

Chapter 1 out of 5🫶🏻

I felt the warm water hitting my body as i washed my hair. I truly needed a warm shower after a long day. I grabbed a dry towel and stepped out of the shower. I dried my hair and body and put on my clothes. Just before i could lay down, i got a call from taylor."Marly? Where the hell are you? I asked you to come over 20 minutes ago. Did you seriously forget?" Said taylor. "Oh shit im so sorry. I'll be there soon!"i said. "Yeah.. okay." taylor said. I grabbed my keys and unlocked my front door.

Kennys POV:

"Hey guys! Today we'll see who can make the most money in New york in just 24 hours!" Said niko. I honestly hated these challenges. We had to do stupid things for money. But this time it wasn't as bad since New york was absolutely beautiful! I was looking forward to spending time here. "Kenny?Bro?You good?" I heard aj say. "What? Oh yeah, im good." I said. "Yeah, if you say so." Said aj. There we're 2 teams, me,Aj and niko. Chunkz and sharky. Since we had more people, Chunkz and sharky got a headstart. As i walked through the streets of New York, i could hear chatter and laughter all around me. Most of it was from my friends. I didn't like to get involved in many conversations,im more of a quiet person. Dont get me wrong,i love hanging out with my friends, of course, but sometimes i prefer to be lost in my own thoughts.

Marlys POV:

I was in a hurry. i didn't want Taylor to get even more mad at me..well, that's what i thought. I was about to cross the road when i saw 3 extremely familiar boys. "No fucking way..." i whispered to myself. It was no other than the beta squad! And kenny was there.. he was my BIGGEST crush, and i was his #1 fan...well, that's what i think, at least. I just stopped and stared at Kenny, and i couldn't help but blush. Just before i was going to talk to them, i saw kenny looking at me, and we made eye contact. My stomach was filled with butterflies. i gave an awkward smile and waved as he did the same. I felt like a complete idiot. I digged my face into my hands in embarrassment.

Kennys POV:

I could feel a pair of eyes looking at me, i looked to my left to see the most beautiful girl ever,my heart was beating like crazy. I smiled at her, and we made eye contact. She was gorgeous.. We instantly clicked.

Marlys POV:

I saw them crossing the road, so i thought it was a perfect opportunity to go talk to them. They were getting closer and closer,multiple thoughts ran threw my head. i stood there, not knowing what to do as he approached me.

Kennys POV:

i got closer and closer towards her as she just stood there. "Hey, my name is kenny. What about yours?" That was so stupid of me..i said under my breath. "Huh? What did you say?" She said. "Oh! Nothing, dont worry."i said. "Okay! Uhm, well, my name is marly. Well, im a huge fan of you three and the rest, by the way!" said Marly.

It was even better that she was a fan.The rest of the beta squad introduced themselves to her,im so glad that she at least knows me."Ay Kennys got a gyal," i heard aj say. I gave him an annoyed look. "She's not my "gyal, " i said. There was awkward silence for a few seconds,i could feel the tension between us. "So, uhm, could i get ur number or something?" I asked her. "Yeah, sure, of course!" I gave her a smile, and we exchanged numbers. "I'll call you later today?" I said. I honestly was so happy on the inside that she actually gave me her number. Most girls dont. "Sure! I'll see you around, " I heard her say. "This is great content," said niko. "Bro, cut it out," i told him.

Time skip

Marlys POV:

I just came back from taylors house, i told her everything that happened on the way there. I was honestly shocked that Kenny wanted my number! I flopped onto my bed and put on my headphones.Maybe i was wrong.. What if he doesn't actually like me?What if he's just joking? I thought to myself. I sighed and picked up my phone. Just then, i got a message from kenny.

Kenny:Hey, Marly! Do you maybe wanna hang out tomorrow if you're free?

Marly: sure!❤️

Kenny:Great! I'll pick you up tomorrow at 5pm? We can go watch a movie together if you'd like?

Marly: Okay, sounds amazing!

Kenny: i have to go, but I'll talk to you later, marly! :)

Marly: alright no worrys!

I squeeled in excitement. i couldn't believe what just happened. i was so excited! I called up taylor to tell her what happened. "Omg girl, you won't believe who i was texting!" I said. "OMG! who??" I hear taylor say. "Kenny!! He asked if he wanted to hang out, and i obviously said yes!" I said in an over excited voice. "EEKK, im so happy for you!"i heard her say. "Thank you!!! I'll keep you updated!" I said before hanging up the phone.

Time skip:

Kennys POV:

I woke up to the sound of my phone buzzing." Why the fuck is someone calling me at 11am."i said to myself. I groaned and sat up and picked up my phone,it was niko. "Bro you better have a good fucking reason for waking me up."i said. "Jeez.. someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed... It's not my fault you wake up at 11 a.m. Anyways, our latest video went viral because of you and marly. Everyone says that you guys should be together. "So? Who cares? It's not like we are together." I said. "Yeah, i know, but it's kinda obvious that you like her..." said niko. "Yeah, okay, maybe i do like her, but it has nothing to do with you, does it?" I said slightly, embarrassed.

"Yeah okay chill its just a question. There's no need to get so worked up about it.." niko said. "Yeah, sorry..im not in a good mood." I told him. "It's all good,I'll call you back later," niko said. "Alright." I told him. I put my phone back on my desk and tried going back to sleep, but i just couldn't. "Maybe i should tell Marly how i feel.." i said to myself . Part of me wanted to tell her, but part of me didn't. i wasn't sure if she liked me back. I sighed and got out of bed.

Marlys POV:

I woke up to the sunlight shining threw my window, i lifted my head from my pillow and rubbed my eyes. I slowly got up from my bed and made my way to the kitchen. I made breakfast.

I was still over the moon that kenny wanted to hang out. I wasn't sure what to wear. i never really went out on many dates, but i had a few ideas in mind.

Time skip-

it was almost 5, i was kinda panicking since I wasn't sure where kenny was. Lucky i already picked out an outfit..

Just before i could say another word, i heard a loud knock on the door. A huge smile emerged on my face as i went to unlock the front door.

There stood kenny, i was so excited to see him. "Hey Kenny! You look great." I said. "Same goes for you Marly you look gorgeous." He said. His words were enough to make me blush. He handed me a bouquet of red roses.

"There, beautiful! Thank you so much, " i said. "Glad you like them. Shall we?" Said kenny. I nodded and gave him a kiss on the cheek.He opened the front door of his car as i got in. I gave him a smile as he started the car. I looked out the window and enjoyed the view.

Most of the car ride was slient,but it wasn't awkward at all...it was surprisingly comforting. I didn't want anything more than to be in Kennys presence. I liked him, but i didn't know how to tell him. I felt stupid for liking someone like him...afterall, he was basically a celebrity, and i was just an ordinary girl. I turned my head to face him,his beautiful brown eyes shining in the sun. "We're here, marly," he said, smiling. He got out of his car and offered me a hand. I smiled back and held onto his hand.

Time skip

The movie was finished, and we made our way back to the car. "If you like, i could take you home?" He said, not making eye contact. "That would be great," i told him. Before i knew it, we were already half way threw the journey back home. I hadn't had this much fun with someone in a long time..and i was happy that i got to spend it with Kenny.

We were almost home, i wasn't sure if i should tell kenny how i felt yet. Right then, i heard the car stop. "We're here," said kenny. "Thank you again, im looking forward to hanging out with you again, Kenny!" I said. Just before i could open the car door. I felt kennys hand on mine. "I had a lot of fun with you as well

.." he said. There was a few seconds of complete silence before he pulled me into a kiss. His hand carresed my cheek as he pulled me in closer into his grip. I was shocked,my eyes widened as he pulled away. "Im so sorry, i dont know what got into me i shouldn't have done that. im sorry." Said kenny. "nono, it's not that...its just i didn't expect it, that's all.." i told him. "Right..ill be on my way, then I'll talk to you later once again. im sorry." Kenny said.

I exited the car as i watched him drive off. I felt like a complete fool. The guy i had a crush on just kissed me, and i didn't kiss back. I felt guitly, but i wasn't sure how to react. I unlocked the front door and went inside. I sighed and sat down on the sofa and picked up the bouquet of roses. I didn't feel like doing anything and headed straight to bed.

Time skip

I woke up later than usual, i rubbed my eyes and lifted my head up from my pillow. I got dressed and headed downstairs to make breakfast. I was still in shock from yesterday, but i had to move on. I picked up my phone to see several messages from Kenny.

Kenny:

Hello Marly? 9:50 pm

Are you awake? 9:50 pm

I need to talk to you. 10:00 pm

Text me when you're awake.10:20 pm

Marly:

Sorry, i was sleeping! 10:48pm

Kenny:

It's all good, i was wondering if you could come over to my place? I was hoping we could talk. 10:50 pm

Marly:

Sure, what time? 10:52pm

Kenny:

I was thinking maybe you could come over in 30 minutes?10:52 pm

Marly:

Sure, see you soon!10:52 pm

I was a bit nervous since i wasn't sure why he wanted to talk to me so badly..i didnt question it too much and got ready.

Time skip:

I arrived outside his house as i knocked on the front door. I was anxiously waiting for him to unlock the door. "Hey, marly, come in!" He told me. "So i needed to tell you something that has been on my mind for a while." Kenny said. "Sure, go ahead. You can tell me anything." I told him.

"Well, ever since i met you, I knew there was something about you that was different..in a good way, of course. I wanted to tell you this for such a long time, but i wasn't sure if you liked me back. After yesterday, i was sure how you felt about me, but i figured I'd tell you anyway." Said kenny. I was waiting forever for those words. I was too stunned to speak. "Say something, please," he said. "I never thought you felt the same way i did! Im sorry for yesterday as well.

i didn't know how to react!" I said. "So i can kiss you again..for real this time?" He said with a smirk on his face. I nodded and blushed at the same time. He pulled me in closer, putting his cold hands on my waist as he carresed my cheek, his soft lips pressed onto mine, pulling our bodies closer together.

I put my hands around his neck and pulled away for a second for a gasp of air. Our lips once again pressed against each other, this time more passionate and longer. We both pulled away,"So does this make me your boyfriend?" He said. "Of course idiot" i said playfully as i let out a chuckle. "It's getting late, i think I'll head home now, but we can finish this later," i said as i winked at him. "Okay, darling, whatever you say,"he said. His words were enough to make my heart flutter. I was so excited to tell Taylor the good news, i know she'll be just as happy as i am.

Taylors POV:

I was just about to head out when i received a text from marly

Marly:

Me and kenny are dating now! There's so much you need to catch up on!12:55pm

I was fuming in rage. I've liked marly for longer than i can remember, and just before i could tell her, she suddenly gets a boyfriend.

Taylor:

Wow, that's great! 12:57pm

I want marly to be happy, of course, but with me. I just dont get what she sees in him. For the longest time, i had to pretend that i was happy that she met Kenny when all i wanted was to be with her. I'll make sure that I'll we'll be together no matter what it takes....

Ahh! FINALLYY CHAPTER 1 IS DONE!! I hope you like it, marly!

Chapter 2 coming soon!

@vctrvn-ls @shuuuuush @b4tasquad @allygatcr

[thefondlinsons]

broken elbow, karma rules (NR, 2k)

by yourdelicatepov (@harrysmaison)

“Louis…” Harry spoke, cautiously as his heart started beating at an irregular pace. “W-where are you? Right now, where are you?”

“I’m at the hospital-”

“ What?! The hospital?!! Why are you at the hospital?! What did you do? Are you hurt? Are you dying? Are you fucking okay? Just tell me, Louis!”

“I’m fine . Just hurt me arm a little-”

“Hurt? What do you mean ‘hurt’? What happened- Louis what did you do?” Harry nearly screeched into the phone. 

“I said I’m fine ! It’s just a little fracture, nothing big-”

Harry couldn’t hear the next words said by him because he felt the phone slip from his arms. The clattering sound was not heard because it fell on the cushion of his couch. Bloody soft things. 

or,

louis fractures his elbow which causes the unleash of drama queen harry. chaos ensues.

read on ao3!

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this for @hederasgarden I hope you like it!

It is a Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x female!reader imagine.

Thank you @skvatnavle for proofreading!

Warnings: it’s really just fluff, comfort because reader is on her period, this fic is racially and body type inclusive despite the moodboard suggesting otherwise

You had another shitty day, and your boyfriend was only coming back home late in the evening, after finishing work.

Your time spent at work had been terrible, your coworkers getting on your nerves constantly and you had started your period, the pain meds once again not working for you.

You had thought about taking a bath when you got home, thinking that the warm water would soothe you but you didn’t like to go in a pool, hot tub or any kind of tub when shark week was upon you.

Nevertheless you were craving a bath and the fact that your principles and habits forbade you from taking one made you even sadder.

You made it home and set up camp on the couch, the TV running with a show you had recently started but you were only half listening.

Even your phone, your friends, Insta or tumblr couldn’t help you and you knew Bob couldn’t answer, which made you feel even worse.

The pain in your stomach kept you from sleeping but you faded in and out of consciousness until you heard the gentle klick of the front door opening, hearing the sound of Bob’s army boots carefully padding on the floor.

When he reached the living room he gave you a compassionate smile, holding out a grocery bag towards you.

“I’m sorry I took a little longer, sweetheart,” he said and his usual gentle voice was even lower than usual, as not to disrupt you in any way.

“I thought it might be the time,” he continued as he approached you, sitting down at the edge of the couch and leaning over to the couch table, pulling a bunch of items out of the bag.

“I bought some chocolates, wine, thai and your favourite ice cream, so let me put that in the freezer and I’ll be right with you, love,” he said as he ran his hand over your head, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before vanishing into the kitchen.

When he returned he was balancing a plate of your favourite takeout in one hand and in the other a glass of wine that was filled well, setting it in front of you with an encouraging smile on his face.

He watched you sit up before he walked back into the kitchen to get his own plate, settling himself beside you on the couch, the plate of food sat on his knees small in comparison to the rest of him.

The picture would have made you smile but it helped you loosen up a little at least, watching as he glanced up to see you looking at him.

It made his eyelids flutter for a second before he sent you another smile.

“Rooster tripped over an arresting cable today, it was pretty funny,” he chuckled at the memory, his little laugh ending in a low snort that made you smile as well.

You would have laughed had that not hurt your stomach and Bob knew that, his eyes lighting up at your smile.

His eyes darted from you to the TV as he tried to figure out what was playing, asking you to catch him up on what happened.

Your answer was short but enough to have Bob nod, pretending to watch TV as he ate but actually thinking about how to help you feel better.

You didn’t finish your plate but when he brought you the ice cream he had bought along with a spoon you pulled it to your chest, eating it out of the tub while you sat cuddled in your blanket.

As soon as Bob had finished cleaning up he hurried to sit down again, reaching his arm out so you could cuddle into his side.

When you finished your ice cream you set it down on the table, moving to lean against Bob further, one of your hands tangling itself into his shirt and the chain of his dog tags.

You liked the feeling of his dog tags wrapped in your hand while you felt his strong chest and the beating of his heart below your palm.

His heart was beating slow enough to calm you, lulling you to sleep as your head fell on his shoulder in exhaustion.

Your pain was forgotten and you could feel Bob shift beneath you as he sighed, tracing his thumb over your cheek and burying his nose in your hair.

“I have to get you to bed now, or you’ll wake up with back pains tomorrow, sweetheart,” he whispered and you nodded, moving to get up from the couch.

You stopped when he shook his head with a tired smile and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Without a word he moved to pick you up, carrying you to the bedroom and setting you down on the edge of the bed.

He continued to help you as he moved to carefully pull your clothes off and replace them with your pajamas, pressing lingering soft kisses all over your body.

It made you feel warm, fuzzy and cared for.

Bob left your side once more but he returned from the bathroom smelling like mint toothpaste, holding a glass of water and painkillers out towards you.

“So you can sleep through the night,” he said softly as he crouched down in front of you, taking the glass from you when you had finished drinking and pulling the covers back so you could effortlessly lay back.

You were tired and felt safe with Bob as you felt him settle in the bed behind you, making you turn around and curl into his chest.

His arms wrapped around you immediately and the soft fabric of his undershirt felt good on your cheek, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his warm, slowly heaving and sinking chest below you.

You were almost fast asleep when you felt Bob’s lips on your forehead, kissing it gently and brushing against your skin when he talked.

“I love you, baby. I just hope you’ll feel better soon,” he whispered so low that you didn’t know if you were dreaming or if it was real.

Your eyes closed for good then, but your dreams could never be as good as the time you were able to spend with Bob.

yes, I put a gif of Harrison here because I couldn’t find the soft Bob I was looking for

tagging: @wildbornsiren @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @hederasgarden @letsfvckingdance @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @kyramaximoff @peaches-1999 @iloveprettyboysblog @oliviah-25 @natasharomanoffisbaebby @luckyladycreator2 @blue-aconite @tipsykeen @airedale17 @iangiemae @uwiuwi @ycarlii @princessofglitterland @teti-menchon0604

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

[stevesbestgirl]

Shooting Blind

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Blind Date AU

3037 Words

Warnings: manipulative steve, a swear word or two, some sexual themes, idk it’s mostly fluff

A/N: I saw these blind date photos and I just had to write something for it. This might be my favorite one-shot I’ve written in a while. Sorry the moodboard photos aren’t more diverse, there weren’t as many of these photoshoots as I wanted for inspiration, so I ended up searching for specific things and these were the best ones I could find. But I don’t believe I reference anything that would indicate reader’s race- if I’m wrong, please feel free to reach out so I can adjust it.

You took a moment, steeling yourself in the visor mirror of your car. This was going to be fun- Steve promised. And you couldn’t say no to him; if anyone else had asked you to do a blind date photoshoot for them, you would have refused flat out. But Steve was a new friend and you really liked him, so here you were.

“God dammit, Steve,” you muttered as you got out of the car, hurrying inside before the cold air could seep through your coat. 

Inside the large warehouse was warmer, but still drafty. “Steve?” You called out as you made your way further inside.

“Wait!” Steve’s voice was urgent and he came running out of the main room. “Freeze!”

You raised your hands, “I’m frozen.”

He pulled a blindfold from his pocket, “Put this on.” You gave him a look, but he jutted his lip, “Please? You said you’d have an open mind. That’s the only way this works.”

“Fine.” You took the blindfold and put it on, allowing Steve to lead you by the hand into the main room.

When he finally stopped you where he wanted you, you heard his footsteps scurry away before he called over, “And, blindfolds off.” 

Sliding the silky fabric off your eyes, you found yourself face to face with the man you assumed was your blind date. The air seemed to disappear from your lungs; he was absolutely gorgeous. Long, chestnut brown hair tumbled over the shoulders of his leather jacket and thickly-lashed, blue eyes drew your gaze from plump, pink lips.

His lips parted after a moment and the click of a camera made you realize that you were staring. You located the source of the sound; Steve was off to your left, snapping photos of the two of you already.

“Ignore me,” he insisted, “Introduce yourselves.”

You felt your cheeks burn, suddenly very aware of the camera, “Um, hi.” You gave him your name, toying with the end of your scarf.

“Hi.” He dug his hands deeper into his pockets, “Bucky.”

You fumbled for something to say, “Are you nervous?”

At that, he cracked a small smile, making your stomach drop, “Very. Are you?”

“I almost didn’t come inside,” you admitted, a smile of your own creeping up on you.

“I’m glad you did.”

His cheeks were a slight pink, drawing a soft laugh from you, “Me too.” You offered him your hand, “Nice to meet you.”

At your outstretched hand, he laughed aloud, but he shook your hand in his gloved one, “Nice to meet you too.” 

You glanced at Steve, who was behind the camera, grinning, “Am I allowed to take my coat off now?”

“Go for it.” His grin didn’t fade as he raised his camera again.

You unwound your scarf, grateful when Bucky held out a hand for it. You undid the buttons on the front of your jacket and were surprised when Bucky helped it off your shoulders and hung it up for you.

“Thanks,” you murmured, not sure what to do next. 

Thankfully, Steve spoke up, “Okay, let’s start with some poses with Buck’s bike.”

Then Bucky’s hand was on the small of your back, steering you over to the motorcycle that was parked on the far side of the room. Halfway over, he faltered, hand moving away quickly, “I’m sorry. Should’ve asked first.”

You smiled at him, “You’re okay. I don’t mind.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him the rest of the way over, tipping your head at the bike, “She’s pretty.”

“You like motorcycles?” He did a poor job masking his surprise.

“Don’t know much about the machinery, but I like to ride.”

He threw a leg over the bike and offered you a hand, “You wanna sit?”

You nodded, “Sure.”

He pulled you in closer, but before you could climb on, his hands found your waist. He easily hoisted you up, making you squeal as he lifted you clear off the ground before setting you down facing backwards. Before you could be embarrassed by the way your hips slotted against his, the engine roared to life, making you laugh aloud. Bucky laughed and revved the engine a couple of times, drawing more giggles from you.

Steve called over, “We get it, Buck, kill the pipes and quit showing off.”

Both you and Bucky laughed again, but he cut the engine and his gloved hands found your waist. Your face got hot again; he was so close. And even more embarrassing, you liked it.

You turned your gaze to Steve, searching for something to say, “Steve, I know you charge enough to keep it warmer in here than this.”

“You’re looking plenty warm to me,” Steve teased.

“You cold?” Bucky seemed to notice the goosebumps on your arms, though you hoped he wouldn’t realize they weren’t from the chill in the air.

“Should have dressed warmer,” you gave a self-deprecating laugh as you toyed with the hem of the blouse you’d worn.

His gaze followed your hands, “You look nice.” He paused for a second before unzipping his jacket, ignoring your protests and reaching around to drape it over your shoulders. 

You conceded, slipping your arms through the sleeves and trying not to sigh as the scent of something light and woody washed over you, “Thanks.” Casting your eyes down, your gaze landed on his left arm; it was a gleaming prosthetic, black with gold detailing. You suddenly understood why he’d kept the jacket and gloves on so long and his sacrifice of the jacket was even more significant.

Raising your gaze, he seemed to be watching for your reaction, clearly waiting for you to look disappointed. Instead, you took his hand in both of yours, raising it to your lips and pressing a kiss to the heel of his palm.

When you met his gaze again, his tongue poked out, unconsciously tracing his lower lip and your stomach dropped. His flesh hand came up to cup the side of your face, thumb tracing lightly over your cheek, “Can I kiss you?” It was barely a murmur, but there was no mistaking the words. 

You nodded and then Bucky was leaning in, guiding your face up to his until his lips brushed over yours. He was exceedingly gentle- like he thought you might break. His lips were so soft, you found yourself leaning in, your arms snaking up around his neck so you could kiss him back. 

Bucky hummed into the kiss, his prosthetic arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer to him until your chest was pressed to his. You were definitely warm now and it wasn’t until you heard the click of the camera that you even remembered Steve was present.

Hastily breaking away, you could feel your cheeks burning as you glanced at Steve, who had a smug smirk plastered on his face, “You guys ready to meet me at the next location?”

“Next location?” You hadn’t known there would be multiple locations for the shoot.

But Bucky nodded, picking one of the helmets you’d assumed were props off the floor and handing it to you. You put the helmet on, but you asked again, “Where are we going?”

Bucky smiled before putting his own helmet on, “You’ll see.” He patted your thigh and slid back, giving you room to spin around and face forward before he started his bike again. Steve opened the bay door, pausing to snap a few more photos as Bucky cruised out of the warehouse and pulled out onto the main road.

After a few minutes of driving, he pulled into the parking lot at the arcade and cut the engine. He took your helmet as you pulled it off, leaning in to steal a quick kiss to your cheek. And as if on cue, you heard the snap of a camera and then Steve’s footsteps as he hurried to catch up. 

Bucky answered the question you hadn’t asked yet, “Steve said you like games.”

You smiled and nodded, taking his hand again and leading the way inside. Somehow, his hand was still warm. You glanced back at him, dressed in only a tee-shirt and his jeans, “Aren’t you cold? Do you want your jacket?”

He shook his head, “Nah, I run warm, doll. Besides, it looks better on you.” 

Your heart skipped at the nickname, “If you want it back, just tell me, okay? Otherwise I’ll keep it forever.”

You were joking, but Bucky smiled, “Only if you keep me too.”

You bit your lip and turned your gaze back ahead to cover the way you smiled as you approached the service counter. But Bucky pulled his wallet from his pocket, unsheathing a game card, “Came prepared. What do you want to play?”

You made the rounds, playing everything from the claw game to whack-a-mole. You suspected Bucky was letting you win at first, but he quickly realized that wasn’t necessary. By the time you reached skeeball, his tongue was poking through his lips in concentration, something you hoped Steve had gotten a good photo of. Luckily for Bucky, skeeball was your Achilles heel when it came to carnival games. 

He watched you reel off a few bad throws, raising an eyebrow, “You don’t have to let me win, you know.”

You laughed, “I promise, I’m not. I’m just really bad at skeeball.” You took your time, making sure to line up your shot, but it made no difference; the ball bounced off the backboard and slid pitifully down to the ten hole. “I’ve never been able to figure it out.”

He abandoned his own lane, moving behind you and grabbing a ball, “You’re twisting your wrist.” He pressed the ball into your palm and lined his arm up with yours, “Try it like this.” He moved through the motion with you, his other hand coming up to rest on your hip while he walked you through it.

You glanced over your shoulder at him, a teasing smile on your lips, “You’ve finally got the chance to win and you’re gonna help me?”

His cheeks flushed, “I didn’t come here to win, doll.”

He released you so you could make your throw and you instantly missed his presence behind you. But you followed his guidance and took another shot, this one closer to your mark, bouncing off the one hundred hole and settling in the twenty instead.

You smiled, chagrined, “I’ll keep practicing.”

So Bucky returned to his own lane and you kept at it, though his score was climbing higher and higher than yours. Though finally, you took a shot and it landed smoothly in the one hundred hole, the machine dinging in celebration of your mild victory. 

You lit up, “I got one! Finally!” You tackled Bucky in a hug, throwing your arms around his neck as his own arms fell around your waist despite his surprise. You beamed at him, “You wait, next time I’ll be able to beat you.”

If he noticed your wording, he didn’t feel the need to point it out, though the curve at the corners of his lips may as well have. 

Returning to the studio, you thought the shoot was over. But instead, Steve steered you both over to the staged bed; an enormous king-size on a polished wooden frame, all done up in white sheets. You froze like a deer in headlights; yes, you were into Bucky and yes, you wouldn’t mind kissing him some more. But this felt- well, it felt like getting on a roller coaster. Once you were strapped in, there was no getting off. 

You snuck a glance at Bucky, you looked much like you felt. He’d gone a little pale and he was staring at Steve like he thought it was a joke and was waiting to hear the punchline. But instead, Steve turned to you, “Did you wear the stuff I gave you?”

“Well, yeah-”

“Good. Go change in my office.” Something in his tone compelled you to obey, so you scurried off to the side room where Steve kept his computer, pausing only when he called your name, “Wait!” You glanced over your shoulder and he nodded at you, “Leave Bucky’s jacket on.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and left the two alone, closing the office door behind you- not that it mattered. It wasn’t like they weren’t both about to see everything you had to offer anyway. 

You took off your shoes first, the strappy heels you’d been so excited about. Then you peeled off your jeans, revealing the black lacy set of panties underneath. Then you took off the jacket, carefully draping it over Steve’s chair before your blouse followed, the cool air making goosebumps rise on your arms. 

Bucky’s jacket felt even warmer now on your chilled skin, covering the black lacy bra that matched your underwear. You couldn’t believe you’d let Steve choose your underclothes for this. But he’d been so excited about the photoshoot. Maybe you needed to reevaluate how far you’d go to make someone like you.

You decided to put the heels back on, grasping for a little bit of a confidence boost before you left the office. You returned to the set, your mouth going dry. Bucky was seated on the edge of the bed, his thighs spread wide and his shirt conspicuously missing. Steve must have been working on him while you were changing. 

Steve was already snapping photos, taking pains to get both of your reactions to each other as you made your way over. When you stopped walking, you were standing just far enough away to not be between his legs, your bottom lip pinched between your teeth. 

He watched you the whole way, his expression hard to read. You thought it was a positive reaction, but it was hard to tell. When you stopped in front of him, he murmured low, “You don’t have to, if you don’t want.” But with him looking up at you from the bed, those blue eyes wide and concerned, long lashes shyly sweeping over his cheeks as he struggled to meet your gaze, how could you want anything else. 

You took a halting step forward, breathing deep before your hands slid over his shoulders. Then it was like his inhibitions vanished and his hands were tracing over your almost-bare hips, brushing the inside of his jacket as he pulled you closer until your knees were pressed to the inside of his thighs. Even through his jeans, he emanated heat, warming your exposed skin. 

Then with a sharp lift, he pulled you up onto the bed and you found yourself straddling him while he leaned up to find your lips. Even though his actions made him appear confident and comfortable, his kiss was still soft, respectful even. But now you could feel the friction from your barely covered core brushing against his jeans and you couldn’t help the way your tongue sought his, drawing his lips apart so you could deepen the kiss. Your hands traced over the muscles in his chest, his stomach, his arms. There was so much of him to explore and right now, you wanted all of it. 

Your hips seemed to move of their own accord, grinding against him just enough to draw a deep, strangled moan from him, the sound palpable in your own mouth. But at the sound of Bucky’s moan, you realized something else was missing. There was no click of the camera shutter, no frantic footsteps as Steve rushed around to get a better angle.

Despite every inch of your skin craving Bucky’s hands, you broke away from the kiss, sitting up and glancing around. You located Steve, sitting in the armchair that was part of the bedroom set, his camera resting on the small table beside him.

“Steve, why aren’t you taking photos?”

He did a poor job of hiding a grin, “I got what I wanted.”

Your brow furrowed, “I thought you wanted pictures. For your gallery. That’s why we did this.”

Steve stood, approaching the bed slowly, “We owe you a little bit of an apology, sweetheart. I did want the pictures, but that’s not why we did this.”

You were suddenly all too aware of the way you were still straddling Bucky, his hands still tracing soft circles on your waist like nothing was wrong, “Then why?”

Steve put one knee on the mattress like he was going to climb on, “I wanted Bucky to meet you- to see you, like I do.”

“Like-” the repeated words died on your tongue. “Like you do?”

He chuckled softly, brushing his palm over your cheek, “Well of course I love you, sweetheart. What’s not to love? But I knew Bucky, well, both of you, actually, wouldn’t give this- give us a shot, unless I showed you both how good you’d be together.”

You felt strange; no doubt you’d had a little bit of a crush on Steve, how could you not? But you’d come here anyway, because you thought you were helping him out. And now you felt slow, like you were doing a jigsaw puzzle but you could only pick up the pieces in slow motion, “So, you two- you’re-”

“Buck is my boyfriend.” Steve grinned, leaning in to press a passionate kiss to Bucky’s lips, which Bucky returned with enthusiasm.

When they broke apart, Bucky gave you an apologetic smile, “Sorry, doll. I did it for Stevie.” He squeezed your waist, “But he was right about you- what’s not to love?” Your heart skipped a beat and you could feel the rhythm of it in your throat; this was- a lot. 

“I did ask you to keep an open mind,” Steve reminded you. 

They were both watching you, waiting for a reaction. And part of you knew you’d be justified if you told them both to go to hell and left on the spot. But instead, your lips moved toward Steve’s like a magnet, brushing him softly, like you were still deciding. But your mind was made up and Steve knew it. He chuckled softly, pulling his own shirt off over his head and climbing into bed.

[mrsalwayswrite]

Sinners and Saints (Sihtric x reader)

Summary: One day you stumble upon your childhood friend, Osferth, whom you have not seen in years. Yet the more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself drawn to his companion, Sihtric….and the butterflies his dark eyes give you.

This is my contribution to @emilyhufflepufftlk 100 followers challenge! Congratulations again! I’m so happy for you! 

My prompt was - "Love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints." - Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton (in bold within the story)

Words: 5500

Warnings: A couple of swear words, fluff, my poor attempts at humor, Osferth being a good bro. 

Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @flowers-in-your-hayr​

This gorgeous moodboard was made by @flowers-in-your-hayr​. All credit goes to her! 

"...so there she was, aye, and next thing I know, she flips 'er dress up and I see the most perfect set of…."

 "I'm going to be sick." Osferth mumbled to himself, trying to block out Finan's retelling of his prior night. To the laughter of his companions, he started to push away from the outdoor table at the alehouse. He was no virgin anymore, Finan and Uhtred had seen to that, but he still felt squeamish when listening to their stories of recent conquests. His mother's voice whispered in the back of his mind, things she had told him before her passing, about respect and love. Plus, he could not help but think that this idea of conquests, of women's worth derived from what pleasure a man could take from their bodies, was what brought bastards into this world….like him. 

 "Alright, Finan, we get it. You saw the arse of a goat and couldn't help yourself." Uhtred teased, slinging an arm around Osferth so he could not escape them- most likely to find a church and pray for their souls. 

 "Oi, lord! Ya know that was one time!" Finan feigned mock-outrage, making Uhtred and Sihtric laugh. 

 Osferth put a hand over his eyes as if that would somehow block the image from his mind. Something he desperately did not want there. 

 "How much longer are we here, lord?" Sihtric asked, changing the subject, while twirling a dagger between his hands fluidly. 

 Although Osferth would never admit it aloud, and God forgive him, it was hard not to be jealous of how easily his companions handled their weapons like they had been born with weapons in hand. They continued to tell him it was practice. Recently though, he decided it was a gift that he clearly did not have. 

 "Until I feel satisfied with the training of Lord Godwin's fyrd and his defenses." Uhtred stated indifferently, as if it was something he had to repeat to himself often. 

 "Ya think King Alfred knew how much of a horse's arse Lord Godwin is?"

 Uhtred glanced up, a tiny smirk on his lips. "Probably."

 "But he knew you were the man for the job." Osferth commented. Not necessarily to defend his father but to hopefully bolster Uhtred's confidence. "The men respect you, even if their lord fails to acknowledge his own respect."

 "The baby monk is right." Finan said. "What else needs to be done for the town?"

 Uhtred and Finan began discussing ideas and strategies, Sihtric adding an occasional comment but mostly just listening. 

 Osferth found his attention wandering, since this was an area outside of his expertise. His gaze drifted to the town and its residents who moved about to complete their duties under the midday sun. Their group had only been in this large town for two days and already Osferth was keen to return to Coccham. 

 From amidst the crowd, a familiar face caught his attention. The world tilted off its axis as his entire body went rigid, all his focus zeroed in on her. His heart hammered in his chest and the air whooshed from his lungs painfully. 

 "Y/n?" He muttered to himself, disbelief and shock clearly painted in his tone and on his face. 

 "Baby monk, ya alright?"

 Finan's words did even register, so consumed by the ghost before him. Rapidly, he slid off the bench, almost losing his footing when he went to stand, but pressed on, hurrying towards her. 

 "Y/n!" He called, an almost desperate tone in his yell. 

 When she did not turn around, he shouted louder. "Y/N!" 

 That time she paused, then slowly turned to find him standing still amongst those walking around him, a solid rock in a stream of people. He held his breath as he intently watched her expression, suddenly worried seeing him would not be as meaningful as he hoped. He could see her utter his name silently, eyes wide. Then in the next moment, she dropped the basket on her hip and ran towards him. He opened his arms just in time for her to collide with him, and with her embrace, a painful wave of nostalgia and guilt crashed over him with the strength of a tempest. 

 "It's really you." She finally whispered, peering at him in awe. 

 "Hi." He smiled, his own shock clouding his mind from forming coherent sentences.  

 Then to his surprise, she reared back and punched him in the arm. 

 "Ouch! What was that for?" He whined, rubbing the offended limb. 

 Throwing her hands in the air, they landed on her hips as her voice rose in anger. "For disappearing in the middle of the night without telling me!"

 "I did tell you."

 "That you were THINKING about leaving, not that you WERE leaving!" She reared back and punched him in the arm again, ignoring his pained cry as she continued to berate him. "I spent an entire day running around the monastery trying to find you only for Father Harold to finally pull me aside and tell me you left for Wincheaster." 

 And there was the heaping of guilt he knew he deserved. "I'm sorry….I just….I just knew if I didn't leave that night, then I never would."

 Her face softened at his quiet admission, understanding passing in her eyes. "I know. I wasn't truly surprised…. Just wish you'd have told me before."

 "I'm sorry."

 She sighed, all anger and frustration disappearing, much to his relief. She was a force to be reckoned with when truly in her fury. "So, what are you doing here?"

 "Ah, traveled here with the Lord Uhtred to assist Lord Godwin in his defenses….or something."

 "Uhtred? That Uhtred?"

 He smiled at her, catching the reverence in her tone. "That very one."

 "How did you find him? How did you join him? Wait! Are you a warrior now? We have a lot to talk about and you better get started." There went the hands on her hips again, making his smile widen at the image. Even as a young girl, when her hands were on her hips, you knew she meant business. 

 "Would you like to meet him first?"

 A shy look passed over her face that he was unused to seeing. "I'm…. I'm not presentable to meet a lord."

 He scanned her, noting the dried mud on the hem of her dress and shoes, the small smear of what looked like flour on her left temple. What he noticed most was how the years had made her even more beautiful. She had always been a pretty girl but now, she truly looked like a beautiful woman. A fact he was unsure of how to feel about. 

 He chuckled lightly after a moment. "Well, you certainly smell better than Lord Uhtred so I think it's fine."

 That caused her to tip her head back and laugh loudly, the desired effect of his comment. She gathered up her basket and walked next to Osferth, back to the table where his companions were. It was impossible to ignore their curious stares as they approached. 

 "Lord Uhtred, may I introduce y/n. Y/n, this is Lord Uhtred of Bebbanburg." Osferth said, standing next to her at the end of the table.

 Uhtred nodded graciously, clearly wondering why this woman mattered and why Osferth was introducing her. 

 "Oh, it's an honor to meet you!" Y/n gushed, a bright smile on her face. "Uncle Leofric told us so much about you, but I never thought I'd ever meet you in person."

 "Leofric?" That caught his lord's attention, his gaze narrowing and eyeing her with renewed interest. "How did you know that turd?"

 "When he came to visit Osferth, he'd tell us stories."

 "Ah….all exaggerated, of course." Uhtred said with a cocky smirk. 

 "Wait. I think we're missin' the most important thing here." Finan leaned forward, dark eyes bouncing between Osferth and her, as he pointed a finger at them, hand still wrapped around his cup. "Ya said 'Uncle Leofric'....are ya related to Osferth?"

 Osferth answered quickly. "No, her family owned the farm next to the monastery, so we grew up together." Then he furrowed his brows as a thought hit him. He had been so amazed to see his childhood best friend (only friend really) that he had not realized that she should be back at the farm and not in this town. "Wait, y/n, why are you here and not at the farm?"

 Her face crumpled for a brief second before she was able to mask it into a neutral expression. She shrugged casually, but he could read the subtle tension in the action. "We lost the farm, so mother and I came here to look for work."

 "Ah." There were so many things he wanted to ask but could tell now was not the right time. If she lived here, he would have plenty of time to hear the full story later. Instead he decided to change the subject. "So, you know Lord Uhtred, the others are Finan and Sihtric…. And Sihtric is also a bastard." He added as an afterthought. 

 That made her face light up as she turned to look at the Dane. "Hey, another bastard! We really need to start a club. We can all rant about how awful our fathers are."

 "You're a bastard?" Uhtred asked, shock evident in his voice. 

 "Yes, my lord. My mother was a servant for a lord. Got pregnant. The lord's wife did not like that so sent my pregnant mother back to her family. Certainly, it was our Lord's Will because how else would I have been able to grow up with Osferth?" She asked, patting him on the cheek affectionately. He blushed and swatted her hand away, much to the other's amusement. 

 "I reckon you have quite a few amusin' stories of growin' up with Osferth, eh?" Finan smirked. 

 "I might….but I don't share secrets for free." She matched his smirk with her own crooked smile. 

 He slapped his hand on the table. "I'll owe ya a drink! I need to 'ear this."

 "No….oh no, no, no." Osferth said but knew it was a lost cause before he even tried to deter them. The rest were already deciding when and where to meet that night. "Lord help me."

 "It's not that bad." She teased, bumping his arm with hers. "The worst one is when we went streaking naked through the monastery."

 Osferth felt his face heat up like the flames of hell itself as everyone laughed. "It was your idea."

 "Yeah, yeah, so you like to remind me." She smiled fondly. "Now, if I don't get back home, my mother is going to think I've run off with some man or I've been kidnapped. Either way, she will raise the fyrd herself to find me. I will see you all tonight."

 The others said their goodbyes but before she could step too far away, Osferth gently touched her arm, halting her movement. 

 "Y/n….I'm….I'm glad our paths have crossed once again."

 She pulled him into a tight embrace. "I am too, Osferth. I've missed you." With that, she turned and walked away with her basket still on her hip; but not without glancing over her shoulder at the group before disappearing around some buildings. 

 Once out of sight, Osferth sighed and turned back to his companions, only to see them all still staring intently in the direction she disappeared. 

 "No….y/n is off-limits to you fornicators." He stated firmly, well as firmly as he could be. 

 "She's very pretty…." Uhtred declared, a playful grin on his face. 

 "Lord, no. All of you, keep your hands off of her."

 "Or what?" Finan chuckled, eyes alight with mischief. "You'll fight us, baby monk?"

 "I will if I must."

 "Alright. Her dignity won't be tarnished." Uhtred lifted his cup in Osferth's direction. "Your reputation might be tonight depending on what stories she shares." 

 Osferth groaned, sitting back down next to his lord. "I'm going to need a lot of ale."

 "That can certainly be arranged!" Finan laughed, jovial once more. 

 As discussion started back up again, they all missed the silent, longing glance Sihtric snuck one last time in the direction she walked away….

 *****

 Over the next several weeks Lord Uhtred helped increase the defenses of the town and instructed the guards and fyrd how to better defend against the Danes. 

 During those weeks, you found yourself frequently spending time with Osferth and his companions. First it started off with meeting them in the evenings for ale, laughter and good company. Within days, it became almost expected for one of them to purposefully seek you out. Most of the time it was Osferth and Sihtric coming to join you in whatever your tasks for the day because they were bored or unwanted in meetings. It was not difficult to tell that although they were certainly welcomed members of Uhtred's group, not everyone else saw them in such a positive light. 

 So the three of you often passed the hours away together, waiting until evening to rejoin Uhtred and Finan at the alehouse. Their presence became such a regular occurrence that your mother practically adopted them, they even had their assigned seats at your small kitchen table for meals. Somehow, they seamlessly slipped into your daily life in a way that seemed like they were meant to be there this whole time. 

 Even at the alehouse in the evenings, you usually found yourself nestled between Osferth and Sihtric on the bench. A place you certainly found yourself enjoying more and more….especially next to the Dane. 

 Over the weeks, there was something growing between you and the Dane. It gradually revealed itself with each passing day, growing like the roots of an oak tree. It was through the borderline flirtatious comments that you teased each other with. It was in the subtle touches that caused butterflies in your stomach to dance, from your fingers barely gracing each other when passing something, to the way you leaned your head on his shoulder when your eyelids threatened to close, to the way your thighs would touch under the table and away from view of the others. It was in the lingering looks when your gazes locked and you swore you never wanted to look away. It was in the consistency of being next to one another whenever you could, either sitting at a table or just walking down the street, almost like your bodies were magnetized to one another's. 

 Plus the more you talked to Sihtric, the more you desired to know about him. For he was like no other man you had ever met. 

 Almost a fortnight after you reunited with Osferth, there was one particular evening after staying out far too late with the four men and drinking a bit too much, Sihtric graciously offered to walk you back home. You knew propriety demanded Osferth should be the one to escort you but he was already passed out, head on the table and snores emitting from his mouth. Giggling at your childhood friend, you accepted Sihtric's offer and the two of you easily fell into step. 

 On the walk you learned more about his past, about going up in Dunholm and his cruel father. You had heard bits and pieces while with Osferth and the others. Maybe it was under the cover of darkness, maybe it was the extra ale flowing through both of your blood, but he confessed secrets to you he had never told another besides his mother. When you reached your home, before he could slip away, you clutched his arm and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. After, you bid him goodnight and slipped inside your humble home. 

 After that night, he always walked you home, sometimes alone and sometimes one of the others would join. But when it was just you two, when you were alone, you would bid him a goodnight with a kiss on the cheek or he would kiss your hand, locking eyes with you in a way that made a fire stir in your belly and your core clench. 

 There was definitely something between the two of you, but neither seemed able to verbalize it or take the next step. 

 *****

 "So, what is going on between you and Cedric?" 

 You turned your head to look at Osferth, who laid on the grass next to you, soaking in the heat of the early afternoon sun. "What?"

 "You know….that blacksmith. The one you were talking to the other day."

 "Oh." The memory hit you. You had stopped by to drop off your mother's damaged cooking pot for Cedric to attempt in fixing, although you personally thought it was a helpless cause. The dent in it was significant, but he offered to see what he could do. As you dropped it off at his workshop, the two of you began discussing an approaching saint's day and the celebration that would occur with it. 

 Several minutes later, you heard your name called and looked over to see Osferth and Sihtric walking towards you. You bid Cedric a farewell, promising to stop by the next day to come pick up the pot. After receiving his promise to try his best at fixing it, you headed off towards the stables with your fellow bastards. At the time, you had not thought the encounter significant but with it happening two days ago and Osferth now bringing it up, you wondered how long he had been ruminating on it. 

 Finally, you simply said, "he's a good man, and has been kind to my mother and I since we arrived here."

 "Is he….pursuing you?" Osferth turned his head to scrutinize you, his lips pursed slightly as if concerned about your answer. 

 You openly laughed at the notion. "No, that's silly. He is just a kind man."

 If anything, you had to fend off flirtatious advancements from some of the young men that worked under Cedric. Those same young men quickly learned to keep their eyes on their work and mouths shut. When one openly called out to you, and before you could offer a sharp retort, Cedric threw a hammer at him from across the shop. He bellowed that he did not allow heathens to work for him and if they chose to act godless then they needed to find a new place of work. Their blatant interest diminished after that and Cedric made a point to be the only one that conversed with you if you came to the shop. Although he was easily ten years your senior, you found him a likeable man with a quick wit and sarcastic comments that occasionally left you in stitches. 

 The idea of him pursuing you was an amusing idea. He was still a bachelor, never having married, claiming that his work and apprentices kept him far too busy for much else. 

 Your answer appeared to satisfy Osferth. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but immediately slowly closed it and turned his head back to stare at the blue sky. 

 A stillness settled after your answer, only interrupted by the frequent bird song and the wind through the tall grass. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth and just lying around relaxing on the hill outside of the town, away from the hustle and bustle and chores that demanded your attention.  

 "He was watching you like a man who wants a woman." Sihtric stated after a couple minutes of peaceful silence. 

 Startled by his sour tone, you shifted up to look over at the Dane. He sat on the other side of Osferth, one leg propped up and an arm casually slung over it, but his gaze was focused straight ahead, staring off into the distance. Now that you thought about it, over the past two days Sihtric had become more reserved and sullen than you had ever seen. Even his companions commented on it a few times to which he would shrug his shoulders or make an excuse and walk away. You had thought he just missed Coccham, the group having been away for so long, or something happened that made him introspective. It had also not escaped your notice how the prior closeness between you two had halted. Now you wondered if there was something more to his demeanor.  

 "Well, that is most unfortunate for him since I am not interested in him."

 "Does your mother not want you to marry?" Osferth asked, his voice deceptively neutral. 

 Sighing, you leaned back on your hands. Eventually you knew Osferth would bring up the topic, he was your friend after all and you were certainly of marriageable age. Actually far too old to not be married by some people's standards, but you ignored them. "She does but she has told me that she will not force it upon me. She said I should make my own choice….that if I am able, I should choose love."

 You knew your mother offered you that choice in hopes your life would turn out differently than her own. 

 "But if Cedric is a good, kind man….could you not love him….or someone like him?" Osferth pressed. 

 "Perhaps. There are plenty of men I have seen who the church would call a 'good' man but are cruel in their own home, and there are many men who are calloused but it's obvious they love their wife and children. My love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. I would rather choose a man whom I know loves and cares for me than a man I know is 'good' but carries no love in his heart." You paused, the candid confession rolling off your tongue before you realized it. Sighing, you ran a hand over your hair before quietly saying. "I just….I just want someone that loves me….sinner or saint."

 Not a word was spoken as all three contemplated your statement, the silence hanging heavy like a brewing storm. Tilting your face to the sky, unable to meet the gazes of your companions, you chastised yourself for the candor with which you spoke. Osferth had asked a simple question initially and you chose to make it complicated. They did not need to know how you longed for love, how the hope for it in your potential future was what kept you going. It was foolish and you supposed after this, they would only see you as a silly girl with outlandish dreams of a storybook romance. 

 Finally, Osferth broke the silence. "Well, I shall be praying fervently for this man….hopefully he knows what he is getting into before he marries you."

 You laughed, appreciating his lighthearted comment. Reaching a hand out to smack Osferth's arm, you teased. "Keep that up and you won't be invited to my wedding."

 "Your mother will let me in."

 "Yeah, you're probably right." You glanced over in the direction of the town, regretting that your time away had to end. "I need to head back, those chores won't finish themselves."

 The three of you headed back to the town, quiet contemplation cloaking your group. Yet you feared that whatever spark lay between you and the Dane had been extinguished forever by your unexpected honesty. For still he refused to look your way, keeping his gaze focused forward. If your heart fissured within your chest, you swallowed down the pain. It was better for the spark to die out now then burn brightly only to be smothered later. 

 Or at least that was what you told yourself. 

 *****

 "What you said….about the sinners and the saints…."

 You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat with a silent scream on your tongue. In the small herb garden behind your house, you had thought you were alone. After the awkward conversation on the hill earlier that day, you sought solace in your chores. Thankfully Osferth and Sihtric headed back to meet with their companions on their own accord, leaving you to trudge through your muddled thoughts with all the grace of a newborn foal. 

 Now you found the very person who your thoughts centered on, standing just a few paces from you….and your heart began to race for a very different reason. 

 When his voice trailed off, those dark eyes that set fire licking through your veins dropped to the ground, you quietly stood up from where you had knelt, wiping the dirt from your hands, although you moved no closer. 

 "Sihtric?" You tried to prompt him. 

 "Is it true?" His piercing gaze lifted to meet yours, stealing the very breath from your lungs. "Your love doesn't discriminate?"

 "Yes." You breathed out. 

 He nodded silently before taking a step closer to you. "And what about….what about Danes?"

 Your chest pulled tight at his words, yet a coy smile grew on your lips. The flutter in your belly made your gaze drop for a moment as you tried to stifle the excitement making butterflies dance. Although this was no declaration, it was the closest the two of you had talked about what lay between you. Taking a steadying breath, you prayed this moment would not pass by without confessing the truth that you had harbored in your heart for weeks now. 

 "Not even towards Danes." You shook your head, the smile still on your lips. "And…. There is one I'm becoming quite fond of lately."

 "Yeah?" He took two steps closer, somehow moving cautiously but eating the ground with each determined step. 

 "But….do you think this Dane could be….fond of me?" You softly murmured, feeling as if your heart lay in the palms of your hands for all to see. 

 That last step separating you two disappeared almost before you finished asking your question. His hands ever so gently reached over to take yours, entwining your fingers together. The two of you stood so close, your chests almost touched with each breath you took. Your breathing seemed to cease under the intensity of his gaze and a shiver raced up your spine. Yet you had no desire to withdraw from him.

 "He would be a fool not to." He whispered, the barest hint of a tremble in his voice. "I'd bet you are constantly on this Dane's mind. That he cannot go a day without seeing your face and hearing your laugh. You are the first thought that he wakes to and the reason he falls asleep with a smile. That you have become the north star that it seems the gods have been guiding him towards for his whole life."

  As he spoke, everything faded to oblivion around you. The past and future vanished. Dane versus Saxon disappeared. The world narrowed down to this….this moment….this moment that you had dreamt of but never thought would come true. 

 The two of you continued to stand there, lost in one another's eyes with fingers intertwined. Your heart raced within your chest but a cooling breeze swept away the fears that plagued your mind. For staring at him, you knew he spoke no falsehoods. That he owned your heart just as much as you owned his. That very heart you could feel hammering away in his own chest. His eyes fervently held yours, a silent conversation, a confession, spoken only in looks but you both understood the language. His gaze dipped down to your lips, tracing them before slowly rising once again to your eyes. A curl of pleasure blossomed in your core as you witnessed the fire now in his eyes. 

 "If this Dane wanted to kiss me…. I wouldn't mind."

 A deliciously, sinful smirk teased his mouth. "As my lady commands."

 His head tilted, leaning towards yours. Unconsciously your eyelids fluttered closed. Then the briefest of touches made your knees weak and your mouth part open in a sigh. After a moment's hesitation, he continued to shower your jawline with kisses. Needing to touch him, your hands landed on his chest, feeling the tunic that covered his firm chest. Your hands moved upward to grasp the back of his neck, his pulse jumping for a second as your nails scraped his skin. His hands landed on the curve of your waist, bringing you even closer to him, erasing the unwanted space between your bodies. 

 As his lips began their ascent upward along the otherwise of your jaw, you moved. For the burning sparks in your body screamed if he did not kiss you, you would spontaneously combust. Shifting your face, you stole a kiss on his lips before he could place it on your skin. It was more of a gentle pressing of your mouths, but even then, you heard a sharp inhale from him. Before you could question him, his mouth returned to yours with soft, probing kisses that urged you to respond. Not that you would ever deny him. What started off as a gentle flame quickly became a roaring fire. Breathing became unnecessary, for how could air bring you life when your body craved Sihtric, when your lungs demanded to breathe him in instead. He led you in a drugging kiss that had you melting against him. Your lips drank from one another as if that alone could sustain you forevermore.  

 "THANK YA, GOD!!" 

 The passionate kiss abruptly ended as Sihtric and your gazes darted towards the side of your house. Only to be met with the sight of his three companions standing at the entrance in various states of smugness. 

 "Oh, for the love of Odin…." Sihtric mumbled. 

 You buried your face in Sihtric's chest, face heated in embarrassment but unable to stop the giggles that poured forth. So caught up in finally confessing your feelings and kissing the man who haunted your dreams, you forgot that anyone could walk by and see you. His arms tightened around you, keeping you within his protective, loving embrace….and you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be. 

 "Took the two of ya long enough." Finan continued, leaning against the side of your humble home with a shit-eating grin. 

 "Amen." Osferth had a small, teasing smile on his face. "Thought I would have to lock them in a room together before one of them finally confessed."

 Apparently, you and Sihtric were not as subtle as you previously thought. Now it made sense why Osferth was questioning you about Cedric and your thoughts on love and marriage earlier. Your heart flooded with gratitude towards your childhood friend, for without him you doubted neither Sihtric or you would have spoken up. Peering over, you caught Osferth's eye and mouthed a quick 'thank you'. He nodded, a simple joy radiating from his face. 

 "Lord?" Sihtric called over with a blank expression. "Permission to continue?"

 Uhtred chuckled. "I guess you've waited long enough. Go ahead." 

 Without waiting a moment longer, Sihtric tipped your face back up towards his and claimed your lips once more. You vaguely thought you heard laughter coming from the others but it all blurred away, like a faint sound while underwater. All you could see, all you could feel, all you could hear was Sihtric. 

 Just how you wanted it. 

 Suddenly you yanked your head back, your breathing labored and lips swollen. "My mother is helping at a nearby farm today. She won't be back until it's dark."

 He hummed against your skin trailing small kisses along your jawline and down your neck as if unable to keep his hands and mouth off you now that the dam had been released. 

 "I'm not as pure as Osferth thinks me to be."

 That statement made his actions stop. Carefully he raised his head to meet your gaze. "After dark?" He confirmed, voice rough in a way that sent a bolt of heat through you. 

 "Yes, she planned on having supper with them….so my home is currently empty….and I did just clean my blankets the other day…."

 He swooped in to give you a feverish, greedy kiss that left no doubt where his mind had gone. When he finally pulled back, you were surprised your legs could still hold you upright. Your whole body felt like puddy in his arms and he had only kissed you, albeit you doubted you would ever forget the way his mouth worshiped yours. 

 "You are certain? You want this?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes once more. "You want me?" 

 It was the last question, the vulnerable undertone, the hint of insecurity in it that sealed your decision. Letting your actions be your answer, you grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the door to your home. It did not take more than a second for him to come beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

 With his taste on your lips, the future did not matter right now. It did not matter that he was Dane and you were not. All you knew was Sihtric was neither a saint nor a sinner, but simply a man deserving of love. The river of your love was pointing you directly towards him, and you silently vowed to never let it run dry. 

[sparkledfirecracker]

Sunny Fall Out

Synth’s 5K Follower Challenge / How it started – How’s it going?

@syntheticavenger , again congrats on reaching 5K 😊!

Title: Sunny Fall Out

Pairing: Frank Adler x Female Reader

Challenge: Frank Adler / Babysitting Mary

Warning: Swearing and fluff

My blog is an 18+ only zone, minors do not interact. Don’t let the fluff fool you.

A/N: My second entry for Synt’s 5K follower challenge. This fluff entered my brain while working on this dark filthy twisted mobster story. Took a break to write up this fluffy drabble for the lovely anon who requested this for the challenge. Lightly proofread, so all mistakes are my own. ENJOY!

Pictures for moodboard found on Pinterest, credit to the respectful owners!

How it started:

Frank Adler, your next door neighbour, with his complicated character. He was your weakness, his toned physique, his hard working ethic and his devotion to Mary. Exhaustion had overtaken your body when Frank ambushed you. There he had stood; practically begging you to watch Mary for a couple of hours. Roberta being out for the day and he had no-one else to turn to.

You loved that little girl and wouldn’t — nor couldn’t — say no to an opportunity to watch her. Even when you were exhausted and all you wanted to do was catch up on some much needed sleep.

Hours had been filled with chatter, pillow fort building and currently; watching a movie allowing you to doze off. It hadn’t been long when your nap was interrupted, the snuggled up girl moving with impatience.

“How about we paint some nails?” You croak

“YES!” An exciting peep from the small human. “What colour?”

“We can check, there is tons of different shades.” You smiled, getting up and grabbing your keys out of your bag. “I’ll be right back, don’t burn down the house, okay?”

“I won’t.” A mini promise before you hurried next door.

Only briefly getting used to the comfort of your home. You grabbed the small basket with nail polishes and remover. Running back and settling back down in the homemade fort. It hadn’t taken you long to decide on a colour, pink with a glittery shimmer.

“Mary, sit still.” You chirped firming your hold.

“You’re tickling me.” The foot in your hand tried to wriggle out of your grasp. Loud giggles erupting from the small body on your opposite.

“If you keep this up you’ll have more nail polish on your skin than the actual toenails.” You giggle, hearing the door open and keys being tossed on the table with a loud thud.

Frank leaned his hands down on the table. He looked like he had a rough day with whatever he had to do.

“We’re painting toenails.” Mary gleamed showing him the foot we were working on.

“Are you serious?” He sounded aggravated. Mary’s face dropped at Franks annoyed words. Assuming she’d experienced a minor outburst from him before. You couldn’t get a good read on him and opted for the immediate apology.

“Sorry, I thought it might be okay, since it’s only her toenails -- they can be hidden.” Screwing the brush back on the bottle. “I should have asked first.”

“You should have indeed.” He growled

“Mary come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” The disappointed pout on her pale face made your heart sink. Getting up and holding your hand out for her.

“Thanks for watching her, but I didn’t expect to come back to all this girly nonsense and fucking mess.” Frank grumbled. His impatience growing when you weren’t moving fast enough “Just leave it and get out already.” His annoyance had softened when he spoke the harsh words, too late for an apology now.

“Shut up Frank, I thought it was a nice gesture.” Dropping Mary’s hand and pushing past Frank’s body. You turned around to look at him. “You just didn’t have to be a dick about it.” Slamming the door on your way out.

Large steps taken to your house next door, balled fists by your side while you mumbled angrily to yourself. Fighting the tears that were threatening to fall from being exhausted and emotional, clearly the lack of sleep coursing your body. A squeal escaped when you were tugged -- a little too roughly -- on your arm, making you spin around. Frank!

“Leave me alone, you ignorant prick.” You tried breaking free from his grasp, hitting his arm with your free hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t cut it.” You spat tears now streaming down your cheeks from the overwhelming tiredness consuming your body.

“It’ll have to do”

“It won’t and you know what,” You took in a sharp breath “You’re such an asshole you know that? I did something nice for Mary and here you come, barging in and being all rude and taking your shitty mood out on me. She looked devastated about having to take off some innocent nail polish. I did you a favour when you practically begged me to babysit her. It is just nail polish, Frank, not a full blown makeover to become the next pageant queen of the state…”

The anger unleashed onto him had made you feel slightly better. Before you could speak two large hands had pulled you in and enveloped your lips harshly. The shock made time stand still and then your thoughts recollected themselves at what was happening. Trying to push him off.

“I am really sorry,” Frank looks down at you taking in your features, his cheeks blushed. “I shouldn’t have taken out my rough day on you, it’s just -- it’s just Evelyn making life difficult for a second time ‘round”

You knew his mother was ruthless when it came to Mary. He had told you some small stuff, but knew their relationship was complicated. You’d seen her once and she made shivers run down your spine. She didn’t look like a pleasant person to be around.

Your face softened at his explanation “You want to talk about it over a couple of beers?”

“No, I don’t”

“You don’t want beer? I am truly shocked.” You feigned a gasp, clutching your chest in shocked surprise.

“I want the beer; I don’t want to talk -- I want to make it up to you.”

“For what exactly, Frank?”

“Being an asshole, can I persuade you with an offer of beer and pizza?” It wasn’t really a question, but it was a nice sincere suggestion.

You contemplated for a moment, you grabbed his face and risen to your toes. Pulling him down in your cradled grip and pressing your lips gently to his.

“Does this mean she can paint my nails again?” Mary shouted from the door. Breaking away from the kiss, Frank let’s out a grunt and you both turn your head towards the blonde girl grinning widely in the opening.

“MARY! Get inside”

“Play nice asshole.” With a giggle you slapped his chest playfully.

How’s it going – 6 months later

Your sundress clung to your body, yelping at the cold water from the exploded water balloon. You’re quick to grab the hose holding it in Mary’s direction, joyful shrieks filling the air.

“STOP! STOP!” She yelled, trying to fight her way towards you.

“No, you started it, you’ll finish it.” You laughed continuing to pour the cold water on her.

She fell down and let out a frustrated sob. You initially thought she’d gotten hurt, but when you reached her she full blown sprayed you with her water gun.

“That’s cheating.” You protested, you turn your head at the large grumble from the familiar truck you had been waiting to see. Mischief coursing through your body and you look down at Mary who expresses the same delight as you. “Let’s get Frank.”

“YES!!!” The exhilaration clearly visibly, jumping up and down.

Hiding around the corner you watch Frank approach the house, unknowingly, scanning through the mail. Mary runs up to him with her water gun and you throw some water balloons his way. Hitting him on his head and arm.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!” Frank growled looking at the both of you giggling. “This is how I get welcomed home?” He opened the door and tossed the mail inside, before returning with a wide grin, grabbing a filled bucket by the door and running your way.

“RUN” Mary shrieked heading off, Frank followed in her tracks. Grabbing her by the arm and locking her between his legs. Her frantic movements were no match to his firm hold and she screeches when the cold water is poured down on her.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction. Frank whispers something in her ear and she nods. He lets her go and he waves at you, raising your eyebrow in confusion, but soon realize that Mary is running your way.

“You traitor.” You chuckle pointing towards Mary.

Running away quickly, sprinting around the house trying to dodge Mary. She launches her small body at you, hanging onto you like a Koala. It has clearly slowed you down and before you know it Frank catches you, securing you in his grasp. Mary let’s go and runs away.

“I missed you.” You muse giving him a quick peck on his lips, batting your eyelashes at him.

“I missed you too, but that cute look is not going to charm me.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, pulling back giving you a devilish look. “We’ve got other ways to deal with naughty girls like you.” With ease Frank lifts you over your shoulder, you slap his ass animatedly trying to get him to put you down.

[plaidbooks]

Autumn Leaves

A/N: Autumn prompts are an excuse for me to write stupidly cute fluff, so that’s what I did. This is a Sonny Carisi x reader fic that covers the Autumn square in @adarafaelbarba​ moodboard bingo!

P.S. second-cousins are children of cousins

Tags: none, just fluff

Words: 1872

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​ @caracalwithchips​ @berniesilvas​​  @reading--mermaid​  @averyhotchner​  @mrsrafaelbarba​ @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @dreamlover31​

“My family is insane, especially the kids,” Sonny explained while he drove you to Staten Island. “They don’t know how to sit and eat food without screaming.”

You chuckled, "it's fine, Carisi, I promise; I'm kind of used to this type of stuff already."

“What? You are? You don’t even know what’s awaitin’ ya, yet,” he replied, scoffing.

While in the precinct, you overheard Sonny on the phone with his ma. He seemed upset and perpetually tired when he hung up. When you asked him what was wrong, he told you that his ma was basically guilt-tripping him into visiting on Saturday, to help with the Autumn Feast his family partook in. And when you asked why that was so bad, he complained that no matter what they cooked, the kids of the Carisi Clan would hardly sit still long enough to eat, and would scream and cry if it wasn’t something they wanted.

“It just…it’s a handful…and not my ideal day off, even if I do get to see my family,” Sonny finished

You had nodded in sympathy before offering to go with him; you had a pretty big family with a lot of kids, too. Plus, you could never turn down Sonny’s amazing cooking, and now, you were getting a chance to taste his mom’s.

He had picked you up that morning, and now, you were on your way to Staten Island, Sonny warning you the whole way. You laughed and shrugged it off, but he kept giving you a look like you’ll see what I mean.

 ********************

He pulled up to his childhood home, and your eyes sparkled at the state of the townhouse. Not only was the building itself quaint and adorable, but there were decorations everywhere. And not just Halloween, but general autumn décor, as well. There were wreaths made with leaves of reds and oranges and yellows, there were scarecrows against the walls, there were fake pumpkins on every step leading to the house. And looming over the house from out back were two enormous trees, their branches almost completely bare, the leaves scattered on the roof, the front yard, and the back.

Sonny led you up the stairs to the front door, opening it for you. The first thing to assault your senses was the cacophony of noise. Children screaming in delight as they ran through the house, chatter and laughter from the various rooms as people talked. There was a tv on somewhere, with what sounded like a sports or news reporter blathering on and on.

The second thing you noticed was the wonderful smells. Your mouth was almost instantly watering as you caught the smell of garlic, potatoes, some sort of roast cooking with assorted spices, as well as cinnamon, sugar, and apples. It was so much at once; it was hard to differentiate.

But the third thing you felt was a type of warmth that comes only from a loving home. It bloomed in your chest, and you found yourself smiling as you stepped over the threshold, Sonny following and closing the door. It reminded you of the holidays at your own family’s place, and a calm washed over you.

In all of the chaos, Mama Carisi must’ve heard the door open and close, because she stuck her head out of the kitchen. Once her eyes latched onto Sonny’s, her smile grew to blinding proportions.

“Sonny, my little bambino! Come see your ma,” she cooed, arms open as she came out of the kitchen fully.

Sonny scooted passed you and hurried to his mother, wrapping her in a tight hug and kissing her cheek. You smiled at the reunion, and Mama Carisi opened her eyes to find you.

“And who is this?” she asked, releasing her son and coming over to you.

Sonny followed, looking more relaxed than you had ever seen him; getting a hug from your ma did that to a person. “Ah, this is my partner in the department,” he explained, introducing you.

You went to shake her hand, but Mama Carisi wrapped you up in a huge hug, kissing your cheek and whispering, “it’s nice to meet you. Welcome to my home,” into your ear.

“Thank you for having me,” you replied, easily melting into her embrace—okay, maybe it wasn’t just hugging your own mom that relaxed a person; maybe it was hugging Mama Carisi.

She pulled back to give you a look, a warm smile on her face. “Anyone who’s a friend of Sonny’s is welcome here.”

The next hour was a flurry of meeting family member after family member. Even with your detective skills, you quickly forgot most names, and your cheeks started to hurt from smiling. You and Sonny had started in the kitchen before he shuttled you through the house and out to the backyard.

“And these are all my cousins and second cousins; I’m not gonna bother introducing ya, since they won’t pay attention,” Sonny said, chuckling.

You didn’t blame him; there was a gaggle of children running and playing in the backyard. The oldest looked maybe ten, the youngest around four or five.

“Are these the ones that give you such problems?” you asked as a joke. It’s true that they were loud and crazy—as most kids are.

Sonny smirked, nodding. “Sure are. Watch; I bet ya twenty dollars that at least half of them will complain about dinner.”

“You got yourself a deal,” you replied, shaking his hand. Then, you scanned the expansive backyard. Leaves were covering the ground so completely that you could hardly see the lawn; kids were slipping on them all over the place. In the back, left corner stood an apple tree, bare of fruit—you assumed they’d already been harvested. And opposite the tree sat a little toolshed.

Grinning, you made your way through the throng of people and screaming children until you reached the shed. You opened the door and leaning just inside were two rakes: one huge one, and one medium sized. You grabbed the bigger of the two, then went to a small section of the backyard that somehow had no kids.

You glanced over and saw Sonny giving you a weird look, wondering what you were doing. Then, you started raking the leaves. You didn’t expect to get very far—the first pile rarely did. But there were so many leaves that you quickly had a pile up to your hip. As soon as one kid noticed, though, it was on.

The pile was quickly demolished as child after child flung themselves into it, screaming with laughter. But you had already moved on, starting another pile where they had just vacated. This one got a little bigger than the last, since they were distracted with the first pile. But once it was seen, it, too, became a new playground.

As you started on the third pile, another rake joined you. You glanced over and Sonny was there, smiling wide as he helped you rake. This pile got to be huge before little bodies flung themselves into it.

You quickly lost track of time, had no idea how many piles you had built only to be destroyed. But that was the point of the piles in the first place. Soon enough, the children started to become too tired, their little legs worn out. Your own arms were burning, but it was a good burn, and you continued until the piles started to outnumber the children.

By the time dinner was announced, there was not a single child running and playing anymore. They were scattered along the ground, panting, and smiling at each other with a job well done. Their parents all either ushered them to one of the various tables, or simply handed them a plate. Sonny, as well as the rest of his family, watched in stunned fascination as the children ate, too tired to complain or throw a fit about what they were given.

“How the hell did you do that?” Sonny asked in a hushed voice.

You chuckled. “I told you I had experience with this; you’re not the only one with a big family. And besides, no child has ever turned down the opportunity of crunching leaves.”

He gave you a look full of awe before he broke into a wide grin. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and grabbed a $20. You huffed out a laugh as he handed it to you, and you tucked it away.

Mama Carisi walked up then, looking at everyone enjoying her hard work in the kitchen. “You’re a miracle worker, dear,” she said to you before looking at Sonny, “please tell me you’re keeping her?”

Sonny’s ears turned a bright pink. “Ma!”

“What? She’s helpful, knows how to play with children, and is a beautiful, young woman—”

“Ma! Stop talking, please!” Sonny whined. You felt a heat in your cheeks as Sonny avoided looking directly at you. It wasn’t like you never thought about dating Sonny; on the contrary, you found him incredibly attractive. But you were partners; there was a line there that you didn’t know if you could cross.

Mama Carisi scoffed before walking off, leaving you and Sonny to stand awkwardly next to each other. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before he turned and went into the now mostly empty house. You gave a sweeping look at the party guests before following him in.

You found him standing in his old living room, idly looking at childhood pictures on the wall. You watched him for a moment before you moved closer, within arm’s reach.

“I’m…sorry about ma,” he muttered, eyes still focused on the pictures. “She keeps trying to hook me up with any woman around my age and just…I’m sorry.”

You gave him a soft smile that he didn’t see. “It’s okay, Sonny, really. I don’t think anything less of you or anything. We’re partners, and damn good ones, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah, but…what if I don’t want to be just partners?” he asked, voice soft.

You froze; what did he say? Sonny slowly turned to look at you, saw the shock on your face. Then he was shaking his head, quickly saying, “look, forget I said anything—”

You cut him off with a gentle kiss, your lips soft against his. He let out a little gasp of surprise before he was kissing you back. One hand came up to your face, cupping your cheek, while the other went to your hip. You slowly wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You felt that line that defined you as partners only start to fade away as your mouths moved against each other.

Gently, you pulled away from him, just enough to look deeply into those blue eyes you loved so much. “Maybe I don’t want to be just partners, either,” you said softly.

Sonny grinned, his thumb rubbing your cheek tenderly. “Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow, then?”

“Sounds like a date,” you replied, smiling up at him. His grin broadened before he dipped his head, kissing away any fears or doubts you had about this.

[txemrn]

For the simping softness prompt...

Sam & Brynn - " hey, everything's gonna be fine. stay where you are, i'm on my way. "

Hey, Nestle! Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy this, and I hope you enjoy a fluffier Sam Dalton (for a change)! 🥰❤

***

Unveiled

Book: TNA

Warning: language; fluffy

A/N: Huge thank you to sweet @kat-tia801 for pre-reading this and helping me in my headspace with that darn moodboard! 🤣

***

Sipping hypnotically on her early morning espresso, a well-dressed Brynn stoically sits at the marble breakfast bar. Her normally careless, wavy almond tresses are neatly styled and pinned into a low, tasteful bun, exposing the pure white brilliance of her vintage Tiffany pearl earrings, courtesy of her future in-laws for accepting their son’s proposal to join the family. Her make-up is fixed modestly, her lips adorning her perfect shade of mauve, complimenting the ripples of blue and gray in her sparkling eyes. Her pressed midi eyelet dress is designed for women of status, easily paired with her nude, red-bottom heels.

And Brynn has never felt more uncomfortable.

Even though Sam asked for Brynn’s hand in marriage shortly after the new year, the couple agreed to announce their engagement intimately last month to their families. They knew the news would not come as a huge shock, but Sam had cautioned his young fiancée that wedding and party planning is a long-standing tradition amongst the Dalton family women, and it would begin the moment they knew a date had been set. Though she heard his warning, Brynn was not prepared for the onslaught of opinions, decisions being made without her approval, and more importantly, the disregard to her budget.

“Babe, we just spent $12,000. On a fucking cake--” nervously cried Brynn on Monday evening. Sam took the early morning off for wedding cake tasting, but left his bride-to-be with Vivian, his mother, and two of his cousins, Brigitte and Katarina, to talk design as he returned to the office

“Sweetie,” Sam kissed her gingerly, “don’t worry about the price.” He lovingly pressed his lips again to her mouth, this time embracing her comfortingly. “I got it--” Brynn forced a smile, nodding her head dutifully, but the price tag burdened her.

This is not me.

Today, Sam’s cousin Daphne, an apprentice for the designers at Alexander McQueen, has scheduled a fitting with a private collection from a recent trunk show of wedding dresses. Brynn already has her heart set on a dress she saw with Jenny and her mom back in Philly, but as to not rock the boat, Brynn agreed to look at dresses with the Daltons this morning.

A smooth, deep voice startles her from her thoughts as Sam wraps his arms around Brynn’s waist. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

That makes two of us.

Brynn bats her eyelashes. “Do I look like a Dalton?”

“Even better,” he peppers her neck with kisses, “you look similar to the gorgeous woman that agreed to marry me.” A natural smile takes over Brynn as she spins around in her stool to face Sam. She delicately slides her hands around his neck, pulling him into a more intentional, hungrier kiss. Sam pulls away first, tracing the back of his fingers across her soft cheeks. “Ready for another day with the fam?”

“Ready or not,” Brynn sardonically chuckles.

Sam kisses the tip of her nose. “Now, aren’t you missing something?” Brynn furrows her eyebrows, giving Sam a curious look until he pulls his other hand into view. On his pinky finger resting on his first knuckle is the 2.4 carat Graff emerald-cut engagement ring he had given her. “Do I need to superglue this on or what?”

Brynn nervously giggles. “I’m sorry, babe, I just--”she titters, “--you know, I’m just not used to this--”

And the five-digit price tag…

Sam raises an eyebrow, offering his hand with his palm facing up. Brynn’s eyes meet his dreamy, chocolate gaze as her hand easily melts into his. With his eyes not leaving her stormy blues, he glides the diamond on her finger. The perfect fit. He kisses her knuckles before kissing her lips again.

“You better get going, babe.” Resting his hands on Brynn’s hips, Sam helps her off the high-top chair. “Hey,” he leans over, suckling briefly on the crook of her neck and shoulder before brushing his lips against the shell of her ear. “This is all about us. Just you and me.” He offers a crooked smile, squeezing tightly to her hand. “Remember to have fun.”

Brynn nods, her anxiety beginning to melt away.

That’s right. You and me.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, beautiful.”

***

Flipping through notecards for his marketing presentation for the Cromwell account, Sam shakes his watch down his arm. 9:52 AM. He smirks, knowing that Brynn, his mom, and cousins are well into their wedding dress appointment. He hasn’t heard from his fiancée since this morning, so he remains encouraged that no news is good news.

Sam hurries into the glass-enclosed boardroom, casually nodding to several familiar faces as he unbuttons his sport coat. As his meeting comes to order, his phone begins to ring in his pocket. He chuckles in embarrassment as everyone begins to whisper with the interruption. “My apologies, folks,” he charms with a smile. Looking at his phone, Brynn’s picture pops up, but he sends the call to voicemail. As he begins to send her a text message, she calls back immediately. He silences the chiming of his phone, staring at Brynn’s ID photo. “Uh--” his voice carries over the room as he decides whether or not to take the call.

Brynn has never been one to interrupt Sam at work. If she wants to be cute, she usually sends a message in his lunch or she emails him, ensuring not to interrupt his busy schedule. The fact that she was calling, even after her call being rejected concerns Sam. “Excuse me. I need to take this,” he informs his audience, “please go ahead and help yourself to some coffee.”

Sam exits to the hallway, answering the phone. “Hey, babe--”

“Hey.” Brynn’s voice is soft like a gentle breeze, settling into a stale silence.

“Brynn?” Sam’s voice has a hint of concern as he crosses an arm over his chest to cradle his elbow. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, I just--” her voice begins to crack, audibly swallowing sobs.

“Brynn baby,” Sam furrows his eyebrows, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine. I just really--” she sighs heavily, “just needed to hear your voice. I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to bother you--”

“You know full well that you are never a bother,” Sam hushes into a commanding whisper. “Is my mom being nice?”

“Oh God, yes. Everyone is lovely. It’s just--” Brynn stumbles into her own tears, crying over the phone as Sam patiently listens.

“It’s just what, baby--?”

“I can’t do this,” she abruptly answers. “I can’t keep pretending I’m something I’m not--”

“What do you mean--?”

“I have only tried on two dresses--couture dresses--Sam, that start at fifteen grand--” Sam purses his lips together, pinching the area between his eyes, listening to Brynn start to panic. “--and now I’m standing in a Sarah Burton gown rejected by Kate Middleton. Kate Middleton, Sam! And-and-and I’m wearing a diamond that costs more than my first car, and Sam, I just--I just--”

“Whoa, whoa, listen to me, baby,” Sam reassures her lovingly, “slow down. Breathe--just breathe. If you don’t want this, just say the word--”

“But your family--” Brynn tries to stifle her sobs, “God, I just--Sam, I can’t do this. I want you, and-and I love you. So fucking much,” she shakily exhales, “but this life? Are you sure? I mean--look at me--”

Sam lets out an exasperated exhale as Brynn continues to cry. He looks back into the glass conference room, seeing his presentation on the screen. He looks at his watch again before turning his attention back to the attendees to his meeting, already rolling their eyes in boredom.

Suddenly, a smile grows across his face. “Brynn baby?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles, “I’m here.’

“Where are you right now?”

“I’m hiding in the dressing room. I told the attendant I needed a minute.”

“Hey, everything’s gonna be fine. Stay where you are. I’m on my way--”

“But, Sam--”

“No ‘buts’, my beautiful bride,” he smiles cheekily, “I’ll be right there.”

***

Forty minutes later, Brynn changes back into her white, summery dress, slowly donning her heels. As she touches up her make-up for lunch with her future mother-in-law, she suddenly hears a man’s voice interrupt the hushed whispers of the Dalton women. Brynn carefully peaks out the lavish chenille curtain.

Sam.

Brynn quickly pulls open the changing room, a radiant smile illuminating her face. Sam jogs to her side, receiving her in his arms with a searing kiss. “I can’t believe you’re here--” Sam silences her, pressing his lips harder into hers, causing them both to giggle into breathless moans. Brynn opens her eyes and notices Sam has a garment bag in his hands. “What’s that?”

“Change into this.”

Brynn raises an eyebrow. “What? Why--?”

“It’s not new,” Sam informs, “but God,” he sighs, allowing a mischievous grin grow across his face. “--you look amazing in it.” Sam’s eyes lock onto Brynn’s, time and place fading around them. Brynn’s cheeks begin to flush, feeling the desire in his gaze. Sam cups Brynn’s cheek, licking his lip. “Go on,” he whispers, directing her to the dressing room and lightly spanking her on her ass, “we’ve got places to be.”

Brynn suspiciously steps backwards into the changing room, dragging her teeth across her bottom lip. She hangs up the garment bag, unzipping it hastily. Allowing the fabric to slink through her fingers, Brynn’s breath hitches, tears collecting in her eyes. Inside the protector is a short, solid black, one-shoulder dress, the same dress she wore on their official first date, the same dress she wore the night he proposed to her.

She pulls the curtain back open, causing Sam to whistle with his teeth, a golden gleam in his eyes. Giving his mother a kiss on the cheek, he steals Brynn from his family, escorting her to the car. Giving a nod to Carter, the car starts moving.

Brynn relaxes into Sam’s comforting arms. He begins to nuzzle his supple lips into her ear and neck. “Thank you, baby,” she moans. “I’m sorry for interrupting your meeting--”

“I’m not--” he growls as his lips descend to her exposed shoulder, nibbling on it.

“Sam--” Brynn gasps, leaning into the passionate smolder of his pout.

Suddenly, the car stops. Sam looks up at Brynn, offering his hand for hers. “Are you ready?”

Brynn giggles, scrunching up her nose. “I don’t even know where we are.”

Sam helps her out of the car. As she steps away from the car door to adjust her dress, she notices the grand cement gray building in front of her, adorned with large ornate columns and intricately chiseled statues. Stairs that lead to the front doors are busy with people coming and going.

Brynn furrows her eyebrows. Confused and wanting answers, she whirls around--only to find Sam on one knee. A curious smile grows across Brynn’s face as she self-consciously looks around at the crowd of people. “Sam, what are you doing?”

“You asked me earlier on the phone to look at you,” he smiles brightly as his eyes begin to glisten with tears. “I am.” He takes a big breath, gathering courage. “Brynn, I don’t care if we eat gold-infused cake with diamond encrusted icing or that fake shit from the can--” they both begin laughing, welcoming the comic relief as they wipe away their tears. Sam continues, “I don’t care whether you are wearing one of my ratty-old tees or an expensive couture dress--I don’t care,” he kisses her hand. “When I look at you, Brynn Noelle Schuyler, all I see… is that you’re the only one for me.” Brynn genuinely glows, streams of tears pouring down her cheeks as she subtly shakes her head in disbelief. “Marry me--”

“Sam,” she giggles, sniffing away her tears, “I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but haven’t you already asked me--?” Sam stands up, shaking his head. He takes Brynn’s face tenderly into his hands, drying her tears with his thumbs.

“Marry me,” he bites his lip, nervously sucking in air. “Right now.” Brynn’s eyes grow wide as she stares deeply into Sam’s gaze. She anxiously looks around her, her eyes darting to the people staring at them, to the car and then to the courthouse before them.

“Right now?”

“Right now,” Sam smiles, humored by the shocked look on his bride’s face.

Brynn looks down at her hand, staring at the radiant sparkle of her diamond. Chewing on her lip, she subtly nods her head before turning her attention back to her groom.

“Okay.”

***

@ao719 @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @forallthatitsworth @jerzwriter @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268@neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @phoenixrising308 @sfb123 @shannonsaid @shewillreadyou @somersetmummy @thefrenchiemama

[wandsandwheezes]

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH2

one //

Warnings | Mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, other chapters include smut 18+

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London's best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

creds to @vogueweasley​ for the moodboard<3

The warmth on your skin as George's arm lazily draped over your side, truly was a feeling you could get used to. Shamelessly it was your fourth night in a row you'd spent in his bed, a part of you longed for you to wake up in his arms every morning. George was not a heavy sleeper, easily disrupted by anyone and anything, perhaps the only way he'd ever sleep through the night was when he'd passed out drunk. Having seen just how affectionate he gets after a few too many shots, you were glad you hadn't been at the fire whisky fuelled celebrations. 

Sneaking around with George was much easier at Hogwarts, no cameras, no fame, no interruptions; just kisses and evenings together. Part of the reason you and George had such a good time together in Muggle London was that more often than not, you were just a normal couple, free to kiss and hold each other in front of everyone. He pulled you from bed early that morning to take you on a surprise trip before your training that evening. 

He'd gotten you to wrap up warm and comfy in an attempt to block out the freezing British winter winds. The ten minute walk from your home to the Embankment was full of conversations about all of the gorgeous Christmas displays, you even begged him to let you put up the Christmas tree early in the house, giving in when you looked at him with your puppy dog eyes, "I'm so whipped, aren't I?" he laughed, fingers interlocking with yours as you walked. His eyes trailed across the river before an Idea popped into his head, he nodded towards the London Eye, sat proudly across the river in all of its glory. "What do you say, Princess? Fancy heading up there for a bit?" 

Your eyes were beaming the minute the wheel started spinning. You'd managed to get a pod all to yourselves, a rare opportunity, but one you grasped with two hands, laughing as he picked you up and spun you round and around. "We should run." you spoke softly, hand running through his hair gently as you looked into his eyes. "For you, I would." he murmured, catching your lips for a long kiss, it wasn't quick or fiery, just a deep, long passionate kiss. He took his time with you because he had it, there wasn't any rush here, no chance of being caught or stopped. His kiss said a thousand words about the way he loved you.

Looking out over London's bustling city with your head in George's chest made you realise just how perfect a life with him was. When there were no cameras, no press, no fakery and especially no Cherry in sight, It was easy to feel every beat of his heart, as they synced together beating as one. You were tracing circles on the back of his hand taking in every curve of his knuckles and the beauty of every sporadic freckle. Only you could differentiate the touch of your lover so distinctly, you felt him in the way he curled his fingertips up when he cupped your jaw, or how his arm would wrap around your waist with enough strength that made you feel protected. 

"Where would we go if we ran?" You mumbled softly, your small fingers slotting through the gaps between his own. "Remote Indonesia…" he joked, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "I'd go anywhere with you, My Love, one day we won't have to run, I Just wish eighteen year old me had enough balls to say he loved you and then we wouldn't be in this mess." you shook your head, pulling his arms around you tighter as you snuggled into his hold, "Don't you dare, George, It's you and me forever, no matter what, right?" he hummed contently, pulling your hand up to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles, trailing kisses up your arm to your neck between every word. "Forever, and ever, and ever, and ever…"

 //

You'd just stumbled your way into your dorm, arm still in a sling after a pretty nasty accident, a bludger to the ribcage never did a girl any good. A box of chocolates lay on your bed, as well as a note. 

Words aren't enough to tell you how sorry I am, I'll make it up to you, I promise . Get well soon, Y/N <3

-G

Locking eyes with George from across the great hall as you sat with your friends and he with his, he was looking at you with pleading, guilty glances. It really wasn't George's fault that the bludger hit you, sure he hit it, but you were on rival teams and that was the danger of the game. If the fact that he was the first at your side when you struck the floor should've made it obvious, but the fact that you were struggling to breathe and you couldn't move much really over shone the moment. 

You were sat in the room of requirement, in front of the roaring fire, staring directly at each other. You were only a month into the relationship and It wasn't awkward, just unfamiliar, he wasn't sure if he could touch you or hold you, let alone kiss the pain away. Instead he settled for holding your hand, thumb brushing over the back of it comfortably. 

"You need to stop blaming yourself George," 

"But I hurt you, and I-" 

"Shh, baby, the massive Iron ball hurt me… It’s all part of the game." You had now leant forward to crawl onto your knees, kneeling before him, you pressed your lips to his, making him forget about his bewitching thoughts, now only focused on you. 

"I'm going to protect you." George stated so matter-of-factly, that it made you recoil slightly. It was tough words from a 16 year old. He caught your expression, "I'm serious. It's going to be me and you, Forever." You were blushing, he made you feel like the only girl in the world. 

"No matter what?" You questioned. 

"Forever, no matter what."

//

After your impromptu date, George made his way to the shop and you went back to his to grab your phone, and get ready for practice. You'd left it there, the time away from the pinging and buzzing from Cherry's latest update

 or her next best opportunity. You were unsurprised by the 30 odd messages from your Publicist rambling on, but one stuck out like a sore thumb. Fred. 'shit' you thought, 'I've gone and missed something.' hesitantly opening the message to see just one message. 

>> are you gonna head by the shop today? No worries if not, I know you're busy x

<< I’ll try and pop in before practice, if not… coffee tomorrow? :)

You contemplated how your reply sounded while you stripped from your clothes to pull on your branded activewear, a picture caught your eye, the Gryffindor quidditch team, captained by Oliver Wood in Harry’s first year. They all looked so young and eager to get out onto the field. A devilish idea crept into your mind and you found yourself rooting through George’s drawers, finding exactly what you had set out for. You pulled on the old Gryffindor quidditch sweater, observing yourself in the mirror, It was odd to see yourself in the deep maroon and orange after years of donning the silver and green. You picked up your phone, sending George a quick text. 

<< Meet me down the alley by B&B… I need to show you something. I’ll be 5 x

>> I won’t ask ;) x

You wrapped your coat around your shoulders, slinging your duffel over your arm before grabbing your wand, apperating just up Knockturn Alley. you checked over your shoulder, hoping not to be caught, you passed Bourgin and Burkes, spotting the boy with fiery red hair standing down the secluded alley. 

“What did you need to show me then, trouble?” he joked leaning against the wall, steam billowing from his lips from the bitter cold. You smirked, unzipping your coat to show him the knitted sweater. “Is that-” you cut him off with a nod, fingertips reaching to zip your jacket back up, but his strong hands catch your wrists, pinning you against the wall. “Take it off or I’ll rip it off.” he was half joking, smirking down at you as you rolled your eyes. He caught your lips in a hurried kiss, his hand leaving your wrist to cup the side of your face. 

Even with your eyes closed you noticed the bright flash, a flash you knew all too well. You’d been caught. Thinking quickly on your toes, you put on your signature giggle, pushing George’s chest away while whispering a soft ‘play along’, as your eyes caught his, you bat your eyelashes. “Freddie, stop it will you?” he tried his hardest not to laugh, as he backed up holding his hands up in defeat. “I can’t hold my girl from her practice any longer.” the small group of paparazzi were begging for another kiss, or at least more interaction, you dragged George away from the scene, “show’s over I’m afraid folks!” the cameras continued to rapidly flash as you  quickly apperated him away from the scene to his office. 

“That’s gonna be the front page tomorrow,” you sighed as you slumped into his desk chair, throwing your bag to the floor, “Cheryl is going to murder me in broad daylight,” He was gently rubbing your shoulder, before he leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll fix it, baby.” he reassured you, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Forever.” the word that quickly became your ‘I love you’. You stood and pulled off the jumper, as well as your jacket, handing him back what was his. “Make sure to take it home will you? We can have some fun later with it,” you smirked, picking up your bag and sending him a wink before apperating to practice. 

Cherry’s deep red car was outside of the stadium, you dreaded the conversation that was about to happen, contemplating just bolting out of there. ‘Better to face her head on than piss her off’ you thought, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down before opening up the door and climbing into the passenger seat with a smile. “You should’ve said you were swinging by and I would’ve showered, I feel bad stinking up your car!” you joked, trying your best to sound surprised by her visit as you pulled your duffel onto your lap. 

“Good news, You’ll be the front cover of the prophet tomorrow.” you gasped, a smile on your lips, “I am?” she laughed, tapping away on her phone, pulling up a picture, “Yeah it’s you and Fred… locking lips. Care to explain what happened to the ‘no kissing’ rule” You took the phone thrust into your face by your publicist, looking at the picture snapped just a few hours prior. You had to admit George did look pretty sexy in the position he was caught in, you looked over at her with pleading eyes. “I’d love to congratulate you, but that’s not Fred you’re kissing, is it?”

You cocked your eyebrow at her, “Who else would it be? Of course it’s Freddi- wait you don’t think that’s George do you?” you laughed, pressing your lips together, to stop the full laugh erupting. “Don’t let Fred hear you say that, he gets funny about people mistaking him for George, you know.” she looked back at you blankly, clearly unappreciative of your laughter. “Come on Cherry, what reason would I have to be kissing George?” you tried to think of a reason around the ‘no kissing rule’ “The only reason I don’t like kissing Fred at events is because I don’t want it to seem fake, I’m obviously not adverse to kissing him, I just like to do it in private, He is an attractive man after all.”  Cheryl was now squinting at you, she sighed however, pulling her phone back out of your hands. 

“You’re right, why would It be George?” she adds, pulling the car out of it’s parking space, “Here, I’ll drop you home, you need a shower desperately.” you laughed pulling out your phone, seeing a text from both of the twins. 

>> Let me know when you’re on your way home, I’ll stick the shower on for us ;) x

>> Coffee tomorrow it is! :) 

When you jump out of the car, Cherry rolls down her window, to speak to you. “I want a nice kiss like that for the product launch.” you go to protest but she cuts you off. “Make it happen.” and with that she was away in the wind.

Today was a close call, almost too close for comfort. You and George needed to be more careful, and harder yet, you had to keep that copy of the Daily Prophet out of Fred’s eyeshot. 

// TO BE CONTINUED // Chapter Three >>>>>

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[elentiyawhitethorn]

The Bet | Chapter Thirty-Six

Masterlist//Moodboard//Timeline//3201 words

Day 100 (Part Two)

“We need to talk.”

Rhys blinked, clearly unsure as whether or not to be concerned. But he wasn’t going to leave her in the cold for a moment longer; after glancing behind her and taking in the snow and ice, he hurried her inside.

Feyre stepped in silently, still looking more confident than she felt, and watched as Rhys closed the door. When he turned back around, he said, “To all of us?”

“No, just you.” Feyre fiddled with the hem of her sweater.

“So somewhere private? Like… my room?” His room was the obvious choice because there were other (extremely nosy) people living here, but Rhys seemed to struggle saying it. He was wincing. Not off to a good start then.

“Yeah, that works,” Feyre said lightly, ignoring his reluctant tone.

Rhys led Feyre down to the hall to the living room on the way to the stairs. Cassian and Azriel were seated on the couch, and both glanced up upon their arrival. Azriel raised a brow in question and Cassian opened his mouth as if to say something, shutting it and narrowing his eyes when Feyre breezed past without a word. Rhys just kept walking, still unsure as to Feyre’s reason for being here.

Neither of the men said anything, as neither had a chance. Feyre hurried after Rhys, hoping they would get by before either could speak. That would take some explaining later.

They went up the stairs in a strained silence. It had been days since the pair had actually had a conversation, Feyre’s “I love you” slip making their interactions tense.

Rhys walked into his bedroom, a room on the left Feyre hadn’t been inside of before. The walls were a deep blue that she found lovely, and other than a few knickknacks and model airplanes here and there, it was quite neat. The bed was made and everything was straightened or in its own place.

Rhys glanced at the bed and winced—likely because he couldn’t find anywhere else to sit—and moved over to it, gesturing for Feyre to do the same. She quietly padded over and sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

“So, Feyre, what did you want to talk about?” She couldn’t deciper the emotions in his voice.

“There’s something I need to tell you, and you’re probably not going to like it,” Feyre started. “That’s okay, I’m not expecting you to. I just need you to know.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow and Feyre decided to stop stalling. She averted her gaze to the wall, not wanting to see him, not wanting to see the dismissal she was afraid of.

“I’m in love with you. I have been for a while. And I know you’re probably not ready for any sort of relationship after everything that’s happened to you, and even if you are, you might not want it to be with me. I understand that. I just needed to tell you. I can’t go on like this. And at least this way I might have some sort of closure. I’m sorry, but it’s not like I’m destroying our friendship by saying this because it was all kind of awkward anyway. I get that you don’t want anything with me, because I’m, well, me, but I…”

Feyre stopped rambling. She had rehearsed her words on the way here, but she had forgotten every single line, and she probably sounded like a mess. The confidence she’d held when she left the apartment had slowly drained out of her while she talked. Now she was uncomfortably staring at the wall, her gaze fixed on the blue paint.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Rhys wasn’t saying anything. Feyre could hear his breathing, a bit heavier than usual, but she was still too terrified to looking at him.

“Um, I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you were expecting to hear. You don’t have to say anything, I can just go if that’s—”

Feyre was cut off by the feel of Rhys’ hand on her face, gently turning her head to him.

“You love me?” He looked like he was in shock. Feyre cringed internally.

“Yes,” she responded, determined to remain steadfast.

Feyre noticed that Rhys’ hand was still resting gently on her cheek. He hadn’t dropped it. She didn’t know what that meant.

“Feyre, I…”

She wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he didn’t have to say anything and it would be better if she just left and they never spoke of this again, but she couldn’t find her words. Not with Rhys’ thumb drawing circles on her cheek. It took every molecule in Feyre’s body, every summoned piece of will she had not to lean into the touch. Probably not what she should be worrying about right now, but it was distracting. And Feyre didn’t understand what that tender touch meant—maybe he was trying to comfort her as he let her down?

Rhys was looking at Feyre, gazing right into her eyes, into her very soul, and she was paralyzed under his stare. She could only sit there, frozen, as he took her apart with his eyes. She felt so bare before him, as if he could see every part of her.

And every thought eddied from Feyre’s mind as Rhys slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.

Rhys’ lips were soft. That’s the first thing that ran through Feyre’s head. All she could think about was the feel of his lips against hers. Feyre could get drunk on the taste of him.

More daring than she’d felt in a while, and entirely unconcerned with what this was, Feyre parted Rhys’ lips with her tongue. He let out a small groan, only spurring Feyre on. She gave a swipe with her tongue along his own tongue.

The movement seemed to snap something within him, and Feyre felt Rhys’ hands slide onto her hips. She scooted closer, resting her hands on his chest. The chest that she had ogled for so long. Feyre ran her hands over him, reveling in the chiseled perfection. Not that she would ever repeat that thought out loud.

Feyre was going to burn in the eternal pits of hell for this, and she didn’t even care. Fuck, if Rhys’ tongue made it to hell with her, she’d be more than satisfied. The feel of his mouth, his hands, his body pressed against her...

Rhys pulled back, slowly disjoining their lips. Feyre was panting as she pulled away. She tried to rally her thoughts and form a coherent sentence, but it seemed to be a downhill battle.

“What… I… fucking… do you…”

Rhys laughed. “I love you, too.”

“What?” Feyre almost yelled.

He grinned. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, Feyre.” His expression turned tender. “You are amazing and talented and funny and badass and stunningly gorgeous, and you have my heart.”

Feyre’s mouth dropped open. “Well fuck.”

Rhys burst into laughter. “That’s one way to put it.” He looked like he was glowing. Feyre felt the same. Rhys loved her.

Feyre giggled, probably a bit hysterically, and said, “You actually love me?”

Rhys nodded. “Of course I do.”

“But… but I told you that in my studio. I didn’t mean to, but I did and you… you didn’t say anything.” Feyre’s mind was swirling in disbelief.

“I wasn’t sure you meant it. And even if I was, you hardly gave me a chance to say anything back.”

Feyre scowled.

“What?” Rhys asked, likely thinking he’d said something wrong.

“That was exactly what Mor and Lucien said.”

Rhys laughed. “So they know?”

“Yeah,” Feyre mumbled.

He only smiled fondly at her. Gods, was this real? Or was this just some sick, twisted dream that Feyre would wake up from eventually?

Noticing her growing anxiety, Rhys placed his hands over hers. “I love you, darling. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of saying that.”

Feyre smile and shifted, moving her arms to hug him. “I love you, too.”

Rhys sighed against her ear. “I should have said something sooner. I just didn’t want to lose you. It was selfish.”

“It wasn’t selfish, Rhys. Besides, it’s not like I was the most forthcoming.”

He pulled back. “You still said something eventually. Why did you decide to tell me today, anyway? Was it because of Tamlin? Because that’s all over now?”

Feyre paused. “Yes,” she said in what definitely sounded like a fake voice. Shit.

He gave her a questioning look. “You don’t sound too sure about that.”

“Well…” Feyre winced. “That helped along the process.”

Rhys just crossed his arms.

“But really it was because… fuck, I don’t have to tell you!”

Rhys flashed a crooked smile. “But if you do we can laugh about it together.”

“I didn’t tell you it was funny.”

“But you look embarrassed enough that I figure at least I will be laughing.”

Feyre scowled. “You’re an ass.” The man only smiled some more. “If you must know, there was a bet.”

“A bet?”

“A bet,” Feyre confirmed.

“And am I going to get any more details about this bet?”

She groaned and fell back on the bed, covering her face with her hands. “It’s so humiliating. The first night I was here, Mor and Amren bet me a hundred bucks I couldn’t stay away from you for a hundred days. It wasn’t that simple; there were a bunch of specific rules and everything. We wrote it all out on a McDonald’s napkin. We were so drunk.” Feyre kept her face covered, too embarrassed to look at him.

“And today is day one hundred. I kind of already lost a bunch of times, so Mor suggested just to call it a stalemate. But the day isn’t over yet, and I paid her and came over here.”

Feyre peeked between her fingers once she finished to see Rhys grinning down at her, on his side beside her.

“Ugh,” Feyre moaned. “Don’t say anything. You’re not allowed to say anything.”

He laughed merrily. “You made a bet about me.”

“We were drunk. I told you, we were fucking drunk.”

“And you lost,” Rhys added smugly.

Feyre whacked him in the arm. “Shut up.”

“I’m never going to let you live this down.” His voice held enough amusement that she had little trouble believing him.

“If I could bottle up your face, I would call it Essence of Prick,” Feyre said dryly.

Another stunning laugh left Rhys’ lips. “I would call you Substance of Beautiful Lady.”

Feyre was hit by a sudden wave of shyness. Still, she couldn’t quite hold back a snort. “That’s a sucky name.”

“Accurate though,” Rhys countered.

Feyre blushed. “Whatever,” she murmured. He only smiled wider in response.

A thought struck Feyre. “What happened with Tarquin?”

“What?” Rhys asked, but she knew he understood the question. He had tensed and his voice was tight.

Feyre sat up. “What happened.” This was less of a question than before.

Rhys sat up as well. “I told him you said hello, as I mentioned to you. He didn’t know we were acquainted, and in his surprise, he let slip that you were in love with someone.”

Feyre exhaled. “He told you?” She was pissed.

“He didn’t tell me who you were in love with. Looking back on it, he didn’t seem to know it was me. But it really was an honest mistake. It’s a long story. But the point is that he let that slip and then made me promise not to tell anyone.”

Feyre blinked. “But then you were angry with me because…?”

“I wasn’t angry with you, Feyre. I thought you felt about someone else the way I felt about you, and I was upset. I’m sorry. I never should have shut you out.”

Rhys looked genuinely apologetic, and Feyre knew that Tarquin’s intentions were always good. Despite not knowing how, exactly, Tarquin had let that slip, she knew Rhys wasn’t going to elaborate. She couldn’t bring herself to stay mad at either of them; at Tarquin for telling Rhys she loved somebody or Rhys for being such a jackass in the following days.

“It’s okay, Rhys. I would have been devastated to find out you cared about someone else.” Feyre did make a mental note to text Tarquin and not only update him on the guy situation, but also ask for more details.

Rhys smiled and pecked Feyre on the lips. It was a small, minimal-heat kiss, but Feyre’s insides started fluttering. She pressed her thighs together and, of course, Rhys noticed the movement and smirked. As much as Feyre wanted to be annoyed, she had missed that smirk too gods-damn much to feel anything but turned on.

Feyre leaned forward and kissed Rhys shamelessly. He tangled a hand in her hair, the other landing on her hip. That hand started sliding, making its way toward a breast.

She leaned into the touch, desperate for the moment when she would undoubtedly feel his fingers grasping her breast. His thumb was just brushing the underside of her bra—

A smash that sounded rather like glass shattering came from outside the door.

Feyre and Rhys jolted apart. They both looked to the door, only to hear muttered curses and a voice that sounded suspiciously like Azriel hissing, “You idiot!”

They looked back at each other, exchanging a wary glance. Feyre wondered what the fuck Az and Cassian were up to.

Rhys stood and Feyre trailed behind him as he made his way to the door. He turned the knob and quickly yanked it open… to find the guys trying to scoop a pile of glass onto a paper towel.

They both glanced up guiltily from their crouched positions on the floor when the door opened.

“Oh, Rhys!” Cassian exclaimed. “Feyre! It’s great to see you guys.”

Feyre crossed her arms. “Explain.”

“Well, you see,” Azriel started, casting an annoyed glare Cassian’s way. “You two have been in here for a while. And we thought you might be thirsty. But Cassian, like the dumb oaf he is, dropped the glass.” Another scowl was directed to Cass at this.

“There’s no water on the floor,” Rhys said, frowning.

They only blinked at that.

Cassian finally cracked—Feyre could see it in the way his shoulders dropped. “We wanted to know what you were talking about, but we couldn’t hear, so went to get a glass like the spies use against the door. It didn’t work.”

Azriel sighed, clearly exasperated that his partner in crime was giving in so easily. “It was working just fine, they just weren’t making any noise.” He gave a raised eyebrow to the pair here.

Feyre pointedly ignored this look and said, “Go get a broom or something.” Then she pulled the door shut, just about slamming it on the eavesdroppers.

Rhys smirked at her. “Eager to get back to where we were?” His voice was low enough that the men likely couldn’t hear him.

Feyre smiled back at him. “Maybe later. I don’t think I can do anything with you knowing those two assholes are fumbling around with glass bits just outside. For now I just don’t want to give you up.” She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him back to the bed, flopping down and pulling him with her.

Rhys chuckled and wrapped an arm around her, using the other to prop himself up.

“Will you be my boyfriend, Rhysand Night?” Feyre whispered, her face inches away from his.

He smiled and said, “No.”

Feyre blinked. “What?”

He laughed quietly. “You can’t tell me you love me first and ask me to be your boyfriend. I have to do something so I don’t look like a coward on the records. Feyre Archeron, will you be my girlfriend?”

She laughed incredulously. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“I mean it.”

“No, I will not be your girlfriend. I ask first or nobody asks at all,” she retorted.

Rhys grinned. “I guess we’re at a stalemate then. How about we both agree to date at the same time?”

Feyre gave a phony scowl. “Absolutely not. I asked first. You can’t take that away from me.”

Rhys pouted with equal fakeness. “But darling…”

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Feyre asked again, this time leaving no room for a denial in her voice.

Rhys sighed mournfully, but his lips were twitching as he said, “I suppose so.”

Feyre smiled happily. “Okay.” That was all she could manage.

Rhys matched her expression with a beam of his own and leaned forward slowly. He gently pressed his lips against Feyre’s.

She felt every emotion transmitting through the kiss, and she was electrified by the love she felt from him.

The kiss ended, and Feyre couldn’t help but say, “Next time don’t be such a flirty dick and I might make a move sooner.”

“Is it imperative that we argue right now? We were having a moment.” But Rhys knew full well she had been joking. Slightly. He did waggle his eyebrows a bit too much.

“I like arguing with you,” Feyre blurted. She hadn’t even meant to say it; it just popped out. It was true, though, she realized.

Rhys gave another smirk. “Oh?”

“Whatever.” Feyre rolled her eyes, pretending that her face wasn’t the color of a ripe tomato.

He smirked and leaned forward again. Before their lips could connect once more, an expletive sounded from outside the door. Then a sigh. Apparently Cassian, who Azriel had likely coerced into cleaning up the glass shards, was not having a good time.

Feyre smiled and nuzzled her face in Rhys’ shoulder. He instantly pulled her closer and held her.

Things were not perfect—far from it. There was the arduous task of informing their friends. They would have to sort out this new relationship and come to terms with the events of the day. Tamlin may be in prison for breaking and entering, among other things, but his trauma would remain. As would Amarantha’s. Feyre was planning on looking into a new therapist.

But despite every little issue that would make this so difficult, Feyre was excited. She had had a whirlwind of a day, what with Tamlin’s ambush and now this. She had walked into this house expecting to come clean with Rhys and find some closure in his denial, and ended up as his girlfriend. And now here she was.

None of the problems existed, not here in Rhys’ arms. This was the safest place Feyre had ever felt, and she looked forward the living the rest of her life in his embrace.

Thinking about how drastically the last little bit of the day, perhaps a mere half hour, had changed things was hard for Feyre to grasp. She had done a lot today, standing up to Tamlin, having the police take her statement, and confessing what she felt for Rhys. Now it was late and she was tired.

Before Feyre unwittingly drifted off, she couldn’t think of anything other than the fact that Rhys was hers, and if she had her way, he would be for a damn long time.

———

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[zayneternal]

《 Halloween in June 》

summary ↠ It’s been 6 months since you and Taehyung have made it official, and it’s been nothing but sarcastic roast sessions and the occasional binge of Criminal Minds on Netflix, but for the last of those glorious months, a rather strange arrival has made himself known to the closing baristas at your place of work. Which brings you to the newly normalized routine of your closing shifts: the weird guy (who wears demon horns?) is seen stalking the outside of the shop again, Taehyung specifically asks you not to work the shift alone, and you do exactly what you always do...work the shift alone. 

genre ↠ angsty angst ooO

member ↠ kim taehyung

warnings ↠  physical violence | stalking

word count ↠ 5.1k

moodboard credit to @jiminspjm

~

"Don’t close by yourself tonight,Y/N. I mean it.”

The words of your boyfriend, Taehyung, sternly imparted by soft lips against your temple while you’d prepared to leave for work earlier today, are still ringing painfully around between your ears as you directly disobey him. You watch the new barista, whom you’ve just excused from the gruesomely slow shift, gather her belongings, clock out, and disappear into the caramelized evening with a resounding jangle of the door chimes.

Arching away the guilty prickles that slowly inch up your spine at the knowledge of what you’ve just done, you sigh inwardly, pursing your lips as you traipse back behind the bar to finish up the last of the menial cleaning tasks. Taehyung is fully aware of your nasty habit to send home the newer baristas a little early on particularly slow nights like this one which is exactly why he’s been blowing up your phone since you arrived, making calls every hour that you’ve been declining in the name of “busyness”, but really, you know that hearing his voice will only make you feel worse about sending Jess home when he specifically told you not to. If it weren’t so furiously endearing and didn’t make you feel a kind of protected that you’d never let him know you felt, you might think Taehyung was being a little more overbearing than he is. 

Despite Taehyung’s wishes, there’s really no point to having two people on the clock when there have only been three customers in the last hour--one of which being the regular that resides in the back corner working on the next great American novel that he’s had half finished for about two years now. You and Jess, even with her distracted habits and scatterbrained nature, got miles ahead on the closing list, leaving you very little to do besides counting the money drawer, cleaning out the espresso ports, and locking up at the end of the night.

You regret these bulleted thoughts when a sharp buzz begins smarting against the glass at the top of the pastry case, your phone screen lighting up to reveal a candid frame of Taehyung’s squinted smile, his name shining like a beacon across the top. Even after half a year of that picture present in your phone, the reminder that the man whose image it bears is the one calling you still sends your nerves blazing--a fact you’ve had to endure Taehyung teasing you about on numerous occasions (though he would admit to the same). 

Gripping your phone in your palm to cease the outright noise, you clench your jaw in preparation, letting your thumb hover over the green phone icon so long you have to rush to press down before the call times out.

“Hello?” you breathe into the receiver, the muffled sound of a Seinfeld rerun playing on the mounted TV above the coffee bar.

“Y/N! Hey,” Taehyung’s rasped resonance hurries back, slightly airy as if he’d been holding his breath before you answered. “How are things going? Is everything good there? I haven’t been able to get a hold of you all night.”

You sigh again, running a hand through the haphazardness of your hair as you lean against the pastry case, holding the phone closer to your ear. “I know, I’m sorry. Me and Jess were swamped trying to get ahead on the cleaning while we had time.” There is only a small bit of solace you find knowing it’s more of an omission than a lie. 

“Swamped?” he repeats, voice almost unreadable. “Huh, well that’s nice. Every shift I worked last week totaled maybe 10 customers.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, shifting your weight. “Yeah, business isn’t the same in the summer,” you sigh, deftly avoiding the truth of your customer count. 

“Quite the bummer,” Taehyung speaks in that way he does when he’s waiting for a laugh. One you can’t help but give if for no other reason than how stupid it was. 

“Lame,” you chuckle, finding the feeling of the smile tugging against your lips rejuvenating. 

“How’s Jess doing?” Taehyung’s next question sends your grin running back to its hiding place with its tail between its legs. You’d have to tread carefully.

“She’s...” you begin, trying your hardest to sound casual. “Ya know, good.” 

Nailed it.

“Good? Hasn’t run the espresso machine without the espresso yet? Dropped any open milk jugs?” 

You’re trying to read his tone, but he sounds naive to your “omissions” so far. “Nope, no messes, broken machinery, or third degree burns to speak of yet.”

He huffs idly. “It’s only a matter of time. I’ll make sure to warn her about the christening the espresso machine likes to give newcomers when I work with her next week.”

You manage to quirk a grin as you settle into the conversation. “I’m sure she’d be grateful to hear that from you.” It was no secret that Jess had a certain affinity for Tae and his boyish charm, always dropping soapy dishes and fumbling with change when he would walk into the shop. It was somewhat endearing. 

“Hmm,” he hums idly before saying something that shoots an arrow into your stomach. “Why don’t you just give her the phone for a sec, and I’ll tell her now? No time like the present.” 

Your muscles tense and eyes close, slowly recognizing the familiar color to his voice. He also dons it when he’s asking if you ate the leftovers that no one else but you and he have access to. 

“How’d you know?” you breathe, defeated, lifting a hand to your face.  

“You didn’t brag about how much more tip money you’re bringing home with all this ‘business’ you have,” he responds casually, and you can’t tell if you’re in trouble yet or not. “You never miss a chance to be the breadwinner.” 

You chuckle lightly, cautiously, breath tense for the moments that follow. “I thought you might be...ya know, mad if I told you I was closing alone.” 

“Again,” he corrects. “Closing alone again.”

“Again...” you amend, feeling like a child on the other side of a pointed finger. You might’ve been upset, annoyed, that Taehyung is parenting you if you hadn’t been the instigator, knowing exactly how to avoid his gentle wrath and still choosing to step in its way. 

You hear an exasperated sigh seep through the phone, and you can almost see him, eyes closed, locks shaking back and forth, nose bridge pinched between his pointer and thumb. “Y/N,” he breathes. “Are you actively trying to make my hair fall out? Cause it sure feels that way. You can’t see, but I’m holding a few shiny, very luxuriously conditioned locks in my hand right now. They should not be in my hand right now.” 

You know he’s scolding you, but his personality washes through the receiver and makes you smile--something you try to hide in your tone lest he turn into more of your father. “I promise your balding is the farthest thing from a priority, Tae.” 

“Then why, why, do you insist on blatantly ignoring me every single time?” In the background of the call, you hear the soft click of a door being shut. The jangle of keys.   

“Taehyung, please tell me you are not leaving the apartment right now.” You say instead of answering him, your own eyes closing. 

“My hair is falling out, and you’re upset that I’m coming to see you? Your priorities really are out of whack.” 

You sigh and laugh in tandem, your neck almost hurting as it tries to decide which side to commit to. Annoyed or humored. “Of course I’m not upset that you’re coming to see me. I just wish it wasn’t because you think I can’t handle myself by myself.” You begin idly tracing the frame of the register next to you, twisting the key in the cash drawer back and forth. 

Another creak as Taehyung pushes through the front door of your apartment building, the sounds of passing cars whooshing through the background as he begins the trek further downtown. “Y/N, I promise I believe you are fully capable of handling yourself. It’s just with everything that’s been happening there lately...that maniac...” He trails off, breath tight. “Just humor me. I’m protective.”

You breathe slowly before answering with half a mind to roll your eyes at the fact that you almost did want to humor him. The maverick inside you fights lazily with your secret desire to be sheltered. Instead of giving in outright, you glance at the clock and make your escape for the time being with a curt, “I’ve gotta lock up. See you soon.” 

You end the call and replace your phone on the counter, moving to inform the great American author in the back that it was closing time. He gathers his things quickly, looking slightly deflated at whatever progress he had or hadn’t made during his time here, and disappears into the blackening night. With an empty store and slight prickle of annoyance rumbling in your stomach, you flip the locks closed on the front door, swiftly turn up the chairs onto the tables, and clean the final espresso port before clocking out. 

Taehyung still isn’t here, but you aren’t surprised. Your apartment is a twenty minute walk from the shop and you’ve spent all of ten finishing up the quick close. 

You gather your things in your arms and stand by the front window, taking only a moment to decide that you will meet Taehyung halfway home instead of sitting like a duck in the dark and empty space, knowing that your maverick is winning the fight now and you want to leave if for no other reason than to show Taehyung you really could handle yourself by yourself. 

You take a step, backing away from the window with pursed lips. It isn’t even the length of an inhale after you turn your back, however, before a loud and raucous slam resounds throughout the shop. You freeze mid-step, shoulders tensing immediately and eyes wide as you slowly shift your gaze behind you, already knowing what you will find when it arrives. 

There he is. 

Party City devil horns pointed high. Halloween makeup smudged and unnerving across his wild face. Palms planted flat and tense against the thick glass of the window. 

No one knows where he came from or why, only that a few weeks ago he made a claim on main street. A demon in human form hellbent on terrorizing the small businesses littering the downtown area in the dead of night. Somehow he was in perfect sync with the closing schedules, choosing the nights when you least expected him to appear without a warning to make himself very known and frighten the living fuck out of the witnesses. 

He hasn’t hurt anyone...yet...mostly because everyone so far has been smart enough to stay out of his way. Make it home before he showed up, if you were lucky, or stay in a pair or group which he tended to keep his distance from for whatever reason. Everyone so far except for you. Of course. 

Realizing you are still frozen and freaked, you turn your eyes to the basement door that you had been heading for in the first place--a less conspicuous way to exit and the way you had been hoping to take to avoid him altogether. He hasn’t shown up at all the last few closes you’ve done alone, and most of his appearances--besides the first time almost a month ago--you’ve only heard about from coworkers. Maybe that’s why the healthy dose of fear you are supposed to have was nowhere to be found tonight. 

It sure as hell is here now. Too little too late. 

All of a second has passed since you glanced away, but with a swift look back, your eyes come up empty of all things frightening which somehow frightens you all the more. Your breath quickens. Your saliva dries, sticking as you attempt to swallow without success.

“Ok, Y/N,” you self soothe, the weak sound you hear squeak from you not in the least bit convincing. “No need to freak out. You’re gonna be just fine. Composure. Composure.” 

You swallow thickly once more and stand up straight. Maybe he’s gone? Maybe your presence is of no interest to him tonight? You try to assure yourself of these things as you slide to the basement door, glancing over your shoulder every other beat because of course you aren’t convinced. Is the basement the safest way? What if he’s waiting down there? What if that’s what he wants you think so you’ll walk right out the front door instead? Is it better to just stay put? Can he get inside?

Deciding it’s less likely he knows about the back exit and feeling too frazzled to stay, you hurry on. The sweat lacing your palm as it clamps around the brass door handle is thick, sliding somewhat as you turn and tug it open, closing it just as swiftly behind you. In the dimly light stairwell, you feel only slightly consoled.

It’s with haste now that you descend the rickety old wood and stumble across the dank room towards the hidden alley door, grappling with the key in your purse all the while in preparation for your speedy retreat. Taehyung has to be close -- and then a spike of fear because Taehyung is outside with him. 

The basement door is opened and then closed, ushering you outside within the same moment, and as you shove the key into the lock, you fumble with your phone in your free hand, your nerves making it doubly hard to unlock it and redial your most recent contact. 

“Hey, I’m almost there,” he answers immediately, sounding annoyingly clueless to the danger he so adamantly warned against. You feel almost hypocritical as you interrupt his, “Just another minute or-”

“Tae, turn around, please,” you hiss intensely, your eyes wild around you as you creep down the narrow alleyway, not sure if you should feel protected or trapped yet.

“Turn around? But I’m almost--” He pauses, confused. “Y/N what’s going on? Did you leave? Please tell me you’re still inside.” 

“I-I-” you stutter, questioning if you want to explain your reasoning in this current moment. You are almost to the end of the ally and then it would be brightly lit streets and witnesses. Almost there.

“I’ll defend myself later,” you urge, realizing you are whispering. “Just turn around, please. I’ll meet you at the apartment.” You shake your head at yourself, upset for a random moment that you are so affected just by the sight of this human apparition. He hasn’t hurt anyone, you remind yourself. 

And then suddenly you are on the ground, your phone scattering a few feet away from you. The muffled electronic questions of Taehyung are thin and blurry in the background. You realize your vision is swimming and lift a hand to your forehead where it comes away red and sticky, shining in your fuzzy view. The asphalt had hit you hard. Confusion quickly gives way to concern and then terror as you roll to your side, head pounding. The first clear thing that enters your vision is the double point of a pair of horns leering over you. 

You think you scream, but can’t be sure. The sound melts into the night, as if it never happened, leaving you even more petrified than you thought possible. Voiceless.

You feel so helpless, bleary and bleeding, underneath the shadow of this terror, his face illuminated in the most horrifying of ways as the moonlight stripes over his dark and dreary makeup, lighting up half of his sickeningly joyed smile with flashes of silver fire. 

Another silent scream.

He’s standing over your lower half, nothing in his hands to indicate he’d been the one to cause your stumble. Maybe one clumsy moment of fear has fated you to this. No one to blame but yourself. 

He leans down, and your heart stops for a moment making breathing impossible. You try to discern if the liquid you feel on your cheek is a stream of thick tears or the blood from your forehead streaking down. Neither bring you any form of comfort or distraction from the hell spawn closing in on you. He speaks no words with the part of his sinister smile, just a ravenous snarl followed by a hyena-like chortle that tells you, “I’m having fun. Are you?”

You feel yourself attempt to move away from him, your palms scratching desperately against the black pavement beneath you, cutting and clawing your skin with a welcome pain that tries to convince you you have a chance. Only you don’t and he is on top of you again, this time reaching out, his grin deepening as his ink stained hands spread around your forearm, tugging hard.

You yelp, audibly this time, gathering just enough breath to plead, “No,” as the grimy feeling of his fingers spreads along your arm like poison. This only seems to please him further as he grips harder, pain igniting beneath his touch. 

And in that moment, a moment that feels like eternity in slow motion, you want nothing more than to apologize to Taehyung. To tell him he was right and you’re sorry and you miss him and need him and want to be protected and will tell your maverick to move out for good if it means this second of pure terror will end. You close your eyes, certain now that the liquid on your cheeks is both blood and tears. Please let it end. 

And it does.

The pain blooming along your arm subsides. The searing presence of him overtop of you is removed. You can breathe. You can move. You grasp at your chest, sucking in air like you’ve never drank a breath in your life. It’s only after multiple deep gulps of oxygen that the blurry noise in the background races to the forefront, clear and alarming.

“You fucking bastard! You sick fuck, don’t touch her!” Taehyung’s voice echos sharp and furious in your ears, and your eyes fly open to drink in the scene. He’s grappling with the demon, rolling him over as the devil fights with the growls and snarls of a wild animal, biting and gnashing his fangless teeth at Taehyung’s face before his hands are pinned on either side of him. The control only lasts a moment, though, as Tae’s anger gets the best of him and he releases one of his hands to throw a few heavy fisted punches against his target’s jaw. 

The horned man’s head thrashes to the side with the force of the impact, and you know you should feel assuaged somewhat by the karma being dealt, but the way the man laughs through the pain puts your nerves on ice. You scrabble away in a moment of clarity and urgency towards your discarded phone, a slim crack racing along the screen. You fumble once more to unlock the device.

“911, what’s your emergency?” A calm voice questions in response to your dial, the juxtaposition almost enraging against the scene you’re helplessly witnessing. 

“My boyfriend!” you cry. “He’s--the other man jumped me and--please help, I don’t know how long he can keep him down!” 

“Please slow down, ma’am,” the voice urges, only a fraction more concerned than before. You have to remind yourself that it’s their job to stay calm when the other end of their line is anything but. “Where are you now?”

“Alley!” you answer desperately. “The alley behind the shops on main street! Please hurry!”

In front of you, where your eyes are still glued, Taehyung is flung to the side with a zealous convulsion from the demon beneath him. He smacks into the brick wall next to their writhing tussle with an oof before the man is clambering onto him like a beast, his face bruised and bloodied by Taehyung’s fists. Vengeful.

A shriek rips through you and the phone drops to the ground just as the 911 operator is mollifying, “Help is on the--”

“Taehyung!” you wrack, your head empty of anything but the sight of him bracing futilely against the claws the man is using to slash across Taehyung’s forearms and face. He is trying with everything in him to buck the devil from his chest, but he has him pinned good and shows no signs of relenting, practically foaming at the mouth with unfettered hate. And that face...the evil. The rage. 

You don’t think. You don’t question your next move. You’re suddenly casting yourself from where you’d been crumpled on the asphalt, a shout that could’ve come from anyone but you tearing through your throat as you launch across the space between you and your attacker. Your hands feel the tattered fabric of the demon’s jacket before your brain catches up to you, nails digging into the flesh beneath it and you yank. 

A confused grunt escapes who is now your victim as he topples backwards and away from Taehyung. “Get OFF!” you seethe, furious, terrified, and aflame with adrenaline as you tug with the strength of ten of you and slam the unaware man into the pavement. You give him no moment of respite before you’re the one in control, pinning his arms down with the weight of your knees and laying into him with all you’ve got. Your nails are just as effective as his were against Tae, if not more-so. Blood is slick in the gashes you leave against his cheeks, neck, collarbones, blazing red against his ruined makeup. The facade of the maniac is crumbling beneath you.

You see the wild anger give way to what resembles fear as he slowly realizes the mistake he has made. At least he’s sane enough for that.

Deep moans of anguish and pleading are flowing from him now, still no words, but you don’t need them to know you’re inflicting pain. Well deserved. 

“Y/N! Y/N that’s enough!” Taehyung’s voice seeps into your red rage fueled tunnel, a light at the end that you’re not ready to reach. You feel the weight of his arms wrap themselves around your midsection, pulling with a force you can’t combat before you’re unfastened from the devil. He remains grounded. He doesn’t move to run or escape, instead rolling over with another moan as he covers his bleeding face with his hands. One of his horns has detached beside him. In the near distance, you register the sound of sirens. 

“You got him, Y/N, you got him,” Tae hushes into your ear, still holding you tight against him. It’s not until he speaks that you realize you are still struggling to free yourself and return to your karmic retribution. “Relax, Y/N, we’re ok. You got him.”

It’s then that you hear yourself crying, your cheeks now completely doused in the sweat and tears of the passed moment. You’re shaking against Tae’s chest, and as he finally sets your feet back on the ground, you crumple in his arms, all the adrenaline rushing out of you quicker than you can adjust to. He catches you deftly, holding you upright as he turns you into him, hiding your face in the joint of his neck and shoulder as he sways back and forth, ushering a calming pattern against your back. 

“The cops are here, Y/N,” he whispers, alerting you to the red and blue lights swimming a few yards away and the sound of car doors popping open. Questions shout their way down the alley towards you, but you don’t hear anything but noise. You breathe Taehyung’s scent in for all it’s worth. 

“He’s right here, officer!” Tae speaks for you both, calling towards the coming aid. The sound of clattering footsteps rushes past you, and you hear the echoed moans of the man become more desperate as he’s lifted off the ground and cuffed with a comforting click before the horrid sound disappears away down the alley and into the back of a car. It’s not until that car has pulled away and sped off, your nightmare with it, that Taehyung gently pulls back, his hands coming to cup your trembling jaw. He lowers himself to look into your eyes with intense concern, searching you. The red and blue lights of the remaining cop car flash methodically behind him, and you can feel the lingering presence of another officer nearby, waiting to question you, you’re certain.

“You okay?” Tae softens. His thumb brushes your cheek.

“I will be,” you assure him with some semblance of a smile. “You?” With a sense of normalcy returning to you, you bring your own hand to ghost against the scratch marks left in the perfect skin of his face. Taehyung tries not to flinch against the sting. You’re only pacified knowing you did much worse. “Look what he did to you...”

He mirrors your soft smile of reassurance. “I’ll be okay. It beats going bald.”

You’re surprised that you laugh, given the circumstances, but you’re grateful for it. The sound feels like a weight rolling away. You lift your hand further to tousle his very thick and secure locks. Taehyung sighs against your fingers. “Can we go home now?”

____________

“Ow.”

“Oh, sorry,” you smile apologetically as you dab the cotton ball softer against Taehyung’s skin. His eyes are closed, palms resting against your thighs as you both sit criss-cross-apple-sauce on the floor of your apartment bathroom. You’ve been tending to each other’s wounds for the past half hour after arriving home, but with every pat pat pat of rubbing alcohol and Neosporin across marred skin, you’re hit with a wash of guilt that began bubbling in your stomach the moment that cop car drove away.

You clear your throat and the lump in it. “Um, Tae...thanks again for dealing with the police afterwards.” You’ve thanked him five times already, but you can’t seem to satiate the guilty conscience living it up in your gut. “I don’t think I would’ve spoken coherently if I’d tried.”

He doesn’t call you out on the fifth repeat. He just sighs softly and smiles against your gentle cotton touch. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. I’m just glad you’re ok. Seeing you in that alley when I got there...” He trails and his smile tenses before he shakes it off, not wanting to add anymore weight to the night. “Well...it could’ve been a lot worse.” His hand tightens around the flesh of your thigh.

Your careful trail across his face slows to a stop. Taehyung opens his eyes to question you only to find your gaze fixed over a spot on the floor, eyes clouded.

“Y/N...” he whispers, reaching for your face.

“I’m sorry,” you rush, pushing his hand away. He stares at you, confused, hand frozen in midair. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.” The lump in your throat won’t be swallowed away this time.

“Y/N, don’t--”

“No, Taehyung, it is,” You urge, your voice tightening as the prickle of heat ignites behind your eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong.” The warmth wells the more you try to contain it behind the brazen tone of your voice. “If I had just fucking listened to you, we wouldn’t be sitting here on the floor wiping blood off of each other’s faces. If I wasn’t so goddamn stubborn, I wouldn’t have had to cut into a lunatic in a middle of an alleyway. Tell me that’s not my fault, Taehyung.” There is no hope of hiding the tears now as they bubble and boil over and down your cheeks, stinging all over again. You’ve had enough crying for a lifetime tonight. “You can’t. You can’t tell me it’s not my fault because every time I look at your face--” You clasp his jaw between shaking hands. “--I know it is.” 

You bite your trembling lower lip and let go of him, pressing the heel of your palms against your burning eyes. You want to hide, disappear, get swallowed up in this moment, almost ashamed to be sitting in front of him so freely. You want him to at least get mad at you. You deserve something. 

Instead of any of that, though, you feel the warm and soothing trace of Taehyung’s fingers bloom around your wrists, peeling them away with gentle force until your rash red face, swollen with cuts and tears and splotches, is revealed to him. He takes both of your hands into one of his, his free palm coming to wipe away the waterfall streaming across your skin, and you can do nothing but squeeze the warmth of him like any second it’s going to disappear. Maybe that’s exactly what you deserve after what you caused tonight. The thought of it shreds you.

“Y/N,” he calls, and you meet his eyes for the first time, a fresh flow of waterworks exploding when you see the utterly pure sincerity he wears in his gaze. “Listen to me very carefully.” He leans forward, tugging you along until your foreheads rest gently together, his hand trailing to the back of your neck where he holds you secure. It’s still not close enough. 

“Was a single decision tonight made with any intention of purposefully putting someone in danger?” 

The question gives you pause. You weren’t expecting it. “...No.”

“Then nothing--not a single thing--that happened to either of us was anyone’s fault. Do you hear me? You did nothing wrong.” His voice is like honey in your ears, his soft conviction so mesmerizing, you want to believe him. “Even had I known what would happen...I would’ve done it all over again for you. Never question that.”

You cry softly as you stare at him, utterly speechless as to how you deserved someone so full of kindness and goodwill. You don’t know if you’ll ever figure that one out.

He tips his head forward and attaches his lips to yours in a slow kiss, the feeling of it sending a wave of total calm and reassurance through you. When he pulls away, he pulls you with him until you are cradled against his chest, his legs walled around your form as you rock back and forth on the bathroom floor, surrounded by discarded cotton and open tubes of Neosporin.

“I love you,” you hear yourself whisper against him.

A content sigh from above you precedes lingering lips atop your head. “I love you,” he agrees. “More than you know.”

Through the fading sting of tears and freshly healing wounds, you really do believe him. And no amount of worry-fueled balding or strong-willed stubbornness will change that.

___________

ok, before you say, “devil horned man? really?” which many of you MAY HAVE already done I PROMISE YOU this plot was inspired by very true events at a very real job i had a while back, LEGIT someone like this exists, and i just ran with what I was given, ok thank yew.