#the only score you should be concerned about is the one you got on your algebra test!!!

[liverpool-enjoyer]

footballers reacting to a younger player calling them dad (long as hell version)

anon requested it n so it shall be!! ngl for some a the teams i simply googled "youngest player on INSERTTEAMHERE." ive never written formal fic for football so i apologize for this being iffy n also for the SHITTON of innacuracies theres bound to be. oh n also that everyone talks like a twenty year old american college student

leo:

"Thanks, dad," Warren said nonchalantly as Leo helped him up off the ground. He had stumbled a little and fell during the last part of training.

Leo only narrowed his eyes a little in response. Dad?

Poor Warren clasped a hand over his mouth, seemingly mortified. "I'm so sorry," he said, chuckling even though he didn't look like he found anything funny. "I guess I just- And then- Yeah I'll, uh, get going now." He scampered away not once looking back.

Leo got to thinking as me made his way back to the locker room. He's used to being called that; he has children of his own. But he's never considered a teammate of his as his own child. Sure, he was helpful, a mentor maybe, but fatherly wasn't how he would describe his behavior with his younger teammates.

There was only one thing to do, obviously. Ask a younger teammate.

When he got to the locker room he approached Neymar, who didn't notice him at first.

"Ney."

His friend's face brightened upon noticing Leo was there. "Yeah, what's up?" he asked, before taking a swig of water.

"Do you see me as a father figure?"

In response, Leo was met with Neymar choking and coughing. "NO, GOD NO-" he stopped to cough again and catch his breath. "WHAT GAVE YOU THAT IDEA?"

"Nothing, jeez, calm down."

---

ney:

"Woah, not like that, you could hurt yourself," Neymar told Bitshiabu. He was doing an new training excercise incorrectly, and the last thing PSG needed was a good player pulling or straining something.

Neymar took a minute to show him how to do it properly. "Thanks, dad," the seventeen year old said sarcastically. Despite the snark, he appreciated the help.

Neymar just laughed in response, but for the rest of traning the thought kept bouncing around in the back of his head. 'Dad? I was acting like a dad? Some of them see me as old enough to be their father?'

Well, he was a father, but that was different. His teammates were much older than Davi.

Oh, gosh, was he getting old?

Later in training, when he saw Leo, he grabbed the poor man by the shoulders without so much as a hello. "Leo. Do you think I'm getting old?"

In classic Leo fashion, he looked like he'd rather be anywhere than here, interacting with someone. "Well, technically we all are... You're older now than you were yesterday, so I guess you are get-"

Neymar let out an exasperated sigh, unhappy with that answer.

His next victim was Sergio, who's phone conversation he interrupted to ask him the question of the day.

"Do you think I'm getting old?"

"You interrupted my conversation with Lukita to ask me if-"

"JUST ANSWER."

"SURE, I GUESS. I DON'T CARE."

Damn. Neymar was gonna have to get hammered tonight. To prove he still has it in him.

---

milly:

"What about you, Milly? Any fun weekend plans?" Andy asked. Some of the team were talking about the plans they had for the free weekend they had coming up.

"You bet; I have a date with my new book and chamomile tea."

This earned him a few eye rolls, most noticably from Trent. "Aw, that's so boring! Robbo and I are hitting this new club Saturday night, aren't we, mate?" he reached across the kitchen island to fist bump his friend. "Surely you've got something more fun in mind."

"I might fire up the grill if the weather allows..." Milly started. "Oh, and I should probably get my car checked out; it's been making this weird noise."

"Yeah yeah, we get it, dad, you're boring."

Milly didn't hesitate. "I am nowhere near old enough to be your dad," he said with his typical snark.

"You do act like it though..." the previously quiet Alisson chimed in, peering at his friends from over his coffee mug.

"And you're no spring chicken either," Milly remarked, which shut the goalkeeper up. "Will you lot ever get bored of the 'James is old' joke?"

"Aw, don't be like that, mate," Andy said with a hearty laugh, putting an arm around Milly's neck and ruffling his hair. "You know it's just because we love you!"

Milly sighed. Yeah, he did know, he supposed.

---

kdb:

"I mean," Alvarez said between passes. "You're practically his dad."

Kevin rolled his eyes for what was probably the third time during that conversation.

"Ah, shove it, you know I'm not that old."

"It's not about age," his younger teammate responds, accepting the ball Kevin passed to him. "You're always like... I dunno, dadish."

Kevin just gave Alvarez an absolutely bewildered look. "...Are you actually saying these words?"

"I'm serious, mate! You're always, y'know, taking him out for ice cream after training, making sure he gets home safe, whatever that means-"

Kevin brought up a hand to rub his temple. "Oh my gosh, I don't see him as my kid. Can't I just be nice?"

"No."

"Shove off," Kevin said playfully.

An amused grin crossed Alvarez's face. "Speak of the devil."

Kevin turned to see Erling walking up to the pair.

"Hey guys!" Erling said with a polite wave, and Alvarez waved back.

"You need anything?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah, actually," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you think you can give me a ride home after training? Jack drove me but he had to leave early."

"Of course, no problem," he replied without hesitation, and clapped a hand on Erling's shoulder for seemingly no reason.

Erling nodded happily in response. "Thank you, dad!" he said with a bright smile, before walking away as if what he said was completely normal.

It was taking everything Alvarez had in him to not start rolling on the ground with laughter. "What was that about not being his dad?"

"Shaddup."

---

luka:

It was actually Luka who started it.

Everyone entered the locker room very happy, fresh off a 44th minute goal from Rodrygo that had earned them the lead. The young player received hugs and claps on the back from pretty much every player. The attention was well deserved; the goal was a beauty, after all.

One of the last players to congratulate him was Luka. "Good job, hijo!" he said, hugging his teammate. "You were brilliant out there!"

"Gracias, papa," Rodrygo said, casual, even though he had never called him that before. "But it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't set me up for it!"

"Aw, aren't you the sweetest," said Luka, smiling proudly as he ruffled up Rodrygo's short hair beyond repair.

Rodrygo reached up in a futile attempt to fix his hair, and even though it wasn't said out loud, he got the feeling that he could call Luka that anytime he wanted.

---

luis:

Training had long since ended, and everyone was in the locker room, gathering their belongings and talking amongst themselves.

Luis and Kauan had been making small talk, with Luis telling his youngest teammate about some of his exploits and giving him some pointers.

"Y'know," Kauan eventually said. "You kinda remind me of my dad!"

Luis immediately burst into laughter, but it was out of genuine joy rather than condescension.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, not bothering to wait for an answer. "I'm not that old, kiddo. Now would your dad do THIS?"

Before his teammate could respond, Luis had taken Kauan into a light, non-painful chokehold n given him the strongest noogie he could muster, sending Kauan into a fit of giggling.

When Luis had mercy on the kid and let him go, Kauan needed a minute to catch his breath and compose himself.

Kuan gave Luis a sly grin. "Y'know, my dad does that to me all the time!"

"Damnit."

---

lewa:

It wasn't Gavi's day. Or his week, and it wasn't shaping out to be his month, for that matter.

He didn't know what was wrong; he just wasn't playing like his normal self these past few games. But the crushing blow was this game in particular, when he was subbed off in the first half due to his performance.

The atmosphere in the locker room after the game was still positive, however, as they had won. But Gavi wasn't participating in the celebrating and joking. He had changed and was just sitting by his locker, just... thinking. He hated sulking like this. He felt like he was being dramatic. Maybe he should go.

He didn't notice someone had approached him until he heard his voice.

"Gavi?" Robert asked, voice laced with concern. "What're you doing here all by yourself?"

The younger player just shrugged, blinking away tears that definitely weren't forming.

"May I?" Robert asked, gesturing to the spot next to Gavi on the bench.

Gavi just muttered a quiet "yeah," and Robert sat closely next to him.

Robert took a good look at Gavi, and for a moment he was reminded of his girls.

"You don't seem to be too happy with yourself," the man said.

"Can you blame me?" Gavi asked, trying not to sound sarcastic.

"Well, I understand. But I don't think you should be so hard on yourself," he put an arm around the young player. "You're talented, Gavi, and you're only going to get better from here. You just had a few rough weeks; it's not permanent. And I'm saying that because I really believe it." He smiled warmly at the young man.

Gavi would be lying if he said he didn't feel just a little bit better. He found himself resting his head on the other's shoulder.

"Thank you, dad. I mean- shit, I-"

Robert just chuckled in response. "It's ok, really, I'm honored," he said, holding the other just a little tighter.

---

sergio:

"Hey, dad? Do you-" Vini shut his mouth quickly after he realized what he had just said.

Sergio was on him before the young player could even apologize. "I'm sorry?" he asked, feeling kind enough to at least give the young player a chance to explain himself.

"I don't know, I guess I just got my wires crossed, or something-"

"I thought so. Just don't let it happen again," Sergio said, sounding less angry and more just... irritated. And with that, he left.

Much later in the day, Sergio found himself at Luka's place eating dinner with his teammate, as was pretty much tradition after training.

"Y'know," the team captain said between bites of what Luka made him. "Those kids of ours are really improving. I mean, they were always talented but, y'know..."

Luka just smiled and kept his thoughts to himself. He knew if he made mention of Sergio referring to the young players as their kids, he'd deny it faster than you could say Madrid.

---

pep:

"Don't overwork yourself, Cole, I don't want you getting hurt," Pep said to the young player. It was Cole's first training back after recovering from an injury, so he was prone to hurting himself again.

"Sure thing, dad," Cole said sarcastically.

Pep simply blinked at the young man. He had been managing a long time and had been called many things by all his players over the years. But this was definitely a first for "dad."

After a few seconds of silence, Cole could tell that his attempt at a joke was not well received. He simply stared at the man staring back at him, waiting for whatever stupid prize awaited, and kind of hoping he would just die right now.

"Laps."

Cole's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Hm?"

"Laps."

"Uh... don't you think that's too exerting? You just said I should take it e-"

"Laps!"

And without another word, Cole took off running. It wasn't until three laps in that he realized he never asked how many of these things he should do.

Shit.

---

klopp:

"We've won our last five matches," Darwin said.

"And it's raining outside, so traning will be, uh... Not as good," chimed in Harvey.

"And we promise to train extra hard tomorrow! Don't we, lads?" Cody asked, turning to his teammates, who nodded furiously in response.

"I still don't know if you can afford to miss it; training every day is important," Jurgen told the boys. There was a new movie out that the boys wanted to forego traning to go and see. Rather than sending one person to him to be The Negotiator, the boys thought it was better to approach him with their request all at once.

"But papaaaaaa!!" damn near all of the teammates chimed at once.

Jurgen clenched his expensive-ass teeth. These boys always knew how to get to him. He loved being reminded that they loved him and saw them as a father, as someone to be trusted and depended upon. He couldn't even remember when they started calling him that.

He loud out a long, overly-dramatic sigh.

"Fine."

In return, he received a chorus of cheers. An onlooker would think these boys just watched their teammate win them a penalty shootout.

In no time at all he was swarmed with hugs and "thank you, papa"s from too many of the boys to count.

The boys all stopped at the door when they saw their gaffer wasn't following them.

"Aren't you coming?" Alisson asked, eyes kind and welcoming.

"Do you want me to?" questioned Jurgen, looking at his boys' faces for signs of approval. Most of them just rolled their eyes at the suggestion that they didn't want him to join them.

Alisson approached him, took him by the arm, and dragged him to the door himself, Jurgen laughing while following him.

"Of course we do, papa."

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Who is This? - Bucky x Reader

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky had a wife during the 40s, she was left heartbroken after the telegram arrived (missing, presumed dead). It's surprising when 80 years later, she was working behind a bar in Madripoor of all places!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 2

Bucky followed Sam and Zemo into a loud bar, he immediately wanted to turn around and go home, why had Zemo demanded he go back to being the Winter Soldier (even if it was one night)?

The sound of heavy drums and guitars also deafened his hearing, a song he had come to learn was The Wild Boy by a band called Duran Duran. A few bartenders and waitresses were walking around, there was only one who stuck out to him - a dark-haired young woman who reminded him too much of his departed wife.

His heart breaks even more, thinking of the woman he had left behind, his girl. The love of his life. Bucky doesn't think he will ever 'get over' her.

The way the young woman walked, carrying a tray of empty glasses (before being tossed an empty bottle by a patron), was so similar to the way his girl walked in the hole-in-the-wall diner she worked in.

She wasn't quick enough to duck under the bar before they got to the door leading upstairs (which was coincidentally next to the bar), Zemo was talking to the bouncer. "Excuse me, gentlemen," the young woman said, squeezing between the back of Zemo and the front of Bucky. Which is when he got a good look at her face.

There she was.

His girl. His wife.

He couldn't even say anything to her, as he was taken upstairs and away from his girl. He could only hope he would be allowed back in at the end of the night to see her.

Y/N Barnes made her way behind the bar, glancing up at the TV where the Kansas City Chiefs were currently playing the Buffalo Bills at Arrowhead Stadium, then down at her phone which showed the live score of the Dodgers game against the San Francisco Giants.

She had been a long-time Dodgers girl, even after she found out they had moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles.

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Yasmine asked, pushing a dry Martini in front of a 26-year-old woman.

Y/N looked up from the glasses she was putting in the dishwasher. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"One of the men who went upstairs. The way he was looking at you," Yasmine fans her hand for dramatic effect. "I would drop my panties for him in a millisecond."

"Like you don't do that every night."

Yasmine rolled her eyes and served the next half-drunk who had come to the bar.

"Don't listen to her," Anastasia told her, rolling her eyes as Yasmine flirted with her current flavour of the week.

"It's not often I do, darling," Y/N replied, fiddling with Anastasia's curls for a second, before spotting a patron. "What can I get for you, darling?"

He hung off the bar, obviously far too drunk to understand what was going on. "Another beer and your phone number," he slurred.

She shook her head, reaching over and grabbing him another beer. As far as the boss of the bar (whoever that was) was concerned unless they were unconscious- why should you stop serving them? Y/N thought it wasn't right, but no matter how often she voiced this - she was shut down.

She set the beer in front of him and then went to the register to add it to his bill (good thing she currently has his credit card behind the bar).

"Oi, sweet cheeks!" He calls, but Y/N doesn't pay attention looking over at Yasmine and Anastasia with a raised eyebrow. "Sweet cheeks! I asked for your number."

Y/N replied by simply raising her hand proudly displaying her engagement and wedding rings to the drunk. It was only a small diamond (given Bucky worked on the docks before he was deployed), and the plain band she inherited from her great-grandmother.

"What's the matter with that 'un?" He hiccups. "He got you costume jewellery or somethin'?"

Y/N shook her head. "I'm going into the back for a moment," she tells Aidan.

Little did the drunk patron know, all those years ago, this was the date she was handed the telegraph - putting in such blunt words. Her James was missing, they presumed him to be dead. It breaks her heart that they never got to have a proper funeral.

"You alright, honey?" Elizabeth (another one of the waitresses) asked, she had been outside on her break. Elizabeth was the only one who knew her true age and about her James.

"It's the day I found out James was missing," Y/N said, before bursting into more tears.

Elizabeth wrapped Y/N up in a hug, everyone oblivious to the fact that Y/N's presumed dead husband was now running through the bar, flocked by Sam and Zemo, and into the alley behind the bar.

When Bucky was sure Zemo, Sam and Sharon were asleep, he slipped out of the safe house and into the night - determined to find out if the woman he saw in the bar was that of his (presumably? should be?) dead wife.

He eventually made his way to the front door of the bar, the bouncers had long since gone home. He could see lights on in the building and just about make out words being spoken thanks to the Super Soldier serum running through his veins.

He grasped the handle and gave it a push, the door hadn't been locked, as it gave beneath the slight push.

He could see three young women sitting on the bar, a man who was counting the money from the register and another man who was dancing.

The young woman sitting closest to the bar, had golden curls hanging around her head. "Mark, you didn't lock the door!"

The man dancing, Mark, looked over at Bucky, eyes widening when he saw the size of Bucky. "I say we just serve him, then lock the door behind him."

As the bartenders and waitress argued amongst themselves, Bucky's eyes never left the woman in the middle. It looked as if she had been crying. "Babydoll?"

The woman stopped giggling, tipping her head back to normal and looked at him, before dropping her glass as tears welled up in her eyes. "James?"

The curly-haired woman gasped, setting her glass down and giving Y/N a push off the bar.

Bucky held his arms out to catch her as her feet landed on the floor. He couldn't stop looking at her big eyes, he'd always loved her big expressive eyes. He always knew how she was feeling by just a look in her eyes.

"James? Is that you?" Her hand came out slowly, and shakily, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her.

"Hi, babydoll," Bucky smiled, tears starting to fall down his cheeks, a heavy sob held tightly in his chest at the moment in time. As soon as her fingers met his skin, Bucky let out a heavy sigh of relief, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. Y/N's arms dug themselves away from his chest and up around his neck before her hand soon started fiddling with his hair.

The couple stood there for a moment, finally finding their slice of peace. Some came barging into the bar, and the dark-haired woman who had been sitting on the other side of Y/N practically demanded Mark lock the door before the Hounds of Baskerville came in.

Y/N was so happy to finally have her James back in her arms, but there was a whirling sound she couldn't let go. "What's that noise?"

Bucky looked from his wife to his arm and back to his bride. "I'll explain everything to you later, but... I lost my arm, and I now have a prosthetic one," he tells her, letting go of her for a moment so he could take his glove off and show her the black and gold Vibranium one he had made.

"Ok, James. It's a good thing you gave me this," she reached beneath her top and pulled a ring out from beneath, hanging from a chain. "Before you were deployed."

Bucky smiled, cupping her face so he could kiss her. Bucky pulled away chuckling a little. "Babydoll, will you please put my ring back on?"

She reached behind her to unclasp the chain, and slid Bucky's band off, "if it doesn't fit we'll get it resized."

"I don't care what size it is, as long as you put my ring back where it belongs," Bucky almost growled, a piece of him falling back into place with the ring back on his finger.

The next morning - Sam, Zemo and Sharon came into the living room, seeing Bucky sleeping on the sofa (Sam was expecting this, after being told by Steve), however, there was a lump lying next to Bucky they didn't recognise.

Sam slowly makes his way over, gently easing down the thick blanket lying over Bucky and the lump.

Lying there, practically on top of the 'bionic staring machine' was a young woman.

"Did he somehow pick up a girl?" Sam whispered. Sam and Sharon were trying to be quiet - however, Zemo (who didn't care) started clattering around the kitchen, causing Bucky to wake up in a start, which then caused the young woman to look up with tired owl-like eyes.

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.

Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"

Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."

[pomefioredove]

heyyy! i really love your writing🥹🥹 btw can i request a hc with riddle and jamil (separated) with gn!reader who’s very lazy and they have a test and only study the morning before the test? but somehow pass?? i wanna see their reaction

anyway sorry if i made any mistakes, this is my very first request and english is not my first language😔 it’s fine if you can’t do it!!

-🎲

no worries! this is a great request, their reactions would be very funny

summary: reader miraculously passes a test they last-minute studied for type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, jamil additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is not specified to be yuu, reader is gender neutral, not proofread

Jamil knew that it wasn't his place to judge

after all, being raised with the al-Asims, he'd been taught to keep his bitter thoughts to himself

but something about your carelessness reminded him all too much of Kalim

...okay... maybe you weren't exactly partying, or spacing out, but your complete lack of conviction is almost identical

and, so, Jamil decides to give you a word of advice the day before the big exam

"Worried about tomorrow's History of Magic test?"

he even gives you a big smile, trying to play it off as a casual question

you shrug. "Eh, not really,"

"If I were you, I'd be a little more concerned. The grading system is very strict at NRC,"

and with that, he's gone

his sly remark, spoken as if in friendly conversation, leaves him feeling a little more satisfied with himself

he doesn't even feel irked when Kalim nearly sleeps through the test, or when he forgets his notes, or when he absent-mindedly reads the questions aloud during...

in fact, Jamil is quite confident that in any case, you'll do much worse than Kalim, which saves the both of them

after the exam scores are posted in the hall, you find him

"What did you get?"

Jamil hates answering these kinds of questions, especially knowing that he could be in the top of the class if he was allowed to try. "Passing. And you?"

"Well..." you smile. "I really thought about what you said, so I studied this morning."

Jamil's sour mood at his own score seems to lighten

you studied the morning of the exam? oh, this was going to be rich

"...And I got full marks!"

...what.

you show him the paper and it takes all his strength to keep his usual poker face

otherwise, his jaw would drop

"How did... how?"

you shrug. "Good study plan, I guess,"

"Hmph," he crosses his arms. "Well, then... you'll have to come tutor Kalim sometime. What works for you must work for him,"

Riddle spends the entire week pestering you about studying

"I just don't feel like it," you groan

goodness. you sound just like that terrible Floyd...

"It's not a matter of want, it's a matter of need. This exam counts for a significant amount of your grade!"

"Eh... I'll just wing it,"

wing it?! oh, now you've really done it

"Consider yourself lucky for not being a part of Heartslabyul. I would have your head for that!"

and then he storms out. how graceful!

when he sees you the following afternoon, that calm, unbothered look of yours is still on your face. it drives him mad

"If I were you, I'd be praying," he says. he's almost smug about it

Riddle earns full points on every exam- it's just a given. he's sure that the two of you will be on polar opposites of the grade spectrum once the results are posted

you shrug. "Yeah, about that... I thought about what you said, and decided that I don't want to have to retake this class. So I studied this morning,"

he almost smirks. "One last-minute cram won't be enough to raise your grade above failing, I'm afraid. But perhaps this will serve as a lesson, next time you-"

Riddle stops dead in his tracks as Trein posts the exam results on the wall behind you

his eyes widen

"Full... full marks?! We're in the same percent!? How is that possible?!"

You chuckle as his face goes all red, both frustrated and flustered

"Hey, you should count this as a victory for yourself. You give great advice,"

[haddonfieldwhore]

talk me down - vince dunn

vince dunn x gender neutral! reader

summary: after a late game penalty and a frustrating shootout loss, vince is in a bad mood. good thing he has you to make him feel better

warnings: mentions of violence, langauge, angry vinny, a bit of angst but mostly fluff

word count: 1.2k

as the whistle blew with only a few minutes left in overtime, you ran a hand over your face in frustration as a penalty was called on your boyfriend, vince dunn, for deliberately whacking another player with his stick. while there should have been a call for the opponent holding and tripping vince, the way that vince had reacted was unnecessary. you’re making it worse, you thought, as he punched fiala in the face, nearly hitting him with his stick before the refs separated them. even in the stands you could hear dunn swearing his head off, and you were shocked he didn’t get more than a 2 minute penalty for what he’d done. thankfully los angeles wasn’t able to take advantage of the extra man on the ice and score a goal, but things went to the shootout and eventually the game ended in favour of the kings.

a cloud of disappointment hung heavy in the air of climate pledge arena as kraken fans filed out, without a win but still with a point as the players left the ice. you sighed as you stood up from your seat, the other players wives and girlfriends who had been at the game also getting up to go find their partners. they were talking about the game, and while you could have joined their conversation, you were more concerned with vince. you made your way to the back and waited impatiently for him to come out of the locker room.

after what felt like forever - the team surely having had a long talk with their coach about the events of the game - a familiar curly haired brunette emerged from the doorway, a scowl on his face.

“hey,” you said softly as you stood up, walking over and grabbing his hand gently. to your surprise he didn’t pull it away, but didn’t say anything, simply tilting his head in the direction of the exit. getting the message that he just wanted to go home, you nodded, walking with him out to your car and getting in the drivers seat, and the two of you began a silent drive home.

when you arrived home to his house, he went straight upstairs without a word, and you heard the sound of a door slamming upstairs as he disappeared into your shared bedroom. you grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen, your fingers anxiously tapping the granite counter tops as you sighed. you hated seeing him like this; beyond frustrated and tired. you knew he would never do anything to hurt you, you also understood that it was best to give him some space and time to cool down when he got like this. you took a seat on the sectional in the living room and scrolled through different apps on your phone, avoiding anything you saw about the game. about 15 minutes went by before you began to yawn, and decided to head upstairs to find vince.

as you walked into the bedroom, you saw him laying face down on the bed, his head at the wrong end. his one arm was hanging over the edge while the other was folded under his head like a pillow. he had discarded his clothes except for his sweatpants, and you admired the toned muscles of his back that were on display as he lay turned away from the door. it was clear he had just collapsed onto the bed, the blanket barely covering his legs and crumpled from being kicked aside. you quietly got changed into some shorts and one of vince’s t-shirts, before padding over to the bed and sitting down next to him.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by his arm and the mattress. reaching towards him you brushed your fingers through his messy curls, shaking your head, though he couldn’t see you.

“you don’t have to apologize to me,” you assured him.

“i still am.”

“i know,” you replied, moving closer to him as you let your hands travel down to his shoulders, gently massaging the tense muscles. he shivered slightly at the feeling of your hands on the back of his neck, but then sighed softly as you worked at the knots in his back, trying to relieve some of the tension from the game. you spent about 10 minutes in silence, and you were honestly beginning to think vince had fallen asleep, until he spoke again.

“i’ll be lucky if i don’t get suspended or fined,” he said, groaning softly as you kneaded a particularly sore spot on his lower back.

“yeah,” you agreed cautiously. “i’m sorry, vinny; i really don’t know what to say.”

“now who’s apologizing?” he laughed dryly, and while it was bittersweet, it was the first hint of a smile you’d heard in his voice all night. “i fucked up, i have to deal with the consequences.”

“that’s true. but they should have called a penalty on the other guy.”

“yeah well i guess they thought otherwise. i didn’t exactly make the situation any better. i think i owe joey an apology for sending us to the shootout,” he gave another halfhearted laugh.

“i wouldn’t say it’s your fault it went to a shootout. give me your other arm,” you instructed, having finished massaging the arm you could reach. vince rolled over onto his back, looking up at you as he extended his right arm into your lap.

“i guess it doesn’t matter in the end,” he sighed, watching you as your hands ran up and down his bicep, soothing the tired aching beneath his skin.

“you guys still got a point,” you said optimistically, trying to look on the bright side of a shitty end to the night. vince smiled at you, the admiring gaze going unnoticed as you continued pampering him.

“yeah,” he mumbled, as you lifted his hand, playing with his fingers gently. “thank you.” you finally looked at him, his eyes tired but full of love as he stared back at you.

“anytime,” you smiled warmly, and giggling softly as vince opened his arms for you to crawl into. you laid down next to him, letting him pull you into his side as he stared up at the ceiling. you closely admired each freckle and detail of his face, and if life were a cartoon your eyes would have had hearts popping out of them.

“i love you,” you spoke quietly, placing a few kisses on his cheek. he turned his face toward you, your foreheads pressing together as he bumped his nose against yours softly.

“i love you,” he whispered. “i don’t know what i would do without you,” he admitted, kissing the tip of your nose, and then your forehead before pulling you closer, tucking your head under his chin.

“you’d have a stiffer back for one-“ you were interrupted by your own laugh as he tickled your side, and you smiled as you curled your body into him, inhaling the scent of his body wash that lingered on his skin from his post-game shower. “okay - okay i’m done.”

“goodnight baby,” he squeezed you tightly in his arms before reaching over and turning off the lamp next to the bed. a wave of tiredness washed over you as the darkness in the room enveloped you, and you quickly fell asleep.

vince laid awake for a little while, listening to the tiny snores that fell from your lips as you slept. whatever repercussions were to come from tonight, and whether they had lost the game or not, he had you, and that was a win in his mind.

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[gentlyweeps-world]

always with you

summary: they promised to always visit you.

pairing: logan sargeant x fem! reader | oscar piastri x fem! reader

warnings: death

genre: angst | sad

notes: oops? I was feeling something sad 😋

words: 820

follow up

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

No one imagined that in 2023 something like this would have happened.

The driver's safety had evolved, thanks to Jules Bianchi, no one expected another fatal death after his. Sure injuries, but certainly not a death.

Logan and Oscar didn’t expect it. You had been one of, if not the most, determined person they have ever met.

It was only your rookie year. Just one year.

You three had known each other since karting, and through the ranks. Constantly battling each other and hanging out.

Then you guys made it to Formula One, everyone’s dream. It was unbelievable.

You had made history, well- and Logan.

Oscar to McLaren, Logan to Williams and you to Alpha Tauri.

It was finally coming together.

The season went well for the most part, you had scored some points, not many, but that was expected.

Although there was one race you were dreading, Qatar.

“Guys…it’s way too hot out for this..” You say with a groan, leaning into Logan.

“Yeah so don’t lean on me..” Logan mutters out, gently shoving you off him. In response you let out another groan, just leaning back into him.

“Shut up..” Oscar mumbles out, scrolling through his phone, looking at something.

“Hey Osc..we qualified well, right? Do you think we could get on the podium?” You ask, looking over at the Australian.

“Maybe”

That night you guys didn’t get on the podium.

“Y/n, do you need to retire?” Your engineer asks, concern evident in his tone. You didn’t sound good, you didn’t feel good and you weren’t driving well.

“No! No- I’m okay, I need to do this..” You respond, head already starting to spin as you grip at your steering wheel.

“It’s okay to retire, Sargeant did..”

You wish you had listened.

“No I’m okay”

You weren’t okay.

“Right, just let us know if anything is wrong”

Everything was wrong.

“I will don’t worry”

You didn’t.

The ringing in your ears got louder, you could feel the sweat start to drench your balaclava. It was disgusting.

You could hear the thump of your heartbeat, even your breathing as you gasped for air in the humid atmosphere.

Your hands started to shake, dark spots forming all around as you let yourself relax. You needed the rest, didn’t you?

Your foot stayed on the pedal, it didn’t matter, you were all the way down to P17 (last with the dnfs) with seconds, actually minutes, separating you from the pack.

In the moment you felt peaceful, well you had passed out, but it was peaceful.

You couldn’t hear the worried shouts from your engineer, or the questions from the commentators.

You couldn’t see the barrier you were about to crash into at full speed.

Numbness. That was the one word to describe it.

Every driver pitted. The race was off, really it should have been off in the beginning, it was too dangerous and it showed.

Logan freezes in his place, still in his FW45 in the garage, watching the TV show your AT04 in flames and in pieces.

The TV cut to black, it was too visual.

Oscar didn’t know what to do, actually no one did.

Maybe it would be another miracle? That’s what Haas hoped.

It wasn’t. It didn’t look like it.

It dawned on Oscar and Logan, they had lost you.

Logan didn’t get to confess his love.

Oscar didn’t get a chance to share a podium with you.

It didn’t feel real. Everyone was silent.

Logan unclenched and clenched his fists, tears forming in his eyes as his throat tightens up, he wanted to scream, he wanted to help you. He didn’t want to be useless anymore, he didn’t want to take up space.

They knew what happened. They knew the halo couldn’t have saved you this time. They knew.

“Hey Y/n…it’s been a year..we miss you, everyone does..” Logan says, voice cracking as he tries to contain his emotions.

“Osc and I are doing well…he’s doing much better than me but hey- you’d probably do way better than us..”

He lets out a sigh, “I miss you Y/n. Oscar does too, he didn’t want to come visit, didn’t want to bring down your spirit, whatever he means by that..”

“I had so many things I wanted to tell you..” He mumbles out, voice starting to break once more. Logan takes in a deep breath, blinking away his tears. “I wish- I wish I could have held you in my arms once more..”

“If only you knew..” He whispers out, finally setting the flowers down by the barrier.

“Osc and I will do better for you, we’ll always be with you Y/n, we’ll always visit you..” Logan says with a sad smile, looking longingly at the barrier before he walks away.

Everyone missed you. Even the guys on the grid you didn’t talk to.

They wanted to witness you make history.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

radio 🪩: no comment

permanent taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187 @hannahwsworld @sltwins @itsprashimusic

[auspicioustidings]

https://www.tumblr.com/auspicioustidings/734619885087375360/i-cannot-write-for-shit-right-now-so-any-little

Hmmmm I’m seeing so many x single mom readers and not sure if this is something you’re even interested in BUT

Simon meeting his pretty new neighbor while she’s moving I and realizes she is either a.) heavily pregnant or b.) has a very young baby so Simon goes “hmmmm mine now :)” and helps her out a little? (Alternatively, if you don’t wanna do Simon for this, then maybe Price?)

(Also if you haven’t read @peachesofteal’s Light On fic, Simon x single mom reader, I implore if you to do so!!! It’s so good)

Peaches Light On fics, and I am being so deadass serious, give me such a flood of serotonin any time I see a new one. Everyone get your butt over there because they are the standard for single mother content as far as I am concerned!

That being said, I've put a bit of a twist on this so it's not really what you requested at all, sorry :') I could not do a similar idea to Peaches because there is nothing I can do to improve perfection!

Tactical Action

Words: 1.1k

CWs: mentions of death

“It's not a shame Price, it's fucking ridiculous.”

Simon Riley was furious looking at the paperwork. It wasn't often that TF141 kept tabs on a promising rookie so when they did he expected nothing but excellence. What he did not expect was a large ‘Early Service Leaver’ stamp over an otherwise exemplary record.

“Their brother died in that warship collision, can't blame them for wanting out.”

“My brother was murdered, I kept fucking going.”

He had met you once when Johnny had dragged him. His Sergeant was both excited and annoyed that someone had gotten the new record for the 3rd selection phase. It made sense to get some feel for you then, if you were as good at escape, evasion and tactical questioning as the test scores suggested then the 141 needed to have you on their radar because the PMCs certainly would. 

You were a determined thing, shoulders back and addressing them with just the right amount of respect. Not arrogant, but not a pushover. Soap had been talking about how much he wanted to get his hands on you the whole drive back to base because he was a horny idiot and you were a challenge he found intriguing. Simon had just rolled his eyes and added your record to the small pile in Price's office. 

He knew a little of your background. Both parents gone, one sibling in the navy. Well one sibling now KIA. He could have understood taking leave, but to quit entirely? It made him angry, he thought it was a waste of potential. Price could see how it affected him and he sighed. 

“Go talk to them then. But do not get yourself reported for harassment and intimidation Simon, if they don't want back in then we make our peace with that.”

That was all the permission he needed. He probably should have taken Soap really, someone who could be comforting and coax you back. But fuck it, you were supposed to be good under pressure so he was going to give you some hard damn advice on not bloody giving up.

–

Exhausted didn't even begin to describe how you felt. This was the hardest thing you had ever done, but you were not going to just give up. You couldn't, not with this tiny thing relying on you. 

She had never even got to meet her parents. Your brother died just before the due date in that accident and then his girlfriend had died from complications in childbirth. You had promised her you would look after their baby if anything happened, made an oath that you'd not let her parents anywhere near such an innocent little thing. 

So you were on your own with nothing but grief and exhaustion and an ever dwindling death in service payment. They would pay part of your brother's pension out each month at least for the baby, but you were terrified that it wouldn't be enough to give her a life she deserved. She certainly deserved her parents and not her fathers ill equipped sibling, but you could only do your best even with the knowledge it would never be enough. 

You flinched when there was a hard knock at the door of your flat, freezing but taking a breath when the baby remained sleeping in your arms. You needed to move at one point you knew, a flat in a bit of a rough area was fine for a soldier (ex-soldier you reminded yourself) but not so much for a baby. 

The security you had upgraded as best you could at the moment and you checked the door camera to see Lieutenant Riley. Ghost. You had met him briefly once, but what was a legend like him doing here? Shit. You knew you looked a wreck but it wasn't like you could ignore him so you opened the door, bouncing baby girl gently to keep her sleeping. 

Simon's planned tirade died the moment he saw the situation. You had a baby. Oh that changed his tirade significantly. Your marital status had listed single, so he could only assume you had gotten yourself knocked up by some casual hookup. That was unacceptable in a soldier, so bloody stupid. 

“Shit” you cursed when she woke up, heading back inside and giving him a nod of invite.

You bounced her and tried to coo at her to go back to sleep. To please God go back to sleep. You never knew what she wanted, it felt like whatever you did was always wrong. And of course then she started wailing and the Lieutenant was in your flat closing the door behind him witnessing your absolute failure to take care of a baby. 

“Oh for Christ sake, give her here.”

Simon took the baby and hoisted the little thing up onto his shoulder, rubbing hard at her back. 

“When was the last time you fed her?”

“I- well, just before you got here. 10 minutes ago maybe? Just got her to sleep.”

“Did you burp her?”

“Oh. I…” you replied, straining yourself in an attempt not to cry. “No. I forgot.”

While his eyes were sharp on you his hands and voice were gentle and soothing for the baby. He was good at this. Did he have kids? Fuck was everyone just innately good at caring for babies but you? 

“Didn't stop to think if you could take care of her before having her?” 

“She's not mine. Well I suppose she is. I'm her only living relative, or only decent one at least. I, um… that warship accident from a few months back. My brother died during it and her mum passed during the birth. I'm her legal guardian now. I'm what she has sir, it was the best tactical action given the circumstance” you said, straightening up despite your exhaustion and prolonged terror at being responsible for such an innocent little thing. 

Simon cocked his head to the side as the baby on his shoulder burped and gurgled, now trying to get back to sleep. You were still a soldier he saw then, you were fighting back your emotions to give him a report on the situation. He reevaluated after the sitrep and took a moment to find the best course of action.

“Marry me then.”

“Sir?”

“We can get it done tomorrow. Might take a bit of time to get a decent house but we'll stay in my flat until then, better area. Still going to be out on assignment a lot but any death benefit would go to you and the widows pension would set you up for life. I'm what you have rookie, it's the best tactical action.”

“Yes sir.”

[perrywrites]

Aaaaahhhhhh!!!! Your writings are so good! Can I ask for Ness, Kunigami, and Nagi to fill out the roster for the “mumbling ‘i want you inside me’” blurbs you got going on? If you’re not too busy of course! Idk which characters exactly you write for tho so it’s cool if you forego Ness or smth

YES, I was already writing Shidou, so I wrote Nagi and Kunigami with him as well. The cutie Ness will have to wait his turn (if there is one, I'll see if I'm inspired) 😞😞😞 BUT ALSO, having Kunigami and Shidou on one list feels illegal and wrong ngl LOLOL, thank you so much for liking my writing 🥺🥺🥺

Absentmindedly murmuring that you want him inside of you during practice part 4;

NSFW 

Includes; Nagi, Kunigami, Shidou

Part 1 (Isagi, Hiori, Bachira) and part 2 (Chigiri, Reo) and part 3 (Barou, Kaiser) and part 5 (Sae, Rin, Karasu, Otoya, Yukimiya)

Nagi: he only knows you’re here when Reo elbows him, telling him that you’re here, except this time Reo is snickering in a way that confuses him. Why is he laughing? What’s so funny about you being here? Nevertheless, unanswered questions fading away in his head, he turns to see you across the field, and he waves at you - but there’s something weird about you. Although you wave back, like you would usually do, it’s not an energetic kind of wave. It’s more lethargic, hand barely raised, and something about you seems like you’re not really there. Right now you kind of seem like the zombies he shoots in his games. Concerned and confused, he blinks at your weird behaviour, but he saves it until his break. The moment he gets his chance, he’s making his way over to you, but the closer he gets to you, the more… confused he starts to feel; your state doesn’t seem as similar to a zombie’s as he initially thought. You’re certainly seeing him, that’s for sure, but your eyes are weird. They’re all opaque and dazed, as if you’re delirious from a fever of sorts. He doesn’t know why, but something about your glassy eyes makes him antsy. “... You there?” And it’s when your dreamy smile widens, your head tilting, that he realizes even before the words leave your mouth exactly what is up with you. Ah, so that’s it. You need him right now. That’s what those eyes are for, yes, he remembers. That’s how you look up at him sometimes when he’s trying to get you into bed. Except, you’ve never said the kind of thing you just said, and those sultry words send heat straight down to his cock. Something in that breathy tone of yours tugs at his heart and he becomes restless. What are you doing to him? He shifts on his feet slightly. You can’t do this to him right now. Not right now. Don’t look at him like that right now, it’s making him think of you in a way that’s going to make going back to practice really hard - pun intended. The only kind of thoughts that are sitting in his head now are all images of him making you cry on his cock, using that pussy of yours until you pass out, pounding away until your voice is ruined. And, ah, shit, well. He can no longer deny himself, it’s too hard to resist this urge and go back to practice. So when Reo comes to tell him that practice is about to start, all he mutters is a quiet “sorry Reo” before he grabs you by the arm and drags you off somewhere. You’re the one that started this, you can take responsibility by letting him go as many times as he wants, right? 

Shidou: the moment he catches that hazy gaze of yours, he’s busting his ass laughing right on the field, yelling to his teammates something about how he’s eager to score even harder with his girl looking all cute for him. Rin is the one that tells him to shut up - both of them somehow seem destined to stick together, joining the same exact league, both bemoaning their misfortune. All Shidou does is almost start a fight, taunting Rin back in response, telling him that if he’s so jealous he should stop being loveless and go get with someone already so he can hop off of Shidou’s dick already. Of course, the rest of their teammates and coach have to get involved to calm both of their asses down, and so there’s an unplanned break. Immediately, first things first, he heads over to you, all amused, noting how you’re still looking at him like that, all lovesick and yearning. Shit, damn, you’re gonna make him catch a public indecency case. “Shit sweetheart, you’re looking like you want to milk my cock, huh? Want me to bust my load inside of you or something?” Turns out, that’s exactly what you wanted, because you say that - say that you want him inside of you. Well then, he didn’t expect that - usually in the face of his desire (for you, you, only you), you had a tendency to be a bit more shy. That was nice, getting to tease you and watch you get flustered, then have you make all of those lewd sounds and faces for him - but… There was something about you being all bold and blunt like this about wanting him to fuck you that got his blood pumping. It made him want to go the extra mile in fucking you - even though he already always goes full out when fucking you -  try out new positions and breed you in each and every single one, shoot his burning hot cum right into your womb as he holds you down and your perfect pussy flutters around his cock again and again. He won’t even take his cock out this time, leave it in until he gets hard enough to fuck you again and again and again - he’ll give it all to you, he’ll get you fucking pregnant, fuck his cum into you until he’s sure of conception, shit. You want that, don’t you? Just the same as him, yeah? Of course you do, you’re just as much of a fucking pervert as him. So within a moment of you saying something that hot, he has already made the decision of pumping his seed into you right then and there. That’s why he immediately picks you up, throwing you onto his shoulder and you yelp - confused and disoriented as he starts carrying you off, warning everyone to not enter the showers for the next hour or so unless they want to hear him giving it to you good. Rin scoffs from the side, glaring, saying something about practice, but Shidou laughs, having none of it. “Fuck off virgin eyelashes, impregnating my girl takes priority~” You hear Rin muttering something about him not being a virgin beneath his breath, but that’s no longer your concern. You’ve lent fuel to a forest fire and now it’s going to burn through the whole country, don’t think you can walk after how hard he fucks you. After all, Shidou Ryusei loves invitations, especially if it’s the kind you give. Although, your biggest concern soon will definitely be how you’re going to face the rest of his teammates after they inevitably hear all those raunchy sounds you’re 100% sure Shidou will make sure you’re unable to suppress...

Kunigami: although he’s not exactly an oblivious guy, he’s not exactly the most conscious guy either when it comes to this kind of stuff. He never really knew when a girl crushed on him or swooned over his gentlemanly behaviour up until he got a confession. That still holds true even now, but you’re not exactly ever ‘subtle’ - case in point, those very obvious bedroom eyes you’re giving him at the moment. He feels his ears burn, face warm - not because of physical exertion - as he tries to ignore your eyes absolutely burning through his back. Why are you looking at him like that right now? Are you even aware of the kind of dreamy expression you’re making? You don’t seem like it. God, you’re distracting him, completely. The things he’d do to be alone with you right now - goddammit, he feels like a pervert now. When his break arrives and he goes over to you, the fervent blush only deepens - you’re still looking at him like you want him to claim you, eyes all hooded and dazed, pouty lips parted open. “Hey…” He curses himself for his awkwardness even with his own girlfriend, keeping his eyes averted from you as he rubs the back of his neck. “… You good?” Is that all he can say? Really? Wow, great going Kunigami, what a great job. But before he can berate himself any further for his awkwardness - he’s always a little shy when it comes to the more intimate side of your relationship - you say something that has him sputtering, eyes wide as he looks at you. Did you - did you really just say that? The way your lips twitch up into a small smile is enough of a confirmation, and he feels his heart beat intensely beneath his broad ribcage. How do you - how do you just… say things like that. “You… You sure do love to tease me, huh…?” And then he falls silent, shifting on his leg as you giggle lightly at his words, the sound of your voice making him shiver slightly now. Do you even know what you do to him? How you make him want to push your legs up right into your chest and just pound away? Fuck you into the bed as you cry out his name? Claim you, over and over again, make you sore and exhausted as he uses your body until you’re full of his cum. Fuck, god. He should be thinking of kicking balls right now, scoring goals, but instead his head grows empty and blood rushes down to the wrong head. Why are you like this? Why do you do this to him? He curses beneath his breath, willing the wrong head to go back to sleep, and he catches you staring at the bulge all yearningly and - ah fuck, he can’t play like this. He grabs your hand and pulls you up. You’re coming with him and helping him deal with the ‘problem’ you caused, okay? Hopefully he can get a quick round in before the break finishes, or well, if he can’t… He might as well fuck you for as long as he pleases.

Also I finally realized there's a character limit per block thingy LMFAO, I couldn't figure out what was the problem the last two times and just did 2 characters I'm such an idiot 😭😭😭

[sinisterexaggerator]

Hancock x F!Reader [ A03 ]

Summary: You are important to John Hancock; there is a radstorm brewing. As a skilled and reformed scavver, you’re after a part for a decommissioned lounger—it belongs to Doc Amari’s famed Memory Den.

Hancock's tense; he should have gone with you, but it’s not too late to search you out. He would be glad to have you home safe in his arms, only things don’t always go as planned, nor do you go unpunished for your negligence.

Explicit: NSFW / 18+ for PWP, PiV sex, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, whump / hurt and comfort, angst, gun violence, light bondage, praise, light sub/dom undertones, edging, use of chems, alcohol, foul language, and canon-typical violence and behavior. Other worthy mentions include fluff, romance, a worried and protective Hancock, and love confessions.

Notes: I am normally a Star Wars writer. This is my first time writing for Hancock, and my first fic for the Fallout fandom. I see Hancock as multifaceted, which I am having fun exploring. I have many ideas, but one fic can only contain so much! I used a few lines of dialogue from the game because they stuck with me T__T. I will also most likely try my hand at Nick Valentine at some point, (and maybe even Coop), but this ghoul stole my heart.

6.8k+

Feedback appreciated. Like? Reblog! <3 Requests accepted!

Eyes as black as tar pits searched the ground at his feet, though no answers would present themselves, the cold, grimy filth of the Commonwealth something he could relate to on an atomic level. Flecks of barren soil and bits of detritus vaulted upward in a stagnate aggregate of dust, cavalier leather boots—having seen better days—leaving a swirl of varied particulates in their wake.

Hancock paced, the Mayor of Goodneighbor impatient as a hungry mole rat, the man left to stalk before the door that led to the Financial District. A dreary, dark green pall signaled to anyone with brains that there was a storm looming on the horizon, and yet you had not returned.

“Where the hell is she?” a raspy voice asked its sparse audience, two ghouls dedicated to his cause doubling as bodyguards, though if he felt safe anywhere, it was here among his brethren.  Besides, it wasn’t his safety he was worried about, it was yours, and he wasn’t afraid to convey his feelings to the whole of town.

“Startin’ to get antsy. Gotta hand it to her, she’s got me sweatin’ like a whore in church over this. Hope she’s havin’ fun at my expense.”

Scavenging was lucrative, or it could be if you managed to score the right loot. You had to know where to look, or where not to look; danger was always in the cards. It was a game Hancock didn’t like to play, and especially not now, not when lightning streaked the sky, rain clouds pregnant with radiation threatening to burst open like a feral’s head looking down the muzzle of a sawed-off shotgun.

He knew what it was like to be forced to scour the bare bones of buildings, filching anything that was ripe for the picking. A single find could feed a man for weeks, and places like Goodneighbor just didn’t just build themselves. People needed things. Lucky for them, Hancock was able to provide. It was his one claim to fame—his rep was solid—but he didn’t look down on you for being one to scout for buried treasure.

“She’ll turn up,” one of his companions offered. It was a piteous attempt to console him, Hancock all but ignoring his dismissive comment. He felt his concern was obvious, yet his bedfellows were none of their business. Either way, he brushed it off like a decent man instead of snapping like he wanted to—the guy’d done nothing wrong.

Thunderclaps echoed through town, the first of many droplets pelting his marred face, the ghoul’s faithful tricorn not doing much in the way of shielding him from the dirtied water that had begun to trickle down onto its weathered surface.

He rued allowing you to go out on this wild-mongrel chase to begin with, not to say that you weren’t capable. What he might say is that you’re too good for this world, too good for him, but that hadn’t stopped him from falling head over heels.

You weren’t anti-social like most of your kind; you had a good heart, gave paying customers fair deals, and somehow you had kept the ruins from tarnishing your cheerful outlook; you sported a chipper disposition even at the worst of times.

In other words, you were his little ray of sunshine; Hancock had no qualms with telling you that to your face. And things as precious as you were to him? They needed protecting. It was becoming more obvious by the minute that he should have done the job himself.

“If this is her definition of ‘fast,’ we’re going to need to have a little chat to clear a few things up. Should have fucking gone with her, don’t know what I was thinking,” fried vocal cords scratched out, words tinged with worry as he made his way to the reinforced slab of steel that was Goodneighbor’s single entry point, not counting the alley behind Rexford.

“Maybe you weren’t thinkin’ at all, John…” that little voice inside his head nagged at him, reminding himself at every turn of the ways he’d failed, this on the verge of being one of them.

“Want us to look?” the other rejoined, aware you had been sent out on a job to find a replacement circuit board for Doctor Amari, as one of the memory lounger’s had been marked out of service. The doc would pay you well; everyone’s gotta eke a living somehow. Hers was made by sellin’ a man’s own memories back to him, and yours was made by sellin’ spare parts.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t have skipped out on his Mayoral duties for one evening, Hancock mentally scolding himself, his sentiments leading him toward the need to kick his own ass.

Quick, adept and clever, he had no doubt you could pull it off, but you were used to traveling in a group, used to back up and a lookout. You had willingly ditched your crew and settled here for him, making Goodneighbor more or less your permanent home. He couldn’t help but feel like he was ultimately responsible for you and your well-being—so far, so good. He’d be damned if anything happened to you on his watch.

The coming radstorm was starting to sound like a stampede of angry Brahmin. Not even those of his ilk should be out in this mess. Technically immortal, sure, but not immune to accumulating all that bad stuff brewing in the atmosphere; he was comfy right where he was, but not without his lady by his side.

Their self-elected leader ignored the question, reaching into the confines of his red frock coat to unveil the firepower hidden just out of sight. His break-action, double-barreled 12-gauge had most of its stock removed for easy concealment; he knew better than to step foot outside Goodneighbor without packing heat.

“No, you might say this is a personal problem. Not to say she wouldn’t make a damn fine Ghoul,” he stated with deadly calm, kicking the door open with reckless abandon despite his unflappable demeanor, not caring what awaited him on the other side.

“I’m going with you, ain’t safe,” words spoken over harsh winds, a breeze not in the least bit refreshing having descended upon the Commonwealth as Hancock slipped out into the mounting tumult, both men following close behind. Truthfully, he was grateful for their loyalty.  

“Suit yourself, but don’t go gettin’ yourself killed. Would defeat the purpose of a search and rescue, ya feel me?”

A question not needing a response, he ventured forward, running headfirst into the growing tempest, chaos reigning overhead in the form of a blinding light show.

Hancock called out for you, yelling your name over the deafening commotion that was going to get worse before it got better, not about to go home empty-handed, even if it took the whole damn rest of the night. He hoped you were smart enough to know when to quit, or that you’d taken those Mentats he’d stuffed in your pocket on the way out.

“Get back here, scavver!”

Footfalls echoed in the dark, brisk in pace, inky, depthless eyes narrowing as the ghoul searched out the source. He had taken no more than half a dozen steps before he was forced to witness you at a full-fledged run, two burly raiders belting out insults and expletives hot on your trail.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, but he was stone-cold sober, time standing still as you dove into Hancock’s open arms.

“There’s my girl,” the scoundrel purred into your ear, sinewy limbs enshrouding you as the sound of gunfire and discarded ammo casings nearly went unnoticed. Hancock let his own weapon fall to the ground to accommodate you, your pursuers dispatched like the trash they were. The members of the Neighborhood Watch who had accompanied him outside the walls made short work of both men; they deserved a drink and some chems on his dime.

“John,” you breathed out, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling with mirth as you held up that piece of scrap you were so proud of. His name off your tongue was musical, a warm sensation spreading through him like wildfire, better than drugs—it was a high he would never come down from.

“I—I got the part,” you spoke softly, your tepid breath tickling the remnants of a disfigured ear.

Hancock almost shivered.

But oh, no. He wasn’t about to let you off that easy, not when he’d felt that pang of anxiety and the sickening feeling in his gut like someone had shanked him with his own knife. He held you back by the shoulders, breaking your embrace, his face taking on a displeased, stern shade.

“What’s wrong with you, huh? Makin' me all kinds of nervous. Scarin’ me half to death. And some might say I don’t look too far off.” He breathed in nice and slow, exhaling through exposed nasal cavities, Hancock emitting a sigh to emphasize his disappointment. “Can’t be doin’ things like that, or you’re liable to give this old ghoul a—”

“—Sunshine?” His heart sank, as if the universe was out to prove he had every right to worry, Hancock’s attention inexplicably drawn to the red staining your fingers—it neared the color of his coat. You only now seemed to notice, that radiant light swept from your beaming face as you acknowledged the presence of your own blood on your hands; no wonder it had been so hard to take those last few steps.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, eyes blown wide as you apologized for upsetting him. You would collapse into a heap, the adrenaline that had carried you home seeming to dissipate all at once—at least your fight-or-flight response had done its duty.

---

“Move over, out of the way. I ain’t askin’ twice,” Hancock seethed, the distraught man’s threat to bowl over anyone who stood in his way not to be taken lightly, though his tone was traitorously even and his despondency well-masked. He stormed the Old State House, ascending the spiral staircase to the second floor, carrying your limp body to a tattered red couch.

Refuse and empty Jet inhalers, along with half-drunk bottles of alcohol and boxes of Mentats, were all swept aside, Hancock throwing open cabinet doors and dislodging drawers in his haste.

“Oh, you’re really in it now, aren’t you, sister? Just had to make a few extra caps!” he chided, the ghoul’s husky voice rising in volume as he took to another part of the room.

Having not yet succumbed to blood loss, you were barely cognizant as you fought to stay awake, your beloved Mayor nothing more than a blur of motion and splotches of red as he systematically searched every nook and cranny for the syringe that would save your life.

“Hang on, dollface, you’re not dying today. Not if I have anything to say about it—and you know how much I love to run my mouth.” Hancock spoke to reassure you and himself, filling the silence with something other than the curses he wanted to dish out every which way to the wind. You couldn’t help but to smile again despite your predicament, eyelids drooping as you thought about the idea of sleep.

“There you are,” he growled, your vision starting to glaze over, though you were aware Hancock had come back to your side. His scarred, yet deceptively handsome face hovered inches above your own; it was an acquired taste you had no trouble in accepting.

“This is gonna hurt, but it’s better than the alternative,” he provided in short warning, withered fingers fumbling to unbutton your top, exposing first your sternum, your ribs, and then your belly.

“Shit, they got you good,” Hancock grumbled, your hand rising to cradle his jaw as he had peeled back the flaps of fabric to inspect the wound in your side. You were surprisingly calm, thinking that if today was your last day on Earth, at least you had been blessed to experience his company. 

“I’m glad it’s you here with me,” your voice, meek and mild, declared. Hancock hesitated for one precious second, caught off guard, but pleasantly so.

“Don’t go gettin’ sentimental on me! Ain’t like these are your final moments or nothin’,” he assured, an audible tremble causing his words to waver, voice rising in pitch. He went on to stab you without ceremony, the needlepoint of a stimpak and its revitalizing medicine at once injecting itself into your damaged flesh and pulsing through your bloodstream.

You moaned in pain, hips arching as you lifted slightly up off the cushions before you settled once more, allowing yourself to finally relax as Hancock watched the regenerative process take hold, much to his relief.

---

You awoke, finding yourself supine atop a mattress, with Hancock crossed legged on the floor beside you. He had brought it down from upstairs, wanting you to have somewhere more comfortable to recover; the drifters weren’t using it, but he was sure he could scrounge another one up should the need arise.

The door was shut, the rest of the room empty, the man teetering off the edge of a high he wished he could prolong; he had pumped himself full of all those things that made him feel better. Riddled with guilt, he had imbibed both chems and alcohol, his body slightly swaying from left to right as he could not sit entirely still, yet he was too far off in his own head to notice you had come back to him.

You shifted, realizing he had draped his frock across your body to act as a temporary blanket. This simple gesture caused a flutter behind sore ribs, biceps activating so that you might push up and rest on the flat of your palms.

John was idle, near-dead to the world, eyes closed as he kept up that gentle rocking, back and forth, as if lost in music or in deep meditation. You only desired to watch him, studying the intricate, striated patterns of his ravaged flesh, gazing over the hollow of his once human nose, and admiring his sullied, foppish tunic that was a part of his infamous ensemble.

While some might consider him a monster, he was a being of light. He had superficial, obvious flaws, but he was no more guilty of sin than anyone else in this day and age. He was a beautiful soul, inside and out, and your opinion was the only one that mattered to you. Hancock always tried to do the right thing—it’s what drew you to him—even if that meant taking out a few loose ends. 

Your heart stirred, natural chemical processes taking hold that would prompt you to touch him, your hormones dictating that you wanted this man carnally.

The ghoul’s eyes bolted open as you shuffled forward on your behind; you set his coat aside almost reverently, folding your legs like his, knees brushing as you leaned forward to kiss his wiry lips. Soft flesh against textured skin, rough in comparison, felt no less wonderful, Hancock groaning out a throaty sound of appreciation as he slowly shut his eyes again.

That was all the encouragement you needed, pressing closer, crawling onto Hancock’s lap as his hands found the meat of your ass to give it a squeeze. “Someone’s feelin’ better…” he quipped, allowing himself to lie back on the floor. His smile was lackadaisical and content, his touch roving to your thighs as he gazed up at you, noting you were tugging off your already unbuttoned top to reveal your shapely breasts.

“How’d a guy like me get so damn lucky…” he drawled, Hancock’s normally assertive way of speaking temporarily replaced by a calming cadence—it was dreamy—his indolent tone arousing your most base instincts.

You didn’t answer at first, thinking you’re the one who’s lucky. You had wanted and needed a change of pace, not happy with the way your business partners were operating, willing to bring death to others in order to get what scrap they could. You only took things from the ruins, or from those who deserved to be robbed, the idea of senseless violence proliferating thanks to people like your ragtag group something you decided you couldn’t live with.

You’d come to Goodneighbor looking for work; Hancock had been willing to give you a chance, and you didn’t disappoint. After a few heady conversations and risqué flirtations at the Third Rail, you had wound up in his arms—a place you found yourself never wanting to leave.

“I could ask you the same question,” you finally muttered, grazing his mouth, kisses repeating, small pecks placed from one side to the other in a physical show of adoration. The ghoul laughed a wry, salacious little laugh, head turning to allow for this impromptu bout of affection, stretching one arm out behind his head to act as a pillow as he relished the attention.

Then, his smile faded, the chem’s effects lingering like background radiation, less intense than before—the high lasted mere minutes if that, his faculties gradually returning. The hand left free gingerly touched your side, just below where he had administered the stimpak hours earlier. Concern was apparent in glistening eyes, so dark and lovely, starry pupils reflecting the faint luminescence of his surroundings.

“Not lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he promised, every shred of levity fleeing to be replaced by austerity, low, somber notes causing a visceral reaction as the onset of something warm and fuzzy spread throughout your core.

“Bein’ out here with me? Means you don’t gotta work, but I should have had your back, sunshine. Ain’t got no excuse.”

“You can have me on my back,” you playfully retorted, the simple suggestion unleashing a purr from the bowels of the ghoul’s throat. The idea of being a kept woman pleased you, but you were more interested in pleasing him.

“You better watch your mouth, or I can’t be held responsible for all those things I’m going to do to you,” Hancock countered. He talked big game, but he was still feelin’ shook. He didn’t want to risk getting too frisky on the off chance your body needed more time to heal; you were only human, after all.

“I’m shaking in my boots,” you simpered. Hancock was quick to snark back.

“I know that’s a lie, ‘cause you’re not wearing any.”

You gasped as Hancock flipped you without warning, pinning both your wrists to either side of your head. He drank in the smooth, supple flesh of your curves, hungry eyes making damn sure to get their fill.

He couldn’t stop himself, exploring the swell of a perfect tit, Hancock’s mouth becoming newly acquainted with the sensitive flesh of your nipple. He flicked its pert tip with the point of his tongue; you brazenly rolled your hips as you tried to contain the lewd sound that threatened to escape you.

“I double dog dare you, ” you tempted, not in the least bit afraid of what he might have in store.

Hancock didn’t take the bait.

“Don’t want to hurt you, love, but let’s say I give it to you nice and slow… Or as slow as I can give it; hard to keep promises, lookin’ the way you do,” he argued, ruined lips applying pressure as he began to suck, his growing erection gently grinding into the meat of your thigh.

“You won’t hurt me.” You shuddered as he pulled back, gazing into murky, otherworldly eyes, their glow hypnotizing. You half-assed a struggle, wanting to pull your hands free if only to touch him, Hancock chuckling mildly at your efforts.

“Don’t be so sure, ‘cause I got a hankerin’ for human,” his voice dropped emphatically lower, toying with you, his dire inflection sending tingles down your spine. Coming from a ghoul, most people would run the other way, but you knew from experience, Hancock had a twisted sense of humor—it was something you loved about him.

“Eat me,” you jeered, snapping your teeth playfully like some creature that roamed the wasteland, Hancock pulling his head back just enough to satisfy you, as if he had a nose to bite off to begin with.

“That’s the plan, sister,” he snickered, finally releasing his grip on your arms.

You took the opportunity to take hold of Hancock’s already tousled vest, guiding him down to meet your lips. Your fingers busied themselves with its unbuttoning as the ghoul had his hands full, cradling the plump, healthy tissue of your blushing cheeks in the crooks of his palms.

Hancock fed a grating moan into your mouth before asking a pointless question he already knew the answer to, not one to miss out on a chance to have his ego stroked. “Somethin’ about me.. turnin' you on? Don’t know why you’d go for this ugly mug,” he conceded, fishing for a compliment. 

“You. You turn me on,” you whined plaintively, “everything about you,” you confessed, furling your tongue around his, willing him to shut his trap long enough for you to kiss him properly. He aided in the undressing, whipping his sash off in one fell swoop, an idea blossoming only to come into fruition shortly thereafter.

“That why you’re actin’ so desperate for me?” Hancock laced that bit of ragged flag around both your wrists, constricting them once more, his own arm extending to tauten its hold. He wouldn’t give you the chance to kiss him the way you wanted to, cinching its loose ends around the legs of the coffee table just behind your head, giving it a good tug to make sure you couldn’t break free.

In reality, it would have been easy to wiggle loose, but he knew you were the type to play along.

“What are you doing?” you asked, feigning alarm. The ghoul only grinned a shit-eating grin, crawling backward across your lap to adjust to a better position for his next course of action. 

“Makin’ sure you can’t skip out on me,” he said matter of fact, a mischievous lilt to his voice, “gonna have to punish you for all that worryin’ you made me do.” 

“But, Hancock—” you protested, realizing he was barring you from the one thing you wanted—full access to his person, unable to grope and caress all those parts of him you were so eager to touch and kiss.

“—Hmm?” he hummed, the bastard having the nerve to stand. He left you in a recumbent position with hands tied, unable to do anything but gaze up at the seductive set of motions he was now subjecting you to.

The ghoul painstakingly unfastened the remainder of his buttons, wizened digits fondling each in turn, his manner suggesting something that for now would remain unspoken. Then, Hancock shrugged his vest off, allowing his arms to hang as the garment dropped silkily to the floor. It was followed by a festooned shirt, leaving the man bare chested and amused; he wasn’t sure you had blinked even once.

“Like what you see?” he asked lazily, tracing a line across his gaunt pecs toward his navel with the curl of a finger, black eyes glinting impishly at the sight of you jostling your wrists as you failed to liberate yourself.

“Yes,” you breathed out shamelessly, unable to deny the effect his little striptease had on you. This in and of itself was torture, finding his brand of punishment entirely unfair.

“Good,” Hancock crooned, doing the unthinkable as he vanished from view. He even went so far as to walk beyond your peripheral vision. Instead, you were reduced to listening out for him, the ghoul shuffling around somewhere behind you. 

“John,” you whined, sitting up and scooting back against the coffee table the best you could. You endeavored to crane your neck, hearing the clink of glass preceding other innocuous sounds, the gentle thud of Hancock’s boots echoing across the rotting floorboards as he made his way back around. 

“You can say my name all you want to, princess, but it ain’t gonna change a damn thing,” Hancock stressed, words clawing their way out of cracked pipes as he nudged your knees apart with his foot; he knelt between your legs, a dispenser of Jet in one hand, and a dose of Rad-X in the other. “Open wide,” he instructed. 

You should have known what he’d been after, the drug-addicted ghoul popping the lone anti-radiation capsule inside his mouth after dispensing a heavy spray of the illicit substance into his lungs; its potency was limited in his case, but you were easily susceptible to its high. 

You gratefully obeyed, wanting any excuse to be close to him, Hancock’s silver tongue molesting you as easily as it had persuaded you to listen. He deposited the pill into your mouth, kissing you deeply, your beloved Mayor giving you a shotgun of thick, odorous chems without so much as a single protest on your part. 

Your heart thrummed, Jet leeching its way into your bloodstream to trigger a bodily response via your nervous system. In the meantime, you had almost forgotten to swallow your dose of Rad-X, Hancock prompting you by trailing the full length of your throat with a single, sallow finger. 

He massaged it down, feeling for the activation of those muscles that would help ferry it along, his thoughts drifting to the memory of his cock once upon a time being slopped on by the wet whorl of your tongue. His prick had throbbed almost painfully, sequestered snugly inside your zealous gullet, the powerful suction of your hollow cheeks threatening to wrench his soul from his body, or it sure as hell had felt that way.

He was drawn back to the present moment by the look in your eyes, your pupils dilating to rival the circumference of dinner plates. You gazed at the man before you; Hancock pulled back the edge of your bottom lip, exposing your gumline, the ghoul snaking another of his fingers inside your partially open mouth. 

The slender extremity would bypass your blunt teeth, saturating itself in your saliva. Even in this state, you had the wherewithal to pucker up, intaking that explorative digit to the knuckle, your plush maw behaving like a deluxe pre-war vacuum cleaner. 

The ghoul shuddered, though keeping his cool intact, lost in the depths of your unwavering stare. He slowly slipped back out, releasing your lip for it to snap gently back into place, Hancock satisfied with the knowledge you had swallowed the pill.

“Look at you, bein’ such a good girl for me,” Hancock praised, speaking in a low, sultry whisper. You did not reply, your desire for the man at its all-time high, that warmth in your belly having spread to complement the unparalleled ache of your loins.

“Hancock,” you whimpered, once more tugging at the cloth that bound you. You felt delirious with longing, your heart racing as you saw stars, euphoria overtaking all of your senses. You pushed forward, halted partway by that fucking flag that had you fettered like some common criminal, too blazed to even think about squirming loose. 

“Please,” you begged, lips reaching for his. Hancock evaded you, trailing a divot devoid of cartilage across your sateen cheek, directing it toward your lovely, intact nose. 

“Please, what, sister?” he ruthlessly teased, watching as your tongue tried to skirt his teeth; its vertex barely met its goal. Still, Hancock would return the gesture with a sweep of his own, flitting his against yours, inhaling deeply the scent of Jet off your breath as he was suddenly consumed by an almost feral need to taste your neediness—it was nearly palpable. 

“Please.. touch you? Please kiss you? Please.. fuck your pretty little hole?” he asked in a derisive tone, though his movements were languid, Hancock in no rush to oblige you, even as his veiny hands glided over every inch of your sleek skin.

“Is that what my little ray of sunshine wants?” the ghoul taunted, moving to unbutton the clasp at the top of your pants, then pinching the pull of your zipper, teeth parting to reveal clean cotton. You were nearly embarrassed by how damp your panties were, the chems only making your arousal ten times worse; Hancock wasn’t helping matters, a lecherous moan reaching your ears as the man slid back and realigned himself, bending forward to bury his face in the moist outline staining your skivvies.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet—” he marveled breezily, “—is it all for me?” Hancock rasped, nipping you through the fabric, a desiccated finger tucking itself into its elastic hem. Hancock dragged it down just far enough to expose your sweet-smelling sex, the ghoul’s tongue slithering easily between slick folds. 

You inhaled a disjointed gasp for breath, voice cracking as you cried out in ecstasy, Hancock having barely swiped your thrumming clit. That alone was almost too much, your hips bucking beneath him of their own volition as you pleaded with him to keep his promise.

“Don’t tease,” you sighed, naked breasts rising and falling with every labored breath. Hancock’s eyes traveled up your fine as fuck body before meeting your gaze, a twisted hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his ghoulish mouth. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he snickered, fingers grasping the entirety of your waistband to help you shimmy off your bottom layer of clothes. Your hips wriggled all too desperately, overjoyed to finally be free of their constraints. 

“But that’s not fair!” you entreated, unabashedly spreading your legs in the hopes of providing him a suitable meal, ready and willing to be devoured if you could only convince him to take the plunge.  

“And why not?” he asked in all seriousness, nuzzling into the lush flesh of your labia as his silky tongue entombed itself, gathering your moist heat from its source. He dipped back out to your chagrin—you had inhaled sharply in preparation only to be left disappointed—Hancock licking a stripe to the cusp of your throbbing bud. 

“Because I’ll die,” you replied, overexaggerating, writhing in bliss, albeit temporary; Hancock seemed out to drive you mad, retracting once more to glance back up at you, reedy lips downturned in a disapproving frown. 

“No, you won’t,” he asserted, voice taking on a sobering, sincere quality; even if you were being hyperbolic, after the events that had just transpired, Hancock didn’t find it funny, resolving to dine on you good and proper, as if it would be the thing to save your life. 

“I—” You were cut off mid-thought, lightning crashing thunderously outside, the ghoul introducing two coarse fingers into your clenching cunt as the radstorm raged on. Hancock’s neck sank low as you arched your hips, the flat of a thick tongue bringing you toward rapture as he succinctly lapped your clit in delicious combination, playing you like some Old World violin. 

“Aren’t you glad you’re trapped in here with me instead of out there cookin’ alive?” Hancock asked offhand, digits curling to find the seat of your pleasure, warm, wet muscle dancing slow, precise circles across your sensitive nerves. You halfheartedly yanked at your bindings once more, wishing for nothing more than to ravish him like a woman starved, deprived of sustenance. 

“Yes, yes— please, just like that,” you answered, urging him on, the man encouraged to keep at it, long, languorous strokes titillating you toward release.

Then, he simply stopped, fingers glossy upon exit, Hancock sucking your slick clean off with a scarecrow smile, tilting his head like a curious animal as you bemoaned your plight, left to suffer on the edge of an orgasm. 

“Relax, I ain’t through with you yet,” Hancock remarked, lifting himself up to a seated position on his knees. You whined indignantly, made to watch as he unbuckled and unzipped his own pants.

The rogue stood completely, giving you another show, kicking one boot off after the other before slinking out of the rest of his clothes. 

You took a moment to admire him, skin pockmarked with scars, deep pits of tissue missing where cells had inevitably healed all too quickly, John a mosaic of gnarled, misshapen flesh and keloid. Yet he was so handsome, charming, and cavalier, the man leaving nothing on but his tricornered hat, returning to his previous enterprise by way of interring his roiling tongue into your aching center. 

“Oh, John,” you murmured, voice hushed, the man’s thumb working itself concentrically atop your little pearl. 

For once, he was quiet, his strokes inside you meticulous, the nearly silent room filled with a plethora of obscene sounds as he feasted on you like a Yao guai over a fresh kill. Just a little attention was all it took, nails digging into the palms of your tied hands as you twisted beneath him, vocalizing loud enough you were sure the whole State House would hear.

A shiver rocked you to your core, riding out your climax for as long as you could stand it. You were unable to push Hancock’s head back even if you wanted to, the ghoul finding a new way to punish you, continuing to stimulate your already oversensitive clit. 

“Hancock, please—” you begged him under different circumstances, the ball of your foot gingerly pushing against his blatant hard-on. The ghoul finally let up just enough to chortle dryly, obviously nonplussed.

“Done already? Thought we were just gettin’ this party started,” he flouted, sitting up properly, probing fingers caressing the curve of your slit as they trailed upward, ghosting over your navel to tweak your nipple. They didn’t stop there, reaching just behind you to nab a cigarette off the edge of the coffee table, your expression giving away your confusion as he struck a match to ignite the end.

“No, John— you’re supposed to fuck me!” you berated, another devious little chuckle let loose from wilted lips. The ghoul inhaled a deep drag of nicotine laced with radiation, though the amount contained therein was so trivial he didn’t bat a lash—not that he had any.

He gazed at you through a thin veil of smoke exuded from eroded nasal passages—a short burst of pressure from his lungs propelling it outward—a freakish sight to some, but you had grown accustomed to it. 

“So, that is what you want,” Hancock digressed, snubbing the end of his cig on the floor after a few more laggard puffs. The Jet was wearing off, Hancock having already sobered completely, its side effects leaving you feeling used-up and exhausted. Hancock had forgotten what it felt like to come down from such an intense high; you pouted pathetically up at him.

“Baby,” you whined, immediately capturing Hancock's attention. He dropped the act, eyes softening around the edges, colorless voids somehow the most expressive you had ever seen them.

“What is it, sunshine? Feelin’ all right? Need somethin’ to take the edge off?” he asked gently, concern present in his tone, the ghoul finally being kind enough to reach over your head to free you from your bindings. 

“I need you,” you implored, your speech sounding childishly irritable, tired, heavy arms lifting to wrap themselves around John’s neck; you couldn’t help yourself, having been prohibited from touching him for what felt like hours, when in reality it had only been a short length of time. 

“I’m all yours,” Hancock vowed, whisking a stray strand of your hair away. A soft kiss was pressed into even softer lips; the man was two sides of the same coin, like night and day. Part of you prayed you would never cross him, his temper volatile, like an active volcano lying dormant until such a time the right conditions were met, inevitably causing an eruption. 

But he was also kind, genuine, and a good person, only wanting to make the Commonwealth a better place; he held within him a righteous anger, and for good reason, determined to stick by him through thick and thin. 

"Nice and slow?" you asked, bringing the conversation full circle, ushering the ghoul down on top of you as you laid back, gazing up with heavy-lidded eyes. He searched your face, as if double-checking for something, needing to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that nothing was wrong—you were only sulking. 

“You got it, sister,” Hancock replied coyly, the fullness of a finger returning to you as he tested the waters; you were still so unbelievably wet. It was a stark contrast to the dry, desolate landscape that stretched for miles just beyond his little town, the ghoul humming in gratitude as you kissed him once again. 

You wasted no time, slipping your hand between the depression of your bodies where hip meets hip, his weight a warm, inviting presence that comforted you like nothing else. Your fingers toyed with his variegated shaft, thumbing a bead of loosed pre-cum to moisten its tip; Hancock moaned lustfully as he buried himself deeper into the column of your throat, teeth raking tender flesh, barely withholding the intention to bite.

“I’m thinkin’ you must be the single best thing to ever happen to me,” Hancock confessed in a dulcet whisper, voice quavering with emotion as you carefully escorted his cock inside you, one delicious inch at a time. Jagged breaths found their way into your ear, distorted, ribbed flesh, more than adequate in length and girth, stretching you open, a subdued sound of longing and relief birthed from parted lips. 

“I love you,” you blurted out, unable to keep your feelings at bay, any and all movements ceasing before they had wholly begun.

You had closed your eyes; they fluttered open, fear wheedling its way inside your heart as Hancock gazed at you in silence. You cursed yourself, having never before expressed such a sentiment out loud, unsure how the man would take it, or if he even felt remotely the same—all signs pointed to yes, but you refused to be presumptuous. 

Then, he pushed up into your tight cunt with one slow, smooth stroke of his cock along your anterior walls, stimulating your G-spot. Pleasure radiated through you as you emitted a stilted breath, Hancock cradling your cheek, resting his forehead against yours to stare penetratingly into your eyes.

“Took you to be smarter than this, but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear you say that,” he breathed against your lips, slipping a motile tongue into your mouth, wanting to desperately deepen your connection. 

You readily accepted, your own tongue writhing and contracting in unison with his, heart beating fervently behind a wall of blood and bone. Your fingers clawed and grasped at his narrow shoulders and the tendinous flesh of his back, exploring every inch of your ghoulish lover, from head to jutting hipbone.

Hancock drove his cock into you, back and forth, keeping a steady, equal rhythm like the beat of a drum. “Why now?” he asked, voice tempered, each pump of his thick prick inside you unhurried and sensuous.

“Nearly dying may have had something to do with it,” you jested in-between indecent, muted moans, Hancock’s deliberate pace driving you toward orgasm. The arm not supporting his weight curled tightly around you. He clutched you to his chest, and you wrapped your thighs around his waif thin waist in return. 

“Mmn.. that it?” Spindly fingers moved to grip the back of your head, digging into tufts of your hair; your back bowed to support you in joining with him more fully, Hancock massaging your scalp as he massaged your insides, debauch, rich sounds filling both your ears.

“And because I have nothing to lose,” you reluctantly answered, breath picking up speed as you pushed back against firm, rawboned pectorals with the palm of your hand; you had the intention of arranging yourself at just the right angle to please— a simple slant of your hips would make things all too easy.

Within moments, you came, pinpricks of light overwhelming your senses. You were elated, as if your consciousness had been overtaken by a nebulous cloud of love and electromagnetic radiation, a soul set adrift in a swirling haze of thoughts, feelings and emotions that would amalgamate into something beautiful—it caused you to cry out a sound of intense, heartfelt bliss. 

Your mind went blank, only registering that John had simultaneously shared in the experience. It would take you both a moment to calm.

Then, you squeezed Hancock tightly between your legs, a signal for him to not withdraw, but to stay awhile, the tension in your body settling as you laid back down.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Hancock would smother you with his scant weight, caressing the point of your chin, his thumb snaking across your bottom lip. He gave a faint exhalation of breath, the concave outline of his nasal cavity grazing the convex shape of your nose; it tickled.

“Nothing to lose but each other.”

[viandclintbarton-supremacy]

Love and War (Lucy Bronze x Ona Battle x Reader)

Warning: Swearing, Angst, Fluff and Smut

Request: "PLEASE can we have a threesome with one batlle and lucy MF BRONZE. please omg I'm so done bad. Like poly relationship and shit "

"L/N on the ball, gets past Battle. Leon on their tail. GETS PAST BRONZE! L/N TO WIN!!! GOOOOOALLLLLLLLLLLLL. REAL MADRID SCORE AT THE CAMP NOU WITH SECONDS LEFT"

Your heart was racing, you were running to the craized cheers of the Madrid faithful and jumped into the crowd. You let emotion take over you and celebrate. Kids, Men and Women all hearing your name as your found yourself being carried out and dog piddled by your teammates. Them praising you

*WHISTLE BLOWS*

"Unbelievable scenes here. 2-0 to Barcelona at halftime only for the super sub F/N L/N to score the Hat Trick and snap the unbeaten streak of Barcelona Femeni. The Barcelona players cleary upset with the loss but we can't underrate the fire that L/N and the Madrid gave in the second half.

As you stood up alongside Oroz who gave you a peck in the top of your head as you went to shake hands with your rivals, you saw Alexia walk up to you "Good game, we will make you pay next time" She ruffled your hair. She clearly was upset with the lost but you two had a good friendship going since you got together with Ona and Lucy. Speaking of which you see Lucy sitting on the ball as Ona talked to her clearly mad about the defeat. You approached the duo, you loved them but come on. You were gonna rub this in thier face later. You squat down next to them "Hey good game girls, you were tough as always" you say trying to lighten the mood. Ona looked at you with a concerned smile as Lucy kept her head down. "See you at home L/N" that's not good. She got up and walked off. "Get home safe amor" Ona said quietly before chasing Lucy.

You knew Lucy hated losing. The fact she called you by your last name hurt and pissed you off. She has beaten you before and you never reacted like that even if you mad as hell. You shook you head before walking towards Mapi Leon and embraced your long time frienemy.

Lucy was fuming, She lost, She was the last line of defence and still let the ball passed her. Lost at the Camp nou, Lost to Real Fucking Madrid. Of the teams that could of beat them it was them!. They Lost because of you!. The image if your face flashed in her mind as she made her way back to the locker room. Your beautiful face. She loved waking up to it in the morning and falling a sleeping staring into your eyes. But she can't help but want to punch you right now. She wouldn't but it was how she felt.

Ona was worried. Lucy was silent with a noticeable scowl on her face. The last time Lucy lost a game was the World Cup final and she didn't treat Ona like this. In fact the roles of you and Ona were swapped, Yours and Lucy's team lost and you didn't treat Ona like this, well she thought. She didnt know why this lost hurt lucy more then the finals. Sure Ona was fustrated but thats the game and all three of you were in a relationship you would think Lucy wouldnt be mad that her partner won a match. She'walked besides her as they entered the locker room hoping she cooled down.....

Much later that night back at Lucy's house, Lucy was still in the same mood. Ona had watched her pace back and forth. Ona was waiting for you to arrive as you promised the girls you have one or two drinks to celebrate. "Lucy, my love but please sit down, it's annoying when you pacing back and forth" Lucy with her hand on her hips sighed before sitting down on the couch. "Where are they?" Lucy said cleary irritated. "They should be-"

*Door key noises*

The duo turned to the door to see the handle pushed down and open to reveal you still in your Madrid top and for you to see them still in thiers. "Hola my lovlies" you say before shutting the door and making your way to Lucy and got ready to sit next to her. You though wrong as you went to sit down "Don't touch me" She got up with a annoyed face, as you stopped on the couch with one knee on it and standing with the other leg "Excuse me?"

"You heard me L/N" She said crossing her arms at you. You gave her a suprised lock before glaring. Again with the last name "What is your problem Bronze" Her annoyed face shifted as you said her last name. "You are my problem, you don't talk to us for 3 days and then come up to us and act like nothing is wrong?" You gave her a raised eyebrow "You do realise we are involved in the of the biggest rivalries in history right? We did the same thing last time aswell. We cut contact so we could focus. So I will ask again" You step infront of Lucy. You staring into her soul "What. Is. Your. Problem........Bronze" You said in a tone neither of the girls have heard before. Lucy kept a straight face but didnt want to admit her bitterness. Ona would stand in between as soon as you mention her last name again and feeling the tension "Ok OK that's enough. We all had a tiring day. Let's relax and getting some rest" She said trying to defuse the situation. You backed up as Ona turned to Lucy "Calm down ok?" She would ask the Lioness.

"Oh of course you would bloody check on her first" You threw you hands in the air as you turned and walked to the kitchen. This time it was Ona and Lucy's turned to have confused faces. The duo followed you "What do you mean by that?" Ona would say. "Oh come on, anytime something happens that involves me and Lucy, you go to her first and treat me like an after thought." Ona looked at Lucy before back at you. Lucy was trying to recount these supposed events you mentioned. "I love both of you Y/N, equally. I always try to get to both of you when some-"

You lifted a middle finger that caught both of them off, even Lucy eyebrows raised "One. When yours truly was kicked in the by Caldentey and was semi conscious, you two were two busy protesting rather to check on me." The duo looked down, that was at the start of the relationship and it was something they regretted and hoped that it didn't hurt you but you broke that hope. "Nope you were too busy trying to convince the ref it wasn't a foul"

You held up your index finger giving them the classic two fingers. "Two. Last week when you beat my team, did either of you come up to me and say anything or shake my hand" Ona sighed and Lucy was uncomfortable "Nope, you both celebrate shook a few hands and went out to celebrate. Ignoring my texts and calls and left me alone outside until I had to walk home an sleep worrying that you two didn't get home safe" Ona was now scratching her arm, she knew that the action of that would send you paranoid and she didn't want you to think like that. It was for that reason she gave you keys to her and Lucy's house. Lucy had her hands in her pockets, she felt horrible because she would always insist that you call or text her if you needed anything and the one time you did, she wasn't there. Feeling the remorse she approached you"F/N. I'm so so-"

"Three" you cut her off as you held up a third finger and taking a swig of the beer you had opened when you entered the kitchen. Your attention fully on Ona"Back in Australia. When we lost. When me and Lucy were down. Who did you go to?"

"Lucy" She said quietly, you nodded "of course I'm not saying Lucy didn't need the comfort but when did you come to me?" You said in a innocent voice. Guilt and a sick feeling built up in her gut.

"I didn't" You smiled " Thank you." You then looked at Lucy before taking a swig if beer "And you, you said you would be there for me" You slowly step towards her "I can forgive being excited about a win and getting caught up in the fun or getting caught up in the heat of the game." You said your voice now in a tone that could be described as you are regretting your actions and even though I am pissed, I'm loving it. You stepped again "When my world was shattered and I felt like shit feeling the world watch me cry. And countless teammates and Spaniards were trying to comfort me and I saw my two girlfriends smiling at each other." You stood nose to nose with Lucy. Who calm demeanor showed signs of breaking "When we stood shoulder to shoulder and watch Ona lift the cup. What did you say" Lucy felt nauseous, one of the biggest regres in her life was what she said to you. Ona was uncomfortable and scared at the thought of whag Lucy did "What"

"Did"

"You"

"Say"

"To"

"Me"

Lucy breathed in "I said"

"We would of won if Keira was on the pitch instead of you"

Ona jaw hung low at the confession. Lucy's tried to remain calm shook her head cleary disgusted with letting her anger get the best of you. You put your drink down.

"And you are telling me, That even though I can handle all that shit that has happened. That you can't handle one fucking loss to me?" Lucy looked ashamed before you looked towards Ona who looked at Lucy with shook before locking eyes with you. "Do you think I'm in the wrong for being pissed off" She looked down and shook her head.

You walked past the duo and headed out of the Kitchen but stopped "Anyone else would leave you two if they were me you know" the two looked at you with worry "But I love you two so much that, that if I did leave. It would hurt more then the 3 reasons I just stated, combined.

You headed to the bedroom Leaving the duo, you felt light headed. Was that the right thing to say. You let months of anger out on them even if you felt justified you still didn't like to see them hurt, you took off your trousers and threw them across the room then proceeded to look for a pair of shirts to put so you could sleep. You found a old pair of England shorts and put them on before going to bed, hoping the next day wouldn't be as bad. You layed battling the emotions that were making you tired, You expressed your feelings but it left a worrying thought that you may have hurt your partners deeply with you words and attitude.

Lucy felt Ona's eyes burning into her head. Not only did Ona have to listen to someone she loves became angry and hurt, a side of you she or Lucy have never seen before but she finds out what Lucy said to you. Lucy felt sick ever since she said that, as soon as those words left her mouth she wanted to apologise and hold you close but was Stubborn. In her anger and looking for someone to blame, you were the closest and the reason at the time. She knew that you were scared of replacing Keira not on the pitch as a partner. You worried about living up to Lucy's standards after she been in a long relationship with your teammate. Her knowing this she decided to use it as ammo in the moment and hit the target. She felt a growing sense of regret for her words and actions. She knew she had taken her anger out on you unfairly then and now. Her stubbornness in the heat of the moment had caused unnecessary pain. The thought of you leaving them had struck her hard and it was a wake up call to revaluate her behaviour.

Ona, who was caught in the middle of the fight, couldn't ignore the rift that had developed between you and Lucy. She loved both of you deeply and wanted nothing more than to see harmony in your relationship. The fact that you had revealed your hurt and frustration was both eye opening and heart breaking for her. She realized that she needed to step up her game in terms of being there for you. She loved you deeply and she couldn't bear to see you hurt, especially when it was because of her negligence. She knew she had to make an effort to be more attentive and supportive in the future.

Lucy sat down in the living room couch, leaning forward with her hands together. Ona was sat next to her resting her head on Lucy shoulder. "I'm such a fucking idiot" Lucy said in a broken voice "Out of all the things I should have said. I said that." Lucy spoke with great disappointment in herself, She felt Ona rub her arm "And tonight i hurt them again" She buried face in her hands. "You are right, we should of been there more. We should of been celebrating now, but we ruin F/N's moment with this Lucia" Ona said in a ashamed voice as Lucy began fight back emotions. "What if they want to leave? I don't know how i can fix this." Ona now sat up and hugged the Lionesses side.

"Listen to me, Y/N loves us deeply. They have shown that countless times. I don't think they want to leave. Like they said leaving us would hurt them more then anything." Ona cupped Lucy cheeks "Lucia, F/N is strong, but they are a human and humans can only take so much before snapping. We just need to be there for F/N when they are ready" Lucy looked into the women's eyes "Maybe its because there are three of us in a relationship, It means more commitment and love from each other. We expect more from each other. We should be supportive, especially when one of us succeeds, just as we comfort each other in defeat." Lucy held back her tears hearing Ona speak like this made her captivated before closing the distance and kissing Ona, who responded back before pulling apart and resting each others head against each other.

Lucy sighed "You're right, Ona. I need to apologize to Y/N and make things right." Ona smiled "We, We need to apologise" Lucy gave a sad smile. "We need to let Y/N know that we love them and we're here to support and understand each other, no matter what Lucia."

You open your eyes slowly feeling something run through your hair and something playing with your hand. As the blurring vision cleared you saw Ona laying next to you playing with you hand "Morning amor" You looked up to see Lucy playing with your hair "Hey sleepyhead" You felt so happy that your girls were still there but still felt sad you may have hurt them "How was your sleep?" Ona asked kissing your hand, you glance at the window. Still dark must be early in the morning"Honestly, Nice" You gave a blunt response making the duo know you were still hurt. You felt Lucy move beside you and cupped your cheeks "Y/N," she said, her voice filled with sincerity and remorse, "I'm so sorry for what I said and how I acted last night. It was unfair, and it was a terrible way to treat you after winning the game. And for what i said at the World Cup that was sick of me to say. Please forgive me. I love you, and I never want to hurt you like that again." For the first time you saw Lucy looking like a lost puppy. She looked distraught after speaking and was waiting for a reply from you.

You felt a hand on your shoulder "Y/N," Ona began, "I apologize as well for not being there when you needed me. You're right, I should have checked on you during the World Cup. I promise to be more attentive in the future." You heard the honesty in her voice. She said it with clear passion in her voice. You looked back at Lucy who looked like she was going to cry a storm. It was clear the aftermath of last night was a wake up call to the girls. Your heart ached with a mix of emotions as you couldn't bear it anymore. You one arm each of Lucy and Ona pulling them into embrace, Ona gladly accepting, Lucy accepting and holding you in a tight grip. "I love you two." You felt Lucy soften" And I forgive you" Lucy started to slowly cry into you shoulder as Ona rubbed her back and you place a hand on the back of your head. It felt like hours you guys sat there just holding one another.

As the embrace broke. Lucy wiped her eyes as you pushed the strands of her hair out of her face, You loved it when her hair was down. Ona rested her head on your shoulder. You noticed both still had there Barca shirts on. They clearly didn't change. "Y/N, you were absolutely incredible last night," Lucy beamed, her eyes filled with admiration. "I've never seen someone turn a game around like that. You're amazing." You smiled sheepishly as Ona chimed in "Yes, you were the hero of El Classico. You made us so proud amor. You couldn't help but blush at their compliments, feeling their love and support wash over you. It was moments like these that reminded you why you cherished your relationship with them so much.

You felt Lucy's fingers graze your your thigh, giving you slight shivers. Her eyes turned evil. "But i must say" She leaned in pecking you jaw line before whispering "You may be wearing a Madrid top but you are Barca property" She said as she started to peck you neck. You felt a shiver shoot up your spine. Lucy knew how to make you submit to her advances. You tried to respond but her pecks made you stammer Ona couldn't help but chuckle at the exchange. She knew how much Lucy's teasing affected you, and she enjoyed the playful banter between the two of you. She leaned in and whispered, "Lucy's right, you did look stunning in that jersey. But don't forget who owns you. okay?" Ona then decided you attack the over side of your neck sending you into euphoria. You breath was caught in your throat as the two made break as you gave a audible moan. Lucy smirked but notice Ona.

The Lionesses grip the back of Ona hair and pulled her away from you "Did i say to do that?" You bit your lip as your favourite side of Lucy came up. Ona whilst Lucy was holding her hair gave Lucy a smirk that screamed brat. You then felt Lucy grip your jaw and aggressively kiss you and you responded lucy didn't even have to try you let her tongue overpower you within seconds. You faintly hear Ona chuckle before Lucy stopped and let go of Ona and pushed you onto bed like a Lion finding its prey and used her teeth to mark you. The intensity made you gasp with pleasure as a wetness form between your legs. As you let Lucy clam your neck Ona layed next to you, She loved to Lucy make you hers. She was like a hyena, she would try and try to have a bite of Lucy's food and pick off the left overs.

"Papi" You moaned as Lucy responded by licking your neck and gripping you jaw making her stare at you "Say it pup" she growled you as you feel her hand roam under your shirt

"Say it"

*Smut Incoming*

"Fuck me Papi" you said in a submissive voice as Lucy's smirked with fire in her eyes.. She lifted your Madrid top over you head and held it against you wrists and held your wrists with one hand above your head. You couldn't see clearly through the sheet and excitement ran throughout your body. You loved being Lucy's plaything. You heard lips smacking, knowing Lucy she is marking Ona's neck. "Do it brat" You heard Lucy say calling Ona a brat. But all of a sudden you feel a wet sensation on your left nipple making you gasp and arch up. you legs rubbing against each other as you moaned. "Good Girl" you hear Lucy say through your moans. You couldn't concentrate feeling Ona tongue flick and make circle around your nipple as you felt her leg wrap around one of yours and feeling another body most likely Lucy layed on your right side holding you down copying Ona. You then screamed with pleasure feeling Lucy's mouth on your right nipple, licking and sucking like an animal.

These girls were sending you into a moaning mess, you were tortured by your girlfriends for what felt like hours. To be honest you didn't care you loved this feeling of being controlled by two Barcelona girls. You felt Lucy leave your nipple as you felt Ona roughly pulled off you. You shirt was pulled down you see Lucy smirking holding Ona by the back of her head, holding her head between your legs. "Time to eat brat" Lucy said to Ona before pushing her head down on you. Making you moan, feeling Ona's mouth, her licks, her kisses, treating you like a meal that has even kept from her all month. Lucy laugh would send electricity through you. Lucy push Ona harder and Ona pulled your legs towards her, showing she needed your taste on her tongue. You felt the texture of her tongue run up and down you as she chuckle. Starting to feel you body. "Papi" you said looking at Lucy, She smirked at you knowing you were close. "Yes Pup?" You shiver as she traces her fingers down your waist. "I i I go- ugh gonna cum" She smiled devious "Not yet pup, not till Papi says. You start to squirm with pleasure and excitement, hearing the slurps and licks from Ona makes you feel more alive.

"Say the magic word puppy" You bit your tongue and shook your head "N-no never" She gripped your jaw making you more close "Say it now" she growled. You couldn't, you can't break your loyalty. "If you don't say it" She gripped harder. But you felt it coming in the moment you said the words that Lucy didn't want you to say. As you the orgasm take over you arched up and during released said

"HALA MADRID!"

Dazed from the amazing orgasm, you couldn't see Lucy's furious face. How dare you say that in her house. Ona's was chuckling as she licked up every essence of yours. "You fucking pathetic bitch" you knew you fucked up but you didn't care you would never pledge love towards Barcelona. "BRAT!" Ona looked up deeply breathing "Hold them" Lucy said in a tone you both understood well. You gulped as Ona pounced on you, pulling you on her and wrapping her arms and around you. "You shouldn't have said that my pet" She said before placing her lips on yours and staring to make out with you. You both battle trying to over come.

"Fucking dumb bitch" You hear before a overwhelming force entered you, you eyes bulging and you screamed into Ona's mouth. You felt you hair pulled as Lucy made you look up into her eyes "You are going to pay for saying that word in my house, you pathetic galáctico" She said before thrusting again. Making you shake on her strap. You couldn't help but love when Lucy brought your team rivalry in it, it made things spicier.

You couldn't to jolt everytime you felt Lucy pound into you, the sounds of slapping skin, Ona licking your nipples in a teasing matter. You hear Lucy groan and grunt as she found a rhythm. You knew she had a vibrator behind her strap. You feel her push your head down and without hesitation you start to make out with Ona. You moan and scream as you are being pounded into a weakened state. You feel Lucy body weight onto you making you stop kissing and gasp more as she picks speed "Who do you belong to" Lucy said as you feel her hot breathe on the back of your neck. "Who do you belong Pet" Ona said in a seductive tone. "Y-ah ah uh Y-"

"Wrong answer pet" You feel Ona bite the right side of your neck and start to mark. Lucy now growling in you ear as she thrusted harder and place her hand of the back of Ona's head and pulled her into your neck"Who do you belong too puppy" she slowly liked your ear before biting town on your left side neck and Ona holding Lucy's head

"AHHH MY OWN-ERS I BELONG TO YOU, I BELONG TO YOU" You repeat and repeat you couldn't take it, you squirmed as you release at the same time as does, making her bite down enough to draw blood. You collapsed as Ona and Lucy continue to mark your neck for another minute. You don't move you just let it happen. The two girls making sure you and others who see your neck, that you are property of Lucia Roberta Tough Bronze and Ona Batlle Pascual.

Lucy sighs and falls off you as you then fall off Ona. As you lay there mind broken, you glanced to the side, seeing Ona wasting no time as she climbed on a spent Lucy and began to ride her. You stared at the two girls you loved, you couldn't imagine not having them in your life. It was heaven. Lucy now regaining her composure started to move ger hands up and down Ona and thrusting upwards. You slowly scooted towards Lucy and draped your arm across her chest. She looked at you. "You did good puppy, stay by my side and rest" She pecked your head as you slowly fell into slumber letting the two others finish.

*Smut End*

You woke up groggily. You felt arms around you, you opened your eyes to see Lucy sleeping in front of you. you felt arms behind you, you knowing it was Ona spooning you. Thought still all naked, the covers were dropped over all three of you. This is what you needed, what you always looked forward too. Being sandwiched by the two most important and beautiful beings in the universe.

You feel back asleep, knowing you were protected in the arms of Ona Batlle and Lucy Bronze

The end

Holy shit, my first smut. I hoped it worked if not I apologise. I don't write smut so let me know how I did,it would REALLY help me knownif I did a good one or not .

How was the story too? What about Keira insult from bronze? Bringing the team rivalry into the dynamic.

Let me knownif you guys want more Ona and Lucy

[jayflrt]

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 49. #STARBUCKS_FIRST_WIN

IN A MATTER OF HOURS, YOUR COWORKER PIZZA PARTY HAD TURNED INTO A FULL-ON GATHERING. 

Not only had Heeseung and his group joined you, but the employees from Peet’s had dropped by, too. Soon, Chan and Renjun’s apartment was packed with everyone sitting in a circle and scarfing down the boxes of pizza. You thought it would just be Chaewon and Aeri coming over, but you knew things were getting serious once Jungkook, who Chaewon told you was notorious for never doing anything that required energy, showed face.

Obviously, no one expected the number of heads to double, so the pizza ran out soon after Heeseung arrived. Sunghoon took the liberty of exercising his Papa John’s employee privilege to pick up more pizza. It was even better than the pizza you all previously bought, and it was plenty for everyone to enjoy.

“Is this, like, a Starbucks-finally-burned-down party?” Wonbin asked before Aeri sharply jabbed him in the side. “Sorry, I meant an oh-no-Starbucks-burned-down party.”

“That wasn’t any better, Wonbin,” Aeri deadpanned. 

“We got our customer connection score report today,” Chan answered, finishing chewing the last of his pizza before continuing, “and we got the highest score in the district. We’ve never gotten a score over thirty before, and today our score was in the eighties.”

“Maybe they felt bad for you,” Jungkook suggested.

“Shut up.”

Heeseung turned to you, wide-eyed and breaking into a grin. “You guys got best in the district?”

“Yeah—number one! I was gonna text you about it.” Although you two were sitting next to each other, shoulder-to-shoulder, you still slid your hand into his. “We were almost tied with Starbucks in second place, so your survey really helped us.”

He squeezed your hand. “Totally worth the mermaid cosplay.”

Renjun raised his voice to say, “Riki, you should give us a speech, since you've been losing your mind over our customer connection score.” 

Minjeong, who was sitting between Jake and Aeri, let out a snicker. “Yeah, you’re the one who almost failed trigonometry over Starbucks.”

“I didn’t fail, for your information! I got a passing score,” Riki said with a huff.

Sunoo leaned back on his hands. “Yeah, a D.”

“And D’s get degrees, Sunoo,” Riki fired back before standing up. He raised up his glass of water, clearing his throat. “I was but a mere child when I first joined Starbucks. I didn’t know much about the world around me or the tribulations I’d face in my journey to becoming the best Starbucks in this district. However, today, I’ve become a man.”

(Sunghoon rubbed the back of his neck. “This kid makes me feel like I smoked a pack whenever he opens his mouth.”)

Riki continued, “I wanna thank Chan for always looking after me and being, like, my second father, even when I pissed him off every single shift, or when I used his credit card to buy LED lights, or when I made a weed frappuccino past closing hours, or when I forged his signature to get out of class, or—”

“You forged what?” Chan interjected, distraught.

“Anyway, moving on.” Riki waved off the store manager’s concerns and said, “I also wanna thank Jay for always being on my side, even when the odds were against me. And Renjun, I wanna thank you for always giving me credit when it’s due. Sunoo, you’re the best shift lead I could’ve asked for, even though I’d probably throw you under the bus for your job. Minjeong, I think you’re insane, but I appreciate that you strike fear in our hearts when necessary.” 

At that, Minjeong gave Riki a high-five, which was a little too forceful and left the kid’s hand stinging. 

Riki’s eyes then met yours and he softened his gaze. “Y/N, we all had our doubts about you when you joined, but you’re totally part of the Starbucks family now. I just really wanna thank you especially for letting me cover your shift so that I could get a bonus.”

Your smile dropped. “Man, fuck you.”

“I’m just here for the pizza,” Anton admitted, “but that was sweet… I think.”

Jay seemed to be wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. You were surprised that his eyes actually seemed to be glistening.

"That was a beautiful speech, Riki," he praised the high schooler.

“Thank you, Jay. I’ll miss you guys when I go to Harvard,” Riki finished.

“Your ass is not going to Harvard,” Jake said flatly.

The rest of the night was spent eating, talking, and watching the Harry Potter movies together. While some of the boys went outside for a smoke sesh, you and the girls discussed plans to get an apartment together for the next year. Since you lived alone, you figured it was about time you experienced living with your friends. Chaewon shared a Pinterest board with everyone to start pinning interior decoration inspiration. You and Minjeong were completely useless in that area of expertise, so you offered to help with picking out more practical things, such as kitchen and bathroom essentials.

You already knew that Heeseung was going to continue living with Sunghoon for the next year, but you were content with that. You weren’t sure you were exactly ready to move in with your boyfriend or anything, so you thought it was best that you two lived separately for the next year. The student apartments were close, anyway. 

When your boyfriend returned, his eyes slightly glossed over, you tugged on his sleeve to get his attention. He leaned down so that his ears were by your lips. 

“Ask them if they wanna watch the Mario movie,” you whispered.

He shot you a wary look, whispering back, “No! They’re gonna make fun of me. You ask them.”

“No, they’re gonna make fun of me, too.”

“Well”—his lips curled up in a smile—“guess we’ll just have to watch it on our own, then.”

After a while, everyone started to disperse, except for Jungkook, who decided to crash on the couch. It was nearly midnight, anyway, and Riki’s mother had called him about twenty times to get home soon. He was strangely at ease while everyone else was anxious for him.

Chaewon and Aeri left first, claiming that they had to go to bed early because they both had 8 a.m. classes. Wonbin and Sunghoon were discussing going to a party that one of their friends was hosting, and Jungwon and Sunoo immediately shot down the idea when they were asked to tag along

Sunghoon held his phone up to show everyone a Snapchat story of a guy in a Barney costume double-fisting two beers. “Bro, Vernon’s at the party.”

“We’re going home,” Jungwon insisted. 

“C’mon, it’s just for a few hours. We’ll bring you guys back home safe—or, like, we’ll try to. No guarantees. If your safety's compromised, blame Jake or something.”

“Hell no,” Sunoo deadpanned. “I have a paper to finish.”

“Also,” Jungwon added on, pointing an accusing finger at Sunghoon, “I don’t trust you.”

“The fuck? I’m trustworthy.” He turned to you and asked, “Y/N, you think I’m trustworthy, right?”

“No,” you replied immediately. “In fact, I was gonna tell Jungwon and Sunoo to save themselves.”

“Yeah, I can’t get spiked today, dude,” Jungwon said. “I have a fluids test tomorrow.”

After saying your goodbyes to Sunoo and Jungwon, who took a while to figure out where they parked their car, you turned your attention back to Sunghoon and Wonbin. Beomgyu walked up to your group after being occupied with talking to Jisung and Anton for a while. 

“Let’s just go for an hour or something,” Wonbin told Sunghoon. “Are Jake and Beomgyu coming?”

“I’ll join,” Beomgyu said. “I think Jake’s being dragged somewhere by Minjeong, though. Heeseung, are you coming?”

Heeseung started, “No, I—”

“Oh!” Sunghoon bursted out, grabbing his two friends by the shoulders and tugging them away. He turned on his heel quickly, muttering something along the lines of, “Let’s just leave them alone.”

You raised a brow. “What’s his deal?”

You were just able to catch Heeseung’s expression under the dim lamplight, noting how he shied away at your question and averted his gaze. You swore the tips of his ears went scarlet, although you weren’t able to properly discern whether your mind was playing tricks on you or not. 

“Uh, he’s probably just zooted,” your boyfriend said offhandedly. He shot you a glance once you two started walking in the direction of his apartment. “Are you cold?” Before you could answer him, though, Heeseung was already taking off his sweater to hand it to you.

You giggled. “Thanks.” After a few moments, you bit your lip and told him, “Hey, so, about the survey, I thought you should know—”

“—that Minjeong sent me the link?” he finished for you, a grin growing on his face. You stared at him, nonplussed. “Don’t worry, I already knew. When I showed Jake the text, he recognized her number immediately. I figured you guys were just being nice.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“No, no,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Why’re you apologizing? That was, like, the nicest thing they’ve done for me.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You really turned my life around there. I would’ve probably just been permanently banned from Starbucks by now if it weren’t for you.”

Your cheeks went hot. It was true that you and Heeseung growing closer definitely changed his relationship with the employees, but you could say the same for him, too. You were admittedly reserved before you met Heeseung, and dating him opened your world up to so many new people. You wouldn’t have had all these new friends if it weren’t for him.

“You’ve done so much for me, too,” you told him. “I’ve never been able to just spontaneously hang out with so many friends before. I never even approached people before, and now I’m gonna room with Minjeong, Chaewon, and Aeri.”

He smiled down at you. “They like you ‘cause you’re fun to be around. Give yourself some more credit.” When you two reached the door of his apartment, Heeseung stopped in his tracks instead of opening the door. You noticed the flush of pink dusting his cheeks when he mumbled, “By the way, I sort of got you a surprise for your Starbucks thing.”

“Really?” You beamed up at him. “Hee, it’s really not that big of a deal for you. You didn’t have to get me something over that.”

“No, it is a big deal,” he insisted. “If it’s something big for you, then it’s big for me, okay? So, close your eyes.”

“Okay.” You placed your hands over your eyes, and your chest felt hot when Heeseung moved his arm to place his hand over your hands from behind, too. Your back was against his chest, and you could almost make out how fast his heart was beating. After you heard the sound of the door being unlocked, Heeseung took small steps forward to get you to walk inside. “Ow. You stepped on my heel.”

“My bad. Step on my feet.”

You did as he said and proceeded to laugh as Heeseung awkwardly walked you further into his apartment after shutting the door behind him. You leaned back against his chest and stumbled a little once he had you step off of his feet. 

“Okay, stay right there,” he instructed, “and keep your eyes closed!”

You swayed back and forth as you waited for him to return. He didn’t take very long, but you were brimming with anticipation. You stilled once you realized he was right in front of you again. You were just about to remove your hands when Heeseung stopped you again.

“Don’t!” he warned, and then asked, “Remember when I stole that baby goat for you?”

Your smile was quickly replaced with a disapproving frown. “Lee Heeseung, do not tell me you still have the baby goat.”

“No!” he exclaimed. “I miss him every day, though. But… I remembered you said something about how it would be nice if we raised a pet together one day, and I know we’re not living together yet or anything, but I thought it’d be nice to share… something…” He trailed off, clearly flustered. “Er, so—yeah, you can open your eyes now.”

You removed your hands and a gasp fell from your lips almost immediately.

Nestled in Heeseung’s palms was the cutest baby kitten you had ever seen. You cooed as you reached over to stroke its plush, white fur. The mewl that came from the kitten nearly had you falling to your knees from how adorable it was.

“He’s a Ragdoll,” he told you. “I thought we could parent him together.”

Heeseung let you hold the kitten in your hands, and you held him close to your chest and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“I could seriously kiss you right now,” you breathed out. 

“Don’t kiss me yet.” He grinned. “I have something else for you.”

You could’ve died of happiness on the spot. Your boyfriend really was completely unfair. How could he spoil you this much and expect you not to combust?

Heeseung dug into his pockets for a moment before pulling out a silver key. You were confused as he took the kitten back from you and placed the key in your hands. After you weighed it in your palm and inspected it for a moment, the dots started connecting in your head. You could almost feel the tears threatening to well up in your eyes.

“That’s our spare key to the apartment. It’s all yours,” he said. “I talked to Sunghoon about it, obviously, and he was totally chill with you having a key to our place. You can come by whenever you want, and you don’t need to wait for me to get out of class if you wanna come over and see our cat.”

“Heeseung,” you murmured, “I don’t know what to say.”

He seemed to visibly panic. “It’s totally cool if you don’t want it. I wasn’t sure if I was moving too fast with that or not, uh… Sunghoon and I just keep it under the doormat if we accidentally get locked out, so it’s really not—”

“I love you,” you breathed out.

His eyes grew wide. 

He quickly became a stuttering mess, scrambling to fit words together into a sentence, but nothing was coming out coherently. You almost wanted to laugh because his distress was so cute, but you decided to show him how you felt instead.

The words died on his lips as soon as you wrapped your arms around Heeseung’s neck and kissed his disquiet away. And this time, it felt like you were able to pour your entire heart into that one kiss because there was something that stirred deep within your heart as your lips moved against Heeseung’s soft ones. 

You never thought one person could move your heart like this, never thought someone could make you feel like you were made of magic, but Heeseung managed to wriggle his way into your heart so effortlessly. One of his hands moved to hold the back of your neck, deepening the kiss slowly—at your own pace. 

When you two finally pulled away after what felt like forever, Heeseung didn’t pull away from you. His nose nudged yours, then grazed your cheek, peppering several more chaste kisses to your lips before you were a giggling and blushing mess. 

Your boyfriend grinned. “I love you, too, Y/N.”

It was then when your kitten mewled from where it was resting on Heeseung’s free hand, seemingly wanting attention. You stared at it for a moment before realization dawned across your face.

“Yoshi!” you exclaimed. “We should name him Yoshi.”

He gasped. “I wanted to name him something Mario-themed! But I thought Mario or Luigi sounded stupid.” He snorted and held the Ragdoll properly again, using his knuckle to gently stroke his head. “Yoshi sounds perfect.”

You giggled. “Yoshi should watch the Mario movie with us. It’s only tradition.”

“I’ll get the popcorn ready.” 

He saluted and handed you the remote so that you could pull up the movie. You took the kitten in your hands and curled up on the couch, placing Yoshi on your lap. When your boyfriend returned, he wrapped an arm around you and started the movie, petting the kitten every now and then. 

And after your umpteenth rewatch, you were definitely going to brag about your new kitten to all your friends; you were going to start looking into applying for apartments for you, Minjeong, Chaewon, and Aeri to move into; and, most importantly, you were going to tell Heeseung you loved him over and over again until there were no doubts in his mind about your feelings for him. 

It was around three in the morning when Park Sunghoon stumbled to the front door of his apartment. He, Wonbin, and Beomgyu somehow ended up getting crossed to the point of nearly blacking out at the party. Thankfully, though, after sitting on the curb of a sidewalk for thirty minutes and having Beomgyu forcing Gatorade down his throat, Sunghoon seemed to sober up enough to walk back home.

Beomgyu insisted on walking him back after they dropped off Wonbin (who hardly remembered his own name at the moment), but Sunghoon was determined to brave the journey back home. 

He patted down his pockets and realized he only had his phone and wallet. No keys. He must’ve left them at home since he was out with Heeseung earlier in the night. 

But no worries. Sunghoon and Heeseung always kept a spare key under the doormat in case of emergencies like these. Sure, he and his housemate often got themselves into crazy situations from time to time, but the smartest decision they had ever made was keeping their extra key ready. 

However, when Sunghoon flipped the corner of the doormat up, there was nothing there. He paused and lifted up the doormat completely, but absolutely nothing was underneath. 

Fuck, he remembered, that motherfucker gave Y/N the stupid spare key.

He honestly couldn’t blame Heeseung because he agreed to letting Y/N have the key, but now he couldn’t get in the house. Couldn’t Heeseung give her the key at a normal hour, like tomorrow afternoon? This situation was fucked.

Sunghoon groaned and dialed Beomgyu’s number. After a few rings, his friend picked up.

He asked, “Weed Guy Beomgyu, can I crash at your place?”

“Use the doormat key,” was his friend’s curt response. 

“Heeseung gave it to Y/N.”

A couple seconds of silence rolled by before Beomgyu answered, “Fine. I’ll pick you up in a few.”

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ thank you for supporting a stoner's guide to starbucks all this time !! :') it has been a JOURNEY and i feel so so bittersweet about it ending but i very much appreciate all the love and support you guys have shown this smau <3 i am also very much content with this ending and i hope you guys enjoy it as well 🥰 the next chapter will be the epilogue and then i'll post some uncuts !! #LIGHTONEUPFORHEESEUNG

[ode2rin]

by design, you became mine

pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader

genre. fluff & highschool or teenage romance !

warnings/content. 3k+ wc | profanity | mentions of food | timeline is set before blue lock ! | reo and reader is in their sophomore year in highschool | reader is a bit mean to reo (not in an extreme way, just in a normal teenager-y way) and reo is a sore loser in love | and this is me trying the grumpy x sunshine (obv reo) trope ! | half-assed proofread btw | some parts might be ooc reo but it's fine hehe

summary: reo asks you to tutor him after failing an exam in which he oddly looks happy about

“the teacher said i need to be tutored,” a voice tinged with amusement reached your ears.

looking up, you saw reo mikage standing right in front of you, his million-dollar smile lighting up his face, as he held out a math test paper marked with a big, bleeding red ‘F.’

and for someone who had just allegedly received the lowest score possible on such an important exam, he was definitely grinning a little too much.

“and why should that concern me?” you shot back, hoping to hide your indifference. 

your annoyance seeped into your words, not meant to sound rude, but you craved some peace during your lunch break. hunger gnawed at your stomach, and this interruption wasn't helping.

he shrugged casually, as if the situation were no big deal. if you had received such a grade, you would not be smiling right now, let alone treat this situation nonchalantly. “well, the teacher did mention i could ask anyone. and since you're undoubtedly one of the smartest in the class, it only makes sense to choose you, right?”

with sarcasm making its way to your tongue and translating to your voice, you retorted, “oh, is that so? do you find me worthy of your esteemed company, young master?”

as the son and sole heir of the mikage corp, reo was trained to be an exceptional conversationalist, and there had been only a few instances when he couldn't form a response right away. this one, however, might be the longest he got a cat to get his tongue. reo feels like he’s having a heartburn from your remark, it’s pathetic.

ever so impatient, you, who only wanted to get back to your lunch, beat him to a reply, saying, “what if i refuse?”

quickly recovering from the unexpected turn of events, reo let out a dramatic gasp, “do you not care about my future? what if i don't graduate on time and can't get a job?”

that must be the most bullshit reason you've ever heard from the heir of a business tycoon. you're pretty sure his future is much clearer than any blue sky. but sure, you can play along.

“fine.”

“really?” 

sensing an out-of-place joy in his tone, you raised a brow. was he that thrilled to be tutored?

“i'm sure. now, can i return to my lunch?”

reo's eyes widened a bit as he realized that he was interrupting your meal. hurriedly, he bid you goodbye with a smile.

even with your sarcastic retorts, he walked away, still smiling. his grin was a telltale sign of how much trouble you had just signed up for. 

stupid reo and his stupid, handsome smile.

smiling to yourself, you couldn't help but wonder how he managed to receive such a mark in the first place. you had known him since freshman year (it’s hard not to know him), and you knew that the mikage heir was a born genius. so, could this be a mishap? probably. oh well, he couldn't be so difficult to teach.

you’re wrong.

reo mikage is the worst fucking student.

not only does he seem uninterested in your explanations, completely disregarding all the equations you painstakingly lay out for him, but he also has the audacity to stare at you the entire time.

with that shit-eating grin that never leaves his face.

sure, he's cute, but right now, he's nothing more than a damn thorn in your side.

“is there something on my face that bothers you this much, or do you simply have the attention span of a goldfish?” you said, frustration evident in your tone.

“you're just a bad teacher, i think,” he quips, smugness dripping from his words.

“and you're the worst student, i'm sure,” you fire back, refusing to let him have the upper hand.

“well, how about you give me an incentive?” reo suddenly exclaims, his excitement evident in his sparkling purple eyes.

“and now you're asking for more as if you're not already taking up too much of my time?” you reply sarcastically, but your words carry no venom.

“come on! if i get a high mark on the next exam, you'll give me your number!” he eagerly proposes, his enthusiasm contagious.

do all rich kids have the tendency to want mundane things? 

“what are you going to do with my number?”

“networking! it's a thing in my world. expanding social circles and all that,” he explains, trying his best to come up with excuses that sound remotely plausible.

reo, well aware of the fact that he can only fabricate bullshit excuses in your presence, hopes he's not being too obvious. unfortunately for him, you see right through it, but it doesn't bother you all that much.

“better show me that A+ then,” you challenge, your expectations clear.

oh, it’s on. he’s going to ace that exam, one way or another. not that it’s actually hard.

mikage: hello y/n! mikage: do you have some notes from the discussion from yesterday? mikage: hello?

so much for networking.

mikage: and they finally read my messages! the crowd cheers!

what led to this moment is, once again, reo mikage standing in front of you, grinning from ear to ear, eagerly holding out an exam paper marked with what seems to be the biggest A+ you've ever seen.

that was three days ago, and sure enough, he got the incentive he asked for. and in those days, you damn sure experienced the ‘networking’ he speaks of with how often he texts you.

you: yeah, let me just take pictures of it to send you. mikage: NO you: ??? are you yelling at me mikage: i mean no, don’t take pictures of it. i’m a visual learner. i have to see your notes in person.

is he fucking serious right now?

you: and what do you suggest we do about that? it’s saturday, we won’t see each other until monday, genius. mikage: how about i’ll come to your house? you: how about you try asking nagi for notes instead?

after sending your last message, you put your phone down despite it continuously buzzing, signaling reo's discontent with your suggestion. you did a commendable job of ignoring him until he grew tired of sending unread messages and decided to call you instead.

“what?” you answered, picking up his persistent call.

“the probability of nagi having notes is lower than the probability of cows flying ten years from now!” he exclaimed, and begrudgingly, you admit he sure does have a point in that.

sighing into the phone, you reply, “you can't come here, it's a bit busy.”

“we'll meet up then! i can pick you up?” reo suggests eagerly. the ‘q’ in reo mikage sure does stand for ‘quitter’. 

“do you text and call everyone in your networking circle this much?” you ask, slightly amused.

“what do you mean? we're friends!” he protests.

“did i miss a few pages, young master, or did you get hit in the head with a soccer ball and become a bit delusional?” you tease, unable to resist.

“how about you stop being mean to me?” you could almost hear the pout and the mock hurt in his voice.

you can't, not when you get cute reactions from him in return.

you can't help but find his cute reactions entertaining, and you smile at the phone, even though he can't see it.

“i'll think about it,” you concede.

“okay, you have enough time to think about it while i'm on my way to you! bye, see you in a bit,” he says cheerfully before hanging up.

looking at the phone, you wonder when exactly you agreed to this.

stupid reo and his stupid persistence.

reo is once again in front of you, a scene that has become quite familiar over the course of your friendship.

however, this time you find yourselves in a cozy cafe near your house instead of on the school premises. he’s sitting in front of you, skimming through your notes, probably visually learning, while you sip on the drink he insisted on ordering for you. you gave in, because reo is not a quitter of any sorts. fighting him on the bill is futile and definitely a waste of effort. 

“i’ll pay you back,” you state firmly.

“i asked you here, so i should pay,” reo insists.

“i’ll feel bad.”

“if that’s the case, i guess you can treat me next time?” he suggests with a playful smile.

“you practically dragged me here, and you're already talking about a ‘next time’? you're not being slick, reo mikage,” you retort, not letting him get away with his charm.

“a man could try…” he whispers, hiding his face behind your notes, although you can see his neck turning red.

shaking your head, you shift your attention to the busy street outside the cafe. however, your ears catch the faint hum of a familiar song coming from reo. you know that song — it has been stuck in your head since a famous girl group released their album.

unable to contain your amusement, you chuckle, causing reo to look at you with curious eyes.

still smiling brightly, you remark, “didn’t know you're a fan too,” and laugh once more.

reo, on the other hand, feels starstruck.

he made you laugh for the first time, and was it the prettiest sound he ever heard? it sure is. it feels as if his heart beats in harmony with the rhythm of your laughter. it takes his breath away and brings him back to the present, all at once. it's intoxicating in the best possible way.

once he gets home, he's going to memorize the discography of this girl group. nothing will stop him. he will hum every single one of their songs in your presence.

reo would do that and even more if it means hearing you laugh again. this shouldn't be the last time he gets to experience it.

you had fun with reo last saturday. 

but right now? you sure don’t.

he’s avoiding you, like a fucking plague. and much to your chagrin, you miss having him around, despite his annoying antics. all with his stupid excuses and stupid grins.

he’s physically avoiding you, but you've noticed him stealing glances at you multiple times during this boring history class, his guilty expression not going unnoticed. it's time to put an end to this charade once and for all.

as soon as the bell rings, you quickly stand up and make your way towards reo before he can leave the classroom. looking around to ensure you're alone, you confront him.

“what’s wrong with you?” you demand.

“what do you mean?” reo feigns innocence.

“you’re avoiding me. you did something, didn’t you? did you spill something on the notes i lent you and you can't bring yourself to tell me?” you accuse, trying to get to the bottom of his strange behavior.

reo wishes it was just that. but it wasn't. it was much worse, to the point that even seishiro nagi called him out on it. and seishiro nagi? a man who couldn't care less about anyone because it's a hassle, calling someone out? you know you messed up if he does.

and reo believes he did.

“you're smiling at your phone too much, ‘s creeping me out,” nagi remarked, looming over reo’s phone.

reo shrugged, trying to hide his excitement. “stop being a hater, nagi.”

curiosity piqued, nagi caught a glimpse of your contact number on the screen. “oh? you finally made a move? about time.”

“i didn’t... they're tutoring me,” reo replied, a hint of sheepishness in his voice.

nagi raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “huh? for?”

“uh, i failed a math exam.”

“you?” nagi chuckled, finding the situation rather amusing. 

“okay, fine, the test paper wasn't mine or anyone’s.”

“normally, i won't give a damn, but tell me about it,” nagi said, genuinely interested.

it was an understatement to say that nagi was borderline amused after hearing reo's story, so amused that he had to unintentionally slap reo with the truth.

“basically, you tricked them. should’ve just said that.”

it's safe to assume that nagi's words had struck their way into reo's mind all throughout that day until now.

once again, and perhaps for the last time, reo stood in front of you. but this time, there was no smile on his lips nor a glint in his big purple eyes. he took a deep breath, gathering the courage to confess.

“no, i didn't spill anything on your notes. but i did something to you,” reo admitted, his voice trailing off. seeing your raised eyebrow, he continued, “i tricked you.”

“what?”

"i didn't fail any exam. i didn't need tutoring. no teacher told me to approach anyone. the test paper i showed you wasn't mine. i wasted your time, and i..." reo's voice faltered, barely above a whisper, “... tricked you, because i didn't know how to approach you after having liked you since first year.”

reo panned his eyes to the floor, unable to meet your gaze while his heart sank.

he hasn’t even started yet it's done. he should've come clean. he should've just told you he liked you since freshman year. he should've just asked for your number like a proper man. but he was so fucking shy, unbearable to think of being rejected by you. he could only think of coaxing you to talk to him.

and now his own foolishness was paying the price.

it's over. you and him are done for. he's not going to hear your laughter anymore. he won't ever receive a sarcastic retort again. all those moments of bliss, gone —

“i kinda know.”

what?

reo's eyes widened, and he lifted his gaze to meet yours. how?

“did you forget that the teacher congratulated the class for having good results on the exam you showed me? no one got a score below B+, reo. so imagine my surprise when you came, interrupting my lunch, showing me a paper with an f mark claiming you flunked it.”

god damn it, reo mikage.

it's either you're joking or reo just made the most foolish mistake known to mankind. and none of the former is evident in your face. 

he should really pay attention in class, not on your side profile from where he sits across you. 

a grave grave mistake. can the ground swallow him whole? or can someone shoot him —

no, actually, wait a damn minute.

it was as if all the clogs in reo's brain got a huge power-up as he realized something so spectacular.

“then why did you not say anything?”

you... from the start, could've just refused him. if you knew the entire time. so why did you agree to tutor him in the first place? 

perhaps…? no, reo didn't want to get his hopes up.

he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his nervousness evident in his fidgeting. it was as if he had been caught in a whirlwind of emotions, trying to make sense of it all. the weight of anticipation hung in the air as he waited for your response, his heart pounding in his chest.

and then, you smiled.

you and your stupidly bright smile that feels like a ray of light on a freezing cold skin that reo is having right now.

he really did not want to get his hopes up, but how in the hell would he do that when you just smiled at his question?

“what does that smile mean?”

“well, it means that maybe you're not the only scheming lovesick fool here, pretty boy.”

oh.

oh.

you knew it all along that he was scheming his way into your heart.

you knew the entire time.

and you let him.

what the fuck. reo was having a heartburn, literally, figuratively, and madly so. all because of you. 

reo snapped out of his thoughts when you waved a hand in his face, vying for his attention. you spoke, “is this everything you’re guilty about? i thought it was something grave. if you told me you spilled something on my notes, i would have started swinging at you, actually.” your laughter filled the room, lightening the tension.

the second time reo made you laugh was because of a scheme that he expected would end whatever beautiful thing you had between you two. not that he’s complaining.

“so you like me back?” reo finally gathered the courage to ask, his voice tinged with hope.

“if we get some food right now, i might answer that coherently. scheming or not, you really do have the habit of interrupting my lunch,” you playfully replied.

“i’d buy you the whole cafeteria if you answer me right now,” reo declared, a touch of desperation in his voice.

the ‘o’ in reo mikage sure stands for ‘overspending’, you’re convinced.

giving in to his request, you took three steps closer to him, barely a foot distance between you. softly, you declared, “yes, reo mikage, i like you too. but i must say, you, making me starve right now, is reducing your chances of being my actual boyfriend.”

“let’s get you some food.” reo said, holding your hand and leading you out of the room like he was on a mission. amused by his sudden swift pace, you let out a laugh.

and suddenly, all tension left reo’s body. his heart once again beat at a normal rhythm. that’s the third time reo made you laugh. surely, it’s one of many more to come.

a minute after walking side by side, you broke the serene silence surrounding you. “not gonna lie, the networking excuse is kind of funny.”

“but it worked. a win is a win,” reo smugly said, showing you your intertwined hands. “see? a win.”

you shook your head at his remarks. your stupid reo and his stupid scheme.

note. hello lovely ppl ! thanks for keeping up w me this far and for following me! as a thanks, here’s a reo fic since i’m missing him so much and emma has been feeding me ideas abt him <3 this is actually the longest i’ve written (i’m so normal abt reo i swear), hope you like it! (btw it goes without saying that this fic, is in fact, another TS inspired hehe love lots!)

𓆩♡𓆪 for one of the best people i met here, @saetorinrin

[stubz]

Drill Day

'Attention participants, the drill will be starting in 1 minute. Take this time to prepare yourselves and to remember that everything that will happen is a simulation. Nothing can or will legitimately hurt you. Should you wish to stop the simulation tap the centerpiece of your vest and you will escorted off, should you be unable to do so simply say 'moon' and you will escorted off.'

"Okay the sound system is good, the holograms and drones are a go, and our actors are ready."

"I still don't know why we need actors when we have perfectly good holograms and drones." Glip didn't want to admit but she was a little hurt that Calis and the Captain didn't trust her work.

"We've been over this. As good as your holograms are they aren't physical which can lower the realism and while your drones are physical they can can be too predictable which is something we don't want. Hence the actors."

"Doubt they'll even be convincing." she grumbled.

.

To Glip's annoyance and Quip's entertainment the actor's where in fact convincing.

"What are you doing you idiot?! Your in a supply closet with tons of stuff around to use and you use a towel?? You deserve to be captured by enemy forces."

The poor Vrool get's tackled to the ground by an actor who roars in their face, fake fangs and mandibles making them ink themselves.

"Aw buddy, aw there we go! Good sportsmanship actor!" the actor uses the towel to clean the Vrool best they can before finding them a new uniform to change into them a before sending them to the 'jail' set up.

"Shlip who did they hire for this?" honestly this was some of the best simulation acting she's seen in a while.

"Some random ship members who had too much time and was down for a free dinner on Cap."

"Huh, any apexes?"

"Oh yeah, like two thirds of them. Those big ones dressed like a Mors Crawlers? That's a tighalax and a rextalian."

"Great asteroids no wonder those orcs were shaking."

"Yep," he said popping the p. "almost as terrifying as the real thing."

..

"Wait wait wait, hold the shlipping communicator, we got younglings doing this?"

"Oh quiznack. . .well it's probably gonna be toned down right, right?" he asked looking at his co-worker.

"Yeah, yeah it should be. Look. Like half the actors are leaving...leaving only the scariest ones left." they looked at each other concerned.

"CAAAPPPTAAAIN??"

"What!? Damnit Quip and Glip don't yell into the comms!"

"Are we actually sending younglings into this??"

"Isn't this like youngling endangerment?"

"The kids have been briefed about this and their parents signed off on this. Perfectly legal and safe. I also brought in some experts on this."

"Experts on scaring children?" who the shlip does that??

"Just do your jobs."

...

"OH MY GODS..HOW THE ACTUAL SHLIP?!"

"how the deq are these kids fine with this..."

Said younglings are being chased by actors, dressed as Mors Crawlers and Domitors, the actors giving them very little breathing room.

One of them swipe at the younglings with their prosthetic claws, catching on the little ones clothes. They yank back and the child is sent sprawling towards the jaws of the Domitor, the child's vest lights up red. They're out.

Some more children get caught by claws, tails, and wings. Each one of them are out.

The remaining few duck into an open vent too small for the predators to follow. They claw and roar at the entrance.

"HA! Can't get them now, score one nothing for the younglings!"

"Nope, look at screen 3."

While the actors at the entrance roared and thrashed a few of them ran through the halls until reaching the other side of the vent. Just as the children were coming out.

They could run but to where? Back into the vent? Forward into their pursuers?

Well they tried both.

The largest and strongest charged forward while the smallest ran back.

While the larger and stronger ones were from species known for their power and abilities, they were still younglings going against adults. After some struggling their vests turned red.

Only a handful of younglings reached the vent without getting caught. The ones inside were safe...for now.

....

'Only 5 minutes before the simulation is over. 5 minutes.'

"Well, looks the kids win this one."

"Good for them. They earned it."

"Yeah-hold up...what are they doing?"

The actors were...breaking the wall. They had grabbed chairs and any heavy objects they could and were using them to break down the wall.

"IS THIS ALLOWED?!"

"THERE'S NO WAY IT IS....gods wrath it is...JUST LET THE KIDS HAVE THIS!!"

When a foot of the vent was now revealed they grabbed it and started to pull. The other side, now aware of what was happening, started to push and increase their efforts in grabbing the younglings.

"They're pulling it...oh my gods they're pulling it out of the actual wall!"

"IT'S 15 FEET LONG THOUGH!!"

"HOW MUCH TIME IS LEFT?!"

"2 MINUTES."

Inch by inch the predators pulled out sections of the vent. Almost a third of the way done. The hole left behind now big enough to send over their smallest predator on the other side.

"BODY CAM BODY CAM"

"I'M DOING IT I'M DOING IT"

The beast crawled as fast as it could through the tunnel. The younglings yell and kick at its claws.

A child screams while being dragged out of the body cams view.

"They're dead."

"Yep, you owe me five tix."

"No, I betted on the other rextali-"

"MOON!"

Quip and Glip quieted. Then went into a flurry finding the right camera, searching for the child who said the safe word.

They found the child; Zyz, age 6 years old, species rextalian, being comforted by an actor. Face pressed into the adults fake fur while stroking the child's spine with their palms. Keeping their face and claws out of Zyz's view.

All the other actors around them softly put down the vent pieces and children already caught.

They then step back and then kneel or crouch. Claws are up or by their sides.

The children go to one another, checking up on each other, a few check on Zyz.

One of the actors slowly approaches Zyz on their knees. Hand out holding a tissue.

A tiny hand takes it. Along with the tissue.

And just like that all the other adults scoop up the children. Some are cradled into their chests, needing comfort and to not have them see their masks. Others are put onto their shoulders and backs, not as riled up or in a more playful mood. Some are tossed and dangled, to put them at ease despite the adrenaline coursing through their small bodies.

Soon the sniffles and hiccups are replaced by laughter and cheers.

The claws are replaced by warm sweaty hands.

Fangs and mandibles are replaced by sweaty smiling faces.

Wings and extra appendages are replaced by children hugging the tired actors.

"...they were HUMANS?!?"

"Hey it's Max! ...Ohhh that's whose a professional in scaring kids. That makes sense now."

[goldfades]

manager literally having to handle every single thing and js bein emotionally exhausted, one day she’s just completely overstimulated from everything and walks out to let herself cry

i love angst sorry🤘

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ─ UCONN WBB MANAGER

౨ৎ ─ summary | after a shitty week, manager breaks down over a stupid test score and her teammate helps her through it.

─ word count | 919

─ warnings | NIKA AND MANAGER BONDING TIME YIPEE! angsty af, hurt to comfort, manager putting too much pressure on herself, midterms (BLEHHH), pretty sure nothin else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

YOUR ENTIRE WEEK had been shit, to put it simply.

Scratch that, your entire month had been pretty shitty. Your midterms had gone terrible, your headaches have been becoming way more painful and more frequent and on top of all of that, you bled through your pants. Twice.

With play-off season arriving in about couple weeks, practices had been running later and later. You spent the entire practice usually on the phone, trying to figure out routes to away games, trying to coordinate transportation for the team, and dealing with the last-minute changes and complications that seemed to plague every plan you made.

As the playoff season even nearer, the pressure mounted to new heights. Every decision felt like it carried the weight of the world, and the fear of letting down your team gnawed at your insides.

Geno had told you that you could leave early if you absolutely needed to, but you hated feeling useless. You wanted to be able to do your job without letting your own personal issues get in the way but right now, it felt like you were way in over your head. Despite Geno's offer to leave early, the guilt gnawed at you, whispering that you were failing in your duties as a manager.

As today's practice wore on, your headache intensified, pulsing behind your eyes with an intensity that threatened to consume you. You clenched your jaw against the pain, willing yourself to push through, but with each passing moment, it felt like the weight on your shoulders grew heavier.

Your phone buzzed against your thigh and you picked it up, reading the notification. Your heart had dropped to your stomach as you read the email ─ you had failed your Geo midterm.

You threw your phone against the hardwood floors, feeling your eyesight become blurry. That was cherry on top, that was the final straw. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to regain control of your emotions. You got up from the bench, picking up your phone as you sniffled.

"Whoa, Y/N? Are you good?" You turned to meet Nika's eyes as yours widened in shock. You immediately wiped your tears as you averted your gaze.

Nika was thankfully the only person on the court right now, everyone else was in the locker-room getting ready for practice. Nika finished up early, like she usually did.

You sniffled again. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You're not, tell me what's bothering you. Who was it? Was it Paige or Geno, because I swear-"

"No, no." You sighed loudly as Nika's expression softened. "Just allergies. I need to go get something from my dorm, I won't be long."

Nika scoffed as she watched you walk away, her eyes narrowing with concern despite your attempt to brush off the situation.

"Allergies, my ass," she muttered under her breath, though she knew better than to push you further when you were clearly not ready to talk.

You went to your dorm and cried your eyes out, that was the only thing you felt like you could do. You almost debated whether or not you should go back to practice until you remembered that you left all your stuff there.

As you got up to the door, you heard a knock on your door. Your furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you opened the door, revealing Nika. She held your bag in one hand and hers in the other, a warm smile on her lips.

You opened the door wider so that she could come in. Without a word, she set down both her bag and yours as you closed the door behind her.

"Practice ended early so you didn't miss anything," Nika spoke as she gave you a smile. She sat down on your bed as she gestured for you to come and sit.

"Thanks for bringing my bag," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to find the right words to express the depth of your gratitude.

Nika waved off your thanks with a casual shrug, her gaze reassuring. "No problem. I figured you could use a break from everything."

Then, with a small sigh, Nika reached out and took your hand in hers, her touch a comforting. "One test doesn't define your entire career, Y/N. I promise you, it will not matter after you graduate. It probably won't even matter in a month, or maybe even a week."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Nika had completely read you like a damn book. "How did you know?"

Nika just scoffed, "You think we don't listen when you ramble on about your tests and shit? We do, and trust me we know you better than you think."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her blunt honesty, the tension that had coiled tight in your chest slowly starting to unravel. It was true ─ Nika and the rest of the team had always been there to listen, even when you thought no one was paying attention.

"Look, Y/N." Nika kept her gaze on you, her expression serious. "We love you and we need you, but don't ever put us over your mental health. We need you all in one piece if you're gonna take care of us, right?"

"So, for us. Take the weekend off and come back on Monday, alright?" Before you could protest, Nika sent you a stern look and you sighed loudly. Nika's expression dissipated into a warmer one as she smiled, "That's our girl."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[meazalykov]

caffeine addiction

lena oberdorf x reader

summary: reader struggles with a caffeine addiction

The sun peeked through the curtains of the cozy apartment Y/N and Lena shared in Munich, casting a warm glow over the room. It had been a couple of months since Lena transferred from Wolfsburg to Bayern Munich, a move they had both looked forward to. 

The couple have been together for a few years, meeting through Y/n’s German friends at Bayern since the girl isn’t German herself. Long distance for the first year was hard, but then it got easier before Lena’s move. They not only played for the same club now, but also got to wake up next to each other every morning.

Y/N stretched and yawned, her muscles taut from yesterday's practice session. In the next few days, Bayern is gonna be playing against Benfica in the last Champions League group stage game, so training was tough. 

Playing as a right back or right winger for Bayern Munich Frauen demanded peak physical condition. The girl has scored the most goals in the club (this season) so far, but she is still expected to keep them coming throughout the season. Nobody doubts y/n on scoring in games. 

Y/N thanked herself for maintaining a fit, athletic body. Her strict diet, mainly consisting of protein and grain, plus rigorous workout routines, were a testament to her dedication. Sometimes, she overworked herself (according to Lena, Sydney, Sam, and Tainara) but she knows how to bounce back. 

Except from that one indulgence she couldn’t resist: her morning iced coffee. 

Each day, without fail, she had to have her  small iced coffee with a pump of vanilla and a dash of light cream. It was the pick-me-up that jump started her day. Last season, y/n was late to training due to her need of having caffeine to keep herself awake and active.

“Y/n *laughs* Come on, we are gonna be late!” Lena looks over to see y/n’s hand covering the top of her cup, swirling the contents in the iced coffee together. 

“One second, sorry!” Y/n said and took a few big “gulps” of her iced coffee. Lena had started to notice a pattern with her girlfriend. She wondered if y/n had a caffeine addiction that needed to be talked about. 

“They have coffee in the lounge room over at Bayern, you can grab some there.” Lena said, smiling as she noticed her girlfriend place the coffee on their kitchen island before grabbing her black nike bag, filled with necessary football things. 

“The brand they use to brew their coffee is gross. Plus they don’t have sugar free syrup, just plain packets of sugar or stevia.” Y/n and Lena laughed as they left the apartment, locking the door and quickly headed to training. 

By 4 PM, without fail, Y/N would crash due to the caffeine high wearing off. Lena will chill on the couch as y/n falls asleep with her head in her lap. Y/n’s groggy state left her in need of a nap every-single-day she has coffee in the morning. While naps were common for athletes, the inconsistency in Y/N's energy levels was concerning to Lena. 

Lena put in a google search into her phone that evening, “can coffee cause you to get tired earlier?” and google confirmed to her that it did. 

So the next morning, as Y/N in her comfy PJs sipped her iced coffee at the kitchen counter, Lena hugged her from behind. Y/n sunk into the feeling of her girlfriend’s fit arms around her waist, forgetting about the iced coffee on the counter and holding her hands on top of Lena’s instead.

“Baby, we need to talk about your coffee habit,” Lena began, her whispered tone was serious yet loving. “I’ve noticed how you crash every afternoon due to this. Maybe you should consider cutting back a bit.”

Y/N looked at her cup, then turned her head to look at Lena who still held her. “I know it’s not great, but it’s hard to function without it. I need it to wake up– and for an extra boost of energy at training.”

Lena squeezed y/n’s hand in hers reassuringly. “I get it, but I worry about you. The crashes aren’t good, and this can’t be healthy in the long run. Let’s try to cut back gradually, see how you feel?”

Reluctantly, after thinking for a few minutes, Y/N agreed. 

The first day without her iced coffee was rough. By midday, y/n was battling a pounding headache and a growing sense of anxiety. Lena knew these were withdrawals from caffeine. Luckily, it was their day off before they had to play against Benfica. But Lena stayed close, offering support. “It’ll go away soon, Schatz,” Lena said as she gave y/n some medicine, helping her take a sip of cold water that she grabbed from their fridge. .

The withdrawal symptoms were intense. Y/N felt irritable and on edge, her body craving the caffeine it had grown dependent on. But with Lena’s unwavering support, she pushed through. Lena would grab medicine, prepare some herbal teas she found helpful through the internet, and offer distractions, anything to help y/n.

After their win against Benfica in the last group stage (thanks to a brace from y/n) sending Bayern to the quarter-finals to go up against Chelsea, Y/N found herself feeling more energized throughout the day. 

It was the evening and Lena relaxed on the couch after a long day of training. Y/n was in the kitchen preparing herself a salad when she looked over at her iced coffee “station” she made a long time ago. Making a note to herself to get rid of it to make space for something else eventually, Y/N joining Lena on their couch with a grateful smile. 

“You know, I feel a lot better.” Y/n randomly says as she looks ahead at the TV, which shows the men’s el clasico match live. Cuddling on the couch with y/n laying on her body, Lena looks down at y/n confused. 

“Feel better about what?” Lena asks.  

“I feel better about not relying on caffeine.” Y/n says. Lena smiles in admiration before patting her girlfriend’s head jokingly, “It took you some time.” 

“Hey! At least it happened sometime—Thank you for being patient with me.” 

<3

[bloatedandalone04]

Bets & Bargains - Part 3

Series Masterlist

➪in which you and bradley hang out again and get to know more about each other, and quickly realize that you’re more alike than you thought.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 4.4K FOLLOWERS

Bradley reread Bri’s text an embarrassing amount of times, and he was still reading it now as he made his way onto the campus grounds. 

His phone was in his hand, her text on full display as he tried to think of how to respond to it, despite it being sent a mere sixteen hours ago. After he got home last night, he stripped down and had a shower in an attempt to cool himself off. He felt guilty about hanging out with you, mainly because he had agreed to that bet he was going to call off, and because he was clearly still hung up on Bri.

He was always bad at replying to texts, which is why he had yet to get back to her, and that was probably another reason she broke up with him. 

Still not knowing what to say, he pockets his phone, his fingers brushing against his wallet and a piece of paper. He had thrown on the jeans he wore last night to the botanical gardens, and when he pulled his hand back out of his pocket, he saw that he was holding the ticket you bought for him. 

God, were you sweet last night. You and he talked for so long, and it was all enjoyable conversations, which was a bit unexpected for the first time he’s actually hung out with you. One of the first things Bradley noticed about you was your voice, and he was sure he could spend hours on end just listening to it, which was a bit concerning since he had no business feeling that way about you so soon after meeting you. 

He was actually a bit shocked that Bri had texted him after seeing him once outside of his house. As much as he hated to admit it, him going out to meet you might have actually scored him a few points with her.

When he tore his eyes away from the ticket, he immediately met your gaze, and a genuine smile took over his lips that matched your own. He puts the ticket in his bag this time before meeting you halfway, his eyes lingering on your floral printed skirt for longer than necessary. “Hi, Bradley,” you greet in your sweet voice that made Bradley bite down on his lip to stop the groan that nearly slipped from his mouth.

“Hi, Y/n,” he said back, watching your lips curve upwards. “Is floral your trademark?”

You look down at your white cropped tee and skirt before shrugging. “It can be,” 

Bradley’s grin only grew at that as he moved to stand next to you. “Can I walk you to class?”

“You definitely can,” you answered and began walking towards the opposite side of campus from where his own class is. He’d probably be late if he were to walk you all the way to yours, but he didn’t care too much, which is a bit surprising for him as he’s always tried to be school-orientated. 

“I had fun yesterday,” he says as he quickly catches up to you. One thing he’s learned about you is that you’d easily leave him in the dust if he isn’t quick enough to keep up, and that was actually something he admired about you. 

You look up at him as you grab hold of the strap of your bag. “Me too,” 

“We should hang out again,” he offered, then added, “Only if you want to.”

You raise a brow as you ask, “Do you want to?”

He scoffed, “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t want to,”

You nod and break eye contact. “I was just checking to make sure you’re still different from all the stereotypical frat guys I’ve met in the past, that’s all,”

“Trust me,” he started, holding the door open for you. “I’m very different.”

You grin at him as you enter the building. “And you’re proving it very well,”

“Good to know,” he replied and you turned to give him a softer smile. 

“You don’t have to walk me the whole way,” you tell him as you adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “You’ll probably be late for your own class.”

That was true, but oddly enough Bradley didn’t care. “It’s fine, I just finished my class,” he said and you raised a brow as you checked your phone. “I had an eight AM lecture.” He added when he saw you read the time. 

“Oh,” you say, believing him with a nod. “That sucks, I hate lectures.”

“I think everyone hates lectures,” he says as you resume walking again. 

“I have a question.”

Bradley saw the opportunity and took it, “Shoot,”

You smile at him then give him a shy look. “Will your girlfriend get mad that we’re hanging out?”

That had his own smile fading a bit and his brows furrowing. “My girlfriend?” He asked, wondering if you had seen him and Bri around campus before and he just didn’t see you. If that’s the case, it was nice to know that Bri hadn’t gone around and told everyone she knows that she had dumped him like he was nothing at all to her. 

You nod and drop your gaze to his neck, and he thought you were going to ask about his scars or something, then you said, “She seems very possessive of you,”

Your index finger pokes at a sore spot on his throat and he knew then that you were referring to the hickey Bri had given him before breaking up with him a couple mornings ago.

“Oh, yeah, uh,” he trailed off as he felt his face flush in embarrassment. “That’s a really fucking embarrassing story, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Oh,” you repeat and give him a small smile. “That’s okay. Maybe one for another day then. My class is right here.” You point to the door next to him and he nods, grateful that you didn’t try to pry the story out of him.

“Okay,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck before running his fingers over his sore throat. “I’ll see you later then?”

You nod and give him a small wave before disappearing into the classroom, leaving Bradley to stand in the hallway for a few extra seconds with a dumb grin on his face before he quickly realized that he would probably be close to ten minutes late to his own class if he didn’t start walking right now. 

-

You were blushing pretty much the whole three hours you were at class for. 

Bradley was so hot and so not the kind of guy you would ever go for, which is exactly why you found yourself wanting him. You usually stayed with the attainable ones, hence why you were with your ex-boyfriend for three years before ending it. Luke was your best friend’s brother and he went to the same high school as you, so you got to see him everyday. It was easy with him, but now you wanted a challenge. 

While Luke was your first love, you knew he wasn’t going to be your last. Maybe you thought that at first, when the relationship was still new, but three years later, it was dulling for you. 

With that being said, you still weren’t entirely sure if Bradley was in a relationship or not, so you couldn’t get your hopes up too much. Maybe a good guy friend is all you need. 

Just then your phone went off, and you found yourself wishing it was him texting you, but you also knew better.

Luke♡: Fine, don’t answer me. But just know that I don’t plan on waiting forever for you to figure your shit out. 

You scoff and click on Bradley’s contact instead of answering your ex, but just as you began typing, a text appeared on your screen. 

Fratley: Hope your class went by super fucking fast, and it wasn’t boring.

You smile down at your phone and type with one hand while you use your other to rummage around for your keys in your bag. 

Funnily enough, it went by super fucking slowly, and it was a total bore. I blame you.  

You pull out your house key and were just about to insert it into the lock when he texted you again,

Fratley: That’s not really fair, I walked you to that class and everything. Would grabbing some food and shakes with me make it better?

You look at the time and see that it was nearing four thirty in the afternoon, and then your stomach growled. With a shake of your head, you drop your keys back into your bag and turn around as you replied to him.

You know what, it just might. Meet you at Five Guys in a bit?

Fratley: You read my mind.

Five Guys was around a thirty minute walk from campus, but you could probably make it in half that time if you really tried. You’d be risking looking like a sweaty mess when you got there, but it beat paying for a cab. 

You make it to the restaurant by quarter to five, and you spend a second or so admiring the nice looking red two door Jeep in the parking lot before entering the building. 

Bringing your hand up, you wipe away the thin layer of sweat that gathered on your browline as you look around the red and white interior. You drop your hand when you meet Bradley’s gaze, and you smile at him as you begin to walk again. 

He was sitting towards the back near the windows, and you were a bit out of breath when you finally reached him. 

You definitely reached your step goal today. 

“Hi,” you greeted as you dropped your bag onto the seat across from his at the booth. 

“Hey,” he said back with his cute smile that had you blushing like a teenager. 

“I’m sorry I’m a bit late,” you say as you sit down across from him and rest your palms against the table. 

He shrugged, that damn smile still painted on his lips. “It’s okay, we didn’t set up a time,”

You look at him for a few seconds before letting out an embarrassed laugh. “You’re right, that probably would’ve been a smart thing to do,” 

“That’s alright, we’re both idiots,” he grinned and you laughed again in agreement. He looked a bit nervous as he nodded towards one of the two paper cups on the table. “I ordered us shakes, I didn’t know what kind you liked, so I played it safe and got you vanilla.”

“That was nice,” you beam and he slid it over to you. “Thank you.”

He smiled before it promptly dropped. “I just realized that I should’ve waited to order these. You probably think I drugged it or something,”

You laughed loudly before slapping your hand over your mouth. “I wasn’t thinking that at all,” you say as you look down at the shake before back up at him. “And I still don’t think that since you would’ve just admitted to it, and despite what we just said, I think you’re smarter than you let on.”

Bradley quirked a brow as he sipped on his chocolate shake, then grimaced. “I hate paper straws,” 

You snort softly and shrug. “Save the turtles?”

He set his drink down with a look of fake disappointment on his face. “Oh no, you’re one of those girls?”

You lift a brow as you sip on the vanilla shake. “I won’t apologize for thinking about the environment, frat boy,” 

“So you’re telling me you prefer cardboard straws? Is that it?” He scoffed, pulling the soggy straw out of the cup and setting it down on a napkin. “It’s like drinking from a rolled up newspaper.” 

You laugh again and cover your mouth, your gaze softening at the smile that formed on his lips. “That’s oddly specific,”

“But am I wrong?” He asked, and you stayed silent, making him smirk as he sipped on the shake. “That’s what I thought.”

Half an hour goes by, and Bradley was a proper gentleman when he asked what you wanted, then went up and ordered for the both of you. You didn’t know anything about his family life, but you could tell that he was raised at least somewhat right, and that’s going off of the hours you’ve spent with him since that night at the party. 

You were already done with your food and were sipping on your shake as he asked, “Am I allowed to know who made you so mad yesterday? Because I was genuinely caught off guard when you told me to fuck off when I didn’t even say anything yet,”

You shake your head and smile as you pull out your nearly-dissolved paper straw. “I wasn’t telling you to fuck off,” 

“Who were you saying it to then?” He asked and smirked when you tossed the straw into the paper bag with your wrapper. “Told you, by the way.”

Rolling your eyes, you shrug. “It was just my ex,” you answer then add, “And you didn’t tell me anything.”

“I did, too,” he replied as he leaned back and crossed his arms. “Your ex, huh? Do you still like the guy?” He asked and you were probably imagining it, but you could’ve sworn he sounded the smallest bit jealous when he asked that. 

“Like is a strong word, Bradley,” you mutter and he huffs out a laugh. “In all seriousness, I think I stopped loving him long before we broke up.”

“You were in love?” He asked as he gathered up the wrappers and napkins, stuffing them into the paperbag afterwards. 

You nod and give him a grateful smile. “Yeah, he was my highschool sweetheart or whatever,” 

Bradley raised his brows as he nodded. “It was pretty serious then,” he trailed off and you nodded again. He fell silent for a few seconds before leaning over and bracing his elbows on the table. “Are you gonna get back together?”

Now it was your turn to be quiet as you took in his question. You hadn’t let yourself give it much thought, and hadn’t actually decided if you wanted Luke back or not. He was a past chapter in your life, a good one at that, but you wanted more. 

You wanted a fresh start. 

Luke was an amazing boyfriend, and the perfect match for highschool Y/n, but you were getting older. You were maturing, and you supposed Luke was, too, but not in the same way as you. 

You were entering your second year of college, and it was clear that he wasn’t the right fit for the person you were becoming. “I don’t know,” you answer, though you were starting to strongly feel like the relationship was great while it lasted, but maybe it was past the due date to move on. 

Bradley looked in thought for a couple of beats before he asked, “What happened?” He sounded hesitant to ask that, and you could appreciate his kindness and subtle interest in your life. 

“I guess I just…stopped missing him,” you confessed, and it was the first time you’d admitted to that. Your eyes widen a bit in embarrassment and you try to laugh it off as you sit up. “Anyway.”

He gives you a small smile as he stands up and throws away the bag. “Did you drive here?” 

“No,” you answer and stand up as well, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. 

Bradley nodded as he pulled out car keys from his pocket. “You called a ride then,” he stated and you shook your head, making him furrow his brows. 

“I walked,” you clarified and watched as his lips parted slightly before he looked out the windows and at the darkness that came with it being night time now. 

“You walked?” He asked and looked back at you, and you nod. “Are you planning on walking back, too?”

You shrugged with a smile. “I don’t like paying for rides,” 

Bradley laughed before taking your hand in his and unknowingly releasing butterflies all over your body with the simple gesture. “Good thing I don’t charge,” he replied and guided you out to the dark parking lot. 

“You have a car?” You ask, a bit shocked since not many people you knew drove or had their own cars. He nodded and your surprised expression dropped as you added, “You already paid for dinner, you don’t have to drive me home as well.”

“I’m not letting you walk half an hour back to campus in the dark by yourself,” he murmured as he led you over to the very Jeep you were looking at before dinner. “I was raised a bit better than that.” 

His words were sweet, but you were too busy looking at the pretty red car. “This is yours?” You ask the most obvious question and he holds up the keys in response, the Jeep label on the chain enough of an answer. “It’s nice.”

He laughed, “Thanks, it was a birthday present,”

“Recently?”

“No, I’ve had her for just under four years now,”

“Her?” You ask with a smirk as he lets go of your hand in order to open the passenger side door for you. 

A faint blush formed on his cheeks, but he wasn’t embarrassed as he nodded. “Yeah, her,”

“Why am I not surprised?” You laughed as he shook his head and closed the door before getting in on the drivers side. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He grunted as he started the car and effortlessly backed out of the parking space. 

He did that whole one hand on the wheel while the other was gripping your headrest thing, and you were powerless to stop the blush that formed on your face. “I don’t know,” you were actually at a loss for words at how you managed to find yourself in the continuous presence of a guy like him. 

Not wanting him to see how red your face had gotten, you lean forward and turn on your seat warmer. Bradley glanced over at you with a small grin as he kept his left hand on the steering wheel and his right elbow braced on the center console. “Are you cold?”

“No,” you answer and look out at the dark scenery. “I just like being warm when I’m in a car.”

He laughed, “Why am I not surprised,” 

You spare a look at him and see that he was wearing a boyish grin, and when you asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?” he just shrugged with a smirk.

Oh yeah, you two matched each other’s energy almost too well, and it was a bit concerning how quickly you found yourself liking him. 

“Thanks for dinner,” you say in an attempt to change the subject. “I can pay you back.”

“Please don’t,” he laughed again and glanced over at you before looking back at the dark road. “Five Guys is, like, the cheapest place to eat at. You also bought the tickets yesterday, so we’re nearly even now.”

“Nearly?” 

He nodded and looked over at you again as he said, “Nearly,” 

You fall silent after that, wondering if that meant that he wanted to keep hanging out after tonight. You made it back to campus and Bradley pulled over to the side of the road outside of your dorm, and he turned the car off before turning to you. “Thanks again,” you start and take off your seatbelt. “I like hanging out with you. I know I keep saying it, but you’re different from the other guys I’ve hung out with in the past.”

He smiled at that. “I like hanging out with you, too,” 

You debate on your next words, and you knew you didn’t have much to lose at this point, so you take a nervous breath before saying, “My ex and I aren’t getting back together. I know that earlier I said that I didn’t know, but I think I do. We had a few good years together, but I think it’s time to move on,”

Bradley nodded in understanding, “I hope you didn’t feel pressured to come to that conclusion. I didn’t mean to pry earlier,”

“Oh, no,” you wave him off and grab your bag. “I knew it before, I just wanted you to know, too, I guess.”

He nodded again and shifted in his seat. “I just got out of something, too,” he tells you. “It wasn’t as serious as yours was, but it still fucked me up a bit. I mean it, though, I really like hanging out with you. I almost wish we met sooner, I could use a few more good people in my life.”

You give him a comforting smile. “Yeah, I get that,” you trail off and sling your bag over your shoulder. “Have a good night, Bradley.” You hesitate for a few seconds before leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he laughed softly before smiling over at you. 

“Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow? Or later in the week?” He asked with that same smidge of desperation that had you nodding in response. “Have a good night, too, Y/n.” 

You waved at him as you closed the car door and pulled out your keys, and you tried not to think about the fact that he waited until you were fully inside the building before he started the car again and left.

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch. 6

(Hes sitting next to you in this pic :D)

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst, SMUT Summary: You search for Daryl after Negan's lineup. You didn't understand the trauma he went through, and eventually you decide enough is enough, and you leave. Notes: The last chapter! Somewhat proofread. Filled with tensions overflowing and then some sex. I had a lot of fun writing this and want to thank @louifaith again for allowing me to write out her idea. It's also pretty long because I didn't want to break it into two chapters, it didn't really make sense that way. Longish read, but longish smut at the end if you're just here for sex and want to skip ahead.

When you found out he left on some halfcocked revenge mission, you were pissed. And then you learned nearly everyone else had gone too, you were pissed and confused. 

The rare presence of the others had become more common than the familiar presence of Daryl. He was gone more often than not now, either out with Aaron or off with Rick. Even when he was home, he was never really there. He didn't laugh at your crude insults about others anymore, he didn't want to spend all day with you out hunting in the woods. It looked like was also making an effort to smoke less, often declining your outstretched cigarette. He was the one who got you to smoke once. You used to hate it, but eventually associated the smell of tobacco with him, and you grew to love it.

You couldn't read him like a book like you once did. He'd become overly serious, distant, and uncharacteristically concerned with the well-being of others. 

You had half a mind to just leave. The only reason you hadn't left months ago was Daryl, but the way he was treating you felt like a slap in the face. It hurt. For the first time in so long you hurt. You felt utterly and completely alone, leading you to once again close yourself off from the others, spending all your time hunting or scavenging for substances in the city that could make you feel better. You scored an unopened bottle of painkillers, something you once hated, and drowned your sorrows with a stuffed nose and a foul post nasal drip. 

The savior issue never really seemed like a big deal to you when it first arose. Some asshole raiders trying to make a point, you didn't give a shit. Rick and Daryl would handle it like they always did. 

You took a deep drag from your cigarette as you watched the front gates being opened, two heavy duffle bags over each of your shoulders. You’d come to terms with it, you were leaving, and that was it. You weren't some obedient housewife that didn’t mind the absence of Daryl, you were his best friend and you couldn’t put up with the dramatic emotions anymore. You were fully prepared for the conversations that would ensue, a list of reasons you should stay, maybe some light pleading, so when you saw what came from those gates you froze. 

The muscles in your jaw throbbed as you listened to Rick's pitiful attempt at retelling you what happened, his eyes red and puffy, his hair wet and matted to his forehead. He couldn't, so he gave up, and drug his feet into the house, moving in a way that closely resembled the dead. Carl followed, and you realized Maggie was missing too. Your heart dropped. 

“What the fuck is wrong with him? What happened?” You gaped, looking from face to face, searching desperately for an answer, only to be met with the ghosts of their former selves. You spotted Aaron and realized he was almost never out without Daryl, and your confusion snapped violently to panic. Michonne was really the only one who wasn't too shocked to speak. She told you everything in great detail, her words cold and harsh as she made her anger towards your insensitive behavior well known. Each word she spoke felt like a curse, spitting at you with such venom you'd never had directed towards you before. You deserved it. 

You weren't a good person like them. The deaths of Glenn and Abraham didn't make you cry, go through all the stages of grief and have a mental crisis, in the moment she told you they just felt like problems you’d deal with later, you didn’t have the time. Not when you still had no idea where Daryl was. 

Despite not being a good person, you reacted to the news in a way that was very impressive by your standards. You didn't scream at anyone, or punch Gabriel in the face, you just threw your already packed bags in the car and set off. 

You chain-smoked an entire pack of cigarettes the first hour of searching. You never did find the saviors home, even though you didn't stop searching to sleep the first few days. You found the location of the massacre, a few shredded pieces of clothing and blood stained dirt. You were brought to furious tears at the thought of the scenario where you were in Daryl's position, and him yours. Your first assumption was that he would've already tracked you down by then, him and his one man army breaking you out and taking you far away from the entire state. Then the second, and more daunting assumption, would he even look? Would he be too busy taking care of Rick and the others, the task of rescuing you put on a back burner? 

You told yourself maybe you were just impulsive and stupid, maybe Daryl in that scenario was just being smart and careful, you were just a guns blazing idiot who didn't think far into the future. 

It felt like you'd been out there for weeks, living off a diet of cigarettes and various illegal substances. You nearly stuck a knife in the face of  a woman who was unlucky enough to walk into the same store you were in. 

“No, please, don't.” She sniveled pathetically, her hands raised to the sides of her head in surrender. “I don't have anything. Please. I can take you to my camp, we've got food and water and medicine-”

“Dude, shut up. Just thought you were a walker. Goddamn.” You sheathed your knife and stood back, the tip of your tongue held between your teeth in thought. “But I'm hungry as fuck!”

She took you back to her camp, which was extremely impressive. And just in time, too, your stomach growled noisily and you felt the small waves of hunger nausea begin. 

“Put your gun away, please.” She pleaded in a hush whisper as you stood in front of the wooden gates. 

You looked to her with furrowed eyebrows, your cheeks hollowed out as you pulled on your twentieth cigarette that day. You really needed to cut back. “No.” You muttered around the cigarette, eventually sighing and slinging your rifle over your shoulder with a dramatic eye roll. 

The sight of Rick and Maggie chatting outside with a small group of others felt like you'd been slapped in the face. They looked just as stunned as you were, pausing their conversation. You stood there for about ten solid seconds before the silence finally broke. 

Rick opened his mouth to speak but you raised your hand, stopping him. “Don't have time. Just gonna eat and leave.” 

“Daryl's here.” The sound of Maggie's harsh voice halted your route to the front of the mansion. You couldn't hide the look on your face, an intense ‘this better not be a lie’ mix of anger and disbelief. She pointed up to your previous destination with raised eyebrows and you took off. 

He almost punched you in the face when you jumped him. He was still wet from a shower, littered in various sized bandages and bruises, wearing a fresh set of clothes. He smelled like laundry detergent and cheap flowery shampoos. 

“Holy shit I thought they killed you. Holy shit. Mother fucker.” You babbled into his chest as he squeezed you so hard your back cracked. 

It felt indescribable being in his arms again. It also felt incredibly different. You'd hugged him hundreds of times but something about this particular hug stood out. It was desperate and deep, you didn’t worry about coming off as soft or being too much. Your fingers dug into the sleeves of his shirt around his biceps, your face buried into his chest, and his hands were all over you. He couldn't decide where to touch you, your arms, your face, your hair, your back, they would move from place to place as he cemented into his mind that you were really there, there in his arms, holding and petting him like you'd always done before. His mind flashed with images of him back in that cell and his throat tightened, the slightest whisper of a whimper sounding in the back of his mouth. He held you tighter and kissed the top of your head, rocking you in his arms for a few silent moments as you pulled yourself together. 

“Where the hell you been? Rick said ya left with all your shit.” His voice was tight, the way it would get when he would try not to cry, along with raising in pitch a little. 

You looked up and smiled softly, seeing him through a sheen of wet tears. “Doesn't matter.” You hummed as you stroked his cheek. “Really. It doesn’t. I've been looking for you, only reason I'm here is because some bitch thought I was robbing her and told me about this place. Couldn't keep looking if I was starving.” You buried your face back in the fabric of his shirt and sighed deeply. 

“Told ya, I ain't leavin'. I ain't dyin’ neither.” His warm words in that deep rumble resulted in your racing heart finally slowing its pace. 

“What happened? Are you okay?” You pulled back from his chest to look up at his face. He looked miserable, it broke your heart. He looked away from your gaze, unable to keep eye contact, which was something he never struggled with before when it came to you. “Daryl?”

His head immediately dropped and his forehead collided with your shoulder. Your heart banged against your ribcage and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, stroking the back of his neck and kissing the side of his head while he stifled his soft sobs.

“Let's leave. C'mon.” You parted from him, only to be pulled back by his grip on your wrist. 

“Y’jus’ got here.” Daryl furrowed his brows, his eyes wet with tears that he quickly blinked away.

“Yeah, to eat so I could keep looking for you. I've found you, so let's go.”

“Go where?” 

You gritted your teeth as his grip on you loosened. “Anywhere else, I don't care.” You said through clenched teeth, your gaze intensifying. “We're done with this shit. Not our problem anymore. Let's go. I'm not letting these people get you hurt again. Never, Daryl.”

Daryl had never been the reason you cried, at least, that's what he thought. So when you started cracking at his rejection, his heart shattered. Every bone in his body yearned for him to hold you, bring you back into his arms and make the pain stop. It hurt even more to see that you weren't just upset, you were pissed, disgusted at the fact that you were showing such weakness in front of the same person who made you cry. 

“I gotta. ‘Jus need to do this.” He attempted to comfort you after your rage at your perceived betrayal faded into tears of defeat. “M’doin’ it for us. Ya gotta trust me on this.” 

There was a small glimmer of hope then, and you allowed yourself to feel it. You were desperate to believe him, and desperate to believe everything would turn out alright. Rick and everyone else would deal with Negan, you'd scratch that burning itch for revenge, and everything would be okay. 

Rick did deal with it, that much came true. At the cost of his son's life, he defeated the saviors.

You were more than willing to fight. You’d been dying for a purpose, and being a soldier in the war against Negan was exactly what you needed. You looked like a cheesy action movie protagonist with two long arm guns on your back and two pistols in each hand. You used more ammo that day than you had in your entire life. God. You wished Merle had been there to see you and Daryl. 

You didn't get the revenge you so desperately craved. You absolutely lost it when Negan was defeated. After Daryl decided against killing Dwight, you lunged at the man like a rabid fox, fully prepared to end his life with just your teeth and hands, only to end up clawing and wriggling in Daryl's grasp. You could've gotten over that eventually, it would take a really long time, sure, Dwight was a brainwashed cult member and did what he did because he was told to. And he'd get his, even if you had to restrain yourself. Fine. It’s fine.

But Rick sparing Negan? 

No. Your reaction to that earned you the reputation of the group's feral animal. You shared the same reaction as Maggie, but unlike her giving up after a while of being held back, you ended up earning a matching set of rope bracelets and anklets.

“You'll have to kill me.” Your throat burned as Daryl tossed you in the back of a blue Toyota camry. He nearly had to force Dwight into the passenger seat at gunpoint, the terror in the backseat scaring him more than the thought of death. 

Your spit was red and thick as it smacked onto Dwight's battered face, blending with the blood that made him unrecognizable. He was barely able to get to his feet after Daryl's threat of death if he was to return, blindly picking up the car keys in the mess of blood spattered leaves. 

The relationship between you and Maggie quickly became a deep friendship as you plotted to kill Negan. Neither of you were allowed to see him in his cell without someone to stand guard, but Maggie even moreso. With enough time you were able to get down there alone, gun in hand, only to be stopped by Michonne, who had apparently come for the same reason. 

“I haven't seen you much before. What's your name.” Negan's eyes followed you as you paced back and forth in front of his cell, seething from the fact that Michonne wouldn't let you kill him yet. She had her own unknown motives, which didn't really matter to you, but all this talking was driving you insane. 

“You don't need to know my name.” You muttered, cutting your eyes at the man. “You look so much smaller than I remembered you looking in that field.”

He winced at your words, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Oh, sweetheart. That hurts. Actually, I've been told I'm pretty impressive.”

He watched you as you continued pacing, your hands sweaty and your eyes wild with rage, confusion, and confliction. A smirk spread on his face. “Look at you. Like a lion in a cage. Well, I’m the one in the cage, but. Coulda used a psycho bitch like you. If you were on my side that day, phew!”

You pulled your gun from your waistband and pulled the trigger. Negan raised hands and jumped. Your heart dropped when you were met with an empty click. You inhaled sharply through your nose and pulled out the clip, which was completely empty. 

Daryl. He dragged you out of the basement, thankful he’d unloaded your guns the night before. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what you were planning. He didn't care that you were pissed, Rick wanted Negan alive, so that's what he was going to stay, even if he did want the prick dead.

It didn't take long for you to pick up on Daryl's trauma. He was good at hiding it from others, nothing much had changed aside from him being quieter. But once your selfish rage had settled you noticed small differences. He slept closer to you at night, no longer on the other side of the mattress, and his nightmares became more violent. He'd thrash in his sleep, tossing and turning and sweating, you found yourself waking him up more times than you could count. Each time he'd get real quiet, maybe from shame, and walk outside to smoke a cigarette. You'd follow him each time and sit quietly on the porch steps, not caring that he didn't offer you a hit. He looked like he needed all he could get. 

You saw him crying with Carol once. His head dipped down and his forehead pressed against her shoulder. If it had been long ago you would've felt hot at the sight, assuming he obviously must've felt closer to her since he hadn't cried like that with you since his capture, but you weren't as shallow and selfish as you once were. Your heart ached for him, wishing he would open up and tell you what happened, you could comfort him too, you wished you could tell him that. 

“Wanna go hunting?” You asked one day, picking up your new hunting rifle, a Savage model 99 that you'd replaced your broken bow with. Daryl shrugged from his spot on the chair beside your bedroom table, not looking up from his work. He was almost always making new bolts in his free time then. He had a pile of twenty-two sitting next to him. 

“Come on, I'm craving venison.” 

He inhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging. 

“Seriously, we haven't hung out in forever man.”

“Hang out?” He said it like you asked him for a ‘playdate’. “What're ya, twelve?”

“No, I'm an adult who misses you, jackass.” You muttered, kicking one of his boots across the floor closer to him. “You've made two hundred arrows in the past week man. I think you can take a break. Yeah, don't look at me like that. I've counted.”

It was when you were alone in the woods that he broke down. You hadn't even asked, he just told you after you took down a buck. He didn't cry at first, he gave a vague retelling, it was only when he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders from behind that he cried. His head hung low as his chest shook with quiet sobs, his hands laying idle and nervous in his lap, his eyes looking down at the stump he sat on. You rested your head in the crook of his neck and held him for a while, your fingers occasionally giving his biceps a reassuring squeeze if his breathing grew too ragged. 

“I'll kill him. I promise. I'll find a way.”

When you were fifteen you skipped school for the first time. Your freshman year, Daryl's too. It was one of the only times you hung out that wasn't just the right time, right place. He was the one who talked you into it, since the two of you shared a history class. He brought cigarettes and a wild assortment of drugs, no doubt nabbed from Merle. 

“We should do this more.” Daryl had said as you walked the power line trails in the woods behind the school. He shrugged when you looked at him, his gaze falling to the grass in front of him. “Hang out, I mean.” 

“Yeah, we should.” You flashed a rare smile, earning one from him as well, the purple skin around his eye wrinkling. 

You never did. You were too busy with school work and getting beat on by your withdrawing mother. Daryl wasn't really busy, in fact, he was alone most of his teenage years. Always alone out in the woods. Sometimes he'd miss school for a week, living in his father's tent deep in the forest, spending his time learning to live on his own. His father never noticed, not until the school called and he got one of the worst beatings he'd ever gotten. You saw him at school a few days after that, one of his last days before he dropped out. 

He looked awful. Busted lips, bruises all over his arms, light purple handprints on his neck, and deep purple blotches around his eyes and jaw. The school called the police, but nothing ever happened. Daryl told them it was from a fight with some kid, and they happily accepted that answer, eager to miss out on the paperwork. 

“We should just leave.” You said after he pulled the cigarette back away from your lips to take a drag of his own. 

“I would.” He muttered as he held the smoke in his lungs, watching the kids in the far off soccer field chasing the ball. His legs dangled off the edge of the school roof, occasionally swinging a bit. 

“I would too.” You wouldn't. Not until you got your brother back. You looked at him, feeling an unfamiliar twist in your heart when you saw the way he flinched under your sudden gaze. “I'd kill him if I could.” 

You truly meant it. Even though Daryl was barely an acquaintance at that point, you would have killed his father if you got the chance. Daryl didn't mean much to you to be brutally honest, you didn't care to form a deep friendship with anyone, but you shared the bond of trauma from parental abuse and that was deeper than any normal friendship. He could leave, never see you again, and you wouldn't be upset, but if you ever had to witness his father touch him it would shatter your soul. 

You promised yourself you'd kill anyone who ever hurt him after that. You almost murdered Andrea when you found out she shot him. You risked being eaten alive by walkers just to make sure the Governor was really dead. You beat Dwight until Daryl dragged you off, if he hadn't done that you would've killed him. 

Things got a lot worse after the day of your failed assassination attempt. Daryl was never home anymore, either at Hilltop or Ezekiel's kingdom. You had reached the point of considering leaving again. The emotional rollercoaster you were going through was taking a heavy toll on your already fucked mental health.

He could see the effect his absence had on you, and it made him feel like shit. There wasn’t much he could do, he had so many responsibilities and he would never ask you to come with him and Rick every time they packed up and went on long trips every five seconds. It felt selfish to him, he didn’t know that you’d be more than happy to accompany him. 

His hands on your tense shoulders as you sat on the edge of your bed did wonders to loosen you up. You set your gun down beside you and looked up to him, forcing a smile. 

“C'mon sweetheart. Wanna show you somethin’.”

He took you on a long walk in the woods to a secluded pond that once belonged to a fisherman, obvious by the raggedy dock and small wooden shack filled with all sorts of fishing tools. There was still homemade canned fish in his cupboards. 

“Gonna stay here for a few days. Jus’ you an’ me.” 

You watched him over your can of trout, chewing slowly. “Really?”

Daryl shrugged and stabbed his fork into his own can. “Yeah. Ya need it.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “We need it.”

Your heart swelled with warm joy, a smile spread on your face and you tried your best to contain the satisfaction his gift had given you. You missed your best friend more than anyone you’d ever missed before after your baby brother. You’d come to terms with the more than likely possibility that he was dead, and so were your parents. It took a long time and many different weeks spent searching when you were back in Georgia. 

You had a fantastic time with him. You fished all morning, talked all afternoon, and ate your fill of fresh and canned fish. It wasn't long before you set up your bedrolls in the middle of the shack and blew out your candles. It felt amazing to sleep next to him again, you couldn't properly put into words how much you missed him. The feeling of his large warm body next to yours as you fell asleep had you thinking that it was all worth it. He was making an effort to spend time with you again, and with that effort came the sparks of hope, hope that you were getting your best friend back.

You woke up the first night spent with him in the fishing shack to see moonlight seeping through the holes in the tin roof. You rubbed your blurry eyes and sat up, propping yourself up with an elbow on the floor. 

“Daryl?” You murmured sleepily as your eyes came to focus in the dim light. His bedroll was still beside yours, albeit empty. You waited a few minutes before walking outside, assuming he just had to go piss or something. 

Ten minutes passed before you walked back into the shack, now carrying a small candle to light the room, cursing when the wax dripped down your knuckles. The amber glow illuminated his bedroll, bringing attention to a small white square. You leaned down and picked up the piece of paper, squinting in effort to read his handwriting. 

The pain in your chest was deep and dark. Growing up you had grown used to being disappointed by your parents and people around you. It never surprised you. Even now you didn’t expect much from people, but Daryl was that exception. So when you read his little apology, claiming Rick called on him through his walkie to request his help in the Kingdom, you decided you’d had enough.

He had been in the Kingdom for about two weeks until you heard from Rick that they were back.

“We're leaving.” You seethed the moment you stepped into your new shared bedroom with Daryl. It was upstairs in one of the apartments in Alexandria, no longer the basement in Rick's house. You had a nice king sized bed, lots of dressers and shelves, a big ass tv, and even a gaming console that once belonged to Carl. Daryl had only slept in that bed three times since you moved in months ago.

He sighed your name and stood from his seat at the table, setting down the disassembled gun he'd been cleaning. “No we ain't. Cut that shit out.” 

“I can't be here anymore. I can't. I can't.” You began hyperventilating as you ripped the dresser drawer fully out, falling to your knees and quickly grabbing the clothes that spilled out. 

“Stop.” When you didn't comply he made you stop, grabbing your wrists and forcing you to look at him. He spoke in that serious tone that felt like a stab to the chest, his eyes burning holes into yours. “I'm not leavin'.” 

You froze at his words. Your mouth opened and your lips trembled, your breath catching in your throat. The words never came to you. You just stared at him with wide eyes and a horrified look of disbelief.

Daryl didn't speak either. He stood his ground, maintaining a firm gaze, his grip on your wrists slowly loosening. 

It hurt. And that made you angry. 

“Who even are you anymore?” You hissed, tearing your hands away from him and shooting up on your feet. “I never see you anymore, you're cold, distant.” He got to his feet, accepting each blow of your words with this calm face that turned your anger into lividness. 

“You promised me you'd never leave me. You promised you'd always be the one thing Daryl, the one thing that wouldn't change, wouldn't leave, wouldn't hurt me, I kept my promise!” Your finger hammered against your own chest in reference. “You say you're never leaving but you already left! I can see it in your eyes, don't look at me like you have no idea what I'm talking about.” Your face burned. “I can see it. The pity, the disdain. The only reason you haven't just kicked me out is cause you feel like you're obligated to me now, or maybe you're scared I'm some loose canon and I'll burn this fucking house down-”

Daryl had heard enough, he lurched forward until he was inches away from you, his nostrils flared due to his increasingly heavy breathing. “You're fuckin’ delusional!” He spat. “You don't think this is hard on me too? Don't think I'd rather be out there livin’ in some cabin with you? That shit ain't happenin’, these people are family. I ain't leavin' ‘em neither. Shit don't mean I don't care ‘bout ya anymore. We ain't in Atlanta, ‘ts not like that anymore. Ain't just me you ‘n Merle.”

“We should've just left. We should've just left.” You repeated in a breathy whisper, your glazed over eyes locked on his chest. 

“Yeah? Well, we didn't, now we can't. Now I won't.” The purposeful enunciation of the last word was the straw that broke the camel's back, and he immediately regretted it as soon as your eyes squeezed shut. “G’damnit.” 

“Fine.” Your breath was shaky, and you resumed packing. 

He found it impossible to stop you, impossible to move. In reality all it would take from him was a simple request for you to stay, but he couldn't even manage that. It felt like watching a fire you started get out of control, he knew he still had the power to stop it, but he was too stunned to move. 

You zipped up the same second duffle bag you'd packed with the same intention on leaving, just as you'd done before. This time though, it wasn't the same. It felt too final. You knew it would be the last time. Daryl did too, and he still didn’t stop you.

You’d set up camp deep in the woods down a dirt road that led to a pond. You slept in your car with your campfire a few feet away, a pot of wild carrots and rabbit simmering over the coals. It smelt amazing due to your stolen beef bouillon cubes, but you didn’t really have the motivation to eat. You flicked away the first cigarette of your last pack and stared into the red hot coals, watching them ebb and glow until the flash of something large and dark caught your eye. 

You stared in disbelief as you watched his figure move through the thick trees, making his way over to your little camp beside the car you'd stolen from Alexandria. He had a heavy bag with him. 

He plopped his bag down next to your fire and sat down, helping himself to a bowl of your stew. He said nothing, not even looking up at you as he finished your supper.

“The hell are you doing here?” 

He looked up at you and sucked the grease from his fingertips, the empty bowl now discarded at his side. You had no idea how he’d managed to get his fingers coated in rabbit fat, it was fucking soup and he used a spoon. “Ts’it look like?”

You couldn't move, your feet glued to the debris of the forest floor. Your mind spun with questions. If he was actually willing to leave with you, leave all those people behind, why had he shut you out? Why had he changed? What changed? 

“I don't want you here. It's an obvious act of charity.” You finally spoke, watching as he lit a wrinkled cigarette. “You told me yourself-”

“Will ya shut up?” He squinted up at you through the burn of smoke. “Jus’ walked six  damn days to find ya. M’not leavin'.” 

You sat on the opposite side of the fire in silence. He scooted around to sit next to you, and held his cigarette up to your lips. You took a weak pull and sighed. After a while of not speaking, you broke the silence. 

“You're so different. Changed so much”

He nodded at your words, his head tilted down to stare at the leaves between his legs. “Had to.”

“Why?” The question burst from your lips so quickly that it surprised you. 

“You.” He took a deep pull off his cigarette and blew it out the opposite side of his mouth to avoid blowing it directly in your face. “This ain't the kind of life you deserve. Tryin’ to get that for ya. That little house ya dreamed of living in, one with a screened in porch for plants ‘n shit. Life that ya ain't spendin’ hungry, cold, scared.”

He paused for a moment, taking another long drag. “Wanted me to be better too. The kinda man to pick ya flowers, take ya on dates, all that stupid shit.” He flicked the spent cigarette into the fire and leaned back against your car door. 

If it was possible, you were feeling every emotion all at once, in such a rapid and disorienting fashion that it looped back around and made you too shocked to feel. 

He delved deeper, explaining that he felt you deserved better than who he once was, Merle’s echo, a loud and angry asshole, then turned into a cold and traumatized shell, never allowing himself to feel vulnerable with you again. When he finally broke out of it and realized exactly what he wanted, he worked on himself in a determined attempt to be the man you dreamed of marrying as a kid.He worked on your surroundings as well, making sure to eliminate any possible threat in every colony that had even the slightest chance of risking your livelihood. But more importantly, he wanted to be yours. The type of husband you described when you were thirteen years old, cleaning the blood from his swollen ear one of the nights he slept on your back porch. 

“I'm not gonna be like my mom.” You had said firmly, tossing away the bloody tissue paper. “I'm gonna get a good husband and I'm not gonna mess it all up like she did.”

“A good husband?” He questioned curiously, wincing as you dabbed his ear with rubbing alcohol. 

“Yeah, like…. He'll take me on dates, open doors for me, buy me cool stuff, uh….” You trailed off in thought. “He's gonna build me a house too. With a screen porch that I can put a hundred plants in, and he won't be allowed to smoke in it. Oh, he won't smoke, actually. Or drink, or do drugs. He'll never hit me or yell at me like my mom did to my dad, and to me. He'll be handsome too. And smart.”

You were brought to the present with a jolt as Daryl’s hand touched your knee, making you jump. You didn't notice your eyes had started watering and you quickly went to discreetly dab them dry. 

“Guess I fucked up. M’sorry. Was a real piece of shit.”

“No,” your voice broke as you stopped him, grabbing his hand on your knee and giving it a squeeze. “Complete opposite of a piece of shit. I had the wrong idea, I should be the one apologizing.”

“Tsh. Nah.” Daryl waved you off and shook his head. “Should’a told ya. Wasn't thinkin' right.” 

The two of you sat in thoughtful silence until the embers began to grow dim. The forest was thick, so even though the sun was visible as it sank lower and lower, it soon became too dark to see properly. 

“My…” you broke the silence, searching for the right word. “Aspirations have changed since then.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Several seconds of silence.

“How'so?”

“Well, I don't care if he smokes, or does drugs, or curses or can't take me out on a date. He doesn't have to build me a house, but that's still an option.” Daryl snorted, and you went on. “But he does have to own a crossbow, ride a motorcycle without a helmet even though I tell him to, and he definitely needs this,” your finger tapped on the skull tattoo on the back of his hand before sliding up his arm to stroke a line down his back, “and these tattoos. And this.” You touched the mole over his upper lip. “And he definitely has to slur all his words together because of his accent.” 

“That's all, huh?” He joked softly, watching you draw your hand away from his face. “Y’got some low standards for a husband.”

“Oh, right, I forgot. He also has to go back to his family, because that's where he belongs.” There was a quick flash of hurt on his face, his lips parting and his eyes narrowing, so you continued. “And because that's where my dream house is going to be built.” 

In all your years knowing Daryl Dixon, you'd never been sexually intimate. You'd never had sex, flirtation only being reserved for playful teasing banter, you'd never really kissed, aside from that one night at the Greene farm. You'd laid with each other multiple times, more often than not sleeping curled up together in the woods or on the floor of some house. Despite never being sexually intimate there was an unspoken mutual understanding of your relationship, you were together, but not in the traditional standard sense. Neither of you ever had interest in a relationship with anyone, that was simply out of the question. Why have a partner when your best friend is everything you need? 

He became your partner at some point, maybe that's why it caused so much anguish to the both of you when you left. But it was only that night that you solidified it. And the next morning, and in the back of the car on your way back, and on the hood of the car, and after your shower back home, and after dinner, on your bed, on the floor, a second time after that, right before bed, and again the moment you woke up. 

It started with a kiss, which just so happened to be his second ever kiss, the first being you in the back of Dale’s RV. You wouldn't have ever guessed, the way he kissed with so much passion and vigor felt akin to a man kissing the same pair of lips he'd kissed his entire life. And you would have never guessed he was a virgin. 

Each touch was as if he was handling precious glassware. He never took off any of your clothes, he'd just gently tug at your shirt until you got the hint and undressed yourself. 

At some point you moved to the back of the car, he laid you down and closed the door behind him. Your soft pants and gasps quickly led to the windows fogging over, and by the end of it there were beads of precipitation dribbling down the glass. 

He led graciously. His fingers were gentle but firm against your clit through your panties, working hard and with determination to give you the orgasm you deserved. He obeyed your requests for ‘circles, ah, softer, to the left, more’, and before long he was a master in the art of making you come. 

Daryl wanted to give you oral, but you quickly pulled him back up, shaking your head as you gasped for air. “N-no, please. You. Need you.” 

It was shocking that he didn't feel embarrassed when he came early. You'd reached down to stroke his cock, only getting in a few strokes before he pulled away with a strangled gasp, spilling his hot cum on your bare stomach. He didn't have time to feel embarrassed because only seconds later you were taking him in your desperate mouth, giving it your all to make him hard again. 

He didn't take long. After stiffening in your mouth he eased your head away, maneuvering you on your back in such an effortless way that it made you look like you weighed nothing. Due to your wetness and unimaginable arousal it didn't hurt at all when he finally pushed in after rubbing his cock all over your desperate slick flesh. 

You cried out anyway. Your jaw dropped and your eyes rolled back, clutching at his bare shoulders when you felt his pelvis fully connect with you. 

“F-fuck.” You groaned as your eyes rolled back, digging your fingers deeper into his skin.

He let out a moan then, a light and vulnerable sound. You could feel him shaking on top of you as he fought not to finish again. It broke your heart, knowing he wanted to have sex with you so badly, to please you like you had him. 

You stayed as still as humanly possible while you waited for him to move. 

Daryl’s breath slowed and he moved, finally. He fucked you slow at first, slow and deep thrusts that managed to bury his dick further and further inside you each time. With each thrust he let out either a shaky whimper or a deep grunt, and soon he was picking up the pace, fucking a moan out of you each time he drove his throbbing cock back inside. 

When his hand connected with the warm skin of your torso you whimpered, tossing your head back against the car seat. His hands stroked your sides, rough and dirty fingers scraping against your nipples and breasts. He gave one a firm squeeze, eliciting a sharp moan from you, one that he eagerly swallowed down with his hungry mouth, kissing you deeply and feverishly. He was breathing heavy through his nose, hot puffs of air sending waves of heat across your upper lip and cheeks.

A rough slam of his pelvis against yours sent the tip of his cock so deep it was almost painful, your gasp choked in your tight throat, your thighs squeezing the life out of his torso. He groaned at how responsive you were, his hot wet lips sliding down your face to start kissing your neck. 

Daryl was quiet in the sense that he didn't say much. He groaned and whimpered, sure, but he hadn’t said a word since entering you. Which was totally fine by you, but you were a sucker for dirty talk. It was one of your favorite parts of sex.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined, hoping to get a response. He just grunted, a possible returned compliment, his head not moving from the crook of your neck. 

A noticeable increase in his pacing had all thoughts vanishing from your mind in a puff of smoke. You could feel the side of his jaw clenching against your neck, the skin hot and prickly with stubble, the friction eventually becoming uncomfortable. As if he could read your mind he raised his head and looked down at you, the tip of his tongue peeking between his teeth, looking like a man in deep, oh, deep, concentration. 

“Fu-uh-uck-” You babbled, your heavy eyelids shutting against the brutal force of his thrusts. You grabbed onto his biceps again and held on for dear life, giving them a squeeze each time he gave a really deep thrust. 

“That’s it.” Your heart jumped in your chest at the sound of his voice, it was gravely and sounded from the base of his throat. You felt your lower stomach do that delicious flip sensation, your clit throbbing in response to his voice. 

“Mmm’god.”

“I know. I know.” He breathed, taking a second to readjust himself between your legs before going back to his artistic thrusting. He was grinding against you then, barely pulling out, using the full weight of his hips to force himself as deep as possible while he ground into you. You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, it was a miracle that a virgin could fuck like that. He was a savant at something he’d never done before. You came hard around his throbbing dick, your walls clenching down so hard that it ripped his orgasm straight out of his body. 

You gasped, your fingers tightening around his flexed biceps as your orgasm shook through you in violent waves. You moved your hips on your own, grinding up and against his pelvis to draw your pleasure  out for  as long as possible. 

Daryl wasn't expecting it, he just came. His jaw dropped and he held onto the nearest body part, which just so happened to be your neck. He didn’t choke you, which came as a slight dismissible disappointment, he just held onto you with his large hands as he finished. It was so sudden and unexpected that he couldn’t control the sounds he made, better for you, he let out this beautiful high moan that sent flashes of Daryl in Atlanta behind your closed eyes. His body shuttered and jerked as every single rope of his cum flooded your insides, coating your vice like walls like spilled paint. 

You didn’t give him time to recuperate. You squirmed under him, swapping your positions, and took his softening cock in your mouth. He groaned under you, grabbing you by your hair to pull you away, only to shudder when he felt his cock growing hard again. You smirked against the tip as he gently pulled you back down.

Halfway through he tugged you off of him, the two of you switching spots once again. You whined when you felt his lips connect with your puffy clit, your mind swirling as he used the flexed tip of his tongue to drift between your slick folds. 

“Oh god, daryl.” You panted and ran your fingers through your sweaty hair to push it back over your head. You were either extremely sensitive due to the two orgasms, or he was an extremely skilled pussy eater. Either way you came fast, clenching your thighs around his head to clamp his mouth tight against you. He didn’t ease up as you came, his tongue and lips pulling tricks you didn’t think possible, drawing out your orgasm longer than any time previously. 

He slid up between your legs, planting kisses from your wet mess up your stomach to your chest. He suddenly bit down on one of your nipples, gentle at first, but the moan that came from your lips had him tightening his teeth.

You were under the impression that he would ease you down from your high with light kisses and soft touches, but apparently, he had other plans. His cock plunged back into you before you had any idea what was happening, and he quickly set a fast and intense pace. His hands slipped around both of your wrists and pulled, using the leverage to both fuck you deeper and keep you firmly in place.

If you could’ve seen the state you were in, you’d be a red hot embarrassed bitch. Your mouth was hanging open, your eyes fluttering between open and closed, sounds coming from your throat that envied any moan and whine to ever come out of a woman's mouth. Your hair kept falling back in your face each time his hips slammed into yours, no matter how many times you hastily pushed it away or tucked it behind your ears. You looked at him for as long as you could, but you were too stimulated, it was too hot, he was too beautiful, you had to let them fall shut as you came again.

As cliche as it sounds, your final orgasm, for that night at least, was world shattering. You didn’t care how loud you were or what types of faces you were making. Your body was completely out of your control, your brain on pause as it struggled to deal with the flood of dopamine and oxytocin. 

Daryl wasn’t looking any better, he’d ran miles before and came out looking more put together. He huffed as he came inside you yet again, his dick twitching with each spurt of cum. He braced himself on his elbows on either side of your body, his head drooping down as he managed a few sloppy thrusts. He muttered something then, something you were too fucked up to make out through his thick and slurred accent.

When he finally drew his red and tender dick out of you his heart seemed to skip a beat. The two loads spilled out the second he withdrew, trickling down your folds and over the swollen head of his dick. That was a sight he’d remember till the day he died.  

You fought to catch your breath after he all but collapsed on top of you. It was pure bliss for a few moments, and then it was too hot and too close. Before you could say anything he lifted himself off of you, still waging his own war against his lungs. 

“Getting old there, huh?” You teased, sliding up into a sitting position after grabbing your panties. Yeah, he's old, it's not the fact you just did the same amount of exercise as swimming across the atlantic ocean.

“Shut up.” He breathed as he wiped his damp hair from his face. 

After a few moments of silence, apart from the sounds of your breathing, you dressed yourselves and began loading all your shit into your car. 

“You really walked six days? No bike, no car?” You questioned as he plopped down into the driver's seat, the flame of his lighter illuminating his face. The smell of cigarette smoke had you leaning over and he pressed the filter against your lips. 

“No bike.”

“That’s kind of stupid.”

“Huh. Rich.” He smirked around the cigarette at you before glancing over his shoulder to watch the dirt road as he reversed.

“Yeah, true.”

Your life wasn’t magically fixed after that night, and neither was Daryls, but it did get a lot easier. You zipped up your coat but your shoes were still full of snow, that kind of better. A lot of shit happened, you had your arguments, but no fights. After RIck died you ran off together looking for his body, for Daryl’s closure, living off in the woods somewhere with a dog that liked to growl at you. He was over possessive of Daryl, and so were you, so the two of you were butting heads often.

He never did build you that house, but you moved into one of the newly built homes in Alexandria. He did build you a back porch, which looked great for someone who’d never built an entire screened in porch before, even if it did look a little raggedy in some spots. He even brought home pots for you to plant ‘shit’ in, as he said. 

Daryl wasn’t home often, which didn't bother you anymore, because you were out there with him. 

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