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#because he thinks you deserve nothing less than the best
harmonysanreads · 2 days
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Playing Dress Up
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ft. Sunday, Aventurine, Dr Ratio, Blade
Heads up: Female!Reader, Possessive Behaviors, Very Self Indulgent
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-; ੈ♡˳ SUNDAY
Sunday seeks refinement in every aspect of his life, this does not fail to extend to how you'll dress yourself while tied to his prestige as well. Sifting and digging through uncountable articles on women's fashion, extensive research on sources to make his vision come to life — Sunday hadn't even put this much effort into drafting his own style. What beget this initiative is rooted in his innate desire to make your connection to him clear through means sans saying it outright, though he'd much rather present it as his attempt in searching for a style that is uniquely yours ; which he does wish for to a degree, not to fret.
Your clothing will be weaved from scratch with the finest threads, silk and satin will be cut, folded and stitched to perfection. Even the measurements of your clothing will be penned down by the man himself : skirts must be of moderate length, not too long or too short and necklines must be modest. Said attires will be painted in shades of white, blue and gold ; his colors in short. But anything under these graceful dresses will be sleek black, a secret that'll never meet the public eye. The motifs of his halo will be skillfully engraved on the canvas that is you ; woven on the dresses, tempered in jewelry to adorn your hair and ears and not even your shoes will be spared.
The principle Sunday follows throughout this charade is complexity through simplicity. While one might think you'd look much like an over-groomed poodle after this, the gentle elegance of the reality will surprise even you. That is because Sunday practices caution in areas that are easy to complicate, jewelry for example. He's partial to earrings, bracelets, brooches and hair ornaments — not necklaces as he prefers the unobstructed beauty of your decolletage. Even those few ornaments are not gaudy in design, selected exclusively to accompany than to steal the stage. But the stones, diamonds and pearls he orders to be embedded in them are far precious than they initially suggest. After all, you deserve nothing but the best.
Most of Sunday's struggle was concentrated in the makeup area, for which, he had before anything else, scheduled an appointment with a dermatologist. Only when he had a detailed report on what products would suit your skin and what would harm you did he place the orders. Sunday thinks this endeavor to be much like conducting an orchestra : not all will understand why the conductor standing on the podium spins and twirls the baton, but when the tunes from the instruments unite and bring the melodies to life, it all makes sense.
-; ੈ♡˳ AVENTURINE
Aventurine has no patience for subtlety and employs bold tactics to get his message across. Should someone be naive enough to interrogate the man himself in his extravagant displays, he'll be unflinching in his reasoning as well. No amount of zeroes attached to the price tags or repeated cursory glances from passerbys will deter him in his shopping spree and should you complain about the mounting amount of bags — well, he has two perfectly functioning arms and adjacent shoulders sparkling in their vacancy, doesn't he? Your job is to just point out what catches your eyes, sweetheart.
The Stoneheart has discovered a sweet spot for matching since you entered his life ; which will materialize in earrings, bracelets, rings, hats, sunglasses, coats, chokers and the list goes on. Even though he gives you fair chances in choosing your attire, he'll not so discreetly sneak in pieces that'll reek of him. In occasions where this charade gets spectated by more than two pairs of eyes, Aventurine is less teasing and more edified in his intentions. Blue, pink and emerald coating fabrics that expose more than they cover will mock wanton eyes and they'll say loud and clear — this will never be yours.
Aventurine's favorite part has to be picking the perfumes for you. If you already have preferences, he'll scout the finest brand of that fragrance and make sure no other being in the expanding universe will be able to acquire it from then onwards. It just so happens that he also sees the importance of securing something that is uniquely you. If you're indecisive about perfumes, then even better! You can be doused in the fragrances he indulges in, keep no doubt that they'll be tasteful.
All this glamour might give the impression that Aventurine never allows you or himself to ever be stripped of the fanciful, glimmering and glittering layers oozing with the repute of uncountable credits. However, you were pleasantly surprised to find his lax attitude concerning your nightwear. You did not see any flickers of that ravenous flame concealed beneath enigmatic smiles even if you wore something bruised and tattered by time or, if you stole something from his wardrobe upon a random urge. Perhaps in moments overlooked by the light of distant stars, he treasures above all the sight of you in your most natural state, and wishes he could indulge in the same vulnerability as well.
-; ੈ♡˳ DR RATIO
The prodigious Veritas Ratio loves watching you get dressed, although there's a scarce chance of him openly admitting to his shameless ogling. Ironically, his genius receives negative marks when he tries to search for a rational reason as to why he continues regardless of your teasing — which, just so happen to never have sufficient burn to deter him for good. There's an odd sense of peace in spectating you building your look, in the movements of various tools and scattered, dexterous hand gestures. To him, it's almost synonymous to sculpting ; shaping something unremarkable to a display of skill and artistry.
Ratio thinks studious scholar should never limit their perspectives, which is why he tries to broaden his agenda with new experiences constantly — or at least, that's the excuse he ultimately settles on. He's yet to tell you of this, but he's certain he's acquired quite the quantity of knowledge on makeup from his observations. He knows the difference between foundations and concealers, in which order the cosmetics are applied and has a decent understanding about shades and highlights. It's safe to say, you can rely on him on this matter should there ever arise such an occasion.
When it comes to clothing, Ratio appears to be quite indecisive, form fitting or loose, he has no issues. The area where he is particularly strict, is hygiene. Which means no missed baths, or any half-hearted showers. After he's found himself comfortable in your presence, he'll take personal initiative to make sure your baths are never boring. Fragrant body washes, essential oils, exquisite rose water, bath bombs, shampoos — he has it all covered. Another astounding discovery for the scholar was that he adores taking care of your hair, in particular. He always takes extra caution when washing it, buys smoother combs so that it might not get damaged and occasionally tries different hairstyles — though he's not very skilled at it. But learning has never been an effortless process to begin with, he's sure he'll be able to decorate your hair the way he desires properly one day.
-; ੈ♡˳ BLADE
Blade seldom comments on your choice of attire, but it doesn't mean that he never thinks about it. He prefers to dismiss most of those bubbling thoughts, for what does a weapon understand of fashion senses and trends? What he does offer you instead are drawling stares tiptoeing before the line of glares. Insufficient time knowing the enigmatic Stellaron Hunter will prove your inefficiency in understanding his brooding gazes. Should you directly ask his opinion on a certain outfit, it'll not earn you more than a grunt or a hum. But coming from Blade, that would be considered a lot.
In truth, Blade finds himself bewildered before the feelings you stir within him through the most mundane actions. He was certain that wanton emotions, urges and his humanity were devoured by the curse. For centuries, he wandered without a definitive purpose, stewing in the rage and hatred bubbling from his fate. Above all, he did not think himself human. So when you, in all your bright and humane light dug through the battered cage of his ribs and made yourself its soul resident, tugging him closer closer closer towards that tunnel's end through seemingly meaningless antics — Blade was lost.
It made him afraid sometimes, for the unreachable end that he always clawed towards seemed to lose its appeal before you. When he realized one day that he liked lighter colors on you, that he enjoyed watching you practice a hairstyle for hours, that he loved how your lips shimmer after a swipe of lip gloss, that he'd not trade the matching tassels you gifted him on a whim for the universe — the appalling realization that living is just a tiny bit more bearable with you around crashed on his beliefs and destroyed him beyond repair. Which is why, for the longest time, he didn't know how to respond to any of your gestures ; far too occupied with processing whether its the talons of mara digging into his sanity or just plain pleasant emotions.
Blade is often irresolute when you ask for his opinion on your clothing, not because he has not the faintest idea of what is considered appealing but because, you just look good in everything in his eyes. There's a particular garment though, form fitting Qipao with cheeky side slits that had him run the first time you wore it. Only after Kafka's reassurance that no, it isn't his mara was he able to gather the courage to approach you again. In conclusion, be prepared for every possible outcome when you're dolling yourself up for Blade.
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cynicalmusings · 2 years
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Oh? Feel free to share the ideas you have on Cyno lore! I'd love to hear it. :D
You are quite welcome! :>
-🍣
OK OK so. basically.
the ideas i have so far are quite vague, but roughly go like this:
i’m slightly tempted to make it a sort of reincarnation au: so like, some time ago (probably, like, a few centuries, if not much longer), cyno was some mage who lived in a forest with his partner (sort-of you), and then one day some accident or attack happened which resulted in your death. distraught, cyno went to beg the gods to give you back, but they refused: your time had come, and that was that.
unable to accept this, he started delving into the dark arts, looking over old rituals and forbidden spells hidden from the gods’ gaze. basically, he was trying to drag your spirit back from the veil. the more he practiced these arts, the more powerful he became, until he caught the gods’ attention again. they warned him to stop— he was meddling with affairs that no mortal should have access to and playing with the power of a god for selfish reasons— but he refused, claiming that he would find a way to bring you back or die trying.
his practices started taking an effect on him, though: he grew addicted to this magic, and more and more intent on bringing you back until he didn’t care about the consequences and harm he let loose on the earth and people around him. he pulled stars down from the sky, harnessed the power of evil spirits— taking more than he gave, and taking things a human never should.
saying that enough was enough, the gods stripped him of his powers, leaving his abilities a mere fraction of what they once were, and banished him to a starless realm to serve as his eternal prison. they bound him to the area with a silver chime to be worn around his ankle— a shackle that prevented him from leaving, containing the dying songs of the stars he so mercilessly brought down. to tackle the dark corners of the woods, they also gave him an empty lantern. the catch was that he could only ever fill this lantern with the soul of star, which was a rare find to come by in the forest of his imprisonment.
they took his heart away, too: by that point a black, wretched thing, bent on and twisted by its singular desire to bring you back to his side. his one goal ripped from him, he lost his passion, doomed to walk an aimless path through a never ending loneliness. for a man with no heart could not love, and therefore could not be loved in turn.
and as a final punishment— almost a taunt— they told him that all his effort would not go to vain. you would return one day, but you would not remember him, and he would have to watch as you lived a happy life without him while he himself was still bound to the woods: a place where no wise soul would enter.
however, the gods had not expected you to stumble in yourself that one fateful day. and because the starless lands were a place that not even the gods could interfere with, they had no way of stopping you.
and when he saw you, there was nothing they could do to stop him from falling in love with you all over again; and you with him.
…yeah, you know when i said i only had a vague idea? i might have lied.
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iholdwhatican · 16 days
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reunions
pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig
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length: 3.8k
tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; surprise visit from patrick ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension
summary: you want to make your husband's birthday special, so you invite his attractive, charming, estranged childhood best friend in the hopes that they'll make amends. surely nothing will go wrong, right?
author's note: i can't stop thinking about them i am so ill. this is the first of presumably many challengers works. and yes i did make a new blog just for this, don't judge me. this is a drabble that was stuck in my head but I do have more for it should it be wanted! preferably something that leaves you sandwiched in between them :3
originally posted by iholdwhatican
You told yourself this whole thing happened out of the goodness of your heart. You’d just wanted to be a good wife and make your husband’s birthday the best it could possibly be. Because Art Donaldson was the most amazing person you’d ever known, and he loved you, and he deserved the world. There was nothing off limits when it came to him, no line you wouldn’t cross. 
You knew how much Patrick had meant to him, how much he missed his best friend. Your cheeks hurt from how wide the stories made you smile, how happy he sounded when he recounted the things he’d gotten into with the eccentric tennis player. And you knew how sad Art was that they didn’t talk anymore. 
So what better time to remedy that than for his birthday? That was a wonderful surprise, right? Right?
Upon meeting Patrick Zweig, your first thought was how the hell this man got along so well with your Art. Not to say he was a bad person, but he was just so… much. He was cocky, indomitable, the kind of person that knew what he wanted and what he was worth and wouldn’t settle for anything less. He was a force not to be reckoned with, no matter what. He was also unbelievably charming (and not bad on the eyes, which you would never admit), and you hated the way his sweet-talking got under your skin. 
He asked you how Art was. You told him he was fine. Retired, now. Making the most of a quiet life. You’d just celebrated 3 years of married life. He asked to see wedding photos and you didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes at missing the event. You happily obliged. It was the most romantic day of your life, after all. 
And you couldn’t help but internally pat yourself on the back. Patrick missed him too. You could mend the broken bridge between them, and your husband would be thrilled. He’d reward you for your good work. 
You asked Patrick to come to Art’s party. To make contact again. To come back into his world. He only hesitated for a moment, asked if Art knew and was okay with it. 
The lie slipped off your tongue easily. Of course, he’s wanted this for a long time. It’s a surprise, but a most welcome one. You didn’t have details on what happened between them- only knew of a falling out while Art was in college- but it couldn’t be that bad. Anything could be overcome, right? 
Patrick accepted and you hoped the lump in your throat was from excitement and not dread. You thanked him for meeting you, told him you’d forward him the details, and went back to your husband. 
The day of the party came, and you were so nervous you could hardly take it. You’d spent the last couple of days working yourself into a frenzy, convinced that this reunion was a terrible idea and your husband would hate you. You had no right to bring an estranged friend back into his life, on his birthday no less. And without saying a word to him. 
God, what the hell was wrong with you? 
You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and downed your third glass of water. It did nothing to soothe the dryness in your throat. Or the pounding of your heart. You wondered how fucked you’d be at the party if you took a Xanax right now. Or five. 
Just then, Art peeked his head into the kitchen, donning a sweet smile when he spotted you. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting a well-fitting polo shirt and khakis. His hair was growing out again, starting to show those boyish curls you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He made his way over to you, wedding band sparkling on his finger, and your heart melted. 
You loved him so much. Had you ruined his birthday with your stupid meddling? Maybe even ruined your marriage? 
“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted, sliding a hand around your waist and kissing your head. It was a familiar gesture, a normal one. He loved touching you, keeping you close. You loved it just as much, “The cake was just delivered. You went way overboard, as usual.” 
You pretended you weren’t overcome with dread and cupped his cheek, “Shut up. There’s no such thing as overboard. You deserve this, okay? You deserve to be celebrated.” 
Please, please don’t be mad at me for inviting him. For bringing him into our world. Please still love me. I did it for you. I’d do anything for you.
His eyes crinkled as he smiled- in that perfect way you adored so much. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time on your lips. It was gentle and caring and everything you were to each other. It made you want to cry. Art was everything. All you wanted was to give him the same. 
The doorbell rang, breaking you two out of the moment, and your husband pulled away. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Well,” He spoke, looking at you like there was nothing else in the world, “That must be our first guest.” 
You hummed happily, “Guess it’s time to celebrate you, Birthday Boy. Shall we?” 
“We shall.” He teased, doing a mock bow as he offered you his hand. You took it, laughing, and the two of you made your way to the front door. 
You took a deep breath and tried not to focus on the unhappy way your stomach was churning. 
The first hour of the party went by with a pleasant lack of reunions-turned-altercations. Patrick had yet to show his face, and you wondered if he might not come at all. Part of you was relieved at the idea, while the other couldn’t help but be frustrated. 
He said he would come. What if the surprise didn’t end up being a bad thing? How would you know if he never showed? 
God, you needed a cigarette. 
You’d spent the entirety of the party so far glued to Art’s side, being his doting wife as you made conversation with everyone. Your eyes continued to stray to the door, looking for a certain dark-haired man. Every single time, you were disappointed. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised. From what you’d heard, Patrick wasn’t really someone who could be counted on a lot. 
Maybe this whole thing was just a big mistake. And maybe the part of you that truly felt let down at not getting to see him again was something you should never, never look into. 
You patted Art’s chest and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I’m gonna check on the food. I’ll be back.” 
He nodded, smiled, and pressed a kiss to your temple. His arm released its grip on you and he continued his conversation with an old Stanford buddy without missing a beat. He was fucking incredible. At everything. You were crazy about him. 
The food didn’t actually need to be checked on. The caterer was high-quality, and they knew better than to fuck up one of your events for your husband. You had full trust in them- you honestly just needed a breather. This whole night had felt like a cold fist clenched around your heart. 
Instead, you grabbed yourself a large glass of wine and made your way to the patio to enjoy some cool night air. 
The area was blessedly empty, allowing you to slip out of the hostess facade. You were more than happy to do it, especially when celebrating Art, but the circumstances tonight were making it much harder than usual. Which was, of course, entirely your own fault. Way to go, you! Knocked it out of the park tonight, didn’t you? 
You sighed, leaned against the railing, and took a long gulp of your drink. The weather was slightly chilly, and it felt amazing against your heated skin. Already, you were finding it easier to breathe. And think, for that matter. 
“Shouldn’t you be at the party, Mrs. Donaldson?” A familiar, spine-tingling voice spoke, breaking you out of your peaceful moment. 
You whirled around, eyes landing on Patrick fucking Zweig leaning against the wall of your house. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, his hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. They went well with the button-up shirt he wore, a stark contrast from the shorts and hoodie he’d had on when you first met. He looked good- really good. Enough to make a pit grow in your stomach. 
“I thought you weren’t coming.” You blurted out, thankful that the darkness was shrouding your red face. His face was just barely illuminated by the orange glow of the cigarette, and you watched as he looked you up and down, “Also, how’d you get back here? I didn’t see you walk into the house.” 
Patrick kicked off the wall and walked over to you, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. His curls fell over his forehead, and you found yourself fighting the urge to brush them out of the way- the same way you always did to Art. You swallowed deeply. What the hell was wrong with you? 
“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?” He responded matter-of-factly, blowing a puff of smoke into the air. The smell made you nostalgic. You and Art had made a pact years ago to quit together, but God did you miss it sometimes. You licked your lips and tried (and failed) not to stare, “I snuck in through the back. Thought it’d be less messy that way.” 
You had no idea how he’d been able to get back here, but you decided you weren’t gonna ask. It didn’t matter in the long run, anyway. Besides, he was probably right. You had no idea how Art was gonna react, and it was smart to have it happen in an isolated area. 
“Probably smart.” You muttered, taking another swig of the wine. The feeling of his eyes stayed on you, burning into your skin, but you didn’t meet his gaze. You didn’t want to think too hard on why. 
“He doesn’t know you reached out to me.” It wasn’t a question, but you responded to Patrick’s words regardless. He’d find out eventually. 
“No.” The admittance came out with a heavy breath, like you were releasing the weight that had been on you all night. In a way, you were. You ran a hand over your forehead, “I don’t know what happened between you two, he doesn’t talk about it. But I just- I’m terrified he’ll hate me for bringing you.” 
Why the hell were you pouring your heart out to this stranger? What was it about him that drew you in so much and made you want to bring down your walls? How was this charming man already under your skin from one damn meeting? And how the fuck were you supposed to explain any of this to your husband, his estranged best friend? 
You needed another drink. Or ten. 
“You really love him.” Again, not a question. But you answered. You had to. 
“More than anything else in this world.” 
Patrick offered you his half-smoked cigarette and you took it without thinking. The sting of the smoke in your lungs was like coming home. It was so good it almost made you cry. But lots of things made you want to cry right now. You could taste mint on the cigarette, like he’d been chewing gum before lighting up. The same kind Art always chewed. 
It made something flip in your stomach. 
“Well, from what I can tell, you’re pretty great. Super caring, based on how far you went in an attempt to make him happy. Shit, you tracked me down, which is a feat in itself. And you’re gorgeous, obviously. I’m surmising that you’re basically the whole package.” He spoke calmly, as if every one of those words didn’t make your heart jump into your throat. You chugged your drink to use it as an excuse for your rosy cheeks, “So I don’t think there’s any way he could hate you. Even for inviting me here.” 
You were speechless for five long seconds as he took the cigarette back and inhaled. Then you finally got your brain to stop lagging, “You don’t even know me.” 
“I know enough.” He countered, continuing the pass back and forth of the cigarette, “And I know Art. He wouldn’t marry someone beneath him. The fucker somehow always gets the ones way out of his league.” 
You didn’t comment, but you knew what Patrick was referring to. Tashi Duncan. The now pro-tennis player that he’d had a thing with back in the day. You didn’t know the details, but you knew she was a point of contention between the two men. 
Honestly, you tried not to think about Tashi. She was gorgeous, super talented, and an overall seemingly great person. Art had passed up on that for you, and it got to your head a lot. You wondered if he regretted it. Or at least wondered what his life could’ve been like. 
You didn’t think you were out of his league. In fact, you thought the opposite. Not that you needed to tell Patrick that. Your insecurity and jealousy issues could stay yours alone. 
“Well, I don’t know about that.” You murmured.
The cigarette began to dim as you took the last drag, flicking it off the balcony and down into the grass below. With both the alcohol and nicotine gone, you started to think you probably needed to get back to the party. Your husband would be looking for you, and you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You just had to figure out how Patrick would fit into the equation. 
“If you weren’t taken, I’d be trying to charm the fuck out of you right now.” 
The statement caught you completely off guard. You looked over at him, eyes wide, and tried to keep your cool at the sexy smirk on his face. God, he was so fucking attractive. 
You blinked once, twice, a third time, “What?” 
His smile grew at your flustered state, “I have great taste in women, and I’d flirt with you if I could. So I’m saying you’re definitely a catch. And totally out of Art’s league.” 
You licked your lips. Subconsciously, “I’m pretty sure that was flirting.” 
“Was it?” He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, “Oops.” 
You ran your finger over the rim of your wine glass, trying to think of something to say. You came up empty. You were married- to this man’s childhood best friend. To the love of your life. He shouldn’t be flirting with you. And you definitely shouldn’t be enjoying it. 
“There you are! I was starting to worry.” Art’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned around to watch him making his way to you with a smile. Then he spotted Patrick and his smile dropped as his face filled with recognition, “You- what the hell are you doing here?” 
You opened your mouth to speak, to explain and mediate the situation, but the dark-haired man beat you to it. 
“Your pretty little wife invited me.” He said, which was probably the worst thing he probably could’ve chosen. You internally buried your face in your hands. 
Art’s jaw clenched and his eyes lit up. It took you a moment to realize that the expression was anger. Honestly, it took you by surprise. It was extremely rare to see him angry, and never was it directed at you. And though he was looking at Patrick, you were terrified that in this instance it was. 
“Let me explain.” You immediately choked out, clutching your empty wine glass like a lifeline, “I really just thought that-” 
“She thought you missed me and wanted us to reconnect. As a birthday surprise. Isn’t that sweet?” Patrick butted in, throwing an arm over your shoulders. Art looked ready to murder someone (probably the tennis player holding you), “I doubt it was easy contacting me, but she managed. All for you.” 
You laughed nervously, ducking your head, “Well, that’s not-” 
“Let go of her.” Art demanded. His voice was cold and dangerous. Possessive. It made something twitch in your core. Oh, you liked that. 
The brunette didn’t hesitate to do as he was told, holding his hands up in surrender, “My bad, man. I just feel like we’re already such close friends from hanging out together. Don’t you think so?” 
The last part was directed at you, and Patrick nudged you. You gave him an incredulous look. 
The charming, sweet man you’d just been talking to was gone. He was replaced by a cocky, near-disrespectful antagonist who was trying to egg your husband into some kind of altercation. And he was using you as the bait. 
You couldn’t lie that you were frustrated, but it did feel a bit nice to be in an almost tug-of-war between the two men. You liked being an object of affection or desire. 
“You should head inside, baby.” Art spoke to you, though his furious gaze never left Patrick, “Our guests will wonder where the hosts went. I’m gonna talk to Patrick for a minute.” 
You’d be damned if you told him no. Even though this situation felt like a mess that was definitely all your fault. Damn you for inviting Patrick. Damn him for being so captivating. And damn Art for loving you so much that the sight of another man touching you made him see red. This entire thing was like a whirlwind. 
“Okay…” You whispered, moving towards your husband and the house. You gave Patrick a small smile, hoping to convey your thoughts to him. Please don’t hurt him- he’s my world. Then you stopped at Art’s side and placed a hand on his bicep, “I’m sorry if this was a bad idea. I just wanted to make your birthday special, is all. I didn’t mean to fuck it up.” 
He finally looked at you, just long enough to give you a loving smile and a shake of his head, “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m so proud of you for doing all this for me. Don’t worry.” 
Then he kissed you, only to stop and pull away, “Is that- were you smoking with Patrick?” 
You sucked on your teeth and nodded, “Yes, a little. I’m sorry. I just-” 
But then he was kissing you again, hard and needy. Like he wanted to fuck you right then and there. Your face burned bright red, and you could feel Patrick’s eyes on the two of you. Art had never acted like this in all the time you knew him. But right now, within thirty seconds of being around his old friend, he was putting on a show to prove that you were his. 
You belonged to him. And he wanted Patrick to know it. 
You really, really fucking liked this. 
When he pulled away, you felt dizzy. From both the kiss and the wine you’d downed. You barely had time to take a breath before he was lightly patting your cheek and sending you inside. You managed to take a look at the two men before rejoining the party. They just stared at each other, like they were in a standoff. 
It was unbelievably hot. 
As you went back to your guests, lips still tingling, only one thought was coming to you. 
You wondered how long you could keep Patrick around, just to see what it would do to your precious husband. 
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satorusugurugurl · 2 months
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JJK Men: FWB? No, I wanna be your boyfriend!
Summary: Your Friends with Beneifit's partner realizes they want to be more!
Characters: Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, FAB!Reader
Word Count: 3,957
Warnings: FWB, smut, oral sex, fluffy feelings, public sex
A/N: Ah, FWB, but more. Delicious smut; the brainworms were good to me! 🤣❤️
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Nanami Kento:
Nanami pouted, his eyes focused on your back as some guy flirted with you. He hated seeing other people looking at his best friend like you were just a snack. It made him sick to his stomach. No one would treat you better than him. But you two agreed: friends with benefits, nothing more than that. All because Nanami thought it would help with not ruining your friendship.
And it did. Things were never awkward. You both had sex, got off, and it was perfect! No more creepy Tinder dates for you; Nanami wasn't stressed out as much. Plus, he got to remain friends with you. The arrangement was without flaw. Expect moments like this.
When he saw other people watching you, how you flirted back with the smile that had him raging, he wanted the source of your smile. Usually, when this sort of thing happened, he turned away, but something about this guy had him on edge. He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat, something to take home and fuck. You didn't deserve that. You deserve the best.
“Ooh, they fuckin.” Nanami flushed deep red as he turned to glare at Gojo, who was whispering to Geto.
“Satoru, please, it's rude to assume that,” Geto whispered back, eyeing Nanami. It was when the dark-haired man saw the flush on Nanami’s face and neck that he gaped. “Oh my god, they are fuckin’.”
“Shut up, we're just friends with benefits.”
“Oooh, Suguru, do you want to tell him?”
“Mmm nah, you go ahead, Satoru.”
Gojo leaned forward, smirking at Nanami. “Friends with Benefits don't glare daggers at strangers their FWB is talking to. Not unless they want more~.” With flushed cheeks, Nanako got up, downing the last of his drink. “Ooh, what are you going to do?!”
“Fuck you.”
“Eeeh, sorry buddy, that's Suguru’s job!”
“Satoru.” Geto purred with a smirk.
Nanami could care less about who was fucking who in their relationship. The only person he was concerned with fuckin was you. But not in the way he usually would, no, not anymore.
He stormed towards you, grabbing your wrist gently. The sudden contact had you jumping as Nanami pulled you up. He didn't say a word as he dragged you away from the asshole hitting on you. You were too stunned to speak as Nanami pulled you into the bathroom, taking you to the back stall.
Standing in the corner, you gawked as he locked the stall door. “Okay, what the actual fuck Nanami?” You were slightly annoyed, tapping your shoe against the dirty tile floor. “I was enjoying my conversation with that guy!”
“The guy that looked at you like you were a piece of ass?”
His straightforward response caught you off guard. “Huh?”
“That guy would take you home, fuck you, and never call you back because that’s the type of guy he looks like!”
“Oh? And since when do you concern yourself with my dating life? We're friends, Nanami! You're not my boyfriend!”
“Oh, I'm much more than just a friend!” Nanami crowded you, slamming both hands on the wall on either side of your head. “I’m your best friend! I'm your colleague! I’m your lover!”
His anger left the two of you stunned; your heart was racing as he inched closer to you. “You set up our arrangement. You said this was for the best; we wouldn't ruin our friendship if we kept it casual. You said that!” Nanami watched your cheeks burn, your eyes avoiding his at all costs.
“You're right. This was my arrangement. And I don't think I can do it anymore.”
That caught your attention, Y/E/C eyes finding his honey-brown ones in a flash. “What?! No, why?!” Nanami’s large hand cupped your face.
“Because I find myself wanting more. I want you, Y/N, I want all of you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
The confession, the anger, all of that collided together in a heated kiss. You both made quick work; you unbuckled his belt, and he slid your dress up past your hips, moving your panties to the side. When you were in a moment like this, you moved in sync. There were no fumbling or awkward movements. Just perfect flowing movements, much like dancers or ice skaters who had been perfecting their art for decades. That was the perfect way to describe how you and Nanami moved together.
Your back was against the cold stall, legs wrapped around Nanami’s hips as he fucked you. His cock slid in and out of you like it had done hundreds of times before, finding a rhythm he knew the two of you enjoyed. That was one of the many joys of fucking your best friend. Everything was easy and comfortable.
“Nanami, fuck your cock is so big.”
”Yeah? Your pussy is tight; it’s like they were made for each other.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, moaning in surprise as his hips snapped forward. “It’s like a puzzle.” Your words were meant to be a joke, based on what he said. But they meant the world to Nanami.
”Yes, you’re right.” His lips found yours, nipping at your lips. “That’s exactly what you are to me, Y/N.” His hips moved harder, the stall creaking under the force as you yelped out in pained pleasure. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix with each powerful thrust.
”W-What am I to you?” Nanami mewled as your fingers ran through his hair before rubbing against his undercut. “Tell me.” Your voice was caught in a moan as one of his hands reached down, rubbing your clit. “N-Nana, fuck, fuck yes.”
”You’re my other half, my missing piece.” He growled against your skin, his hot tongue licking at your pulse. “You’re my favorite person.” He chuckled, teeth grazing your skin. “And I want to be with you.”
You were hearing the words you had been wanting to hear for years sent you into orgasmic bliss. You screamed, pussy clamping down on Nanami, milking him as he grunted against your skin. His hips slammed against you, his hot cum filling you to the brim until his cock had gone soft. He kept you pinned against the stall, breathing heavily against your flushed skin before he felt your hands lazily play with his hair again.
When he pulled back to meet your gaze, he swore his heart skipped a beat. You were smiling so softly, with an expression he’d never seen. A mixture of satisfaction and happiness. It had butterflies, butterflies of all things swarming around the pit of his stomach. He can’t stop leaning in, kissing you the softest he’s ever kissed.
”So,” you whispered against his lips, “does this mean you’ll finally stay the night with me?”
Nanami shakes his head with a chuckle as the two of you readjust your clothes and straighten your hair. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll stay the night, and then I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.” He gently takes your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “How does that sound, Y/N?” You didn’t even need to respond for Nanami to know your answer. The wide grin and sparkle in the blue lights of the bathroom said it all.
”Sounds like a dream come true!”
Geto Suguru:
You looked at the clock with a groan, digging through your closet. You were going to be late for your date Shoko had set up. Your stupid cardigan had gone missing again. It was the only one you had, seeing as the other was on your desk chair at work. You couldn’t just go out in the early spring evening without a sweater! It was too hot for long sleeves and hoodies.
Lucky for you, Geto Suguru, your roommate's best friend, and your FWB had a sweater. One he was not currently using. You hurried out of your room, searching for the dark-haired man. He was in the living room, looking through the books, when he heard your heels clicking over the floor.
”Hey, do you still have that book I let you borr-“ Suguru choked on his words when he turned to look down at you. You were in a tight black lace bra, a push-up one that made your breasts look plumper than usual. The matching thong barely covered your pussy, leaving little to the imagination. “What the hell are you doing?!” Suguru barked out, head whirling for any peering eyes that might not be his own.
”Relax, Satoru has seen me naked before.” Seeing Suguru’s eyebrows ccock up, you shook your head. “Chill out. I forgot to lock the bathroom door. I haven't slept with him.” Your eyes did a glance over the living room, pouting when you couldn’t find your sweater still. “Could I borrow your sweater? I can’t find mine, and I would rather not freeze tonight.”
Relieved to know Satoru had only seen you naked by accident, Suguru shrugged out of his black sweater, promptly handing it to you. “Where are you going? Book club, drinks with the girls?” You answered with a shake of your head, heading back to the bedroom.
”Nope, I got a date.”
Before you could take another step, Suguru held your wrist. You turned your head, looking at him from over your shoulder. His dark eyes were wide, gaze locked on yours. It was shocking to see him so stunned. He was usually calm and collected.
You turned around, looking him over, trying to pinpoint the source of his shock. While your Y/E/C eyes searched over him, his hands ran up your arms, gently holding you. This was a side of him you never saw, so gentle and unsure.
“Date? What do you mean you have a date?”
“Oh, yeah, Shoko set it up for me.” Suguru clenched his teeth, his eyes now roamed over your body. He was taking in the curves and dips of your skin. Every part he had caressed and kissed. “She said it was time for me to get back on the playing field.”
Shaking his head, Suguru gently ran his hands up to your shoulders. “Why? You have me. Don't I satisfy your needs?” You laughed, cocking an eyebrow up at him. “Why are you looking at me like that, Y/N? I'm being serious!” His frustration only made you giggle more as you shook your head in disbelief.
“Suguru, you told me that you didn't want a relationship. That what we had was just sex. Someone we could turn to when we were horny, no strings attached.”
“I know I said that.”
“Then why are you being so weird about me going out on a date?”
Yeah, why was the thought of you going out with someone else making his stomach do cartwheels? You both agreed to hook up whenever you wanted. But just because you fucked, didn't mean you were his girlfriend. He had specified that part himself.
The no-strings-attached policy was just something he had said in the spur of the moment. He had so many thoughts running through his mind as the two of you made out. Would Satoru be mad at him for sleeping with his roommate? Would it make things awkward for the two of you when he came over? In the heat of the moment, three months ago, that was the most reasonable thing he thought to say.
”Because I want to be the only person you date.” His words were confident and to the point. Not leaving any thoughts of doubt behind.
You were still left staring at him in utter confusion. “But you said no strings attached!?” Your brain was beginning to hurt with the back-and-forth banter.
“Ugh!” He released you, throwing his head back. “I know I said that and trust me, I wish I could take back that singular sentence. I was thinking about all the ifs and ands when I should have been focusing on the cold, hard truth.” He began pacing, his eyes glued to the floor as he continued to rant. “The truth is, I like you. I’ve liked you for the last year, but I didn’t want to make you feel weird or have Satoru pissed off that I slept with you.”
“Suguru.”
“But sleeping with you made me like you even more! I just fuck; I regret saying that because I don’t want to be friends with benefits anymore. I want to be the one taking you out on dates! I want to be the only guy in your bed and vice versa. After we hooked up, I deleted all the dating apps, and I just.” He huffed out a sigh, turning to look at you. “I want you.”
Fuck, he shouldn’t have ranted like that. But what else could he have done? He had to get it off his chest before you went on your date. At least let you know how he felt before you went out with someone else. The ball was in your court now. That might be the most terrifying part of this whole mess he found himself in.
His dark eyes were glued to the floor as he listened to your heels clicking as you stood before him. Bracing himself for rejection or anything else, Suguru looked up, meeting your flushed face and a wide smile. Seeing you like that had him stepping forward, closing the distance between you.
”You deleted all of your dating apps after the first time we hooked up?” He nodded his head. “In the last three months, you haven’t been with anyone but me?’ Another nod. “You want to be with me?”
”Yes! I want that more than anything.”
You threw your arms around him, kissing him deeply as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling tight against him. Your kiss held as much truth as his words had. It was feverish, deep, and full of passion. You were conveying the truth of your feelings for him without using words.
By the time you managed to pull yourself away, both of you were panting heavily. “Let me cancel this date, then maybe we could go out.” You breathed out between gasps. “I’m happy to have a boyfriend now, but I was sort of looking forward to getting eaten out tonight.” As your message went through, Suguru had you in his arms, tossing your phone on the couch.
Suguru had your back pinned against the wall, legs over his shoulders, as his hands held your ass. You gripped the wall as best as you could, heart racing from being so high off the ground as Suguru licked and sucked at your clit through your lace panties. He lapped and sucked at you like a man dying of thirst. His feral actions had you grabbing his smooth, dark hair, pulling it as you rocked against his face.
Suguru hummed, glancing at you before prodding your dripping entrance with his tongue. As he did, his heart almost stopped. His tongue had slid through a tiny opening in the center, meeting your dripping cunt. Eyes shot to your face, seeing the smirk tugging at your kiss-swollen lips.
“Never heard of crotchless panties, Sugu?”
There was no snarky remark or comeback. Just his tongue burying itself deep inside of you. You cried out, eyes shutting tight as he brushed his nose over your clit, shaking his head back and forth. You felt dizzy as his tongue swirled inside of you, lapping and rubbing against your inner walls.
Suguru was so skilled at using his mouth. His tongue mapped out every part of your pussy and entrance. The man loved to eat you out and make you feel so good. If his girlfriend wanted to get her pussy eaten, by god, she would. He'd make sure you’d never be left unsatisfied. If it took hours to make you cum on his tongue, then he'd take those hours, not stopping until you came, coating his face with your essence.
He was so worked up, just thinking about eating you out, making you feel good, that he groaned as you tugged hard on his hair. Little moans of ‘Suguru’ and ‘im cumming’ was all he could register before you were squirting all over his face. He shut his eyes as your juices coated his lips, tongue, and chin. His tongue kept moving until you were begging him to stop.
“Was that to your liking?” He asked gently, lowering you to the ground. “Satisfied? Or do you n-nngh!” His words were caught in his throat, eyes darting down to where you had his cock in a vice grip.
“Shut the fuck up and come fuck your girlfriend into the mattress.” Suguru didn't need you to tell him twice, especially when you called yourself his girlfriend.
Toji Fushiguro:
“This is me.” You nervously laughed as your creepy Tinder date eyed the building you didn't live in. “Thanks for the date, it was fun.” Yeah, it was a lot of fun getting felt up and paying for the dinner he told you he would buy, but he just so happened to forget his wallet.
“You don't want to invite me up?” the creepy guy asked as you hit the buzzer three times. “I thought you might want some dessert. I have a great cream filling for you to try.”
“No, I'm good.”
“Don't be a bitch; come on, let me in.”
“I said I’m good!”
“Stupid fuc—”
The door to the apartment complex swung open, and a firm hand grabbed you, pulling you inside. “She said no, go fuck yourself.” without another word, the door slammed shut. “Fuck, you sure know how to pick them.” you pressed your face into your FWB’s chest, his hand rubbing your back soothingly.
“Holy fuck, that was super scary thanks Toji.” Your hands gripped his shirt, holding yourself upright as he sighed.
“Why do you put yourself through this?” Toji asked, leading you to the elevator. “Honestly, you should know better than to go out with creeps like that one.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping onto the elevator with him. “I just want to find my person.” Those words had Toji glaring down at you. “Not all of us can be satisfied with random hookups with friends.” The elevator opened on the third floor, and you stepped out.
“Random hookups?” His tone was dry. “You think that's what this is between us?”
“You're really to look at me and tell me they aren't?” He grabbed your attention arm, glaring down at you. “This is just to blow off steam, right?”
You and Toji had slept together on multiple occasions. After a long week of work, a bad day when you were feeling down. He was always the one you went to when you needed to vent, have a good laugh, or have sex. Toji was your friend, and you loved him, but he didn't love you the same way. He was a single dad, taking care of his son Megumi. He didn't have time to date and all that other stuff. Once in a while, a good fuck with you was enough to fulfill his needs.
So when your best friend dragged you into his apartment and slammed the door behind him, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. His eyes were dark and narrow with frustration and anger. A look you rarely saw directed towards you. You felt so small under his gaze it had you stepping back., the back of your knees hitting the couch.
“Do you honestly think I would hook up with you to blow off steam? You’re the same woman I have over for dinner, the woman I sleep with, the only other person I trust with Megumi!” His anger was palpable as you crawled onto the couch, your eyes never leaving his as he followed you. “I didn't put a label on this,” his hand motioned between you, “you did!”
“So what are you saying?!”
“I'm saying you're the only one going on stupid dates! I'm not! If you want more, say it! You're a grown-ass adult. You can do what you want, Y/N! And so can I!” He crawled on top of you. “So, for once in your life, can you please be honest?!”
You felt your nose and eyes burning with tears. Was he saying what you thought he was? That he wanted to be more, but you were holding back? Had you been the one keeping the FWB label on your relationship?
The longer you stare into his dark eyes, the more your face softens. Toji was always the one you ran to after a stupid Tinder date. He was the only person you slept with, the only man you wanted to be with, and Megumi, god, you lived that kid like he was your son. You couldn't find your person through random people because you already found him.
Your person was Toji.
Your hands gently reached up, cupping his face. “You want me?” Your voice was shaky and hesitant, scared to hear his answer.
“Of fuckin’ course I want you, Y/N.” he turned towards your hand, kissing your palm. “You idiot, it took you that long to see it?”
“You could have said something.” Your teasing tone was cut off by his hands working on your leggings. “Toji, wait, what are you doing? Megumi’s in the other room.”
Toji didn't respond to you; he just tugged his sweats down, tucking the band of them under his balls. “I’m not good with words. So I’ll show you how much I want you.” He rubbed his cock up and down over your folds before slowly pressing into you.
Soft moans and whines escaped you both as Toji slowly began to fuck you inside the couch. His hand grabbed at your hips, breasts, and thighs. Touching you everywhere he could as his cock pressed in and out of you, fucking you deeper and harder with each thrust of his hips. Toji pressed hot kisses against your lips. Each kiss, touch, and thrust told you everything you needed to know.
“I love you.” You cried out without thinking as he pressed into your g-spot. The sudden outburst had Toji freezing above you, hips pausing mid-thrust. Sweat slowly dripped down his temple as his mind replayed your words.
“What was that?”
“I said I love you.”
Toji’s eyes widened in surprise as he felt something unlock inside him. Whether it was his heart or sick throbbed inside of you, he couldn't tell. “Fuck,” he whispered, eyes drifting down your body. “Fuck.” Toji pulled all the way out before slamming hard into you. “Fuck!!” He growled, slamming into you harder and deeper with each thrust. “Love you too, fuck, I love you.”
Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself drawing closer and closer to your orgasm. Toji reached over you, grabbing the arm of the couch for support as he drilled into you. Holy fuck, this was intense, so fucking intense. Your moans grew louder before he clamped his other hand over your mouth.
“As much as I love you screaming my name, I would rather not have my kid catching us. So be a good girl and cum.” His raspy command and slamming into your g-spot was all you needed. You screamed into his hand, trembling under him as he gritted his teeth. “Cummin’ take it all, Y/N~!”
As the waves of pleasure died, Toji removed his hand, smiling at you. You returned his grin, kissing him softly. “Fuck, that was so good.” Toji chuckled, shifting so you both were lying on the couch.
“Y/N, everything is good when it comes to you.”
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mazamba · 1 month
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Baby Steps
Dani slurped her milkshake noisily as she shifted back to the visible spectrum, interrupting the argument between the so-called adults. It'd been a hectic week, she'd been part of Young Justice for less than a week, yet they already had a crisis in the form of a maybe-evil clone.
"Do you mind?" growled Batman.
"Try a different word."
Superman raised an eyebrow.
""Father" is too heavy, try "brother" instead," she continued, "I mean, Phantom's technically my dad, but I don't call him that. He's my 'cuz!"
"What we call each other isn't the problem."
"No, but it's less scary isn't it? Danny was fifteen when I met him. Imagine if I'd called him dad. He'd have freaked out!"
Batman nodded, seeing the logic.
"And even then, I kinda needed some time to put my head together, you know?" she rattled on, floating crisscross applesauce in midair like a balloon in the breeze, "It's the real reason I left the first time. Maybe some time apart would be good for them? Microdose in family!"
"What we call each other isn't even half of the problem," sighed Superman, "you're a clone too, right? You once told me it was weird to know things you didn't remember learning. Clones are made and programed, sometimes with sleeper programming."
"True, but that's what we're here for," she figured, "I mean, I can't take you on, but Superboy's a different story. If he does go nuts, he has the whole Junior League to take care of him."
"I can't ask you to put yourself in danger."
"You're not, I'm volunteering," figured Stray, finally floating down to the ground, "look, Phantom and I work because we took the time to figure out who we are to each other. You two need time to figure out what you are, not get shoved together and hope for the best."
Batman grunted.
"This is a shock, it was a shock for Danny too. Sa- A mutual friend told me he had a panic attack an hour after I left. Started looking into childcare and stuff. She had to stop him from running after me with a diaper bag and they both crashed into a tree. Tu- a different friend sent me a picture."
"Your point?" sighed the Bat.
"I just said it? Forcing things helps no one. Just... put them in general proximity of each other and let the cards lay where they may. I know what you want to help Superboy, but forcing them into a get along shirt is just gonna hurt them both. You have to think of Superman too."
"And if he does go rogue?"
"Then we stop him."
"That easy?"
"That easy."
Superman sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, the whole situation was a lot less scary by simply changing the word. And what Stray said made sense, in a roundabout sort of way.
For his part, Batman was mentally kicking himself for hyper-focusing on Superboy's needs without taking Clark's feelings into consideration.
"We'll go with your plan," he agreed, "Superman, I'll need you to have a word with Black Canary. She will mediate with you and Superboy whenever you wish to meet, but I need you both to agree to this before we move forward."
"And if we can't?"
"Then he'll have to get adopted into somewhere else," figured Dani, sitting in midair again, "nothing good will happen if we just dump him on you. Neither one of you deserve what happened."
---
I'm sick of people dumping on Clark. Considering how he and the others live, I can't blame him for being suspicious.
Some other guy got replaced by a clone that didn't even know he was a clone. It wouldn't be that weird for Connor to have sleeper programming.
If anything, this is on Batman and the others for trying to force a relationship.
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lenaellsi · 7 months
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“Crowley is still an angel deep down” “Crowley is more of an angel than any of the archangels” “Crowley was only cast out because he needed to play his part in Armageddon, he's not a real demon” “Aziraphale wants to rebuild Heaven to be more like Crowley because he’s what an angel should be” no. Stop it. This is exactly where Aziraphale went wrong.
Crowley is 100% a demon. He's not actually a bit of an angel, and he's not cosmically better than any of the other demons we see in the series. He's much less vicious than most of them, yeah, but he's also much less vicious than most of the angels, because how “nice” a celestial being is has nothing to do with which side they're technically on. Crowley's kindness comes from him doing his best to help people despite the hurt he's suffered himself, not any sort of inherent residual or earned holiness. He was cast out just like the rest of the demons, and that's an important part of his history that shouldn't be minimized, excused, or, critically, 'corrected.'
Being angelic is not a positive or negative trait in the Good Omens universe. It's a species descriptor. Saying that Crowley is still an angel deep down because he helps people is an in-character thing for Aziraphale to think, certainly--Job and the final fifteen showed that in the worst possible way--but it's not something Crowley would ever react well to, and it's the main source of conflict in the entire "appoint you to be an angel" fiasco.
We know that Aziraphale thinks Crowley's fall was an injustice, but why? Well, because Crowley is actually Good, which means his fall was a mistake, or a test, or a regrettable error in judgment, or…something. Ineffable. Etc. The point is, he’s special, much better than those other demons, and if they can fix him and make him an angel again, everything will be fine! (So once Job's trials are over, everything will be restored to him? Praise be!) Aziraphale has to believe that Crowley's better traits come from traces of the angel he used to know and not the demon he's known for 6,000 years, because that’s how he can rationalize his incorrect view of Heaven as The Source Of Truth And Light And Good with his complicated feelings about Crowley's fall.
But Crowley's fall was not an injustice because he's actually a Good Person who didn't deserve it. Crowley's fall was an injustice because the entire system of dividing people into Good (obedient) and Bad (rebellious) is bullshit. Crowley is not an unfortunate exception to God's benevolence, he is a particularly sympathetic example of God's cruelty.
And really, Crowley doesn't behave at all like an angel, especially when he's at his best. All of the things that he's done that we as the audience consider Good are things that Heaven has directly opposed. (See: saving the goats and children in defiance of God in S2E2, convincing Aziraphale to give money to Elspeth despite Heaven's views on the "virtues of poverty" in S2E3, speaking out against the flood and the crucifixion in S1E3, tempting Aziraphale to enjoy earthly pleasures because he thinks they'll make him happy, stopping Armageddon.)
Heaven as an institution has never been about helping humanity. And that's not an issue of leadership, as Aziraphale seems to think--it's by design. Aziraphale's first official act as an angel toward humanity was to literally throw them to the lions. Giving them the sword wasn't him acting like an angel, it was just him being himself. Heaven doesn't care about humans. It's not supposed to. It's supposed to win the war against Hell, with humans as chess pieces at best and collateral damage at worst.
Yes, it's easier to think that there are forces that are supposed to be fundamentally good. It's easier to think that Aziraphale is going to show those mean archangels and the Metatron what’s coming to them and reform Heaven into what it "should" be, and that God is actually super chill and watching all of this while shipping ineffable husbands and cheering for them the whole way. And of course it's easier to take Crowley, who Aziraphale (and the audience) adores, and say that he deserves to be on the Good team much more than all those angels and demons that we don’t like. But that's not how it works. People are more complicated than that, even celestial beings.
Crowley is a demon, and the tragedy of his character is not that he's secretly a good guy who is being forced to be evil; the tragedy is that he's lived his whole life stuck between two institutional forces that are both equally hostile to the love he feels for the universe and the beings in it. There are no good and bad guys. There are no "right people." Every angel, demon, and human is capable of hurting or helping others based on their choices. That is, in fact, the entire fucking point.
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babyleostuff · 11 months
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i love love love the clingy fic. do you think you’d be open to making one for all the members?
seventeen being clingy with their s/o | ot13
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thank you so much for this request! I turned it into a headcanon, so I hope you won't mind it.
☾₊ ⊹ currently playing: blue hour by txt
side note: the length of each member's headcanon has nothing to do with who I like more or less
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 
okay, we all know that Seungcheol is the president™ of clinginess 
hand holding, hugs, cuddles, kisses, head pats, you name it 
he would have no problem stopping whatever he was doing just to give you a hug 
btw, his hugs must be the best (silently crying in the corner)
they make you feel so safe and fluffy 
would sometimes tease you for your clinginess, but then you can just say “no cuddles tonight” and he’ll be apologizing on his knees
morning and goodnight kisses are mandatory, and there is a big chance he’ll get pouty and sulky if he doesn’t get one 
wouldn’t mind a clingy and affectionate significant other whatsoever 
and if you weren’t a person that liked physical touch, he would respect that 100%
nonetheless, would slowly but surely try to warm you up to the idea 
I think cuddling him would be one of the best ways to comfort him in any situation 
simply holding him tightly and stroking his hair 
he would love if you’d poke his dimples (it only makes him smile even wider) 
I think he’d love the idea of cuddling with you before sleep, but somehow would end up on the other side of the bed, in the weirdest position in the morning 
would also love when you’d fall asleep in his arms during a movie night, for example 
it makes him so so happy, and he thinks you’re the cutest thing in the world (because you are) 
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ YOON JEONGHAN 
another very cuddly and affectionate member 
I think he is more low key than Cheol though
he loves the quiet and intimate aspects of physical touch
definitely holds your hand in public, especially when there are a lot of people 
loves laying and napping on your lap, while you play with his hair 
there is a 90% chance that he has his head on your shoulder whenever you are sitting next to each other 
plays a lot with you hands too (you’re basically his fidget toy) 
loves the quiet nights when there is only the two of you, when he can you full out with his clinginess 
if you’re in the kitchen doing whatever you can bet he’ll stick to you and follow you everywhere 
has the biggest heart eyes and a soft smile whenever looking at you 
will definitely tease you from time to time, but we all know he loves when you smother him with love 
maybe not the BIGGEST fan of PDA, but would definitely not shy away from showing his affection around the boys
if they have a problem they can leave = Jeonghan’s mindset 
strives for forehead kisses, they make him so soft and appreciated 
just give him all the love he deserves 
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ HONG JOSHUA 
HUSBAND MATERIAL RIGHT HERE
so so so soft 
very low key with his affections, might not be all over you, but is always right by your side 
always has a hand around your waist when you’re at big gatherings and never lets you go in a big crowd of people 
the main hand holder in seventeen, and I’m going to stand by that 
sitting down? holding hands. waiting in a line? holding hands. going on a walk? holding hands. 
gives the softest, most reassuring hugs known to mankind 
generally, he’s very soft and his aura just radiates with love and reassurance, so there is not a single moment in your relationship where he lets you doubt yourself
head pats specialist - you can do the smallest, most insignificant thing and he’ll still pat your head lovingly with a soft smile 
even though he is not that into physical touch, he’ll never decline your hugs, kisses or cuddles 
I don’t think he would tease you that much, but sometimes might find it amusing how clingy you get (sometimes he jokingly avoids your kisses just to see you sulk until he doesn’t burst out laughing and give you tons of kisses in apologies) 
expresses his affection through actions, is always there for you
sometimes you don’t even have to ask him for help - he just knows and is there right by you in a second 
such a attentive listener, you could be rambling about the most random thing and he’ll still look at as if nothing else existed in the world 
everyone can see how in love he is, simply by the way he looks at you
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ WEN JUNHUI 
on the first glance may not seem like it, but he gets clingy more often than you’d think 
he loves giving back hugs, just clinging onto you, while you do your thing 
nuzzling his head in your neck has become a big habit for him (and overall, a BIG fan of neck kisses)
now he’s a menace, so beware, he will tease you 
but it is all out of love, he would never seriously decline your affection
sometimes, he’d just come up to you and stand there waiting for kisses 
will lay in your lap after a tiring day, and not get up, no matter how badly you need to go to the bathroom 
would hug you for the longest time if he’d see you’re upset or anxious 
is very gentle, but sometimes underestimates his own strength, which ends up with you laying on the floor 
once, he lost you in a big crowd, and since then he has always an arm wrapped around you or at least is holding your hand 
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ KWON SOONYOUNG 
tiger who? more like a koala 
will cling to you 24/7 
ESPECIALLY when he’s drunk, he will hold onto you for dear life
comes up with the most random, weird and cliche nicknames for you, and will use it in the presence of other people 
sometimes his love can get a bit aggressive, especially if he’s full of energy (but would never do anything to hurt you) 
can get super cheesy, to the point where you have to shut him up 
sometimes he’s just too cute for you too handle, so you’d have no other choice then give him kisses all over his face
which he likes A LOT 
sometimes, to tease you, he’d act like he doesn’t notice your affection and clinginess, just to tackle you in a hug a second later 
this man WILL BLUSH, and you use that fact a lot to your own advantage (usually when you’re with the boys, just to mess with him)
expects a good morning kiss, because he swears he’s days are always better when you kiss him in the morning 
pouts if you let go of his hand, and he will in fact let you know, that he’s upset 
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ JEON WONWOO
(this man is going to be the death of me)
at first very very shy with affection, but as he gets more and more comfortable you’ll get to see a whole another side of him 
definitely not the biggest on PDA, even in front of the boys 
but I can guarantee you, he’ll always be touching in some way when you’re in public 
whether it’ll be linked pinkies, holding hands, a strong arm around your waist or just simply standing very very close to you
he’ll never kiss you around the boys, but he will not shy away from pecking your forehead or giving quick cheek kisses 
look like he hates when you cuddle into him, but on the inside he’s freaking out from how cute and adorable you are 
also whenever you show him any type of affection it makes him feel so loved and appreciated (so please give him all the affection he deserves) 
sometimes will come up from behind, give you a quick hug, and leave as if nothing just happened 
loves loves loves to cuddle when you’re reading, it’s usually him initiating the affection in situations like these 
it’s just his silent way of showing you his love
okay, I know that this is so basic and cliche, BUT 
cuddling him while he’s gaming (can you just imagine sitting in his lap, watching him doing what he loves, giving him kisses and cheering whenever he wins) 
I can already see his shy smile after you press a sweet kiss on his lips after he wins a battle or something 
sometimes if you’re being too clingy, he’ll just send you a side eye and sigh, but not stop you at all 
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ LEE JIHOON
now, we know that this man is not a fan of physical touch 
and he still isn’t, except when the affection comes from you 
he has came to terms with the fact that you’ll never stop hugging him, simply accepting his destiny 
definitely will let you know if it gets too much, but he tries to be more open minded when it comes to you 
over the time spend with you, he’d notice the small acts of yours, that he’d miss when you weren't around, like gently holding his hand 
he’d notice, that from time to time he’d feel like something’s missing 
and it’d turn out that he just misses you holding his hand
will link pinkies in public, but that’s the furthest he will go (he’d never leave your side though, he’s always there to keep an eye on you) 
if he’s really tired, he will come up to you without saying a word and lay in your lap
gets so happy if you play with his hair then (would never admit this to you) 
is so grateful to you that you respect his boundaries 
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ XU MINGHAO 
*sigh*
when it comes to Hao, I think he’s a bit similar to Wonwoo, in the sense that in the beginning of you relationship he would be more closed off and shy 
but as the time goes, he’d open more and more up
his affection would come in waves - he’d have days where he’d need to be left alone (always tells you this, as not to cause any miscommunication) and on others he’d smother you with love 
he is very gentle with giving and showing affection, will always hold you in a delicate way 
big fan of hand holding and head pats, as well as just simply being next to you 
your presence in general is very comforting and calming to him, you know each other so well, that sometimes no words are needed to know how the other person is feeling 
he always checks up on you during any parties or gatherings, if your having fun or if no one is making you uncomfortable (will fight if someone is mean to you) 
loves whenever you put your head on his shoulder, his heart will probably beat a little faster 
also loves when you cling to him in search of comfort, he’s the happiest knowing that he can be a safe place for you
not the biggest fan of cuddling while sleeping (he needs his space), but will always cuddle before, catching up on what he’d missed from your day 
sometimes, you’re just so cute to him that he can’t contain his giggles 
then you’re like (•ิ_•ิ) what did I do? 
but then, I’m the biggest believer in a tired, clingy Minghao (u cannot tell me that this man wouldn't cling to you like a koala, while being already half asleep)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ KIM MINGYU 
is there even a point of saying anything about this man? 
cuddles, kisses, hugs, hand holding, playing with each others’ hair, resting his arm on you, WITH THIS MAN YOU GET A WHOLE PACKAGE 
definitely one of the most clingy, cuddly and affectionate members (nothing knew) 
I mean, he would drop everything and run to cuddle with you 
never leaves your side, follows you around everywhere, and will DEFINITELY always be touching you in some way 
a hand holding yours, on your thigh, around your shoulder, around your waist, THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS 
unsurprisingly his hugs would solve like 99 of your problems, it’s like they heave some kind of healing properties 
would confidently sulk and pout if you’d reject any of affections, acting like a five year old until you didn’t apologize with tons of kisses and at least an hour of cuddling him 
usually is the big spoon, loves the feeling of having you wrapped up in his strong arms
on occasions, especially when he’s having a hard time, he’ll want to be the little spoon and would not shy away from it 
sometimes you have to remind him that he’s like ten times bigger than you, so throwing himself at you is not a good idea
but, the thing with this menace is that he will tease you
there are times when you’re just so done with him and leave him alone on the couch (which is not that fun for him anymore) 
BACK HUGS !!!
would do it 24/7 if he could, also loves it when you back hug him as well 
(If I don’t get a Kim Mingyu, I don’t want him) 
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ LEE SEOKMIN 
you become a giggly mess in each others’ presence 
sometimes, you’d do the annoying “couple stuff”, just to piss of others (insert: Seungkwan’s side eye)
He will return every affection that you give him - you kiss him? He kisses you back. You hug him? He hugs you back
you’re just going back and forth, never getting tired of each other 
when you’re out together, YOU’RE TOGETHER 
you two are connected by the hip, seeing you apart for more than five minutes is almost impossible 
likes to hold your hand, and sway it back and forth like a kid when you’re walking 
a fan of giving and receiving sweet kisses on the forehead (it makes him so smiley and warm inside, give him all the kisses) 
seeing you being so open with your affection towards him, makes him so happy - it’s a reassurance for him, that he’s being a good boyfriend 
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ BOO SEUNGKWAN 
now this drama queen 
in the beginning of your relationship he would scoff at you whenever you initiated any physical contact, which made you think that he didn’t like it 
after some time, when he asked you why you’d stopped hugging and kissing him, you explained how he’d react in those situations 
was so angry and disappointed with himself and since then he would never complain about any of your affection 
it’s not that he disliked it, on the contrary - he loved it, he was just being a dramatic ass and trying to be funny 
as your relationship progresses the drama in him doesn't stop though - if you let go of his hand or refuse a kiss, he’ll throw a tantrum and make it appear as if it was one of the biggest problems in his life 
he could be arguing with Soonyoung and screaming his head off, but the second he heard your voice he’d turn into the biggest softie 
in general, he is the biggest baby when he’s with you 
loves loves hugs, could hug you all day if he could 
also kisses (cheek kisses especially), makes him so incredibly soft and mushy ♥‿♥
gets shy in public, but never lets go of your hand (I think he needs you more, than you need him) 
also, has the biggest heart eyes for you, and you only 
gets so happy when you comfort and reassure him through physical touch, there is nothing better than a cuddle or a hug from the person you love the most 
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHWE VERNON 
(I’m so sorry, but the only thing I see when I think of Vernon is his NPC walk)
would just let you do whatever to him, and he wouldn’t even bat an eye 
although he is one of the least affectionate member, he wouldn’t mind your clinginess AT ALL 
it makes him so reassured that even though he’s not the best with expressing his love through physical touch, you don’t mind it at all 
the only time he’ll refuse your cuddles is when sleeping (WE ALL KNOW HOW HE SLEEPS, THERE IS NO WAY HE’D CUDDLE YOU) 
his way of showing you affection is calling you bro and dude 
sometimes you’re like (¬_¬) seriously? 
likes to be near you wherever you are - even if there is no more space on the couch, trust me, he’ll squeeze himself in there 
when he laughs, there is a big chance he’ll lean on you or even hide his face in your lap 
movie nights often ends up in cuddle sessions and since clingy Vernon is rare, those moments are even more special 
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ LEE CHAN 
MY BABY 
the softest, most precious human being out there 
loves all the affection, whatever it is, he’ll accept it with open arms
kiss him, hug him, cuddle him PLEASE, he adores all of it 
would not tease you that much, scared that accidentally you’ll think that it annoys him and you’ll stop, which is like the last thing he’d like 
we all know that he’d baby you, and would not be ashamed to do so 
for once he wants to feel like the strong man that he is, so please let him open the jars for you
will protect you 24/7 (we stan a short, but confident king) 
so sweet and careful with you
not afraid to hold your hand in public, sometimes when feeling bold will even peck your forehead
speaking of, I think it would send Chan into a coma anytime you’d peck his forehead or cheek 
gets all smiley when you hug him, especially from behind (overall, he can never seem to stop smiling when he’s with you) 
kisses with him are so playful and sweet 
I’m also sure when you’re alone he’d be all over you, cuddles during movie nights are A MUST, otherwise you’ll end up with a pouty boyfriend 
3K notes · View notes
acourtofwhatthefuck · 6 months
Text
Practice On Me — Part Fourteen — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Reader is readying herself for the ball. Hot Daddy Fin™️ opens up to her a little and shares some worrying truths (and then some). Azriel and Reader reunite, body and soul.
Word Count: 8.2k
Warnings: Adult content, 18+, NSFW, minors dni.
Tried my best with this part but sorry if it's a bit iffy! This girlie is ill as FUCK. Still hope you enjoy, tho, loves!
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“You know, I have to admit, I was dubious at first.”
Mor is knelt at your feet, and you think this might be the closest you ever come to having a goddess on her knees before you. A strange part of you wants her to snap out and sink her teeth into your thigh, leave a bright red mark on the skin — but alas, her attention is fully on the hem of your gown.
“My uncle, love him though I do, is a calculated bastard.” She pushes to her feet, straightening out the fabric. “But I think he actually enjoys your company.”
“He does.” Roza pitches in from her place on the couch. “I know Fin. Y/N has him eating out of the palm of her hand.”
Though she smiles, her tone is laced with clear concern. Not because she cares about Fin, but because she cares about you. Doesn’t want you to forget that this is the High Lord of the Night Court you’re meddling with.
“Males are vapid and predictable, every last one of them.” You shrug your tense shoulders. “Throw them a few pretty smiles and they’ll do anything for you.”
Mor steps back, a low whistle leaving her. “Forget the males. I’ll do anything for you.”
Her eyes rake over your gown. So do Roza’s. And you…you want to crawl out of your skin and hide.
You’ve never owned a beautiful gown like this, never been able to afford one. The couple of dresses you do keep amongst your clothes are plain ones that just about do for special occasions. What hangs off your body now is…a work of art.
Almost feels like sacrilege for the beautiful fabric to touch your marred skin.
It’s sheer, showing off more than you’ve ever before dared to, and yet there’s a modesty, an elegance, to the many whorls and swirls made up entirely of little blue jewels and pearls and beads. It gives the gown a weight that makes it cling to you, and it outlines a body that…that quite frankly, you’d never considered beautiful until this very moment.
A body that commands the garment, and not the other way round. That makes you feel like far more than just another mistreated, unfavoured Illyrian female that will one day be lost to history.
This gown makes you think: I do not need the wings I have spent my life longing for.
It makes you think: There is nothing more beautiful than a good spirit and soul, and I have both.
It makes you think: Never again will anyone — friend or family or foe — make you feel less than worthy. Less than deserving. Less than strong.
You have always had strength. And this dress somehow amplifies it. Will amplify it to a room full of people who will see, through that sheer fabric, your scars, your lack of wings, and they may pity you, or not pity you at all, or may even laugh.
But you will still be beautiful.
Movement has you realising that tears have blurred your eyes. You swipe them away, and Mor is smiling at you, and Roza looks like she’s a little choked up, too.
“You are so godsdamned gorgeous.” Mor says earnestly. “Every last inch of you.”
Indeed, you glance over your shoulder at the mirror behind you, your gaze immediately finding your scars sitting brutal and undeniable beneath the sheer fabric. You don’t hurriedly force your gaze away like you have done your whole life, don’t try to avoid them.
You just…look. Look at what has been a part of you for so long, now.
“…Mor?” Roza says quietly. “Can you…give Y/N and I a moment?”
“Of course.” Mor agrees. “Time for me to find a snack.”
The stunning blonde squeezes your hand as she strolls past, and as she leaves the room, the door is pulled shut behind her.
Roza rises from her seat, making her way over to you. And as she stops before you, her hands move up to cup your face.
“Did you know,” she murmurs, “that I’ve always thought you were one of the prettiest females in all of Windhaven?” A soft scoff leaves you, but before you can glance down, she’s holding your face firmly. “I mean that — even when Azriel brought you to the cottage that very first time, and you were covered in dirt and mud, your hair all knotted, a leaf or two in there — you thanked me for feeding you, and you gave me a smile that was just like…sunshine. Such a rare thing in Windhaven. I remember thinking, this girl deserves to smile like that, always.”
A single tear spills down your cheek, and Roza wipes it away. She definitely looks like she might start bawling, too — a rare thing for her.
“I know you were never given much of a chance to feel worthy.” She whispers. “Your mother abandoning you…your father taking your wings…they were the two people who were supposed to love you more than anyone, and they broke you and left you broken.”
“You put me back together.” A lump in your throat fractures your words. “You and Rhys and Azriel and Cassian. Your love—”
“My little dove, you put yourself back together. We just loved you through it. I just want you to know that…I just want you to remember, the next time you feel worthless, that you are beautiful, and you have always been beautiful. You’re strong, and spirited, and determined. You have a resolve like no other I have ever seen, and you can do anything — which is why I know you will achieve whatever it is you’re planning with Fin.”
Only then does your gaze drop. “I only wish to appeal myself to him enough that he’ll value my opinion — that this Fenlaros business cannot go ahead. But I still feel awful…he’s your mate.”
“Gods, in the loosest definition, Y/N.” Her hands move to yours, then, liking them together. “Believe me when I say that if it weren’t for my children, I’d never see that male again. I think you know that I do not hold him in high regard.”
“I do know. But I respect you and care about you more than anyone in the world. And if you feel even a shred of discomfort about what I’m doing, I’ll stop. I’ll find another way—”
“The only discomfort I feel,” she squeezes your hands gently, “is at the thought of any harm coming to you. But I’ll feel that way through everything you do in life, because I love you. I also feel awe, because you’re brave and brilliant, and you’re doing what’s right. What I will teach this little girl,” she places your hands on her swollen belly, “to do — to stand up against what is wrong, and do so without a lick of shame.”
“I’ll protect her with my life, you know — the babe. I’ll love her unconditionally.”
“And she will love you, my dove, just as I do. So,” she steps back, eyes your dress again. A smile curves her lips. “Do whatever it is you have to do, Y/N, to change Fin’s mind — you have my full support. I only ask three things of you.”
Your expression softens. Anything — you’d do anything for her. “Of course, Roz.”
“First, don’t get caught with your scheming.” She says. “And second — you may feel like murdering Fin. Gods, believe me, I get it. But please do refrain. He’s my children’s father, after all, and Rhys isn’t ready to be High Lord just yet.”
You breathe a laugh, dipping your chin. “No murder. Got it. And the third thing?”
Roza steps up to you, her fingers finding the beautiful, jewelled material that clings to you like a second skin. She smiles.
“Go to that ball,” her fierce eyes meet yours, “and show everybody there that your father didn’t take one bit of beauty away from you.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
You pace the length of your room. Back and forth, back and forth. You’re restless tonight.
Day after day is swept behind you like the snow that blankets the mountains. Time is a racing thing. Starfall is fast approaching, and thus, so is the ball. But you still feel as though you can’t get a good read on Fin’s thoughts.
No matter how many dinners you share with him, how many walks through the city streets you take together, the shows you watch in the Rainbow…he does not offer you the candidness with which he spoke through that very first conversation in his study. Any attempts to talk about Tathaln, about Fenlaros, are promptly diverted. He wants to talk about you — wants to know you.
It feels like the opportunity to stop this shit show in its tracks is slipping through your fingers, and you can’t grab hold of it, pull it back.
So instead of sleeping, you think, and you pace, and you—
Gods, you just want to see Azriel.
How much space, you wonder, is enough space? You have respected his needs, have kept to Velaris, given him time to confront his innermost thoughts and feelings. But you don’t know how long he needs, and right now…right now, all you want is to see him. Look into his eyes. Hear that soft, quiet voice telling you that everything will be okay.
You need to know if he’s made a decision about Fenlaros. You’ve tried not to think about it, not to dwell on the possibility that he could choose to run from his feelings over embracing them. But the longer the silence stretches on…the more you find that hole in your heart gaping, threatening to swallow you whole.
You pace more and more, up and down in time to the ticking of the clock. It’s a wonder you haven’t worn a track through the carpet. You don’t know why you’re suddenly so antsy, but perhaps if you could just talk to Az, some of your worries could be allayed—
Before your thoughts can catch up with your body, you’re tearing through the drawers in the desk, scrambling for paper, a pen. Practically throw yourself into the chair. A letter — a letter will do the trick—
But you don’t know what to write.
You stare at the blank parchment like the words will simply appear by your willing. They don’t.
A love letter? No, no, not a love letter. Just a letter to…to remind him that you are still here. That you are reason to stay in Windhaven, and you think you could be reason enough.
Azriel… you picture him as you crawl his name. His honey-golden eyes and his silken hair. The sharp bone structure that could slice through paper, the full lips. The memory of how those lips feel is fading, and you want — need — it back. Your pen pauses, hovers at the parchment, and those lips are all you can think of, the urgency with which you crave them.
Azriel, you write again, I want to see you. I need you, too—
A soft knock lands on the door, and the pen clatters against the desk where you drop it.
The clock has just timed three in the morning — the knock is an unexpected obtrusion in the dead of night. One that makes you anxious.
But a second knock comes, and you shove the parchment and pen back into the drawer, scrambling to your feet. Perhaps it’s Roza — the more the pregnancy progresses, it’s not unusual for her to wake up in the night with need for something. You hurry over and tug it open.
Fin stands on the other side, looking…unkempt. His hair is mussed, like he’s been dragging his fingers through it. The first few buttons on his shirt have been undone, and a glimpse of a fine, chiselled chest peeks out. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He looks as though he hasn’t been to bed.
He drinks in the sight of you in your nightgown, bathed in the room’s glow. He swallows. “Forgive me, I…I saw your light on. Thought you might be having trouble sleeping again.”
You incline your head. “I was.” You admit. “…And you?”
“Too much in my head to even attempt it.”
You’re not sure what to reply with, how to help. Fin watches you closely like…like he needs to. Like gazing at you brings him comfort.
You are treading a very, very dangerous path. But you shift on your feet and ask him, “Would you like to come in?”
A tiny nudge of a smile pulls one side of his mouth up. “I was actually wondering if you’d allow me to take you somewhere.”
Your eyes widen a little. The surprise isn’t for show, and it seems to please him. “Right now?”
“The City of Starlight doesn’t sleep. Ever.”
A fact you’ve learned all too well during your stay here. There’s always some sort of activity, something going on that sends a constant pulsing through the city streets. For some reason, you hadn’t imagined Fin to be a participant in the night life.
“It’s somewhere I go when I can’t sleep.” He explains, as though you’ve spoken your thoughts loud and clear. “I think you’d like it. And from one insomniac to another, I…I would be honoured to share it with you.”
How can you possibly say no to that? For all Fin is mysterious, for all he keeps his cards tightly pressed against his chest, you truly believe that he finds a strange sort of solidarity in this one affliction that burdens you both. You may have wildly different reasons for pacing your room at night — and you’re not sure he’ll ever tell you his — but when the world is too quiet and thoughts are too loud…there’s comfort in knowing that somebody else is staring down those early hours, also.
It almost makes him seem…normal.
And perhaps that’s why you offer him a dazzling smile that isn’t entirely disingenuous. “From one insomniac to another,” you say, “I’d love to come with you.
The way his eyes light up makes you wonder if you’ve played your role, appealed yourself to him, a little too well. “Then I’ll wait here while you get dressed.”
You incline your head. “I’ll just be a moment.”
He waits patiently as you change from your nightgown into warm clothes that will shield you from the freezing night air. With no indication of where you might be going, a sweater and breeches and boots seems like the safest bet. You sweep your hair out of your face and shrug the weariness from your bones. When you emerge from the room, Fin’s gaze traces you like you’ve donned an evening gown and not the thickest layers you could fine.
“I find you so very intriguing.” He comments unexpectedly, and you’re not sure what he means.
You plaster a smile on your face, all the same. “Where are we going, Lord of the Night?”
Heat stokes his hickory eyes, and he looks as though he’s actually trying to tamp down on a broad smile. “It’s a surprise.”
You hold a hand out. He takes it. “Then surprise me.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
 “Tilt your head up.” The instruction comes from close behind you. Near enough that a warm breath tickles the back of your neck. You dutifully obey. “Now, open your eyes.”
Your eyelids flutter open slowly, cautiously. What you’re met with has your next breath catching in your throat.
A dome of starlight arcs high above you. The twinkling jewels in the sky feel almost close enough to reach out and touch, and they shine brilliantly through the glass roof, an occasional transient one cartwheeling its way past in pursuit of another place.
You can only stare. Gape. Your feet move forward a couple of steps, but your face remains tilted upwards.
You were in this building only a couple of evenings before, but it had been so packed, then, so filled with music and chatter and laughter and activity, that you hadn’t noticed what sat above your head. You’d been far too enamoured with the performers, their poetic verses and fluid dances, the tragic climax that had brought you to tears.
Now, the largest theatre in Velaris’s rainbow is empty and bathed in darkness, broken only by silvery moonlight. You and Fin are the only two here. And standing on the gargantuan stage, a mass of empty, folded seats staring back at you, you have the perfect view of the night sky that gives a performance all of its own above you.
There are soft footsteps, and Fin is also stepping forward, stopping at your side. “In over nine centuries, I’ve never tired of that sight,”
You shake your head, a little dazed. You’re lost for words. “I can see why.”
“There is so much unexpected, so much chaos and burden, in being High Lord. But no matter what I may face, what choices I make, and what reactions they receive…there will always be the night sky and its stars.”
Only then do you remove your gaze from the domed glass ceiling — to drink him in and wonder how many layers deep his true heart lies. This male who is as cunning and cruel as he is handsome and charming. How many dimensions does he have that you’ve never stopped to consider?
“I know it doesn’t exactly support the imagine of a calculated High Lord who shouldn’t be crossed.” Fin says, staring had at the surface of the stage whilst a wry smile graces his lips. “Sneaking off to an empty theatre in the dead of night when sleep evades me. But I find…peace here.”
You eye the ginormous building around you, dipped in shimmering moonlight and the shadows of twinkling stars. All those empty seats, the vacant orchestra pit, the stage that has trapped so many beautiful voices and words, guided so many dances and echoed so much beautiful music. There’s a haunting loneliness to the desolation. And you can’t help wondering if…if Fin relates to that, somehow.
When you snap out of your thoughts, you find he’s moved again. Now, he sits on the very edge of the stage, legs hanging down and palms bracing him. He stares out at the rows and rows of red velvet seats, not one of them disturbed by a spectator.
You’re moving before you tell yourself to. Sitting at his side and tucking your legs beneath you. You spend a short time in still silence, but the heaviness of the High Lord’s thoughts seems to spread to every corner of the building.
“When you brought me here the other night,” you angle yourself towards him, “it was my first time in a theatre — ever. I never saw a show before.”
A very slight frown pinches Fin’s features.  He seems to consider that. “One of my flaws, Y/N, I have to admit, is that I often forget that there’s a world outside of my privilege. That people lack where I never will.” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. “Roza was right to take Rhysand to Windhaven. He’s grown with a humility that I very much do not have.”
You snort softly. “I spend a lot of time with your son, My Lord. I assure you he’s just as capable of arrogance. I’ve kicked his ass a good few times because of it.”
A quiet laugh rasps from him. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that.” He pauses, and then his elbow is gently nudging you. “I told you, anyway — it’s Fin. I consider us to be friends. Don’t you?”
In some ways, you really do. Ans what a lying, using, devious little friend you are.
Especially as you scoot closer to him. And you’re softening your features and staring openly at him.
You don’t miss the way his gaze falls to your lips.
“I do.” You say, and he lifts his eyes to yours again. “And as your friend, I’d like to know what weighs so heavily on your mind tonight.”
His mile falters. And you don’t want to lose him, to let the moment slip away from you. You quickly grab his hand before he can tense up.
“I want you to talk to me…” You make your voice soft as butter, sweet as honey. “I like talking to you, Fin.”
There’s a beat. A tense one. And then his body is loosening, relaxing, his eyes becoming infinitely warmer.
His hand wraps around yours, the pad of his thumb tracing your nail. “I like talking to you, too.” He admits, and pauses again. “…War is…a great likelihood, Y/N.”
It’s your turn to go still, then, to tense up. Icy cold surprise bolts through you. That…isn’t what you were expecting.
“War?” You breathe, your mind already conjuring images of your friends on a battlefield. “With whom? When?”
“I do not know when. It could be in a year’s time; it could be in a decade. That all depends on how long it takes for humans to rise up and rally against our kind.”
“Humans?”
“There has been more and more pushback, in recent years, from humans. Humans who are enslaved by our kind and are sick of it. More and more of them are beginning to stand up against it, to protest how they’re forced to live. They’re willing to go to war over it. I don’t know when or where, but they will. In years to come, they will.”
“As they should.” You sit up straight. Perhaps it’s the wrong thing to say, but you don’t care. “They should revolt. I think it’s barbarous, the way our kind treat them. Their purpose is not to serve us. They have just as much right to live freely as we do.”
You mean it, mean it with your whole heart. You know what it’s like to be used for somebody’s personal gain, what it’s like to have freedom always lurking just out of reach. And you’ve heard about the treatment of enslaved humans. Most would rather die that live under the cruelty of their fae masters. That the practice hasn’t been outlawed utterly sickens you.
Fin says nothing for a while. His hand continues to hold yours. His eyes drink you down with a muted intensity. Like this is the first time he’s ever really taken you in.
“I agree.” He murmurs, much to your surprise. “And when war comes — and it will, and I’m preparing for it — when war comes, I will fight alongside the humans. To liberate them.”
You look at him, then — a male who has lived for almost a millennia, but doesn’t look a day over forty. Who is so universally feared, who carries a reputation for things you can’t even bear to consider. You will not fool yourself into believing that the darkness hides an inner light, or that the cruelty is a front. He is not soft and he is not kind.
But perhaps he’s not totally bad, either. That he would put himself in the firing line for the liberation of innocent humans…it has to speak somewhat to his character.
It almost makes you regret your scheming, your manipulating.
Before you can muster a response, the High Lord is leaning closer. Your body tenses as his face stops inches away from yours.
“You need not be afraid of me, Y/N.” He whispers. “I find you…magnificent. I like that you don’t filter yourself in front of me, that you’re not afraid to speak your true thoughts and feelings.  You…you are an asset. Worth so much more than you’ve ever been given credit for.”
Your gaze dips, cheeks burning at the compliment. “I don’t know about that—”
“I mean it.” His finger hooks under your chin, soothing the skin there. “Magnificent.” He repeats, and he’s leaning in closer, closer, until his lips are coasting your flushed cheek. The kiss he presses there is cold in contrast, but you have no chance to react as his mouth brushes its way to the shell of your ear and lingers there. “Absolutely brilliant. And do you know what?”
“…What?”
“After the ball is over,” his breath tickles your ear, “I’m going to bring you back here, to this stage. And those stars above our heads will watch as I strip you bare and fuck you hard enough to shake the building.”
It takes every morsel of your resolve not to start at the words. You release a shaky breath — one that makes you seem eager, responsive. It’s convincing enough that you don’t think you’d be out of place up here on this stage.
Thankfully, you don’t have to drag words from your spinning thoughts. Fin lets go, and he pulls back, rising to his feet.
“But until then,” he holds a hand out for you, “there is much to be done. Starting with you and I getting a good night’s sleep.”
You wear a mild smile as you allow him to pull you up. “A girl can dream.”
“And so can a High Lord.”
You don’t say much else to each other as he tugs you close and spirits you back to his palace. You are both pensive, and you are both tired.
But when he bids you goodnight outside your bedroom and strolls off to his own, sleep seems further away than ever. You’re thinking too much at once. Humans. War. Fin. Azriel.
You still desperately want to see Az, talk to him.
You dig back into the drawer, meaning to retrieve the letter you’d started to write.
But your hand merely knocks against wood, and the letter is gone.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
You’re tempted — to write another letter, or note, or…whatever. You don’t even know what became of the first, unfinished one, whether it made its way to Azriel or not.
But days pass, and you…you begin to lose your nerve a little. Perhaps it’s better to live in ignorance for as long as possible than know, either way, what Azriel is thinking. Choosing. Can’t help feeling that the more time pedals on without a word…the worse the outcome will be.
Distractions help. But tonight, it would seem, there are none. And it’s strange, because everything around you is bathed in luxury, in excellence, but you find yourself missing the stripped back simplicity of Windhaven. The crumbling cottages, the mead hall, the rough-and-tumble way of life. There’s always something happening in that harrowing place, something to keep you occupied. As you stare down an evening in a huge, mostly empty palace, you’re actually struck by your longing for it. Both Roza and Fin are busy. Mor is away. Only the mountains and the distant sounds of the city are your companions tonight.
And once again, your thoughts take you to Azriel.
You think maybe this need for him is getting out of hand. And maybe it’s just the sugar-sweet things that Fin has been speaking into your ear, the knowledge that deep down, there’s only one person you want to make such promises to you—
No. It’s not just that. Not just a pathetic influence of suggestive words. It’s a need.
You need Azriel.
Your closest friend. Your safety blanket. The male who saved you and brought you into the fold of a loving, supportive unit. You stared down awkward adolescence together, faced such trying times by each other’s sides.
And you need him.
Your heart, your body, your skin, is hot and heavy with it. Restless. Like the craving is pulling you apart from the inside.
You need to do something, anything, to occupy yourself; take a late-night stroll, read a book. Anything to stop you from staring at the ceiling and being eaten alive by the fire that scorches your veins.
You’re so desperate to get moving that you don’t bother to grab a jacket — just shove your feet into your shoes. A spring mildness has blanketed the city, anyway. You’ll be fine. You just need to move—
But you yank your bedroom door open, and Azriel is on the other side.
His beauty punches you straight in the gut.
He’s a vision, stood there in casual clothing, a note — your note — clutched in his hand. He takes in the sight of you just as hurriedly.
“What are you doing here,” you breathe.
He opens his mouth. Closes it. His eyes rove you again, and he swallows. “I got your note.” He answers. “I wanted to see you, too, and…the High Lord summoned Rhys, Cass and I here…to warn us to be on our best behaviour at the ball.”
You can’t say anything. Can’t speak. You just gawk like a godsdamned fool.
A strange concoction of a frown and a laugh comes from Az. “I…snuck away after…to come here—”
Before you even know what you’re doing, your hand is bunching in the front of Azriel’s shirt, and you’re dragging him into the room with all your strength. He looks bewildered as you shove the door shut behind him.
“Az, have you lost your mind?” You round on him. “If Fin knew you’d come to my room—”
“He isn’t here.” He cuts you off. “Cass went straight back to Windhaven, and Rhys knew I wanted to see you, so…he’s currently having quality family time with Roza and his father in the city.”
There’s a lot to unpack. But all your mind wants to zero in on is that one little sentence — Rhys knew I wanted to see you.
Pathetic, how your entire stomach flips.
“…You call him Fin?”
It takes a moment for your mind to catch up enough to understand Azriel’s question.
“We’ve been living under the same roof.” You shrug slowly. “I…guess he got tired of me using his title.”
Az stares at you, assessing. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, but you fidget under the intensity of his gaze.
“What is it?” You ask him.
“I’m worried about you. I know he’s taking you to the ball. I don’t want you playing his games.”
You purse your lips. “…That why you snuck here to my room, Az? To give me a warning—”
“I came here because you said you wanted to see me, and I want to see you, too.”
So open — for him. So straightforward that for a beat, you’re not sure how to react.
But then you’re moving, and so is he, and your bodies slam together in a tight, long-awaited embrace. Feeling his arms wrap around you is…everything. Everything you’ve missed and longed for. Everything you will ever long for. Whatever happens…Azriel is the only thing you’ll need, when all is said and done.
And that’s why you’re suddenly crying, clinging to him.
On instinct, Azriel’s arms tighten around you. He moves a hand up to cradle the back of your head, and he whispers, “Y/N…”
“Please don’t leave Windhaven.” The words choke out of you. “Please, Az, just…don’t go to Fenlaros. Please—”
“Y/N. Look at me.”
Tears and all, you do. You remain as close to him as you possibly can as you lift your head to meet his eyes.
You don’t know how you know, but you do — from that one, heavy stare, you can tell that things have changed. That he has changed. He looks like the same, stunning male that you’ve always admired, but something else sits on his face.
Emotion.
Determination.
Fire.
He opens his mouth. Takes a slow, shuddering breath that you feel through every inch of your body. And then he says, with utter clarity, “I’m not going anywhere.”
You almost break all over again. But he keeps talking, keeps sharing.
“I love you. No — I’m in love with you. I love you more than I can put into words. I want you and only you, and I’m not leaving you. The only reason I would ever walk out of that camp is if you were by my side, and we were leaving together.”
You are…weightless. Boneless. Held up only by Azriel’s arms. A tear rolls down your cheek, and you allow it to fall to the carpet.
“My handling of my feelings,” Az stares down at you, “has been one huge fuck up. I loved you long before you offer to let me practice intimacy on you. Experiencing those things with you…the things you made me feel…only brought those feelings to the surface. And instead of facing them as I should have done, I hid behind Kaeda to avoid them. But it was never about Kaeda. It was always you. It will always be you. And I’m scared, Y/N, I’m fucking terrified. But I’m done running. Done hiding.”
Silence sweeps into the room on swift wings, and you are suddenly incapable of thought, and of somehow turning it into words. Without Azriel’s voice to distract you, you’re aware of the tremors that wrack through his body. As though this is the scariest thing in the world to him, and he’s trying to hold strong against it.
It probably is.
He studies you closely. Croaks out, “Please say something.”
And perhaps it’s giving him the wrong impression entirely, but you’re stepping out of his arms and putting space between you. You just…need to gather your thoughts. To remember how to speak.
“I…” You blink. “I handled it badly, too.”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“I made selfish choices. I…I acted out of jealousy because I wanted you, but you and Kaeda were…”
He shakes his head resolutely. “What I told you before was true. I never touched Kaeda like that. Even before I found out about all that Fenlaros shit, I think I knew that I wouldn’t. That I couldn’t.”
A fact that breaks your heart. Your eyes fill with tears again. “But I still did. Cass and I—”
“Cassian was there for you when I should have been, and I had no right — none — to react the way that I did. If anyone did anything wrong that night, it was me. But what you and Cass did…it does not matter. Not one bit.”
You’re pivoting on the spot, turning your back to him, before you can crumble entirely. He really means it. Really does not hate you for the choice you made, even though it hurt him.
“Y/N,” Az’s voice shakes behind you. “Please…look at me.”
Now you’re confronted with the situation, part of you wants to run — to hide.
But Az is being open. Honest. No matter how hard, how terrifying it is for him…he’s here. He’s trying.
And so you’ll try, too. And you think you might be shaking just as much as he is as you turn back to him.
The two of you stare at each other. Feel the situation out with your gazes alone.
Azriel is the one to break the extended silence.
“You said you need me.” He eyes you. He’s visibly trembling all over, and it has nothing to do with the chill in the room. Trembling like he’s trying to hold himself together against the weight of the situation.
“…Yes.” You swallow. “I do, Az…I think I’ve always needed you.”
“So show me.”
You pause. Blink, your eyes blown wide. “What?”
“Show me how you need me.” He steps closer, and though he’s shaking, he outreaches a hand and find yours. “Show me how to give you what you need.”
Your fingers brush his, and you’re forcing a lump down your throat. Drinking him in. He…he’s exquisite. “You mean…”
“I mean,” the gap is closed between your bodies, and his heat is reaching you, “I don’t want to practice. I want it all…everything…with you. I want you to take me. Only you—”
You’re surging forward with so much pent-up need that when your lips collide with Azriel’s, it almost knocks you both to the floor.
But Azriel’s arms are banding around you, and he’s a pillar against you, kissing you back with just as much heat.
You don’t know which of you makes what move. Your hands are all over him, and his are all over you, and he’s walking you backwards and groaning as the kiss deepens.
You find the hem of his tunic, dip your hands under, fingertips skating warm skin that shudders beneath your touch. “Can I take this off?” You murmur, and he swallows your words greedily.
“All of it — take it all.”
And so you do. There is no method to it. You’re a woman starved and crazed as you tear at his clothing, not caring about where it ends up, so long as it’s no longer on him. More and more tan skin is exposed, more muscles, more scars. And when he kicks out of his boots and breeches and his underwear is the only remaining barrier, you’re reaching for him, for the hardness that’s pushing through the dark grey fabric and taunting you.
But Azriel reaches out an arm to gently stop you. His hand brushes your cheek, and his eyes are pure hunger as he says, “Your turn.”
And it hits you just then that up in until this point, Azriel has never seen you naked — in this capacity, anyway. There have been plenty of non-sexual circumstances over the years in which you’ve gotten a glimpse of each other, but not like this. Even when he began practicing on you, you never took your clothes off.
And you’re fucking nervous. Even more so under the press of his gaze. He looks like he may combust as you slowly move your hands to your shirt and tug the front laces loose. You pull the hem out from where it was tucked into your breeches.
The fabric parts enough that it more or less slides off you and pools on the floor. You do not meet the heavy stare that watches you so closely. You may lose your nerve if you do.
But when the last few items of clothing are off and kicked away from you, and you’re left entirely bare, you hear a sharp intake of breath. Curiosity gets the better of you. You lift your gaze and resist the urge to fold your arms over your chest.
Azriel is staring at you like…like nobody ever has before.
Like you are the rare rays of sunlight that break through the grey landscape of Windhaven. Like the world around you was forged from your own two hands.
Like you’re beautiful, and worthy, and unruined.
“…What is it?” You clear your throat, shifting on the spot.
Azriel shakes out of a daze and takes a single step closer to you. “You are…” His throat bobs, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”
You almost laugh. Almost. But something stops you.
The sincerity in his tone, his eyes. The realisation that he truly means that.
Your eyes travel from his face, down his sculpted chest and stomach. The firm, toned legs and what sits beneath him. You’ve seen plenty of his body naked. But…not all at once.
You think the air might be punched from your lungs.
He’s hard as a rock — from looking at you. The tip of his cock is already leaking moisture. His wings flare proudly at his back.
“So beautiful.” He cups your jaw, guiding your eyes back up to his.
There’s nothing else you can say, in that moment, than the words that tumble from your lips.
“I love you,” you whisper.
Emotion crosses his face, and both hands are gripping your cheeks. He kisses you deeply; so deeply that it steals your breath.
And then he pulls away, and he’s repeating his earlier words, his forehead pressed to yours. “Show me — show me what you need. No games, just…you and me.”
No games, indeed. You cannot wait any longer.
You rise on the tips of your toes and claim his mouth with yours, and you’re guiding him back, back, until his legs are hitting the bed and he’s gladly falling onto it. He sprawls out, watching as you climb over him. As your hand caresses his stomach and moves down.
And when your fingertips brush the head of his cock, a deep, delicious noises rumbles in his throat.
You mop the moisture up with your palm, using it to slick the length of him and slide your hand up and down. He hisses between his teeth, hips jerking, hands bunching within the covers on your bed.
“No games,” he repeats through gritted teeth. “This is about both of us.”
And you know that, and you’re not patient enough, anyway, for foreplay right now.
It dawns on you that there will plenty of time for that.
He is not leaving Windhaven — not leaving you.
You will have experiences together beyond this one night.
And with that very fact warming your heart and making it set to burst, you place your legs either side of his body and stare down at him. His cock brushes against your centre, and he can feel how wet you already are for him. His eyes travel down.
You watch, and you ask him, quietly, “You’re sure about this?”
His gaze flicks up immediately. “I’ve never been surer about anything in my life.” He reaches out a trembling hand and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “That doesn’t mean I’m not nervous — gods, I really fucking am. So scared. I just…want to do it right. To be good for you.”
The sentiment almost brings tears to your eyes. “You couldn’t do it wrong if you tried, Az. Do you trust me?”
“With my whole heart.” He sits up a little — angles himself closer to you. “And I love you with my whole heart, too.”
And that’s all either of you need, isn’t it? Love and trust. The need that exits between you. Everything that is just…yours and Azriel’s relationship in its entirety.
Your eyes remain locked with his as you gently reach down and position his cock at your entrance. He breathes shakily. Doesn’t look away from you once.
Not as you slide down onto him just a little. You pause at the first feel of your walls stretching to accommodate him. A pleasured frown furrows his brow. A moment passes, two, and then you slide down further.
More and more. Sinking onto him. Pausing. Adjusting. With every inch of his huge length that disappears inside you, you feel like every one of your nerve endings is struck by lightning. Azriel’s head lolls back, and he makes a soft noise.
“You’re okay?” You check, hovering over him.
“You feel—” He chokes on his words. “Fuck.”
It’s the encouragement you need to sink the rest of the way onto him. The last few inches slide into you quick, thanks to the slickness that soaks your folds, and then he’s pushed into the hilt and hitting a spot so deep inside you that you can’t stifle the noise that breaks from your throat.
“Did I hurt you?” Azriel gasps, and you can only shake your head. He seems to study your face for confirmation, before he’s pushing up to kiss you.
And you kiss him back. For a moment, that’s all either of you do.
But when he’s losing himself in your mouth, his tongue dancing around yours, seemingly distracted by your kiss…only then do you lift your hips and sink down onto him again. And then you’re falling into a slow, steady rhythm.
Azriel is gasping again, his mouth moving from yours to press kisses to your jaw, your neck, your collarbones — your breasts. As you rock slowly against him, the walls of your pussy squeezing him, coaxing him, he buries his face into your chest and explores you, lips and tongue paying attention to your nipples, teeth grazing with a gentleness that’s almost heartbreaking.
“So beautiful.” He whispers, and the hands that are sitting on your hips travel up your back — up to the scars that live in the place of your stolen wings. “Gods, Y/N, you’re everything.”
You moan, rocking harder on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You just…want to hold him to you, to feel him against you. It’s like it all comes crashing down on you that he very easily could have left.
But he didn’t. He won’t. He is here and so are you. He is yours and you are his.
“Talk to me,” you breathe, raking your nails down his arms. “Tell me how you feel.”
“So good — feels so good with you wrapped around me.”
“Yeah?” You lean down, brush a kiss to his lips. “You like being inside me?”
“There is — fuck — there is no one, Y/N, that I want to do this with, besides you.” His mouth slants over yours, and he whispers two words — take me — before he’s giving himself to your kiss.
He’s so big, so deep. And the blood in your veins feels like molten lava as the pace picks up, as his trembling begins to subside, and he grows more confident. His groans are loud, and his hands roam over your body before finally landing on your hips. Fingertips dig into your flesh with a dizzying bite, and he’s rocking you, encouraging you to take him. To fuck him.
This is not practice. This is two bolts of lighting striking in the same place. The friction between your bodies is perfect, like nothing else you’ve ever felt. The pleasure may just finish you yet. It’s electric. Addictive. You want to feel like this forever, with him.
And more pleasure floods you as in one swift move, he flips you over — takes you entirely by surprise. You’re landing on your back, and he’s hovering over you. He stills as he stares down at you.
“This is perfect.” He says, dipping down to kiss you again. It makes him move inside you suddenly, and the different angle has you both gasping into each other’s mouths. “Gods.”
“Fuck me, Az.” You moan. “Just like that.”
What starts out slow quickly builds in pace. The roll of Azriel’s hips become thrusts — and the moans, the cries, the words that leave you, all guide them to be deeper, harder. You think you could stay like this forever, with him buried inside of you, wringing pleasure from every corner of your body. It snakes through your veins and zips up your spine, and when his hand travels down and his fingers find your clit, you fucking explode.
You cry out, bucking up from the bed as your orgasm hits you full force. Azriel fucks you through it, and his groans are growing louder, more desperate, as the walls of your cunt clench around him. He breathes out a fractured, desperate noise, leaning down to brush his lips over yours as he fucks into you harder.
“I can’t last much longer.” He chokes around his pleasure, pressing quick, nipping kisses to your mouth. “I can’t—”
“Come for me.” You gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “Come inside me.”
The noise that your words coax from him is downright sinful. He grabs your hips in his hands, slants his mouth over yours. He slams into you again, again, again, and then he’s roaring his pleasure with enough force to shake the bed, and you feel every rope of come that he spills into you.
You’re trembling. Or maybe that’s him. Or both of you. Both slick with sweat, and both shaking, and both unable to hold yourselves up any longer.
Azriel collapses beside you, his body still tangled with yours. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths heating your skin. You sink a trembling hand into the strands of his hair.
“That was—” His voice hitches, “I can’t…can’t put it into words.”
Neither can you. It’s all you can do to nod as you catch your breath.
“Thank you.” A kiss is pressed against your neck. Another. Az’s arm drapes over your chest, and he moves his mouth to yours. “Thank you.”
Still void of words, you settle on kissing him. Deep. Slow. Unhurried. Your hand cups his cheek, and your tongue strokes into his mouth. Lays out a litany of sentiments that you’re currently incapable of verbalising.
It feels like you kiss each other forever. But then you’re pulling back, pressing your foreheads together. And you stare into Azriel’s eyes as you tell him once again, “I love you.”
Emotion floods his eyes, and he holds you as close to him as he possible can, murmuring onto your mouth, “I love you, too. I think I always have.”
You know you always have. You tuck yourself into his side, content to feel his skin against yours. The rest of the world floats away. There is nothing and no one but you and him. Your Azriel.
Your eyes are growing heavy when he brushes his lips against your forehead, and he whispers the words you’ve needed to hear for so, so long.
“Whatever happens, Y/N,” another kiss joins the first, “you and I will face it together.”
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wannaeatramyeon · 14 days
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How Lookism men confess to YOU they've caught feelings
G/N. Soft. Fluffy. All that good stuff. (Gun, Jake, Goo, James Lee/DG, Johan, Vin, Samuel, Eli, Ryuhei)
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Gun opts for somewhere private, just the two of you. Whether that's his home, yours, or somewhere only you both know.
He tells you with certainty his feelings for you. That there's no point divulging if he didn't think it would work out, if you weren't better together.
Intensity radiates from him. His words, eyes, aura. He keeps his confession simple and to the point, unexpectedly romantic with how matter of fact he is.
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Jake thought he was being subtle, but there's a lot of prying eyes in the shadows.
He shoos the Big Deal members away in his best authoritative, no nonsense boss tone. The one he reserves to deal with serious matters. Which this is. Of utmost seriousness.
Behind his beaming toothy grin and confident stance are anxious eyes. His words are cheesy and well-rehearsed. Sincerity pulses through his every fibre, leaving you starry eyed and breath hitched.
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Goo announces his feelings with a grin on his lips.
Corners you somewhere crowded, at a completely inappropriate moment. But of course. It's only inappropriate if Goo deems it to be so, and there's no time like the present.
The words are said lightly, like he could play it off as a joke any moment. His ego too fragile for rejection. But his carefree attitude is off kilter, body language tense. Gaze steady and more serious than you have ever seen.
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James is flippant. The arrogant, cocky man claims you as his already. Confesses without any doubt in his mind that rejection could happen, or it could sting.
He's not a gambling man. Only plays when the odds are in his favour and the gains far outweighs the losses.
There's no ifs or buts. Talks about 'us' and 'we' and a future where you're by his side.
.
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Johan pulls out the words reluctantly and when you least expect. Like they will choke him if he keeps it from you any longer.
He says it without looking at you. Eyes fixed on the ground, a point in the distance, Miro, Eden, anywhere but you.
Brows knitted together, hands white knuckled. A second away from running away. But he needs to tell you, he has to. The words are too big to swallow down anymore.
.
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Vin peppers his confession with insults and half-jokes. A type of self defence to spare his heart.
Hands in pocket, like it's no big deal. Words spilling out, trying to inject indifference into them. Back against the wall, peering over at you. 
Sunglasses firmly on, eyes shielded. Because he can't bear to be any more vulnerable than he has to right now. His words are barbed and prickly, but his feelings are completely bared.
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Samuel offers his heart in between lofty promises and delusions of grandeur.
Words murmured against the back of your hand, breath ghosting over your skin. Eyes fixed on yours, fiery and almost challenging you to say no.
But a relentless phantom haunts him, one that he silences over and over again.
-That being by his side won't be enough, that offering you to be his queen is inadequate, lacking and there's so much more that you deserve.
Still, he promises you the world and is committed to giving you nothing less.
.
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Trepidation lines Eli’s words. Like he can’t believe he’s here again. After everything that has happened, with everything on his plate.
He’s forced himself to make room for you, carved out a part of his life.
He confesses in a cramped dusty room in Hostel. Sat opposite one another on rickety uneven chairs, so close your knees are touching and there’s no personal space left. 
Body leaning forward, craving your touch and proximity as he rids the last remnants of hesitancy and takes a leap of faith.
.
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Ryuhei tells you over and over again.
Until it becomes a daily mantra of sorts for him, and part of your day for you. At first as a joke, or at least you thought so. And then his earnestness snowballed until you could no longer ignore it.
He confesses, with the same sort of childish joy he always feels when he's with you. Tonight, his blood is thrumming in his vein and his pulse is beating in his ears.
With a hushed voice and hope in his eyes: he tells you once more.
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LIKE A GOOD GIRL
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Pairing - Cillian Murphy x fem!reader
Summary - You're Cillian's assistant and he doesn't take it well when you ask him for some time off to go away with your boyfriend.
Warnings - Dark, stalker themes, obsessive, hand job, p in v, threatening, manipulation, naive.
Word count - 2.8k+
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It started off with an unwitting smile on his lips, a new encounter that was able to make him feel more jovial when the intention was to purely oversee your concentrated work performance. A simple yet strict questionnaire which should have taken no more than 30 minutes turned into almost 2 hours of discussions with both of your joys and ambitions in life. Throughout the whole interaction, his blue eyes carefully lingering over your body, admiring the mix of proper and teasing that was your pencil skirt and blouse tucked in your tight fitted blazer. 
Mentally, Cillian hired you on the spot, but he had to make it seem more professional. So he waited until the next day to bear the good news. Shamelessly, he was awake all night replaying your encounter and widely smiled with excitement about how he was to have you as his assistant. 
Denial, complete denial Cillian was in about his obsession with you. You were just his assistant, nothing more but certainly nothing less. Your performance was exceptional, his schedule never overwhelmed him anymore and you created pathways for him to experience the greatest opportunities for his career and overall happiness. 
He dreamt of your curves, soft hair, luscious lips and mesmerizing eyes at night. Moaned out your name in his sleep as he humped the bed in vision of you being beneath him. Everytime he would wake to be hot and bothered, but he always blamed his hormones and lack of intimacy with his busy lifestyle. 
You were kind, innocent, thoughtful, selfless and fucking naive. Images of you bent over the desk, on top of him in the backseat or trapped under him always played in his mind. Sometimes he would find himself lost in your lips, immensely staring at their movements and the mental begging to have them wrapped around his length. 
When you’d ask if he was alright he’d blink back to reality and assure you he was. It always went over your head, you’d always tell him to lay down and rest up. But that was the last thought on his mind, as there were much more sinister things he wished to do, to you specifically.  
It was a consuming job, you knew it before you signed up for it. You’ve had your experiences in this league but never knew the lengths or how tiring and restrictive it could be at times. Cillian had a busy job, he suggested it was best if you always accompanied him (even though a lot of the time you could work from home). So you were always booking the next flight out. But Cillian was a kind boss, he’d always promise a night together each week to help the both of you to unwind. Always in some secluded restaurant or sometimes he’d even cook for you at home. 
Your relationship developed like quicksilver, sometimes you’d be on the phone call until late at night because secretly he just wanted to hear your voice. Working for him showed you how lonely an actor’s life could really be. Never getting a break to catch up with family or friends. You were thinking of organizing some time alone for him to relax, he deserved it. 
Innocent, it was always innocent encounters in his eyes. The line was never crossed by him. He kept his urges locked up, not because of the fear that it would be a public relations nightmare but because he feared he would eat you whole if he let himself have a taste of you. 
Sometimes Cillian would ask you to do the most bizarre tasks just to remind himself how dedicated you were to him. It was nice to remember how much control he really had over you. His heart would swoon whenever you’d surprise him on set with the food he was craving the night before, simultaneously to his cock twitching in his pants. Every time he’d have to rush off to the bathroom to jerk off his primitive urges to devour you right there in front of everyone.
It was almost midnight, and here you were, helping Cillian turn the house upside down for his passport. He had misplaced it and felt overwhelmed with not being able to find it before your flight tomorrow.  
The pair of you had checked all rooms of the house, you suggested backtracking his steps but it wasn’t much help. When you were in the kitchen, he slipped his passport out of his jacket pocket, a small smile on his lips. 
“Found it!” Cillian called out, smiling like a deviant teenager. 
Shortly after, your footsteps were heard as you approached his study. “Where was it?” You asked as your head poked around the corner, a relieved expression settling in. 
“Underneath my script” he lied perfectly. 
“Oh” you murmured, eyebrows scrunching slightly. You could have sworn you checked there. 
Cillian raised his watch to his eyesight and lightly gasped. “Gosh, it’s so late darling. I didn’t even realize the time” he apologized. You waved your hand to him in a dismissive manner. 
“Oh, don’t stress about it. It’s all a part of the job” you reassured as you softly rubbed your arms, your tired eyes blinking heavily. 
Cillian smiled at you and took a step closer to you. “Did you want to stay the night? I feel so guilty having you drive out here. You can keep your car here and we’ll swing by yours for your luggage” Cillian offered, completely painted with innocence and kindness.
“Oh, no it’s alri-”
“I insist” he flashed a wide smile, his tone trickling of demand rather than hospitality.  
“Okay, sure” you nodded your head in complete agreement. Completely oblivious to the true colors of his offering. 
It wasn’t the first time you’ve stayed over. A couple of times you had too much wine and passed out in his guest bedroom, completely unaware of his lingering dark eyes that stood by the door for hours. He wanted to touch you, he truly did, but was too afraid he’d never be able to stop. So he resulted in pumping his shaft in his trousers, biting his tongue harshly to hold back his moans. 
“I was actually wondering if I could ask you a question” you smiled softly. 
Cillian hummed and gestured for you to continue on and you did. Immediately, Cillian’s stomach was hollowed out. All over a simple, innocent question on your behalf. But, he felt like you had betrayed him, committed treason over your relationship. His body went stiff, blood boiled as teeth almost cracked from how harshly he clenched his jaw. 
Time felt like it went still, as all of these negative emotions fireballed in his mind. 
“So?” You asked, your eyebrow cocked up and sweet smile locked on. 
“Sorry, what was that again sweetheart?” Cillian asked blankly, trying to hide his true thoughts, wanting to pretend that he didn’t know what you just asked in desperate hopes you could read him. Mentally demanding that you correct your mistake but you were still just as naive from the moment he met you. 
“Am I able to have some time off? It’ll be three days max. Samuel really wants to take me away on a surprise getaway, he’s been going on about it for months”
How long have you even had a boyfriend? Cillian never asked, the idea of it was too aggravating for his ego. But you never even mentioned him to Cillian. He thought you guys were closer than that, no he knew you were, how could you hide this from him? 
“Who’s Samuel?” Cillian frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest. 
“Oh! My boyfriend! He admires your work and would love to meet you one day, I think I may have hyped you up too much… But he’s a playwright” you explained yourself in a cheerful manner, almost giggling. 
There was a silence which quickly turned awkward when you noticed his eyes twitch. You cleared your throat and looked away from him slightly as you rubbed your arm anxiously. Cillian took a large step towards you and threw his passport carelessly onto his desk. 
“I don’t think I can approve of your leave” Cillian answered, emotionlessly. 
Perplexity filled your thoughts as the tension quickly brewed in the study. You had to clear your throat once more and awkwardly scratch the back of your neck. 
“Oh, really? Um, can I ask why?” You asked, your voice cracking slightly as he took another step towards you. 
“It just doesn’t sit right with me” he spoke in a low tone. 
“Pardon?” Your eyebrows scrunched at him. 
“I don’t like the idea of not knowing how safe you are, you’re better in my care” he answered simply, shrugging his shoulders lightly. 
You snorted at him and shook your head. It all made sense now, he was just feeling a little too overprotective over you. It made sense, the pair of you had spent so much time together these past few months, you cared for him too. Cillian stood directly ahead of you, looking down to you with a tilted head.
“Cillian, I appreciate the thoughtfulness but I’m a grown adult” you reassured, your hand touched his bicep and he grunted. 
Cillian considered his next argument, nodding to himself when he decided he would say it. “Well maybe I also don’t like the thought of him fucking you” he continued on. 
You hand shot back from his arm and you took a step back, your expression flashed with horror as you stuttered. 
“Sorry?” You whimpered, stepping back every time he took a step closer to you. 
“Why would I allow you to go away to get fucked? Whilst I’m confined here, all alone with nothing but my hand” Cillian frowned, tilting his head further to the left as he quickly moved towards you and blocked the doorway. 
Your footsteps swung around as you found yourself stepping backwards to the desk. 
“Where is this coming from?” you gasped, your hands planted on the wooden edge. 
“Do you know what you do to me?” Cillian asked blankly, his eyes boring into your skull. 
There was no answer from you, so he closed the distance, he gripped harshly onto your wrist and brought your hand to his crotch. A heavy cry escaped your mouth at the stiffness in his jeans. Cillian’s eyes rolled back as he moaned out, his hips flexing forward. 
“Can you feel that?” Cillian moaned, slowly rubbing your hand over the tent in his pants. 
“Cillian” you whined, paralyzed in fear. 
“That’s what you fucking do to me” he grunted, pressing your hand firmly over his erection. 
“M’sorry” you whined pathetically, eyes swollen red with tears as your body trembled. 
Cillian rubbed your heated cheek with his free hand and pouted to you. He tsked at you as he patted your cheek in unison to his sounds, his dark stare frightening. 
“Don’t be sorry… But you have to fix it, okay?” He ordered softly, sweetly. 
“What do you-” you blubbered, knowing what he did imply. 
“Touch my cock baby” he smiled innocently. 
“N-no” you shook your head.
His hand swiftly wrapped around your neck as he pressed you against the desk, you cried out in pain and fear and Cillian grinned at you. The hold around your throat warned you to obey him. 
“You’ll do as I fucking tell you” Cillian growled, his grip tightened as his teeth flared at you. You nodded your head quickly and he released your throat. 
His hands gripped onto both sides of your face, his breath fanned over your mouth as his voice dropped to a whisper. 
“Does he fuck you good?”
“Cill-”
He repeated his words slowly, each one dripping with jealousy and anger. You sniveled under him as he breathed slowly, waiting for your answer as he gently humped his hips against yours. 
“Uh! I don't know” you stammered out. The overwhelming clouds stormed over your thoughts.
“Naughty girl… I thought I made it clear you were mine” he tsked at you. 
His hands fell to your waist, his thumbs rolled circles as he lifted you onto the desk. Spreading your trembling thighs, your skirt raised and his slender digits slid down to your core. 
“Cillian please!” You cried out. But you were too fearful of the outcome of trying to push him off of you. 
“I am your boss, you’ll address me as sir” he demanded, his forehead pressed against yours. 
“S-sir please stop. I’m sorry” you begged as his fingers toyed over your covered pussy. 
“Why did you never tell me huh? Little fucking whore” he spat at you. 
One hand pulled your panties to the side as the other rolled over your wet folds. Biting back your moan, your tears flooded down your flustered cheeks and Cillian grinned at you darkly. 
“Never thought of me at night? Never thought of us?” Cillian taunted, a digit pushing itself into your tight canal.
Shamefully you did, but he was your boss and he was so much older than you. It felt so wrong every time your fingers found its way into your panties when you were all alone in bed. 
“Sir please” you moaned out, your eyes rolled back slightly as you sniffled to him. 
“I think you liked the idea of being mine, but were just too subconscious, am I right?” Cillian cocked an eyebrow to you as he slipped another finger inside of you. 
Your head nodded rapidly as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, your arms wrapped around his back whilst you cried against him. Cillian hummed, gradually picking up the speed inside of you as your moans were muffled and the shaking hold tried to still itself. 
“You’re going to touch my cock, alright? Then I’m gonna fuck you. After that, if you’re a good girl, I’ll eat you out. Maybe before our flight you can suck my cock, eh?” Cillian grinned as he slipped his fingers out of you. 
There was no reply from you as he quickly pushed his pants and underneath to his knees. You were too afraid to look down, but you could feel him stroking his size against your inner thigh. Cillian kissed your ear then nuzzled his nose against your hair. 
Shakingly, one of your hands let go of his back and reached for his length. You squeaked when you felt his firm shaft that dripped of precum. If you didn’t want to look before, you certainly didn’t know, he felt massive, your hand could hardly wrap around the girth. 
“You’re okay sweetheart, just breathe” Cillian coached you as you slowly ran your hand up and down his length. 
Cillian moaned out as you took his advice and focused on your breathing. Blinking back your tears, your thumb rolled circles around his moist tip. As he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his hips jerked forward, his arms holding your body possessively. 
Roughly, he moved you back up further on the table and took his cock back into his hand. Cillian guided your legs around his waist as he ripped your panties in half. You cried out, your arms wrapped around his neck in fear as he lined his cock to your gushing entrance. 
“Need to fuck you” he whined out. 
There was no moment of preparation, he forcefully pressed himself inside of you. Completely bruised himself between your clenching walls after a few thrusts. You cried out, your fingernails unintentionally dug into the skin around the back of his neck. 
“Fuck!” Cillian hissed out. 
Despite how badly he wanted to rest inside of you, his animalistic urges took over his thoughts. At high speed, his thrusts painfully stretched your cunt as you moaned out, panting for a steady breath. Cillian kissed your neck, then bit your neck. His teeth dug into your skin as he desperately wanted to mark you as his. 
“Shit baby, I want to stay buried inside of you forever” Cillian whimpered as his thrusts quickly turned runny. 
Your teeth flared as you tried to blink back your tears. The pressure against your core was growing rapidly as he hit your bundle of nerves repetitively without even trying. Cillian cried out everytime your walls squeezed his cock. 
“Fuck it, gonna fuck you all night. Can’t believe I tried to deny this, deny us. You’re mine, all fucking mine. Ever speak of that fucker’s name again, let alone talk to him, then I’ll ruin you darling. You’ll take care of me during the day and at night, won’t you baby?” Cillian asked, pulling your head back to look at him. 
There was no other choice in the matter, you nodded your head to him as you felt your climax climb to the edge, you’d do as your boss told you to do, like the good little girl the both of you knew you were. 
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lbxbx · 2 months
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Blackmail | KTH
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Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader
Genre: smut, angst. Five shot
Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.
Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever.
next
“He’s probably late over something stupid.” One of the hairstylists huffs blowing her fringe off of her face.
Nothing new really, you’re so sick of hearing her whine all the time, as if she’s not aware of how hectic the schedule is especially during their tour, not only the schedule is all over the place, they usually get sick and exhausted during this time so they do deserve to rest for an hour longer at least.
Of course you rolled your eyes and sometimes you would actually leave the entire room the second she starts whining and radiating negative energy to the entire staff, once she starts nagging, the energy shifts right away since over half of the staff don’t like her.
You were able to manage though and got used to it since you’ve been working with her for a couple years now, you figured out a way to reduce your chances of a headache. The moment she starts whining you take your airpods out of your pocket and put them on, blasting the music really high up and totally caring less if you couldn’t hear people around you.
Your job was quite sensitive, it took you years to get to where you are right now, you had to be there all the time whether it was broadcasts, practice or even listening parties or stupid birthday parties, you were always there with them.
And being with them for a few years now made you all really close, you understand their characters very well and it’s nothing like what people see on TV or their phone screens, they’re still human after all, and most importantly, they’re still men.
It’s four in the afternoon and time is ticking, the concert is supposed to be started by 9 in the evening and they’re still not here, and there was still a sound check and practice that had to be done first, you were really behind on schedule. You see the girls standing up at the same time which makes you lower down the music.
You hear footsteps coming from the end of the aisle and the staff are all on standby which means that they’re finally here, you take your spot near your station and put your airpods back in their case ready to start on Taehyung’s face.
Your work suited his face the best, of course you’d work on everyone’s face if they needed you to cover for someone, but you were really skilled and your talent suited his features the most. You’ve been working on Taehyung for a couple months now.
 He gets into the room and yanks his top off, a view you’re used to the entire time whether it was him or any of them, he throws himself onto the chair and looks at you once before looking at his reflection in the mirror. “How are you?” A forced smile lingers on his face.
“Good, how are you?” You smile under your face mask, he nods his head. “Sleep deprived, but I should make it.”
“Fingers crossed.” You cross your own fingers and put a headband around his head to get his hair off of his face, he’s growing his hair really tall that he’s tying it in a man bun most of the time. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not planning to cut it off.”
He’s smarter than what people think, you giggle and nod. “I think it looks good on you.” You finally pump some primer onto your hand and start dabbing it onto the skin of his face.
You know people envy you for your job, and in fact you’re really happy with it because it pays really well along with other privileges. Their fans probably envy you the most and you know they look really good but you’re not attracted to any of them in any possible way. You spent so much time with them that they feel like colleagues.
After all, you and them work for the same company.
He takes his phone out and dims the brightness as he starts rapidly texting someone, his leg anxiously moving up and down, you’re used to that too, he must be nervous or tired.
It was peak summer and the weather was suffocating, the humidity and the heat together forced everyone to either wear less clothes or constantly keep the air conditioners turned on, but in your case you had to chose both because you cannot stand the heat, and you get really embarrassed if you got sweaty.
And honestly your top was driving you insane, it was really lose that it kept going down your shoulder, and whenever you would move to grab a brush or anything, it would slip down your shoulder and reveal your bra straps, you can’t keep holding onto it the entire time because you needed both your hands while you’re working, so once you adjust your top it would slip back down your shoulders in seconds.
It kept happening over and over before Taehyung notices, a smug smirk sits on his face before he runs his index finger over the collar of your shirt. “I love your shirt.” And you playfully slap his hand off and grab him by his chin to throw his head back, dabbing contour onto his jaw line. “Thank you, I got it when we were in Vegas last year.”
He moves his head down again to look at your plain white top as if it was his first time seeing this excessive amount of skin, he’s totally checking out your tits and cleavage that appeared whenever your shirt fell down your shoulder. “Oh I miss Vegas.”
“You do?” You push his head back again and he finally gives in. “I enjoyed shopping there.”
“Other magical stuff can happen in Vegas if you know what I mean.” He winks at you which makes you force a laugh. “Says the one who spent his entire time at the hotel.”
“Exactly.” He simply agrees before looking around making sure no one is listening before signaling you to come closer and you do, and he whispers. “I spent two nights with four different women.”
You’re used to so many weird things from the seven boys, but this is a first for you. You look around worriedly hoping that no one over heard him, your body tenses and you feel the need to escape this weird topic. “It was an iconic concert though.”
He scoffs before whispering again. “Girl fuck the concert, four different whores in two nights, it was an experience out of this world.”
“Taehyung.” Your voice stern and serious when you stop him. “You know this isn’t allowed, and you’re being a little loud right now.”
He waves his hand before he looks you dead in the eye. “We do this all the time, nothing is not allowed.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s always you men bragging about stuff like that.”
And he even dares to look around the room again. “There are 13 different women in this room right now, I slept with like.. 9 of them.”
Your shirt drops down your shoulder again but you’re too occupied working on the face in front of you that’s been blabbering nonstop about things that are making you severely uncomfortable. “This is totally not okay.”
“Says who.” His eyes pierce through your cleavage. “Sometimes girls beg me to sleep with them, and I can’t let them down can I?”
“You’re lying.” Your fingers start working faster still making sure the makeup that sits on his face is flawless, you’re wishing this conversation would end fast.
“I can show you if you want to.” He raises an eyebrow in challenge and you giggle thinking in your head that he’s totally joking, but he probably isn’t.
“No thanks I’m good.” You finally put on some lip tint and spray his face with a setting spray. “You’re good to go.”
He gets up but his eyes are still focused onto your chest, a little uncomfortable space between you two as he puts his hands in his pockets. “If you still don’t believe me go ask Namjoon or Jungkook, they spent the night with someone and they could probably tell you about it.”
“Why are you insisting on proving it to me?” You frown and walk a step back, “I’m not interested in finding out more.”
He shrugs carelessly. “I wanted to do you a favor, maybe the nine I fucked in this room can finally be ten, by then I’ll have only three left.” He laughs, totally proud of the joke he said, if that’s even considered a joke.
You scrunch your nose and hit his chest playfully, you kind of wished you did it harder though before you tell him. “Shut up, get away.”
He takes another step closer and hooks his finger to the collar of your shirt to reveal your chest that’s only covered with a bra.
“I know the female body really well, and I know women really like having their tits sucked, have you ever had your tits sucked before?”
This time you push him harder and hug your shirt closer to your chest. “You’re crossing the limits Taehyung. Get away.”
He laughs playfully and feigns innocence before tapping your nose. “You’re so cute do you know that? I’ll see you on the break, maybe you should do some thinking until then.”
Mira the hairstylist pushes Taehyung back onto his chair and takes the headband off of his head, you reorganize the makeup into the makeup bag when you overhear him asking her. “Are you feeling better today?”
Mira sounds flustered when she answers him. “Shut up.”
Maybe he did actually fuck over half of the girls around this room, this man is unbelievable.
-
As soon as the first part of the concert ended they moved backstage again to change and have their makeup retouched, you knew he was going to start the awkward talk again so you put your airpods  on and pretended to be listening  to music even if you weren’t. His eyes were  piercing through your entire body the whole time.
He takes out his phone and opens the gallery to purposely open a video he filmed, he could see that you were watching his screen so he turns up the brightness on his phone.
In the video was a naked girl on her knees in front of him, her hands tied behind her back and her makeup was smudged, she was begging him to make her cum . And he was caressing her cheek and  putting his thumb between her lips.
Your facial expressions change and you find yourself cringing, he looks at you and bats his eyelashes. “I told you.”
“Taehyung, this is wrong on so many levels.” You push his face to the side to work on his makeup.
“It isn’t, I promise.” He shakes his head. “I promise you no one will ever know. We can spend a couple nights together and that’s it, no strings attached.”
And you immediately refuse. “Absolutely not.”
“Are you close with any of the girls around here?” He asks and you’re a little taken back at his question. “Yeah?”
“Who?”
“Luna I guess.” You name one of the girls while shrugging and he scoffs, before exiting the video on his phone and scrolling through it to open another video.
In it you see Luna one of your closest friends in the company, blindfolded in a bed and Taehyung’s face is in between her legs as he’s eating her out. Is it really okay to mess around?
“You can’t be serious.” You gasp. “Is it only you or do the other guys do the same?”
“I don’t care, but if you have your eye on someone I could hook you two up together or something.” He shrugs and your jaw visibly  drops. “You are unbelievable Kim Taehyung.”
“Wait until you try me in bed. I’m a fucking god.” He confidently speaks and you’re shocked, you’ve known the man for years but this is totally new for you. “Name someone else.” He exits the video on his phone before you shake your head. “No thanks, I don’t think I wanna see anymore.”
He locks his  phone and leans his head back onto the chair while crossing his arms. “Just think it through and I promise you won’t regret it.”
“It seems to me like you’re the one begging for sex.” You force a smirk, his eyes meet yours for a couple seconds and he mirrors your smirk. “What if I was?”
“You’re getting nothing anyway.” You shrug. “You’re done, get up.”
“Oh I get it.” He remains in his seat. “Are you attracted to someone else? Let me guess, is it Jungkook? All women have something for that jerk.”
“I can’t deny he’s cute. But nope.”
“Is it Seokjin?” He tilts his head. “No, is it Jimin? Do you have a kink for cute guys or something?”
You roll your eyes and turn your head to walk away before he grabs your wrist. “Can you make my lips a little darker please?”
You look around trying to find the lip brush before dabbing some color onto his lips. “I’ve been told that I was good with my mouth, I just care about you so much I feel the need to make you experience it.”
“Oh my god.” You roll your eyes and put the lip brush away, he rises up on his feet while laughing, “Alright I promise I’m done, but I just want you to think it through, you won’t regret it.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t think I’m changing my mind.” You clean up your station, he brushes his entire body against your back and whispers. “Will you be there tomorrow on the episode filming?”
“Well I guess unfortunately I’m always there.” You flinch in your spot and immediately take a step back. “Taehyung please stop touching me like that.”
“Alright.” He takes a step back and whispers. “I have a surprise for you tomorrow, I promise you will love it.”
“Then maybe I should call sick.” You look at his reflection through the mirror, he smirks and high key stares down at your ass, a second away from actually groping it in front of the entire staff and his band mates. “So I’m guessing you don’t like surprises.”
“From you? Nope.” You turn to face him, realizing you’re sandwiched between him and the mirror behind you, “May I?” You clear your throat, trying to find a way to get away from him, he stands next to you and gives you enough space to walk out of the room, his eyes still locked onto your ass, thank god it was summer time and thank god for biker shorts. Taehyung was suffering when he can clearly see the outline of your panties through your shorts and he can’t do anything about it.
Your rejection only makes him insist more and Taehyung grew up spoiled, people got him everything he wanted, and if they didn’t, he made sure to get it in his own way. So your rejection doesn’t really matter to him. He will have you eventually.
Even if you said no.
-
It’s the next day and you were already on the set, luckily one of the other stylist couldn’t make it so you had to work with Namjoon and Jimin instead. You could clearly see Taehyung’s eyes staring at your reflection in the mirror even when he’s three chairs away. You roll your eyes when he winks at you and he even dares to blow a cheap kiss. Your friend Leah who’s been working on his face rolls her eyes too and stands in the way.
“Do you wanna put your lenses on?” You ask Namjoon, he takes one look at the mirror and shrugs. “I don’t feel like putting lenses on, what do you think?”
“You’d look good both ways, but maybe I should put more eye makeup on if you’re not putting lenses on, is that okay?” You fish out another palette and show him the colors and he nods. “Yeah, sounds good.”
“Of course. Y/N’s so good you have no idea.” Taehyung gets up from his chair and walks towards you. “You’re lucky she listens to you, I tried suggesting things to her but she kept saying no.”
Namjoon scoffs and grabs out his phone. “It’s because she’s smart.” Does he know about his friend?
“Don’t you want to know about the surprise?” He puts one of his hands in his pockets and takes a step closer to you, his other hand picking onto your top, even sneaking a look under it.  Practically there was nothing to see, the studio they were filming in was freezing cold so you had an extra layer on. You subtly push his hand away and look back at Namjoon’s face trying to finish him up. It was basically impossible with Taehyung distracting you.
He takes another step closer this time his body almost touching yours as he whispers. “I’ll be waiting for you in the parking lot after we’re done filming, please come.”
You sigh and look at him, this can’t end up will and it won’t. His personality specifically scares you and you could swear the man was bipolar in some sort, when sometimes he’s all flirty and shit, and all of a sudden he claims this character that’s so innocent and cute which doesn’t really suit him.
“I’ll think about it.” You put the brush down and tap Namjoon’s shoulder. “What do you think?”
“It looks great, thank you.” He barely smiles and immediately leaves his chair to go and lay down on the nearest couch. You turn your head back to put the brush back into the makeup bag and Taehyung is still standing there. His eyes still scanning your entire body.
He’s a man with a plan, and honestly he knew exactly how he wants to have you. He scans you head to toe, your hair that he wants to pull on while he’s pounding into you uncontrollably, your lips and neck that he cannot wait to bite into. The way you bite your lip when you’re anxious or when you try to hide a laugh always ignited him.
Your chest, fuck he can easily tell the color of your bras and he even knows when you do your laundry, he knows exactly when are the days you wear on your sports bra, or the days you switched to your black bra that perfectly highlighted your tits. Although he grew to be a fan of your pastel pink bra that makes the color of your skin pop, he admires how the cups hug onto your big tits and this bra’s straps particularly keep sliding down your small shoulders.
He moves down to your waist and hips, the outline of your panties through your pants were like a gift from god to him, he would purposely drop things down on the floor just to watch you pick it back up, and those days would usually end up with him either hooking up with someone just to let it out of his system, or just jerk it off alone in his place.
Your juicy ass is going to be the death of him, he would sometimes sneak into the gym at the company just to watch you jog in your tights, satiating his eyes and scratching an itch inside him just to watch it jiggle right before his eyes.
During their tours he would constantly grab your handbag into his hotel room, making an excuse that your handbags look alike even when they aren’t even remotely close to being similar. He would lock the door right away and rummage through your clothes just to fish out all your panties and jerk off to them, one being around his cock and the other one near his nose and lips, sniffing and inhaling whatever is left onto them of your smell, even though they were washed, but he convinced himself that this is how you smell. It was really erotic.
And before you notice your bag missing, he would quickly take pictures of your panties just for him to keep and return them to your bag and switching it out with his. He lost control so many times and “Accidentally” Shot his seed onto your panties, and with the small span of time he had, he had to return them soiled into your handbag.
Which when you discovered it was already dried up, you huffed and the naïve you thought it was the bottle of your conditioner blew up or something, which if you think harder and open your eyes, it was only one soiled panty.
Taehyung had a goal, and growing up not being surrounded by many women in his life, he’s compensating but in an abnormal way, he has hooked up with over half the women who work in your company and it was your turn and he wanted to have you just so he can check your name on the list and tick it done.
“We’re starting in 10 minutes.” The producer announces which snaps Taehyung out of his thoughts. “So did you pack for tomorrow?”
“Yeah, aren’t you excited?” You genuinely ask, you packed up your carry on the night before since you’re all heading to Osaka tomorrow for their tour. You can’t deny you love your job, you get to travel all over the world with them and you even get paid for it. But little do you know, there will be a price you have to pay.
“Oh yeah, even when it’s just for one day but I love Osaka.” He looks behind you and you follow his eyesight to find one of the stylists wearing short shorts that her lower butt cheek was clearly visible to everyone. You look back at Taehyung to see him still glancing at her ass with his head tilted. “Oh my god Taehyung, stop.”
He laughs and takes his phone out. “Come take a look. Her ass didn’t look like that when she was naked.” You debate for a second but you’re human after all and you’re a little curious, you stand next to him and watch him dig through a locked folder on his phone, scrolling up for a good two minutes before he finds the picture.
It was that stylist laying flat on the bed face down, her hand tied behind her back and her bare ass was sore read, clearly spanked and fucked until she passed out. And he was right, her ass didn’t look the same when she was naked. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean that this isn’t wrong.”
“Hey, if it makes you feel better I get their consent before I do anything.” He scrolls up again. “Wanna see something else? Look, this is her.”
He hands you one of his airpods and you put it on, and he starts a video of her down on her knees, her eyes blood red, clearly she was either drunk or high, and she was begging him to slap her on the face with his thumb into her mouth.
“Shit.. Please daddy, please spank me and make me yours.”
“Good girl, are you going to be daddy’s little whore and beg more?”
“Please spank your little whore on the face, it feels so fucking good when you do that, please spank me.”
And he slaps her hard on the cheek enough to make her hair fall on her face, but she immediately looks back at him and begs him to do it again and again and he does. And you can’t help but to notice the tip of his cock showing in the video. “How does getting slapped on the face feel good? I don’t get it.”
“Shh-“ He notices your voice getting a little higher and opens up another video. “You shouldn’t knock it till you try it, every girl I’ve been with said it felt amazing.”
“Do you think you would enjoy getting slapped on the face?” You ask, blinking your eyes a couple of times, he smirks and locks his phone. “I haven’t tried yet, but I’m willing to try it with you if you want to, maybe you can slap me on the face while you’re riding my dick, we’ll see if it feels good.”
Your face flushes at his explicit mentions of sex, you hit him on the arm and turn away from him, packing your kit into the makeup bag and taking a seat finally. And your flushed cheeks are considered as a good sign to him, he’s getting there and he’s slowly sinking his claws in to have you eventually.
The episode they’re filming took them a little over eight hours, you’re already packed and ready to leave and you hesitate actually going down to the parking lot, it’s almost an hour after filming and you’re not sure he’s still in the building or not.
The elevator stops at -1 and you make your way out, the entire floor is near empty and you can only spot around four cars parked around the floor, and all of them seem empty, except for the Genesis Suv that’s parked way back in the corner that flashes it’s lights repeatedly. It’s him.
You make your way there and reach your hand to the door handle and try to open it but it’s locked. Quite a trashy move of him to actually call you over and forget his car locked. You roll your eyes when he unlocks the car and you go inside. “What?”
“What?” He mocks you and locks his car again, “How was your day?”
“Taehyung just make it quick will you? We have a flight to catch tomorrow and I’m nowhere near ready—“ You’re interrupted by him shushing you and grabbing your purse away from you to put in the back seat. He reaches his entire body to the car floor and takes out a little box that’s wrapped in a tiny velvety ribbon. “This is my surprise for you.”
You’re intrigued. Your gaze meets his for a split second before you reject the box. “I can’t take gifts from you.”
He doesn’t even argue as he offers you the box again. “Hey, you don’t have to open it now if you want to.” He puts the box down onto your lap and leans his arm on the middle console. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning and you’ll tell me what you think, deal?”
You’re even more intrigued and you’re getting more curious to actually find out what’s inside, and why would he actually stay after schedule just to hand you this gift? You even shake the box while suspiciously maintaining eye contact with him which makes him smirk. You can only hear one thing clicking in the box and you can’t quite put a finger on it and figure out what it is?
“Alright, whatever. Are you going to drive me to my place or what?” You already put your hand on the door handle ready to leave the car. “No I can’t I’m sorry, I have a place to be, I can get you to the bus stop if you want to.” He just says that out of pity. What a douche.
“No thank you, I’ll walk there.” You squint your eyes before you leave the car, he doesn’t even wait for you to walk out of the building and he drives away fast, he really is a douche.
Public transportation wasn’t a big deal for you anyway, the ride home on the bus was very therapeutic to you, you usually keep your headphones on and listen to an audio book on your way back to clear your mind, or you would usually catch up with your friends on the group chat or something.
Sometimes you would even fall asleep if it was an exhausting day, but on your trip home tonight you were anticipating getting to your studio apartment so much, not that you’re greedy for the gift or anything, but you’re just curious why he so suddenly decided on giving you a gift that actually looks expensive.
You get there after a 40 minute trip and you finally get into your flat, not even taking your shoes off you rush to your couch and put the box down and untie the little dainty velvety ribbon, you take the top of the box off and you only see a few wrapping papers covering what seems to be a clothing item. You take it out and you feel your entire body heat up. It’s a costume.
No no, not any costume, it’s a little too slutty to be an actual costume. It’s a black leather one piece with spaghetti straps, a really low neck line that you know no one’s chest will ever fit in them. Not only that, but a pair of black lace stockings and suspenders, and a choker.
What in hell..
You put them down on the couch beside you and dig deeper into the box to find cat ears headband and a.. What the actual fuck.
A butt plug?
You cannot believe him, you put the blame on yourself for actually listening to him and meeting him up in the parking lot, and you shouldn’t have accepted the gift in the first place, he’s an actual man whore.
You scrunch up the entire outfit in a messy ball and throw it back in the box, before closing it and throwing it near your door on the floor, so you can pick it up and throw it in the trash in the morning.
-
A mini-van is supposed to collect all the girls up from their places and head to the airport, and of course you’re late. Last night’s sleep was horrendous, you couldn’t stop overthinking about the little trashy gift you got from the trashy man. You cannot believe some girls actually idolize this man.
“Y/N, if we miss the flight we have to book one ourselves.” Mira shouts as you hurriedly close your carry on and struggle to put on your pair of sneakers. You look at the trash near your door and sigh. “Damn it. I have to take the trash out.”
“Nope, you’re not taking anything out, I’m not willing to pay anything extra for the job I cannot stand.” She’s slowly losing her patience and so are you. You forget about the trash and get out of your place and lock your door.
The moment you get to the airport it’s already chaotic. Their schedule has been up since last week to the public and their fans know that they’re going out for tour, so they’re waiting there to hand them gifts and handmade letters. Again you cannot believe the image he shows to people of him when you know his true personality.
And boy was he good at faking an entire persona, you have no idea what girls think of him but fuck he’s nowhere near how girls imagine him. A trashy human being that you could swear reeks like sex the entire time. He looks like he woke up with a hangover so you guess he was probably with someone last night and he was onto something.
He notices your existence amid all the chaos when you all get up to the lounge to have your breakfast even when you could’ve waited to get to Japan to eat, the trip wasn’t that far away. You grab yourself a cup of coffee and stack up food on your plate, you know you won’t have the time to eat later so you decide on fueling up early today.
“Good morning.” He puts his coffee down on the same table you’re sitting around and you sigh before looking around. Relax Y/N, you cannot make a scene.
“Good morning.” You proceed on eating, you cannot let him ruin your morning this quickly.
“So, what do you think?” He crosses his legs and tilts his head towards you. “The moment I saw the costume I knew I had to buy it for you.”
“Mhm, truly says a lot about your character, a trashy gift from someone like you.” You don’t beat around the bush. He laughs and leans towards you to whisper. “Please tell me you got it in your luggage.”
“Nope, I’m getting rid of it—“
He shrugs right away. “Then I’ll buy you another one.”
A moment of silence fills the air when your gaze meets his for a couple seconds, he pulls his chair closer to yours and takes his phone out which makes you whine. You know he’s going to show you more of his kinky NSFW content and it’s really uncomfortable for you to watch it. “Look, I don’t know how I can explain this better for you, but trust me. It is okay for things like that to happen in this field.”
“Just because everyone’s doing it doesn’t mean it’s right.” There you go, a girl with standards.
“I swear it is okay.” He pulls his chair even closer and now his shoulder is rubbing against yours when he whispers. “Y/N baby, us men are totally different. You girls can go around without sex for ages and you won’t even care. But men have this sexual energy that they need to let out one way or another.”
This is really disgusting.
“And people like us need to be careful on who to hook up with, and you girls are the safest because we work together.” He shrugs. “Not only us, every idol in the country has to do so.”
Of course it’s partially right, but you’re genuinely confused on why wouldn’t he just get a girlfriend instead of bitching around with plenty of women.
“You know, the idea itself is not that acceptable, but I can understand. But why do you film them? For the love of god you have an entire folder on your phone dedicated to this content. I mean, why do you have to film them when you have them right there in front of you?”
“Good question.” He nods. “You know how some people try and discover themselves, they sometimes dig around here and there trying to find out what actually turns them on, and you know they try and discover their preferences?”
“Are you trying to mansplain what kinks are?” You proceed on eating. “So is that your kink? You like filming women?”
“It’s more fun than the actual thing to me. And the times I made myself cum to the videos I created are countless. It’s fucking sexy.” He grits on his teeth and puts an arm around your chair. You’re getting uncomfortable with him not leaving you enough amount of personal space. “I love watching them looking at the camera and begging to be fucked and just submit to me.”
“And they’re all okay with being filmed?” You ask him and he nods right away. “Now they know what I like, and now they ask me to film them. What about you?”
“No, I’m good thank you.” You answer right away and put down your fork when you’ve fully wiped your plate clean.
“No, I mean what kinks do you have? Have you tried discovering what your preferences are?” He asks, twirling a strand of your hair in his hand, you can feel his breath against your ear when he whispers. “What was it like being fucked the first time?”
It takes you a moment to answer but you eventually do. “I don’t remember what it was like, it was long ago, but I don’t recall it being fun.”
“First time is always awkward.” He nods. “What about the second time?”
You shrug one shoulder and cross your arms. “I don’t think of sex the way you do. I mean I’ve had sex multiple times with different partners, but I think it’s a little overrated.”
“Overrated?” He’s offended. His hand sits on his chest. “You think sex is overrated?”
“Okay chill.” You get up on your feet to refill your coffee and he follows you. “I just don’t find it as fun and as pleasuring as people claim it is.”
“It’s because you haven’t had it with the right person.” He defends right away. “Oh my god did you even cum before?”
You shrug. “I don’t know, maybe.”
He’s interrupted by your gate opening, their carryon luggage is carried and already loaded inside and the rest of the staff is starting to board. “This isn’t finished yet. I’ll see you when we get to our hotel.”
“Whatever Taehyung, don’t make a big deal out of this.” You push him away to grab your bag and get in line. “It is a big deal.” He argues one last time and gets in line and boards the plane.
-
You have no idea what went through you, but the entire flight you were rethinking your conversation with him and you find yourself slowly getting convinced about the idea generally. You really surprised yourself when you hum out loud, thinking that you are getting curious to try and spend one night with him.
Do girls actually want to sleep with him because he’s good? Or because he’s an idol and that’s like literally a fetish to some people.
You cannot deny he’s really good looking, he’s really charming on camera but even the camera doesn’t do him any justice, he was perfectly sculpted in real life and way more attractive than people think.  But it’s just his recurrent sexual behavior that’s been setting you off. You find yourself cringing.
The entire plane has been booked for Bangtan and their staff. Them with their managers, security, filming staff, directors, producers, engineers, stylists and makeup artists of course, editors. Everyone on this plane knew each other.
It was a little noisy to begin with since some are catching up and some are chatting, so you put your earphones on the entire flight, and right when your third song on your playlist ended and the fourth one is about to start, you over hear the girls behind you.
“You need to cover for me when we get there.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can barely stand on my feet, and I’m really sore from last night.”
“Who did you spend the night with? I thought you were inviting me.”
“Taehyung and Jungkook. I passed out at the end.”
“You’re kidding.” 
So it is normal for girls to actually sleep with them and go around telling their friends like it’s totally okay. It’s starting to feel like a whore house, and it probably is.
You peak your head to look towards Jungkook and Taehyung, both of them are sleeping and even snoring. Of course they’re tired when they spend the previous night with the same girl. This is so fucked up.
Not long after you all get to the hotel to spend the only free hour you get before your day starts and you all head to the stadium for rehearsals. You’re surprised that the entire hotel is booked for the staff too and you luckily get your own room with one single bed, but who are you to complain? You always hated having roommates, so one bed is way better than having a roommate.
Right when you’re about to close the door a foot stops it from moving any further which startles you for a second before you open the door again. Of course it’s him, who’s been digging deep and moving around asking stylists which room you got. “Oh come on.” You whine.
“Can I come in?” He so politely and innocently asks, for a second you’d doubt he’s the same person who showed you an entire folder of girls begging him to do stuff to them. He doesn’t even step a foot further inside your room before you huff and roll your eyes. “Come in.”
He takes one last look to the corridor and walks in, the door automatically locking when it closes.
“What’s up?” You act occupied as you take out your skin care products to put onto the dresser. He plops down onto your bed and grabs the pillow to put under his head. “We have unfinished business.”
“Taehyung, don’t you take no for an answer?” You don’t even spare him a glance.
“Hey, If it makes you feel any better, I’m your friend and colleague, we’re around the same age, consider this as a friend helping another friend.” He shrugs and talks as if it’s that easy. “And if it makes you comfortable, I’m not filming you if you don’t want to.”
“Oh yeah, because filming me was the only problem.” You turn your head to the little coffee machine in the corner of your room and make yourself a cup, he doesn’t argue back which makes you wonder why, you turn your head and he’s literally digging into your handbag and taking out one of your bras.
“Kim fucking Taehyung.” You snatch your bra away from him. “Get out.”
“I knew you were a C cup.” He gets up onto his feet. “Look, I’m sorry if this made you uncomfortable, but I don’t know why you’re really over thinking it. It’s just a one time thing, we hook up and that’s it, no one has to even know.”
“You could easily lure any woman into bed and we both know it, but snatching away my bra and showing me your stupid kink and shit won’t get me into bed with you.” You put your bra back into your handbag and close it.
“Then tell me how.” He puts his hand into his pockets. “What could get Y/N to sleep with me?”
“Exactly, and it’s nothing, nothing could get me to sleep with you Taehyung, this is fucked up.”
“Money? How much and I’ll give it to you cash, right now.”
The audacity on this man.
“Oh my god, you’re making it even worse if you can’t tell. Get out.” You open the door to your room.
He huffs and walks towards the door to shut it again. “Okay, look, I’m sorry if this offended you I didn’t mean so. But again why are you rejecting it? Millions of women want to be in your place.”
“Yeah, I know, and I’m not one of those millions. Besides, how am I supposed to look at you again if we ever slept together?” You cross your arms.
“Like you’ve always looked at me.” He pouts. “Nothing will change, no strings attached, it’s just one night, is it my fault that I really want you to enjoy one night?”
You open the door again and look him in the eye, your coffee is already gone cold and you’re over this argument. He closes the door again and tugs your hair behind your ear, whispering softly. “Y/N.. I feel like you’re different, you’re nothing like other girls, you’re a really nice, sweet and attractive young lady that deserves to feel like a woman.”
It’s a little alarming to you that with such small physical contact with him could make you think about it seriously.
There’s nothing to lose, you’re a woman after all and you have your needs.
He promised you one night, no strings attached, and apparently he’s really good and he knows what he’s doing.
“Don’t you think you deserve to have at least one night of mind blowing sex?” He grins and grazes the back of his hand against your cheek. “We’re flying back to Seoul tomorrow night, I’ll give you enough time to think, and maybe I can have your phone number or something, we could stay in contact and probably discuss things while keeping it on the low key.”
“Discuss?” You squint your eyes.
“Yeah, we could talk, tell me what you like and how you like it, you know, stuff like that.” He elaborates, you sigh and look him in the eyes. “What if we happen to like different things?”
“Then I’m willing to let go of the things that I like just for your sake.” He crosses his fingers. “I’m a good boy I promise.”
“Fine.” You can’t believe yourself. You take your phone out of your back pocket and proceed to add him to your contacts, a satisfied smile lingers on his face and he even leans forward to print a kiss to your cheek. He’s totally buttering up his bread and he thinks he can get you to agree to this faster, but you’re smarter than him.
“You’re crossing the lines Taehyung.”
“Who cares about the damn lines, if we agree to this I’ll be kissing other things and you’ll want me to.” He opens the door to your room and walks out. “I’ll see you around.”
And indeed. After your one hour free time you all headed to the stadium for rehearsals, the concert was happening tomorrow but everyone needed orientation around the place.
During the entire day he never brought it up, neither look at you like he has been recently, he kept it professional with you in front of everyone and never spoke about it like it never happened.
You were scheduled to leave the stadium at around 11 in the evening, the girls decided on going out for dinner but you skipped, you had multiple coffees during your day and you don’t feel physically well, so you just head back to your hotel and take the elevator up to your room.
You gasp when you see him about to take the elevator and go down, you barely recognize him when he has a cap and a face mask on. “Oh, hey Y/N.” He so casually speaks.
“Hey, you’re going out?” Why did you even ask. He laughs softly and shakes his head. “No, I’m going downstairs to grab a bite from the buffet, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you going out?”
“I’m a little tired, I guess I’ll just go to sleep or something.” It feels like you’re talking to the Taehyung you’ve always known for the past years, nothing feels different so far.
He looks at the time on his wrist and looks back at you. “If you want to, I’ll grab something to eat quickly and come hang out with you, maybe we can talk about that thing.”
Yup, never mind.
“I think I’d rather sleep.” You walk out of the elevator and he walks in instead. “Come on, 10 minutes max, I won’t be late.”
You shouldn’t have asked him anything in the first place.
“You know, I don’t think it would be a good idea if you and I stayed alone in one room.”
“Don’t worry, we’re not going to spice things up, we’re just hanging out discussing things, like other colleagues do.” He presses the button on the elevator. “I’ll see you later.”
And the elevator door closes before you could even shoo him away for the evening. He’s just going to come up to your room later and you know he’ll force himself inside.
You click the key card to your room and immediately change to your pajamas, you even turn off the lights and hope he thinks you’re asleep by the time he knocks at your door.
Thankfully time passed by and he never knocked. But instead he went back to his room and decided to text you.
1:54 | KTH:
Couldn’t come by sorry
1:54 | KTH:
Are you still awake?
1:54 | KTH
Wanna come over to my room 😉
KTH sent a photo
KTH sent a video
Of course he can see your read receipts, he knows you’re awake and he even lured you further into the conversation by sending you a photo and a video that you rush to open.
He’s not exactly there in the photo, the picture is taken of his TV turned on and he’s under the blanket, you can only see his covered legs from above the blanket, nothing too special.
The video is what makes your ears buzz, you find yourself pressing your thighs closer to each other, when he palms what seems to be his erection from above the blanket, and holy fuck was he big or were you hallucinating. You turn the volume up and you can hear his breath changing with every stroke of his cock. He inserts his hand under the blanket and strokes his cock before flipping the camera to his face and smiling like nothing happened.
Luckily that video is on replay, so it keeps replaying on its own unless you swipe it away, you don’t know what possesses you, you put your phone down against the used coffee cup from earlier and pull your pants down, your hand travels down to your folds and you touch yourself, delivering circular continues rubs to your clit and teasing your entrance with your middle and ring finger.
You spit onto your fingers and move further down again to rub your clit faster this time, your shoulders tensing and your hand already growing tired. It always takes you so long to get to your edge and you need a stimulant more than just a stupid photo or a video. Your other hand moves to grab your breasts out of your top and you pinch your nipple and squeeze onto your flesh. “Mmm.” Your eyes are piercing through your phone screen but your stupid screen saver decides on locking your phone which makes you whine desperately. “Ugh.” You grab your phone and unlock it, of course the video is gone.
2:03 | KTH:
Like what you see?
Has it been 9 minutes already?
Your fingers rush to type on the screen.
2:03 | You:
🙄
2:04 | You:
Mister kim is spending a night alone how weird
2:04 | KTH:
Mister Kim?
2:04 | KTH:
You can keep calling me mister kim if you want to 😉
You bite onto your fingernails, wanting to send a risky text but you’re so unsure. Your fingers hover over the screen and you proceed to type, but quickly delete what you wrote.
2:05 | KTH:
Want me to send you more? Maybe you can send me some
And of course this is off the table, you’re not going to send him nudes not because you’re against sending them generally, but you’re against sending nudes to him. Your pictures may end up in a folder on his phone like any other woman.
2:06 | You:
Goodnight.
Taehyung has been dealing with women like you for years now, he can see and expect any behavior that you may project and this is one of these situations. You sending him goodnight didn’t quite literally mean goodnight. He knows you want this to happen but you’re still in denial and you don’t know that yourself.
So of course, without thinking twice, he opens the camera on his phone and this time pulls the blanket down a little just to reveal the tip of his cock that’s pressed against his stomach. He grabs the massage oil to pump some onto his long fingers and strokes his angry dick again.
The man has been with so many women that he built a stamina that no regular woman can take, he can go for hours and women even beg him to cum just so they can rest, he was animalistic and it was out of this world, hence women actually passing out when sleeping with him. Stroking his cock alone won’t get him to his end and he could easily calm his erection without having to cum, the self control on this man is incredible.
 He touches the red circle on his phone screen and starts filming, clearly teasing you and showing you only the tip, his cock all glistening from the massage oil. It was quiet around his hotel room, and the only thing that’s heard in the video is the sound of stroking heard clearly when it’s this slippery, and the sounds he was unbelievably good at faking, little whimpers and moans, his breath hitching and even swear words escaping his lips. “Fuck.. Mm, Y/N, this is all for you.”
The video was sent to you, and you don’t hesitate to open it, this time actually positioning yourself on the bed and grabbing out one of the thickest makeup brushes you have on hand, wetting it with your mouth and slowly teasing your entrance before pushing it inside. The video starts and your fingers abruptly move to turn up the volume. Your body instantly heats up and reacts upon the sounds you hear, and holy fuck you can clearly see the tip, and it looks fucking edible at this moment.
You cannot believe this is happening and you feel your face even heating up, is it embarrassment? You can’t tell, it may be embarrassment but hey you’re not the one sending nudes he is. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Well except the fact that you’re masturbating to a video of him.
You hear your name and in a click of a button, your stomach tightens and your back arches, your hand moves faster to insert the back of the makeup brush further inside your thirsty pussy as you chase your orgasm. Even when the brush was cold and it practically didn’t feel like skin nor had the size of an actual dick but it was enough for you to let go.
Your chest heaves and your legs shut tightly around your hand and the video still plays on your phone that’s still nesting in your other hand, your eyes locked onto the screen afraid that you can’t see the same shot anymore when you swipe away.
The last bit of self control of you finally washes into your body and you swipe away, you can’t deny you immediately regret but you had to swipe away at some point.
2:35 | KTH:
I thought I’d hear u cum but I didn’t L
Your body stiffens and you immediately get up onto your feet, the makeup brush slips out of your vagina down onto the floor and you rush to see through the peephole and immediately cover your mouth with your hand when you see him standing there on his phone, leaned against your door and still texting you. Your hand that’s holding your phone is leaned against the door so with every text he send it vibrates and the entire door vibrates with it which makes him look at the peephole from his side.
And holy fuck at this point you’re terrified. Luckily your room is dark and he can’t see anything, but he knows you’re watching him. You rush to grab your pants and put them back on and get under your blanket. As if he’s going to open the door at any second and hurt you.
You shut your eyes tightly trying to avoid looking at your phone screen but you eventually do.
2:38 | KTH:
Sent you 9 messages.
The door to your room knocks and you actually gasp, covering your mouth again but the entire floor was so quiet and empty that if a needle fell everyone would hear it.
You get up onto your feet and put on a jacket to cover yourself even when your pajama wasn’t revealing at all, you just put your jacket on for protection. You look through the peephole one last time before you open up and he almost stumbles because he leaned his entire body weight against the door. “Hey, I thought you’d never open.”
“Yeah, what’s up?” You hug your jacket closer to your chest and cross your arms, “What’s up?” He asks with a smirk on his face as he walks inside your room and closes the door behind him, “So what did it feel like?”
“Hmm?” You open the mini fridge and grab water out for yourself to take a few sips. He chuckles and puts his hands into his pockets. “Y/N baby, I know your body more than you do. Your face has the afterglow and you’re not breathing regularly, and your lips are blood red. What did it feel like when you made yourself cum to the video?”
“Taehyung I—“
“What did you like the most? The sounds or your name actually being called when I’m jerking off to you?” He plops down on your bed and throws his phone down on the nightstand.
“I’m not breathing regularly because you’re over here past midnight spying on my door.” You sit across the room, maintaining a good amount of space between you two. “And please don’t call me baby, I’m not your baby.”
He rolls his eyes and huffs. “We’re just chatting, trust me I’m not going to touch you if you don’t give me your consent I promise, besides I-- Hey, what’s that?”
His eyes land on the makeup brush that’s dropped down onto your floor, and the glistening tip is what caught his attention. “What do you mean, this is a makeup brush.” You rush to stand up and run towards it but he’s faster than you are, he picks it up from the floor and a smirk sits on his face, fuck he even grabs it closer to smell it and he knows what this smell is. But yours was sweeter and truly different from other smells.
“Would you look at that.” He scoffs. “A makeup brush? Really?”
“Stop.” You bite onto your own teeth and you approach him to snatch it away, but again he’s faster. He licks the tip of the brush once and smacks his tongue into his mouth before swallowing. “Mm.”
Your entire body freezes when you watch him savor it, he licks  the tip of the brush clean with his eyes closed, you thought your body would react to it but none, you’re standing there stiff right before him when he gets up onto his feet. He opens his eyelids and his gaze meets yours, his pair of tight sleepy eyes gazing right through yours. “You taste heavenly.” He grabs your hand and puts the brush into it before leaving your room and closing the door behind him. The second you hear  the auto lock on the door you drop down to your bed with the brush in your hand.
Trails of his saliva are visible on the end of it and you cannot help but pull it closer to your mouth and lick it after him. You’re fucked.
You wake up the morning after wishing you could forget what happened last night. You’re pretty sure you’re embarrassed and ashamed at the fact that you got caught. You didn’t want this to happen to begin with, how are you supposed to look at him when you have to spend the entire day with him?
You pack your handbag and hand it to the hotel staff, you’re going straight from the stadium to the airport so you had to be ready and they took your bag to load the bus with the rest of the luggage.
“I don’t get it, we left the hotel at the same time, he’s supposed to be here.” Mira whines. The entire staff was ready and he wasn’t there yet. “The sound check is in less than an hour—“
“We know the schedule Mira, please just Shush.” You woke up on the wrong side of the bed and you weren’t ready to hear any whining, “Yeah Mira. I’m here give yourself a break.” Taehyung walks from behind you and gets seated onto the chair. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Mira alone responds and proceeds to blow dry his hair while you take out your kit and completely ignore the man seated on the chair in front of you.
He’s trying to look at you sneakily but he’s keeping his promise, no one is going to know anything so he’s not going to be doing anything suspicious to the rest of the staff. “Are you feeling better today?” He asks politely.
“Me?” You point to yourself unsure if he’s talking to you, and he blinks his eyes in a “Yes.” Before speaking. “You weren’t feeling well when I saw you in the elevator last night.”
“Yeah, she didn’t join us for dinner, are you feeling well?” Leah asks while she’s working on Seokjin’s hair.
“Oh yes, I went to bed early and I’m doing well today.” You force a smile on your face and grab out the little bag that had all your makeup brushes.  That brush is the first thing you see when you open the tiny purse and it reminds you in case you forgot, that you were caught masturbation last night.
“You can start Y/N. I need to get a new bottle of hairspray from downstairs.” Mira puts her stuff down and walks away leaving you to work on Taehyung’s face.
“Can I ask you something?” He looks around before whispering and you answer him right away. “Nope.” Which makes him pout. You roll your eyes and start dabbing primer onto his face. “What do you want?”
“Did you really throw away the thing I got you?”
“Well, I’m planning to.” You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue, he shrugs and whispers. “What you did yesterday would feel ten times better if you actually use the gift.”
“I don’t do butt stuff Taehyung.” You argue right away, still low enough for only you two to hear. He looks at you while squinting his eyes. “Who said anything about butt stuff?”
“You sent me a butt plug, don’t try and act oblivious, the gift didn’t send itself.” You grab his chin to throw his head back. “Silly, it wasn’t a butt plug, it was a vibrator.”
His face is right there you can easily slap him and make a scene, it’ll cost you your job but who cares.
“Don’t look  at me like that.” He scoffs. “Text me when you get home tonight I’ll show you how to use it.”
“I know how a vibrator works Taehyung thank you. Now would you stop moving I can’t blend the concealer well.” You try hard to change the topic, but the idiot grabs your purse of makeup brushes and takes out that brush and hands it to you. “Here, I think this one will do.”
Your gaze meets his for a couple seconds before he looks down at your lips and bites his own, totally imagining your lips swollen from all the kissing, the picture of you choking onto his dick that he drew in his head is now chasing him whenever he lays his eyes onto you.
Maybe you being mean to him made him actually want to have you more than before, you’re unlike them, other girls from your staff didn’t even think twice before hooking up with him. But you being a tough cookie made him ready to beg just to be with you even if it was just once.
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greg-montgomery · 2 months
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sleepover part 2 - dbf!hotch x fem!reader
18+ minors dni!
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umm a little part 2 of staying at your dad’s best friend’s house <3 1.5k words, warnings: age gap, choking, degradation? unprotected sex 🤗
To say that your body was on fire since the night before would be an understatement. Aaron held you close until the credits of the movie started rolling, his thumb either rubbing your cheek or running circles on your neck. For such an experienced profiler you were surprised he hadn’t noticed the way you were shaking or the goose bumps on your skin.
His huge hand on you had felt rough on your skin but you wanted nothing else to touch you for the rest of your life. The subtle scent of him was stuck on your clothes and you heavily considered running errands in your pajamas, just so you could live in the cloud of his cologne.
It had just started getting dark outside and you figured Aaron wouldn’t be home until much later. That gave you time to take a long shower and also take your mind off of him and the veins on his hands.
You hit play on your favorite playlist, gathered all your best smelling toiletries, and stepped into the shower. The only problem was that the more you were trying not to think of Aaron Hotchner the more your brain focused on him. When you commanded yourself not to think about his thick thighs, your mind did the opposite. The more you were pushing him away the more he was stuck to you.
Maybe you could take care of your problem until he was home.
--
“Sweetie?”
Aaron searched around the house for you, holding a bag of takeout. He knew your favorite order from all the evenings he had spent at your house, keeping company to your dad – and naturally to you as well.
Moving further into the house, he heard the shower running, finding the reason you hadn’t been replying to him. He had to take a long breath in not to get all hot by the mental image of you in there. Naked and wet and…
No. You were younger, sweet and innocent. He had no business messing with a girl like you. You deserved a guy your age, with less baggage, without a kid, a demanding job, and a dead ex-wife.
Unfortunately for him, all his thoughts and reasons on why he should stay away vanished, the moment the door opened and you stood there in front of him with a little towel wrapped around your body and the expression of a deer caught in headlights.
“Hotch,” you said in a breath. “You’re home.”
“Yeah…I…I brought food.” He wasn’t sure how he was able to speak. Little drops of water were sticking onto your skin, and most of your body was completely exposed.
Aaron wasn’t naïve; he knew you wanted him. Still, he had never even dared to think of touching you.
But now, there you were, wrapped like a little gift just for him, looking at him with eyes that felt as if they were pleading for him to take you.
“I’m sorry for…um…” you said gesturing at your appearance, “this. I didn’t think you’d be home that soon.”
“It’s okay, honey.”
You both stood there for a moment, unable to avert your gaze from each other. The tension was strong, and Aaron knew the right thing would be to ignore it. He wasn’t thinking when he took a step towards you and he definitely wasn’t thinking when he grabbed your arm and pulled you close.
He heard you gasp at the contact and your open mouth looked deliciously inviting. Aaron wanted nothing more than to feel those lips wrapped around his dick, swallowing him whole.
“Hotch…” you whispered all needy, and it snapped him back to reality. If he didn’t let you go now, he would destroy you forever.
“I’m sorry,” he said, releasing your arm, but you grabbed his in response.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because this is wrong.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
A sigh escaped your lips, and your hand moved across his arm, reached his shoulder, and then moved down his chest. Aaron was praying you would stop soon, otherwise there was no way he was letting you out of his arms tonight.
“Unless you want me to take you to my room you should stop right there, sweetheart,” he said.
“And if I want you to take me?”
Aaron didn’t need another signal. He cupped the sides of your head and crushed his lips on yours, pulling you into his body as close as possible.
Your little whines as your lips moved against his drove him crazy and his cock was getting harder and harder by the second. Using his left hand he grabbed your jaw and urged you to walk backwards, without for a moment dropping your gaze.
Soon, you were on laying on your back decorating his bed. The whiteness of your towel was a beautiful contrast to the darkness of his sheets, as he pulled it off your body.
“Fuck, baby, you are so hot,” he said while scanning your body. To say he had never pictured you naked would have been a lie, but you were prettier beyond any imagination.
“Hotch,” you whined.
“Aaron,” he corrected you.
“Aaron, I need you. Please.”
He was dying to touch your body but his hand went to your face first, parting your lips, letting you suck on his finger. “I know you do.”
Your legs parted and the sight of your glistening cunt had his mouth water. You used your legs to bring him closer, wrapping them around his waist.
Your hands went to his belt, the feeling of them on his crotch driving him crazy. You moaned when you released him from his pants and that moan went straight to his ego, seeing how satisfied you were with his size.
Aaron’s finger was wet with your saliva and he run it down your neck, reaching your chest. Your nipples hardened even more under his touch and he could not resist putting one into his mouth, while he played with the other.
“You’re perfect,” he moaned. He lifted his head to look at you. “I want to make you mine.”
“All I want is to be yours.”
“I know,” he said. “I know. I can see that sweet little pussy dripping and begging for me. How are you this wet already?” he asked, when his hand finally found its way between your legs.
Your response was a sneaky smile.
“What does this little smile mean now?” he grinned.
“I was thinking about you,” you admitted. “In the shower…”
Oh, you were going to be the end of him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Will you show me, baby? Will you show me what you were doing while thinking of me? I wanna see you play with your pussy.”
You blinked ta him shyly.
“Come on, be a good girl and touch it.”
With a proud smile he saw your hand move, before two of your fingers disappeared inside you.
“Fuck,” he said, and started stroking himself at the sight of you. He bit his lips at the thoughts of all the ways he would use your body tonight.
“Need you,” you moaned. “Please, Aaron, I can’t.”
“What would your father say, honey, if I told him I had his daughter under me begging me to fuck her? If I told him she was begging for his best friend’s cock like a fucking slut?”
Your little cries drove him crazy and he placed the head of his dick on your entrance.
“You okay?” he whispered.
You nodded, and the next moment he was inside you.
His hips started rocking against yours, and Aaron thought that this had to be how being in heaven felt.
“You feel so fucking good,” he mumbled against your lips.
“Ah…Aaron,” you moaned. Your hand found his and he thought you wanted your fingers intertwined. To his surprise your request was something different.
“Put it on my neck,” you said.
“You like to be chocked, honey?”
“Mhm…”
He wrapped his hand around your neck and you wrapped your own hands around his wrist.
“Fuck, it’s so good.”
“I know, baby.”
“You’re so fucking big, I…I…”
“Are you close, baby? Will you come for me?”
“Yes, fuck, yes,” you screamed, and he felt your pussy pulse around him.
You looked like an angel while finishing, with your mouth open and your eyes closed. He stared at you, trying to memorize every single feature of your face. You were his now.
He pulled out and after a few strokes he was cumming all over your stomach. Your eyes were on his, and you were biting your finger with a playful smile. It seemed like you wanted to be fucked again, and who was Aaron to refuse you?
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purple-babygirl · 2 months
Text
don't call me daddy V
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader
Word count: 4,660
Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.
Warnings: crying, age regression, fluff, a little angst
A/N: i would like to give credits for this part and its idea to🦊nonnie because without her ask there might've not been a fifth part to this story. Having said that, i'm thinking this should be the last part of the story because i am out of scenario your girl is empty. but anyway, please enjoy this one and have a tight hug xx💜💜
~
When they arrived back at her house, she was asleep in the passenger's seat.
Bucky didn’t want to wake her up. He knew she barely got any sleep last night because of the mean cough she was suffering from and so he carefully carried her inside without a word.
His heart kept speeding up every time he would remember what she called him after taking her shot as he slipped her feet out of her shoes and socks and tucked her in her bed.
He frankly had no idea what he would do if she was to wake up little and if he was ready to be a good daddy to her. What if he messed up again? He seemed to be a pro at that.
Luckily, when she woke up later that night, she was her big self again and didn’t seem to have any recollection of calling Bucky daddy, or if she did, she didn’t mention it.
Bucky gave her her cough syrup and the rest of the meds, helping her go back to sleep as he presumed his place on the floor by her bed.
In a way he couldn’t explain, even her coughs were more comfort than the silence at his house, and definitely more comfort than his nightmares.
It was 12 days of little sleep, a lot of crying, meds, movies and sleepovers until she was fully cured again, and even though Bucky hated that she was sick, those seemed to have been some of the best days he’s ever gotten to live since he’s come back to himself.
He got to laugh with someone, care for someone, comfort someone and enjoy the company of someone. And not just anyone; it was her.
But something was missing still.
Bucky wanted her to call him daddy. More than anything and from the bottom of his heart, he wanted to deserve that name, that role.
What Bucky had noticed in the days he’d stayed at her place was that she had no family pictures at all.
She had framed pictures of friends, of herself, of Corgi, but none of family members.
It didn’t come as a surprise because she’d mentioned it to him before, and he just knew that if he wanted to be her caregiver, her daddy, Bucky had to prove to her that he was nothing like those who’d hurt her. He had to prove himself worthy of taking care of her; set himself apart from them.
And to do that, he had to know more.
“I see no family pictures anywhere,” Bucky spoke as he helped her plant the new tulips she had in place.
“Yeah, we’re not close.” She shrugged, hand stuttering just the tiniest bit in their movements.
“Can I ask why?”
She sighed, “why?”
“I’m trying to learn from the mistakes of others.”
She laughed, “really?”
“Really.”
Oh, this wasn’t a joke?
“You know you don’t have to do that anymore, right?” She couldn’t understand why he would want to try again when the report was handed and he was let off the hook.
“I want to. I really want to.” Bucky wished his gloved hands weren’t muddy as they were so he could touch her face.
He found himself craving physical contact around her more often than not.
“You finally believe in the power of the program?” She teased, keeping her focus on the flowers she was rooting.
“No, I couldn’t care less about the institution and its programs.”
“Not even Mrs. Morrison?” She joked again.
“I’m serious, doll.”
“Why then?” She dropped the bulbs, deciding to face Bucky.
“I want it because it’s you I’ll be daddy to.”
“They never loved me for who I was.” She answered his previous question and Bucky felt a pang at his chest.
He had made her feel the same way.
He remained silent, not wanting to interrupt her in fear that she might stop.
“I always had to be a certain way, say certain things, act a certain way. Do what we say and then we’ll see if we can love you.”
Bucky might’ve been speechless, but his eyes spoke a million words, begging hers for forgiveness for his ignorant mistakes.
“That’s why it hurt so much when you showed me you didn’t accept the little version of me.”
“I’m so sorry-”
She shook her head, stopping him.
“I’ve been rejected for too long, Bucky, too many times. It took me a good while to finally believe that I was worth loving despite my quirks, ugly parts and possible mistakes. Took too long to teach myself that it didn’t matter if I cried all the time, was too clingy or too talkative; I was still lovable.” She pointed to her chest as she finished her words.
Bucky took his gloves off, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop himself anymore. He had no words, only anger and remorse raging inside his chest.
“It takes you a while to unlearn stuff you’ve been taught your whole life by the people who were supposed to love you the most.” She whispered into his shirt.
“Doll, I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered back.
“It’s okay.” She looked up at him, “I appreciate you, Bucky, I really do, but I don’t think I’m ready to lose everything I’ve built inside me if you decide in the middle of it that you weren’t fully ready to take on such a responsibility. I forgive you. I promise. But I don’t trust you enough to give up full control of myself and my life to you again. I’m sorry.” She pulled away from the hug, giving Bucky the option to walk away.
“Don’t be. I understand.” He remained in place.
“Are you gonna disappear now?” She wondered with a sad smile.
“No, you’re not getting rid of me so easily.” Bucky returned the smile, putting his gloves back on.
She smiled gratefully, “I don’t wanna lose you either. You’re such a great friend. And I owe you forever for taking care of me those past few days.”
“What if I prove myself to you though?” Bucky asked, dipping a tulip bulb in the soil.
“What?” She tilted her head in confusion.
“What if I show you how serious I am about this and prove myself worthy of you?”
“Bucky, you don’t have to do that. I know you have a life, responsibilities-”
“I want to do it. There’s nothing more important to me right now than this. And you.”
“If you’re doing this just because you can’t accept that you failed the program-”
“I swear on my ma’s soul, I want to do this. Because of you, doll. For you and with you.”
The words died on her tongue as she watched his sincere eyes implore hers.
“Would you give me a chance to prove myself to you? Please?”
“Okay, Bucky.” She swallowed, “one chance.”
“That’s all I need.” Bucky smiled.
She was not sick anymore and he didn’t have a reason to stick around. He also didn’t want to push her on the matter of regressing, so, respectful of her boundaries, he left.
~
After their conversation in the garden, Bucky had to go home.
His heart was heavy when he entered his empty apartment to nothing and no one. Being alone in here wasn’t something he enjoyed anymore.
It has been 2 days of intense research that Bucky has conducted on age regression and partners in little space when she texted him that night.
“Mr. Barnes, can you please come over?”
He wasn’t particularly happy about the fact that he was Mr. Barnes again, but he certainly was happy that she thought to text him when little. This was an improvement and it counted to Bucky.
“Will be right there, doll.” He texted back, running to his motorcycle.
~
Bucky took in a deep breath before knocking at her door, ready to prove himself a suitable daddy.
She opened with teary eyes, making Bucky’s heart sink.
“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked as he stepped inside.
“I can’t open the pickle jar and now my hands hurt,” she cried, showing him the insides of her palms and how red they were from trying so hard to twist the cap on the glass jar.
She was indeed a little worried that Bucky might find this stupid, that he might yell at her or get upset because she was crying over something minimal in his eyes.
But that wasn’t the case at all. The man was just thankful that she was alright.
“Oh, doll,” Bucky sighed in relief, glad that she wasn’t actually hurt.
Until he remembered that this was a big deal to her. Her hands hurt and she was frustrated because the cap wouldn’t budge.
Moments like these definitely required a daddy.
“I thought Mr. Barnes could help,” she sniffled, her hand wiping under her nose, “metal arm.” She touched his gloved hand.
Bucky chuckled, taking the pickle jar out of her hand, “what if I can do it without the metal arm? What would you give me in return?”
“The biggest pickle?” She offered, wiping her tears away from her eyes, her crying stopping at once.
Bucky laughed at her innocence, “no, I want something else, doll.”
She tilted her head expectantly.
What could Mr. Barnes possibly want? Did he want the whole jar? Would he at least leave her one pickle? She was craving pickles-
“I want you to start calling me Bucky again. No more Mr. Barnes. Can you do that for me, doll?”
Oh, that was something she could do.
“Only if you can open the jar with your not metal hand,” she challenged, her little mind amazed by the idea because look at her hand! It had red marks all over when she tried opening that jar.
“You got it,” Bucky said, easily twisting the cap on the jar open, making her mouth open with it.
“Woah,” she whispered as Bucky handed her the jar with a laugh.
“You’re welcome, doll.” He smiled, watching her chew on a crunchy pickle.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She smiled back, offering him a big pickle.
Bucky’s nerves tingled, knowing he was one step closer to her and his desired title.
~
Moving forward, Bucky learned to distinguish between her big self and little self through texts.
Her little self would always talk about him and herself in third person.
Plus, her big self always needed help with bigger things like needing Bucky to fix her sink or look at her car, knowing he might burn down the city if she went back to asking Adam for help with those things.
Her little self, on the other hand, would need help with the lighter things, the sweeter things. She would call asking for help with Corgi, something too high on a shelf or even just wanting Bucky’s company.
Tonight was one of those nights.
It was thundering more than usual and Bucky had wanted to go and be with her, but he didn’t want to invade her privacy.
But then she called and her scared voice saying his name had Bucky moving even before she uttered the words.
He was proud that she now knew that he was just only one call away; that he would come running whenever she needed. She could finally count on him to be there for her and he couldn’t be more contented.
He knew that consistency was important in relationships, especially one where she was little.
“Hey, doll, it’s okay. It’s just a little thunder,” Bucky cooed, rubbing her back as she let him inside.
“I’m not scared anymore now that Bucky is here.” She smiled, her breathing visibly slowing down.
“Well, I’m staying the night so you have nothing to worry about,” he chuckled, following her to the bedroom.
“Bucky covered his motorcycle?” she asked, worried his vehicle would get ruined.
“Leave that for now, we’ll hose it down together tomorrow when it’s sunny.”
“Corgi loves the hose,” she spoke out the first thought that came to her mind and Bucky loved it, laughing heartily at her comment.
The dog’s ears perked at the sound of his name, jumping at Bucky’s feet as soon as he entered the bedroom, waiting for his share of pets.
He bent down to give the dog some love when he heard her sigh.
“Corgi loves Bucky too.” She smiled shyly, internally wishing her name was Corgi.
“Bucky loves Corgi right back,” Bucky whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead.
She only smiled bigger, running to her bed and getting under the covers.
When Bucky got down to sleep on the floor that night, however, she slipped off her bed and right next to him.
“Doll, the floor is too cold for you. Sleep on your bed, come on.” Bucky sat up, wanting to help her up on the bed again but she wouldn’t move.
“Wanna be next to Bucky,” she said with a pout.
“But-”
“I know Bucky can’t sleep on beds. It’s okay. Doll will sleep here,” she told him, squeezing Wolfie in her arms.
Bucky’s heart fluttered and it made his mind light up with an idea only a true daddy would have.
“Do you wanna build a fort?” He suggested and her face instantly beamed with a smile as she nodded.
Of course she did!
That night as Bucky gathered all of her soft blankets to make her a floor mattress inside a fort full of fluffy pillows, he knew he was smitten.
This girl had him head over heels for her and there was nothing in the world that he wouldn’t do just to see her smile.
“Can Bucky please tell me a story?”
“Sure, doll. Do you have any books I can read to you from?”
“I have books that big me likes but I don’t want those.”
“What would you like then?”
“I want a story that is Bucky’s. Tell me a story you didn’t tell anyone at the institution.”
Oh, she was jealous. The thought made Bucky smile as he pulled the covers up to her neck to make sure she was warm down on the floor.
“Okay, you ready?” Bucky asked, dimming the lights in her room.
She made herself comfortable under the covers, big eyes watching Bucky’s handsome grin as the cozy atmosphere he’s created comforted her through the storm, “ready.”
“Once upon a time, there was a small idiot who picked up fights with boys much bigger than himself. His name was Steve…”
Bucky fell asleep with his hand stroking her hair, watching her soft breaths leave her chest that night without abruptly waking up in the middle of it for the first time in forever.
~
Bucky didn’t know what it was like to be her, but he was going to do his best to put himself in her shoes like she’d previously tried.
She deserved to be fully and entirely understood.
He witnessed a glimpse of her feelings towards the concept of family a couple of times when they would watch movies like The Lion King or Lilo and Stitch.
She didn’t seem to be affected by the death of Mufasa even though he knew her to be a very sensitive little. She was sad for Simba, of course, but not for Mufasa’s demise. Similarly with Lilo and Stitch, she didn’t care much about the concept of the family.
There was an actual barrier separating her from experiencing any positive feelings that came with the idea of family. Because she had none to associate with hers.
With some more research, Bucky managed to find a few animated movies that didn’t seem to revolve around the idea of family love and how family was everything and whatnot.
One of those movies was The Willoughbys. The movie depicted how neglecting some parents can be and that 2 people loving each other and getting married didn’t necessarily mean they would love their children too.
It was a very unique movie and Bucky was actually happy they could make such movies nowadays.
When the song I Choose You started playing in the movie, Bucky felt her small hand squeezing into a fist.
He silently wrapped his hand around hers, offering quiet comfort and support.
“Bucky chooses you, doll. Wholeheartedly.” Bucky reassured, bringing her knuckles to his lips.
He looked down to see tears in her innocent eyes as she showed her feelings for the first time during one of their movie nights.
“Bucky chooses me?” she croaked, lip trembling as she cried.
“I choose Bucky, too.” She pulled him down by one cheek to leave a kiss on the other.
Bucky froze.
It was the first time she’s kissed him since he applied that cream on her burnt hand back at his house. She did it on her own, too.
“And I choose Corgi,” she said, running her fingers through the hair of the puppy sleeping soundly on her lap.
“That’s right, and Corgi chooses you. Family doesn’t have to be the ones you were born with, doll,” Bucky told her as he wiped her tears away, “you can choose the family you want for yourself”.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him tight, afraid he might not be real and that this moment is all made up.
“You’re welcome, doll.” Bucky kissed the side of her head as they pulled away.
“Can I choose Adam, too?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper as she gauged Bucky’s reaction.
She could actually hear his chest rumble with a low “argh” before he nodded despite himself, making her giggle.
“Don’t worry. I only have one Bucky.” She reassured, slinging her arm around Bucky’s metal one.
One daddy, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. She was still scared.
~
Bucky knew that she needed her own independent time alone sometimes even when little, and he would allow her just that, texting throughout the day just to make sure she was okay, reminding her to drink water and take care of herself.
But there was one particularly hard weekend when she felt real down about some of her plants dying as the storm took them out of the ground.
When she opened the door she was clearly disheveled, hair all messy and looking like it hadn’t been brushed all week.
“Hey, doll,” Bucky spoke gently as he closed the door behind him.
She quickly ran into his arms, needing the comfort more than anything, “my plants are dead and Corgi peed on my new carpet and my hair doesn’t smell like shampoo anymore and I’m-”
Damn. She was spiraling. She just slipped out of his hug and on the floor. Oh no.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here now and I got you, okay?” Bucky tried his best to reassure her, getting on his knees before her to look into her eyes.
“Okay,” she hiccupped, nodding even though she wasn’t fully convinced.
“What happened to the plants?” Bucky wanted to handle her concerns one at a time.
“My apple trees were pulled out of place because of the storm,” she started sobbing again as she remembered what had happened to her hard word.
“Okay, okay, tell you what, I’ll put them back in place, okay?”
“Really?” She sniffed.
“Really.” Bucky smiled kindly.
“Okay.” She nodded, trying to control her breathing.
“And we’ll throw the new carpet in the washing machine, and keep Corgi in his playpen with pee pads,” Bucky gave her the steps of how the day was going to go, leading her by the hand to where Corgi was.
“Okay.” She nodded again, her tears ceasing.
“And while the carpet is being washed, I’ll help you wash your hair. Does that sound okay?” Bucky asked her permission, wanting to make sure she was completely comfortable.
“Yes.” She was finally smiling again as well.
“Okay, let’s get you in here,” Bucky told the puppy before placing him inside his playpen.
He spread a few sheets on which the dog could pee if needed before collecting the affected mat.
“Let’s take this to the washing machine,” Bucky voiced his movements, wanting to put her at ease as he kept her hand in his and walked with her to the bathroom.
“In you go.” Bucky threw the rug inside the washing machine along with some detergent.
“Now what do we do?” He asked her, wanting to keep her out of her head.
“Wash doll’s hair?” She asked with half a smile.
“That’s right, get in there.” Bucky tilted his head towards the bathtub with a smile.
~
And for some reason, it was different this time. He didn’t feel all weird seeing her naked. Maybe it was because he knew her better this time and was familiar with her in more ways than one that such intimacy didn’t startle him.
He wasn’t sure, but Bucky wasn’t complaining, only grateful as she closed her sweet eyes and trusted him to wash her hair for her.
“Alright, show me how it’s done,” Bucky encouraged, instructing her to whip her hair to the front so he could wrap the towel around it.
She did as told with a giggle, dangling her hair before her and letting Bucky wrap it up the best he could.
“Off to the couch.” Bucky chuckled as he watched her skip in her cashmere bathrobe to her couch.
Later after Bucky has brushed her hair for her, he helped her get dressed and they went outside together to replant the fallen apple saplings the wind had knocked down just like he'd promised.
The smile on her face was new and unmatched as she watched Bucky handle her plants with care.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him close, hardly wanting to let go as they stood in the middle of her garden.
Bucky was now rooted in her heart just like the plants in her garden were in their soil.
She didn’t think she could be away from him anymore. She didn’t want to be away from him anymore.
“Daddy, I’m hungry,” she whispered timidly as they started walking back to the house.
“What do you want on your piz- what did you say?” Bucky stopped in his tracks.
“I’m hungry.” She bit her lip and looked away quickly, hesitant now that his eyes were on her.
“Before that, doll.” Bucky brought her eyes back to his by her chin.
“D-daddy?”
Bucky smiled a smile that reached his eyes as they lit up with gratitude. He couldn’t believe he was finally hearing that word.
“Daddy’s thinking pizza, doll. Sound okay?”
Her face glowed up with her own smile as she witnessed Bucky, with full commitment, refer to himself as daddy.
She nodded, knowing this was going to be the most delicious pizza she was ever going to eat.
~
“What is daddy thinking?” She asked when she noticed his eyes on her, slipping a loose strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.
“Just thinking about all the things you make me feel, doll.” He smiled, turning his face to kiss her hand before it left his face.
Her face started heating up as she retracted her hand, tingles spreading all over her, “things like what?”
“You make me feel like there’s still good in this world. Like I’m worth patience and kindness and maybe even… love,” Bucky voiced his feelings, eyes dreamy as they watched her pretend to be focused on organizing her stuffies’ seats on the floor.
“You are, daddy,” she replied sincerely, hurting inside that Bucky might doubt this even a little.
“I can’t believe I was so horrible to you, doll.” Bucky’s sigh came out hot from his chest, holding so much regret.
“That’s in the past, daddy. Doll doesn’t think about it no more.” She smiled, her littler hand covering his own lovingly before giving a soothing squeeze.
“You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” Bucky held her hand up and gave the back of it a noisy kiss.
She laughed, face heating up more at the sweet attention, “no body’s perfect, remember?”
Bucky tried to continue laughing with her but he was still kicking himself for what he did to her during her visit to his house.
“How did you even tolerate me back then, doll? I was the worst.” Bucky covered his face with his hands as he threw his head back, laying on his back on the floor full of shame.
“That’s not true. You just misunderstood me and that happens!” She was quick to defend him, refusing the idea that he would even criticize himself, “daddy is the best.”
“I know, but it still gave me no right to treat you the way I did.” Bucky’s eyes teared up at the memories of his very mean words and actions, “I made you cry a lot.” He struggled to forgive himself for that one.
“Daddy, I forgave you, I swear,” she promised, her hands cradling his full cheeks.
She felt like her heart might stop from sadness if Bucky was to cry right now.
“I’m really sorry. I’m really really sorry, doll.” Bucky’s eyes were sincere, holding so much emotion in them that she felt her own begin to fill up with tears.
“Daddy, you don’t need to apologize no more,” she whispered, doing her best to hold back tears.
“You have made me the luckiest man on earth by accepting me as your caregiver, your daddy, and you’ve taught me so much, doll.” Bucky actually started crying, a lot of held-inside feelings coming out at once.
“Daddy.” Her thumb wiped under his eyes gently as she felt her own tears roll down, “don’t say stuff like that”.
“But I need to. Because you did. You taught me unconditional love and acceptance. You taught me what it means to live again. Doll, your patience with my terribleness has taught me that maybe I’m not a hopeless case after all, and that this shell of a man with a metal arm might be capable of things he thought have been wiped from his memory long ago.”
“Daddy, please stop crying,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead to his chin as her attempts at wiping his tears away have proven to be futile.
“I love you so much, doll. I love you with every old bit of me and if you’ll have me…”
“Daddy?” she raised her head, eyes on Bucky’s face, trying to read his expression.
Could Bucky really be asking what she thought he was asking?
“Doll, I want you to be my baby for more than just a few days. Would you give me that honor? Would you let me be your daddy for real?”
“Daddy, are you sure?” she nervously bit her lip.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything before.” Bucky promised.
She nodded frantically, afraid the offer might disappear if she took too long to respond, “yes.”
“Thank you, doll.” Bucky breathed as he pulled her to him, strong arms engulfing her in a protective hug.
“Daddy will not regret it later?” her eyes watched him, a small hint of doubt still tainting her trust.
“Do you like the moon, doll?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head, not understanding the relation between her question and Bucky’s answer.
“You know how our sky only has one moon?”
She nodded.
“My heart is just like that. It can only have one doll no matter how much time passes.”
“Oh.” She sniffled, trying to hold the tears in.
“I love you, doll.” Bucky gave her hair a long kiss.
“I love you, daddy.” She kissed his chest, her arms tightening their hold around him as best as she could, never wanting to be away from him again.
And she wasn’t going to be. Bucky was an idiot who let her go once; never again was he going to make that mistake.
He was blessed with her now and he was going to spend every day of his life proving he was worthy of this blessing.
~
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youronlydarlin · 4 months
Note
What if sleep deprived!reader is doing work late at night again, and what if Price fucks her to sleep ;) ((This has been in my mind for a week now)) (Im using anonymous because Im still shy-)
Hnhhhhh. S' is so fuckin hot nonnie.
warning: fem! reader, kinda brat tamer! Price and a very eepy reader, somewhat dumbification, rough sex to soft sex, somnophilia at the end, not proofread 😢
You know your husband hates it when you stay up late. Moreover if it was work he couldn't convince you to finish in the morning. But were you really to blame here? It's not your fault the deadline got pushed early. Besides, you wouldn't be doing this if you didn't have to.
That was the philosophy you believed in up until your husband came in and decided to put you to bed himself.
You were always so stubborn, but you were adding a whole new flare to it earlier. Making a big show about how "you have to finish the report now, lest you want your boss to beat your ass". And he understands, really, he does. A man with his line of work would understand the calling of responsibility more than anybody. Maybe the late hours of the night has finally gotten into your head. Cause that certainly wasn't an excuse to act up, talking back, and thinking you could banish him to the bed with only the presence of one. No, young lady that attitude will not be tolerated. What happened to his good girl, huh?
But you see, John's always spoiled you. Even during one of your fights, and tantrums. Since you wanted to finish your papers so much John decides to be the bigger person, and give you exactly what. You. Want.
This leads us to now. Both of your wrists are pinned against your back, John using them as nothing but a handle to fuck you back on his fat cock. You feel like a doll, all limp as you're fucked within an inch of your life right by your work desk.
You want to sleep. To slip into dreamland. But the bright light from your opened laptop, paired up with your husbands unrelenting thrusts inside your tight pussy prevents you from even closing your eyes.
Open mouthed, and mindlessly drooling on the papers you were fussing over earlier, John thinks you look best like this. Someone as pretty as you shouldn't be working, much less overexerting herself.
He takes pity on you. His poor, sweet, baby. You're just being forced by your stupid job to comply with even stupider work. Shhh, hush now, sweet thing. Your husband's here to help.
Thrusts slowing down, he gently lets go of both of your wrists. Seeing them carelessly fall to your side makes him coo softly at you. You're being picked up before your mind can even process the action. The blur in your vision makes the colors blend in with each other, and for a moment you see the world like a kaleidoscope.
Fatigue latches onto your bones like a pesky leach. The only thing grounding you is the fat cock nestled within your core. The jostle of a mattress takes you out of your delirium, the softness of silk against your back feels like heaven. What was supposed to be a satisfied sigh quickly turns into a pleasured moan as John gives a shallow thrust into your puffy pussy.
He knows your tired, but he just couldn't help himself. Seeing his princess finally in bed like she deserves. Whining and groaning, you can't eve bring yourself to lift up your arms and tell him to give it a rest. Give you a rest. But, he's doing you a favor can't you see?
John's leaning down in a second, kissing your temple shut. You feel your body slowly succumb to his ministrations. Whispering soft praises into your ear, while he grinds himself aimlessly in your velvet walls.
The feeling of it is oddly more relaxing than stimulating. Eyes closed, you feel powerless even as John slightly picks up his pace. You've accepted defeat, finally falling into the wistful sleep your body has craved. And John thinks you look absolutely breathtaking like this. Always so beautiful without trying. He gets closer and closer to release, using your unconscious body to get himself off. Cumming deep inside of your pretty, princess pussy.
a/n: AHHHHH. M' sorry for only being able to answer your request today nonnie, I know you sent this yesterday 😞 also like. I didn't know if you wanted something soft or rough, so I just added both. Also, this was a lot of fun to write! No pressure on keeping yourself anonymous, jus' know that you can always send in your horny thoughts. N e ways, I hope you enjoyed this! Have a wonderful day/night, my loves!
Yours, truly,
–dolly
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wlntrsldler · 2 months
Text
we can't be friends (wait for your love) | luke castellan
synopsis: where luke survives the battle of manhattan and returns to camp half blood, only to see you (his ex) in a new relationship.
based on we can't be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande
luke didn’t plan on making it out alive from the battle of manhattan, but here he was, back in camp half blood, wishing that he succumbed to his wounds instead of fighting to stay alive. the camp was different, cold and foreign to him, even though he’d spent a good chunk of his life on the campgrounds. all his best and worst memories were made at camp half blood, but that life seemed unreachable now. at this point, luke didn’t know if the memories that he recalled were actually his or if they were just tricks kronos was still pulling on him. 
the campers knew him as the ‘traitor.’ the kids he used to help with their sword skills cowered in fear whenever he approached them. the apollo kids only tended to his wounds because they had to and even then, they glared at him and wrapped the bandages just tight enough not to cut off blood flow. the satyrs who used to slip him strawberries from their fields, spoke about him in hushed whispers whenever he walked by them. but the thing that hurt the most was seeing you walk around with theo harvey, hand in hand, just like he used to do with you. 
he didn’t have the right to be upset. it’s been years since the two of you were last together, years since he held your hand in his, kissed your lips, felt you asleep on his chest. it was before he turned into this monster with hands stained with the blood of the people he considered friends, considered family. he knew you’d move on. he told himself that he wanted you to be happy, to receive the love that you deserved, but selfishly, he knew deep down that he wanted you to have that with him– not the theo harvey, child of athena, favored by the gods. 
at first, luke thought he’d be able to make it through the summer. as far as he knew, the older kids didn’t stay at camp half blood throughout the year, but he was thoroughly disappointed when he found out that a lot of the older kids stayed to guard camp just in case something happened. luke blamed himself for his own suffering. getting used as kronos’ host hurt less than seeing your lipgloss on theo’s cheek when they sparred; or noticing that the necklace he made for you when he was 15 was replaced by the one that theo bought you; or hearing your giggles from across the campfire while theo whispered corny jokes in your ear. he did this to himself.
it made him sick to his stomach. he discreetly moved into the poseidon cabin with percy (he grew tired of his siblings falling silent every time he walked into the hermes cabin. he no longer knew how to sleep in silence because it was always loud and rowdy when his siblings were involved, but alas, that changed too). luke was scared of it at first, knowing that he was on thin ice with the gods, but percy, being percy, scoffed. 
“you already tried to dethrone them,” the younger boy joked, trying to lighten luke’s broody demeanor, “i think you staying in a cabin you’re not assigned to is on the bottom of your list of offenses.” 
“dude. too soon.” 
“my bad.” 
the trio tried their best to cheer luke up. they knew that it was probably difficult for him to come back to camp after everything, but it became clear quickly that luke’s mood was not just due to everyone at camp hating him, but rather because one person at camp wanted nothing to do with him. 
anyone who saw you and luke interact before everything went down, knew that there was something between you guys that nothing in the world could touch. none of them knew the extent of your bond until it was your voice that snapped luke out of kronos’ control. it took one word. one syllable. luke. the second he heard your voice, it was like a switch was flipped in luke’s brain. 
percy made an ill-timed joke after the dust cleared, “if y/n was all it took to bring you back, we would’ve dragged her to see you a long time ago, buddy. would’ve saved us a lot of time.” 
“percy.” 
on the way back to chb, luke revealed that he made a deal with kronos to keep you out of harm’s way. he only agreed to be kronos’ host if it meant that he would protect you, keep you away from all the bloodshed of the war. the titan agreed but underestimated your stubbornness and prowess. when you showed up to the battle of manhattan, a part of kronos knew that his plan was spoiled. 
so luke’s actions, sulking during meals, spending too many hours training, opting to be alone, made sense to them. you hadn’t so much looked in his direction since he arrived at camp half blood; not even a smile, a wave, an acknowledgment of his presence. it was painful to watch luke stare at you from across the room, longing evident on his face, only breaking his gaze when theo finally showed up to take his usual spot next to you. luke still loved you, that part was clear, but at what point was it too much? 
annabeth, who’d watched your love story unfold, and was your number one fan, was heartbroken to watch your relationship crumble. she liked theo, her half-sibling was great, but luke was her brother and as much as he messed up, she felt bad for him. you were it for luke. if luke was going to end up with someone, it was you. she always believed that it was written in the stars, crafted by the hands of fate, professed by the goddess of love herself, that in this life you and luke would prevail and when your time came to exist in the afterlife, you’d find each other in elysium. but with how things were looking, annabeth began to question her own belief system.
it happened during one of the many nights luke couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried. he threw on one of the hoodies he left behind at camp before sneaking out of the poseidon cabin to smoke a cigarette, a habit he picked up during his days on princess andromeda. 
he saw you then, standing by the lake seemingly on patrol. he didn’t know that you’d be assigned to guard tonight. if he did, he probably wouldn’t have come out of the cabin. as much as he stared at you and scratched at his palms wanting to talk to you, he never made an effort to. he knew you well enough to know when you wanted nothing to do with someone and how you were treating him right now made your intentions very clear. 
luke was trying his best to be quiet, but he accidentally burned the tip of his thumb with his lighter and let out a hiss. you turned around immediately, sword drawn, in a fighting stance. you narrowed your eyes, trying to make out who was out of the cabins this late at night. 
“shit,” luke mumbled, stuffing his cig and lighter in his pocket. he’d been so distracted looking at you, trying to hide himself, that he didn’t notice the fire was so close to his skin. he raised his hands up, trying to show that he wasn’t looking for trouble, “i-i’ts uh, it’s just me. sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.” 
you froze in your spot, arm slowly falling to your side. you placed your sword back in its place, walking over to him, “luke?” 
it was pathetic how the corners of his lips quirked up in a smile at the sound of his name leaving your lips. he hadn’t heard it since that day and it made a warmth spread across his chest. he wiped the smile off his face as you got close enough to see him, afraid that you’d think he was making a joke out of the situation. he stood there awkwardly as your eyes studied his face and his body, probably assessing if he was a threat. 
“hey, y/n,” your name tasted sour in his mouth. he hadn’t called you that in years, always referring to you as baby, or babe, or love, or another cringy pet name that you pretended to hate but the blush on your cheeks said otherwise. using your real name felt too formal, like you were strangers. perhaps you considered him a stranger now. the idea made luke want to disappear. “i just uh, came out to get some fresh air.”
you stayed silent, pursing your lips as you continued to stare at him. luke tried not to think about how much of a mess he looked right now. the sweater was a size too small on him, sleeves falling short on his wrists. his pajama pants were wrinkled and stained with mud where they dragged on the floor on his way to the lake. his curls were a mess on his head. he ran a hand through his hair one too many times while he tossed and turned on his cot. the bags under his eyes weren’t the most flattering and the smaller scars that had been added on his face since the battle were disgusting to look at. 
he cleared his throat, “i can go back to the cabin, i-it’s really not a big deal. i’ll just crack a window open or something.”
“where are you staying?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, “i know you’re not sleeping in the hermes cabin. the stolls told me you haven’t been there in days.” 
luke rubbed the back of his neck, “i’ve been staying with percy. ‘m not really welcomed in my cabin right now.” 
“i see,” you replied. 
“yeah.” 
“you need to stop it.” 
luke gulped, “stop what?” 
“staring at me,” you licked your lips before taking your bottom lip between your teeth. you scruffed the bottom of your shoes on the grass, a tell that you were feeling awkward. he was brought back to the day you confessed your feelings for him. 
you were sixteen, he seventeen, right after he returned from his quest. he’d taken you out into the woods to get away from the judgment of the campers about his failed quest. he was lying on his back, pointing out the constellations in the sky, when you got up with your hands on your back. you shyly rocked back and forth on the tips of your toes and the balls of your feet, staring down at him with a red flush on your cheeks. 
you started dragging your feet on the floor, ignoring the dirt that kicked up from your actions that stuck on the fabric of your converses. you had mumbled that you liked him and luke couldn’t believe it. he asked you to repeat yourself, louder the second time, partly because he wanted to hear it again, and partly because he thought he was hearing things. when you groaned and walked away, fully believing that he was messing with you, luke jolted from his position and ran after you. he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around, proclaiming his own feelings for you in between fits of giggles and kisses to your cheek. 
this scene was the opposite of that. your stare was cold and serious, needing to get this point across. luke thought you looked different. physically, you still looked like his y/n– same hair, same eyes, same lips, but the look on your face was distant. you’d never looked at him like this before, like you didn’t know him at all, like he had no place in the life you created for yourself. luke didn’t know if it hurt more to have you ignore him like you had been doing for weeks, or have you look at him like this. 
“i have a boyfriend, luke,” you sighed, “you can’t keep looking at me like that.” 
“i-i’m sorry,” he stuttered out, tears burning his eyes. “i just miss you.” 
“please don’t do that,” you whispered, turning your head away from him. luke watched you wipe your tears with your forearm and all he wanted to do was engulf you in his arms like he’d done a million times before and hold you until the storm was over. “you don’t get to say things like that to me.” 
luke rubbed his jaw, trying to keep his hands occupied, “you know i can never lie to you.” 
“i need you to lie to me this time, okay?” you refused to look at him now. “i need you to say that you don’t feel anything for me anymore.” 
“i can’t do that, y/n.” 
“i spent years loving you and you left, luke. you chose to betray us,” you placed your palms on your stomach, trying to steady yourself. you felt like you couldn’t breathe. this is why you’d been avoiding him. you knew that the minute he made his way back into your life, you’d fall on your knees, at his mercy. a part of you knew that he wouldn’t do anything like that again, but you also knew that in the off-chance that he would, you wouldn’t survive a second blow. you barely made it out alive after the first one. losing luke for a second time would ruin you. “i like theo. i’m finally learning to live without you and i can’t lose all this progress over some wishful thinking. luke, i can’t do that.” 
“it’s not wishful thinking,” luke replied, sniffling. 
“stop it!” you sobbed, turning to look at him. your tears were streaming down your face, despair and hurt clouding your eyes, “stop it, please! i’m begging you to let me go. i-i can’t have you in my life. don’t you get it? i’m tethered to you. you’re the other half of my soul. you own a piece of my heart that i can never ever get back, but i-i’m exhausted trying to fight you off.”
luke’s shoulders deflated at the sound of agony in your voice. he took a step back, mouth opening and closing as he tried to will his mind to say something, anything, in response to you. but he couldn’t. where does he even start? 
should he tell you that it was the memories with you that kept him sane all those years he was held captive? should he tell you that he visited camp half blood despite knowing that it would cause more harm than good during those years just in the hopes that he could catch a glimpse of you? should he tell you that when the corners of his vision began to blur, it was the feeling of your hands pressing against his wounds that made him fight to stay alive?
he’d stay alive just to feel your touch, warm and steady hands on his tattered skin as he’d always remembered, for a second longer. he’d use his last bit of strength to place a kiss on your knuckles, injuries be damned because he needed you to know how he felt. he’d use his last breath to tell you that you looked beautiful, bloodied and bruised, under the light of the world burning around you. he’d spend the rest of his life hated by everyone in the world just to have you glance in his direction. he’d spend his time in the afterlife in tartarus if it meant that he had a shot at rebirth, in a life where you loved him again. 
“make it easier for me and put me out of my misery,” you choked out, “you at least owe me that decency.” 
luke knew that he was difficult to love. his mom went crazy because she loved him. his dad abandoned him because he was too much. thalia hated him because of who he had become. annabeth still flinched when percy made jokes about kronos because it reminded her of what luke did. luke knew that loving him was a chore, a burden, but he never thought that loving him would cause someone so much suffering. especially not you, who told him once that loving him was effortless, as easy as breathing in oxygen in the air. you once said that loving him was simple. it was second nature to you. 
now, he watched you cry out in pain. pain that he caused. and he knew he couldn’t in good conscience deny you of your request. luke stuffed his hands in his front pockets, “okay.” 
he looked at you, for the last time, before walking away, stumbling in his steps as he left you alone.
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lustfulslxt · 3 months
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It’s You - Matt Sturniolo
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summary : matt’s secretly in love w y/n, she bails on him and later realizes it was a terrible decision because it's him
warnings : very slight angst, fluff, smut
a/n : based on these texts (1, 2)
-
It didn’t take long for you to get ready and head over to Matt’s. If you were being honest, your nerves were wrecked. You felt so guilty for ditching him over a boy. Matt didn’t deserve that. He’s only ever been the best to you, and you were nothing less than selfish.
Sitting in your car outside of his house, you take a deep breath. He’s your best friend, you guys will figure it out. You shut the car off and make your way to his front door, deciding to knock rather than walk in as per usual. You’re not waiting very long when the door is unlocked and opened.
Seeing Matt feels like a breath of fresh air. However, at the same time, your guilt increases.
“Matt, I’m so sorry. I swear I wish I could take it back.” You immediately rush out your words.
“Why’d you knock?” He questions with a quizzical expression.
You falter a bit, “I-uh, I didn’t want to overstep in case you’re mad at me.”
"Come on." He says, nodding his head back for you to come inside.
He steps aside, holding the door open for you. You quickly walk inside, your hand finding his almost instantly. You can't help it, the fear of losing him urging you to bring him in closer. He looks down at your connected hands, his heart racing at the simple touch. He squeezes your hand tighter, pulling you up the stairs with him.
Your stomach flutters at the gesture, your mind racing with so many thoughts, yet nothing at the same time. You follow him back into his room, shutting the door behind you. He kicks his shoes off and lies back on his bed, beckoning you over. You copy his action before sitting beside him.
"So." Matt mutters, shooting a quick glance at you.
"About before." You start, a frown immediately pulling to your lips at the thought. "I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I was just so caught up in the fact that he was into me, I tried to do whatever he wanted to make it work. So, when he wanted to get together that weekend, I did. I never should've cancelled on you; I regret it so much. I'm really sorry, Matt."
He looks down at the floor, biting his inner cheek. "You really upset me."
Your frown deepens from his words, "I know, and you have every right to feel that way. I wish I could go back and undo it. You didn't deserve that. There's not much I can say, because I don't want to just give you excuses. It was wrong of me. I know you worked hard to get those tickets, and I truly am sorry."
"So, you're not seeing him anymore?"
You shake your head with wide eyes, "No, definitely not."
He gives you a small smile, "Good."
You squint your eyes at his response, before he's spreading his arms for you. You grin, crawling over and lying in his arms, squeezing for dear life.
"Any tighter and I'll explode." He chuckles in a low whisper.
You softly loosen your grip with a sheepish smile, "Sorry, I just don't want to lose you."
He sighs, "You're not gonna lose me, kid. Not now, not ever."
“I’m sorry, Matt.” You whisper, glancing up at him. “Honest.”
He brushes the hair from your face, staring down at you with a gentle look on his face. “I know.”
The two of you are met with a silence, but a comfortable one. Being with Matt always washes your worries away. He makes everything better without even having to put much effort, yet he always does. He gives you his all every single second of every day. You don’t know what you’d do without him.
“Do you wanna talk about what happened with your date?” He questions, running a hand through your hair as your head lies on his chest.
“I guess I just realized he’s not the man I want.” You admit after a moment of pondering.
“What does that mean?”
You turn your head, meeting his gaze. He has a curious expression and you can’t help but stare, lovingly. You’ve always found him so beautiful.
“I don’t know.” You lie, laying your head back down.
His hand moves around your face, grasping your chin to turn you back towards him. “Tell me.”
You’re so close that you can feel his breath fan against your face as he speaks. His bright blue eyes bore into yours with such intensity you find it hard to catch your breath. It’s like he’s put a spell on you. You’re suddenly in this trance and you feel the need to spill everything.
Your hand meets his cheek, softly caressing it as you contemplate admitting your truths. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for possible rejection. “It’s you.”
His heart starts beating faster from those two little words, but he needs confirmation. “Me?”
“You, Matt. You’re the man I want.” You finally say out loud, almost feeling a literal weight taken off of your shoulders for finally letting it out.
Matt feels like he's dreaming. He never would've guessed you'd ever say that, but he can't help the cheesy smile that plasters itself on his face. Your worried eyes glimmer at his reaction, hoping it's something good.
"Why do you think I tried so hard to get you those tickets?" He whispers, his lips almost grazing yours with every word.
"Say it." You whisper back.
"You know, Y/N." He breathes.
"I need you to say it."
"It's you." He repeats your previous words, making your stomach flutter with butterflies. "It's always been you."
Your lips turn upwards, flashing your pearly whites as you smile at him. Without another thought, Matt's hand tightens around your jaw, pulling you into him. His lips meet yours in a hard kiss, like any second you'll disappear. Your lips tingle from the feeling of his on yours, metaphorical sparks flying.
Your hand meets the side of his face, your fingertips brushing through his hair as your palm caresses his cheek. The kiss deepens as he slips his tongue into your mouth, exploring it like it's all he's ever known.
His hands trail down your body, squeezing every curve, making you softly moan into the kiss. He breaks away, his eyes wide and suddenly a lot darker than before. He swiftly flips the two of you over, hovering over you with one leg in between yours and holding himself up on his hands. He drops to one of his elbows, using the opposite hand to trace your bottom lip. His hand travels lower, closing around your neck in a soft grip as his lips meet yours again.
His tongue glides over yours so deliciously, humming into your mouth at the taste of you. You can feel his erection growing against your thigh, igniting a fire in your stomach. The desire that was put off for so long burns brighter, heat forming between your legs.
His lips part from yours, instantly trailing down your jaw and to your neck. He licks and sucks, nibbling the sensitive skin, eliciting soft whines from you that go straight to his dick. His hands slide under your shirt, gripping your warm skin, slowly moving upwards towards your breasts.
He pulls away with red, swollen lips, "Do you want this?"
"So bad." You beg, frantically nodding your head.
A smirk pulls to his lips as he continues working on your neck, letting his hands roam your body. They slide over your plush skin, gripping your boobs through your bra. You arch your back into his touch, heavy pants falling from your mouth. He pulls away and tugs at your shirt. You slightly lift yourself, allowing him to remove it, before he's pushing you back into the bed.
His bruised lips meet your skin in open mouthed kisses, leaving specks of saliva in his wake. Your skin burns beneath his touch, and you can't help but whine at the sensation, desperate for more. His teeth bite down on the skin of your collarbones, leaving marks behind. He continues doing this all over your torso, licking over said marks.
"Matt, please." You whine, bucking your hips up into his.
"Shh, I got you, baby." He hums into your skin as he pulls your bra straps down.
He nips at your shoulders, littering your skin with little bites and kisses. It's safe to say, you're drenched from his touch alone. You feel hot and bothered, needy for more stimulation at your core. His fingers grasp the little clip at the front of your bra, sliding it apart, freeing your breasts.
"Mmm." He groans, engulfing the soft mounds in his hands. "Always knew you had perfect tits."
His lips wrap around one nipple, tweaking the other with his finger. His tongue swirls over the sensitive bud, letting his teeth graze it, sensually. Your mind is hazy, and you're stuck in a daze as he repeats that action on your opposite nipple.
He grabs your waist, guiding you up to fully remove your bra, discarding it with your shirt. Before you lay back down, your hands are pulling at his shirt. He quickly lifts it over his head, tossing it aside, bringing you back into him, eager to feel your bare skin on his.
You bring his mouth to yours, feverishly kissing him as his hands continue feeling out your body. They travel lower and lower, grazing over the waistband of your pants. He glides over the fabric, moving to your thighs, squeezing the plush skin. You clench around nothing, craving to be filled.
He pulls away, eyes boring into your face as he gauges your reaction. His hand slowly trails up your leg, pressing into your covered heat. You close your eyes, taking your bottom lip in your teeth, holding back the sound that threatened to slip. A cocky smirk plasters on his lips as he works your bottoms down, leaving you bare as he pulls them off your feet.
He spreads your legs, admiring your glistening pussy on display just for him. The thought of you being just for him makes his cock throb with need. His fingers prod at your folds, your juices instantly drenching him with how aroused you are. Soft moans emit from your mouth as he slides his hand up and down your center.
"Need you inside me, please." You breathe, your hand latching onto his wrist.
"Are you sure?" He asks, eyeing you up and down.
"Please." You beg once more.
He nods, his hands immediately working his belt off. He unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down, along with his boxers. His hard cock bounces back up, throbbing for attention. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, your pussy clenching once again.
Matt scoots forward just a bit, getting between your legs with ease. He places his hand by your head as he hovers over you, holding his member in his opposite hand. He drags it through your folds, coating it in your arousal. He aligns himself with your sopping entrance, easily slipping in due to how wet you are.
"Oh fuck." You whine from the sensation, your eyes squeezing shut.
His breathing gets heavier as he slowly sinks deeper into you, filling you up so perfectly. Your hands grip his biceps as he bottoms out, feeling as if he sucked the air out of your lungs. Your pussy hugs around him so tightly, he's struggling to keep it together.
As soon as you adjust, he's slowly pumping in and out of you, pulling numerous moans from your lips. His strokes are deep and hard, yet slow and sensual.
"Been wanting to make this pussy mine for so long, fuck." He moans in a raspy voice as he continues thrusting into you.
He turns his head, kissing your wrist as your nails dig into his shoulder. He takes your opposite hand and intertwines it with his, squeezing hard. Euphoria overtakes your body with every thrust, eyes rolling into the back of your head from the feeling.
Your mouth falls open, lewd moans slipping from it as the pleasure builds. The knot in your stomach forms quickly with the way he's fucking into you so deliciously, leaving you clenching around him.
"Feels s-so good." You cry out, your face scrunching up in pleasure.
Your skin feels hot beneath his, it's almost hard to catch your breath. You feel a way you've never felt before.
"Tell me I make you feel better than anyone else, baby." He groans, snapping his hips into yours. "Say it."
You whine out from his words and his hard strokes, unable to form coherent sentences. "Feel better, oh my god. You, it's you. Fuck, I'm so close."
He moans at your words and continuous clenching around his cock, his hips sputtering from the feeling. He's been yearning for this exact moment for as long as he can remember, and it's better than he could've ever imagined.
"You're mine. All mine." He grunts with every thrust, driving you over the edge.
"Yes, yes, yes." You cry, as you come undone. "All yours, baby."
His mouth falls slack as he feels your juices pour out of you, producing a squelching sound with every pump. Your grip on his hand tightens as he continues fucking into you. He stares at your face, the way you furrow your eyebrows and bite your lip in overwhelming pleasure bringing him to the edge.
He lets out a guttural moan, shuddering as he empties his load into you, filling you up with his seed. He continues pumping, pulling out when it becomes too much for you both.
His hair slicks to his forehead as he leans back on his knees, watching his cum ooze out of you. The sight alone makes his dick twitch. Both of you are panting heavily, trying to compose yourselves from the exertion. You both lock eyes with goofy grins, instantly giggling with one another as if he wasn't just buried inside of you.
"I'm yours, huh?" You mumble with a dopey smile.
"And don't you fucking forget it."
a/n : shucksss, lazy ending i'm tired. not proofread, what's new? sorry for the wait, i lack motivation sooo much. anyways, hope it didn't disappoint. if it did, ig go cry ab it idk. smut one the poll bc we're all sluts, so that's what you got!
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