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queers-gambit · 25 days

Text

Alpine

prompt: in an effort to help your boyfriend with his trauma, you rescue a furry feline together - a white cat named, Alpine - who rescues you both in return.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 6.9k+

note: been seeing a lot of Alpine recently and got inspired.

second note: no, it's not comic / canon compliant so just have fun. author did some research but there's not a LOT written / known about Alpine, so, again, just have fun!

warnings: post Endgame, pre tfaws; cursing, Lord's name in vain, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Nick Fury calling reader a bitch playfully, Bucky's trauma responses, small spoilers, Dr. Raynor / therapy.

other works with Widow!reader and Bucky NOT necessary to read

read here: Damage Done

"Are you angry with me?"

"No."

"Disappointed? Annoyed? Frustrated?"

"No, doll."

"Then why won't you talk to me!?"

"Nothing to say."

You wiped a hand down your face, lifting it only to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your head shook to shake away your thoughts, sniffling emotion, sighing when you dropped your hand to slap against your thigh. "I'm really trying here, Bucky, I swear to you, I am. But I can't help if you don't talk to me," you softened your voice, beginning to understand this was a losing battle.

"I never said I needed help."

"You never have to ask me for help, Bucky, I just give it because I want to! Because I love you! That's part of being in a relationship!"

"Maybe I don't want it!" Your boyfriend snapped, rounding on you with unfiltered emotion in his eyes. The horrors swam in his baby blues, vivid memories he was unable to escape haunting him, terrorizing him; creating a shell of a man who could no longer hide his avid pain. "Did you ever think about that? Ever consider that I don't want your help because I don't need it?"

"Everyone needs help sometimes, Buck."

"No, not everyone - I'm not one of your pet projects, you don't get to treat me like a broken thing that needs fixed! I certainly don't need your pity - not yours."

"I don't pity you! Fuck's sake, Bucky, I love you and want to see you heal. I know you better than anyone - "

"You don't," he sneered, cutting you off. "You don't know me, not really, not as well as Steve - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Steve isn't here! He's not coming back!" You snapped, instantly regretting it when Bucky's eyes coated with glassy emotion he fought vehemently to keep down. "I-I'm sorry, that was - that was really mean of me and totally out of line," you apologized, both sighing deeply. "All right, look, let's just talk this out, please."

"There's nothing to say."

Your hip cocked, arms crossing, "She called me, you know."

"Who?"

"Dr. Raynor."

"Fuck's sake," he growled. "Why would she do that?"

"Maybe because today's session was, apparently, supposed to be a couples session. She thought I was refusing, called to say I was impeding on your progress and if I want to help you, I'd have to show up to your appointments. Which is really funny because you never told me about today, so I had no idea what the hell she was talking about - but that didn't stop her from tearing me a new asshole!"

He frowned, avoiding your eyes. "I didn't need a couples session. Not today, I just - I wanted today to focus on other shit."

"And I can respect that, but you're not doing yourself any favors by hiding shit from me. To get the best results from therapy, you have to actually do the work, and not just do what Dr. Raynor says, but actually listen to her advice - "

"I don't need you on my back about this, Raynor does that enough for you both," Bucky growled. "I do the fucking work - I'm the one in that room, I'm the one applying silly little rules to my life - "

"Obviously not if you didn't even tell me Raynor requested my attendance! You should've told me, and then you should've said you weren't ready! I would've respected that, but I can't do a Goddamn thing if you don't talk to me!"

His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth, skin twitching and distinct muscles tightening. "Like I said, there's nothing to talk about," he practically spat, shaking his head at you before grabbing his sneakers from the closet.

You didn't mean to sound harsh, but demanded, "Where are you going? We're in the middle of a conversation."

"No, we're not, 'cause I'm ending it," he scoffed, sitting on the corner of your shared mattress, exchanged his shoes. "And I'm going for a run, need to clear my head."

You shook your head before leaving the bedroom, "Absolutely unbelievable."

Bucky left your shared apartment a few minutes later, somewhere you've only lived five months - the time it's been since Tony Stark, Iron Man, snapped the other half of living beings back into existence. He lost his life in return, the ultimate sacrifice, but he managed to reverse the damage Thanos created five years prior. Five months of living in this apartment without a lick of warmth, personal touch, or real sentiment; it being dreary, dark, and mostly empty. Hell, Bucky didn't even feel comfortable in bed, so he camped in the barren living room, giving visual to the way your relationship was beginning to fray, unravel, crack.

He didn't want anything personal in your apartment - thinking it was ridiculous to settle down after all you two have endured, witnessed, and fought for. You agreed to keep things at the bare minimum, only stocking what was necessary, knowing this was part of his healing process and didn't want to drum-up further anxiety. It made everything impersonal, boring, bland, and down right depressing - but it was a small accommodation you could provide your lover.

You hated the distance. Hated how alone Bucky felt after Steve. Hated how reclusive he became, the anger he projected. Hated how no matter what you did, you weren't enough - not this time. For years, you've loved him despite his flaws, his brainwashing, his trauma responses, but whatever he was enduring now was something you weren't equipped to handle. Didn't mean you weren't willing to try, but Bucky was the one pushing you away; thinking his demons were his sole responsibility, never letting you be the pillar that helped support him. God, you hated the distance.

You left the apartment, too. Nick Fury had employed you for creative, solo, high profile missions; wanting to utilize your Widow training, especially now that Natasha Romanoff was deceased. And you wanna know what? Bucky hadn't even asked about her, never tried to offer comfort, only quietly attending the funeral service you hosted with the remaining Avengers to give her a proper sendoff - despite there being no body. Bucky knew you and Nat were as thick as thieves, family without blood, two lost souls who leaned on each other in trying times; bonded by trauma, encouraged by resounding bravery, disciplined by strength. The fact that your boyfriend never even checked in with you after Nat's passing obviously hurt your feelings but you remained silent.

Again, to avoid generating more anxiety for Bucky.

You met the one-eyed man at a local, bustling coffee shop, finding the sight of the hardened, burly man eating a scone amusing. "Got you one of these," he nudged a dessert plate to your side of the table when you sat down with your desired coffee, "know you like 'em."

"Blueberries are my favorite," you half-smirked, regarding the moist muffin and sighing sadly. "All right, sir, what's on the docket?"

He stared at you for a moment, chewing thoughtfully before leaning back in his chair. "The fuck's going on with you?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You look different today."

"Mh," you nodded, joking, "got a hair cut."

"No, it's your aura. Something bothering you, kid?"

"You do realize I'm a fully grown adult, right?"

Nick shrugged, "I don't see age."

"You don't - nobody sees age, Nick, Jesus."

He took a sip of his green tea. "There's still something bothering you. Not sure if you should go on this mission if you're wound tight."

"I'm just dealing with shit at home."

"Oh, right, the cyborg. How is the hundred year old psycho?"

"You you want me to stab out your other eye? 'Cause I fucking will," you threatened with a fork clenched in your grasp, perking your brows up your forehead. "Say that shit again, see what the fuck I do, Nick, I absolutely dare you."

He chuckled, hands held in defense, "Sorry, sorry, that was uncalled for. What's wrong with Sergeant Barnes?"

You shrugged, "It's complicated."

"Bitch, aliens opening a wormhole in space and time to invade Earth is complicated - relationships aren't. Try me."

After an amused chuckle, you told him, "He's struggling right now. You know? After everything, it's been a lot for him and now that things are relatively back to normal, he's having a hard time trying to assimilate himself back into the populace. You know, learning to live in this day and age - a man out of time, outside his comfort zone, forced to adjust himself after living as a weapon of mass destruction for so long. Add in the fact that his best friend passed, marking another forceful adjustment he's unprepared for..."

"Hm," Nick nodded, "heard he's got a full pardon."

"He does."

"Which has a contingency he's gotta go to therapy, right? Part of rejoining society?"

You nodded, "Right, again."

"So he's in therapy and still struggling?"

"It's not like there's an on-off switch, Nick, therapy takes time and dedication. I just don't think he feels at peace, calm, in control - like he deserves any of this; the pardon especially. Think the stress, fear, and confusion is eating at him."

"Well, he's got you."

"I'm not his mother."

"No, you're his girlfriend, and it's a girlfriend's responsibility to support him, ain't it? Help him through this?"

"I can only do so much, Nick," you scoffed, "I'm just one person and he's a stubborn jackass - he just pushes me away. I'm sure I don't help the situation by accepting your contracts."

Fury considered your words for a long moment, then asked, "You said he's lonely?"

"Wouldn't you? Given his situation? He won't say, but I know losing Steve caused a part of him die."

Nick shrugged, "So get him a dog."

You never wouldn't guessed those words could ever pass Nick Fury's lips, head cocking, eyes narrowing, arms crossed over your chest. "I'm sorry, do what now?"

"It's obvious, ain't it? Dude needs company when you're gone, a sense of purpose, to feel like there was something - or someone - depending on him. Might help whatever limbo he's lingering in."

"A dog?"

"A dog. He can take it for walks or whatever."

You considered his recommendation, asking again, "A dog?"

"Do we need to get your hearing checked again? You lose the last functionality of your ears? Yes, a dog."

"I don't know..."

"It's just a suggestion, might promote his peace, help him process grief and guilt. Telling you, a dog would do him good. Now," he took another sip of tea, "onto business."

"You give me whiplash," you chuckled. "What's this job?"

"Simple and easy," he pulled up a tablet from the chair beside him, tapping it three times and handing it to you.

"None of your jobs are simple or easy, Nicky-Nick."

"I told you, don't call me that. Look, I just need you in London to investigate a string of potential terrorist activity. Just some recon, you won't be gone more than a few days - if you behave and stay on task."

You scanned the document, "When do I ever do that?" He chuckled briefly, you wondering, "Flagsmashers? Jesus, what a name. C'mon, you can't be serious. These guys are just radicals - you know, trying to vouch for those displaced after the Blip. It's actually kinda endearing, I mean, they're trying to give a microphone to those without a voice."

"They're escalating - too quickly," Fury informed. "They haven't raised any international flags yet, but something ain't right about them. I just need you as eyes and ears, maybe report if you think they're worth the worry."

Little did you know, in only about a month, you would join forces with Bucky and Sam Wilson - The Falcon - to dismantle the organization.

"When do I leave?"

"Tuesday would be ideal. But I can push it to Friday if you wanna go get that dog."

Your laughter was endearing, handing the tablet back over.

Bucky liked holding hands, though, he often wouldn't ever voice it. It made him feel tethered, anchored to reality; instilling a sense of pride to have such a gorgeous lady - such as yourself - at his side. However, the part he liked most, was being reminded he wasn't alone; even when on crowded, overpopulated streets, he didn't have to be afraid because with his hand in yours, he looked just like everyone else. You protected him even without intending to or without even knowing what you were doing.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he sighed, people on the street sidestepping and avoiding running into you two. "I was upset, stressed out, you know how I get after seeing Raynor."

"It's okay, baby," you assured, ever the patient, loyal, and supportive girlfriend he needed. "I'm not holding it against you, but just promise me, when you're ready, you'll tell me."

He nodded, "I will - I mean, I promise." You hummed and pet his bicep with your other hand, giving his arm a hug. "Now are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"I told you, it's a surprise."

He was ready to reply when a small commotion echoed from the alley you were passing, Bucky coming to a jarring halt that yanked on your arm, swinging you around. You were ready to ask what was happening when you clocked one of Bucky's "friends", an older man named Yori Nakajima, arguing with one of his neighbors.

"Hey, hey, Yori," Bucky intervened, you watching from the mouth of the alley, "woah, hey, what's going on?"

You couldn't hear whatever Yori was saying, but Bucky turned to the other man and growled something at him that made the neighbor scurry off. He glared at you, lip curled in a sneer, disappearing amongst patrons of the crowded sidewalk. You frowned and approached Yori and Bucky, your boyfriend still trying to calm his friend - well, 'friend' was a very generous term. See, Yori was the father of a young man that died by the hand of the Winter Soldier, being a name on Bucky's list he needed to make amends with.

However, when you took your place beside Bucky, Yori was waving you both off and shuffling down the alley, towards one of his apartment building's doors. "What was that all about?" You asked softly, taking note of the disgruntled expression your boyfriend usually wore these days.

"Just," he sighed, shaking his head, "Yori's upset with some of his neighbors - thinks they're encroaching on being disrespectful."

"When doesn't he?" Bucky sighed, you wondering softly, "You think you're ever gonna feel ready to tell him?"

"I'm working on it," he sighed sadly. "All right, c'mon - "

You both paused with furrowed brows when there came a series of shrill meows from under a couple of soggy, cardboard boxes beside a dumpster. "Did you hear that?" You asked.

"Uh-huh."

Another elongated meow was heard, Bucky curiously approach the discarded trash coated in sewage sludge. He slowly squatted, you approaching his shoulder when another meow cried out. Now, normally, you'd never investigate animal noises out of fear they were feral and carrying disease, but something just felt sad about what you heard - apparently, to Bucky, too. Gingerly, he reached out and lifted a piece of dripping cardboard, seeing a bundle moving under the next piece. He moved that one, too.

"Oh, my God!" You cooed when a tiny kitten was revealed. White fur was stained with dirt, sludge, and other nasty juices; nose pink, eyes a piercing, clear blue with brownish tear stains rimming them. The kitten mewed in greeting, pacing a tight circle before trying to back up in the brick wall; hunching its back and hissing slightly when you lowered yourself into a squat beside Bucky. "Baby, it's all alone, should we help?" You pouted.

"I don't think it wants our help, doll," he sighed. "It looks scared of us. Bet the mother's around somewhere, be a shame to move it if she's coming back."

"It looks too skinny, maybe it's alone?"

"Or maybe it's not," Buck countered. "C'mon, sugar, we can't take it."

After a bit of back and forth, you finally relented and had to walk away. You frowned for at least two blocks, but upon your halt at a crosswalk, you were greeted by another shrieking meow. Whipping around, you and Buck both looked down to discover the wee little kitten had followed you and was practically yelling for your attention. You grinned.

"Well, now we really have to help it," you told Bucky.

"How?"

"We take it to a shelter," you answered, shrugging, "good thing I know where one is."

"What's it doing?" Bucky asked nervously, the kitten dancing around your legs; brushing up against you both, meowing the whole time.

"I think she wants you to pick her up," you smirked.

He sighed and stooped to scoop the little creature in hand, regarding it carefully; weighing it, checking paws and other vulnerable spots. Bucky muttered, "All right, yeah, fine, let's take him to a shelter. Little beast needs some food it feels like, definitely a flea bath and some fresh water."

"You big softie."

"Lead the way to the shelter, princess, c'mon," he ignored your jab, tucking the kitten into his chest protectively. "He feels fragile," Bucky worried, "maybe you should carry him, I might crush him."

"You've got the little babe, Buck," you assured, "you're not gonna hurt him - I mean, if it's even a him."

"By the attitude, could be a girl," he joked, making your heart lighten. He'd been in such a funk that you missed his teasing, soft words; the little jokes he cracked, his smile - God, you missed seeing his smile. During your time on the run after DC, while seeking refuge in Bucharest for a couple years, you grew accustomed to seeing his radiant smile; remembering how easily he offered it when just the two of you. For a moment, you considered how your relationship was no longer just you and Bucky - but his trauma, too.

Arriving at the shelter, it was like an assault on the senses. Dogs were heard barking from the kennels, the pungent smell of urine and wood chips smacking you in the face, and a sort of humidity lingering in the air - a sharp contrast to the crisp outside.

"Hi," you greeted the receptionist, offering a kind smile.

"Hi, there. How can I help you two?" The man with long hair asked.

"Well, uh, two things," you explained, "one: we'd like to tour your kennels, we're interested in adopting a dog - "

"We are?" Bucky gaped.

" - and two: we found this little fella in an alley," you pointed to the kitten curled protectively against Bucky's warmth. "We wanted to make sure he was okay, maybe leave him here for adoption?"

"Oh," Man Bun blinked, regarding both Bucky and the kitten, "wow, uh, yeah, that's really nice of you guys, rescuing the little guy. You know, since everyone came back few months ago, there's be an influx of strays. A lot of people gave up their animals when their loved ones came back."

"Well, that's super fucked up," your eyes rolled.

"Tell me about it," he sighed. "Look, I'd love to help you guys out, so, tell you what. I can let you back in the kennels - no problem! Help match you to your new companion, but, uh... I don't think I can help you with the cat. You see, we, uh, we've had to start euthanizing the overflow animals or the ones who don't get adopted in a timeframe. We're at our max capacity, so... If you wanna leave him here, uh, I can't promise he'll have a place."

"You'd put him down?" Bucky growled.

"It's not what we want to do," Man Bun swiftly explained, "but it's just necessary - we don't have the room or resources to take him."

"Do you know of any no-kill shelters? Maybe one that has room?" You asked, feeling Bucky's disgust rolling off him in waves.

"Not in the area," Man Bun frowned. "Honestly? I think the closest no-kill shelter's in Maryland. Maybe Virginia?"

"Jesus," you frowned, looking at Bucky.

"Look, my best advice?" Man Bun offered, "Take the little tike home, clean him up, and call around to other shelters to see if they have space. But if you intend to adopt a dog, maybe bringing back a kitten isn't the best timing. If you give him up to us, he'll probably be sent directly to overflow..."

"We'll take him home," Bucky instantly decided, shocking you.

"We will?" You asked softly, lips curling in a small smile.

"Why not?" He sighed.

"I would've thought you'd be more of a dog person..."

"I'm not an animal person, but we're not leaving this little guy here just for him to be euthanized. We can handle him for a few days, you know, until we find a shelter with room."

"I think that's a great idea," you grinned.

"But was this your plan? For us to adopt a dog?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Why?"

You shrugged, "Just thought a dog would be nice company when I'm outta town for work. You know, could go on walks or runs together, you'd have someone looking out for you, maybe a dog would help with your stress levels?"

He eyed you for a moment, sighing, "I appreciate that, doll. Maybe another time, though? At least let us find somewhere or someone to take this guy."

The kitten gave a prolonged squeak - seemingly agreeing. "All right, noisy, we hear you," you chuckled, giving the kitten's head a scratch. You asked Man Bun, "Do you guys have the means to check him over, you know, before we go home? Make sure he's not injured or something?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "let me go get one of the technicians."

After the tech's exam, you were given the paperwork from that day's visit, the name, number, and address of a recommended vet, and before you knew it, found yourselves at the local pet store. You would've been ashamed by the absurd amount of money you spent, but Bucky rationalized the need because you weren't sure how long your new companion would stay with you. So, you ransacked the store, buying a sizable litter box, 50 pounds of actual litter, a bag of kibble, case of wet food, several different treats, a balm for the baby's feet, too many toys and stimulation activities, a carrying case in the event of transporting the kitten, and a tiny collar - if you decided to keep the little noise machine.

The sight of Bucky with the little fuzz ball warmed your heart. He still seemed hesitant and stiff, as if afraid to hurt the kitten, but he wasn't so tense anymore. However, he handed the pet over for you to hold while he carried the supplies back home; biceps bulging to support the weight. In that moment, walking familiar streets with his arms full of cat supplies, he questioned how he got here - to feel all domestic and out-of-place. He was Bucky Barnes - a Sargent in the Army, prolific hitman, something of an Avenger now. He didn't adopt cats and buy toys!

However, watching you talk to the kitten softly, he smiled - something small at first that grew like a germinating seed to split his face. You seemed so... Bright, excited, rejuvenated, even. He knew the past five months since the Blip had been rough on you, what with losing Natasha, fighting Thanos and his army of aliens, then ricocheting into 'normal life' only to deal with his emotional baggage. Watching you walk down the street with a fuzzy white ball of energy, pointing out different things, cooing and narrating the city to the kitten as if he could understand was refreshing after seemingly seeing nothing but a frown on your lips recently.

To Bucky, as long as you were happy, he was happy - and it seemed you were very content with your new little buddy. So, he was happy with your new little buddy and figured a dose of domestic life wasn't the end of the world. In fact, he actually felt... Intrigued by the newest addition to your little family.

When you returned home, it was to an empty apartment. Bucky dropped the supplies in the living room, hands to his hips, looking around, "Well, uh... At least there's room to run around, right?"

You nodded, "And no risk of ruined furniture."

"Yeah," he sighed, watching you set the kitten down. "All right, pip squeak. C'mon, lemme give you the tour - pay attention. So, in here," he moved around the wall, kitten following and listening intently, labeling, "this is the kitchen, this is where you'll get your meals - and no, you're not allowed on the counters." He pointed a warning finger, "Don't let me catch you up there or there's gonna be hell to pay. I don't wanna find your hair in my morning bagel."

"Buck, you don't eat breakfast."

"Fine, then I don't wanna hear my girl found hair in her bagel."

The kitten mewed loudly, trotting to keep up as Bucky walked around the barren apartment - giving a literal tour. You unpacked the supplies, setting up a raised food bowl beside a full water bowl. You left the treats in an empty cupboard, the litter box ready to use in the bathroom, and tossed some toys around the open, empty living room floor. You meandered, stashing other supplies, hearing the scampering thuds of excited little feet.

When your head popped out of the kitchen, you grinned at what you saw. Bucky was sat on the floor, flicking a feathered stick over the hardwood floors for the kitten to race around and try to catch. The longer you watched, the more defenseless Bucky seemed, and dare you say it, he looked calm - maybe even happy. His eyes were locked on the animal's antics as if he didn't want to miss a single movement he made; small smile making him look younger and brighter.

You made a mental note to thank Nick Fury for his suggestion. Sure, he actually said to get a dog, but this kitten seemed to have the same effect.

"Hey, baby?" You called, hanging up your phone after calling the recommended vet. "So, uh... Listen, you know how I have to go outta town on Friday?"

"Yeah?" He glanced up, letting the kitten wrestle his booted foot.

"So, I managed to get a vet appointment but it's for Friday. Is that okay? Or do you want me to reschedule for when I'm back so we can go together?"

"Oh, uh, no, that's all right, sugar, keep the Friday slot. I can take him, it's not a big deal."

"You sure? I hate having to saddle you with this responsibility."

"I'm sure," he nodded, "I can take him, it's okay."

For the rest of the week, you had a front row viewing of an incredible bond being formed. The kitten liked you, you two had many moments together, but it was obvious the little guy adored Bucky. He was stuck to your boyfriend like Velcro, following him everywhere, shrieking for attention when Bucky was preoccupied, liked being held when he cooked, even tried to get in the shower with Bucky. They played together, Bucky's laugh warming the entire apartment; positively obsessed with one another, the little guy even sleeping between you and Bucky.

It was as if you both forgot to look for the kitten a permanent home, the lack of furniture providing wide space for play and entertainment. Bucky even got one of those cat trees, couple individual scratching posts, and a laser pointer that drove your furry friend up the wall. There was some unspoken rule about naming animals - where if you named them, they were yours officially. So, one evening over dinner, you proposed a few names, Bucky giving his opinion; but then you began to consider "theme" names. Because your little buddy was white, you mused over names like Noelle or Snow, but finally settled on Alpine after narrowly beating out Aspen.

The day you flew to London, you warned both Bucky and kitten to behave themselves. Later that night, while you were sat in a tinted SUV for surveillance, your phone rang with Bucky's contact. "Hey, baby, how's it going?" You answered, refocusing through your advanced camera lens to snap necessary photos.

"Good, yeah. Uh, how's London?"

"Pretty dreary, it's been raining all day. Hey, how was the vet appointment?"

'Oh, yeah, no, it was, uh, yeah, it was good. Gave Alpine a buncha shots, microchipped her, started her on antibiotics - "

"Did you say, 'her'?"

"Yeah, that was the other thing - turns out, Alpine's a girl."

You chuckled, "Well, I'll be damned. How're you feelin', Buck?"

"I'm... Okay."

"I'm sorry I'm not there," you sighed. "Nightmares again?"

"Yeah."

"Sleeping in the living room?"

"You know it."

"TV on?"

"Reminds me I'm not where I dreamt I am."

"Well, I'll be home in a few days."

"What's this mission?"

"Just a little recon, I'm only to observe. Nicky told me to keep an eye on some suspicious activity."

"Don't tell me you're sitting in a white van?"

"No, sir, it's a Rolls Royce this time," you chuckled.

True to your word, you were home by Tuesday night. The transatlantic flight was long and tedious; a storm creating steady turbulence, making it absolutely impossible to get any shut eye. When you landed, you made a beeline to the Starbucks and got the largest coffee possible with an added 2 shots of espresso before exiting the bustling airport. Outside, waiting at the curb, Nick Fury himself stood before a sleek and shiny car that probably cost more than a 4-year education at an American university.

He smirked, "Welcome back, kid."

"Nice of you to pick me up, Nicky-Nick."

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call me 'kid'."

"Get in the Goddamn car, I'm not having this argument again."

After storing your luggage, Nick drove you back home while listening to your mission report. You didn't think the Flagsmashers were extreme enough to warrant intervention, but all Nick heard was that now was the time to strike before there came the need, before a chance for escalation could occur. You left the tablet full of notes, observations, photos, and data with the one-eyed man, and before you fully departed the car, paused to lean in the open window.

"Hey, uh, I've been meaning to thank you."

"What for?" Nick asked, face hardened in a permanent look of disagreement. You never took it personally - Nick Fury having professional Resting Bitch Face (RBF).

"Your advice about getting Bucky a dog."

"No shit," he chuckled, "you actually got him a dog?"

"Uh, well, no..."

"What'd you get?" Nick asked in suspicion, watching your lips roll between your teeth to restrain your smile. "Ah, hell no! You didn't! A cat? A fucking cat?"

"I know you don't like them - "

"Bitch! One scratched out my eye!"

"But our cat didn't."

"Doesn't matter - fuck all them felines."

You laughed and slapped the metal door, "Well, thank you anyway for the idea of a companion animal. Bucky's a lot calmer it seems."

Nick Fury sighed, waving you off like a pesky insect. "I'll call you when I got another job. Have fun with the little demon."

"You talkin' about Bucky or Alpine?"

"The cat - wait, Alpine? The fuck kinda name is that?"

"You know, Alpine... Like the Alps?"

His head shook, "I know what fuckin' alpine is."

"Why don't you head off - looks like you're gonna give yourself a stroke. Didn't realize getting a kitten would stress you out this bad."

"Get out my Goddamn window and I can leave."

You grinned and dropped a wink, again, patting the car and stepping back onto the sidewalk. Nick peeled off, leaving you alone to shoulder your duffel bag and head inside your apartment building. When you got to your desired location, the door opened without the usual creak, Bucky obviously WD-40'ing the hinges. "Hello?" You called softly, hanging your keys on the little peg in the foyer, toeing out of your shoes, glancing around the empty apartment.

Ready to call out again, you actually almost choked on air when you inhaled but stopped abruptly. You pouted your bottom lip at the sight of Bucky sound asleep in his nest on the floor, TV's lighting flashing and creating shadows, giving clear sight of Alpine curled in a tight ball on Buck's chest. His flesh hand was raised to rest on his chest, keeping Alpine cuddled to his warmth.

Quickly, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, snapping an adorable picture of your boyfriend before silently tiptoeing away to dispose of your duffel and purse. You sent the photo to Bucky's phone, positive you were keeping the kitten. After a long, hot shower that washed the travel from your body, you changed into loungewear, pulled your hair back, then reentered the living room where you knelt at Bucky's side. In-sync, your presence made both Alpine and Bucky flinch awake - your boyfriend jerking away from your warmth as the kitten hopped off his chest.

You winced, "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't mean to wake you."

His head shook, "No, it's all right, doll, I wasn't sleeping."

"You were, don't deny it," you grinned, settling on the mound of blankets.

Bucky chuckled gently, "I tried to stay up for you. C'mere," his arm opened in invitation, smirking gently. You settled down and turned into his side, his arm now coiled around your form, constricting to pull you closer so his lips could plant on your forehead. "How was London? Your mission?"

"Easy peasy," you sighed, "nothing too strenuous or stressful. The most 'complicated' part of the whole thing was using a different car each day to avoid suspicion."

"Hmm... Who was the target?"

"Some radical group," you sighed, head resting on his pectoral. "How was it? Just you and Alpine?"

"It was pretty good, nothing to complain about. She's nice company."

As if understanding she was the topic of conversation, Alpine mewed several times in a row as she walked up the seam of your body pressed to Bucky's. She turned in two circles before settling down between you; your grin authentic as a manicured fingernail extended to scratch her head.

"Actually, sweetheart, I've been thinking..."

"Hmm? About what?" You mumbled, eyes drooping with each passing second.

"About how we should keep her - Alpine, we should keep Alpine."

"You're just figuring that out now?" You teased, sluggishly lifting your head to smirk at him. "I knew she was ours the moment you picked her up. It'll be nice having her around, don't you think? I know she's not a dog you can take on walks but with Alpine, you don't have to be alone."

He nodded, "I like that idea. She's a good cat."

"Check your phone in the morning."

"Why?"

"Mmmh, I sent you a picture, you'll see - but it's just confirmation that Alpines part of us now, part of our crew."

"Our family," Bucky agreed softly. He watched you resettle on his chest, spending the following couple hours in the glow of the TV, watching you and Alpine. Bucky's heart warmed to a degree he's never known, making the comparison of himself to Jim Carrey's, the Grinch - a movie you made him watch. Eventually, exhaustion outweighed his domestic thoughts; falling asleep with you safe in his arms and Alpine curled up between you.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise... I was beginning to think James made you up."

"Oh, please, nobody could make me up - I'm too complex, nobody's got that kinda imagination," you smirked, legs crossed, seated beside Bucky on a sofa; both facing his therapist.

"I'm glad you could finally join us - I've been asking James to bring you for a while now," Dr. Raynor's eyes darted between you and Bucky, making you feel as if she was seeing right into your soul. However, her tone was accusatory, as if scolding Bucky.

So, you swiftly defended, "Well, I'm happy to be here. Bucky's one of my top priorities, I'd do anything for him - including attending any of these silly mandated sessions. Which are bullshit, by the way, because he's not the Winter Soldier anymore so why is Bucky being crucified? Why is this being pinned on him when he technically didn't do anything? The Winter Soldier did."

"Well, healing often takes time and dedication, and must be done in a series of steps. That's how you see real progress. These sessions are a condition of his pardon - "

"I can't believe your government would even enforce these silly little rules considering Bucky's assistance. He fought against Thanos, he fought on our side, and by all means, helped restore what was lost. I just find it pretty dehumanizing to force him to jump through hoops. I mean, for Christ's sake, half the universe was snapped away, you'd think after that, there wouldn't be need for pardons or contingencies - or for holding onto grudges."

"This is simply how we keep order in a post-Blip society. Everything changed in those five years, it's necessary to keep balance amongst all worldly citizens."

You scoffed lightly, "Ever consider these sessions might be doing more harm than good?"

Raynor frowned, "Despite the Winter Soldier being decommissioned, James still has trauma to process and skeletons to clear out of the closet. Yes, the Winter Soldier is gone, but the man remains - and James needs to focus on healing that part of himself. Whatever he did as the Winter Soldier wasn't Bucky's doing, but he still remembers all he did, which creates a heavy toll on the mind. That's part of the reason these sessions are mandated - because the assassin might be gone, but the residual effects still linger."

You hummed, "Well, let's get into it, Doc."

"You know... I've heard a lot about you. James paints you in a very bright light, says your bark and bite are equally as vicious."

"Hm," you nodded, brows perked, "yet I don't know shit about you."

"Perfectly natural. Typically, most people don't gossip about their therapists. It's nice that you could join us for this session."

"Nice to be invited."

She clicked her pen and settled her pad securely on her lap, just staring at you and Bucky for a long moment. You were ready to snap at her when she opened her mouth, "So, I hear you adopted a cat?"

"We did," you confirmed.

"Alpine," Bucky supplied, body rigid with tension and nerves.

"Right... Alpine," Raynor nodded, leaning her elbow to an arm of her padded chair. "How did this cat come into your possession?"

"We rescued her from a dumpster," Bucky answered stiffly.

"Really?" Raynor perked both brows.

"She was under some pieces of cardboard, screamin' her li'l head off," You chuckled. "Though, I think it's safe to say she chose us, adopted us as caregivers."

"How's that?"

"She wouldn't let us pick her up and we were afraid to take her in case her mama was lingering around. Turns out, she followed us. We were at a crosswalk when she caught up, demanding we pick her up and take her home."

"Is that so?"

"I'd like to think so," you nodded. "We were already on our way to the shelter, so, we took her with us, got her checked out."

"Why were you heading to the shelter to begin with?"

"Oh, uh, to adopt a dog. I had a colleague recommend an emotional support animal - or a companionship animal - to help Bucky feel less alone."

Raynor made a note of something. "You work often?" She asked.

"Often enough that I feel guilty for leaving. Figured getting a dog would instill a sense of dependence, you know, help Bucky feel like there was someone depending on him. Help usher in comfort and stability, help keep him calm, focused, distracted. But Alpine does the same thing - no dog necessary, apparently."

Raynor nodded, her wrinkles dimpling as she frowned and wrote down another note. When her eyes lifted, so did her lips; a smirk on display as she praised, "I actually think that's a wonderful idea. You know, there's been a lot of research about soldiers with PTSD benefitting from an emotional support animal. You're right, they promote peace, stability, distraction - gives patrons a tangible purpose, taking care of another life not their own."

"For sure, again, anything to help," you agreed, holding Bucky's gloved hand he kept covered by leather - only worn in public.

"Although, I wonder, why get a pet? I ask because James speaks highly of you, credits you for keeping him stable and on-track. Do you feel as if she's not enough, James? Is that why you kept Alpine?"

"No," he answered instantly, "she's my best girl and will always be enough. Watch your mouth, Doc."

"But sometimes extra help is nice," you tacked on, tightening your hand in Bucky's. "But for what it's worth, Dr. Raynor, Bucky keeps me sane. I keep him balanced. We keep each other safe. Alpine's just an added bonus, a quiet menace to help quell the business of our brains."

Raynor smirked, "I must say, you surprise me, Miss."

"I'm no stranger to mental health. But as I said before, I just want to help." You looked up at Bucky, finsihing softly, "He deserves peace in this lifetime - and if a little ball of fur can help, sign me up..."

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

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ectoentity · 2 months

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Ectoplasm Gives You Wings 0.?

Hey here's a scene that happened long before Danny showed up have fun

Here is the subscription post

Need to know concept:

When you're in a world where wings are associated with ghosts, you're gonna assume that coming back from the dead with wings means you have some unfinished business. Harley Quinn POV.

Ever since Joker died, Harley expected his killer would come after her. She hadn't been with him for a couple years, but that hardly made up for the shit she'd done while they were together. Really the only surprise was that they hadn’t killed her first as a warning to him.

So when she walked into her apartment kitchen to see a guy with huge wings wearing a red helmet, Harley wasn’t terribly surprised. Not about the break-in or the gun pointed at her, at least.

"How'd'ya manage to fit those things in here?" she asked. The guy didn't answer. The wings flexed like he wanted to open them, but there wasn't any room.

"Harley," the Red Hood said, sounding very intimidating with some kind of voice modulation. "You know why I’m here."

"I can make a guess, big guy," Harley said sadly. "Nothing I can do to change your mind?"

"You let it happen. You helped him. Why should you escape justice?"

"I did my time for most of it. And I spent the last couple a years trying to put him in the ground. That doesn't fit into your equation somehow?" She tried edging slowly to a shelf where she had a gun of her own. Red Hood noticed. He stepped forward and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt.

"Did any of that bring back the innocent people you killed? The children you tortured?"

"Woah, woah, woah, time out. I never did anything like that to kids." Harley held her hands up in a T shape above Red Hood's fist. "I did some awful stuff I ain't proud of, but I never tortured kids."

"You didn't seem to care that he did."

Harley sighed and lowered her hands onto Red Hood's arm and tried to look into the eyes of his weird helmet. "What do you expect to happen here? You want me to beg until you feel satisfied? Sorry, buddy. Not really my style! I don't like a lotta what I did back then, but I can't fix it. I'm trying better now. If that's not good enough for ya, that's too bad."

The Red Hood didn't move for a moment. It was kind of creepy, if Harley was honest. He didn't say anything, he didn't twitch. Was the guy even breathing? It was always hard to talk to someone in a full face mask. There was no way to tell whether they were even listening. Contrary to popular belief, Harley didn't talk just to hear her own voice! Not often, at least.

The hand let go of her shirt. Harley pulled back to regain her balance, but she didn't relax just yet. There was still a big murderous birdman with a gun in her apartment. Even if he wasn't about to shoot her just now, he was still dangerous.

"Fucking hell," the guy said. He seemed to stagger backwards until one of his wings clipped the half-wall separating the kitchen from the living room. Then he leaned against the pillar heavily.

"Shit. You're right. This is pointless. Why am I here?"

Harley took her chance to grab her gun just in case, but Red Hood didn't seem to notice. She stared at him with suspicious, narrowed eyes. "Do you mean here in my apartment, or are you really having an existential crisis right now?"

"I'm not having a- Fuck. I guess I am." He held his head in his hands. "I'm sorry, Harls."

Well, that was an unusual nickname. It wasn't something she heard much outside of kids from the Bowery or Narrows. Most other kids in Gotham got swept up by their parents before they could talk to her.

"You lose somebody?" she asked softly, gun tucked in her pocket. "Sibling? A kid?"

Red Hood choked out a bitter laugh. "Myself." When Harley's eyebrows did a wild semaphore of emotion, the asshole deigned to explain. "He killed me. I... I came back. Figured, y'know, I must've been brought back for a reason, right?" He sunk down further against the pillar, the white tips of his mostly-black wings spreading across the floor like the fabric of a cape.

Damn, Harley thought. That made a fucked up amount of sense. "I can't really blame you for thinking that," she admitted. "The feathers a new fashion choice then?"

"You could say that. Shit." Red Hood reached up to the bottom of his helmet and depressed some trigger there. Harley heard a hiss of pressurization before it popped off the guy's head. The first thing she saw was black hair. That wasn't surprising. The surprising thing was when he leaned his head back against the pillar, revealing a young face and a shock of white hair in his bangs. Then he opened his eyes, and they were as blue as the sky.

"Hey kid? What did you say your name was?"

He took a devastatingly long time to respond.

"They called me Robin, once."

#dpxdc #jason todd #harleen quinzel #i originally wanted this to go further #but the last line was just too good #ectoplasm gives you wings #egyw

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ghouljams · 10 months

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Living vicariously through Bee, can we have Bee either impulsively purchases or has new livestock bestowed upon her, except…she has no place to put them. And Königs like god dammit (affectionate) and helps her build a ramshackle paddock to keep them in for the time being. Can include whatever kinky or plot shit you want, competency kink, size difference, stronk, whatever. I just need validation cause I just had to help my dad build a quarantine paddock in the burning sun this afternoon cause he impulsively bought more sheep 😭

Maelstrom you fuckin beauty I am so here for this. Bee is exactly the type to fall victim to the supply store chicks and bring home way too many because she wanted them to have friends. She is not made for farming but she loves animals and is so stupid. This is going to be very little relevant plot stuff and mostly me making König's life harder.

You call König as soon as you get home, worrying your lip with your teeth and staring at your new family member. You need to have a good long talk with yourself about impulse decisions and saying no to your neighbors. The line hardly rings twice before it picks up.

"What's wrong?" König asks instead of a greeting. You don't know why something has to be wrong for you to call him. Although thinking about it there's usually something wrong when you call him.

“You have to promise not to be mad.” You hear König exhale over the phone, a slow release of pressure.

“I promise I won’t be mad.”

"Ok, I- actually don't know where to start," you tell him honestly, that seems to work best with him. There's a short beat before he tells you,

"I'll be right there."

König stares down at the little pig you hold aloft for him to see. It’s eyes are almost as big and shiny as yours, it's little nose snuffles as you stare entreatingly at him and god dammit he can't say no to you.

"You need a paddock, and a shed." He tells you, already making a mental list of what he’ll need to grab from his place.

"Is a paddock like a little fenced area?” You ask, holding your squirmy piglet like a baby. König nods.

“Do you have a paddock?” Sometimes it feels like he’s really holding your hand through a conversation. You swear you’re not normally this stupid.

“I have a busted up fence behind the house.”

“Show me.”

König crouches next to one of the old fence posts behind your house, testing its stability before nailing up the wire netting he’d grabbed from home. He tips the brim of his hat with his finger to glance at the rest of the posts in the area, quick mental math buzzing and filling in where he’d need to put missing posts. When he stands again the roll of his shoulders as he straightens to full height is mesmerizing. You don’t think you’d properly internalized just how strong he must be. Watching him work is certainly… enlightening.

He’s really good at this, and you- you have nothing to add that could help. If you’re being totally honest with yourself, you would’ve been completely lost without him to here. Your heart clenches in your chest watching him twirl his hammer idly. You should really be doing something besides watching him. The flex of his bicep as he wraps his hand around the next post and shakes it, the tightness in his back as he raises the hammer and brings it down hard on the top of the post to force it further into the ground... You let out a pleased hum involuntarily. Are you proud of your ineptitude? No. Is seeing König work sort of worth it? Absolutely.

“You sure I can’t help?” You ask, more to be polite than to actually offer. König glances at you, the soft patterned sundress, the sandals, and shakes his head. No, the only thing you need to do is keep looking at him like that.

“Don’t need any help,” He sits back on his heels, staring at the fence post for a moment, before he looks back at you, “actually, if you had something to drink?”

You nod quickly, feeling like just the worst host in the world. You’d been so busy drooling over how hot your poor neighbor is you’d forgotten how hot he must be working out here. You can see the sweat on his skin, the wetness of his shirt where it sticks to him, of course he’s thirsty.

“I’ve got some lemonade, how’s that?”

“Perfect, thank you Hummelchen.” You smile at the nickname, whatever it means it feels affectionate and it makes you happy. You’ve never had a nickname before.

You steal a last look at the flex of his biceps before scurrying back to the house. This you can do, piling ice high in a glass and pouring lemonade just to where you think it might spill. You pop another glass in the freezer for later and feel fairly pleased with yourself, thinking ahead for once. You grab the glass to take out to König, careful not to spill as you cross the grass.

He's back to working hard, tapping nails into fence posts, and making sure everything is as secure as possible for you. For you. He's doing this for you. Just like he does everything for you, and doesn't ask for shit in return. It would be hot if you weren't starting to worry you're taking advantage of him. He looks up when he hears you approaching, his eyes crinkling pleasantly at the edges. He doesn't seem to mind helping you out. You should really find a way to return the favor.

You hold the glass out to him, "Looking good!"

He hums, fingers bumping yours as he takes the glass causing some of the drink to spill over your grip. He wants to tell you you're more than welcome to stay and watch, that he likes feeling your gaze so heavy on him, so appreciative, but he stops.

You lick the sticky sweet drink from your fingers without thinking, a terrible habit you've picked up living alone. König's eyes trace the motion, the soft pink of your tongue as it slides over your fingers. His own fingers tightening on the cool glass, feeling the creak of it trying to hold up under his grip. You don't know what you do to him, making an inquisitive noise at his staring, wiping the wet of your fingers on your skirt.

"You need something else?" You ask, König's voice catches in his throat. You. You. God, only you. You're all he needs and then some. You really must not know. Fuck, he wants to show you, wants to make sure you know how your every movement affects him. Maybe then you wouldn't be so spectacularly naive.

"No," he finally grits. You grin, just happy to have helped even a little.

"Just grab me if you do, I gotta finish up the laundry but I'll be back for your glass." You pat the post nearest you with finality and turn back to the house. König watches you go, thumb rubbing at the condensation on the glass.

König's hand settles on your shoulder as you're pinning sheets in place on the line. It makes you jump a little, you'd been thinking and hadn't heard him walk up.

"Paddock's done," His hand is damp with sweat and dirt, his voice almost as warm as the air. You glance over your shoulder at him and have to pretend you're not staring. It's weird he'd lose the shirt and not the bandana but you're not complaining. He's littered with scars but they only add to the appeal of the cut musculature, did he walk out of a museum? He's gorgeous, and your throat feels dry for any sane words but "wow" and "Holy shit" and "do you mind if I just touch you for a little." You tear your eyes away from his abs to look at the paddock.

Perfectly straight fence and evenly spaced poles, your new critter already snuffling about in the grass. There's even water and food troughs, you wonder if he found those in the old shed or if he brought them from his place. Somehow the well fit fence makes him all the more attractive.

"You'll need a shed for it, but it should be fine for tonight." König tells you, you nod a little and swallow the drool you're working on.

"Piggy smalls can sleep in the house, he's little so-" you cut yourself off, the questioning concern in König's eye makes you think you've said something wrong again.

"Is that what you've named it?" You nod quickly and hear him snort.

"You like it?" You ask, just to hear him tell you no.

"It's very... you." He says after a moment, smile wide enough you can almost see the edges under his bandana. Butterflies kick up in your stomach and you twist your fingers into your skirt so you don't reach to try and touch him.

"Are you staying for dinner?" You ask quickly, before you lose the nerve to say anything to him.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes."

He likes the way you say it, like a sigh. Like you could never say anything else to him. "Then I'll stay."

#cowboy!König #oc: bee #könig x you #könig modern warfare #könig x reader #x reader #god theyre so silly #hes stalking you queen!! stop inviting him over!!!#bee reads dark romances shed probably think it was hot #thats Love levels of crazy

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nicolesainz · 5 months

Text

Darling (JB 22)

Jenson Button x f!reader (Mark Webbers Daughter)

A/N: Ya’ll can blame the Brawn Doc (which btw was great, go check it out)

Summary: A little visit to your dad’s old friend after the Goodwill festival wouldn’t hurt,right?

Warnings: minors dni, +18, suggestive smut, edging, fingering, p! in v!, age gap (reader is 22)

“Hey Jense, would you mind keeping an eye on her? Missus and I will fly back to Australia but she’s staying here for a friend’s party”

My father would’ve never let me stay in a hotel. It had to be Jenson. Out of all his friends, all the people in the fucking UK, it had to be him.

And reminded that I’m 22. Not underage. And I can legally drink, thank you very much.

“Of course mate. I have a spare room she can use. I’ll barely be home this weekend.” It was the British Grand Prix and he is a presenter for Sky Sports, hence why he won’t be around.

To be fair, I only watch the post race show just to admire him. But my dad doesn’t need to know that, or Jenson himself. He doesn’t have to know how handsome he is or how smart he sounds given his knowledge in Formula One.

What’s more attractive than that?

And the fact that I have secret screenshots of his shots in my phone, but again, no one needs to know.

“Let me get her luggage full of god knows what type of dresses. I don’t even know when she bought them!”

"I hope you know how old I am, dad" I roll my eyes at his comment as Jenson lets out a small giggle, earning a death glare from my dad.

"Before she leaves the house, please make sure to see what she's wearing. And if there are any boys in sight." my dad warns him, as if I am going to enroll myself in the army and fight the enemy, which to him, would've been more preferable compared to a party.

"Got it. We definitely know that you think she's 17" Jenson replies and my mother laughs along, as I try not to burst out.

"If you side with Y/N, I will break your Porche." My dad's voice raise and I glance at Jenson who has a look plastered on his face as if he was offended and scared by the threat.

"I have kids myself, I think she's going to be safe with me. Come on Mark! I was the only driver you never crashed with, kinda." He takes the luggage away from my mother's hands and waves them goodbye as I go and hug them.

"Take care kiddo and if you need anything, im a call away. Also if you want to go to the paddock, the passes are under my name" he kisses my head after having me squeezed in a tight hug.

"Y-yes dad, I know. Now please let me go because I cant breathe."

"Sorry" he sets me free and I join Jenson's side. God he's tall and broad.

"Alright now, shall we?" he looks down at me and I nod, unable to utter a single word, even though I've know him my whole life.

The boys in my university were dying to hear stories with the senior formula one drivers, coming from a daughter of one. It's a nice feeling to narrate all the success and glory of this sport.

"Seriously though, your bag is very light. Are you even carrying anything in here?" Jenson asks, weighing up and down my luggage, flexing his muscles as I try not to drool all over the place.

"Only necessities. Dresses, shoes, makeup, few outfits for the race and condoms." the last one quite shocked him but also was a way of teasing him, given my major crush.

"You have condoms, yet I didn't hear you say panties"

"Won't be needing any"

"And why is that, may I ask?"

"Cause I like to be free. More access and more fun" I wink at him and I stare at his lips, a smirk is growing as each word is leaving mine.

"So you are telling me, that right now, underneath this short but nonetheless breathtaking dress, no panties are worn?"

I get closer to him and whisper softly in his ear:

"Wanna see for yourself?"

Honestly, don't ask me where I found this much confidence and especially with someone twice my age. And a friend of my dad's.

"Behave yourself darling" he coughs lightly to clear his throat and grabs me by the waist, so my dress doesn't float from the summer breeze.

"And what if I don't want you, Mr. Button?"

"Then you'll wish you had never said that" he growls and immediately opens me the door to his McLaren.

When he gets in the drivers seat, he wastes no time and gets on the road instantly. During the ride, there's a comfortable silence filling the atmosphere, until the air coming out of Jenson's window pulls up my dress and his hand quickly falls on my thigh, holding it down once more.

Jenson decides to roll up his window but his hand remains on my thigh and this time, is holding it firmly and starts caressing it from the inside.

Soft sighs leave my mouth, but controlling them is inevitable when his touch was all I have been craving since I turned 18. His foot hits the gas harder, speeding and driving in between the other slower cars. He reminds me of the Jenson back in his Brawn days and I can feel myself pooling just at the thought.

It was the very right time when his hand cupped my bare pussy, feeling the wetness caused by barely a thought of him. The slight touch of his fingers on my trembling self has my knees going paralyzed. I feel like crying from pleasure and yet I don't even know if he's doing that on purpose to embarrass me or if he's actually enjoying it too.

"Oh baby, you're definitely not behaving yourself" he says as his index finger draws circles around my clit. My legs are clenching his hand inside me as the other one holds the steering wheel, looking at his knuckles that have turned white.

"Jenson" I breathe out and moan simultaneously as he starts pumping two fingers inside me fiercely, letting myself to his mercy and unable to react.

"This behavior will have consequences young lady. I warned you" he lets a soft kiss on the crock of my neck and feeling his beard scratching it, I go absolutely insane.

"Then punish me sir" I blurt out without thinking and Jenson drives in seconds at the spot in front of his house, stops the car and places me on top of his lap with just one hand.

Jenson's lips crash into mine without wasting a second as his fingers play with my uncontrollably wet pussy. The feeling of moaning is surely necessary and I don't hold back. My tongue dances with his and the kiss gets deeper like his fingers, hitting perfectly my soft spot.

"You are going to be the death of me" Jenson says as his mouth falls on my neck, sucking it off like there's no tomorrow. My hands try to unbuckle his belt and eventually make it to the part where I can feel his erection growing. It's true what they say, older men do it better.

In other instances I would have been furious, but Jenson ripping my dress, just so he can have better access at my breasts is incredibly hot. I don't care that I am left vulnerable at his sight. At this I was pleading it.

My breast hurt from his kisses and I know in a few hours small red dickies will be covering the surface. My fingers decide to trace the shape of his thick cock but I can tell he wants to feel me. I have teased him and he me, for way too long.

"If you keep being naughty I won't let you cum, dear" a groan escapes his body as I take his length in my hands and caress the veins that have popped out.

"Then I want you to fill me up with your cum" I take him by surprise and I can sense his heartbeat raising from worry. He regards me as something innocent, precious and fragile. Which I am. But I feel ready and I am.

"Are you sure? I mean, have you? Uh? Had sex before?"

"I-uh-well, no. But-"

"Baby we can't do it here. You don't deserve to have your first time on a car. You deserve to be worshipped."

Jenson's words make me blush and my heart was flattering as if I was a fifteen years old again, simply watching him race and get multiple podiums.

He looks around and opens the door of his house and then quickly rushes with me inside and shuts it with such force, my legs started trembling.

Suddenly, he picks me up and carries me all the way to his bedroom. A dark room filled with some of his most iconic trophies and with his smell that has been covering my entire body since the moment I entered his car.

He turns on the soft baby lights on the bedrest and takes a look at my flushed self, covered with hickies he's gifted me. His eyes scan me from head to toe as if he's about to feast.

"I want you to tell me to stop whenever you feel uncomfortable in any way." He kisses me softly and I nod my head, knowing that he would never hurt anyone.

Jenson stands up and with his strong arms parts my legs so he can have a clear vision of my already swollen womanhood. My breast are half showing from inside my bra and my lips are bitten to the core. I am a mess but he seems to like it.

He removes his shirt in quick motions revealing his god like crafted body with the hints of dark ink covering his lower v and shoulder. I had never seen them before and I am was very pleased with what was in front of my eyes.

It doesn't take him too long to strip off his trousers and be left with simply his boxers that were trying to hold in his hardened cock and my patience as well. They were giving me a preview of what was about to happen.

As Jenson lowered his body his hands were hoisting down his boxers, revealing himself and it wasn't just my mouth that was drooling but also my pussy.

His hands now were on the insides of my thighs, holding them fiercely, whilst mine were hanging around his neck. I felt like my heart was about t burst out of my chest.

"Are you ready baby?"

I was at loss for words so I gave him a final kiss for reassurance that he could continue.

In slow motions, he lowered even more and started inserting himself inside me, pumping slowly as I was trying to get used to his size. My cries were out of control as Jenson was deepening himself and my pussy was stretched to its limits.

"Jesus, you're clenching me so well darling" he breathed out and I tried to open my legs wider for his pleasure. Jenson was panting on the hem of my neck and upping the pace of his thrusts.

"Dear lord this feels so good" It feels better than good. As if I am in the seventh heaven. I don't think any man will ever make me experience this. And I don't think I want to either.

"Say that again" he demands with a harder thrust, hitting my G-spot, earning the biggest moan of the night, echoing at the entire house.

"You make me feel so damn good Jenson" I gulp hard as I try to catch my breath and scratch his back from the pain that this gives me.

"And I shall be the only one darling" he hoists me up and removes my bra with a single movement, freeing my breasts and enjoying the sight, as they are bouncing up and down along with the trusts.

"Only you Jenson" I scream his name as loud as I can and his chest fills with pride as I am reaching my height.

"Cum sweetheart. Let go" I can't hold it in much longer and I cum all over his cock. He doesn't remove himself from inside me and I don't want to. This felt so right even though for some it's very wrong.

"That was, perfect" I say in a whispering manner as I am unable to speak louder. I am so wasted but full of thrill.

"You deserve it. You deserve to be treated like that dear"

#jenson button #jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #fanfic writing #f1 drivers

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gethimbackpdf · 5 months

Text

april • she/her • intp • minor • indian • bi • multifandom mess • bollywood enthusiast •

other accounts: goodreads | discord: april23.13

i don't do chain asks anymore, so please don't send them <3

prev urls: isnt-it-delicate15 -> timelessstv -> gxldrushh -> lovestrucklovelorn -> rachellelizabethhdare -> gethimbackpdf

artists I love

taylor swift • olivia rodrigo • sabrina carpenter • conan gray • halsey • gracie abrams • maisie peters and most importantly - random bollywood songs

movies

pride and prejudice (2005) • mean girls (2004) • the star wars films • legally blonde • little women (2019) • into the spiderverse and across the spiderverse • bollywood films like yeh jawani hain deewani, jab we met, dil dhadakne do, 3 idiots, zindagi na milegi dobara etc etc

tv shows

friends • brooklyn nine nine • modern family • how i met your mother • the good place • parks and recreation • gilmore girls • loki • ms marvel • wandavision • a series of unfortunate events • never have I ever • julie and the phantoms

books

keeper of the lost cities • the pandava quintet • riordanverse • grishaverse • the land of stories • hunger games trilogy • a good girl's guide to murder • the seven husbands of evelyn hugo • the inheritance games • the lunar chronicles • lockwood and co • daisy jones and the six • pride and prejudice • emma and too many more to count <3

currently watching: gilmore girls

currently reading: as good as dead

Other:

I may listen to and love taylor swift's music but i most definitely do not support the problematic things she has done, nor do i support her silence about the ongoing Palestinian genocide

dividers by @cafekitsune !!

you're welcome to send asks and interact :D DMs are always open as well!!

feel free to tag me in any post you think id like! (bonus points if its related to cats)

I tend to swear sometimes

DNI : basic dni criteria - creeps, racist, homophobes, transphobes, zionists, jkr supporters etc

I do not like colleen hoover and booktok. at all. and yes I will always complain about her shitty books and other atrocities that booktok (or tiktok in general) has unleashed upon the world

I make a lot of typos and it's up to you to decipher them <3

my biggest flex is that my birthday is on world book day <3

icon made by me 💞

english isn't my first language so please excuse me if I make any grammatical errors!!

moodboard by @skeelly <33

#intro post #pinned post

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axailslink · 1 year

Text

Doing Shuri's Hair

Shuri x FEM reader

•Shuri is definitely tender headed she flinches and kicks

°Loves when you cut her hair however

-"what design are you putting in the back?" She's all giddy trying to use the handheld mirror in her hand to sneak a peak you snatch it away and continue "probably a dick if you don't stay rooted"

•Loves the way braids look on her but hates sitting there for them

-"you're doing this purposely aren't y- ah Bast!" She'd constantly reach her hand up to grab your own mid braid.

°Enjoys wash days with you because you take the time to massage and detangle.

-"you look so good up there" she says while smiling up at you you roll your eyes "I hope you get shampoo in your eyes" you continue massage her hair

-"ah ah that hurts" even though you're gently combing through her curls as they're all soaped up she still flinches "it only hurts because you're moving be still" Shuri being herself she glances up "if I'm rooted enough will I get a reward?" You turn her head and continue combing.

•You would have to entrap her in your legs as if she was a child to keep her rooted to the floor because she's constantly flinching and bitching.

°She's the type of person to be completely feeling herself after getting her hair braided she's posing taking pictures.

-"you did your thing because I look good" you just flex your hands trying to get rid of the constant cramps caused by fighting her to get her to be still.

"Can I kiss the hairstylist?" She asks as she wraps her hands around your waist but you are not having it "do you see the hairstylist's hands? I'm covered in grease and hair oil I smell like a hair shop all I need is to plug up a curling iron to complete." Shuri laughs at you and kisses your forehead "yet you look so good doing it sthandwa I am so grateful to have you."

•Shuri would help you clean up after

°Massage your hands because she'd notice you repeatedly flexing them

-shuri kisses your hands and rubs her thumbs into them "my head hurts" she mumbles you laugh "oh your head hurts? You should feel the pain my hands are feeling right now"

•Would eventually learn on her own one day and come home happily to show you

A/n: not proud of this just needed to post something before cleaning up tonight.

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starsandhughes · 6 months

Text

Penalty Box Series— Quinn Hughes Edition (Seven)

23-24 Season Masterlist

previous: six

next: eight

OCTOBER 31, 2023

again: THESE STATS ARE BASED OFF THE ACTUAL DAY!

p.s. i skipped the rags game

yourusername

liked by _eliaspettersson, _quinnhughes, and 12,566 others

yourusername welcome back to my postgame penalty box update show: WHO RUNS THE WORLD? QUINN! edition!

with his first assist on laffy taffy's goal, quinn got his 250th career point! this makes him the second fastest active defenseman to reach 250 points in under 300 games! he did it in 292 games, which equaled the 12th fewest of all time!

but let's not forget the other two assists tonight! his three assists tonight gave him his 48th career multi-point game, his 19th three point game, and his 14th three assists game! he now has 18 total career assists against nashville, which ties his total against the oilers for the most assists he has against any one team! (note that he's played the oilers more because of the 20-21 season where van played them 10 times)

john said that it's "a hughes lead in the east and the west" during the game, and here's why:

quinn has 11 points, so he is 1st for dmen, and tied for 7th overall! he also has a (+/-) of +11, which leads THE ENTIRE LEAGUE!

jack leads the entire league in points AND assists with 18 and 13, and luke is tied for second for all rookies in points and assists!

quinn and luke are tied for 4th in power play points for dmen overall, luke is 2nd for all rookies, and jack is tied for 1st for all skaters!

i’m so proud of my nuckies for their 5-2 win against the preds, my brothers, and most of all, my best friend💙 i love you way past infinity!

p.s. PETEY! MY BLONDE KING! INSTEAD OF GOING TRICK-OR-TREATING, YOU WENT HAT-TRICKING! congratulations on your second career hatty, and your first at home! i love you, and i’m so proud of you! keep an eye out for your hatty medal in the mail!

p.s.s. quinn is the first player in CANUCKS HISTORY to have a +10 rating during the first seven games! i asked for a record breaking season, and i’m getting it!

tagged _quinnhughes and _eliaspettersson

view all 227 comments

_quinnhughes oh you and your stats (i love you way past beyond💙)

yourusername it's a flex!! be proud!! the girlies love a self confident man!!

oliviaabonn yes we do🤍

yourusername see! (@/oliviaabonn i miss you)

oliviaabonn (@/yourusername i miss you)

_quinnhughes alright point taken! i am proud of myself

yourusername woooowwww, cocky much?

_quinnhughes i should've seen that coming

user65 ALL HAIL THE SKATE JERSEYS

jackhughes ME?? GETTING PRAISE IN A QUINN POST?? WHO ARE YOU??

yourusername "thank you, sissy! i love you and my biggest accomplishment is being your twin brother/soulmate" (jack) "you're so welcome, jacky boy! i love you more <3" (me)

jackhughes sure

yourusername you're so good to me🥰

trevorzegras @/jackhughes you're so well spoken

jackhughes @/trevorzegras thanks, man! i’m proud to be eloquent

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes you googled that word, didn't you?

jackhughes @_quinnhughes you can't even prove that, can you?

user76 I'M LOVING CANUCKS HOCKEY

user52 who needs sports net to tell me stats when i have sissy?

yourusername they should hire me fr

_eliaspettersson i don't get my medal specially delivered in person? i see how it is... it's a good thing i love you, too, sissy

yourusername blame my fiancé!

_eliaspettersson you're coming to see us play the stars!

yourusername OH YEAH THAT IS SOON

trevorzegras @/yourusername did you just forget a stars game?!

_quinnhughes @/yourusername who are you and what have you done with my sister?

_eliaspettersson @/trevorzegras @_quinnhughes don't attack her while i’m trying to get my medal

yourusername i’m having a crisis

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes @_eliaspettersson she's not kidding she just screamed into my shirt

_eliaspettersson @/trevorzegras so be nicer to her

colecaufield @_quinnhughes petey and sissy are your matthew and sissy, aren't they?

_quinnhughes @/colecaufield i don't want to talk about it

canucks we love our boys!

yourusername WE REALLY DO!!

user6 HUGHES NATION RISE

lhughes_06 thank you, sissy! i love you and my biggest accomplishment is being your little brother❤️

jackhughes what is the reason for ass kissing? she holds no power over you

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes she holds secrets

yourusername awww! i love you, too, lukey moosey! it's an honor being your big sister❤️

_quinnhughes this was supposed to be my post and it was barely even my caption

yourusername @_quinnhughes it was 87.5% your pictures! 88.888889% if you count the penalty count!

_quinnhughes @/yourusername i do not

yourusername @_quinnhughes it was 87.5% your pictures! not including the one of you and demmer, that's 75% your pictures! and out of 22 sentences, 13 are just pertaining to you and only you, which is 59.091%, and 2 more include you, which brings you up to 15 sentences making the caption 68.1818% yours! so out of 22 sentences and we'll say 8 pictures (30 parts), 19 parts are only about you which makes the post 63.333% JUST yours, and 22/30 parts include you, which makes the post 73.333% about you! AND only one pic is a meme!

_quinnhughes @/yourusername ... thank you

yourusername @_quinnhughes you're welcome, huggy!💙

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes she did that with her own calculator and everything

_alexturcotte when they do math for you>🥵

yourusername @_alexturcotte ;)

user12 did sissy just... spitefully show love?

user99 how has no one addressed the fact that sissy has been calling sam lafferty "laffy taffy"😭 she hasn't even met him that's so cute

yourusername i facetimed quinn to meet everyone new to the team so that i could get their interests for their goodie bags! he loves his nickname!

user99 STOP THAT'S SO CUTE

colecaufield where's my praise, mm? i set an nhl record this season!

yourusername p.s.s.s. SHOUTOUT TO MY BEST FRIEND NUMBER TWO FOR NOW HOLDING THE NHL RECORD FOR FEWEST GAMES TO SCORE SIX CAREER OT GOALS! HE DID IT IN 130 GAMES! he has surpassed brayden point, who's record was 190! i love you, and i’m so proud! (p.s.s.s.s. i’m glad your surgery went well @.kdach77 ! your care package has been mailed! i love you!)

colecaufield i don't even get the caption?! and it's not even all about me?! i see how it is

yourusername quinn already had an aneurysm! i don't think i wanna kill him! and kirby died! i love him!

kdach77 @/yourusername thank you, sister hughes! i love you, too!

_quinnhughes @/yourusername THINK?!

yourusername @_quinnhughes sometimes you get on my nerves

yourusername @/kdach77 MWAH🤍

jackhughes HA

trevorzegras my girl is so sweet❤️ i love you, forever

_alexturcotte y/n deserves a nobel peace prize for how kind she is❤️

lhughes_06 i’m so glad i have a role model like sissy❤️

yourusername i love my fans <3 (@/trevorzegras i love you, always❤️)

_eliaspettersson added this post to their story

canucks added this post to their story

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random-thot-generator · 4 months

Text

Dirty Little Secret + Pt. 4

JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH x FEM READER

Summary: You think the worst is over until you go on your morning walk and realize your troubles have just begun.

Warnings/Tags: Profanity, angst, explicit language, light dub con- Soap steals a kiss, reader is feelin' it, but she's pissed about it, Johnny's a cheeky git, No use of Y/N

(Notes: Sprinkled just a wee, teensy tiny bit of spice in this one, but nothing to clutch your pearls over. Aunt Rue's just settling in to enjoy the show now.)

Word Count: 1.5K

You were shaking with barely contained rage as you let yourself in the bakery the following morning. Aunt Rue called out to you, as usual, then came out of the back when you didn't answer right away. You couldn't. You were choking on your own fury.

"What's the matter, love?" she asked, eyeing your flustered state.

"I ran into bloody Johnny this morning, that's what!" you snapped, marching back to the office.

Rue trailed after you, watching as you stripped off your jacket with angry, jerky movements and threw it at the coat tree. "He didn't leave, then?" she asked, tone mild.

"Apparently not," you gritted out, stomping past her and back out to the front.

After that little scene with Johnny the day before, you had finally come clean with your aunt about him, so now she knew all the sordid details, but to your surprise and dismay, her only advice had been, "Talk to him, lass. 'S the only way you'll find peace."

You thought, at the time, that her advice was useless. You thought Johnny would go back to Hereford after confronting him about his other bird. You thought wrong.

Still fuming, you started prepping behind the counter, banging and slamming things around, muttering under your breath as your aunt watched on in amusement.

"The lad's certainly got you riled up this morning," she commented, which did nothing to improve your current disposition.

"He's bloody infuriating," you snarled, banging the lid back on the water urn. "The fucking cheek of him!"

Rue pressed her lips together to keep from grinning. She waited until your back was turned before asking, "Well, what did he do to get you so, um... worked up?"

Your shoulders tensed, hands stilling as you felt heat creeping up from your chest. "Nothing," you eventually muttered, then stomped off to hide in the stock room, away from your aunt's keen eyes.

In truth, you were incensed the moment you spotted Johnny jogging along the boardwalk that morning. Almost twisting your ankle on the loose pebbles of the beach, you'd stomped your way up the stairs, scattering a small group of seagulls pecking around a trash bin. Your voice sounded similar to their high-pitched squawks when you confronted him.

"Why are you still here?"

Johnny stood panting in front of you, sweat trickling down his brow and cheeks, his tee damp and clinging to his thick chest and arms. He huffed at you, pulling up the tail of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, exposing his firm abs, happy trail on full display.

"An' good mornin' to ye, too, bonnie," he replied, looking you up and down with a crooked grin. "Yer lookin' good t'day."

"Don't start with me, Johnny. Why are you still here?" you demanded.

He sauntered over to the railing and braced his hands against it, extending a leg out behind him as he started doing his post-run stretches. Muscles bulged and flexed beneath a layer of fine, dark hair, distracting you despite how angry you were.

Damn him.

He peered at you over his shoulder, grinning. "Place is sorta growin' on me. Quiet little village, ocean views, good people. Beats the hell outta Hereford, tha's fer sure."

You leaned a hip against the railing while he continued with his stretches, crossing your arms over your chest. "Shouldn't you be gettin' back to your lass? I'm sure she's missing you by now," you snarked, tone bitter.

He huffed again, shaking his head. "Christ. Dunno wha' ye thought ye saw, hen, but I've no' been wi' anyone else. Not since you," he added, the look in his eye heated. Hungry.

"Bullshit!" you hissed at him.

There was a momentary flash of anger in his blue eyes, but then he smirked. "Think yer the one bullshittin', hen."

"Fuck you and your bullshit! I saw her with you!" you snapped, jabbing a finger at him.

He was on you in the blink of an eye, caging you against the railing, hands gripping the rail on either side of your hips as he leaned into you. "Describe her to me, then," he purred. "Tell me 'bout this new bird o' mine."

"Fine," you gritted between your clenched teeth. "She's taller than me, slender, long, curly dark hair… pretty. You took her to the coffee shop near that Thai place."

He gave you a quizzical look, then recognition dawned in his eyes and a smirk curled up his lips. He reached for the small pack at his waist and took out his phone. Tapping at the screen a few times, he turned it around for you to look at a pic he'd saved. "This the bird yer talkin' 'bout?"

You stared at the image of the same young woman you'd seen him with him all those months ago. You'd never forget her face; it had been seared into your brain like a brand.

"Yeah, that's her," you mumbled, looking away.

He turned the phone to look at her pretty face himself and sniffed in amusement. "Aye, Sorcha's a bonnie lass. Looks jus' like our mam."

'Our mam'???

Wait...

You snatched the phone out of his hand to scrutinize the image up close, a sick feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Her hair was a shade lighter than Johnny's with auburn highlights, but the eyes… the same shape, the same Prussian blue shade. The longer you studied her pic, the easier it was to see the family resemblance. Looked like that devilish little smirk was hereditary, too.

Ah, bloody hell…

You couldn't meet his eyes, embarrassment making your whole body flush hot. You handed his phone back, all that righteous anger pumping you up now deflating like a balloon. Slanting a sulky look at him, you gave in with begrudging acceptance. "How would I know that you had a sister?" you muttered, averting your eyes again.

Johnny sighed, putting his phone away. "Ya could no' have kenned it 'cause I never tol' ye," he admitted, his tone contrite, not gloating, like you expected. "There's a lot I should'a tol' ye, bonnie. A lot I should'a asked, too."

He tipped your chin up to look into your eyes, and you knew he was about to kiss you; you had seen that same look on his face a thousand times. You turned your head, hands pushing at his chest. "No. Don't," you whispered, voice wavering.

"Sweetheart, dinnae be mad," he cooed, cupping your cheek. "Now that ye ken the truth, we can—"

"We can what, Johnny? Go back to how things were?" There was a distinct warble to your voice now, tears already pricking at your eyes. You huffed out an exasperated breath, shaking your head. "No. I can't go back to that. I won't."

You pushed past him and started walking at a clipped pace, steps hurried. You needed to get away from him, get your head clear.

"Bonnie, wait!" he called, jogging after you. "C'mon, hen," he pleaded, taking you by the arm. "We can work this out. Jus' give us a chance."

You yanked your arm out of his light grip and glared at him. "I gave you two years of my life, Johnny. I can't do this anymore," you sobbed out, breath hitching.

He drew his hand away, a pained expression on his face. "Bonnie…"

"It's too little, too late, Johnny. Just… go home."

You again tried to walk away from him, but then his hands were at your waist, spinning you 'round and tugging you against him. You pushed at him, tears now slipping down your cheeks. "What are you doing?"

"Testin' a theory," he murmured, then his hand was cupping the back of your head, and he crashed his lips to yours.

Say what you want about Johnny MacTavish, but the bastard knew how to kiss. He had you melting against him in an instant, overwhelmed and clinging to him, no longer pushing him away. His tongue licked into your mouth, and he groaned, arms tightening to mold your body to his.

When he finally broke the kiss, he peered down at you, eyes hooded with desire. He took in your dazed expression and smirked, looking smug as hell. He then let you go and stepped back, wiping the spit from his bottom lip with his thumb, the look in his eye pure sin.

"Best get on t'work, bonnie. Yer goin' t'be late."

You blinked, head still a little hazy, brain slow to process what he had just done. Oh, but when it finally sunk in, you were spitting mad.

"Ooh! You— You bloody arsehole!" you seethed. Growling, you spun on your heel and stalked away, a string of profanities left in your wake.

Johnny laughed, elated after that telling kiss. "Be seein' ye soon, bonnie!" he called after you.

You threw an angry glance over your shoulder, only to see him blow you a kiss and give a cheeky wink before turning and jogging back the way he came.

Fuck!

You'd never get rid of him now, you thought, as you hurried towards the bakery, trying your best to ignore the dull ache in your core and the damp patch in your knickers.

part 3 part 5

#john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #cod soap x reader #john soap mactavish x fem reader #soap x fem reader #cod soap x fem reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #cod soap #call of duty #cod mw2 fanfic

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okaylikesmomo · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1: Fearless

"She's seriously so amazing."

You were laying on your couch while Chaewon was laying on top of you, holding a tablet. The two of you were watching the live clip of INVU that Taeyeon posted recently. Chaewon was in awe at her voice, and quite frankly you were also very impressed. Taeyeon's voice was so beautiful, capturing her emotion so well. You slide your arm down from the back of the couch and hug Chaewon from behind.

"She's amazing, but you're more amazing," you whisper into her ear.

She doesn't respond.

"Chae?"

"Huh?" she sniffles.

You lean forward and turn to look at her face, "are you... crying?"

She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, "what, no," she replies unconvincingly.

You lean back again and start laughing, "no way, this actually made you tear up?"

She leans her head back into you, resting it on your chest, "her voice is just so full of emotion," she sighs.

"Yeah, I agree," you say before kissing the back of her head, "but I like yours more."

She turns the tablet off and places it on the coffee table, "well you're wrong, her voice is better."

You stroke Chaewon's short hair, clearing it from her face, "yeah but your voice comes from you, and Taeyeon isn't the one who cuddles with me," you say before pulling her back so that the two of you are cuddling again and giving her a tight squeeze.

Chaewon giggles and looks up at you, "would you rather cuddle with Taeyeon?"

"Well..." you hesitate.

Wrong answer. Chaewon's mouth opens wide as she looks at you in disbelief. She gets off you and glares at you, crossing her arms, pretending to be upset with you.

"Come on, are you saying you wouldn't cuddle with Taeyeon?" you ask.

"That's not the point," she whines, trying to contain her smile.

You lean forward on top of her so that she's now on her back and slide your hand up her sweater, tickling her sides a bit. Her demeanor cracks and she starts giggling. She leans her face forward a bit towards yours, and you meet her halfway, planting your lips on hers. As the two of you make out, you feel her abs flex as she is basically doing a crunch in order to reach you.

You stop making out and she falls onto her back again, "let me make it up to you?"

There is a tinge of sadness in her expression, "not tonight," she says regretfully.

Before you can voice your objection, she holds up her phone to show you the time.

"Ah, forgot you're an idol and still have a bedtime."

"It's not a bedtime," she argues as she sits up and fixes her sweater, "it's just we have an important check in tomorrow morning since our comeback is so soon."

"You guys literally practice every day."

She stands up, "you of all people should know being an idol is tough."

"Dating one can be difficult at times, too," you complain as you put on a hoodie and grab your keys.

Chaewon walks up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist, her head on your shoulder, "but it's worth it right?" she asks softly.

You turn your head and answer her question with a quick kiss on the cheek before leading her to your car. You truly did understand that it was tough work, and you were here to support her however you could.

"When are you done with work tomorrow?" you ask as you walk.

She thinks for a moment, "actually, I don't think we have any schedules after dance practice."

"Should I pick you up after?" you ask.

"Why don't you just come work from the office?"

Luckily you had a job in software that granted you many benefits, such as being allowed to work remotely whenever you wished. It also paid quite well.

"I could do that, but how does that benefit me?"

She leans forward slightly so that you can see her as she poses cutely with her hands on her chin, "you get to spend more time with me!"

You reach your hand up and pinch her cheek, "I'll think about it."

She enters your car and leans back into the seat and pouts again, "you should be jumping on that."

"I would have happily jumped on that tonight if you didn't have a bedtime."

"Yahh, that's not fair," she whines sadly.

You reach a hand over and massage her thigh as you drive to her dorm. The drive was short, and Chaewon spent most of it looking at Instagram. You park the car and the two of you step out into the chilly night, walking to the front door.

"Really though, I think we have a short day, you should come."

You step closer to her, "I might as well just stay the night then," you whisper before kissing her.

She moves her face back slightly, "that's a bad idea," she answers breathily before pushing her lips onto yours once more.

You caress her face as you make out briefly before reaching your hands around her body and sliding them downwards. You're kneading her soft body with your fingers when you hear a click: The front door opens slightly.

"Unnie? Oh hey!"

You and Chaewon quickly separate as you turn to face the door. Kazuha was peeking just her head out between the crack as she smiled warmly at you. Naturally, you got to spend a bit of time with the Le Sserafim members, and you became pretty close with them. They were lovely girls, and you all seemed to get along decently. You always enjoyed spending time with Kazuha, and she also happened to be unbelievably pretty even for idol standards.

"Hello Zuha, what are you doing up so late?"

She opens the door slightly, revealing her body, "oh I was just about to go to sleep when I heard you guys outside."

Your eyes open wide as you do a double take, "wow... umm... right."

"Ahhhhhh Zuha you can't answer the door in your underwear like this," Chaewon groans as she steps forward towards the door and starts pushing Kazuha in.

"What's wrong, he doesn't mind, right?" Kazuha says playfully as she gets pushed inside.

The door shuts and Chaewon turns to face you, shaking her head, "at least pretend."

"Does she always sleep like that?" you ask.

Chaewon crosses her arms, "and why is that your business?"

"Because she's really hot," you say.

Chaewon bursts out laughing at your answer, "you make it really hard to scold you when you act dumb."

You step forward while smiling and kiss her cheek, "I'll come tomorrow."

She kisses your cheek back and opens the door.

"As long as Kazuha is there, too," you add.

You hear one last laugh from Chaewon before she closes the door.

Sakura lay on her bed watching YouTube videos as she tries to fall asleep. She hears noises coming from outside, so she gets up to see what was happening. She took a peek out of a window that overlooked the front door where she saw Chaewon kiss you on the cheek. She steps back from the window with a frown on her face. She sighs and walks back to her room where she falls onto her bed, her head facing sideways. She tries her best to fall asleep, feeling extra lonely tonight.

You sat at one of the tables in the HYBE cafeteria, sipping on some coffee after you had just finished lunch. The kitchen here was phenomenal, as the company spared no expenses. The food served was higher quality than many restaurants, and it was all made in house. You were considering getting some more when suddenly, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your body from behind.

"Guess who's done already?"

Immediately recognizing that cute voice, you turn around to face Chaewon who was smiling at you, "you weren't kidding about having a short day."

She straddles your lap, sipping away at an iced coffee, wrapping her free arm around your neck, "actually, our instructor wasn't feeling well, so they canceled the check in. We just practiced on our own for a bit."

Kazuha, also holding an iced coffee, sits down next to you. She sat very close to you, to the point where your arms were touching.

"Hello Kazuha," you greet her, thinking about last night.

She smiles prettily, "Hello."

Chaewon stands up, "I'm going to quickly get changed, and then we're going out."

"Where are we going?" you ask.

"I don't know yet," she says before walking away. "Keep Zuha company while I'm gone!"

She was generally the spontaneous type, so this was nothing new to you. Your attention turns to Kazuha who was scrolling on her phone, completely oblivious to the fact that she was sitting much closer to you than what would be considered a normal distance.

"Where are the other girls?"

She looks up from her phone, "hm? Oh I think they went home already."

"How come you didn't go with them?"

"I have a photoshoot in a little bit so I figured I'd just stay," she says as she looks you up and down. "Don't you think you're sitting a bit close?"

"Wait, what... I was sitting here first," you stutter, not entirely sure if she was messing with you.

Kazuha wraps her arm around yours and leans her head on your shoulder before returning to her phone, "I didn't know you liked me that much."

You feel your cheeks get a bit warm. This girl was always so carefree and nonchalant about things, you found it hard to understand at times. That being said, you had no issue being close to such an attractive girl.

"Look at this, isn't it cute?" she asks as she shows you her phone. A short clip of some college boys dancing to Fearless was playing.

"Wow, they're actually really good."

She laughs, "I know right, I love watching these types of fan videos."

The two of you watch some other random videos made by fans when Chaewon returns. She was wearing an adorable skirt with a small, white hoodie. She puts her purse on your lap and starts looking through it. She pulls out a small bottle of hair mist and sprays a bit on herself, the amazing scent hitting your nose.

"Ready to go?" she asks, not at all bothered by the fact that Kazuha was wrapped around your arm.

"Yeah, did you decide where we're going?"

"I don't know, walk in a park?" she suggests as she puts the bottle away and pulls out some lip gloss, applying it. "Zuha do you want to join us?"

"I would, but I have a photoshoot to go to," she says sadly. Kazuha suddenly kisses your cheek and stands up, "you two have fun though, I'll see you later!"

"Call me when you're done, we can drive you home, right?" Chaewon asks you.

"Yeah no problem at all."

The two girls hug briefly before Chaewon holds her hand out to you, "let's go."

You take her hand and stand up, walking with her to the elevators. "Are you okay with how close Kazuha is with me sometimes?"

She tilts her head, "why would that be an issue?"

The two of you enter the elevator, "I don't know... I just thought I'd ask."

"Zuha is like a little sister to me, I would hope that you get along well," she says. There is a pause where she notices your concern, "look, I already told you I don't get jealous easily. If you want to mess around with the members, I'm fine with it. Except for Eunchae of course, she's still a baby."

"I know, I just... I don't know."

She steps closer to you and kisses your lips for a moment before backing up staring into your eyes with a smile, "you have my permission, the only thing I ask is that you don't do anything without telling me, and you tell me if you ever start to have feelings for any of them."

You hug her, "love you." You have had this conversation before, but you've never taken her up on her offer. Even though Chaewon had made it very clear to you that she was okay with it, you were still hesitant. Especially when it came to Sakura, you kept your relationship very formal as the two of you had history.

"I'm not dumb, I know my members are beautiful, I've fooled around with them before, too."

You pull apart from the hug, "hold up, you've never told me that."

"Oh come on, you realize all idols fool around at least a little bit," she laughs at your expression. "Think about it, a bunch of young girls who live together, work together, go through everything together, and see eachother naked all the time. Happens in every group, even back in IZONE."

"Wait so how often do you..." you begin as the elevator doors open and a young man walks in.

She smiles cutely and winks before grabbing your hand and walking to your car.

"You know what, I'm going to set you up on a date with Zuha."

You cough lightly, shocked at her comment, "what, why."

"I'm not breaking up with you, pabo," she laughs, "I just need to convince you that I'm serious. Also, she has mentioned before that she finds you cute."

"She has?" you ask, that warm feeling returning. Did she really find you cute?

The two of you sit down in your car and Chaewon enters your destination into the GPS.

"Yeah we've actually talked about this before," she says before looking at you with a slightly more serious expression. "But when you do go with her, can you promise to treat her properly?"

"Obviously, what do you think I would do to her?"

"No no, it's nothing like that," she says. "It's just... she has never had a boyfriend before and we're technically not allowed to have boyfriends right now, with you being the exception since we started dating before debut. I just feel like she deserves a chance to experience it."

"What about Yunjin?" you ask, already knowing about Sakura's past.

"She dated back in school when she was in America, but nothing ever since moving to Korea."

As you park your car at the park, Chaewon steps out and pulls her hood up tightly before running around the front of the car, bumping into you hard and interlocking your arms together.

"Even though I'm letting you go on a date with Zuha, you're still mine," she says somewhat aggressively.

The two of you start walking, "but what if we hit it off really well?"

"You'd better," she replies. "Don't you dare break Zuha's heart."

"I wouldn't do that, but what if I fall for her during our date?" you ask.

"You wouldn't leave me."

She hid it well, but you heard the smallest hint of worry in her voice as if it was something she had thought about before. You lean over slightly and kiss her cheek, "you're right, I wouldn't leave someone so perfect."

Chaewon looks around the park at the few people that were present, "how about we go somewhere a bit more private so I can show you how perfect I really am?"

After hearing her words, you quickly step off the path and begin searching for a secluded area. Chaewon giggles as you pull her along towards a small opening surrounded by trees. It was relatively hidden from the main path, and you would only be exposed if someone happened to stumble through the same way you came from.

You turn to Chaewon and kiss her on the lips, "does this work?"

She looks around, pretending to analyze the spot, "I guess it will do," she says before taking off your jacket and tossing it on the ground. She gets on her knees and pulls you down so that you are sitting next to her. "I owe you for last night," she says as she rummages through her bag which was on your lap.

You push her hair behind her ear and out of her face, "you don't owe me anything."

She must have found whatever she was looking for because she brings a finger up to your lips, "shush, now kiss me."

There was no need for a second invitation as you happily tilt your head and press your lips against Chaewon's again. The sweet kick of her lip gloss hit your taste buds immediately, making you crave her taste even more. Her plump lips squished against your mouth as the two of you began playing with each other's tongues. While the two of you made out, you felt her hand start rubbing your crotch. In response, you wrap your right arm around her body and rest your hand on her soft butt.

Chaewon leans back slightly, still close enough to where she is breathing into your mouth, "are you sure I don't owe you anything," she whispers seductively.

"No- I was- wrong," you answer, kissing her between words.

She pulls back again before grabbing a bottle of hand cream that she must have pulled out of her bag earlier. She stares into your eyes seductively as she squeezes a hefty amount into her palm. In response, you slide your hand up her skirt and squeeze her ass cheek, making her smirk at you. She closes the bottle and puts it down when her phone starts to ring.

"Hello?" she answers while still holding her lotion filled hand up. "Oh no that's not good, yeah, okay see you soon."

You stop playing with her butt, "who was that?"

"Kazuha, there must be a flu going around because her photographer also got sick," she answers. "Apparently the girls went shopping and Kazuha asked if we can drop her off at the center, but we can still do this quickly."

With great regret you let go of her butt and started standing up, "it's not right to keep her waiting, don't worry we can finish this later tonight."

Chaewon, still on her knees, looks up at you with an adorable pout, "sorry..."

You grab her lotion-covered hand and pull her up so that she's also standing and kiss her cheek. The two of you grab your stuff before walking back to your car, both of you rubbing the cream into your hands, "at least my hands feel super smooth now,” you comment. Chaewon smiles and the two of you walk back, hand in hand.

"When are you guys coming back to the dorm?" Chaewon asks.

"Probably late," Kazuha answers softly. "Thank you for driving me, I hope I didn't disturb anything."

"Any time Zuha," you say, peeking over at Chaewon who was smirking slightly. "If you want to join them for shopping you can."

Chaewon looks at you, still smirking, "no I think I'll pass today."

Perfect, you think to yourself, that means the dorm would be empty. Chaewon was definitely thinking the same thing as she quietly slid her hand into your lap as you drove. She rubs you over your pants a couple times before sneaking her hand up towards your waistband. She began to tease entering her hand down your pants when she suddenly stopped.

"Ah, our instructor is taking tomorrow off, too," Kazuha notes from the backseat.

Chaewon suppresses a giggle as she removes her hand from your lap while you respond to Kazuha, "I hope it's not too serious, is she alright?"

"Hmmm," Kazuha thinks while reading her messages, "it sounds like she's fine and just needs a bit of rest, does this mean we can start a bit later tomorrow?"

"Yeah I guess that's fine," Chaewon answers while pulling out her phone. "But we're still doing a full day, our comeback is too close for us to be taking days off right now."

She began typing a message which you assume was for their group chat. Chaewon, alongside Sakura, was already quite well-versed in the Kpop industry, and you found it very admirable the way she would guide the group. She wasn't too strict or harsh from what you've seen, but she knew what needed to be done and made sure that it was being taken care of.

"I, for one, am super excited to see the product of all your hard work," you announce. "I can't wait for your comeback."

"I know you've heard it, but has Chaewon unnie been showing you the choreo?"

"Yeah I've seen it all," you answer, looking in the rearview mirror at Kazuha who was staring out the window. "I love that leg kick part, I've tried to copy it but it's so much harder than it looks." Even though she was looking to the side out the window, you could see her smile and blush slightly at your comment.

You pull up in front of the shopping mall when Kazuha thanks you again before stepping out. She exchanges a few words with Chaewon before going inside. Chaewon returns to the car and sits down, turning her body entirely so she's facing you with a huge smile.

"Sounds like our place is empty for a bit, coming over?" she says alluringly.

"She'll be able to find them by herself right? Is it safe? Should we go with her?"

"It's perfectly safe, we do it all the time," Chaewon says with a sigh. "It's really sweet and all that you care so much, but can you focus?"

You wrap an arm around her and pull her closer, "sorry, I've been thinking about this since last night," you say before kissing her again.

In no time you find yourself in front of the Le Sserafim dorm. You wait patiently behind Chaewon as she opens the door, your eyes fixated on her tiny skirt. The two of you walk into the house and Chaewon turns on some lights before putting her purse down on the kitchen counter. As soon as she puts it down she turns around and looks at you for just a brief second before the two of you begin furiously making out again.

"I can't... fucking... wait..." she moans between kisses while you push her back against the wall.

You reach down and lift her up from the back of her thighs, making her let out a loud giggle as you were now holding her up against the wall, standing between her legs. You kiss her again while her heavy breaths fill your mouth. Her incessant teasing today was driving you into a lust-filled rage, and you also couldn't wait; It took a great deal of self-control to stop yourself from stripping her down right here and taking her, but you put her back down.

"How about you head up to your bedroom and get ready, I have to quickly check something for work first," you say. "Then I'll come up and join you."

She pouts at you, "fine, but be quick."

You give her butt a playful slap as she heads up the stairs before grabbing your laptop and taking a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. You quickly begin finishing up your work. As you were typing out your last message, you hear a small cough from behind you. You close the laptop and start turning around.

"I'm sorry it took longer-" you stop mid sentence. "Eunchae?"

"I heard giggling and it woke me up," Eunchae says innocently before coughing again.

"I thought you were out shopping... nevermind, here come sit," you say as you guide her to the couches in the living room. "Sounds like you got that flu that has been going around the company."

"Maybe... I think I'll be fine after a night of rest," she says before she balls up in the corner of the couch and closes her eyes. "You and Chaewon unnie can continue whatever was going on, I'll be alright."

"No it's okay we weren't doing anything," you say as you sit down next to her and place a hand on her forehead. "No fever, that's a good sign. Do you want me to get you something to eat or anything like that?"

She opens her eyes and looks at you with a smile, "thank you, but you really don't need to worry about me, I'm seriously fine."

"Are you sure? I could make something for you if you want," you bargain with the girl. "You did say you like my cooking."

"I see why she likes you so much," Eunchae says with a warm smile. "I promise if I need anything I'll ask, thank you."

You stand up and pat her head before walking over to the kitchen. You pour two glasses of water and start walking back to the couch when you hear Chaewon running down the stairs.

"How can you take so long knowing I'm sitting here waiting to be-" Chaewon stops herself short when she hears Eunchae cough on the couch. She quickly ties up her robe and runs over to the younger girl, "oh my gosh, are you okay Eunchae? You sound awful, have you taken any cough syrup yet?"

"I'm feeling better," Eunchae says sweetly. "What exactly were you waiting for Chaewon unnie?" she adds innocently.

Chaewon's face of concern suddenly changes, "oh umm, he was supposed to bring me a drink."

Eunchae tilts her head, "a drink is what you couldn't fucking wait for earlier?" she asks mischievously.

"Yahh Eunchae!" Chaewon complains, "you weren't supposed to hear that."

The younger girl starts laughing when her laughs suddenly turn to coughs.

Chaewon's expression of annoyance quickly returns to one of concern, "are you sure you're okay?" she asks while taking a seat next to her.

"I'll manage, it should be better by tomorrow," Eunchae says with a sniffle. "You and oppa can go do whatever you had planned."

Chaewon leans over and pulls Eunchae into a hug, "how about we watch a movie or something instead?" she suggests before mouthing the words "I'm sorry" to you behind Eunchae's back.

"I think that's a great idea," you chime in while walking over and taking a seat. "Is it fine if I join?"

Eunchae looks at you with a bright smile, clearly happy that she wouldn't be alone tonight, "I guess so, but you have to pick the movie then."

After a little bit of browsing you end up watching some low budget horror film. You didn't expect to find it particularly scary or anything, but it was always funny watching scary movies with the Le Sserafim members. The movie quickly starts getting a bit creepy, and the two girls are holding onto each other pretty tightly. You were pretty sure Chaewon was more scared than Eunchae. The irony of their debut being called Fearless really dawned on you here.

You get up to quickly go to the bathroom, and you're pretty certain that neither girl even notices. As you're washing your hands, you hear the two girls scream. You couldn't help but laugh as you quietly exited the bathroom and started walking back to the living room. You could see the top of their heads barely sticking out over the backrest as they were both slumped up together when you get an idea.

You sneak up behind the couch and see the movie at a tense moment as one of the characters is about to walk into a classroom. Just as the door turns on the screen, you grab both of their shoulders.

"DON'T DO THAT!" Chaewon screams as she jumps in her seat.

"Ahhhh seriously," Eunchae whines while Chaewon throws a pillow at you.

You sit back down, trying to contain your laughter as the two girls glare at you. When they return their eyes to the screen, after about three seconds the movie plays a jumpscare, making both of them scream again.

"I really hate this," Chaewon cried, grabbing onto Eunchae's arm, while Eunchae was just laughing. "I don't want to watch this anymore."

"Oh come on it's not that bad," you say with a smile while Chaewon glares at you again.

Before she can say anything else to you, the front door clicks and the two girls let out their loudest scream of the night, but this time you screamed with them. The timing was pretty insane.

"I'M DONE!" Chaewon shouts, "I can't do this anymore."

Yunjin looks around the room confused as Chaewon stomps up the stairs, "what the..."

Eunchae falls over to her side, laughing at Chaewon's antics.

"Hello Yunjin," you greet the girl warmly before turning off the TV.

Forgetting all of the commotion just a second ago she happily walks over to you and starts opening the bag she was carrying, "hey! Look at this hat, isn't it so cool?"

"Ooooo that is very much your style," Eunchae remarks.

Sakura and Kazuha follow in behind Yunjin, both of them looking exhausted and each carrying multiple shopping bags in each hand.

You put the hat on and pose for the girls, "how do I look?"

"Ahh damn, I think it actually looks better on you," Yunjin mumbles as she sits down next to Eunchae who was still all giggly.

"So cute," Kazuha says, winking at you, as she walks past and heads towards her room.

Sakura falls down onto the couch and lets out a huge sigh.

"Long day?" you ask her.

"Yeah... I'm exhausted," she says before mustering up the strength to stand back up. "Could you help me carry these?"

You stand up and hand Yunjin the hat back as the two girls start looking through all the shopping, "goodnight girls."

"Goodnight!" Yunjin says while still combing through the bag.

"Thanks for tonight, I already feel better," Eunchae says while looking up at you before smirking, "have fun upstairs."

You pick up Sakura's bags and follow her to the room she shared with Kazuha who was nowhere to be found, probably in the bathroom.

"Thanks," she says as she enters the room. "Are you spending the night?"

"I'm not sure yet," you answer truthfully while putting the bags down.

Sakura turns around and smiles at you, "you should, Chaewon has been super stressed with the comeback so soon, I think she'd appreciate it." Sakura gives you a quick hug before falling backwards onto her bed, staring at the roof with her eyes closed.

"Goodnight Kkura."

You start walking through the hallway towards the stairs when you bump into Kazuha.

"Oh! Sorry!"

"Aish, were you looking for me," Kazuha says teasingly.

"I don't think I was?"

She puts her arms on your shoulders, standing right in front of you, "do you want to be looking for me?"

"I... what..." you stutter.

She takes her arms off your shoulders and walks past you, "goodnight!"

You stood there confused for a second as to what just happened when Kazuha called your name again. You turned around to face her, she was standing in the door frame with her shirt off.

"If you need a bed for tonight you are always welcome to have mine," Kazuha says before she closes the door, leaving you standing there confused.

Understanding Kazuha sometimes was still impossible, you think to yourself as you start walking towards the stairs. Luckily even though the group shared a house, it was pretty spacious. Sakura and Kazuha shared a room on the first floor, while the other three shared the second floor. Eunchae and Yunjin had one room, while Chaewon had her own room which provided a bit of much appreciated privacy.

You enter Chaewon’s room and hear her brushing her teeth in her bathroom while singing, so you decide to lay down on her bed. You looked around the room and saw Chaewon's clothes scattered across the floor, and the bed smelled surprisingly good as if it was sprayed with some perfume. Then it dawns on you that Chaewon was laying here naked waiting for you. Just as you get that vision in your mind, Chaewon walks out of the bathroom wearing her pajamas and sees you on the bed.

Chaewon slides into her bed next to you and wraps her arms around your body, "sorry that we didn't get to..."

You stroke her back, "it's alright, I'm happy to just spend time with you."

She rolls over so that she's on top of you, "what if we just bend the rule tonight?"

You place your hands on her butt and kiss her, "you know I want to."

She kisses you again. "I can be quiet."

You roll over so that Chaewon is now on the bed beneath you. "Yeah, but I like when you're not quiet," you say before kissing her forehead and getting off the bed. "Let's just save it for another time, out of respect for your members."

"They would understand," Chaewon pouts before sighing, "but fine, will you at least stay the night?"

"I thought you wanted to avoid doing that," you say with a smile. "What changed?"

"Well usually it's so that nothing happens, but we both agreed on that already."

You strip down to your underwear before getting back into the bed and under the covers. You're facing Chaewon, and you brush the hair out of her face, "love you."

She closes her eyes and whispers back, "love you, too."

#kpop smut #le sserafim #chaewon #sakura #yunjin #kazuha #eunchae #fluff

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justthoughts1310 · 2 months

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ATLA and Marvel have the same misogyny

So... I've finally made it to episode 8 of Netflix's Live Action ATLA.

This may be shocking for some of you, because I wrote a post about how Netflix ATLA is misogynistic a month ago, but now I'm back again.

I specifically want to talk about the absolutely ridiculous and bullshit feminist virtue signaling that we are habitually forced to endure.

The scene I am specifcally referring to is the scene in which Katara demands that Master Pakku let's her fight. Then all of a sudden, the camera pans to all of the healers in the Northern Water Tribe (the female water benders) who stand ready to fight.

Yet, despite their immense power, they are begging this old as man for permission, instead of just doing what needs to be done.

This scene is giving... stupid. It's giving the 999th Marvel movie that NOBODY freaking wanted... okay! Does anybody remember that scene from Avenger's End Game (of course you do), in which all of the female avengers assemble, and it's one female cameo after another? I have no idea who liked this scene, but I didn't. I HATED this scene! I thought it was tacky and cringe, and I didn't understand why I felt that way.

Then in the Marvels, there's this scene in which Captain Danvers gets knocked down, and then there's this sequence starting from when she was a little girl playing softball in which she gets knocked down and gets back up.

The whole thing is soooo cringe.

It's cringe because it's heavy handed. It feels like one of those inspirational quotes you put on your wall that says something stupid like "She believed she could so she did..." or "Shero" or "Herstory".

It feels like a moment in which the male writers were like, we got to make women feel seen, so let's stop the flow of the entire movie and series and whatever is going on and have this really stupid overproduced moment in which the women look like bad asses, before we hide the women back in the background and let the real heroes (the men) take over.

All of this despite the fact that in hindsight, of all of the avengers assembled there to fight Thanos that day (both male and female, alike), Scarlett Witch and Captain Marvel were the only one's canonically strong enough to stop Thanos. Yet, we can't have that, because a man needs to be the hero.

Like stop stealing women's W's. It happens all the time in shows like Naruto, in which the most powerful kunoichi will get caught up by the most stupid insignificant thing, so that a man can end up saving her and she becomes the damsel in distress.

The narrative of women can be strong but never as strong as men because men need to be the hero is weak and tired, tell a new story!!!

Especially, because it really isn't all that true anymore. After the industrial revolution and the boom of tech, women and men's physically strengths have become increasingly more similar for decades. Why, because very few people need to carry giant logs and chop down trees to survive anymore! You don't need to be swol to complete a spreadsheet.

I digress.

My point is what these scenes from ATLA and Marvel have in common. It's the reason why they are both cringe.

Men don't see women as women who are unique human beings with our own unique desires. Therefore, male writers force powerful female characters to embody male characteristics that appeal to men.

You know all that flexing and all the abs and the sweat and the thirst trap scenes of half naked men like Thor and Captain America (even the scene with Sokka in it). Do you think those scenes are for women? Well, they are not. They are for men. Men get hard-ons for these kinds of scenes, and these scenes are specifically created for men and the male gaze.

Then they try to extend this to female characters, to show that they are feminists. However, this completely ignores the female gaze and female motivation.

The scenes really are women quietly asking for permission (not really) and then men loudly given women permissions to stand out and be powerful, but only in a way that satisfies the male gaze. Which considering the fact that men are socially conditioned to like feminine or overly sexual women, I have no idea who these scenes appeal to!!!

Like bro... read a freaking book. Learn about history!!! Real history!!! Women do not need the permission of men to be powerful, intelligent, strong, tactful or ambitious. Women have already been all of these things since the dawn of time.

Therefore, women don't need weird cameos that break up the pacing of the story or scenes of little girls playing sports, getting knocked down, and getting back up to feel seen. Women and girls do not need to be convinced that we are powerful. We already know it. We've been working in the background for centuries while men have taken credit for our labors, efforts, and endeavors.

All we need is for men to get the hell out of our way! We can see it right now with education and employment. Ever since women were allowed to attend school, women have outperformed men in education is almost every subject (and men and women are at par with each other in Math and Science). Women are also out enrolling men in college 2:1.

So instead of giving women 5 minutes of permission to be powerful in movies and shows and embuing them with masculine characterists, write a compelling female character from the beginning of the show. Develop her character as a person, who has to deal with the unique intersectionality of being a woman. Don't make her whole personality being a woman.

And if you cannot, write a compelling female character, then get a woman to do it!

End Rant. Thank you for attending my TED Talk.

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

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Spellbound | Part 2

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Alexandria/Season 6-ish (non-Savior AU) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: slight SMUT (mostly just like groping and sexual language, as well as implied smut), mild language ❧ Word Count: 7.5k

❧ Summary: A year later, neither you nor Daryl can stop thinking about last Halloween, when the two of you first connected. This year, you're determined to try to get Daryl to officially come to your Halloween party, and Daryl is determined to make you his.

❧ A/N: Damn it's literally been a year since I posted the first part lol but here's part 2! I always intended to make a second part because there was so much sexual tension in the first one so I had to at least imply they have sex in the sequel... Also this is my first time writing in an AU where Negan and the Saviors just basically don't exist/don't have any contact with our group, so everything is pretty peaceful at this time! I definitely want to write more in a non-Savior AU because it's a lot easier to just imagine none of the Savior shit happened. And also it's what we deserve. Anyway, happy Halloween! I hope this gets you in the Halloween spirit lol.

A lot had changed in just a year, as was to be expected in the world you lived in.

For the most part, though, everything was all right within the little world of Alexandria, which was becoming not so little anymore.

People came and went, but the walls expanded, and a few new buildings popped up (well, not without the help of the entire community, of course). Life was as close to normal as it could be in this world, where the dead walked and the living feared them. The biggest change in Alexandria was that now people were fighting back, taking the world back from the walkers’ cold dead hands. That was thanks, in large part, to the arrival of Rick’s group, just a little over a year ago now.

Rick’s group marked a turning point in the history of Alexandria, and when Deanna died, the torch was passed to the group’s fearless leader. He ran the place well, not with an iron fist, but with a steady, outstretched hand that kept everyone secure, confident in his leadership.

By all accounts, Rick’s group coming to Alexandria last year was the best thing to happen in a long time. Most importantly, it felt safer. People were becoming fighters, defending the community from incoming herds throughout the year. And, of course, the walls were stronger now, reinforced with stronger steel beams. In every possible way, the town was secure.

But there was one thing that made you feel even more safe than any steel wall or trained militia—he was about five foot ten, with soft locks of wavy, albeit messy, brown hair, and a broad chest that connected to impossibly toned arms that flexed and bulged with every movement as he replaced the bolt in his crossbow, preparing another shot for you.

You bit your lip absentmindedly, watching him carefully as you tried to focus on his private lesson, but the man’s tendency to wear sleeveless shirts was always distracting, and you found that every lesson with him you’d had for the last month or so had been a little… unproductive.

He grunted as he pulled the string upwards, locking it tight. You’d been through the process several times, and yet you never stopped Daryl from explaining it to you over and over again, just for the chance to watch him do it.

“Now it’s locked in nice and tight,” he huffed, handing you the bow. “You’re ready to shoot.”

You cleared your throat, leveling the bow with your eyes. The thing was still much too heavy for you, though you really did try your hardest to hold it up as much as you could. Upper body strength wasn’t as easy for you as it was for your trainer.

Your hands were particularly shaky today, and maybe it was because you were nervous. Well, it was definitely because you were nervous—you were planning on asking Daryl to attend your third annual Halloween party.

This time, you hoped he’d actually show up, before the party ended.

“Quit shakin’,” he said, not with any harshness to his tone, but with the soft, gentle cadence of a supportive teacher. He was always such a good teacher, even if your attraction to him was a little distracting.

“S-sorry.”

He cleared his throat from somewhere behind you, while you tried to focus on the target, spray painted on the side of the tree several yards away.

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to recenter yourself before you shot, though the feeling of Daryl’s hands on you, one on your wrist and the other on your upper arm, stopped you from pulling the trigger.

Oh, God, you thought. He’s touching me again.

He’d done it before, trying to change your position or steady you like he was doing now, but you’d never get used to it. You should’ve known when he offered you private lessons that it would require him paying more… close attention to you, but you still always melted under his touch, becoming more pliable and bendable to his will.

“Just relax, girl,” he said quietly, and you swore you felt the breath of his words against your ear. “You’re all stiff. It ain’t ballet.”

His hands moved slowly, carefully, long your arm, painstakingly adjusting every bit of your hands, wrists, everything. Of course, he didn’t need to do that. Your position wasn’t that bad, but he liked it.

Oh, he really liked it.

When you first told him you were interested in learning to use the crossbow, he had a mind to offer you these lessons, just you and him, outside the walls. Not too far, just within range of Alexandria, but far enough to allow him more time with you.

Maybe it was obvious, but his feelings for you were strong, and hard to ignore. Ever since last Halloween, he’d thought about you in a more… intimate way. He always found you beautiful, but something about the way you looked in that witch costume was enchanting to him. He was half-convinced that you really did cast a spell on him that night, and that maybe you were a witch after all.

And so when he got the opportunity to touch you a little, he took it, and with every lesson, he became more brave.

“Don’t take your eye off the target,” he practically whispered. He himself didn’t follow his own rules, as his eyes trailed aimlessly up and down your arms, goosebumps forming on your exposed skin from the cool autumn breeze, or maybe it was from him.

When your arms began to lose strength and you lowered them just a little, he was quick to lift them back up, taking some of the weight from you as he held tighter to your wrist. He knew he shouldn’t do that, but he also couldn’t stand to leave you hanging, and he wanted you to get a bullseye. Maybe he was a shitty teacher in that regard, but he liked that smile and that laugh of yours, so if you shot well, he was sure he’d be rewarded with that.

Soon you felt his chest hard up against your shoulder, and the tips of his hair tickling your neck… That neck…

If he were a vampire, he’d be spoiled. He was in the perfect position to clamp down on it, not with his teeth, but with his lips. His hungry, starving mouth… A year of pining for you, sometimes getting very close to you only for his shyness to get in the way, made him ravenous, like a werewolf stalking the moonlit wood for his prey.

He was a beast for you, and that scared him, but most of all, it excited him. He wondered if you felt the same, or if his beastliness frightened you beyond excitement. That’s why he moved and spoke gently, not trying to be rough or harsh with you. A powerful sorceress such as yourself deserved that respect.

Still, it didn’t stop him from all but salivating at the sight of your sweet neck, straining with slightly exposed veins as you began to breathe heavily, panting in your anticipation.

His heartbeat raced, too, and you felt its steady, quick pace against your side. It thumped wildly, exciting you. Adrenaline tightened your aim and steadied your shaky arms.

“That’s it, good,” he said, letting go of you just a little bit, but keeping his body just where it was. He liked to share your warmth. “Pull it.”

With another deep sigh, you pulled the trigger, sending the newly sharpened bolt through the air. It didn’t hit the bullseye, but it was on the outer red ring of the target, and that was the best shot you’d gotten this far.

Your eyes widened as you turned to face Daryl, who shook his head in amusement. “Oh my god!” you laughed. “That was pretty good!”

“See, it ain’t so hard.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Robin Hood.” You turned to admire the bolt protruding on the edge of the target. “Thanks, Daryl.”

“Ain’t nothin’.”

“It’s everything.”

A flame sparked in each of his cheeks, and to prevent you from seeing, he walked past you to retrieve his bolt. His confidence seemed to swell for a moment, now that he wasn’t facing you. “So, uh… got any plans tomorrow?”

Is… is he asking me out? No, no way.

Considering you were hoping to ask him to attend your party, the sudden outburst threw you for a loop, and for a few moments, you stared wide-eyed at him.

Shit, he thought. I’m a dumbass.

“I mean,” he said, breaking the silence, “I know it’s Halloween, or whatever.” He cleared his throat, fiddling with the bolt in his hands as he avoided too direct eye contact. “Kinda felt bad, thinkin’ about last year.”

You tilted your head in genuine confusion. Why would he feel bad about that?

“Nothing to feel bad about,” you replied. “Why would you feel bad?”

“Well, ‘cause, ya know, I, uh, missed it.”

“But you showed up afterwards. That meant a lot to me.”

“I know, but…”

“No buts.” You trudged forward through the mud, caused by yesterday’s rainfall. When you got close enough to him, you ventured to hold his hand. Any other man, and you’d never want to touch him, but Daryl was different, and you rather liked touching him. He seemed to like touching you, too. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me. It makes up for last Halloween… But if you really wanna make up for it, you should come to this year’s party.”

He smirked, playfully swinging your arm as he held your hand in his. His eyes lifted to meet yours, and he couldn’t help but notice that little sparkle you had. It was subtle, but he noticed, just as he noticed every little detail about you—the gently sloped curves of your upper lip, the angelic contours of your face, the way your hair color shifted in different lights. Everything.

Others remarked that you were pretty, but for Daryl, that was an insult to the pure, otherworldly beauty you possessed, inside and out. Your kindness only made you more attractive to him, more utterly bewitched by you. It was in the way you never let anyone feel forgotten or alone, and he remembered that feeling from last Halloween night, and every night thereafter so far. You made an effort to make him feel welcome, despite his scruffy appearance and his sometimes aloof demeanor.

Something about you made him feel safe, too, free of judgment and presumption. Funny—he made you feel safe in a different way. Well, in every way.

“Yeah?” he asked, looking at your fingers curled around his hand. “You want me to come?”

“Of course I do. It starts tomorrow at dusk… What, are you busy? You got a big date with some girl I don’t know about?”

“No,” he replied quickly, and quite seriously. “Uh, I mean… nah.”

“Good,” you laughed, tugging his hand to lead him back towards the gate with you. “So, what costume are you going to wear?”

His silvery blue eyes widened adorably at that word “costume.” What the hell kind of costume would he wear? All he had in his closet were several black button up shirts with the sleeves lobbed off and a few pairs of tattered jeans. The fact that he was even considering wearing a costume just to impress you made him realize just how head over heels he was. And then you smiled so wide, biting your lip just a little as you looked at him, still holding his hand as you walked slowly, savoring the moment. Walking with his hand in yours was just too sweet of a feeling, you couldn’t possibly let it go.

“So?” you asked, and he shook his head to get out of his intrusive thoughts.

“I, uh… I don’t got a costume, (Y/N).”

He looked so cute, genuinely concerned you’d be upset with that not so surprising admission. You figured Daryl didn’t have any Halloween costumes. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to really care that much about dressing up.

“That’s okay,” you replied. “You don’t really have to dress up, I just thought I’d ask.”

“Well, uh… ain’t you gonna dress up?”

“Mhm.”

Oh, that intrigued him.

He had to admit, ever since seeing you in that costume last year, he hadn’t been able to get that image of you dressed as a witch from his mind. He memorized every detail of your corseted dress, how it sucked in your waist so delicately, and yet so wonderfully highlighted the curves of your body. Of course, he couldn’t help but pay special attention to your cleavage, that low cut collar revealing not too much of your supple breasts, but just enough that he could imagine the rest of you. The hem of the dress wasn’t particularly revealing of your legs, but the sliver of your skin he did see made him a little more excited than he liked to admit. Even that adorable pointed witch hat that sat askew on your head was attractive to him.

It wasn’t lost on him, either, that you had been so… committed to the witch role last year. He couldn’t forget the tone of your voice when you said, “Maybe I’m a real witch… You better watch out.” A simple joke, perhaps, and maybe you were still a little tipsy from the party, but he always wondered if you really did put a spell on him. Not that he believed in that kind of thing, of course, but it was kind of sexy to think about.

“You gonna be a witch again?” he asked, a little too overenthusiastically. “I mean, just wonderin’.”

“Yeah, I like my witch costume, and you can’t go wrong with a classic.”

He nodded, still loosely holding your hand. How was he to let go when it fit there so perfectly? Still, he’d be sure to let go once you got closer to the walls. He knew whoever was on watch would have some wise ass comment to make. Besides, this was friendly hand-holding, he assumed, even if he wanted it to mean something else.

“I like that costume,” he said. “S’perfect for ya.”

You giggled a little too loudly, then cleared your throat. Control yourself, whore, you thought.

“Thank you… I was thinking of cutting my dress so it’s a bit shorter, though.”

The sweat from his hand was getting to become much more noticeable, so he pulled it away, wiping it on his jeans as he swallowed hard, nodding nervously. “Y-yeah, yeah,” he stuttered. “Think that would look good. How, uh… how short?”

You sighed as you thought. “Oh, um… maybe up to here.” You reached down as you walked to gesture to your mid-thigh, and his eyes glued there a little too long, though you didn’t notice. “Or is that, I don’t know, ‘slutty’?” You gestured your hands to make air quotes.

“Nah,” he replied gruffly, yet in that good natured tone of his. “Not at all. ‘Sides, don’t matter anyway. Can dress however you want. Any guys give you trouble, though, I’ll be there to set ‘em straight.”

“Oh?”

Daryl’s protective side always made you weak at the knees. You could never forget that time he warded off some unwanted male attention during one of your training classes. Some guy named Alex had been staring at your behind throughout the session, and Daryl’s response was to call the man out in front of the entire rest of the class, saying, “Eyes on me, unless you wanna die.”

Of course, he could’ve been referring to the fact that not paying attention to Daryl’s instruction would get the man killed outside the walls, but Alex got the real implication behind the message, and he never attended another class.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’ll be there.”

You hardly got any sleep that night, both because you were busy baking three dozen Halloween cupcakes, and because that damn man had your heart all aflutter.

As far as you were concerned, Daryl was like the star athlete, the most popular boy in school, Alexandria’s most eligible bachelor. Now, perhaps for most women in town, that title would go to someone like the tall, conventionally handsome Spencer Monroe, but for you, there was only room in your heart for that dashing, mysterious, ruggedly handsome man called Daryl Dixon.

Other women did appreciate Daryl’s unique charms, too, but you prided yourself on being closer to him. He was intimidating, you could admit that. It was hard to break through that shell, and sometimes you were sure that you still hadn’t. Hours of talking, though, proved to be the best way to get to know him, and in a lot of ways, you felt that he was your best friend. Indeed, he felt the same way, and despite his aloofness, he found himself opening up to you more than he had anyone else in his life.

What you liked about Daryl was his loyalty, his undying devotion to Alexandria and the people within it. Rick cared about Alexandria, too, but Daryl? He would lay down his life for these people… For you.

So, yes—your infatuation with the quiet, dark haired marksman only grew with time. A year of his attentive, almost intimate, training had fed your attraction. Still, you hadn’t worked up the courage to do anything more than, say, innocently kiss his cheek when he dropped you off at your doorstep after nightfall, or “accidentally” fall asleep on his shoulder on long car rides to the Hilltop or the Kingdom or Oceanside.

Tonight… maybe something would happen tonight.

You were a firm believer in letting nature take its course, so that’s what you planned to do. You just hoped that Mother Nature was on your side.

Three hours before dusk, you were almost ready, except for your costume. As you had told Daryl you would do, you cut several inches off the hem of the dress, until it reached your mid thighs. The edges were jagged, but you supposed that matched the witchy look. As you tied your corset top, you were careful to… hoist up your breasts until they appeared to practically spill out of your dress, but isn’t that the best part of a corset, the way they make a woman’s chest look? Yes, most certainly yes.

A once expensive choker with a silver chain and several black opals sat not too tight, but not too loose, around the base of your neck. Your hair didn’t need much fixing, as the witch hat did most of the work. You dusted deep brownish red rouge on the apples of your cheeks, matching perfectly with the dark, purple tinted carmine shade coating your lips. The blur of mauve upon your eyelids, sprinkled with a smattering of iridescent glitter, made your eye color seem more vibrant, and your overall aura more… enchanting.

There wasn’t much time to admire your handiwork, as the first guests soon arrived. It was a large group, thank God, but no sign of Daryl, the guest of honor. Indeed, a part of you was already crushed, preparing for the worst. Self-preservation taught you to always be ready in case of rejection, and Daryl was not a man to be easily won, you thought.

About an hour into the night, your living room was a bonafide soirée. Guests poured in through the front door, now too many to receive a personal greeting from the hostess. You were swarmed with faces, all familiar, but still the face you longed to see most was not among them.

Music was a luxury, and Halloween was the one night of the year that the big speakers were hauled out from storage. Of course, they weren’t half as loud as they could be, but the ever-present threat of walkers outside the walls deterred anyone from turning up the music too much.

You’d found a Halloween mixtape not long ago, packed with the essentials—“Thriller,” “Monster Mash,” “(Don’t Fear) the Reaper”… It seemed to go well. Those overplayed hits were a welcome sound after living in a world where music was seldom a part of everyday life.

Two hours in, and no sign of Daryl. Granted, the party was still in full force, and showed no signs of stopping. Even with the overstimulation of the music and the purple and green lights adorning your home, you could still only think of one man. One broad-shouldered, gruff-voiced man.

“Have you seen Daryl?” you found yourself asking Glenn, both of you cornered as you watched the other partygoers. You figured he might know where Daryl was. After all, he was rather close to Daryl, too. “He said he’d be here.”

He shook his head as he took a sip from his red Solo cup. “No, but don’t worry. He offered a smile. Reassuring, but you couldn’t smile back. “He’ll come. You know how he is about parties.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. In the distance, you spotted Eugene awkwardly shuffling through the crowd, tripping over a few pairs of dancing feet. “I just hope he doesn’t feel—”

“Good evening, (Y/N).” Eugene’s southern accent cut through your sentence, catching you off guard. You blinked and assessed his person—he was dressed up as a cowboy, complete with boots, hat, and a bolo tie. “I trust you are in good spirits this Hallow’s Eve.”

“Hi, Eugene,” you said. “I love your costume.”

“It’s great,” added Glenn. “That tie is awesome.”

“Many thanks,” he replied, then lifted his bolo tie. “Procured this beauty from a ramshackle pawn shop a fortnight ago. The cord is no less than genuine braided leather, and these aiguillettes are really somethin’, they’re—”

“I’ll be right back,” interrupted Glenn. “I gotta find Maggie. Lost her in the crowd.”

Don’t leave me alone with him. “Okay, sounds good.”

“Anyway, as I was sayin’, the aiguillettes are, by my reckoning, sterling silver, with a millesimal fineness of nine twenty-five. Now, sterling silver is most often alloyed with copper, but I believe this silver was alloyed with the chemical element germanium to reduce tarnishing, to which sterling silver is prone.”

You nodded absentmindedly, with absolutely no interest in Eugene’s rambling. Usually, you tried to be more attentive, but your anxiety trumped any desire to seem alert.

“(Y/N)?” Eugene’s voice cut through your haze, and you wondered how much he had spoken before he got your attention again. “You all right?”

“Mhm, never better.”

Eugene smiled sheepishly, and nodded as he spoke. “Well, uh… pardon my abrupt inquiry, but I was itchin’ like a flea bite on a dog’s behind to ask you if you’d do me the honor of joining me in cuttin’ the proverbial rug, as it were.”

“You, um, want to dance?”

“Affirmative.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, not from flattery, but from the anticipation of turning him down. There was no way you were going to dance with Eugene, not tonight. Not when all you wanted was to see Daryl come through that front door you’d been so closely watching. You simply weren’t in the mood.

Still, you were going to have a hard time rejecting him. Eugene might’ve been a little verbose, but he was a sweetheart.

“Oh, well, I—”

Whatever song was being played in your crowded living room became muffled, drowned out by your now faster heartbeat swelling in your ears. Your knees seemed to weaken a little, practically giving out underneath you, but you caught yourself, keeping your composure as much as you could.

“Daryl…” you sighed dreamily, your eyes half-lidded and glued to the man’s broad, bulky frame as he stepped over the threshold. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his leather jacket, and he seemed to be a little lost as he looked around the room at a sea of heads bobbing like apples in a barrel of water, but if you could make him out right, you swore he looked beautiful.

“(Y/N)?”

You blinked rapidly, turning slightly back towards Eugene, though your eyes remained on Daryl. You couldn’t help it—you needed to keep track of him, make sure you didn’t lose him in the crowd. “Yeah?”

Eugene followed your gaze, though he didn’t see your target until that very target laid eyes on you.

Daryl was a hunter, after all. He knew how to find his prey.

You lifted your hand eagerly to wave to him, and his step moved faster, more confident now that he found you.

Eugene’s presence soon faded away from you, though he still stood beside you, petrified. Few things were as intimidating as Daryl Dixon on the prowl, and for the squeamish Eugene, he had always tried to steer clear of the famously hot headed archer.

And if Daryl’s passing disapproving glances at Eugene were anything to go, he needed to get away from you before he unwittingly made an enemy.

“I—I’m gonna fetch myself a refill,” he said, shakily holding up his cup to demonstrate. You nodded at his empty words, completely meaningless to you now, as he quickly turned himself around and hurried off to the kitchen.

By the time Daryl reached you, you were alone, smiling wide and holding out your arms to hug him. It caught him off guard for a moment, causing him to let out a brief grunt, but when you kissed his cheek, this time a little longer than you had done in the past, he melted in your arms.

“You made it,” you said, squeezing both his shoulders. “I almost thought you weren’t going to show up.”

His smile faded a little—he hates to keep you waiting. “Sorry, I…”

Got nervous and spent an hour tryin’ to figure out what to wear, he would’ve said if he felt like being particularly bold.

“Don’t be sorry,” you said. “You’re here now. That’s what matters to me.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

And that was true—he might not have liked parties that much, and Halloween more or less meant nothing to him, but seeing you in that costume, and being there knowing that his presence was important to you, that made all the difference.

The party went off without a hitch, going into the wee hours of the morning, long after it had ended last year. The only alone time you would get with Daryl came in the form of him helping you up the stairs, guiding you to the bathroom, as you were a little too tipsy to get there yourself. Well, you insisted that you could, but Daryl wasn’t convinced.

“I’m fine!” you laughed, being dragged up the stairs by Daryl.

“What if ya break your neck or somethin’?” he asked. “ Ain’t havin’ that.”

You smiled wide as he held the bathroom door open for you, then began pulling it closed. “I’ll be out here.”

“No, wait,” you said, holding the door open with your body weight. “Could, you, um… come in with me?”

He furrowed his brow, slightly amused at the sight of you pouting in your witch hat and getup. “Why?”

Oh, you thought. I hadn’t thought of that.

In all honesty, you hadn’t thought it through at all. Perhaps your slightly inebriated mind just wanted to be absorbed in Daryl’s presence for as long as you could. After all, you were clinging to each other’s sides all night since he arrived, why not? And maybe, just maybe, you wanted a true, private moment with him. Maybe nature would take its course this time.

“I—I… What if I fall off the toilet?”

He shook his head and laughed under his breath. “So ya don’t need my help up the stairs but ya need my help goin’ to the bathroom?”

You realized how stupid it sounded then, and quickly shook your head to try to will the situation away. “Never mind,” you said. “Sorry, that was weird.”

With your hand guiding the door closed, he held it open. His face was more serious now, and yet still a bit shy. “I’ll come in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t want ya fallin’ off the toilet.”

You didn’t fall off the toilet.

He kept his back turned, shuffling his feet and fiddling with his fingers as he averted his eyes from you as you relieved yourself. When the sound stopped, he asked, “Are ya decent?”

“Mhm.” You stood shakily, turning to flush the toilet. Daryl turned, too, eyes widened to realize that your dress was covering you completely, but your panties were pooled around your ankles. “Uh, (Y/N)?”

“Hm?”

He pointed to your feet. “Your, uh…”

Following his pointed finger, you laughed loudly as a blush formed across your nose and cheeks. “Oh, God. Sorry.”

He’d be lying if he didn’t take the opportunity, short-lived as it was, to study your underwear, as he’d sometimes imagined what kind you wore. Tonight it was different than usual, intended to match your costume—black with a floral lace print. Simple, but enough to cause a dizziness in his head.

As you bent down to pull them back up, he caught a glimpse of your cleavage, just barely spilling out of your corset dress. He internally begged you to straighten up, but you took your time, adjusting your boots, too.

When you finally stood back up, you sighed and crossed over to the sink to begin washing your hands. Daryl looked on, keeping an eye on you, just in case you fell, or something (though he doubted that would happen).

“Hey,” you said, soaking your hands under the water, “we haven’t had a moment alone yet. I mean, it’s nice. We can talk.”

He leaned against the bathroom door, chewing on his bottom lip. “Talk about what?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know… Just talk. About anything.”

Maybe now you were going against your own philosophy. Maybe your desire for him was preventing Mother Nature from doing her job, but you couldn’t help it. He looked lovely tonight, with a particular glow about him. He dressed much in the same way he always did, but his hair fell in the most beautiful way, and his lips were somehow shiny in the reflection of the twinkly lights (little did you know he’d been constantly licking his lips that night out of nervous habit).

Most of all, he made the effort to set his dislike of parties aside to be with you. Well, you hoped that, maybe, he wanted to be with you. After all, there wasn’t much else Daryl did that night except hang around you.

“Well, uh… Thanks for invitin’ me,” he finally said, after several moments of chewing his lip and not knowing how to speak without accidentally spilling every last intrusive thought he had about you. “I’ve been havin’ a good time.”

Just Daryl saying that he was enjoying the party was enough to nearly bring a tear to your eye. He was so sweet without even trying. Some men put on a facade, not Daryl—he was sweet through and through.

“Me too,” you said, now wiping your hands on the towel. “I wasn’t really having a good time until you showed up, to be honest.”

“Really?”

“Mhm… Actually, I was sort of just waiting for you.”

He scoffed at the thought, though it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “Waitin’? For me? Why would you wait for me, girl? I ain’t gonna make or break your party.”

Lifting yourself to sit atop the bathroom counter, you peeled off your hat, revealing the frizzy top of your head. You quickly reached up to fix it, but Daryl rather liked it slightly messy. He wondered just how messy it could get.

“Well, you just mean a lot to me, Daryl. That’s all.” It wasn’t all. It was a whole lot more than that. “Halloween doesn’t even matter that much to me these days. I think… maybe since last year, when you came over after the party, I was looking forward to tonight, just to see you again.”

“You see me almost everyday.”

“Yeah, but… That night felt different to me, you know? Kind of just wanted it to feel that way again. And it does. So I’m happy.”

Despite your words, you frowned and hung your head, hands folded in your lap. You weren’t sure where the sudden wave of sadness came from. Maybe it was your fear of rejection showing its ugly head again, but when Daryl stepped forward, taking your hand in his, you looked up at him, standing before you with that beautiful little smile on his face.

It wasn’t a big smile. It was close-mouthed and crooked, but it was beautiful to you. It meant the entire world to you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Why d’ya look so sad? Thought you were happy.”

“I am happy, it’s just… I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

He shifted closer to you, holding your other hand now, too. His thumbs busied themselves with brushing the outsides of your hands, almost massaging them. The skin was soft, warm, and smooth. He was almost afraid of marring your beautiful flesh with his calloused fingers, but at least it would be some way of leaving his mark on you.

“Ain’t nothin’ you could ever think or say would be stupid to me,” he said. “You can tell me anythin’, just so long as I get to hear your voice.”

Well, how were you not going to tell him now?

Besides, it was hard to resist those eyes of his, deep set and somehow a subtle, intense blue. How could his eyes be so soft, and yet so penetrating? Everything about Daryl was an enigma to you, and yet you still felt you understood him so well, all his little quirks and idiosyncrasies, all his beautiful ways of speaking and feeling and being. Sometimes, you ventured to think you knew him better than anyone else, and maybe that was because he showed you a different side to him he rarely showed to anyone else, even to Rick or Carol. What he showed you was his heart, and though you couldn’t yet be sure if he would give you his heart, you hoped he’d at least consider it.

“You… like hearing my voice?” Of course, you were stuck on that line.

He swallowed hard. Shit, did I say that out loud? No avoiding it now.

“Yeah. I do. A lot.”

Funny. You liked hearing his voice too, so much so that you tried to memorize it as best you could, in case you needed to hear it just to get through the day.

Your wide smile betrayed your flattered state, and he continued to speak, emboldened by your apparent appreciation.

“Still think you’re a real witch or somethin’.” He took your pointy hat and firmly, yet delicately, placed it back on your head, to which you let out a giggle. He was sure to prop up the brim, ensuring the beauty of your face was on full display.

The glimmer of your eyeshadow was intoxicating to him, and though he didn’t know the first thing about makeup, the way those colors blended together on your face was nothing short of magical.

“Why?” you asked.

You hadn’t even noticed until you felt his thigh brush against yours, but his body was positioned right between your legs now, and the heat of him was radiating beneath your dress. You’d never felt him like this before, not between your legs. It caused you to bite your lip until you felt the skin just begin to break.

“‘Cause ya put some kinda spell on me.”

He spoke so seriously that you couldn’t tell if he was joking, but he definitely wasn’t. “Oh…” You cleared your throat, fully intending to assume the role of the witch. “Yes, yes, I did. I performed a love spell at my altar with a lock of your hair.” You let go of one of his hands to curl a strand of brown, wavy hair around your finger. Your perfume wafted around his nose, allowing the sweet scent of patchouli and rose to linger there. He moved closer to smell more of it, until his crotch was fully pressed against yours, and there was no doubt about it—he felt lovely there. “I like to dance naked in the moonlight, too. Is that what you think of me, Daryl?”

His eyes trailed up and down your body, getting lost in the low-cut bodice of your dress. Noticing his infatuation, you pressed your chest to his. Being this close to him was enough to raise goosebumps all over your skin, even under your long sleeves. How could you feel so warm, and yet so cold?

“Nah,” he replied, though he had to admit, now that you mentioned it, he was imagining you wildly flailing your limbs as you danced under the cool white light of the moon, with your nude breasts beating together and your thighs spreading apart to jump over the fire around which you danced…

Perhaps he’d find you like that, after many long hours on his hunt. You’d hold your hand out to him, inviting him to rid himself of his filthy clothes and move his weary body with yours until you both fell clumsily, yet somehow intentionally, to the ground, writhing underneath each other until he found his way on top of you, or maybe you found your way on top of him, riding him into the night like a witch on her broomstick.

Little would he know that you had called him there, using your sorcery to guide him exactly where you wanted him. And now, you had him exactly where you wanted him, for real.

“Don’t worry, I’m a good witch,” you said, tightening your legs around him. He wasn’t going anywhere now, not when he dared to look at you like that—like he was about to devour you. The veins protruding in his thick neck made him look as though he was about to turn into some kind of wild beast, driven by primal instincts. “I promise… But I could be a bad witch, too… If you want.”

His hands had somehow found your hips, gripping them tight as his resolve began to crumble. How was he going to resist you now? He couldn’t, he simply couldn’t. Not that he wanted to, anyway.

“That depends,” he said, his voice somehow soft and quiet, but gruff and demanding. “What does a bad witch do?”

He tried not to think, to shut off his brain for a moment while he was between your legs. If he thought too much now, his shyness would take over, and he’d ruin this moment he’d dreamed of for so long.

“Lots of things,” you laughed. “Let me show you.” Your hands were practically tugging at his broad, firm shoulders now. The muscles underneath were so tense, so rigid and begging to be caressed, so you did, gently kneading them until they became just a little more loose.

He let you pull him further until his forehead rested against yours, and he was already groaning under his breath, desperate to taste your mouth.

You moved slowly, though, a little too slow for him at this moment, and he couldn’t keep himself from grabbing your hips more roughly now, until your arms had no choice but to flail around his neck and your lips crashed against his.

Your whimper of surprised bliss was devoured by his mouth, just as your tongue felt his swirling around it, extending deep into your mouth until you swore there was more of his saliva in you than your own.

In his insatiable lust, he gripped your thighs to spread them further, allowing more of him to get between your legs. Soon the skirt of your dress was completely hoisted up, allowing him to once again see your panties, and in the see-through spaces of the lacy pattern, he caught a peek of your hair, and your slit, and he couldn’t even stop his own hand from reaching there, cupping your mound so hard that you squirmed and yelped into his mouth. The pressure of his palm was so perfect on your clit, and not even the muffled sound of the loud music booming downstairs could distract you from that intense, shivering feeling.

“Oh!” you yelped, your lips now separated from Daryl as you threw back your head. “Daryl!”

Your exposed neck was calling to him, those muscles flexing and veins protruding as you tried to keep your voice down. He could tell how much blood was rushing to your head, and the vampire in him compelled him to latch his lips to your supple neck. He didn’t dare bite you too hard, but his teeth nearly broke the skin.

“Ah!” you cried out, your fingernails etching shapes into his leather-clad back. “Oh…”

Your moans began to shiver the tighter he held onto you, as his mouth left marks wherever it could, with the hope they would last long enough to prove who you belonged to.

You’d never known Daryl like this, so passionate. It was another side to him, and you quite liked it. “Daryl… I…”

He let out a deep, animalistic grunt as he pulled his lips away, only to crash them back down on yours. He tasted the wine on your tongue, though he was already drunk just off your taste alone.

His hand rubbed up and down the outside of your panties until he could feel the pooling of your arousal underneath. It made him harder, just knowing that your body was preparing itself for him.

His fingers clumsily tugged at the crotch of your panties, urgently trying to get to your entrance. “Wait,” you panted against his lips, holding his hand steady. You closed your eyes and leaned against his forehead. “Daryl…”

Breathless, he softly kissed your lips once more. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are ya scared?”

In truth, you were, just a little. This new side of him was thrilling, and you loved it, but there was no way you could continue in good conscience, not while there were guests still downstairs.

You smiled and bit his lip, pulling it towards you until you let it go. “A little.” Your hands retreated to his strong, broad chest, rubbing up and down the smooth leather of his vest. “I’ve never seen you like that before. You turned into a beast.”

He scoffed, but his cheeks became deeply blushed. “Ya do things to me.”

As you let his hand return to your crotch, his fingers drew slow circles over the wetness. “You do things to me, too,” you said. “And I’m not really scared, Daryl, it’s just… my party. I’d feel more comfortable if we were completely alone.”

He nodded in agreement. He had to admit that this wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to make love to you for the first time. “What about when they all leave?” he asked. “I can… stay and help ya clean up, like last time.”

His hand moved a little faster, now concentrated on your clit, and you squirmed in his arms with a long, blissful sigh. “Can you wait that long?” you asked, though you were honestly asking yourself that same question.

“I’d wait forever for you.”

With another kiss, you left the restroom first, fixing your askew witch hat and heading downstairs as if nothing happened. Daryl stayed in the bathroom, adjusting himself. He had half a mind to relieve himself completely, but he wanted to save whatever he had in him for you.

It took great self-discipline not to shut down the music and begin ushering everyone out of your house, but you were sure to be a good hostess, as you always were. When the last few people left, you didn’t even hear Daryl’s footsteps come up behind you. He moved like a hunter. After all, he was one, and you were his prey.

He lifted the brim of your hat to throw it somewhere behind him. With his lips latched to your neck again, you smiled and leaned back into his touch.

“You still gotta work some of your magic on me,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“I thought we were going to clean?” you giggled, feeling him pull you backwards towards the stairs.

He grunted as he turned you around, hoisting you up by the back of your knees. You were slightly terrified he’d drop you, but Daryl’s arms were so strong. So very, very strong.

“Nah,” he said, carrying you up the steps. “We’re gonna make a mess.”

Indeed, no cleaning was done that night.

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