#this took me forever i never usually shade like this

[frogmittenss]

FATHERHOOD.

#house md #james wilson #and his cat #this took me forever i never usually shade like this #BUT I LOVE HIM SO MUCH #HE IS SO #GRRGRGREHIEKFFKCKJS #i am so normal about him. #what a beautiful man #house md art #worm's art #miss you pookie bear #oh lawrd #/ref im not that cringe

[luverboychris]

𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑴𝒀 𝑾𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑮𝑺 | 𝑪𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑺 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

IN WHICH.. you and chris broke up due to right person, wrong time. but what happens when you finally see him again after a year of distance?

simp!chris x fem reader, ex boyfriend, fluff, lil smutty, lil angst

tw: small mentions of panic attack, cutting

— 2.9k words / in honor of hitting 1k followers, here is a story mixed with everything! i hope you enjoy .. thank u sm

one year. one dreadful year being single. one year without having that person to cuddle with during your good and bad days. you missed having the ability to type his name in your phone and text each other back and fourth for as long as you wanted. the constant midnight calls. him wasting no time to get in his car and come over to you. yet, it wasn’t like that anymore. and, it hasn’t been like that for a long time.

you were the first to admit that you knew weren’t ready to be in a serious relationship. you knew it wasn’t fair to him, and you regretted even dragging him down with you. your mental health was complete shit, and you realized shortly after you had to break things off with chris.

but chris was the golden retriever to your black cat.

it was now the first party of the summer. you haven’t gone to a party in forever it felt like. it must’ve been a year and a half ago. but, your friend who never left your side wanted you to go out and socialize. it took plenty of convincing but you knew it was good for you to get out of the house and get a breath of fresh air.

“you look beautiful y/n. stop stressing. now let’s go inside, okay?” you friend reassures you. she locks her fingers with yours and gives you a soft smile to ease your nerves, and it worked.

but when that front door flung open, the nerves quickly came rushing back. the crowd of people with familiar and unfamilar faces. the lights shut off, with just shaded lamps in every room. you don’t let go of your friend’s hand as she leads you through the sweaty bodies, taking you to the kitchen.

she saw someone she knew a long time back and quickly got into a never ending convo with them. you felt out of place, pacing back and fourth right next to her. you look around, trying not to feel the awkward tension leaking off of you.

your eyes felt like they were deceiving you. there he was. chris with his beautiful smile and laughing with a group of people.

you couldn’t have him see you as you quickly hide behind your friend. “what are you doing?!” she questions.

“chris. he’s here.” you whisper in her ear. her vision directly leading to him.

“oh shit, he’s looking over here.” she panics. you couldn’t handle this. you couldn’t have him seeing you again.

“i need to leave.” you mumble before you make a run to the bathroom. it was a struggle trying to get through all the drunk and dancing bodies but you successfully get to the bathroom. and with just your luck, it was locked.

chris’ eyes widen and his face turns pale. could it be? he felt like he was dreaming when he saw you. his attention being completely wiped away from his friends and now straight onto you.

he sees you leave the kitchen as he pulls his arms out to push his friends out of his way, attempting to make his way to you.

you slam your knuckles against the bathroom door, knocking obnoxiously in hopes for them to open it. you should’ve just made a run for it and walked outside.

chris successfully pushes his way through everyone and is finally in the hallway with you. for a second you snap your head towards him, tensing up and not knowing what to do. you quickly turn your back to him. you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping he is too drunk to know it’s you. but you knew he knew, and you knew chris didn’t drink.

“y/n.” chris says. his voice sends your heart into panic mode, beating ten times faster than usual. you don’t turn around, and you know he is walking even closer to you.

“y/n, look at me.” he says. he reaches his arm out to your shoulder to turn you around to face him. you look down at the ground, slowly building the courage to look up at his face.

your eyes connect for the first time in a year, your faces inches apart.

“yes, chris.” you say. your voice is laced with hurt and attitude. but deep down, you were so fragile and missed hearing him say your name. your name sounded like smooth expensive silk coming out of his mouth.

“i can’t believe you’re here.. i can’t believe you’re in front of me right now.” he whispers, bringing his hand out slowly to touch your cheek. you flinch at the touch as you close your eyes.

“i still miss you” he says.

you let out a deep breath, and began to swallow all your pride. you couldn’t give in. you weren’t ready for that. but a part of you also needed to.

“chris..” you mumble.

“what? can i not tell you how i feel? i miss you, i miss you so fucking much.”

“i can’t do this here.” you lightly shout, looking around where you are. a loud party with drunk people surrounding the both of you.

“i agree. let me take you somewhere, anywhere. anywhere you want.” he almost pleads.

the way he wanted to just wrap your legs around his waist, locking your arms over his neck and kiss you.

“take me home, please. i’m so overwhelmed right now, it was all a mistake to come out.” you truthfully say.

chris was in shock that you were telling him to take you home. but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.

“of course, cmon.” he says. he wanted to grab your hand and lead you out of the party but he didn’t think it would be appropriate at this time.

you trail right behind him, leading the way towards the front door. your friend catches you in the corner of her eye and you mouth a sorry to her, while she blows you a kiss and smiles.

he unlocks his car, opening the door for you to get in before he walks to the driver side. why did he have to be so perfect? so handsome, such a gentleman..

—your apartment

your shaky hands puts the key in, unlocking your apartment with chris beside you. chris’ heart was racing yet kept his composure as all the memories went flooding back to him when he stepped inside.

“you changed it up..” chris whispers, scanning the new furniture and the paintings that replaced the pictures of you and him that once were his favorite to see every time he came over.

suddenly the uneasy yet familar feeling came over to you, and it was such horrible time for it to come. you were having a panic attack. and in front of chris for the first time in forever. you felt so embarrassed as you felt your breath become uneven and you feel yourself trembling. your muscles tense and you feel the world become dizzy.

“woa, woa.. y/n?” chris asks. however, you don’t respond. you begin to pace around your apartment, or attempt to. chris follows you, having his entire focus on you.

“t’s okay, look at me.. breathe.” he says. he always knew how to help you in situations like this. he rushes to your kitchen and grabs you a cup of water, having it in his hand ready for you to ask for it like how you used to do..

and shortly after, you bring your hand out to grab the cup of water, him being right there to hand it off to you. you take a small sip, letting out a deep breath.

silence shared between you as you kept drinking. chris wanted to rub your back, or your arms but he didn’t want to overstimulate you when your coming down from a panic attack.

“…i’m sorry.” you breath out. you look down, not having the confidence to make eye contact with him.

chris bends his legs just enough to get eye level to you, “hey, don’t you ever apologize for that. ever.” he says, “okay? you promise me that.” he adds.

you nod at him.

“now.. do you want me to start a bath for you or something? i know you used to like doing that after situations like this..” he asks softly.

“…please.” you let out. he couldn’t help but flash a genuine smile at you.

“of course, wait here and just relax and i’ll tell you when it’s ready.” he says.

you sit down on your couch while chris walks over to your bathroom. he caught himself looking at your stuff and smiling at himself. how you still color coordinate all your skincare, how your laundry hamper is always filled to the brim, how your favorite quote is hanging in a frame right by the sink..

he turns on your bathtub, keeping it a slightly hot temperature because he remembers when you jokily told him that you like when your skin boils from how hot the water gets. he threw in your favorite vanilla body wash, watching it create a layer of bubbles on top.

he set up two candles, and lighting them. the scent in the bathroom making chris smile from ear to ear, because it smells like you.

he dims your lights because knows you are prone to headaches, and he lets the water fill to the top before turning the faucet off.

“it’s ready for you.” he shouts through the hallway.

you set down your cup of water and walk in the bathroom. but, you weren’t expecting to see so much effort be put in just for a little bath.

“chris.. you didn’t need to do all of this.” you whisper, your hand over your chest.

“are you serious? i wanted to.” he says. you finally look up at him and he is already looking at you, his blue eyes looking so fragile in the dimmed lighting.

“thank you..” you say with such grace.

his phone quickly begins to buzz, as he takes it out of his pocket. “i’m sorry, nick is calling me. give me a second, okay?” he says. you nod your head at him before he closes the bathroom door and answers his brother’s phone call.

you hear the muffled bickering back and fourth between chris and his brother while you decide to undress yourself to get in the bath. you let your foot examine the temperature before anything and it was perfect. you slowly bring yourself entirely in the tub, being consumed by bubbles and that was exactly how you liked it.

chris soon knocks on the door but didn’t give you enough time to answer. “oh shit, i’m sorry fuck.” he says before closing the door yet again when he sees you’re already in the bath. the bubbles covering you, he didn’t even see anything.

“it’s okay chris.” you giggle.

he feels his face heat up. he opens the door just a smidge, “listen, i’m going to head out. you enjoy yourself and relax..” he says.

“w-wait.” you say. he stops from fully closing the door as he hears that slip out of your mouth.

“…stay please.” you say.

“but y/n.. you’re in the bath. you want me to stay on the couch and wait? because i will.”

“chris. just open the door.” you say. he listens to you and opens the door completely, now getting the perfect sight of you in the tub with your hair tied up in a loose bun.

he closes the door behind him, keeping his back against the wall while holding onto the doorknob.

“join me.” you say. you have your legs tucked into your chest as you look up at the slightly nervous boy.

how could he not be nervous? his naked ex-girlfriend right in-front of him asking him to come in the bath.

he looks at you for extra confirmation, and you give him a slight nod before he goes to lift his shirt off. you try your hardest not to bite your lip and you bet your eyes formed into hearts in this moment.

he unzips his jeans, pulling them down along with his boxer briefs. he was slightly hard and he hoped you didn’t notice but you definitely did. “…sorry.” he says.

“shush.” you say, “now come here please.” he joins you. his body facing you. your bath was the perfect size for you and chris.

“hi.” he whispers. you suddenly feel your heart begin to race like no tomorrow.

“hi.” you reply back.

he doesn’t say anything back, as he examines your features and starts washing your arms with the soapy warm water. his thoughts were nothing but him telling himself not to fuck up because he has been wanting to be with you again for the longest time.

he slides his hands down until his fingers touch your wrists. and that’s when he notices your skin trying to heal itself with all the cuts you’ve given yourself. he looks at them as he knits his eyebrows together, then looks up at you.

“y/n..?” he says, while gently rubbing your wrists back and fourth, “..you were cutting?”

“you weren’t supposed to see that.” you mumble. you started to self harm after you and chris split, and you never wanted him to know you did.

“but i did see it. and i care.” he brings your wrists up to his mouth, applying little kisses to your wrists. it didn’t hurt because he did it in the most delicate way yet you still felt cared for.

“chris..” you whisper.

“hmm?” he lifts his gaze up enough to look up at you while he still gives kisses to your wrists.

“i love you.” you say. you wanted to hold that in so badly but you couldn’t anymore.

“you do? still?” he says, completely side tracked after you dropped those three words on him.

“i never stopped..” you reply. his heart was about to explode.

“i still love you too.” he says, “that’s what i wanted to tell you at the party..”

he brings out his soapy hand out to your cheek, rubbing it softly. “please let me kiss you.” he whispers as he goes to kiss your neck ever so gently.

you let out a soft gasp from the touch as he makes his way down with kisses to your collar bone. “please.” he says again.

you grab a hold onto his chin to lift his head up just enough to pull him in to kiss you, and he immediately kisses your lips back. the taste of him starting to slowly come back and you didn’t realize how much you missed it until it was in the palm of your hands again.

he started to get so eager, wanting every part of you. you felt the exact moment when a switch came over him as he bit your tender bottom lip and pulls away just enough for you to feel a swelling sensation.

something comes over you too because suddenly just making out with him wasn’t enough for you, you wanted all of him. you let go of his lips, pushing him back just enough for him to watch you do your thing and you stand on your knees. he stays watching your every move, as if a love spell was casted on him.

you sit down on his lap as chris wraps his arms around your lower back, grasping on you like he never wants to let you go. your naked upper half now exposed to him. his eyes go from your face to your boobs, down to your lower stomach. soapy bubbles all over you and chris thought it was the most adorable sight in the world.

"you are so fucking beautiful my love."

he pulls your body towards his face so he can kiss all over your stomach. "..stop" you blush out. you missed how much he would praise you at any given moment.

"but i can'tttt." he whines, still placing kisses on your lower stomach.

you start to grind your hips slowly as you began to grow needy for more of him. he lets out a low groan when he feels your naked hips grind back and fourth on him.

you dip your hand under the water to grab his cock and allign it with your heat before sitting down on it completely. you both moan out slightly in unison when he fully goes inside you.

you go up and then slowly sit down again, feeling every inch of him go back inside you. you can't help but let out whispered moans every time you ride back and fourth. you forgot how good he felt. he snakes his wet hands that were on your lower back down to your ass and kept a grasp on it.

"..you feel so good" he cries out, "i missed you so much."

he lets one of his hands off of your ass and brings it up to your neck to pull you down to kiss him. you and him attempt to keep your lips together but fail as you couldn't stop riding him.

"i..." kiss "..love" kiss "you.." he says between every time your lips touch his.

"..i love you more." you breath out

─── aid speaks ᝰ.ᐟ ───

╰┈ ⌞₊˚ est. march 20, 2024🗒 ˎˊ˗ ⌝

no because this story was so cute to write i shed a tear.. chris is so cute in this one. i wanted to make a pt 2 but you let me know. and i forgot to write a 1k special story so thank you guys for following me it means the world fr. i love you all sm.

(didnt proof read couldnt be asked)

tags & ppl i love:

@slvtformatt (my star hi) @breeloveschris @recklessmatt @plasticferal @sturniololol @sturniolopepsi @mattshands @mattslutt @strawberrysturniolo o @gamermattsgf @lustfulslxt @stazsi i @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @whatrulookingat11 @strtuniolo @8blonded @mattslolita @mattsmad @haleyms @m9ttsverse @alexosllurr @imwetforyourmom @chr1sgirl4life @mayhem-72 @valeriestromboli @blahbel668 @whicked-hazlatwhore @roostersforevergirl @pepsiluvr0209 @strtuniolo @hearts4chris @matthewsfilmsss @madisonsslut @obsessivekniss @st7rnioioss @mattybearnard @ireadstoriss @hysteria-things @creamoncreamoncream2 @angelic-sturniolos111 @robins-scoop @sturnioloss @mattybsbitch @rozariah51911 @m4ttslvr @christurniolomyman @septumchris @inlovewithmattstur @eroticsturn @jjmaybankswifes-blog

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #smut #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo angst #fem reader #fluffy #romantic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic

[aphroditesbaby1616]

Lily of the Valley - (c.b. oneshot)

O/S INSPO:  Lily of the Valley Soothing, calming, draws peace and tranquility, and repels negativity. Assists in empowering happiness and mental powers. Married couples should plant Lily of the Valley in their first garden to promote longevity of the marriage.  POSTED DATE:03/30/2024 W/C: 4,114

A/N: FINALLY!!!! I am so sorry this took forever! This O/S is based on this adorable request from the LOML @daysofyellowroses - please check out her blog! I hope this satisfies your Carmy Proposing idea! I'm sorry it took so long i've been sick, but were back baby!!! Requests are opennnn y'all! This is also heavily inspired by my amazing OOMF @gingergofastboatsmojito - In another timeline Carmy still somehow came across Madame Stardusts jewelry (she transcends time and space that woman!) , & Stella exists too! If you want to meet more of that character in the universe Ginger created (I highly recommend you do)you can read that AMAZING FIC HERE ! Please be sure to leave kudos & comments & give Ginger all the flowers she deserves!!!

WARNINGS FOR BTC: Smut, Swearing, NO USE OF Y/N - As little physical description as possible, fluffy Carmen, OC Carmy - (He's more emotionally grown obvi hahah)

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 

You pushed the heavy, bulging tote bags full of groceries up your arm as you walked back to Your&Carmy’s shared Condo Building. The wildflower seeds you’d thrown on the little patches of grass on your walks to the train, along the sidewalk on your block had finally started to bloom. Adorable tiny little flowers in vibrant shades of blue, pink, purple, yellow, and white peeking out over the sidewalk's edge. 

Spring had most definitely sprung in Chicago by this point. Your commute whilst walking to work down Michigan Ave, passing the stunning array of tulips, had told you that fiercely every time you walked to and from the train this week on the way to work. It was finally Friday, and you couldn’t be happier. 

Carmen had been so busy this week- busier than normal. You’d usually just hang out with your best friends to fill that pathetic, lonely void while grading papers and doing your own assignments- but they were busy this week too! You were convinced the universe had bound you to loneliness this week, so naturally, all you wanted to do was get home, crawl into bed, and sleep- until Carmy came in around 2 to 3 am, and get that savored 15 minutes of cuddles after his shower, before exhaustion came over you again and you fell back asleep. 

You used your special key fob to get in the door of your condo’s shared building, which to your standards was very luxurious- it included amenities you’d never even thought of. You and Carmy had moved in together 3 months ago, it took a lot of convincing on your end. You and Carmy had lived on opposite ends of town, so every time you’d see eachother, (which was very often) -  it would be an hour's drive that he insisted- or, him losing the battle- and allowing you to take the train back all those stops. 

You weren’t particularly religious,  it was more just a personal preference - that you would be at least engaged before you were to move in together. Especially before having a mortgage together. You’d told Carmy this, and he’d given you the same answer each time over the last two years he’d been begging - “Baby we know we’re in love, you know we’re eachothers forever person - we tell eachother every day! We’ve been together 3 years, Let me take care of you” 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be taken care of- it’s just…you liked working. You loved your job, you’d went to school and earned a masters degree for Christ sake, and were currently working on your PHD. You couldn’t ever see yourself giving that up, and moving in with a boyfriend and him insisting on paying all the bills made you fear you’d fall pregnant, and then your professional life would be over. 

But, Carmen had insisted to you he wasn’t interested in children unless you were. You were sure at one point you never wanted them, but you were becoming more afraid, because seeing as amazing an uncle Carmen was, how naturally kind and understanding he was of children- it brought out something in you. It was so sudden that you could imagine turning your shared library / art studio into a nursery during slow time at work. 

You walked down the hall, in no rush to be home. The only presence waiting being your cat, Truffle, Carmy had insisted on the name due to his deep black fur. 

You approached the door, confused as to why you were hearing…music? From your apartment? You shook the hope of Carmy being home this early away, not wanting to be dissapointed. The neighbors downstairs must be blasting that same kind of jazz instrumental Carmy listens to so loud that you heard it through the floor. 

You unlock the door, and sure enough the music playing softly through the condo gets a tad louder but the first thing to catch your eye was the white and pink rose petals making a trail to the kitchen. You heard Carmy humming lightly, the sound of chopping on the cutting board. 

“Bear?” You quickly nudge the door shut with your hip, not even bothering to take your shoes off and rushing down the hall into the kitchen. Sitting atop the breakfast bar, was a vase packed with beautiful pink and white roses. 

He looks up from the cutting board “My favorite girl” he stops what he was doing immediately coming and taking the bags from your shoulders, setting them down before greeting you with a sweet kiss. He cupped your cheeks gently, pulling you in to him so you were flush together with his other hand.  

“You used our card f’that right?” He asked softly when he pulled away. You roll your eyes a bit, he had insisted you get a shared credit card, and that you purchase everything with it- and at the end of the month, he will show you the statement, and only pay a quarter of the total, just another one of the ways he assured every financial burden of yours was eased significantly. 

“Yes, what is all this baby?” You asked, motioning to the roses. “Did I forget somethin? Our anniversary isn’t for another 2 months” you asked a bit nervously. Carmen wasn’t a stickler for dates, but it would break your heart if you were to forget something important. 

“No- no. I just…just love you- I wanted to show you, and especially after this week I know I’ve been crazy busy, and I’ve been comin’ in late and leavin’ early, and…I just wanted to show my best girl how much she means t’me” he kissed your forehead sweetly and you felt a blush creeping to your cheeks. 

“That’s so sweet Bear. Thank you I love you, this is…no one’s ever done this- oh my god- are those balloons?” You giggled, seeing heart shaped foil balloons tied to your chair at the table and he smiled proudly. 

“Mmhmm, the lady at the flower place said that - we can talk about it later. You wanna cook w’me? You can just watch if you want?” He asked, gently brushing his fingers through your hair. 

“I never turn down a lesson from the best, let me go get changed real quick” you headed toward the bedroom and he stopped you by your hand pulling you back into his chest, kissing your neck with wet open mouth kisses earning a giggle that you couldn’t contain. 

“Mmm- don’t go in there right now, it’s for later. I already got your pajamas right here” he said going over to the couch and grabbing your favorite pair of sweatpants and his old ‘the beef’ tshirt that to you was the most comfortable thing in the world, especially when he wore it to bed for a few nights before giving it back. 

“For later huh?” You muse, taking off your heeled booties and unbuttoning your slacks before peeling them off and trading them for your soft fuzzy grey sweatpants. 

“Mmhmm” he hummed in response and took your pants for you and your blouse and bra as well, bringing them to the laundry room as you put the shirt on and got your hair situated into a bun. 

“What are we cooking today, chef?” You asked, heading over to the kitchen to see there were little bowls of vegetables that have been precut and you gasp happily. “Stop- are we really?” You giggled. 

“I told you that it’s easy baby but you hate eggplant so ratatouille isn’t gonna be something you’re a big fan of” he chuckled. You had watched the movie with him, and told him that the ratatouille dish looked insanely delicious and that you wanted him to make it for you, but he told you your aversion to eggplant would probably turn you off the dish. 

“But there isn’t eggplant” you said looking over the dishes filled with various vegetables. 

“That’s right, this is princess ratatouille. I’ve been figurin’ out different vegetables w’Syd that would work for it, we finally got it right. We have zucchini and a few different squashes, and we have onion and garlic, tomato, bell pepper, everything you like. I think you’ll love it baby.” He said rubbing your back gently. 

“Of course I’m gonna love it bear, I love everything we make together you have the magic touch. So what’s my job?” You asked eagerly. 

“You my special sous chef, are gonna help put the veggies in and I’m gonna do the sauce” He kissed your temple gently. 

“Ok! Let me get my apron” You said, happily turning to the drawer you kept your aprons in.

“Wait-” he said, holding your arm. You look back at him and he looked…nervous.”Is…something wrong?” You questioned, brows furrowed slightly in concern.

“No- no I um….i got you a new one” he said sheepishly, walking over to the island and opening up the cupboard beneath you never used. 

“Oh- ok..Leveling up are we?” You joked, happily leaning against the counter. 

“Jesus-” he chuckled, “Close y’r fuckin eyes- carnival psychic” he teases and you laughed, obliging and closing your eyes.

“Carnival psychic?” you asked and he came over gently putting bundle of fabric in your awaiting hands.

“I swear t’god- you went snoopin’? Open your eyes” he said. You opened your eyes, looking into your hands and seeing an apron. It was white, just like his, and folded perfectly. In thick black letters, intricately painted, ‘ Will You Marry Me? ‘ Adorned with a little red heart over the center pocket that had a square shaped bump.

You felt all of the blood leave your face, your knees feeling wobbly, your mouth gaping in to an O shape, as you stare down at the apron. “Where did you get this?” you whispered, completely awestruck. 

“I-I…um…made it?” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I- shit. Fuck- is this not how you pictured it? I’m so fuckin sorry babe- I-I thought…I dunno- like.. You wanted it private? Cause I know you said you’d never-” he’s interrupted by your lips crashing on his in a fervent wanting kiss, a mix of spit and teeth and lips and tongues, he moans softly into your mouth, squeezing your waist.

You were pressed together so firmly that the small box dug into your ribs, eventually pulling away from him with shaking hands and reaching into the pocket, pulling out the small black velvet box. You ever so carefully opened it, your breath catching in your throat when you saw the absolutely breathtaking ring.

“I-it’s not uh..not a diamond- cause I know you said-” you interrupt him

“Princesses and Queens don’t wear diamonds, they wear crystals” you finished, staring at the beautifully cut opal, at least 8 carats, banded by a intricate edwardian band… nothing short of a ring for a Goddess.

“But..But- this one…it does- it has both…because uh” he swallows thickly. “It…in my mind- when I s-saw it, it represented your soul, and your physical body.. And I liked that. Cause- y’re my diamond, but you’re also my queen, my everything, baby. Like how - how you said that…you wished your aura was opal? It is. It is, angel. And every time you look at that, I want you to remember that you’re beautiful from your diamond exterior, to your opal soul” he brushed his finger over the ring, before meeting your gaze once again.

He gently wiped the tears that were running down your cheeks freely, hot and wet and open. It was rare that Carmy genuinely used his words rather then his actions to express his love for you, so you were nothing short of savoring this. “Holy fucking shit” you laughed, shaking your head and looking down at the ring box. “Put it on my hand” you held your left hand out. 

He chuckled a bit, “so… yes? You will?” he asked carefully, pulling the ring out of the box.

“Are you kidding, YES! Put this ring on my finger and fuck me dumb- this is all i’ve ever wanted, Bear, I fucking love you- and youre asking if I want you to be my husband?! I’ve wanted nothing more for two years- at least!” you shake your left hand for emphasis, a wide large grin on your face.

He carefully slid the ring over your manicured finger, and it just made you cry more how it fit perfectly. “How do you know my size?!” you asked, since most of the vintage rings he'd bought you were adjustable so it didn't matter the size of the rings he’d gotten for you before.

He chuckled a bit, “so- y’re ring…y’know the one…y’thought you lost it at Chipotle like…ahhh- 8 months ago now? In the bathroom? Y’took it off at the table, you wore it on your ring finger so I had to take my chance. You kept sayin how it was like- the only ring you’d found that fit without takin’ it to the jewler. So uh” he dug in his jeans pocket, placing your beloved vintage ring with your starsign on it in your palm.

“I got that ring, based on the size. I got it uhhh…sorry dont be offended- it’s not new… I got it at an estate sale of this lady- it was crazy- the way I came across it babe… like fate. It was when Syd and I went to New York for that interview, she literally dragged me to this sale cause she said the lady who died was said to have a bunch of vintage fur and stuff she was looking f’somethin- anyway. We met the lady’s daughter- Stella? I think it was? Doesn’t matter… but she um..said her Ma was some crazy astrology nut, also said she only wore crystals. So I took a look… that was the first box I opened. And y’ring on my pinky, it fit perfect, so I tried it on- it fit like a glove. I’m glad we don't have to size it. Asked her if it was real, she said - her Ma told ‘er some…. Like life coach? Er- astrologer life coach author? Gave it to ‘er on a trip to Jamaica in the 60’s. Told ‘er ‘this ring will someday be worn on a hand proudly as a devotion of true love’- Miss- No! Madame ! Madame Stardust. Nutty name right?” he chuckled a bit. 

You smiled proudly at the ring, a devotion of true love indeed. “I think” you turned to the counter, stacking the bowls of vegetables together and putting them in the fridge as you friskily countered “you are not going in to work at all next week- wifes orders” you walked over to him, hips swaying. “And after you fuck me absolutely stupid” you grabbed his collar, pulling him in so your faces were meer inches apart “Oh- and we talk about how this mademe stardust? Confirms that our souls are indeed woven together like a fucking wicker basket” you kiss him roughly, weaving your fingers through his dirty blonde curls and tugging firmly. 

He moaned into your mouth, his hands trailing down and squeezing your ass firmly. You hummed in satisfaction, leaning against him and he stumbled back, back, back, pushing the bedroom door open with a squeak. You looked up, Breaking your kiss with wide eyes.

All throughout the bedroom, were printed photos of you and Carmy throughout the years, suspended with clear wire so it was as if the photos were floating midair. You clasp your hands over your mouth, admiring all the hard work and pure thought that had went into the gesture. You looked over all the photos, three years of memories hanging before you like a gallery of love surrounding you, all of your fondest happiest memories at every flicker of your eyes.

“Carmen” you whispered, walking forward and admiring each and every photograph…

He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“Y’know how you said no work next week…” he said softly, kissing up your neck with wet, sexy, open mouthed kisses. “We leave Sunday… F’Cyprus” He said hotly in your ear, his breath tickling your neck causing a moan to escape your lips as he gently lifts your shirt, palming your breast gently.

“Is- is that-” you breathe out

“We’re getting a tour of Aphrodites Baths” he said softly, rolling your taught nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Ah- y-you remembered?” you gasped, he let out a soft deep chuckle, Kissing the corner of your mouth and gently laying you down upon the soft sheets of your shared bed. 

“I’d have proposed over a year ago- when I got the fuckin’ ring if i coulda gotten us the tour sooner” he muttered into your skin, tugging off your- (his) shirt, leaving supple, gentle kisses over your stomach and up your ribs.

“Mm- are we- can we swim?” I asked hopefully.

He  gently wipes your tears away, “No” he said a bit sadly, “We can dip our hands… some asshole ruined swimming for people years ago…before we met…but- we were also gonna Parga Greece, baby. We’re spending 2 days in Cyprus, then flying to Parga on a charter- we can swim, fuck, do whatever in those waters baby. Amidst the Goddess of the Underworld f’five whole days” he smirked and you gasped, as if he’d gotten you the moon on a string.

“The Acheron River?” you whisper and he nodded, gently rubbing his thumb over your lips.

“That is the sexiest thing i’ve ever heard in my life- you’re gonna make me cum in the 2nd most famous river of Hell?” you giggled and he snorts a laugh, pushing you on the bed gently.

“Fuck yeah, you little fuckin’ freak” he teased, tugging off your panties and sweatpants in one swift pull, leaving you soaked and bare before him.

You gasped at the rough action, quickly being soothed by soft, sweet kisses over your hipbones. 

“I fuckin smell y’kitten fuck” he growled, kissing the inner of your thigh in the way that made you creen. 

“Shit- good- right? If y’compared me to a seafood market i’d break your nose” you teased, hooking the crooks of your knees over his shoulders, shivering when he leaned in closer, his hot breath directly over your clit- his lapis blue eyes boring into yours.

“That question doesn’t deserve an answer” he grumbled hotly, spreading your folds with his fingers and admiring the wet, slick, mess in front of him. “S’fuckin pretty princess- fuckin’ prettiest pussy in the world” he nearly moaned, burrying his mouth where you needed him most, eyes fixed on yours.

You couldn’t even make a sound- a hot breathy gasp escaping your slack-jawed stance as your head flopped back on the mattress with a soft bounce. “Mmmmm shit” Carmy hummed, satisfied with your taste as if he was devouring his favorite dessert.

“F-Ffuuuckkk” you whimpered out pathetically, voice cracking and bleeding out between the fracture lines of your hot intense pleasure.

“Mmhmm-mmmhmmm” Carmy mumbled confidently against your now firm clit, tongue flicking over it at a mind-numbing pace, bringing you right to the edge and hanging you there by a single finger.

“Ahhhh-Ahhhh-Fuck!! Carmy! Oh- ohhhh!!!” You whined, spine pointing in an arch off the mattress, your hips and thighs quivering and shaking wildly as your orgasm crashed over you like hot lightning before you could even warn him, or know yourself it was so close.

“Goooood girl, thats it- mm- my good fuckin’ girl- Y’gonna be my fuckin’ wife baby? Mmm? Gonna be mine? F’rever?” He grumbled, placing a gentle kiss to your clit before placing gentle yet firm pressure over it with the pad of his tongue that made your hips buck with a mind of their own.

He chuckled slightly into your heat, the vibration causing you to whine pathetically. “Y-yes-yes-fuck i’mfuckinyoursBear-y’gonnamakemey’wife? Yeah? Gonna make me Mrs. fuckin Carmen Berzatto?” you slurred, pulling him into a messy wanting kiss, soughing at the flavor of your core coating his spit.

“Fuckin- spit in my fucking mouth- claim me” you groaned. He smiled against your lips, pulling away slightly, a thick hot string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“So fuckin dirty” he grumbled with a smirk “Open that filthy fucking mouth” he ordered, getting quiet for a moment as he gathered saliva in the front of his mouth.

You obeyed him immediately - your jaw going slack, tongue stuck out ever so slightly and eyes fluttered shut. Then- you felt it, hot, sweet, salty saliva coating your tongue, you groan at the flavor as it continues pooling over your tastebuds. “Do not fucking swallow yet- greedy girl” he tapped your chin firmly, before pulling your jaw open wider with Tthe pad of his thumb. 

“Stick out that pretty little tongue” he grumbled, you obeyed with a smile, opening wide as you could, sticking your tongue out far, showing off the creamy white saliva he’d dressed your tongue in, so much it was seeping down onto your chin, threatening to coat the front and back of your throat.

“Good girl- that's my good little kitten” he purred, “How d’you want me princess?” he gently collected the excess saliva from your chin on his thumb, sucking it off his digit hotly as he awaits your response while you swallow gratefully, the taste setting your soul ablaze.

“I want you to fucking claim me, Carmy, holy fuck- use me, worship me, fuck me like a goddamn animal- whatever you fucking want- please” you begged after you’d savored the taste while you swallowed, his sky blue eyes going dark as navy slacks with lust at the admission. 

“Yeah? Why not all three?” he pushed you down to the mattress by your throat, not hard enough to bruise- but hard enough for the breath to leave your lungs and your core to throb so hard you were clenching your thighs, trying to give any solace of pressure to your swollen aching clit.

“P-please” you stuttered, writhing against the mattress and he chuckled darkly. 

“Are we a little needy? Mmm princess?” he pushes your knees apart with his thigh, aiding the throbbing pressure with his strong fingers, rubbing firm, slow circles into the twitching bud that made your hips snap into the mattress and head fall back to the bed, eyes rolling back with a sharp gasp of pleasure. 

“Pl-please-” you gasp out, spine arching sharply as he replaced his fingers with his mouth on your clit, 2 fingers slipping inside of you with no resistance due to the fact your core was so soaked it was beginning to pool at the dip of your bum and soak the sheets. The squelching as he pumped into your g-spot mixed with your high-pitched moans and frisky growls was absolute sin.

He opens his jaw wider, tonguing your entrance wildly and nuzzling his strong nose against your clit in broad strokes, randomly flicking back and forth quickly making you squeal in pleasure as you grind against his mouth, fully out of control of your movements as if you were a puppet on a string.

“H-Hooooo-i’m cumming- oh- don’t you dare fucking stop Carmen” you growled, grabbing his curls and pullinghim further into your core. “I’m cumming- i’mcumming-holy-holyfuck-imfuuuckiing-AAAH!” your thighs and hips shake and quiver, stars of ethereal white filling your vision.

“Mmhmmm” he grumbled, coming up and sucking your nipple with his slick lips, his chin and nose soaked with your arousal, so much so his chin dripped onto your ribs. 

“H-Oh-yes Bear” you whined out, head tilting to meet his gaze. “I need you- I-I need you inside- like- fuck- when you- you have my knees around your hips and y-you fuckin’- just drill me Carmy- I need that- need you deep” You reverberated wantingly, wrapping your thighs around his waist taughtly, making it easier for him to take you exactly how you wanted.

“Jesus Christ- I can’t fuckin’ stand y’baby. Y’re like a fuckin’ drug- it’s like I fuckin’ function unless I’ve had a hit” he nibbed your collarbone, quickly removing his jeans and boxers, aligning himself with your entrance.

You gave him a mischievous smile, inching your hips forward. “C’mon- I don’t give a fuck ‘bout cooking right now- fuck me absolutely dumb- then take me to Sam’s f’r chocolate chip pancakes- sure that waitress will be over the moon bout my ring” you mused, capturing our lips together, as he scoops up your shoulders and holds you chest to chest, your third of many orgasms that night building throughout every muscle.

It was going to be a long night….

#carmen berzatto #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #the bear fic #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #the bear #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fandom #borders & banners by saradika

[middleearthpixie]

Can you please write a fic where Thorin falls in love with a human girl, but he thinks she is disgusted by his looks? 🙏

Hi there, Nonny!! I know it took me forEVER, but here you go and i hope you like it! 💜

The Harp

Summary: You and Thorin are friends, but then you find out his feelings for you run deeper, and he’s holding back because he feels he is not good enough for you.  

Pairing: Thorin x fem!Reader (post-sack of Erebor, pre-quest for Erebor)

Warning: None. Just fluffy fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 4.7k

***

He came into the dining room at the same time each evening and always sat at the same table—the one in the far corner, which was also the darkest corner of the room. He was polite, but kept to himself and you noticed how he always sat with his back to the wall and rarely did his eyes pause from scanning the room. 

The other diners eyed him with just as much suspicion but then again, they all eyed each other with suspicion as well. It was second nature to this lot, as they came from all four corners of Middle Earth. No one was actually from Emyn Vanya. No, every warm body had come from somewhere else to this tiny village on the outskirts of everywhere and yet somehow in the middle of nowhere. Some came to start over. Some came to forget. Some came to do both and some were just passing through. But everyone was from somewhere else and almost no one wished to discuss where that somewhere else might be.

You couldn't help but notice him, for he was a dwarf and the Grey Gander did not see many dwarves in their dining room. And not only that, but he was a handsome dwarf, to boot, with black hair, touched here and there with hints of silver, that spilled over his shoulders in a long tangle of curls. His most striking feature was his eyes, however, for they were the most piercing shade of icy blue you’d ever seen. There was a hardness within those pale eyes, one belied by his polite demeanor and deep, if soft, voice. 

Night after night, this man came in alone. He sat alone. He spoke to no one other than you when you approached to take his order, just as you did this evening. He was polite, if reserved, and spoke only when absolutely necessary, which was an interesting change from the patrons who grew louder and more opinionated as they dove further and further into their cups. 

“Welcome back,” you said with a smile as you approached him. “Might I fetch you a drink to begin?”

“Thank you. A tanked of ale would suit.”

“Of course. And do you know what you’d like or are you still trying to decide?”

He looked up at you with those striking eyes. “The hunter’s stew.”

His order never varied and you were certain you could just bring him a bowl of the stew without asking, which was why you couldn't resist a bit of playing with him. “I think we should start calling that your usual. Perhaps we should change it on the menu itself.”

That earned you one of the dwarf’s rare smiles. “I am not so certain that is necessary.”

“Well, you’ve been in here eight of the last ten nights and have yet to order anything different.” You couldn’t help teasing him. You sensed a hint of sadness in him, one that might explain the hardness in his eyes. And while it was a bit of a risk, teasing this man you didn’t really know, you had to admit, his smile made the risk worthwhile.

“But,” you added, taking your teasing further than you normally did, “you would have to tell me your name first. I certainly cannot ask to rename it Dwarf Stew. That would give the wrong impression, don’t you think?”

A darkness flashed through his eyes and you knew you’d overstepped. Your mind raced as you struggled to come up with something to smooth over his obviously ruffled feathers, knowing your employer would be furious if your flippancy drove away a paying customer. “I mean… that is… I apolo—”

“No,” he interrupted softly, shaking his head, “there is no need to apologize. And you’re right, it would sound odd. So, I suppose then, it would only be fair to tell you my name, wouldn’t it?”

Your heart beat a little faster at that. Perhaps it was but your imagination, but his voice sounded lower than it normally did. Lower and bit growlier. Had he, by any chance, noticed you the way you’d noticed him?

No, that was madness talking. Very few people noticed you aside from being their serving girl. You tended to blend into the background far too easily and since so many people in Emyn Vanya were only passing through, they paid little heed to you.

Still, that didn't stop you from replying, “It would, yes.”

To your surprise, that earned you a laugh. A genuine, honest-to-goodness laugh and one that sent flutters through you as it rolled across the small table in your direction. Like his voice, it was low and silken, and those flutters made you forget your own name for a moment.

“Very well,” he nodded, his eyes meeting and holding yours, “I am Thorin.”

You offered your name in return and added, “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, Thorin.”

“And yours as well.”

Heat climbed into your cheeks and you ducked your head, saying, “I will be back in a few moments with your ale,” you hesitated, then added, “Thorin.”

“I will be here.”

Thorin sat back as you darted off and couldn't believe his cheek. What had possessed him to even think to flirt with you? Your interest had to be only because he was a paying customer, because there was no way a woman as beautiful as you could possibly be interested in him. 

The first time he stepped into the Grey Gander, he’d noticed you at once, noticed how easily you smiled and joked with the tavern’s patrons. Your laughter was a silvery melody that made everyone turn in your direction and smile even if they had no idea what it was that made you laugh. 

He noticed everything about you—from that amazing smile and intoxicating laughter to your beautiful eyes and easy grace with which you moved about the crowded dining room. You never seemed impatience, or irritated, and even when someone gave you a hard time about something, you never lost your temper and somehow managed to defuse the most volatile of situations. 

The second night he’d come in, he’d witness such a scene, almost reaching for his sword, propped against the table, when the giant of man actually grabbed you by the arm. He had no doubt he’d have intervened if you needed it, but you didn’t. You smiled at the man as you peeled his fingers from your wrist and very sweetly informed him that if he touched you again, you’d turn him from a rooster to a hen in one fell swoop. 

It was at that moment, Thorin lost his heart.

A foolish notion at best, as you would never feel about him the way he did you. Why would you? He was a dwarf. He had no home. He had been in line for a throne, but now supported himself by moving from place to place, taking work where he could find it. 

That was what brought him to Emyn Vanya. His trade was blacksmithing and the village needed one. So, there he was, in the dining room of the Grey Gander, admiring you from afar and wishing he stood a chance at winning your hand. 

It was just as well, for what did he have to offer you? A king with no kingdom was no better than a pauper, really. Not to mention, he certainly couldn’t compete with the men of Emyn Vanya, who were all taller, slimmer, and far more attractive than he certainly was. You would be a fool to even consider him.

But, he watched you from afar, watched as you moved from table to table, how you brought a beaming smile to the face of an old crone, how you soothed angry children bickering over a toy, how you made a crying infant smile by making silly faces until they could do nothing else. 

How you focused on him as if he was the most interesting man in the room and not, for lack of a better phrase, a homely, homeless refugee. 

If only…

He sighed as you approached with a tankard in one hand. His heart beat so much faster when you met his gaze. His mouth went as dry as the plains between his lost kingdom of Erebor and the city of Dale after the dragon Smaug torched it from one end to the other.

You set the tankard before him. “Your supper will be ready in but a few minutes, Mr. Thorin.”

Mr. Thorin. He smiled, shaking his head. “No Mister. Thorin is just fine.”

“Oh, well that wouldn’t be proper now, would it?” Your eyes almost sparkled as your easy smile curved your lips. “After all, we only just met.”

“This is true,” he nodded, reaching for the tankard. Then, on impulse, he added, “Perhaps you might join me one evening?”

You looked taken aback and he immediately berated himself silently. You fool! What is wrong with you?

But then you smiled. “I think I would like that. I have an off night tomorrow. Would that work for you?”

He was stunned, not only by your agreement, but by your suggestion. No woman ever approached him that way. He’d always been the one to ask. You were bold and he admired that. So, he nodded. “That would work just fine for me.”

“Wonderful. What time?”

“Half seven?”

“Half seven it is,” you told him. “And I’ll be back in but a moment with your supper.”

****

What were you thinking? How could you just blurt out an invitation to him that way? He must think you a harlot, or a wanton woman for doing so. 

But at the same time, as you smoothed a hand along your skirts, you had to admit, you looked so forward to seeing him without having to wait upon him. It was a nice change of pace for you. A break in the monotony of your life that was work, sleep, and more work.

You’d told him where you lived, a rundown little flat above the florist’s shop, and at half eight, when the knock came at the door, you nearly jumped clear out of your skin. Then, laughing at your foolishness, you hurried to the door, before he thought you’d changed your mind and left. 

You smiled as you pulled open the door. “You are early.”

“I allowed myself extra time in case I found myself lost. I’m still new to these parts and this town takes a bit of getting used to.”

“If you remember the streets run east and west, and the avenues run north and south, you might fare better.”

He bobbed his head. “I would, but there are three florists on this street alone.”

“It is a very competitive business in Emyn Vanya.”

“So I’ve noticed.” 

You hesitated a moment and then stepped aside. “Come in.”

As he stepped over the threshold, you tried not to dwell on how shabby your flat was, with its scratched and scuffed hand-me-down furnishings. After you paid your rent and made certain there was food on the table, there was not much money left for luxuries such as nice furniture. Normally, it didn't trouble you. This was your home and you thought it cozy, if a bit rundown. But, when you tried to see it through Thorin’s eyes? 

You saw exactly how awful it must have looked to him. Threadbare sofa. The armchair had a hole in the cushion thanks to a broken spring, which meant that not only was stuffing peeping up from the hole, one received a nasty poke in the backside, should they think to sit there. 

And of course, there was that awful water stain in the far corner. You had no idea from where it had come, only that no matter how much you tried to paint over it, it bled through. You’d given up trying when paint fell into the luxury category.

But, he reached up for the frogs at his throat and then whisked his cloak off to drape over his arm. “This is lovely.”

Lovely? You looked about, wondering exactly what he found so lovely about it. “It’s a bit… ah… worn, don't you think?”

“Lived in, is how I would describe it.” He smiled at you. “Homes should be lived in. That is how they become such. Otherwise, they are but houses, flats, nothing more than buildings.”

You looked back at him. “Lived in?”

He nodded. “Lived in.” 

Then he looked back at you and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. Did he have any idea whatsoever as to how handsome he truly was? Because if he did, he certainly did not act as if he did.

Of course, you kept that to yourself, especially when that night, a deep friendship was born. You had dinner together on the nights when you weren’t working. You spent off days together, sometimes running errands with each other, sometimes just doing nothing. He had a knack for the acrostics printed in the village newspaper and the two of you spent your share of days or nights looking up which answers you thought would work. It didn't matter. He had quickly become your dearest friend and while you loved that, you’d also begun thinking that perhaps there was a bit more to your relationship than only friendship.

It was too bad he’d never given any indication at all that he saw you as anything more than a friend.

So you stayed quiet. Autumn gave way to winter and the Yule holiday was only a few days off when you made your way to Thorin’s forge at the northern end of town. A bitter cold wind whipped down the narrow alleyway where his shop was located and you didn't have to look to know you were near it. The carved wooden sign identifying the forge creaked on its hooks as it swung in the wind. Through the swirling snow, you could still make out the word etched into the wood. 

Blacksmith

Beneath that word, Thorin had carved symbols as well, and when you’d asked, he’d smiled and explained that they were a language called khuzdul, which was his native language, actually. He’d attempted to teach you some of it, and showed nothing but patience as you fumbled over seemingly simple words. Little by little, though, it became easier and left you wishing you had something like that to share with him. 

But then you found something. One night, over several goblets of wine, he confessed that he once played the harp, but had lost his when he’d lost his home, but that was all he would say about either the harp or what happened to his home. So, you’d saved a bit of your pay each week and put it aside and then went to the music shop at the far end of town and found what you’d hoped would be a suitable replacement harp. It wasn't a big, grand instrument, as those were far beyond what you could ever hope to afford, but you hoped he’d like it the same. You couldn’t remember the last time you were so excited and impatient to give someone a gift as you were this one, which was why you braved the worsening weather.  

So there you were, at the far end of a gray-shingled building with a roof in need of repair, listening to the almost melodic sound of metal striking metal. The closer you drew to his workshop, the warmer the air grew and as you rounded the corner, a blast of heat hit you square in the face. It was a welcome sensation as your cheeks felt quite numb from the cold. 

He had his back to you and heat shot through you at the sight of him, shirtless in deference to that blasted heat, the muscles in his back and along his shoulders bulging as he held a piece of iron in one hand, a hammer in the other. The clang rang through you when he brought the hammer slamming against the iron, again and again and you couldn't help but just stare. 

Your eyes roamed over his naked back, heavy with obviously well-earned muscle, and inked with black lines of varying sizes that covered his entire shoulder, stretched across his back, and into the opposite shoulder as well. You had no idea what the symbols and lines meant, but they looked very similar to the ones carved into the forge’s sign, so your guess was they were dwarfish runes or words.

The heat in the forge was brutal regardless of how cold it was beyond the walls. Sweat prickled along your back as you stepped closer. You didn't want to startle him. The iron with which he worked began with an orange glow, but slowly, as he pounded it flat, the glow faded and when he set down the hammer and used a pair of tongs to pick up the flattened piece and thrust it into a tub of water, steam actually rose from the tub.

“Thorin?”

He jumped, letting go of the tongs as he spun around and now heat shot up into your cheeks at the naked chest you found yourself staring at. Like his back, his chest was just as broad, with black hair swirled from one nipple to the other and down across his belly. More symbols had been inked across it, meeting with the design on his left shoulder.

“I am so sorry,” you stammered, tearing your eyes from that impressive sight to meet his startled blue eyes, “I was trying not to startle you.”

“What are you doing here?”

You hugged the package close. “I had to go and pick something up and thought while I was out, I’d stop by.” You peered around him, at the iron still resting in the water. “What are you making?”

“A sword.” He reached for the towel draped over the workbench and swept it across his forehead. “You should not be in here. It’s far too dangerous.”

“I will come no closer then. But tell me, who commissioned the sword?”

“No one. It is mine. I work on it when I’ve a bit of free time.”

“Might I see?”

“It’s not even close to being finished.” He came around the bench and stood before you. His black hair was damp at the temples. 

“You don't have to stop on my account, you know.” You took a step closer to him, the urge to reach out and touch him so powerful, it nearly overwhelmed you. You wish you had the courage to tell him how you’d come to feel about him, as you’d had when you’d left your flat. You’d left there full of fire and determined to confess your feelings for him, but unfortunately, by the time you reached his forge, that courage evaporated like the water in the tub had. 

“It would be rude of me to continue.”

“Not at all. I think it would be fascinating, watching you work.” 

His gaze shifted slightly to his left and you followed it to see what he looked at—a heavy dark gray henley lay draped over a chair by his desk. Without thinking, you shifted the package to one arm and reached out to catch him by the upper arm as he stretched for his shirt.

“Wait, don’t,” you said, shaking your head.

“Don’t?”

You nodded. “I—what is this?” You traced your fingertips along the thick black lines curving his shoulder, unable to believe your own brazenness but unable to halt your touch as well. 

“It’s my… my… it’s a raven,” he managed, his voice deep and huskier than usual. He cleared his throat. “The symbol of my clan, and my family crest.”

You could not keep yourself from tracing along those lines as little by little, the image of a raven wearing a crown slowly showed itself to you. You’d held back from telling him how you felt for so long, now that the opportunity to perhaps go beyond friendship had presented itself and you were not about to let it slip by. But… you had to be careful. It was a delicate matter and that called for delicate handling. The last thing you wished to do was destroy your friendship with him.

With that, you lowered your hand “It’s lovely.”

“Thank you.”

“This is for you, by the by.” You pressed the package toward him. “I know Yule isn’t for several more days, but when I went to pick this up, I grew far too impatient to wait.”

He stared down at it. “What is it?”

“Well, you have to open it to find out.”

He took the package and slowly unwrapped it and then just stared, his blue eyes growing shiny as he murmured, “How did you know?”

“You told me, silly.” You nudged him with your shoulder. “Remember? We were talking about how my neighbor plays the harpsichord and how awful it sounds and you told me you once played the harp. So, I asked Mr. Trumble if he could find me a harp for you and he did me one better. He made this.”

“He—” those blue eyes met yours, wide and incredulous—“made this?”

You nodded. “He did, indeed.”

He gazed down at the harp, and then back at you. “I—this—this is beautiful. I thank you.”

“There is one condition to it, however.” You nudged him once more. “You must play it for me.”

“Oh, I couldn't now. I’d be far too rusty.”

“Well, once you flake off all the rust.”

“Fair enough.” He offered up a smile brighter than any you’d ever seen from him. “You shouldn’t have done this, though. Save your wages, don’t spend them on me.”

“I didn't mind.” You shrugged as if you spent that kind of money all the time. “And it’s Yule, so it was but a small sacrifice.”

He stepped closer. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, you know. I will treasure it. And you.”

And with that, he leaned in and to your surprise, pressed his lips to yours. You froze at first, caught by utter surprise, as this was the last thing you’d expected him to do. For one maddening moment, you wondered if perhaps you were just imagining it.

But then, his lips moved softly against yours and your toes actually curled in your sensible boots when he brought his hands up to cup your face, and you knew that this was, in fact, actually happening. And how wonderful it was! The sensations that rippled through you were soft and sweet, the crisp, coarse hair around his mouth tickling at first, but then you found you didn't mind it so much as it was a caress of its own. 

Your head did a slow spin, his kiss leaving you lightheaded and when your hands came to rest on those massive upper arms of his, your fingers pressed into muscle that greatly resembled stone of their own accord. You were afraid your weak knees might buckle on you at any moment.

His kiss was slow and sweet, teasing and gentle and when his lips parted and his tongue swept gently along yours, your head spun even faster. A rush of heat swept through you. Your lips tingled. Your heart beat harder and faster and it took every bit of will you had to not melt right into his arms. 

When he drew back, his eyes were soft, swirling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place and he seemed as breathless as you were as he murmured, “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time now.”

“What?”

He nodded. “I do and I did and now I just want to do it again.” Then he paused, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his smile, into his eyes, “Unless, of course, you’d rather I didn’t.”

“No, I’d not rather that at all,” you told him, smiling as you curved a hand against his cheek. “In fact, I’d like it very much if you would do it again. And again. And I think you should keep doing, no matter where we might be.”

A low chuckle rumbled up from the depths of his chest. “So, I am not about to send you screaming into the snow?”

“Hardly.” 

“Are you certain? I mean,” he rubbed his bearded jaw ruefully, a sheepish smile coming to his lips, “I know people whisper about me and poke fun at me behind my back.”

“They whisper about you because they are fascinated by you. And no one pokes fun at you. I know they think you’re quite an excellent smithy, judging by what I’ve heard. And I won’t even tell you what the women say about you.”

To your surprise, his sheepish smile faded and a darkness came to his eyes. “I can only imagine.”

“Have I said something wrong? I thought I was complimenting you. Do dwarves not like to hear how handsome they are thought to be?”

“Handsome?” He snorted as he shook his head. “That’s kind of you, but I’ve seen my own face and that is not how I’d describe it.”

“Well, perhaps you should but have Mr. Sinclair examine your eyes, for you are not only handsome, but very handsome.”

He stared at you, clearly not believing a word you said. “Thank you, but you are just being kind, as you’ve been since we met.”

“Thorin,” you caught his hands in yours, “I’ve been wishing you’d notice me as more than simply your friend, that you’d kiss me, and perhaps I’ve been too brazen in taking the first step. If you wish me to leave you alone, I will.”

“Leave me alone?” His eyes went wide and he shook his head once more. “No, no, I don’t wish that at all. In fact, I—”

A scarlet flush swept up into his cheeks and he went quiet. You waited for him to continue, your heart hammering away at your ribs. All you wanted was for him to pull you into his arms, to tug you flush against that massive chest, and kiss you until you forgot your name.

“You what?” you asked softly.

“I lied. About the sword.” He smiled then. “It’s for you, actually. For Yule. I meant it to be a surprise.”

“For me? But I don't even know who to wield one.”

“Worry not, for I will teach you. When the weather breaks.”

“You did this for me? You would do that for me?”

He nodded. “I would do anything for you, you know.” His eyes softened then as he smiled. “I love you.”

This was the last thing you ever expected him to say and you could only stare at him for a long moment, as your stupid brain forgot how to process words. The best you could muster was a whispered, “What?”

“I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, but how could I when I thought you would be embarrassed to be courted by me. So, I relegated myself to knowing we would only ever be friends, but now…”

“Embarrassed to be courted by you? Are you mad, Thorin? Are you absolutely and completely mad? Because you would have to be to think any woman alive would be embarrassed to be courted by you.” You shifted to wind your arms about his neck. “And no one has ever made something for me. At least, not something as beautiful as a sword. So, if I didn't already love you in return, I would have most definitely fallen at this moment.”

He smiled. “So, all this time, it would’ve only taken a sword to win your hand?”

“I’m a very simple woman, Thorin. You should know that by now.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he eased his arms about your waist, pulling you flush against him. He leaned closer, his lips just brushing yours as he murmured, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

You tried to think of something witty to reply with, but then his lips met yours once more and rendered words unnecessary.

***

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[ss-skyearn]

Took Too Much

❝They say your love lasts forever if you see the first snow together.❞

PAIRING : Hwang Hyunjin x female!reader

WORD COUNT : 4.5k.

GENRE : Angst, Smut, Fluff.

WARNINGS/CONTENT : explicit sexual content, substance abuse, longing, mutual pining, vulnerability, they're in love and just want each other, angst with a happy ending.

SMUT WARNINGS : grinding, dry humping, foreplay, petnames, launderie kink, desperation, WORSHIPPING (quite literally), unprotected intercourse (don't try at home).

A/N : This piece is a little heavier than what I usually write but am particularly fond of it; feedback much appreciated. As usual, enjoy, lovelies. ♡

But it's a silhouette you'd recognize anywhere.

Those legs that you were trapped between during stolen moments of vulnerability.

Those large palms that held you down while you shook from the white hot pleasure the same hands brought you.

That soft blonde mop of hair that tickled your inner thighs when the same head was buried in your heat, almost every chilly night like today. And every warm one too.

It's funny.

How a single 'ding' can mean so much, can seize your heart, can threaten to bring out what you have been trying so hard to suppress.

It was a heat of the moment thing, done in good fun.

"It gives me a special privilege," he'd said.

"That makes no sense. You already occupy the largest unit in my heart," you'd breathed against his lips.

Moving back an inch, he'd whined, "It'll let you know it's me and that you have to abandon everything to give me attention. Pretty, please?"

You never could say no to his doe eyes, a fact he exploited on the daily.

So you'd given in, changing the ringtone for his messages and calls to one that is seperate from the rest of your contacts.

So really, it was a spur of the moment decision he'd proposed after having been interrupted mid make out session, him claiming a special place on yet another part of your being.

It's funny, honestly.

How the tone that once was the cause of butterflies going rampant in the pits of your belly, now has reason to cause grief of the same, if not more, measure.

You know who it is before you even chance a glance at your screen, but you look all the same.

Not knowing what you were expecting, the sorrow burning a deeper shade of red is felt and you reckon that it's the price to pay for reaching out to something you know would elicit a reaction such as this.

Hyun<3

You hadn't deleted his contact, the reason you're unsure of to this day. Perhaps a reminder that he did in fact once exist in your life, had a grounding presence, a place reserved all for himself in the mainland of your heart, and not someone entirely dreamt up.

It surely felt like it at times.

The silence from his end hurt you, broke you, shattered you, despite having been at your request. Days seemingly never ending, nights even moreso, your house empty, bed cold. All of it ate away at you a little at a time, leaving behind a silhouette tainted with holes, torn and run down at the edges.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't imagine, didn't long, didn't yearn for this very moment. The moment his side of the silence ceases, the moment he, despite your asks, reaches out.

So why does your heart feel about fit to burst at the seams? Why do you so badly want to run away? Why do you feel the air suddenly burning its way into your lungs?

"Hello?" your voice is but a whisper, foreign to anyone who's known you.

"Baby?"

Eyes closing shut, you let a long drawn sigh escape your nostrils. Being all too consumed in the eagerness of the manifestation of the moment you'd been wanting, you didn't stop to consider what his voice was capable of inflicting, underestimating your own longing for everything that's him.

"Baby, you there?"

"Why are you calling me?"

A rustling sound follows, as he lets out his own well deserved breath of air.

It's a sense of relief, if anything. Knowing that you're not the only one tormented.

A sick, sadistic kind of relief, sure. But relief all the same. Labels stopped meaning much to you a while ago.

"Missed your voice," he mumbles, tone having an unusual tilt to it.

You don't respond. Or rather, you can't. For if you will yourself to speak in this moment, a choked sob is about all that'll make its way out.

"Missed you," the tilt deepens and you catch yourself mere moments before voicing out your concerns. Not having spoken to him since the pair of you parted ways, it's going to take time adjusting to the fact that he's no longer accountable to your questions, your worries. And you're no longer expected to care for him.

You are no longer wanted.

"Why are you calling?" you echo, the fact that your voice is growing quieter by the second not lost on you. If anything, it's the same fact that withholds you from saying more.

"It's the first snow today."

You know what he's thinking. It'd be a lie to say you haven't been thinking the same all day.

You stay quiet, waiting for the blow.

When did you turn into such a masochist? You know the next thing coming out of his mouth is going to tear apart your tattered heart that you've been fixing up the past year since he left you.

"We met on the day of the first snow."

Alas, bandaids don't fix bullet holes.

They're ripped apart, shredded to nothing. Tattered and frayed, used for all their worth. Leaving behind the pieces of your heart, desperately clinging onto each other, trying and failing to stay in league.

"They say your love lasts forever if you see the first snow together."

A dry chuckle follows, filling the air with despair, a feeling contrary to the act in of itself.

"That's all fucking bullshit, isn't it?" the tilt to his voice wavers, a little sniffle enough to withdraw one from you too.

"Look where it got us," the silky voice breaks, the same one you adored.

The voice that once called you 'love', whispered confessions into your hair, your ears, your core. The voice that took on a hoarse tone when you woke up in his arms on late mornings, the one that promised to be with you always.

Empty confessions. Empty promises.

"Why are you calling?" seems like this is the only thing that's making its way out of your throat tonight. The only thing that can make its way out.

He hums, then chuckles again. The same hollow laugh, detached, impassive, phlegmatic.

"You always were stubborn, weren't you?"

"Hyunjin," your voice is stern, indicative of a warning.

But he finds no such emotion behind it.

"Keep going."

"Wh—"

"Keep saying my name. Please."

It's only going to take so much for the choked sob that you've been holding at the back of your throat to be let out. And it's taking every fibre, every alight neuron within you to keep it in.

"Why?" a meek whisper. Your voice wavering.

"Because I love it. Love you," a quiet sob. His tone trembling. "Still," A single word. Sealing in an entire universe worth of meaning.

Eyes falling shut again, you don't stop the trail of heat that burns your cheeks. For the first time in a year, you let yourself go. Let yourself feel.

Even if it's grief. Even if it's sorrow.

Your let yourself feel.

A huff of breath is heard through the receiver, followed by a shudder.

"You were always better than me with cold."

Your eyes snap open, back ramrod straight and despite knowing what you'll find, you hastily draw the curtains aside. And sure enough, the snowfall is steady, windy breeze rustling leaves off their petioles, streets emptier than they should be considering the early hours of night.

And for good reason.

"Hyun, are you out?"

"You still have me all figured out," he lets out, and you can almost see his breath condensing in front of his face, courtesy the coldest day of this year's winter.

"What are you doing out? Get in right now," the assertive tone isn't something you've used in a while. Maybe you just didn't have anyone to use it on anymore.

He chuckles again, seemingly the only reaction he's able to give you, the only reaction that doesn't involve speaking, lest the wobble to his tone give him away.

"Hyun, seriously. Get the fuck in."

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Don't know where I am," the sigh that follows lets you know that he just closed his eyes. It's the one he let out every night when he laid behind you, his chest to your back, him buried deep in you. It's when he felt the most at peace, he used to say. Coming home and being with you, feeling you, inside out. Quite literally.

Though what he's finding peaceful about the biting cold is beyond you.

"What do you mean you don't know? Hyun, don't fuck with me right now."

The next chortle is almost a laugh, the irony of your statement not lost on you. You think you hear something eerily similar to "how I wish" through the microphone, but you choose to ignore it.

"Hyunjin. For the last time, where are you?" even as your tone indicates your growing impatience, your body works on autopilot. Before you know it, you're getting up and reaching for your car keys, all while throwing a fleece jacket over your shoulder.

"Is getting you mad the only way to make you say my name?"

He's not listening. Something you're not used to. Sure, not listening and communicating is what got you both where you are today, but it's something you've never been at the receiving end of. It's the complaint he always had. And the complaint you always brushed off.

You suddenly remember another spur of the moment thing you did back in the day.

You pull out the app where you had your locations visible to each other, knowing of the other's whereabouts at all times. Your friends had called it a red flag, that he was possessive, obsessive even, to suggest something of this sort.

Little did they know it was your idea.

You see him, his little bitmoji some ten kilometres away from your current location.

Even as you're making your way to the car, shoving the steady falling snow out of the way, you make a show of protesting, "Use goggle maps and drive home."

"Can't drive either."

"Why?"

Silence.

And it gives you reason to fret. Despite the unnerving tilt, he's been responsive and dare you say vulnerable all throughout, the shake to his voice not holding him back from letting his feelings known.

So the first time he's silent is enough to make you break into a cold sweat.

"Hyun, why can't you drive?"

You hear him drag a hand down his face, some rustling of clothes following shortly after.

Another deep exhale, another beat of silence.

"Hyunjin," you settle on it as the last measure, knowing it's the only way he'll answer, the weakness he has for you saying his name made plenty clear today.

"I'm sorry," the whisper is barely there, almost lost in the sounds of your engine revving.

But he's the only one you've ever had ears for.

So you hear him. You hear him loud and clear.

"Why?" while he may not be egoistic, apologising isn't something either of you are good at. It's always been that way. A constant push and pull, a tug of war, a battle of wills, seeing you caves in first, who loses first. Hardly a healthy partnership, but what you had with him made it all worth it. More than worth it. He's the closest thing to a soulmate you'll ever have. If they do in fact exist, he's your other half.

He once was. He always will be.

"I- I just.. I'm sorry, baby."

Ice cold panic grips your heart, the external cold fading by comparison. He's apologized twice in a row now, and while your past self would call it improvement, in this moment, dread is the only sentiment you feel.

You stay silent, stepping on the race, praying he doesn't pick up on the sound of your engine accelerating.

A long moment of daunting silence later, he says something you don't understand, or rather refuse to understand.

"I took too much."

Its beyond refusal, a feeling akin to denial.

You deny to process what he just said, what he just implied, what he just meant.

"Stay right where you are," so, much like everything else, you choose to ignore it.

He seems taken aback for all of three seconds before his tone softens, "You coming to get me?"

You choose to ignore this too, convincing yourself that this is just mindless rambling to him.

His words suddenly hold no weight, his confessions empty.

Like always.

You glance at the GPS mounted to the dash.

One kilometre away.

"Do you remember when I kissed you?"

"You've kissed me more times than I can count."

Even as your heart is splitting in two, even after the recent realisation, you somehow find yourself reponding.

It's honestly all you've been wanting since he walked out of the bedroom, out of the apartment, out of your life that late September night.

"That day. The day of the first snow. The day we met."

You don't respond.

He takes it as a sign to continue.

"I knew it then. I know you knew it too."

Eight hundred metres.

"That you were for me. And I you."

Silence from your end again.

"How did we end up here?"

You know how. He knows how.

Five hundred metres.

Suddenly, a loud beep resounds, the call abruptly ending. That sends you into a chill panic, grip on the gear tightening. You pull over, and try tracing his location again. To no avail.

The location is gone. The ringtone goes straight to voicemail. Messages not delivering.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to remind yourself between deep breaths that he's capable of taking care of himself.

But then comes a gush of memories. Of a time when he walked straight into a pole while facetiming you once. You'd laughed then and called him a manchild.

The memory, albeit fond, doesn't help ease your worries, only aggravating the uneasy churn of your stomach.

Exhaling loudly, you talk yourself down your own anxiety first, realising that this is the first step if you want to have any chance at getting to him.

This is the general location, you remember. Once again, you kick start your car, the frantic rumble of the engine echoing down the empty roads, signifying the urgency of the affair.

It takes another twenty minutes and a slow drive down the snowy streets for you to spot a silhouette in the distance.

The person is slumped down against a rusty pole, back pressed to it, long legs propped up with feet flat on the snow covered pavement, head resting on the bend of their elbow thrown over upward knees. With their head buried in the crook of their arm, their face isn't visible, the thick smog hovering around them adding to the haze.

But it's a silhouette you'd recognize anywhere.

Those legs that you were trapped between during stolen moments of vulnerability.

Those large palms that held you down while you shook from the white hot pleasure the same hands brought you.

That soft blonde mop of hair that tickled your inner thighs when the same head was buried in your heat, almost every chilly night like today. And every warm one too.

You don't know when you got off your car, for now you find yourself looking down at the same silky golden locks.

Your boots sink into the snow, the ice underneath them melting.

He gives no indication of knowing of your arrival, and you wonder if he's managed to somehow fall asleep here.

Tiny snowflakes having made themselves home on his hair, almost forming a halo, he looks angelic. You reach out, wanting to dust them off his head before your stop, hand hovering.

You're suddenly tentative, when you didn't hesitate to tug on these very locks whenever he was in you.

That simple knowledge brings forth the harsh reality.

He's here. Right in front of you. Yet so far away.

Hand still in air, you're entirely unprepared when his head suddenly shoots up, palm grabbing your wrist.

"Baby?" his voice is gravelly, eyes bleary.

Yet he's the most perfect piece of art you ever did see.

He's gorgeous, your mind says to you— as if the fact could've ever been hidden, been denied even in incoherence.

But it's when you look closely that it comes crashing down. The realisation.

His slim face is gaunt now, eyes red and hazy, bags prominent. He's gorgeous, sure, but not as stunning as he once was.

You're suddenly knocked off balance, back pressing into the pole he was just resting on, the surface hot from his warmth.

It takes far too long for you to perceive what it is that's actually happening. His fingers dig into your hips, large palms splayed over your back, winding to the front, thumbs meeting. Warm breath tickles your neck, forcing out a gasp of your own.

"You're here," his voice is hushed, reverent even, afraid that the illusion of you would disappear any moment.

You nudge his shoulder, trying to shake him off, albeit unwillingly.

He removes himself from where he's nestled, looks you in the eye before closing them, forehead resting against yours.

From what you were able to make from that brief glimpse into his orbs, they're bloodshot, not the kind that result from lack of sleep nor the ones that speak of tiredness.

No, they are indicative of him being far away from the realm of normal thinking. It's the excuse you allow yourself to live, the reason you don't push him off you.

He's not thinking.

His tongue darts out, gliding over the plump of his lower lip, the texture of which you know by heart. Parting open, quick breaths leave him, and the proximity is to blame for the fact that it goes right into your mouth.

He puffs rapidly as if suddenly breathless, lips quivering, seemingly trying to find something to say, or perhaps trying to not say what his heart wants to.

"Tell me you're real this time."

This time?

"Hyun—"

"Just- just tell me you're really here," his eyes open slowly, drowsily, forehead still pressed into yours, hands sliding from your hip up your sides, caressing, feeling, landing on your nape.

Once again they circle you, this time overlapping over the back of your neck as he pulls you closer still, "That I'm not making you up again."

"What happened to you?" looking into his eyes again, you know it's not him. He's gone. For now.

So it's more of a question to yourself than to him.

What happened to him? What happened to your artist, your lover, your Hyunjin?

And just as you surmised, your question fell on deaf ears for he is a man on a mission.

"Baby, you're here right? With me? You came to me?"

Moving to close your nimble hands over his big ones, you relish in their warmth for a moment, the reason of said unnatural heat another thing you choose to ignore for now.

You can wallow in guilt by yourself later. All you want.

But now that you've allowed yourself this moment of weakness with him, you plan to bank on it.

"Yes, Hyun, it's me. I'm here."

Encircling your arms around broad shoulders, you pull him to you, into you. His own hands slip to your hips, squeezing you right back.

"I keep seeing you everywhere, everyday. Wherever I am. Whenever I'm awake."

You think you hear a sob, but don't let it show, for you're not immune to the sorrow either.

Maybe the apathetic front was just that, after all. A front. One you had to put up, one you had to believe in— fool yourself into believing in, if only for self preservation.

"You're not making me up this time."

He doesn't reply with words, doesn't need to. The way his hold on you tightens, lips brushing the side of your neck speaks volumes.

Hot, wet kissed trail up the column of your throat, their heat melting off any snow falling on you. Surroundings be damned, you throw your head back, giving him the silent consent.

That seems to be invitation enough for him, as his kisses turn to sucking, sucking turns to biting. He's marking you, something he enjoyed partaking in quite a lot back in the day, and you already know the colour of each of the marks that he's leaving, only through the pressure and the ratio of tongue-teeth action he spares your skin.

You permit it, indulging him, indulging yourself.

But it's when he noses his way to your jaw and finally lifts up to look into your eyes that you're reminded of reality, of his incapacitated state.

You jolt back, practically shoving him off.

He's understandably puzzled, brows creasing, panting.

"Wh— did I do something wrong? I remember you liked when I did this? You don't anymore?"

"No. It's not that. I do like it. Maybe even more than before."

The crease to his forehead eases out as he takes a single step forward, to which you take one of your own. In the opposite direction.

He stops dead in his tracks, the bend to his brows deeper than before.

"Baby, why are you going away from me?"

You try not to look into his eyes, the branching redness visibly growing new stems by the second.

"Don't go away from me."

Unlike what some might assume, you're not put off, not repulsed by gleam to his eyes, nor by their sanguinence. In not too proud of a moment, you'd say you're even used to it.

It's what you see every time you look into the mirror. What you hate, what you need.

A vicious cycle. A cursed affair.

The glint in your eye reflects his, ignites his, the two light beams meeting to string together.

The profane symphony. The impious consonance.

You did try. Tried not to let it take over you, it's been more than half a day since you last indulged in a sniff, after all. But Hyunjin is nothing if not a vice to your repressive instincts.

Your kryptonite. Your aphrodisiac.

One look at his bloodhsot eyes and you know this is it. He is the one. Who else could be the other half to your broken, tattered soul? Who else could be the mirror image of your own intoxicated orbs? Who else could slot into your cracks?

He steps forward, and this time you don't have it in you to recoil. Closing your lids, you let him snake his arms around your waist, pull you impossibly close. His face finds the comfort of your neck again, hot breathe laced with desperation marking the seeping away of the last of your restraint, taking with it any hope you had to do this right. For once.

"Don't go."

You've known him long enough to realise he's pulling apart your guard, piece by excruciating piece. You've known yourself long enough to realise you're caving, embracing the pain that is him.

"Let's get you home."

You don't see anything, too consumed in the fire that is him, his touch.

You're kissing him like you need him to breath. He's kissing you like he needs you to survive.

His hands pull down the zipper to your shirt, legs guiding you back onto the bed proper, step by step.

You land on your back with a soft thud, shirt thrown off somewhere. His own following suit soon after.

His eyes land onto the black lace adorning your chest, shining and all too inviting. The same lace he got you for your two year anniversary, the same lace he had you in that day, the same lace he had you in on countless days after that.

He places one knee between your legs, the duvet dipping, and nuzzles his face in your cleavage, taking in a long inhale.

Nosing about, he whispers, "Are you doing this on purpose?"

You know what he means. He never failed to mention what this set did to him, to his brain, his length. And you'd made it a point to use it against him every chance you got.

Today however, was not that chance, but you're grateful for the fateful coincidence.

He gets up only to slowly peel off your leggings and partially hovers over you, knee between your legs again, this time much closer to the warmth of your core.

His eyes trail down your figure, taking in all the curves, the crevices. Remembering all that once was his, learning all that he wasn't there to witness during your time apart.

His hands gently move up and down your sides, caressing and massaging, eyes going back and forth between the two lace pieces.

They're the same pair, but your body has changed quite a bit since he last had you in it.

You've somehow managed to surpass your own beauty and it's nothing if not a detriment to his sanity.

And his stamina. He's suddenly not too proud of it, if the exponential build up of his arousal is any indication.

The heavy caresses have now pushed you down the bed, your heat coming in contact with the rough patch of denim on his knee. You gasp at the contact, your core tender from how drenched you are from all his staring and fondling.

He picks up on it and uses his hold on your hips to begin grinding you on his knee. You groan, your thin silky lace and his thick rough denim adding to your arousal. Never would you have imagined that simple gliding, over the confines of clothes no less, could feel this good.

This is what being with Hyunjin is always like. Trying, experimenting, tapping into uncharted territory, with the knowledge of safely, of assurance, of security.

Sleeping with him, you got to know of your own body, what made it tick, your likes, your turn ons.

Being with him, you got to know of yourself, what made you you, your talents, your strengths.

Existing with him, simply made you whole.

So if this is all you get, you'd be content.

Moans and whimpers echo in the room that's now empty without his studio table nestled in the corner, without his clothes piled up in random heaps, without music equipment thrown astrew on the wooden floor.

Empty. Empty. Empty. Without him.

"Goddess."

A loud moan rips from your throat, the sound unholy. Your eyes snap open, in shock of your own reaction.

"You like that?"

Staring up at him with wide eyes, you're not sure what to say. It's yet another uncharted territory, yet another epiphany. And you're grateful it's with him.

Leaning forward he captures your lips between his soft ones, tongued clashing, spit mixing, swaying his head side to side, smearing your collective essence all over your cheeks and jaws.

"Like it, my goddess?"

Another equally loud moan echoes, even as his grinding has ceased. Your response is unprompted, no physical stimulation in sight.

While it might have been embarrassing, you're anything but.

Simply because it's him.

And you're not yourself. And he's not himself.

But you're together. All else rendered trivial.

Feedback and reblogs are very highly appreciated. They're what keep the community alive and help content creators stay motivated.

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© ss-skyearn 2023. All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting and translating any of my works is not allowed.

#hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin fanfic #kpop smut #stray kids smut #kpop imagines #skz smut #stray kids imagines #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #x reader #hwang hyunjin #writeblr

[siren-serenity]

off to the grand line we go

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐖 tell me, what is your dream? to become stronger? to roam the seas in sight for freedom? whatever you want, the sea is willing to offer

-all written by 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍-

note: the ones with (nsfw) are not suitable for minors! minors dni. however, those without any other labelling are safe for everyone :)

𝐋𝐄𝐓'𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐄'𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 note: i've only watched a couple of one piece episodes so i'm not that sure of what arcs or whatever is happening. please be patient with me!! i will not write nsfw for non-humanoid characters ex. chopper honorary tag for sfw works, sanji + ace -> @officialdaydreamer00

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖 𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 ↳˳;; ❝ who is luffy to you?ᵕ̈೫˚∗

you would forever immortalize that day. the fated day in which you met the mugiwaras, or the straw hat pirates. luffy, thrusting his hand into your field of vision, mouth grinning and an odd laughter bursting from him. then, in the corner of your eye, you saw everyone else with an earnest look in their eyes. "join my crew!" luffy beamed, like sunshine, like the sun itself. your soul ignited. your heart resonating, beating like drums in your chest. "aye," you grinned, clapping your hand into his. "i pledge to make you king of the pirates!"

𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈 ↳˳;; ❝ pillow prince (nsfw)ᵕ̈೫˚∗

sanji's hands are shaking as he holds yours, cradling them as if they were the finest piece of treasure in all the seas. his eyes are earnest, glimmering as always whenever he looks at something he loves, but they're more sincere than ever. "my dream is not just the all blue anymore. it's you and it's always been you."

𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐆𝐀𝐒 𝐃. 𝐀𝐂𝐄 ↳˳;; ❝ lucky to have youᵕ̈೫˚∗ ↳˳;; ❝ who is luffy to you?ᵕ̈೫˚∗ ↳˳;; ❝ when he loves you (ace ver. part two)ᵕ̈೫˚∗ ↳˳;; ❝ you're so in loveᵕ̈೫˚∗

"i never thought there was someone out there who could love me," ace blows out a wisp of smoke from his mouth, looking outwards from where he leaned on the railing of whitebeard's ship. the sunset highlighted his rugged looks that always made your heart stutter. his next words are quiet, murmured like a sacred whisper. "but then you proved me wrong."

𝐑𝐄𝐃-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒 ↳˳;; ❝ when he loves you (shanks ver. part one)ᵕ̈೫˚∗ ↳˳;; ❝ who is luffy to you?ᵕ̈೫˚∗

"let's just drink our sorrows away," shanks lifted up a heavy bottle of rum before giving you a light-hearted grin. the sun rising behind him lit up his ruby hair and he seemed to glow otherworldly. "or shall we just drink merrily until we're black-out drunk?"

𝐁𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐍 ↳˳;; ❝ my favorite shade of blueᵕ̈೫˚∗ ↳˳;; ❝ when he loves you (buggy ver. part three)ᵕ̈೫˚∗

"you," buggy grabbed your chin, tugging you closer to him. his lips curved upwards into a scarlet-smeared grin. blue eyes glimmered and shimmered with a hint of insanity yet there was something about the look in his eyes that made you drawn into the craziness of him. "you will be the greatest act of all."

𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐓𝐄 '𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐎𝐍' 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄 ↳˳;; ❝ morning routinesᵕ̈೫˚∗

you let an exasperated, yet concern-filled sigh escape your lips, hands bandaging his injured shoulder with ease. rosinante watches you with the slightest hint of guilt brimming in his eyes and you immediately felt soft again- no! he set himself on fire again! you must stay strict and- "thank you," rosinante grinned at you, charming in his own unique way, and you felt your heart flutter. "i love you."

𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐀 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 ↳˳;; ❝ i just wanna kiss youᵕ̈೫˚∗

"i swear, on my blade, that i will always protect you," zoro pledged and he seemed so serious that you didn't retort as you usually did. he sheathed wado ichimonji and then held your hands in his own calloused ones. the sun had set behind him and outlined his well-built body against the brilliant blue sky. "i swear it, because i will always prioritize you first and foremost." he took your breath away. he always had and always will.

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃. 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐖 ↳˳;; ❝ early dawnsᵕ̈೫˚∗

"thank you," law whispers. he holds you tight to his chest, inhaling your sweet, unique aroma paired with the metallic, sharp scent of blood. thankfully, the majority of it wasn't yours and you were alive, in his arms. "never do that again. please." law is begging, perhaps for the first time in a long time. but he will get down on his knees and do every humiliating action if you could remain safe forever.

𝐁𝐎𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊 ↳˳;; ❝ eyes and smiles (my heart beats louder)ᵕ̈೫˚∗

"in this vast sea," hancock murmurs, having a lost look in her eyes. you step closer, embracing her gently with a hand cradling her head to you. "my love for you transcends everything." she leans back to look you in the eye and to your surprise, they had small shimmers of tears in the corners. she smiled and it was like the sun had blessed you with warmth. "perhaps our love is the most beautiful of them all."

#one piece #one piece x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #sanji #portgas d ace #ace #portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader #one piece live action #opla #donquixote corazon #donquixote rosinante #donquixote rocinante #one piece rosinante #rosinante x reader #op rosinante #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #boa hancock #boa hancock x reader #x reader

[alessiathepirate]

Fast X

LAVENDER NAIL POLISH: Dante Reyes x fem!reader

Summary: Sitting at the table with Dante as he paints her nails, makes her wonder why he's doing that in the first place.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

For my friend who watched these movies with me during a movie night - I love you girl <3

Warnings: none

•••

She knew for a fact that there were many things in this world she should've considered as unnerving - like racing itself with all the possible consequences. Yet the scariest thing on Earth for her in that very moment was one of the most common things possible: nail polish.

She pulled off many dangerous stunts, she almost got caught by the police more times than she could count; yet that little tube full of colorful liquid was far more frightening than that.

She didn't choose the color, he did. He was the one holding her hand in place as he painted her nails to a light shade of purple too. Perhaps in another situation she would've found it a nice color and a nice gesture - but she found it scary instead.

He never touched her or made her do stuff before. She was never even tied up or anything. It was new - completely new and that's why it scared her so much.

"Am I going somewhere?" she asked as she watched him work on her nails - she was quite jealous when she noticed that he did a better job than she usually did.

The question was meant as 'Am I going somewhere with you?'. She never saw where he went, she only stayed at the hotel rooms he rented for the occasion. But he talked about it - he liked to talk a lot. It was more like ranting - Dom Toretto this, Dom Toretto that, he did this so I did that. That's why she ended up with him in the first place, because Dom Toretto did that.

The first day she had to spend with Dante Reyes was the first day she realized that being a part of Dom's family isn't that much fun all the time.

"We are going to a race, darling." he let go of her hand with a girly movement after he blew on her freshly painted fingernails, and for a second she thought that he's mocking her. "Now give me your other hand."

She did as her eyes lit up at the word - race. She hadn't had the change to take part in one since forever - or watch one at the very least. A race, she'll finally go to a race.

"Where?" Dante actually chuckled at the excitement in her voice - and she never thought he could chuckle without being psychotic or sarcastic.

"We're going straight to Rio de Janeiro." he took a hold of her other hand as he answered and soon her nail on her pinky finger was purple as well. "After your nails are done."

Her excitement stopped for a moment - Rio de Janeiro. Her, Dante and Rio de Janeiro. That sounded like a not so good idea, especially because she had a feeling that Dom will be there too. That's why she'll be there. So Dante can show her off - so he can show that he has her, a part of Dom's family.

She tried to ignore that thought, she should talk about something else.

"Why purple?"

"Lavender." he corrected her with an 'are you this dumb' look on his face.

"So why lavender?" she asked as she purposefully changed her tone on the word lavender.

"Because I have to match my car..." he explained. "And you have to match me."

She tilted her head a bit - trying to hide the sudden pain in her heart at what she just heard. Only then did she notice that his nails were the same color as hers.

"Must be a nice car." she said instead of questioning it any further. "And a nice choice in color. It's pretty."

"Yes, that's what I'm talking about!" Dante spoke up with a shout as if she'd be the first one to think so. "You see, sometimes we have to let go of all that masculinity. And on the other hand, it'll look good on you too."

She didn't know if she should be flattered or not.

"You know." she began saying as Dante finished with the nail polish and let go of her hand completely. "In a different world we'd actually be pretty good friends."

"We'll be in this one too. Eventually." he put the nail polish aside and crossed his legs as they sat at the table together, looking at the other without saying a word.

Is he mocking her, she had to ask herself again.

If she didn't know about his vendetta against Dom, she'd maybe consider him less psychotic, but still kind of crazy. Maybe then he'd be more funny too. Dante sitting there with a bathrobe on, with his hair up in two small buns was actually funny and oddly enough, friendly. He still seemed strange, but he seemed less like a guy who murders people for fun.

"Continue on with the princess treatment and we might be." she joked. "Will we wear matching clothes too?"

"Of course we will!"

"Of course we will." she repeated. "Because you're a show off."

"I never said I wasn't."

"Dom will be there, won't he?" she asked with a slight head tilt. "That's why I'm going with you. So you can show me off."

"Clever girl..." Dante praised as he patted the top of her hand with his. "But you should go get ready, because this will be a race you won't want to miss." he then stood up and left her alone in the kitchen - but later on he shouted: "I'll go wash my hair until you get ready!"

And she laughed. Not chuckled quietly like she used to - but laughed.

Perhaps if Dante would be a bit less psychotic, she could let herself like him a lot more. Perheps she'd actually like him.

Then, perhaps, she'd actually have the bravery to admit to herself that she already does.

#fast x #fast and furious 10 #fast and furious x reader #dante reyes #dante reyes x reader #dante reyes x fem!reader

[prythianpages]

ACOSM | The Night they went to Rita's

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: alcohol/drinking, this was meant to be just fluff and a drunk Az but smut somehow made its way in so did both possessive and pouty Az

summary: Mor shares bad news with Valeria and the two decide they are in need of a fun night out. Rhysand invites himself and brings Az and Cas along. The finally go to Rita's and they all get a little carried away with shots.

A/N: this is an imagine among my collection that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here. this turned out to be waaay longer than I originally planned and I also wasn't happy with some scenes so I rewrote them a lot, which is why it took forever to update.

**

As the sun dipped, painting the sky with shades of pink and orange, Valeria found herself seated before her piano in her room. The open balcony doors welcomed in the cool, refreshing breeze. A week had passed since her haunting violin performance, the memory of its disappointing outcome lingered. She hadn’t seen her father since that night, avoiding him like a plague.

But this moment was different. She wasn’t performing for her father. Instead, she played solely for the love of the instrument she cherished the most–the piano.

Noctis, her devoted bird, perched on the music stand let out a chirp and stretched out his wings in encouragement. She took a deep breath, her fingers hesitating over the keys before they found their place. They tentatively pressed against the piano’s keys until a slow melody emerged from her fingertips, guiding her in a graceful dance across the keys. The song was delicate, its cascading notes forming a shimmering, dreamlike tune.

As the last note dissolved into the air, she felt a cool caress dash across her cheeks and swept her hair aside, curling against her ear to whisper to her. Beautiful. She turned in time to see Azriel sit beside her, his wing extending and curling around her to accommodate the both of them on the piano bench. Her wings were glamored–something Azriel noticed she did more of since Mallory’s death.

His hazel glimmered with admiration as he looked down at her. She returned his gaze with a warm smile. “Would you like to play?”

“I’d rather listen to you.” He replied smoothly.

She spared a glance to Noctis who observed the Shadowsinger curiously. “I think Noctis wants to hear you play,” she teased and Noctis chirped in agreement.

Azriel rolled his eyes in mock frustration. It seemed Noctis was always on her side. He knew he was not going to win this one so he bowed his head at her, silently conceding her request. Velaria beamed, resuming the delicate melody she had been playing moments ago. Azriel’s own fingers glided effortlessly across the keys, his own crafted melody harmonizing seamlessly with hers.

He knew how to play the piano thanks to her. After learning that Shadowsingers do not sing, despite their name, she had offered to teach him, insisting that if he wouldn’t sing aloud, he would have to sing with his heart. Their lessons began shortly after he moved in with her family. Cassian and Rhysand weren’t as welcoming of him initially so he was grateful for her. They spent their evenings after dinner practicing and despite their youth, she was always patient with him. Their sessions gradually tapered off as Rhysand and Cassian grew warmer towards him. He only played the piano occasionally, usually at Valeria’s request.

Azriel never forgot the night he met Valeria, the memory forever engraved into his mind. She had met his shadows, looked into their darkness and smiled. She embraced the very thing many feared. He watched as his shadows whirled around them as they played the piano, warmth pooling into his heart as she welcomed their cool touch, a fond smile gracing her lips. 

“Perhaps you’ll sing for me next?” Valeria mused as their song came to a delicate end.

His shadows twirled in excitement, almost eager at the thought of hearing their master sing. He couldn’t help but let out an amused huff. Even his shadows were in her favor today. 

Valeria’s laughter filled the air and his heart fluttered at the delightful sound. He loved seeing her happy and cherished every moment that made her smile. It had taken all his willpower to contain his rage toward the High Lord the night he broke Valeria’s heart. He hated the way she’d pale at the sight of her father after and he hated having to show loyalty to the cruel man as his spymaster. It was unfortunately the only way he could remain close to her.

“What?”

Azriel blinked. He hadn’t realized he had been staring at her in a daze, his thoughts lost in the moment. “Nothing,” he mumbled, trying to sound casual, though a gentle flush warmed his cheeks.

“You’re adorable.” Valeria said softly, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his cheek. An affectionate gesture that brought a rush of warmth to his heart. 

“Adorable?” His response carried a hint of surprise. He had never been described that way. His fingers reached out to her face, coaxing her to meet his gaze that had darkened slightly. “I don’t aim to be ‘adorable’.”

“Tell me, then. What do you aim for?”

Your heart, he wanted to answer. Although, he could not bring himself to say those words aloud. A part of him feared that she did not want him the way he did. That perhaps she only desired him physically but he could not go back to how things were before. Not when he already had a taste of her perfect lips. Her soft skin and breasts. Her pretty cunt as she came on his tongue. 

If all she wanted was his body, he would gladly keep giving it to her. He would rather have her the way he did now than not at all. He leaned in further, his breath fanning her face and lips ghosting over hers. 

“Your pleasure.”

He was then claiming her lips, his grip still firm on her chin, as his words ignited a heated desire in her stomach. He kissed her softly and slowly, taking delight in the way she melted into him, wanting to press against him. Gods, he would never have his fill of her. He craved her. Desperately. And all the time. The inexplicable pull toward her had not dwindled one bit since he first felt it and a part of him wondered if she could feel it too.

He released his hold on her chin and placed his hands at her hips instead, shifting her onto his lap. His lips parted from hers as he pulled her back flush against his chest, one arm wrapping itself around her waist. The movement caused his wings to brush against the piano, making it sing clumsily and scaring Noctis at the abrupt sound. The bird flew away, accompanied by some of Azriel’s shadows, toward the open balcony.

Azriel brushed her long hair to the side, deciding to claim another of his favorite spots–her neck—his cock straining against his pants. He was sure she could feel it pressing into her back. She tipped her head towards his shoulder to allow him easier access as he kissed her neck, easing his way down. He already knew the spot she was most sensitive to. His teeth grazed her soft skin before sucking, smirking against the curve of her neck when he heard her let out a quiet moan. The sound had his cock throbbing and aching. He was filled with the urge to elicit more moans from her, louder ones.

His mouth did not leave her neck nor his arm from her waist as he used his knee to spread her legs further apart. His free hand lightly traced his way up her leg, then her thigh, his shadows bringing the skirts of her dress up with him. He could smell the sweet scent of her arousal, already feeling how wet she was for him as his fingers ghosted over her core.

“Do you still find me adorable now?” He whispered against her skin.

“Yes.” Her reply was quick and breathless and his shadows reported that she was smiling.

“Wrong answer.” He told her, his fingers leaving the spot she needed him most and resting at her thigh instead.

She whimpered at the loss and grinded against his thigh, coating his pants with her arousal. He responded by tightening his hold on her waist, large hands splaying across her abdomen to keep her from moving. “Azriel.” Her voice was begging this time, a desperate prayer of his name.

“Yes?” He grazed his nose against the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent. He took delight in the power he held over her in the moment. The way she begged for him, the way she was so willing to submit herself to him.

“I don’t just find you adorable. I find you enchanting. Beautiful” –Valeria grasped the arm wrapped around her and he reluctantly let her pull it away, keeping his other at her thigh. She wrapped both of her hands around his larger one, tracing the calluses. She pressed tender kisses along the back of his hand, drawing stars along his scars with her lips–”Every part of you is beautiful.”

Azriel was glad she could not see him as her words had brought a deep blush to his face. His hands had always been a haunting insecurity of his. Yet, she loved them, reminding him every chance she could. His wings fluttered softly around her.

He decides her words were good enough, fearing that if he let her continue he’d melt into her completely. The fingers that rested at her thigh continued their trail to her dripping core and her breath hitched as he rubbed against her sensitive clit. He teased her entrance before eagerly sliding two fingers in.

“Do you know how pretty you are?” He praised her as he thrusted his fingers into her, his thumb grazing against her clit. “Spread for me and dripping for me like this.”

“Not as pretty as you.” She gasped as he abruptly slid another finger in.

“Fuck,” he breathed into her neck, curling his fingers and eliciting a cry from her. “I need to be buried inside you. You think you can take me now?”

“Please.”

Azriel was then carrying her to her bed. He hovered over her, wanting to be able to see her beautiful face as he buried himself into her. His shadows brought her skirts up again, pooling the thin fabric at her waist. He wasted no time in ripping her underwear off of her in one smooth motion before pulling his aching and throbbing cock free. Its tip was angry and seeping with precum as he fisted his generous length.

“Are you sure, princess?”

“Yes, I’m ready. I can take it.”

Valeria licked her bottom lip, remembering the first time she had taken him into her mouth and the delicious sounds she had drawn out from him as he came down her throat. That mouth of hers would be his downfall, Azriel thought with a curse as he recognized the look on her face. He spread her legs wider, pressing his tip in slowly and torturously until he was filling her up completely. They both let out a moan as her walls fluttered around him. 

“That’s it, my pretty girl.” Azriel leaned down, tugging the top of her dress down to expose her breasts. He took one into his mouth, kneading the other with his hand as he began to move with slow and hard strokes.

His wings unfurled behind him, casting shadows across her body as they fluttered in pleasure, his thrusts picking up in pace. She was already a mess for him, her soft moans and the sinful sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Her final breaking point was when his thumb reached down to rub against her clit again. He pulled away from her breasts to watch her. Her beautiful face was contorted in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as he made her see stars.

Azriel’s breaths started to grow heavy, sweat glistening on his forehead as he felt his release surface. He let out a deep guttural sound as he spilled into her, his abdomen clenching and hips stuttering.

Valeria’s eyes opened at the beautiful dark sound that escaped from him to find him gazing down at her. The way he was looking down at her had her coming undone again, her walls pulsing around him and eliciting more whimpers from him as she milked his cock for every drop. 

Her teary eyes, wide and wild, locked with his, her breath hitching as pure shock flashed across her features briefly. In that moment, it was just the two of them, filled with unyielding desire for one another. That intangible silver and gold thread radiated from the very depths of their intertwined hearts. 

“Valeria,” Azriel couldn’t hold himself back any longer, three simple but powerful words hovering over the edge of his lips. “I—fuck.”

“Az?” She called out softly, watching as a shadow curled against his ear. 

He kissed her lips softly, an apologetic look on his face when he met her gaze again. He pulled out of her, nearly groaning at the sight of their cum seeping out of her. The desire to lap it up with his tongue, to have her coming undone for him for the third time was strong. But his shadows notified him that there were footsteps approaching. 

“I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked, his eyes swirling with an emotion Valeria couldn’t quite place.

“It’s okay.” Valeria was reassuring and full of understanding. 

Yet she couldn’t help the ache in her heart as he disappeared into his shadows.

With a slight wince, she hastily got up and ran to her restroom to clean herself up. She adjusted her dress to cover herself back up again, discarding her torn underwear. She placed a glamor–a skill she had perfected– over herself to cover the scent of night-chilled air and sex. She barely had enough time to compose herself before she heard the doors to her room burst open without a knock in warning.

She slapped her warm cheeks and took a deep breath, feigning nonchalance as she walked out of her restroom. But there was an inner turmoil within, her heart still heavy with the words Azriel had wanted to say.

“Oh Val! I’m so sorry for missing your performance! My father locked me away for a week!” Mor exclaimed, rushing toward her cousin and dramatically throwing her arms around her. She then pulled away, choosing to sit on Valeria’s bed with guilt in her deep brown eyes.

“It’s alright.” Valeria brushed off, her heart still racing from Azriel.

Mor frowned. It was evident by the look in Mor’s eyes that she knew all that transpired last week and she wasn’t surprised, considering Keir had been present when she confronted her father. 

Valeria shifted uncomfortably, not wanting the memories of that night to resurface. Her eyebrow furrowed as she pushed thoughts of Azriel away and processed Mor’s initial words. “You said your father locked you away?”

It was now Mor who shifted uncomfortably. Her gaze fell, landing on all the jewelry that adorned her hand. She absentmindedly twisted one of the rings on her finger—a simple gold band with a small engravement of illyrian wings. Valeria recognized it as Mallory’s. 

“He punished me for talking back to him.”

Valeria walked toward Mor, cursing the world for bestowing cold fathers upon them. She could sense there was more to it. While she would not be surprised that Keir would punish her for merely breathing, Mor’s eyes were telling that there was more to the story.

When Mor finally looked up, there were tears brimming her eyes. “I’m engaged, Val.”

Valeria’s eyebrows rose in concern. “What? To who?”

“Beron’s prick of a son. Eris.”

Valeria’s eyes widened. The heir to the Autumn Court had found his bride after all, and an immediate rush of anger coursed through her. She knew Mor had no desire to be married, dreading the day her father would force an engagement upon her. It was a day Valeria dreaded for herself too. Being a female in Prythian unfortunately meant being sidelined, deigned to breeding and parties and child-bearing. 

 “Engagements can be broken off as quickly as they are made,” Valeria told her, gently brushing a loose blonde curl behind her hair in a comforting motion. “We’ll find a way to get you out of this.”

“Thank you.” Mor’s eyes met Valeria’s warm violet ones. She knew she could count on her cousin for anything, whether it was something as fun as learning how to pierce each other’s ears, having a shoulder to lean on when needed, or sharing their deepest secrets–secrets that not even Rhysand knew. Valeria would gladly be her partner in crime whenever, wherever.

 Mor’s gaze then fell upon Valeria’s neck and let out a gasp. “Val…what is that?”

Valeria’s hand shot up to cover her neck, the exact spot Azriel had been fixated on earlier. The marks Azriel would leave on her body were usually covered by her clothes. This was the first time he had marked her neck and in her haste to cover the evidence of her scent, she had forgotten all about it. She felt the heat rise to her neck before she could control it, mentally cursing herself. 

Still, she desperately attempted to feign nonchalance.

 “Nothing.”

“That is not nothing!” Mor insisted with a teasing smile. It was as if a flip switched inside her, her earlier sadness and grief replaced by curiosity and amusement. “That’s a hickey, isn’t it?”

Sensing the lie about to unfold on her tongue, Mor gave her a look.

“Why ask if you know the truth anyway?”

Mor squealed in excitement, urging Valeria to join her on the bed. She hadn’t heard any good gossip in weeks and she wanted to know more. “Who?”

“I can’t say.”

Mor’s jaw dropped and she let out another gasp as realization dawned on her. Valeria hated how intuitive her cousin could be, how quickly she could read her. She was glad Rhysand was not the same when it came to things like this, despite his daemati abilities. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

Valeria’s silence was enough of an answer and Mor, with an amused laugh, dramatically threw herself onto the bed. “Val, you naughty girl!”

When Mor turned to look at Valeria, she found her cousin with her hands clasped over her face in sheer embarrassment, attempting to conceal the blush that colored her cheeks. “Tell me everything! Now!”

Valeria dragged her hands across her face, sending Mor a deadpanned look.“Aren’t we supposed to be discussing how to get you out of your current predicament?”

“You two fucked didn’t you?”

“Mor!” Valeria exclaimed sheepishly.

Mor’s eyes were glittering with delight. She propped her head on her hand as she looked at her mortified cousin. “Is it true what they say about Illyrian wingspans?”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Yes.”

And then Valeria was collapsing onto the bed as Mor had done, the two girls laying side by side as they burst into laughter. 

“How?” Mor was then asking.

“I don’t know. It just happened.” Valeria replied with a shrug, staring up at the stars and fairy lights hung over her bed. “He wanted me and I wanted him and I know it’s wrong. I should’ve saved myself but I didn’t want my first time to be with whoever my father–” She winced at the mention of him “--deems worthy. There is very little I have a choice in but this, this is something I wanted to have control over. It may be silly but I wanted my first time to be special.”

“I have always felt something for Azriel. I never saw him like a brother the way I do with Cassian.” Valeria continued, feeling her heart pounding at her throat. She had never voiced her feelings aloud and it was terrifying but there was a weight being lifted off her shoulders–one she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying for a while.  “I thought that maybe it was just a crush but after the first time we slept together, I wanted more. I still do. I want him. All of him and all the time and I’m scared…”

Mor frowned. “Scared?”

“Of what this could mean, of where this will lead us.” Valeria said, her eyes glistening and heart aching. “There’s also a lingering thought…that while he does care for me, it is all driven by attraction and other–” Valeria struggled to find the words. She didn’t want to say it outloud, voice her suspicions. It wasn’t a lack of trust towards Mor. She trusted her with all her heart. But because saying them aloud would make them more real and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face it all yet.”--other forces.”

The words that had almost slipped from Azriel’s mouth…she had an inkling of what they could be. They were words she was yearning to hear, she was sure of. Words that would mirror what she feels for him but something snapped in her earlier when their gazes locked. She wondered if he had felt it too, if that’s what had spurred him to dare to say those words and if it did, it brought a terrifying sense of uncertainty to her…

“Stop that.” Mor’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “What you and he have is not merely attraction or inspired by forces beyond our control. It can’t be. I’ve seen the way he looks at you since our first solstice together.”

Valeria allowed Mor’s words to comfort her, desperately clinging to them. She knew she should talk to Azriel but she didn’t want to let her insecurities and unease destroy what they have. Perhaps, it was selfish of her. But she would rather have him the way she does now than not at all.

Mor sat up with a sigh. She was happy for Valeria but also worried, knowing that the High Lord would not be accepting of the relationship between her and Azriel. There was also still the pressing matter of her engagement to Eris and all the implications that would follow. Her having to move to the Autumn court–away from the two people she loved most, Valeria and Rhysand. Not to mention having to give herself to the cruel prick and bear his children to secure him an heir.

No, she grimaced at the thought. She refused to allow that to be her future, a thought lingering in the back of her mind already. She turned back to look at Valeria, who remained laying in the bed. “Well, we’re fucked aren’t we?”

Valeria chuckled humorlessly in agreement. “Should we raid my father’s wine stash?”

“Are you sure you want to piss him off even more right now?”

“Fuck him.”

Mor then grinned as an idea sparked within her mind. “Let’s go to Rita’s!”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely not.” 

Mor and Valeria whipped their heads at the intruding voice. They found Rhysand, who had appeared just in time to hear Valeria’s offer at raiding their father’s wine stash. He was leaning against the doorway with a smirk on his face and arms crossed. He hadn’t meant to sneak up on them, the door to her room was left slightly open. Anyone could’ve easily walked in.

His violet eyes were sparkling when he added:  “Not without me.”

Mor’s grin widened. “Invite Az and Cass.”

It was decided then–that they would all go out to Rita’s for fun and a very much needed night out.

Mor winnowed back into Valeria’s room after being gone for a couple of minutes. In her arms, she carried a towering assortment of dresses. When Valeria had complained of having nothing to wear–despite her actually having plenty to wear, something Rhysand had annoyingly reminded her of–, she hadn’t expected Mor’s enthusiasm to let her borrow something of hers. 

Valeria could barely see her cousin’s face and couldn’t help but laugh. With a huff, Mor threw the pile onto the floor and began to go through it, picking out the dresses one by one. She showed them to Valeria, who seemed to shake her head no to every one of them, until finally, something caught her eye.

Mor squealed in excitement and then insisted on allowing her to do Valeria’s makeup, reminding her that she had to cover up the hickey before anyone else noticed it.

**

The night was sparkling when Azriel spotted Valeria. When Rhysand had invited him and Cassian to go out tonight, his initial answer was no. That is, until he found out that Valeria was going. Always the gentleman, he had been waiting for Valeria and Mor to arrive to walk them inside while Rhysand and Cassian found them a table inside RIta’s.

His gaze darkened as his eyes swept over Valeria. The dress she wore was sinful, short and tight, exposing the luscious skin of her legs. The legs he had wanted to wrap around his shoulders as he made her come with his tongue earlier.

“Hey, Az.” Mor called, pulling his gaze away from Valeria. The blonde motioned to her mouth. “You got a bit of drool there.”

His heart skipped a beat, body tensing as he was reminded he had to be more careful.

Valeria smiled at him, brushing her fingers against his hand as he guided them through the entrance. “Don’t mind Mor,” she whispered to him. He would have to ask her later but for the moment, Valeria’s calm demeanor was reassuring to his worries.

Azriel would’ve allowed his body to relax had it not been for the ravenous eyes that fell upon Valeria and Mor when they entered. His wings curled around the two females on either side of him with a glare, making Mor roll her eyes.

If he thought the dinner party with the High Lords was torture, boy did The Mother have something even more tortuous in store for the night.

**

The vibrant colorful fae lights cast playful shadows as Valeria and Mor moved effortlessly on the dance floor. The upbeat rhythm swirled around them, pulling them into the heart of the pulsating music. Laughing and swaying, they were engulfed in the euphoria of the club.

Mor, with her carefree spirit, spun around, her laughter filling the ear. “We should take more shots!”

“Yes!” Valeria was quick to agree, finding Mor’s energy infectious.

Grasping her hand, Mor led Valeria to the bar. Valeria let out a curse once they reached the counter. “I left my bag with Rhys.”

Mor’s lips curled into a smirk. “Oh my sweet Val, we’re not paying for our shots.”

She then placed her shoulder on Valeria’s, prompting her to turn slightly to her right. She found a handsome young male watching her with an appreciative gaze. He smirked at Valeria when he realized he finally got her attention. Mor leaned in to whisper in Valeria’s ears. “He’s been staring at you all night.”

“I’m not interested,” Valeria whispered back, offering the male a timid smile.

Mor giggled. “It doesn’t matter. Just act like it so he can buy us drinks! Quick, he’s coming!”

Valeria barely had enough time to act nonchalantly as the male approached them.

“Hello, beautiful.” He greeted her.

Valeria looked up. When she took too long to respond, she felt a slight shove from Mor. “Hi,” she managed to breathe.

“Allow me to buy you and your friend a drink.”

Valeria’s lips curled into a smirk that mirrored Mor’s. Was it really this easy? She found herself nodding at the interested male, teasing him as she leaned in to tell him what Mor and her wanted. The bartender was quick to prepare the shots, handing them out to the three of them.

The male licked his bottom lip, his gaze not leaving Valeria as the three of them raised their glasses. “To–”

“Fuck off.”

“Hey!”

Valeria glared as Azriel appeared out of nowhere and snatched the shot glass from her hand, downing it himself in one big gulp. Unlike the fae male, he didn’t wince as the amber liquid burned his throat. He glared daggers at the male, who was too close to Valeria for his liking. 

Mor’s eyes darted between the two males and she downed her shot before Azriel could take hers too.

The male chuckled. “It’s alright, I can just buy you another one.”

Azriel’s lips curled up in a snarl. He stood tall in front of the male, towering over him and blocking his view of Valeria. His eyes were dark and full of rage. “I believe I told you to fuck off.”

“Azriel!” Valeria called to him sharply but he did not falter.

“You should’ve told me you had a boyfriend, gorgeous.”

“He’s not her boyfriend.”

It was Mor who had replied with a mischievous glint in her eye. 

Azriel let out a growl, his fists clenching at his sides and a flash of hurt crossed his eyes. His shadows coiled and slivered up his shoulders, ready to strike like a venomous snake.The male was smart to take that as his sign to leave, recognizing that the glaring male in front of him was a Shadowsinger and one to not be messed with.

But the male couldn’t help but glance at Valeria once more. “I’ll see you around, gorgeous.”

Azriel turned to the two females. A glare was still etched onto his face. Valeria felt his wing against her shoulders, shielding her from the male’s lingering gaze. She noticed the way it twitched, sensing he was irritated. She bit her lip, finding a sliver of delight in Azriel’s jealousy and a heat daring to pool in her stomach.

“What the fuck, Az?” Mor then whined. “We were just trying to get free drinks!”

Azriel directed his gaze towards her, glare still on his face but now waning.  Digging his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of golden coins, brashly throwing them onto the counter. Mor’s eyes lit up at the sight. His eyes were locked on Valeria’s when he spoke. “If you want a drink, you ask me.”

“Alright, then.” Valeria replied, holding his gaze in challenge. “Then take a shot with me.”

So Azriel did and then they were taking another.

After three shots, the three decided to head back to the table they had picked out, surprised that no one else had taken it as Rhysand and Cassian were no longer seated there. Valeria shuffled into the booth beside Mor and Azriel seated himself across from them.

Valeria’s eyes darted around the hall. She couldn’t find her brother at the bar nor the dance floor. “Where’s Rhys?”

“Fucking some girl in the alley.” Azriel answered with a nonchalant shrug.

Valeria choked on her drink at his bold words. She had only heard him speak that way when it was just the two of them in the intimacy of her room.  “And Cas?”

“Also fucking that same girl.”

Mor’s eyebrows knitted together while Valeria’s eyes widened. It was Mor who spoke next. “What about Tanwyn?”

“He says she doesn’t mind sharing.” Azriel shrugged again, uninterested in continuing the conversation. He was already accustomed to Rhysand’s and Cassian’s sexual endeavors. There was a short time, back when they had just discovered the pleasures of being with a female, that the three of them would bring a female back to the training tents to share. 

Azriel had stopped joining them. He had stopped seeking pleasure with other females shortly after as he could no longer find the release he desired with them. He brought his drink to his lips as he looked at the reason why, who was sitting right across from him and avoiding his gaze.

“What about you?” Mor dared to ask, although she had an inkling as to where his desires were.

His gaze was still locked on Valeria as he spoke, his shadows dancing around him.  “I realized I don’t like sharing.”

**

Valeria and Mor had returned to the dance floor. They had tried to convince Azriel but he did not give in, not even when Valeria had given him an adorable begging look. The music throbbed in their veins and they twirled to the rhythm. Their care and worries dissipated as they enjoyed the liberating dance and sheer fun of the moment. 

A sentiment that Azriel, who had decided to watch them, did not share. He didn’t know what drink he was on but he could feel his heart pounding in his ears and the world began to spin. He was still mulling over the male from earlier. He couldn’t blame him for being interested in Valeria. She was beautiful, after all. What stung had been Mor’s word. While him and Valeria shared many intimate moments together, she was not truly his and he knew he was selfish to believe she could ever be.

 Rhysand joined him at the booth moments later, reeking of sex and alcohol. He wore a smug grin on his face.

“What a shame you didn’t join us, Az.” He said, wiping away the glistening remnants of his endeavor on his mouth with his thumb. “What a tasteful little thing she was.”

Azriel only hummed in response. His eyes returned to the dance floor to the exact spot Valeria and Mor had been dancing in. His gaze softened, amusement flickering in his hazel eyes as they caught Cassian, who rushed toward the girls enthusiastically. He watched as Cassian swayed his hips to the music, almost grinding against Mor in a playful manner while Valeria, who danced in front of Cassian, cheered them on.

Azriel didn’t know when it happened but after engaging in light conversation with Rhysand and returning his attention to the dance floor, he found a shirtless Cassian. It wasn’t long before the dancing male had found a table to climb on. He waved his shirt around with one hand, a drink in his other. He chugged the drink in his hand as he moved his hips sensually, eliciting cheers from the dancing crowd. Mor and Valeria were among the crowd, throwing coins–the ones Azriel had left with them–at the dancing Illyrian.

“We should stop him.” Rhysand mused.

“Yes, we should.” Azriel quipped.

But neither of them made a move to do so. 

They continued to watch their best friend make a fool of himself, bursting into laughter when Cassian lost his footing and fell off the table. Cassian had made his way back to their table, wings hanging low, distraught over the way his performance had ended. His words were slurred as he complained to Rhysand and Azriel.

Rhysand and Azriel were in the middle of consoling the defeated Illyrian when Valeria and Mor appeared. Their hands were full as they carried shot glasses.

“A round of shots to celebrate the best performance ever!” Valeria exclaimed with a grin as she clumsily raised her glass.

Cassian’s head lifted from the table. “The best performance ever?”

“Best performance ever!” Mor echoed, encouraging the rest to grab a shot.

Cassian’s eyes lit up as he took the remaining shot glass. They all grinned at each other as their glasses clinged, cheering for Cassian and then they were downing the amber liquid in one go. The night continued on, full of more dancing and drinking.

Valeria had lost count on how many shots they had taken but it was enough to have them all stumbling their way out of Rita’s. She let out a curse as she looked at her brother and friends behind her, realizing they were too drunk to winnow back to the Moonstone palace and too far away from the House of Wind to fly. 

Rhysand, who couldn’t remember his name but could remember all the lyrics to an old song, clung onto Cassian, who joined him in singing out loud. Mor was right behind them, lost in a fit of giggles. Valeria allowed them to walk ahead of her before she proceeded to continue but a large membranous wing came into her view, halting her in her step.

“Let’s fly back?”

Valeria laughed as she looked up at Azriel, who now stood in front of her. “I think we’re too drunk for that.”

“M’not.” Azriel objected with a defiant look on his face.

Valeria watched as he unfurled his wings, preparing to push off the ground. She reached forward in an attempt to grab his hand and stop him. He made it almost five feet into the air before he lost his balance and came crashing down.

“Az!” Valeria exclaimed but she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped from her.

She ran to Azriel to make sure he was okay, relieved that his injuries were nothing but a bruised knee. He looked up at her, still on his knees. His shadows swirled around him, some reaching out to caress her face in a loving manner.

 A sly grin formed on his face. “Looks like I’ve fallen for you.”

Valeria blushed. “Yeah, sure.”

“Sure? What do you mean sure?” Azriel’s lips pressed into a pout. A sight Valeria found absolutely adorable. “Are you mad at me?”

He was then wrapping his arms around her, burying his face into her stomach. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Valeria ran her fingers through his soft hair.

“I’m not mad at you.”

 “I love you.”

They said in unison. Azriel’s three words hung in the air. She froze, her fingers no longer brushing through his hair, eliciting a small whimper from him.

“You’re drunk, Az.” She replied, her voice soft and quiet, opposite to the beating of her heart. “I’m drunk.”

“I still mean it.” 

The fingers embedded into his hair made their way to his chin. She coaxed his gaze to meet hers as she lifted his chin up.

Her eyes, glossy and tinged with red, still shone with an unmistakable longing and admiration–feelings she held exclusively for him. She reached out to lightly brush his cheek with her thumb.

“Then, I love you too.”

His eyes fluttered shut at her touch. “I want to be your boyfriend.”

“I want you to be my boyfriend too.” 

Azriel inhaled sharply, his thoughts a swirling tempest like the shadows around him. He wasn’t sure if the alcohol was to blame entirely. He wondered whether her words were genuine or merely an agreeable response.

**

Valeria didn’t know how but by some miracle–perhaps thanks to the help of Azriel’s sober shadows–they found themselves in the middle of his room. His arms were still around her and head still resting on her stomach. She crouched down to shift one of his arms around her shoulder, looking at his shadows for help. They complied and together, they heaved him onto his bed.

The room around her was spinning and she lost her balance for a moment, the effects of all the alcohol still strong. She blinked the room into focus and her eyes darted around. She had never been inside Azriel’s room at the Moonstone palace. It was neat and simple, adorned with dark shades of blue and black.

Her heart swelled when it landed on his nightstand and she recognized the worry dolls she had gifted him years ago, neatly placed. She noticed some were missing but she caught sight of one of them peeking out from his pillows.

When her gaze traveled back to Azriel, she found him propped on his elbows, looking right at her, awakening butterflies in her stomach. His black dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows and unbuttoned, revealing the tattooed muscled skin below. His dark hair was tousled and earring glimmering under the fae lights. His eyes were hooded, clouded with admiration and lust.

He looked absolutely sinful.

Azriel smirked at her, spreading his legs further for her. There was a devious glint in his hazel eyes as he glanced to his lap and then back to her. “Won’t you join me in my bed, my pretty girl?”

Valeria bit her lip. Her legs were moving before she could form a proper reply. She didn’t hear the thud against the door or the footsteps behind her, too consumed by her desire. But she did catch a figure out of the corner of her eye. 

“I’ll be your pretty girl, my pretty boy!” 

Valeria swayed on her feet as Cassian swept past her. He dashed for Azriel and threw himself on the bed. Azriel let out a groan, cursing under Cassian’s weight. It was then that Valeria heard Mor’s voice and she turned towards the open door just in time to see Rhysand face plant on the floor.

**

Cassian had been the first one to wake up, finding himself cuddled against Azriel’s back. Mor was on Cassian’s side, curled up against a pillow, snoring softly. When he sat up, he grimaced at the pounding in his head but also at the drool he had accidentally left on one of Azriel’s wings. 

His eyes had then darted around the room, remembering that Rhysand had been the one to winnow them back to the Moonstone palace. It had taken a couple of tries to get them to the Moonstone palace due to Rhysand’s inebriated state. He had winnowed them to Windhaven right outside of Lord Devlon’s camp on accident first and then to the Sidra before finally succeeding. As soon as they had arrived at the Moonstone palace, Cassian had insisted they–him, Rhys and Mor–sleep in Azriel’s room as his bed was the largest and comfiest. 

Cassian couldn’t help but let out a chuckle when he found Rhysand near the door. He remained on the exact spot he had face planted on. Except, he was laying on his side. 

But where was Valeria?

A slight frown formed on his face as he searched for her. He could smell her so he knew she had to be in the room too. Something prompted him to look to Azriel again. He followed the curve of his wing–the one that didn’t have Cassian’s drool. His eyes widened, lips pressing into a taut line. Hidden beneath Azriel’s wing and curled into him was Valeria.

His hands were pulling at Azriel’s shoulders, forcing him to lay on his back. Valeria shifted, turning the opposite way. Azriel let out a groan, squinting his eyes. “What the fuck, Cas?”

“Get up.” Cassian almost seethed. “Now.”

**

tag list:  @justrepostandlove, @kemillyfreitas, @thelov3lybookworm

A/N: pls don't hate me for az and val choosing to live in ignorant bliss and not communicating with each other. they will communicate soon! I just couldn't help myself with a drunken confession, who knows if they'll remember it the day after. also, it ended up working out with having a both slightly possessive and pouty drunk Az (:

#acotar #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand's sister #azriel x rhysand's sister #rhysand imagine #azriel imagine #acosm #acotar smut #azriel smut #azriel fanfic

[jackie5656]

First and Last With; James Potter

A/N: Hello again! I finally finished that wonderful request, so sorry it took forever. Football (NFL playoffs) and school preparations have kept me preoccupied. Winter break is over and I’m absolutely devastated. For anyone in college, I wish you luck for this Spring Semester. But with that being said, school starting back up means I likely won’t upload as much. So I apologize in advance. Regardless, I hope this makes up for the wait on this request. To the lovely anon and all others, enjoy!

Summary: The one where the Marauders vacation to the Potter’s beach house, and a revealing drinking game ensues...

TW: Descriptions of panic attacks, Sirius is an ass as usual, a lot of mutual pining.

   “Marlene, you have packed half of your house and more, it’s just a week’s vacation.”

“Anything could happen, Sirius. Better to be over prepared than under prepared.”

“I’m just happy James is filthy rich.” Dorcas deadpans, straightening when you and Lilly shoot her a disapproving look. “And so, very generous at the same time.”

“I’m not filthy rich.” James laughs, taking your bags from your grasp and loading them into the trunk for you. Amongst all of your friends belongings, piled high enough to reach the top of the van you’ve rented for the adventure. “We’re just...Comfortable.”

“That’s what all rich people say.” You and Remus look to each other, stunned at your simultaneous blunt confessions. 

“Shush, the lot of you.” Lilly chides, never sparing commonalities. 

“Remind me why we couldn’t just use floo powder? I’m already sweating, and my complexion does not do well in heat.” Sirius fans himself dramatically. James allows you to lift yourself over the mountains of bags with his arm for support in order to reply. 

“When have any of you experienced the adventure of a road trip?” You’re beaming at the thought, James takes your distraction as an opportunity to admire your unusually giddy attitude. Though the real reason you’re so eager to be away from home pulls at his mind, his grin faltering. He pokes your side, grabbing your attention. 

“Miss sunshine gets shotgun, I’ve called it.”

“Prongs, I thought you’d have wanted me to be your passenger princess?”

“Absolutely not, though I’ll miss those luscious locks of yours. I’m driving, so I select my navigator.”

“You’ve been there a million times.” You note, crossing your arms incredulously. James smirks, placing his burgundy and gold quidditch cap atop your head. 

“I’d much rather you keep me company.” He says so only you can hear, unknowing of your flushing when he turns back to Sirius. “Pads, Moons is gonna need a pretty view, it’s fortunate he’ll have you in the middle seat.”

“I’m reading! Reading this entire time, very busy.” Remus teases, pleased with the raven-haired boy’s mock offense. 

You round the corner of the van after checking the trunk for the fourth time, positive you haven’t forgotten any supplies for the trip. James is at the passenger side, holding the door open for you. He’s got a pair of prescription sunglasses on, and looks very different. No less handsome, if anything, the shades accentuate the bravado you’ve always envied. His arms are especially toned after another quidditch season, tanned from the summer sun you’ve missed so dearly. You’re staring. 

“Systems ready, co-pilot?” He beams down at you, pulling his cap over your eyes in teasing. You stick a tongue out at him, pulling his arms away so you can  adjust it right again. 

“I feel silly in this.”

“Nonsense, you look adorable. My clothes suit you.” He defends, so casual you don’t let the words resonate until after he’s shut your door and rounded to the drivers side. 

“Enjoy the passenger seat, princess.” Sirius sneers, pouting despite not holding any true ill-will. 

“Gladly.” 

************

“Are we there yet?” 

“No, Dorcas. Just like we weren’t there ten minutes ago.” James glances at the girl through the rearview, slightly amused with her childish complaints. 

“You know, we could just pull over and-”

“No floo powder!” You and Lilly shout to Sirius, hoping not to have awoken a sleeping Marlene and Remus. Sirius covers their ears, both of them having dropped their heads on each one of his shoulders some time throughout their slumber. You finish fiddling with the radio when a good song comes on, taking a moment to look at the lot of your friends all corralled in the van. 

“Where’s the camera, James?” 

“On my side door here, I’ll pull over if you want it.” 

“Oh, so you’ll pull over for her.”

“Shut it, Pads.” 

“No need, I can reach it.” You lean over the seat, careful not to block his view of the road as you quickly grab it. James swallows, clears his throat to act natural whilst all of his insides begin to burn. 

“Hot?” Is all you ask, studying his discomposure.

“What?” He starts, voice shaky and strained. Sirius falls into a fit of muffled laughter from the back, leaving you confused. “J-Just a little warm, yeah.” Potter recovers, now well aware you were inquiring about temperature. You turn up the AC, taking the cover off the lens and pointing the camera toward the back. Sirius smiles wide for the camera, handsome features lighted by the early afternoon sun. Marlene and Remus drool along on his shoulders as Lilly beams brightly from the back. Looking positively radiant, as always. Dorcas smiles, but holds up her favorite finger to the lens. You grin,full of adoration for the entire lot of them as you snap a couple photos, ensuring they’re all in the frame. 

James admires in increments from the rearview, blowing a raspberry to the camera when you point it at him. 

“Eyes on the road, Potter.” He shakes his head, running a hand over the steering wheel in a mindless habit as he hears the camera snap. Looking over quickly to smile at the lens. Effortlessly handsome, as usual. 

“We have to take as many pictures as possible this week.” You demand, getting excited all over again for the much needed vacation, spent with all your best friends, no less. 

You roll down your window even more, sticking your head to enjoy the warm, salty air. It smells of the beach, grass, all things green and beautiful. You’re so happy your head spins, giggling to yourself as you catch Lilly doing the same behind you. Meeting her eyes in the side mirror and scrunching your nose when she blows a kiss, an embellished hand pretending to capture it in the air and holding it to your heart. 

James does a double take from his view of the road and then you. Trying to stay focused and not find any distraction in your adorably delighted mood. His brows furrow when you shuffle forward, aiming to get even more of your body out of window the feel the entirety of what this beautiful view has to offer.

“Absolutely not.” He chastises, a finger hooking onto your belt loop and tightening. His eyes are on the road, one hand on the wheel as he tugs you back inside. 

“Lame!” You whine, hitting his arm in distaste. 

“I prefer my friends with their pretty heads in tact, thank you.” 

You settle in your seat, still full of delight but a little more contemplative as you think about what got you here.

“Summer vacation!” Sirius throws himself between you and Remus during lunch. Gathering an assortment of food on his own plate. You’ve barely eaten, stomach turning at the thought of being home for two months. You’re nudged from under the table, meeting James’ gaze, whose eyes avert to your abandoned plate. A subtle request for you to eat. You offer a weak smile, shrugging before your friends go on. 

“Two whole months without exams.” Marlene adds, absolutely pleased with not having to spend another second with her nose in a book. 

“We’ll be seventh years, I can hardly believe it.” You’ve considered Lilly’s words the entirety of this last month of classes, absolutely dreading going home. Hogwarts is more home than your house would ever be, and your friends are the only real family you have. You lose your breath at this, biting at the nail of your thumb and wincing when it draws blood. 

“I’m gonna head to the library,” You announce, blinking hard to fight the room from blurring. “Forgot to turn in my potions textbook.” It’s believable enough for the group to nod along, chorusing their farewells as you head out of the great hall. Heart racing and hands trembling. James takes only a moment, eyes following you the entire time. It’s not his business, but he knows that demeanor. He’s seen all of this before, in the boy he calls his best friend. Sirius Black, who leans forward and shoots James a look. Instantly, the chaser is on his feet, mumbling a feeble excuse and heading out of the hall in search for you. 

“I think he left the curling iron on.”

James searches the corridor wildly, all of the students being in the Great Hall makes the search easy, he can follow the sound of your fleeting footsteps with ease in this sea of silence. He follows your distant frame up a set of stairs, cursing to himself when they shift before he can follow your path. He’s searching for a new route, not wanting to shout to you and scare you even more.

There’s a lot of running, a couple instances of tripping over his own feet, but eventually Potter catches up to you. 

You’re sat in a windowsill beneath an overhang of a hallway above, curled in on yourself. James approaches carefully, trying to control his panting breaths. 

“Fuck, James!” You startle each other, studying the other instantly.

“You’re” the athlete coughs, winded, “so fast.” You smile, but it does little to calm you down, because as he gets closer, the view around him blurs, and everything sounds cloudy, distant. 

“I’m,” you try to form words, too loud because you can’t hear yourself properly. “F-fine.” You try to move, try escaping to prevent embarrassing yourself further. Clutching your chest and swiping at the flood of tears that can’t be ceased. 

“You’re not. You’re having a panic attack.” 

“Happened b-before,” you wheeze, staring at your hands to make sure they’re real “I’m good.” 

“And I’m a humble introvert that loves Slytherin, sit down.” You begin to wheeze, rubbing your hands over your legs to stop them from sweating, ground yourself maybe. “I’m gonna hug you, tight. Is that alright?” You nod, because you’re not entirely sure what he’s just said and it’s easier to comply. 

He encloses you in an embrace, loosening for only a second when you fight it. He’s squeezing again, but it’s not unpleasant. You’re shaking, and your breaths are still rapid. James swallows, terrified and unsure. Because all of this usually helps Sirius but he’s still kind of freaking the fuck out.

“Let’s talk about something.” He suggests, wincing when you hiccup for air in reply. “I know you’ll love this. What’s something about me that annoys you?” You’re aware he’s trying to distract you, and you feel like you’re dying, so you give it a go in the off chance it’ll help.

“You’re im-immature.”

“Good. But you’ve done better than that, love.” 

“You’re reckless. You play quidditch like,” you lick your lips, trying to control your trembling. “Like you’re indestructible.” 

“Attagirl, something else?”

“You’re picky, and...And you’re too stubborn to try new things.” James hums, recalling a time you’d forced him to drink pumpkin juice an he hurled in the lavatory minutes later. He rests his chin on your head, pleased when the added pressure slows your breathing. 

“You’d do anything for your friends, no matter the personal expense. It’s self destructive, p-probably exhausting.”

“Ouch. You really know how to flatter a man, love.” 

“I don’t want to go home.” You whisper, so quiet he’d miss it had he not been surveying your every move. The confession shocks even you, and James, for likely the first time in his life, is devastated to be right about something. 

“I’m not gonna let you. We’re going to figure this out. I’m gonna figure this out, I promise.” 

“You’re doing that thing again.” You note, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your robe. Further comforted in the feel of his chest vibrating against you from laughing.

“And you’re forming full sentences.” He loosens, giving you space to decide whether or not you want to separate.  You don’t, not right away, not when you can feel the strong, stable beating of his heart. 

“What am I gonna do? I can’t stay here over break. Even if Dumbledore allowed it, my family would-” You falter, unable to finish. James holds tight again, nauseated. 

“I promised. And I intend on keeping it, love.”

**********

“Land! Sweet, sweet land.” Sirius cries, throwing himself onto the freshly cut grass. 

“James, it’s stunning.” Lilly shades her eyes to admire the shore house. Standing taller than the others around it. 

“It’s home. Away from home, that is.” James shrugs, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. There’s a faint, deep-rooted envy for the blessings your friends hold. Sirius rolls onto his back to look at you, the only one noticing your hunched shoulders amongst the rest of the group beginning to unload the van. 

“Shall we go inside, lovely? Get dibs on the best rooms while these common folk collect our luggage. He extends his arm for you to take, adjusting the sunglasses adorning his face and ignoring the displeased looks of your friends. Stealing a kiss to your temple as he leads you inside. 

“Moony, sweetheart, do be careful with my things. I’ll show you what bed to place them on.”

“Fuck off, Pads.”

“That’s Sir Padfoot, to you.” 

You and Sirius falter, shocked to see an older woman placing the finishings of a homemade meal on the large kitchen table. The inside is even more impressive than the out, but you don’t have much time to appreciate the decorum. Considering you’re engulfed in an oddly familiar embrace. 

“Welcome, welcome!” She beams, holding Sirius’ face and kissing his cheeks with small pinches. 

“How’s my Siri?”

“Alright, mum. Thanks. James didn’t mention you’d be here. Though it’s a very happy surprise.” He looks at the wrinkled, stunning woman that smells of lavender and tea like she’s hung every star in the sky. It’s then you make the obvious connection this is Mrs. Potter. 

“Oh, he doesn’t know either. I’m only here to make sure you’re all settled in and then I’ll be on my way. We haven’t visited here in a while, I wanted to be sure it looked alright for you all.”

“Hard to imagine it ever looks less than gorgeous,” you say without thinking, “thank you for having us. This is lovely.” 

“And so are you, dear. Sirius, tell me this beautiful young girl is with you?” She strokes your hair, and it’s the most comforting touch you’ve likely ever felt. 

“Only in my dreams, unfortunately. Unless dear y/n would like to make a wish come true?” You laugh, swatting away his puckered lips. 

“Y/n? Oh, I’ve been waiting to meet you! Sweetheart, Jamie talks about you so much in his letters!”

“Let’s get waste-Mum!” James drops the bag in hand, yours. Pulling the handle of liquor behind his back in pure shock. “What are you doing here?” 

“Thought I’d have a warm meal waiting for you kids. You must be starving after that drive. Though I’m so happy you did as opposed to powdering here. Shows some responsibility. And Jamie gets so sick sometimes with the powder and all-”

“Mum!” The taller boy repeats, setting the array of luggage in hand down and hiding the bottle behind it. 

“I’m doting, aren’t I? Remmy!”  She stops herself, rushing over to envelop the taller boy in her arms. He, just as Sirius, is absolutely pleased to see her. She goes down the line of girls, putting faces to names and genuinely loving every second of it. James sighs, no genuine distaste in his nature as he observes.

Sirius throws an arm over your shoulder, cheeky as ever. “Mum was just telling us about your letters home.” 

“You’re just as pretty as he said you were. All you girls are so beautiful!” She goes on, blissfully unaware of her beet-red son. 

“She exaggerates.” James scratches his neck, skin burning with embarrassment. 

“Does she?” Siris pulls you closer, basking in your shared humiliation. 

“This food looks wonderful Mrs. Potter. Thank you so much for thinking of us.” Lilly clasps her hands together, rolling her eyes fondly at James’ indebted glance. 

“Call me Euphemia, please. And yes, you all must be starving. Come, fill those bellies with something warm.” You’re in a state of shock as you sit, unaccustomed to such hospitality and genuine kindness. It’s evident where James gets his big heart, undying selflessness. 

The food is amazing, you all go for seconds with a chorus of shared appreciation and compliments. Euphemia beams as she collects her things, pleased to meet the lot of friends her son cares for so deeply. 

“All the beds have fresh sheets, and there’s extra throw blankets in the linen closet. Jamie, your father says go easy on the fire whisky. He’d ask for no drinking, but we all know that’s a long shot. Don’t break anything, and Remmy, keep everyone in check.” The taller boy nods swiftly, no doubt having heard the orders before. James gets up from his seat, kissing his mothers cheek and enveloping her in a hug. 

“Thank you mum, seriously.” She fixes his hair, wiping invisible smudges from his face in a fit of doting. 

“No problem, I’m glad you were all able to make it here. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. All of you.” Theres a quick moment where she meets both you and Sirius’ eyes, the two of you nodding with feigned smiles. Quickly, she kisses both Moony and Padfoot’s heads, stopping for only a moment to caress your cheek with her thumb, a faint sadness in her gaze. Everyone else is enveloped in conversation, passing servings across the table as they would at the Great Hall. 

“You’ll keep an eye on my Jamie, won’t you?” She whispers, touch soothing you with an unknown ease. 

“Of course, though I’m not sure he needs it.” You hold her wrist, somehow not minding the affection whatsoever. 

“So he likes to think. He does, really, speak so fondly of you in his letters. You’re even more lovely than he described.” You want to cry, so overwhelmed with her generosity and love, a maternal energy so strong it’s wiped your mind of any anxieties. 

“Alright, mum. Let the poor girl eat.” James guides her toward the fireplace, while his mother pats his arm and says something to him you don’t quite catch. James’ ears burn bright red, and he nudges her gently so she’ll stop looking over at you. The rest of the group turns toward the fireplace, echoing their farewells and gratuity as she waves. Floo powder enveloping the space around her and sending her off. 

“Does that turn your stomach just looking at it, Jamie?” Marlene mocks, the rest of your laughing through bites of food as he flips her off. 

“Fuck off, the lot of you.” 

“We should start cleaning up.” You suggest, taking your own plate and bringing it to the sink. “This way we can unpack before the sun sets.” Lilly follows, taking her and Dorcas’ plate to you as you begin washing. Sirius groans, grabbing a dish towel from one of the drawers and drying the dishes you hand him. 

“Can’t we just charm the sponges to clean these?”

“Dad had them countered so they can’t be charmed. Said it was supposed to teach me some ‘household responsibility.’” Sirius howls, thoroughly amused.

“I’m just curious about these detailed letters back home.” Remus mutters as he carries his plate past James, dodging his swings and rushing toward the group at the sink for safety. 

*****************

After everyone’s settled in, and you’ve all recovered from the ‘who called what room first’ arguments, there’s an obligatory round of shots. A bin begins to pile high with cans, and you’re all sat around a bonfire atop the Potter’s outdoor furniture. Even the furniture for the backyard looks expensive, so you clutch your drink in hopes not to make any spills. 

You’re buzzed now, skin tingling with an uncommon ease as you lean against the arm of the couch. Sea breeze easing the warm air as the fire pops in front of you. 

“Alright, none of you are drunk enough.” Sirius chastises, shifting in his seat and tossing Lilly another beer. “Never have I ever,” you all groan in half-assed annoyance as the name of the game sounds, “been snitched on by Peeves.” 

You and the rest of the girls take slow, ashamed, sips. The boys all looking over in amazement. 

“We snuck out one time! All I wanted was a bloody butter beer.” Marlene confesses, flushed. James stretches as he approaches, still sore from driving. He passes you his cup, grinning when you cringe at whatever concoction he’s come up with. You move your legs so he can sit beside you, the rest of the couches having been taken. 

“It was a terrible craving, but nonetheless worth the loss of points for Gryffindor.” 

“Is that why we were tied with Ravenclaw mid semester?” Remus laughs over his cup. 

“We still won the cup!” You and Lilly defend, James taking hold of your legs to place them on top of his. He isn’t even thinking about it, too enthralled with the teasing conversation before him as he slides a hand under the cuff of your jeans. Warm hands calloused from quidditch running over your shin. You’ve always found affection with him comes easier than with others, and the touch comforts you, electricity lingering on your skin. 

“Never have I ever, had my first kiss.” Because Dorcas also aims to have the rest of you drinking more, she says what she thinks is the most common proposition. Your stomach turns, and you debate on taking a sip just because it’ll spare you the embarrassment. You must consider it too long, because Sirius’ brows shoot up in shock. 

“Merlin, how?” Is all Sirius manages, the girls’ jaws dropping because you’ve never told them. 

“I volunteer!” Marlene shoots a hand up while you curl into the cushions, wishing you’d just had the drink. 

“It’s not that there haven’t been opportunities.” You struggle through the explanation, tugging on the sleeves of your shirt to fight the cold. “I just, I guess, want the first one to matter. If it’s been this long I may as well make it special.” They all coo in mocking, laughing when you flip them off. 

“I get it.” James pats your leg, taking generous sips of his own drink. 

“You don’t.” Theres an amusement in your tone, no real meanness to any of it. 

“Well what about that Hufflepuff third semester, he was totally into you.” Dorcas inquires. 

“Are we seriously this interested in my love life, or lack thereof?” You roll your eyes when they all agree, giddy from the topic and the alcohol. “I thought he was into me, but I don’t know. We stopped talking after a while.”

“Wait,” Remus narrows his brows, too contemplative to see James’ signals. “That curly haired guy, beater for Huffle?” You nod, giggling because he’s not usually this slow to understanding, clearly inebriated. 

“Wasn’t that the kid that came up to us at Hogsmeade, Prongs?” Potter vehemently shakes his head, chugging his drink again. 

“Nope, I don’t think so.” 

“No, I’m pretty sure it was. You two didn’t get on that well, I think.” Sirius covers his mouth to muffle his laughing, basking in Moony’s drunken confession. 

“You sabotaged me!” You frown, James grabbing your leg so you can’t kick his side. 

“Listen, I overheard him boasting in the locker room. He’s not the type you should be around. Trust me.” He’s sincere, enough to make you relax. 

“He was a bit of an ass, sweetheart. Prongs isn’t entirely wrong.”

“You two are still snog-blocks.” Dorcas is quick at your defense, crossing her arms in solidarity.

“If I wasn’t banished to solitude, I’d kiss you, Dorcas.” 

“Time and place, lovely.” You clutch your heart, feigning a blush in your antics.

*********

“Alright, I need my beauty rest. Someone needs to remain the prettiest of the friend group.” Sirius stretches, tapping a dazed Remus on the cheek to get him up. His actions initiate the turning in of the rest of the group. To which you and James groan. 

“It’s only 2, you’re all lame!” Potter sneers, looking to you for consolation. You nod along, displeased with their departure. 

“You night owls can stay up as long as you want, but we have all week to be sleep deprived.” Marlene ruffles James’ hair and kisses your temple as she stupors inside, giggling all the way with the other girls. 

“And then there were two.” You stretch, moving over when James shifts, moving into a laying position. In order to fit comfortably, you still have to keep your legs over his. “You know, now theres three other open couches.”

“I like it here.” He decides, enclosing his hands over his chest and settling in. You chuckle, letting him tangle his legs in yours. 

It’s confusing, because he chooses you as his passenger, his seat-mate, scares other guys away. Fuck, he planned an entire trip just because you and Sirius have such shitty home lives. Guilt twinges in your chest, and the alcohol allows you to finally say what you’ve been holding in since you first got in the car. “James?” He hums, hazel eyes looking up at the array of stars in the night sky. “Why did you do all this?” Potter sits up, looking over to you in disbelief. 

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t you like it here?”

“Like it? It’s a shore house filled with all of my closest friends and alcohol. I love it here.” He laughs, nudging your legs with his own in teasing. 

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he starts, answering your question with one of his own. “Would you be willing to spend the whole summer here?” 

This time, you sit up, brows raised in shock. “Sorry?” 

“Instead of having to go home, you could stay here.” 

“James, I couldn’t possibly intrude like that-”

“It wouldn’t just be us two.” He unnecessarily reassures. “I’ve already spoke with Pads, and he’s staying. My mum doesn’t want him going home either.”

“You already talked to your parents about it?” 

“In the chance either of you said yes. They both are more than happy to have us stay here. There’s internship positions at my dad’s company, and he said if we looked after the house and helped him out, we’d be more than welcome to stay.” 

“Are you starting a shelter for the broken homes club or something?” You jest, not in poor taste, but because it’s the only defense mechanism you know. James frowns anyway, upset at the thought.

“I care about the both of you. And...I’d never want either of you going home to- Well, anything other than a place you feel safe. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you. Knowing I could have stopped it. Understand?”

You nod, warm tears brimming in your eyes. Because in a world full of people that don’t, James Potter cares. You tackle him in a hug, overcome with the foreign feeling of being cared about, protected. He falters, wrapping an arm around your waist with a small laugh. 

“That’s a yes, then?” You nod, smile pulling at your lips when he uses his thumb to wipe away your tears. 

“James?”

“Yeah?” He’s soft-spoken now, eyes studying yours as you press your hands to his chest. 

“Is there...Any other reason you told that guy to stay away from me?” He swallows, licking his lips with an unusual anxiety to him. He meets your eyes again, pleading for another hint.

“Would you want there to be?”

“I’d like to have my first kiss.” You play with a pull in his sweater, fighting a smile at his nervous demeanor. “Would you want it to be you?” He nods, slow, and honestly unsure if you’re fucking with him. Considering how embarrassed he’d be if this is some joke, or a dream, maybe. “James?” You move closer, and he snaps out of his daze.

“I would.” He averts his eyes to your lips, back to your eyes again to ensure you’re sincere. “Like to kiss you, I mean.” 

You remove the space between you, putting your lips to his and hoping it comes natural like everyone says. It must, because he’s pulling you into his lap, a hint of a whine escaping his throat. You grin, flushing at his eagerness. He squeezes your sides harder, a warning. 

“Stop it.”  He continues past your jaw, down your neck, hearts thrumming with excitement and uncertainty. He tilts your head with his thumb, grinning when he nips at your skin and you gasp. Pulling back, he surveys his work, kissing you two more times before letting you breath. 

Is that what I’ve been missing out on?” You pant, energy coursing through you and accentuating your buzz tenfold.

“Up to expectations?”

“Exceeded, I’m pretty sure.” You blink hard, taking hold of his wrists and moving them so they can slide under the hem of your shirt. You hold them at your waist, a silent sign to keep them there. Though you’re sure he would have anyway. He kisses you again, more intense this time, finally allowing all the pent up tension between the two of you release. 

James, against every fiber of being in his body, pulls you away from him. Both breathing hard to collect yourselves. “While I’d really, really like to keep this up.” He starts, trying not to reconsider when your perfume envelopes his senses. “I’d like to take you out for dinner first. If you’ll let me.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Potter?” You whisper, teasing him as if it’s the hottest gossip to reach Hogwarts. 

“Are you gonna say yes, pretty girl? Or leave me hanging?” You nod, and James throws his head back against the cushions, absolutely relieved. 

*************

You blink awake, fire still burning brightly after being charmed by Lilly earlier in the evening. In the midst of you and James conversation, filled with recalling old times, plans for the rest of the summer, and a lot more alcohol, you both fell asleep. James’ jumper covers your frame, while the boy lays on the other side with only a sweater to keep warm. 

“Prongs.” You nudge him, wincing when he groans. “It’s too cold, let’s go in.”

“Too tired,” he croaks, voice riddled with sleep, “too drunk. Come over on this side.” He rolls on his back, groaning again when the world spins with him. 

“What, like...Next to you?”

“No, curled up on the floor like a cat.” Your brows furrow at his sassiness, fighting a smile as you crawl over. Muttering a half-assed apology when you nearly knee his groin. 

Hesitantly, you place a head on his chest, letting him grab you under one knee and pulling it up so you leg rests over his abdomen. Immediately, he releases a deep breath, fully relaxed. Your body, though, tingles with that same electricity from before, keeping you awake. 

“Sleep.” He orders, nudging the back of your head with his shoulder, eyes closed but somehow aware.

“Can’t.”

“Is this alright?” He blinks awake, afraid he’s made you uncomfortable. 

“Good, this is good.” You reassure, pulling on his jumper so it covers both of you. He pushes your arm away, tugging on the fabric and covering only you again, stern in his actions. 

“Close your eyes. I need us both to sleep this alcohol off so I can kiss you again.”

“Who says I’ll let you, Potter?”

“I may have been your first kiss, but I’m also aiming to be your last. So please, Dove, shut up and sleep” You’re speechless, he’s stunned you with his confession and simultaneous attitude. 

“I hate you.”

“I seriously doubt that.” There’s a smile on his face, you can hear it in his grumbling voice. Wordlessly, he moves the arm that’s under you so he can stroke your cheek, eyebrows, and jaw with the hook of his finger. Knowing the gentle touch will send you off to sleep. And it does, because you don’t wake again until morning. 

********

“Rise and shine, love birds. If you want to hoot with the owls, you’ve got to fly with the eagles.” Sirius chimes, a click of a camera sounding out after he speaks.

“Any louder, Pads, and I’ll break your jaw.” James covers your ears, shielding you from your friends shrill laughter with an intense glare. His head pounds something awful, and he’s pretty sure he’s never been this hungover in his entire life. He remembers every second, though, memories of last night bringing a dopey smile to his face. Despite the alcohols consequences. 

“Hey.” He nudges your arm, ignoring the gawking of his friends through the glass sliding door as he wakes you. You yawn, stretching atop him and regaining sense of your surroundings. 

“Are we supposed to be spinning?” James rolls his eyes, much too fond of you for his own good. 

“We have to get up, theres breakfast.”

“I can’t eat a single thing right now.”

“Yes you can,” he pushes you again, sighing in feigned annoyance when you rub your face into his shirt. Shielding the morning light from your eyes. In one swift movement, he sits you both up and hurls you over his shoulder, ignoring your squirms of protest with an obnoxious yawn. He sets you down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, grumbling a hello to your astonished group of friends. You’re too hungover to feel embarrassed, smiling a thank you to Remus when he slides his glass of orange juice toward you, Sirius’ sunglasses over his eyes. 

“Gimme those,” you plead, extending an arm that’s quickly swatted away.

“Get your own,” he whines, “I let you have my juice.” You accept this, nursing the glass as though it’ll save your life. 

“Late night?” Lilly teases, putting a plate of food in front of you and James. You both groan, but offer your gratitude for breakfast anyway. 

“Figured you would have at least made it inside.” Marlene chastises, amused with your zombie-like states. You frown when James finishes what’s left in your glass, watching as he leans across the counter to grab the carton and refills it. Sirius places a steaming cup of tea in front of you and Potter, avoiding your distrusting gaze as he clears his throat to speak. 

He’s awfully cheeky all the sudden, hoisting himself onto the counter with his signature mischievous grin. “Never have I ever…Had my first kiss?” His voice tilts in questioning at the end, and you’re momentarily displeased with the realization you’ll be spending the rest of the summer with the shit-starting bastard you consider a friend. 

You’re absolutely flushed, curling in on yourself when a chorus of cheers erupts after taking a swift sip from your mug.

#james potter x reader #james potter #aaron taylor johnson #Marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders imagine #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #marauders fancasts #hogwarts #harry potter #sirus black #Remus Lupin #lilly potter #lilly evans #dorcas meadowes #marlene marauders #fluff #angst #sirius black x reader

[suzdin]

Two for One: Chapter Four

Neighbor!Dave York x F!Reader x Human!Max Phillips

Series Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-vampire Max, pre-Equalizer 2 Dave, familial drama and angst, mentions of drug use/abuse, alcoholism!, stalking (don’t do it), voyeurism (so so much), invasions of privacy, mutual masturbation, sexting, oral (m receiving), dom!Dave, soft!Dave, dom!Max, softish!Max, public sex, work sex, some fluff, maybe?, SEA OTTERS!, murder, poison, asphyxiation, let me know if I forgot anything, watch me make up stuff about an aquarium I’ve never been to and also poison.

Word Count: 7,700+

Notes: Sorry this took forever because my brain is dumb. I just want to thank all of you for being so patient. I love you and hope you have a wonderful 2024. 💜 Enjoy and feel free to leave me feedback if you wish! 😊

(Not my gif)

—

You make Max exchange phone numbers as he’s leaving your apartment.

“No more showing up uninvited,” you reprimand him, the heel of your palm planted firmly between his shoulder and sternum as you push him into the corridor of your building, “I mean it.”

He cocks his head to one side, lopsided smirk twisting his lips, forehead wrinkling as he lifts his brows, pausing. He’s staring at your still very much flushed and sweaty face. “You sure about that, doll?”

Your skin heats even more. You hate to admit that his smarmy defiance arouses you in ways that it shouldn’t.

“Max. If we’re going to keep whatever this is ongoing, I’m going to need some compliance here. For my privacy.”

Max’s smirk only grows wider and he beams at you, his gaze sliding down your face to your lips, hands raised in surrender. “You mean so I don’t cross paths with him, is that it?” he asks, quirking one of his brows to the side, knowing you’re fully cognizant who he’s talking about. “Fine.”

“Tell me you’re not bullshitting,” you retort.

“Woman,“ Max begins, wagging a finger at you, “I assure you that I am in no way being deceitful.”

He hasn’t wiped that shit eating grin off his face the entire time he’s been standing in front of you, either.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Scout’s honor?” you press.

“Scout’s honor,” he replies, lifting his hand in a mocking salute.

You sigh and shove him back another step, his back almost flush with your neighbor’s door.

“Goodbye, Max,” you snip, turning to go back to the comfort of your apartment, when that gnawing southern upbringing decides to make a re-emergence once more, and you remember your manners.

With a sigh, you turn to give him one last glance, your visage softening in its regard. “Thank you, by the way. For the drink.” And you mean it, even if it’s likely all melted and weeping on the table by now.

You almost think you see his own features grow a shade softer, and before you can dwell on it, he’s suddenly shifting back into your space.

Your initial instinct is to flinch, to shove him away, because after Dave and him in a single day, your poor fucked out pussy can’t handle anymore punishment.

But he doesn’t grope or manhandle you. Max’s arms grapple you into a snug embrace, his hot breath fanning over your neck. It’s uncharacteristically soft for Max to show this level of affection and you would hug him back if he wasn’t clamping your arms to your sides.

“Thank you,” he whispers, keeping you ensnared for a few lingering moments before releasing you and taking a step back.

“Yeah… no problem,” you offer awkwardly, because what else do you say to that? “I’ll see you around. I work tomorrow, opening to two.”

Max nods, his usual crooked smirk making a reappearance. “See you then.”

“And hey?”

“Yeah?”

“Be nice to my coworkers. It’s the least you could do,” you remind him.

His smirk doesn’t fade, tongue swabbing the inside of his cheek. “I’ll do my best.”

You snort and shake your head, watching as he disappears down the stairwell.

——

After Max leaves, you spend the remainder of the afternoon and evening wallowing around your apartment, watching bad reality television and trying not to think about… well, anything, pouring yourself some vodka with whatever mixers you can scrounge up until your brain mellows to a welcome numbness.

You order take out for dinner because, fuck saving money at this point. Proceeding the earlier conversation with your mom, you aren’t even sure why you’re trying to get back to Texas anymore.

It’s far easier having several states between you, even if you do miss your grandmother and have a wicked hankering for some barbecue right about now.

You check Facebook periodically anyway, not at all surprised to see your mother asking for prayers and attention from all the faceless online entities because she did not receive the validation she sought from you.

You grumble and toss your phone down every time you read a new ‘woe is me’ comment from your mother and you wonder why you’re even torturing yourself like this.

Belly full of chow mein, you settle down into your bed for the remainder of the evening to distract yourself with some mind numbing television to go along with the buzz you’re feeling.

When your phone lights up, you sigh in indignation, expecting a text from your mother as you swipe open to the notifications.

Much to your delight, it isn’t your mother, and you let out the breath you realize you’ve been holding in.

Dave: Hey, you.

You smile. Relief washes over you as heat simultaneously slithers its way up your spine.

Dave decides to change to split screen, one side with the recorded footage and the other side with the current feed, and he watches as you smile at your phone, steadily stroking himself, his phone vibrating your response a few seconds later.

You: Hey, you. 😜

You: I was beginning to wonder if you’d made it to VA

Dave: Yeah. Long day.

Dave: You made it worth it, though.

You: Doubt that

That makes him chuckle. He knows you know that to not be true.

He continues to stare at you, your gaze glued to your phone as you await his reply. You’re sitting up in bed now, back against the wall, wearing a different but equally revealing top than the thin camisole you had on earlier, blanket pooling in your lap.

The veins in his dick pulse when he ponders if you’re wearing any pants under the covers, and his eyes flick back to the recording of Max eating you out, a soft, breathy moan escaping his lips. The pleasure on your face is telling.

Dave: You do, huh?

Dave: Maybe I should show you, then.

You bite your lip at his response, quickly punching in your reply and hitting send.

You: Aren’t you supposed to be spending time with your kids?

Dave: they’re in bed. It’s late.

His head lifts from the monitor momentarily—only as long as necessary—taking his headphones off to listen for any sounds of wakefulness from the bedroom. When he finds there is none, he turns his attention back to you, freeing himself from his sweats, tugging them down to his knees.

He quickly snaps and sends a photo of his rigid cock, colored a deep shade of mauve at the head, hand fisted at the base, dark curls peeking out from underneath his palm.

You swallow, your walls tightening and mouth watering at the mere sight of it, breath puffing softly past your lips. And you’re almost surprised how turned on you still are, despite the events of the past two days.

Max is just a phone call away, you tell yourself, quickly squashing that thought right out of your brain just as quickly as it arrives. You’d hate to risk having him spend the night with you. Besides, you should probably give yourself a break.

You: Jesus, Dave.

Dave: All for you, baby

Dave: This is what you do to me. I was hard almost the entire way here.

Dave: What are you doing?

You snicker through your nose at the sudden shift in conversation, deciding to play along anyway. Going back to the picture every so often to admire it.

You: Watching TV

Dave: Anything good?

You: Just reruns of 1,000 Lb. Sisters. It’s a good show, you should watch it

Dave: I would watch it with you if I was there.

Dave: if I could keep my hands off of you

Dave: Touch yourself.

You laugh when the conversation takes yet another rapid turn, but you barely give it a second thought the moment you feel your clit throb with need, firing off a response to Dave before breaching the band of your panties with your fingers.

You: Yes sir

Dave: good girl

Dave drags his tongue along his plump lower lip when he sees your hand disappear beneath the covers, his eyes darkening with lust.

Dave: show me

You throw the blanket back and he’s pleased as punch to see you’re only wearing panties. He watches intently as you shuck them off and toss them to the floor.

You open the camera app on your phone and begin recording, doing your best to get the shot right but it’s difficult to see much from your perspective. You take the video anyway.

Breathing softly, you slide two fingers between your folds and sink them into your entrance as far as you can manage, which isn’t enough and will never be enough compared to Dave or Max, before dragging them back out again to display the shiny coating of arousal on your digits for the camera.

You save the video and send it to Dave immediately.

Dave: Fuck

Dave: Can you get a different angle? I need to see it

He almost tells you to prop your phone up on the window sill by the bed, but he doesn’t want to risk you somehow finding out he’s watching you. It’s possible you would think nothing of it, since he has seen the inside of your apartment now, but he’d prefer not to take the chance.

You frown and stop touching yourself, looking around the room in consideration before scooting on your knees over to the window to prop the phone against the pane of glass.

You hit record and maneuver into position, spreading, lifting your eyes to make sure everything is in frame. Shockingly, it is, and this new angle is so visual and obscene that even your OB/GYN would be impressed.

You record a short video of your fingers circling your clit, letting out a soft, salacious moan.

You still feel very much used from Dave and Max in a single day, but you make sure to keep your own touches as light as possible.

You record about ten seconds of yourself and send it to Dave.

Dave: Fuck

Dave: Need to fuck that little pussy full of me

Dave: We’re getting you an IUD and I’m paying for it

Dave: Fuck

His eyes move back to the side with you and Max, at which point you’re cumming on Max’s face, and Dave’s balls tighten with longing. He remembers exactly how you taste when you hit your high, and his mouth waters in remembrance.

Any jealousy he feels is immediately snuffed out by how much he wants you. How much he needs you.

You: I can pay for it

You: [video]

He’s so distracted by watching Max making you cum, his hand pumping himself more rapidly, that he doesn’t realize you were recording again. Your fingers swirl your bud faster, your hips twitching and coming up from the mattress.

Dave: Jesus

Dave: It will be well worth the money to see my cum dripping out of that tight little hole

You: such things you say, Dave

He smirks.

Dave: use a toy

You: How do you know I have one?

Dave: dirty fucking sluts like you always have toys

Dave: do what I say

Arousal floods your core when Dave’s true colors bleed through, even over text. You can practically see his brow pulling into a hard, dark line; see the way his lips curve ever so slightly into a sadistic and hungry smirk.

You don’t dawdle, leaning crossways over your bed to retrieve your favorite toy from your bedside drawer — you have a few accumulated from your time with Jonathan, since he never got you off — a vibrator with a curve at the end for optimal g-spot stimulation.

You: yes sir

You: [video]

You: is this sufficient

Dave receives a video of you clicking on the toy and sliding it teasingly along your slick and swollen labia, pausing periodically at your clit, your moans quiet yet lewd. All for him.

Dave: fuck. Gonna have to fuck you with the toy in you like that

You: I look forward to it sir

Your words send a rush of heat through Dave as his vision subconsciously slips back over to the side with you and Max, who’s now railing into you from behind like a jack hammer, and he damn near cums on that image alone.

He wanted to kill Max for how he had treated you. But now, watching Max bring you pleasure, and how much you appear to be enjoying it, he can’t stop his thoughts from wandering. Would you let both men inside you at the same time? Would you like it?

Would Max take orders from him like a good boy?

That last thought admittedly gives Dave pause and he shakes it from his mind. He had done things in the military, sure, most of the men had, missing their wives and girlfriends. But that was a side of him he hadn’t acknowledged in years, and he shoves it down to the furthest recesses of his brain, returning his focus to you.

Dave: good girl. Now put in and make yourself cum for me

You slide the toy past your opening with little effort, and you’re so worked up it takes almost no time at all before you’re chanting his name. Dave watches, transfixed, pupils dilated and jaw slack, eyes drifting back and forth between the two images on the screen, a cry departing your lips as you reach peak.

You: [video]

You: Mmm wish it was you making me cum though

Almost like serendipity, you cum on the recorded footage at almost the exact same moment as he witnesses it in real time. He can’t hold himself back any longer, and he barely has time to pull his phone back out to record before he’s shooting like a geyser all over his hand and lower abdomen, thick and milky spend dribbling down the backs of his knuckles.

Dave: Fuck

Dave: [video]

Dave: wish this was all over your fucking face instead

You sigh and fall back, panting, opening the last text with a satisfied grin painting your lips as you watch Dave spill down his hand.

You: Rather it inside of me

You place the phone down and crawl off the bed to go clean yourself and your toy in the bathroom, smiling to yourself.

Several states away, Dave heads to the bathroom in his hotel suite to do the same.

But as the high starts to dissipate, your trepidation inexplicably returns, twisting like a knife in your gut. You like Dave. Probably a little too much. And you shouldn’t. Because the day will come when he hurts you, just like Jonathan did.

You do your best to swallow down your doubt and finish cleaning yourself up, traipsing back into the main room to retrieve your panties and slip them back on.

A new text message lights up your phone.

Dave: Soon.

Dave: Can I call you?

Dave sees you sigh and chew at your lip, one of your hands coming up to the back of your neck. You seem unsure.

Your anxiety triggers his own, making him worry if he’s moving too quickly for you.

You: Sure

Now clad only in his sweats, Dave takes in a prolonged breath, hitting the call button. It rings twice before you answer.

“Hi,” you answer quietly.

“Hi,” Dave returns and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Thank you for that. I needed it after today…”

He switches off the recorded footage and goes back to watching just you. You.

You’ve already moved back under the covers, snuggling up with your back facing the window, one arm drawn up under your chin.

“You’re welcome,” you reply after a beat. “I needed it too.”

Oddly enough, you did, despite how many times you’ve already cum today, which was a welcome end to a stressful day.

That makes Dave grin, and he feels a pang of want as he wishes he were there to hold you in his arms, to feel your back pressed up against his chest.

“I miss you,” he confesses with a soft, nervous chuckle. His change in demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by you — a man of dual natures, an enigma. “Wish you were here.”

He chastises himself silently for saying too much, but it’s true.

You swallow down the coiling anxiety you feel.

“Yeah. That would be great,” you proffer gently. You change the subject as seamlessly as you can. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

He notices, but doesn’t point it out. “Taking the girls to the aquarium.”

You actually do soften at that. You always loved visiting the aquarium as a kid.

“Oh, how fun! I love aquariums. I know there’s one here… I’ve never been.”

“I’ll take you sometime,” Dave suggests. “We’ll make it a date.”

Your skin heats and you take your welling emotions and stamp them down as deep as you can. “Yeah.”

“What is your favorite marine animal?” Dave randomly asks.

“What, why?”

“Curious.”

You think it over for a moment. “Sharks,” you reply, “I like sharks.”

You hear him chuckle. “Figured you for more of a sea otter type.”

“Sea otters? Do explain, Dave.”

Although you can’t see it, he shrugs. He’s still watching you, fixated on the way your fingers fidget with the covers.

“Women usually like the cute sea animals. And sea otters are cute,” he says.

“Because I’m a woman, I’m not allowed to like things that aren’t, by your definition, ‘cute’? That’s sort of sexist, don’t you think?”

He lets out a quiet laugh. “You’re right. My bad.”

“Your bad? Well, what is your favorite sea animal, then?” you press.

“… Sea otters,” Dave answers without any additional thought, and you can’t control the burst of laughter that erupts from you. It makes his heart vibrate with affection hearing the joy in your voice and watching the way your nose crinkles when you smile.

“Oh, fuck off!” you tease, and he can’t help but laugh along with you.

“You need to go to bed,” you tell him as soon as the laughter dies down.

“What if I’d rather stay up all night talking to you?” he counters.

“Then I imagine tomorrow will really suck,” you quip back.

“It will be worth it.”

“Dave,” you begin in a more earnest tone, “I have work in the morning. Early. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

Talk…masturbate mutually. Either way.

Your buzz is starting to wear off. Dave sees you rub at your eyes as you reach for your cigarette pack with the other, lighting it up and taking a long drag.

He knows you’re guarded and he supposes he understands why. He hopes you’ll let your walls down sooner than later.

“Okay,” he sighs in resignation. “But I’ll be thinking about you all day tomorrow.”

You tap the growing head of ash against the edge of the empty plant tray you’ve been using as a makeshift ash tray.

“Me too. Goodnight. Have fun tomorrow, alright?”

“Yeah. I’ll try,” Dave replies honestly, and you exchange your goodbyes before hanging up.

He continues to watch you. And not just until you’ve finished your cigarette or gotten out of bed to — presumably — have one final pee.

He watches you plug up your phone and set your alarm. He even watches you as you curl into a fetal position, clutching one of your extra pillows against your torso, and he wishes it was him instead.

Soon, he reminds himself.

He doesn’t stop watching until he’s sure you’re completely asleep. And even then he lingers, only stopping when one of the girls — his youngest, Alice — rouses from sleep in absolute hysterics, loud enough to wake the dead. Something she had started doing around the start of the divorce process.

He sighs, slipping back into dad mode, swiping a hand over his sleep weary face as he shuts his laptop down and heads to the bedroom.

——

Like clockwork, Max is at The Beanery around 7:30 AM for his morning caffeine fix.

You’re grateful that it’s slow and that Audrey and Vincent are in the back room folding boxes and chattering away about god only knows what. Almost like you’d planned it that way. Like you gave them each monotonous side work on purpose.

You knew Audrey was working today and you wanted to stave off the inevitability of admission that you don’t really have the power to ban Max as long as you could. Or resist him, for that matter.

You’re also grateful that Audrey was able to hide your hickies and bruises using the expensive foundation she brought to work just for you, at your insistence, with the incentive that she could leave two hours early with pay today. A decision that would probably bite you in the ass later.

You didn’t tell her who or what they were from and she didn’t ask.

You receive a text from Dave mere moments before the chimes hanging over the door signal Max’s arrival, causing your blood to heat and your skin to pebble.

It’s an image of Dave in a steamy bathroom, fully nude, hand curled around the base of his stiffened cock, with the caption: Wish you were here

You respond with a very underwhelming selfie in your work cap and apron, to which he replies almost immediately: You’re fucking adorable

You can’t help the heat that crawls up your cheeks.

You slip your phone back into your apron and start cleaning the espresso machine when Max traipses in, strolling up to the counter like he owns the place.

Or like he owns you, more like it.

“Morning,” you greet, and the remaining traces of your flustered state swell once again the moment you see Max in his primped and tailored three piece, donning a flashy paisley red tie. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him not adorned in a suit, aside from when he’s naked.

“Your usual?” you query, starting on his Americano before he even has a chance to respond.

“Morning,” Max parrots, smirking as his eyes bore into you. “And add whatever you want for yourself, sweetheart.”

He’s certainly starting off early today, isn’t he?

“That isn’t necessary,” you say.

“It wasn’t a suggestion,” he tuts and slams his card down in front of you. When you go to retrieve it, he reaches out to grip your wrist gently, and your eyes snap up to meet his.

He can see the affect he’s already having on you just by proximity alone, his cock already growing rigid in his pants.

“Thanks,” you squeak out and ring up Max’s drink and yours with your free hand, running the card and handing it back to him.

“Good girl,” he purrs in a rich timbre. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night.”

And he really couldn’t. He doesn’t oft have a habit of bringing women to his place, opting for theirs or someplace else instead, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you in his bed, waking up next to him that morning so he could make you sing his praises first thing.

“Let me get your drink…” you tell him, attempting to take a step away, but his grip on your wrist holds true, tightening infinitesimally, thumb circling your pulse point.

Max leans forward, a single elbow rested on the countertop. “Or,” he suggests, his voice low and barely an octave above a whisper, “you can meet me in the bathroom in two minutes.”

His eyes flash and he releases you, shooting you a stilted grin before heading to the small bathroom in the corner.

At first, all you can do is gape in disbelief, your jaw slack. Did Max Phillips really just come into your place of business and ask you to meet him in the bathroom?

You turn to listen to the sounds coming from the back room; Audrey and Vincent seem to be prattling on about something, oblivious.

You sigh and resign yourself to curiosity, to self torture, checking to see that the coast is clear.

“Hey, Vince, listen for the front, please. I… I’ll be right back,” you call out and take in another prolonged breath.

“10-4, dinosaur!” Vince chimes back and you roll your eyes, rounding the corner of the counter and heading over to the bathroom.

As you approach, the door swings open and Max pulls you inside before you can even reach for the handle.

He barely gives you time to react before he’s locking the door and crowding into you, pushing you back against the wall and pinning you as his hips grind your thigh hard. He starts to grab at you, everywhere, pawing at your clothes, your body. His mouth finds your neck and when his teeth start to bear down, you protest weakly.

He doesn’t listen; or maybe he’s just so overwhelmed with his desire to be inside of you that he’s lost any semblance of composure.

It doesn’t take you long to realize you don’t want to do this here. Not at work and not when your body needs a break, still so sore and overwrought from the last couple of days, and you attempt to push him away. He only pushes right back, unwilling to hear your pleas, because he thinks it’s what you would want.

“Max,” you groan and you feel your resolve slipping although you shouldn’t, “not here.”

“Come on baby,” Max growls, gently nipping at your earlobe, “let me inside of you.”

He pins your arms above your head at the wrists with one of his hands while the other begins to undo your belt, moving swiftly, his breathing desperate and heady.

He hasn’t been able to get you out of his mind for two whole days and pining over a woman isn’t something Max Phillips does.

Your resolve is rapidly waning and just about gone, arousal welling up within you. But with your last remaining shred of dignity, you’re able to shove him away and grit out, “Max, lavender,” your safe word.

Part of you expects to be ignored regardless, as Max has a habit of doing whatever the fuck he wants, and what you suspect to be very few morals. To your surprise, however, he does stop.

He releases you and takes a tentative step back, lips parted, hurt and uncertainty twisting his features. With nothing to say, at least for a few brief seconds.

His eyes meet yours and he lifts his hands in surrender, a frown creasing his brows. “Fine. That’s fine. I just figured since you came in here…”

“Max, shut up,” you say as you step towards him and you’re the one undoing his belt this time, positioning him with his back to the sink. “I just didn’t wanna— I mean, I want a break, but let me just… do this instead,” you further explain as you successfully get everything undone, sinking to your knees in front of him.

Understanding settles over Max and he nods, eyes growing a shade darker as he watches you finagle his slacks and boxers down, hardening cock springing free after a moment.

Of course none of the tile on the floor is even, so you have to adjust slightly to prevent the edges from digging into your knees and make yourself more comfortable, your hands sliding down Max’s thighs as you look up at him through your lashes.

He gently places a palm atop your head, fingers curling into your hair. “That’s it, doll. Be my good girl, now.”

He has to stifle the loud moan that reverberates from his lungs as you spit directly onto his shaft and grip him in your fist to begin slowly jacking him off, swiping the flat of your tongue up his length, his entire body vibrating.

You pause at the head, circling it, lapping at the pearl of precum that collects at the slit. He grasps your hair with a firmer hold, tugging at the roots.

“Don’t be a… fucking tease… or I’ll fuck you anyway,” he warns and in spite of yourself, you moan, and almost break.

You grin to yourself and take him deeper into your mouth, still holding him steady with one hand at the base as you adjust to his size, slowly pistoning your head forward and back.

“That’s it. Ohhh yes, good girl, sweetheart, good girl,” Max pants softly.

You slide your tongue along the underside of his dick, pausing at the fold of skin at the head as you rock forward, causing his hips to shudder and you eventually bottom out.

He grunts and grips the back of your neck, holding you flush against his groin, the dark and manicured thatch of hair tickling at your nose.

You can smell and taste the soap he uses; woodsy and light, nothing over the top nor underwhelming, but he’s as clean and well groomed as you would expect a pretentious man like Max to be.

He releases you when your eyes start to water and you murmur a noise of protest, allowing you to take a short break for air.

“Come now, darling, you can do better than that,” he notes with a small pout.

You nod in agreement and wet your lips, placing your hands on his hips as you take him back into your mouth and his head rolls back with a sigh, hands going to either side of your face.

You bottom out again and manage to hold better this time, hollowing out your cheek bones and breathing through your nostrils, relaxing your jaw and throat as you do so.

“Good girl… good… fucking girl,” he praises, nary louder than a whisper, running his fingertips along your scalp.

You tremble at the attention, moaning as you taste more precum dribbling onto your tongue, bobbing your head faster—as fast as you can—to get the job done as expeditiously as possible.

He groans and grasps your cheeks tighter, stilling your movements, holding you exactly where he wants you, and without any prior warning, starts rutting into your mouth.

“That’s right, that’s right… you can take it, can’t you? You can take it,” he growls, and there’s little else you can do but let him use your body as he wishes.

You can get the job done quickly but Max can get it done faster, knowing you’re on a time crunch.

You slacken your muscles as much as you can, as much as your body will allow, breathing through your nose and trying not to gag, especially considering you can feel and hear him nearing his release.

He starts to sputter what mostly sounds like nonsense words to you, gripping your cheeks and neck tightly in his large hands, rutting into your mouth with wreckless abandon and all you can do is sit there with the uneven tile digging into your tender knees and take it, letting go of his thighs to find purchase on the vanity behind him.

Finally, his hips begin to catch and then eventually seize, and with a low, guttural growl he spills hot and thick into your mouth, and you accept everything he has to offer you, swallowing it all with ease.

“Good girl… good girl…” he puffs, chanting your name softly on his tongue.

You milk him of every last feasible drop and a line of spittle connects you as you pull away, bringing your hand up to swipe at your mouth and breaking the string in the process.

He’s still panting as he helps you to your feet; you move to step to the sink so you can clean your face and rinse out your mouth. Without warning, Max grabs you once more, different than only a moment ago, ensnaring you in another tight hug and pushing you against the wall.

“Max… hey—“

He hasn’t even pulled his pants up yet. He squeezes you, lips ghosting over your skin as he presses his nose to the soft space between your neck and skull, inhaling your scent. And just… holds you like that, in an embrace, not at all dissimilar to yesterday.

“Thank you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, and you’re once again struck with his sporadic shift in demeanor.

“Uhh… you’re welcome,” you reply and he breaks the hug, a single hand coming up to cradle your jaw, thumb dragging your bottom lip as he stares at it, contemplative and fixated.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to return the favor?” Max asks.

“Um… no… I need to clean up and get back out there,” you explain, causing his hand to drop from your face.

“Yeah. Yeah, right,” he says, almost appearing crestfallen — almost — as he tucks himself and his shirt back into his work slacks, buckling his belt and giving himself a cursory once over in the mirror.

You turn away and ignore him as you smooth down your clothes, splash some water over your face and rinse out your mouth and when you’ve determined you don’t look super fucked out, you confirm with Max that you’re each composed enough, giving him one last glance as you step out.

You feel fingertips against the small of your back, almost like he wants one last point of contact with you before you have to go back to the real world.

And what you both step into is a sea of chaos, the lobby now bustling with people needing their various morning addictions, and you cast Audrey and Vincent an apologetic glance as you rush over to assist them.

God, you really need a cigarette and a stiff drink.

They pass each other a look when they see you and Max coming out of the bathroom together and you inwardly sigh because you had hoped you could keep all of this on the down low. Well, that plan was pretty much out the window now. And there was no saving it.

Max stands to one side and waits patiently as you rush through making his drink, passing it to him when you’re done and your skin burning as you feel his gaze dwelling on you one last time before he dips out for the day.

The rush stays steady for about an hour and you’re actually kind of thankful for it, as it helps to keep your focus off of everything that’s happened recently.

——

You’re walking home when your phone buzzes with a new text.

You take in a breath and fish your phone from your purse, hoping it isn’t your mother. Wishing it isn’t her. She had already texted you earlier that day to let you know Garrett was out of jail, no thanks to you, and you made a point of ignoring it.

You expect another dramatic text from your mother as you’re opening your phone, but you’re relieved to see it’s from Dave this time, thank god.

You open the text to see an image of Dave crouched down in front of the jaws of a rather large shark, Alice perched on his knee and Mollie standing to one side, all three of them smiling for the camera. You try not to let the sweetness and normalcy of it affect you, and you can hardly believe that this is the same man who had practically broke you and stitched you back together multiple times.

You: looks fun

A few minutes later you receive more texts, popping up as you get close to your apartment’s wifi. The first is a video of the girls in front of a shark tank, babbling at a nurse shark, and then a second video of a reef shark swimming overhead in a tunnel, with the caption: sharks for you

You: Cool. I love them! See any sea otters?

Dave: no 🙁 But we saw penguins! 😍

You cover your mouth with your hand as you snicker at his reply, typing in a quick response.

You: Penguins? How feminine.

Dave: Okay smartass

You: Just dishing out some of what you were serving last night, Dave

Dave: Watch it, sweetheart, or you’ll really see what I can dish out when I get home

You: Promise? 😜

As you enter your apartment building and Dave texts back with I would love nothing more, you try to keep reminding yourself you aren’t falling for him.

——

With the girls dropped off safely with Carol, at the house which is still in his name, that he still pays for, Dave shoots you a quick text before pulling away.

Dave: I’ll be back in town in a day or two. I have a work thing

He fishes out a burner phone and punches in the address for your ex, Jonathan, who lives on Long Island. Which is good — perfect, really — as it’s en route back to Boston. A quick rendezvous there to take him out and then straight home. Or what he could consider his home, nowadays.

You make it feel like home to him.

The hit shouldn’t take long. It was an ideal situation, if he was being honest. The woman Jonathan had left you for had pulled the same trick on him as he had on you, leaving him high and dry after he had up and moved states, and now he lived alone in a small garage apartment at the back of a property that was flanked on all sides by woods.

Perfect.

He would be arriving long after nightfall, and he would bide his time in the woods until it was late enough to slip in and out undetected.

Dave did not care that Jonathan really wasn’t a bad person, aside from being the asshole who broke your heart. He couldn’t give two shits, really. He only wanted to take retribution for Jonathan’s slights against you, on your behalf, because you were too kind and gentle to do it yourself.

As he pulls onto the highway to begin his journey north, he can’t get your beautiful face out of his mind.

——

It turns out Jonathan is a night owl.

Dave has been in the trees at the perimeter of the property for hours. A single window at the back of the apartment shines a pale yellow, denoting lingering wakefulness from his mark. It’s the only available illumination aside from a lone street lamp near the front of the property.

And aside from his phone. He’s been watching you off and on all night, to pass the time. You’re alone, and have been for days now. You haven’t had Max — or anyone else for that matter — in your bed since the last encounter, which means you stopped seeing Max entirely or you had simply taken to fucking elsewhere. Max’s apartment?

He isn’t sure which, yet.

Currently, Jonathan is getting stoned and painting. Dave is far from being an art expert, but even from his vantage he can see the strokes on the canvas are broad and messy; calling it abstract would be a stretch. Infantile, maybe. He couldn’t have been the artist of the painting you have hanging in your apartment—the style and technique just wasn’t right.

He wonders, not for the first time, if you were a gifted artist as well as being a gifted writer.

Jonathan orders a pizza at 9:09 PM and it’s delivered at exactly 10:00 PM. He spends an hour eating, his motor skills slowed due to being so fried, attempting to masturbate after that — much to Dave’s abject disgust — gives up, and goes back to painting.

Dave can feel his patience growing thinner by the second. You’ve already retired to bed so he no longer has anything to occupy his mind as he waits. He would prefer to strike while Jonathan is sleeping, but it’s either now or never; anything close to daybreak would be too risky.

Given up on being discreet, he slinks like a cat out of the woods at around 12:30 AM, head on a constant swivel, gun holstered at his hip in case he needs it. He’s hoping he doesn’t.

He’s opted for the more difficult to trace route as the actual means of execution — a syringe with 100mg of potassium chloride, the same drug used in prisons — tucked away neatly in the pocket of his black hoodie.

The nearer Dave draws to the apartment, the louder the indie rock music Jonathan is blaring becomes, a band Dave doesn’t recognize. That’s a good thing, though, it will work in his favor when he picks the lock at the front of the building, arguably the riskiest part of this entire mission, due to its proximity to the street.

He reaches the second story landing and pulls his lock picking kit from said hoodie, adjusting the black beanie away from his eyes as he finds the right tools. He manipulates them into the lock, ear pressed to the thin door so he can better hear what he’s doing.

The music continues, and so far as Dave can tell, he hasn’t been detected.

He pops the lock within minutes and the door slowly shimmies open, his hand going to his hip on instinct as he pushes the door the rest of the way with the toe of his boot.

He’s met with a short entryway that veers off to a dimly lit living room. So far, Jonathan hasn’t noticed him. He’s on another planet entirely—exactly where Dave wants him. Thank god for brain altering substances.

Dave stalks forward and soon arrives at the opening of the main living space which is littered with various articles of trash and other clutter, skillfully dodging as much as he can so as to not alert his presence, or give detectives anything to go on.

What he finds is Jonathan hunched in front of a canvas, paintbrush perched between nimble fingers, painting god knows what, because Dave sure can’t tell, his back facing him. The sheer abundance of luck at his mark being in such a vulnerable and unawares position is so goddamn sexy Dave can hardly keep his dick in check at the presentation.

But even with Jonathan being as preoccupied as he is, it would be imprudent to dawdle, so he doesn’t.

He quickly closes the space between the two of them, one arm coiling like a large python around Jonathan’s throat and the other disabling his limbs.

Jonathan looses a low bellow, most of which is drowned out by the music and the reduced flow of oxygen to his lungs, nearly knocking over the easel the canvas sits on in his rush of panic, but thankfully does not. In Dave’s experience working cases for the CIA, signs of struggle are often harder to hide than one would think.

He attempts to fight back, body trying to twist away, but Dave is larger, stronger and more experienced in disarming than Jonathan is in fighting…well, anything…so it isn’t as difficult as Dave had feared it would be.

It isn’t exactly a cake walk either, and Dave knows he needs to get him to the ground as soon as possible to fully disable him, arm tightening around Jonathan’s throat as he wrestles the smaller man to the floor. He puts Jonathan in a sleeper hold, adding a second arm for leverage and bringing a leg up to ensnare his lower half.

“Just let it happen. Let it happen and it will be easier,” Dave grits against the shell of his ear. “Don’t fight me.”

He doesn’t listen, of course, hellbent on breaking the grapple, and failing. That pesky self preservation always did aggravate Dave as much as it excited him.

Jonathan’s vision starts to blot away, music fading to a low and persistent hum, his body finally giving in to the asphyxiation now that the adrenaline was a fleeting thing.

This is exactly what Dave needed to happen, and as he feels Jonathan’s body growing slack in his clutches, he removes the syringe from his pocket, biting the lid off and grasping it between his teeth as he readies the needle.

It isn’t hard to find a vein due to Jonathan’s heightened sense of agitation and panic, inserting the needle into the soft flesh of his neck and sinking the plunger before he can struggle away, flooding his bloodstream with the full dose of potassium chloride.

Within moments, attempts to free himself devolve to little more than faint body tremors, and Dave doesn’t release him until his body has fallen completely motionless and limp in his arms.

He checks Jonathan’s pulse a moment later and when he’s satisfied he’s gone, he drags the corpse to the recliner on the opposite end of the room, manipulating him into a position that makes it appear as if Jonathan succumbed to cardiac arrest.

Once done, he finds Jonathan’s cellphone and begins to thumb through the recent calls and text messages.

He finds you in there, as well as a string of messages to you begging your forgiveness and for your return, which have gone wholly unanswered by you. Dave smiles to himself. You must have blocked him after the breakup. Good.

He knows there’s a very real chance cops will question you regardless. But Dave decides to delete the messages and any other snippet of information he can find about you in Jonathan’s phone anyway, just to be safe.

As he repockets the empty syringe, he gives the room a final comb to ensure that not even a hair is out of place. When he determines everything is satisfactory, and that he hasn’t left behind any evidence or traces of DNA, he turns to make a hasty retreat.

He leaves the apartment exactly as he found it, making sure to lock the door behind him, leaving nothing out of place, no loose ends unraveled.

He jogs down the stairs and makes the mile long trek through the woods to return to where his car is parked, working up a sweat even with the cooler air but not at all concerned about it, pulling the beanie off and tossing it to the passenger floorboard when he finally makes it to the car.

Palming himself through his dark jeans, he pulls onto the road, with you being the only thing on his mind as he begins the arduous six hour journey home to see you. You.

And he can barely fucking wait.

——

Taglist: @ohheypedrito @kateispunk @awilderi @survivingandenduring @heavennumber2 @alwaysmicado @oberynslady @kellybelly1978 @cosmic-li @chronically-ghosted @morallyinept @annieispunk @xxjigglynatxx @daddy-dins-girl @onmysluttyknees @guelyury @gwendibleywrites @missladym1981 @anoverwhelmingdin @yorksgirl @shotgun-shelby

Please let me know if I forgot you, it wasn’t intentional 🥺

💜💜💜

#pedro pascal #writing #fanfic #smut #author #romance #pedro fanfic #dark romance #max phillips #dave york

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

3 Pink Roses Mean, "I Love You"

- Nanami Kento (ch9)

synopsis: a confession from Nanami sweeps out. Nobara, being the best assistant ever, helps you pursue a new project, and Nanami comes home late one night to reassure you. A romantic date is planned where feelings blossom. Gojo is also a nosy blob.

series masterlist

For as long as he could remember, Nanami Kento had always kept his emotions under check. Never in his life had he had to control his words, except in the case of Gojo where he really, and his therapist agrees, really exhausts his limits.

The businessman keeps his emotions as generalized as he can, relying on facts rather than emotion, it's what you have to do when you're in the corporate world. The world will believe facts over sentiments any day, it's what you can prove on paper what matters. So it became a habit for him. Ever since his university years, his job managed to solidify those beliefs. Mindlessly stimulate his brain with numbers and graphs until he's just too tired to feel at the end of the day.

Too tired to function.

Two days after your progressive 'movie' night with Nanami, he wakes up earlier than usual, assuring to call out from work for a few hours. He could never not take the day off, wouldn't allow himself.

“So, Nanami, I heard you went on vacation. How did that go?” The woman in front of him smiles, resting her bullet point pen against the spine of her notebook. She doesn't write at this moment, and she knows Nanami is observing if whether or not she'll write this conversation down.

"It went well," he replies, noticing her strands of hair are a darker shade than Gojo's. "I... I went to Boston, with my partner."

“A partner?” Her eyebrows raise in surprise, “You never mentioned you were seeing someone. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” 

“How long have you been together? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Two months.”

Technically, it wasn’t a lie. They met in June and July was already here, so that did count as two months.

If you were stretching the truth. 

“What did the two of you do in Boston? My husband and I haven’t been to a red socks game in forever and the lobster at Neptune Oyster is to die for.” 

“We visited the Aquarium,” Nanami focuses on the patchwork of her coat, “and we took a boat tour as well.” 

“Sounds like the two of you are compatible.”

“What makes you say that, Doctor?”

“You strike me as a relaxed fellow, Nanami. I’m sure your partner is the same? Unless she’s more enthusiastic, of course.” she holds a knowing smile, “because I could see that working out.”

“She’s…" Nanami searches for the words, "smart, well intentioned, independent, compassionate...”

“Sounds like a determined woman if you ask me.” the professional points out with a short chuckle. “It also sounds like she’s someone special because I’ve never heard you talk so highly about anyone. Not like your co-worker,” she notices Nanami roll his eyes, making her bite back a smile.

“Has this partner positively affected your day-to-day life?” 

“She makes me look forward to coming back home,” he replies. 

“Oh, so the two of you live together?”

Nanami freezes, fuck. 

“We... uh… we made the decision to move in before Boston…”

“So is that like a honeymoon thing?” she asks, genuinely curious, “Because I know younger people like to skip the-”

“-It was just for fun,” he quickly clarifies, “the trip.” and the word fun rolls off his tongue with such foreignness that even he can feel a shift in the room.

A moment passes by before the woman smiles at him.

“Well, that’s good to hear.” she says before adjusting a photo of her with a young man, Nanami presumes, no older than 21 wearing a cap and gown. 

“That’s my son,” she grins, following Nanami's eyes, unashamed to show off her son, “Michael, 21. Graduated in Economics from NYU. I believe you were a student there as well?”

“Only for Law.”

“Oh, so you’re a Lawyer?”

“No." He shakes his head, "I dropped after my 2nd year.”

“Change of career?”

“More like change of life,” he answers dryly, “My… my father was a Lawyer, and he owned a law firm of his own…”

“Then... what happened?"

"I… I’m not a good person," Nanami's voice feels caught through his windpipes. It is only then when Nanami decides to take the covers off. He thinks that if he were ever to unveil such personal detail of his life, then everyone around him would flee, and see him as the bastard he deserves to be called.

"I’m not a good person because... I ruined someone’s life."

“This is a lovely painting," Nobara sighs in content, "tell me, where in the world did your boyfriend buy this for you?”

As you and your interior designer admired your painting from the living room, you couldn’t help but stiffen as she was not aware of any arrangements you had with Nanami, like the fact the two of you slept in separate bedrooms. Nobara had suggested you hang the painting in your ‘shared’ bedroom', but the idea was immediately thrown out the window along with placing the painting in the hallway. 

“It was at an auction in Boston,” the palm of your hand rests on the back of your neck, “I actually didn’t know it was an auction until Nanami and I reached the end of the art gallery.”

“Wow, so you’re telling me he had to bargain for this baby?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say-”

“-Did he compete with anyone? What was the starting bid?” You could see the apparent interest in her voice that made your cheeks warm. Nobara’s passion for art and design peeked through the cracks of her voice, dying for an answer. 

“It was a starting bid of $12,500 and there was just one bidder apart from him.”

“How much did he pay for it?” she asked. 

“$25,000 dollars.” 

The realization of your confession didn’t sink until after Nobara’s widened eyes. You lucky girl! No wonder why you were so quiet and against putting this baby in your bedroom! You want your guests to see this work! 

Nobara’s hands were freshly moisturized that you could see the glistening lotion through the sun’s rays hitting her skin. The large windows to your shared apartment were expansive, granting you and anyone who stepped foot into your home an impressive view of San Francisco. Large buildings, primarily from tech-related businesses to the view of the Golden Gate Bridge itself. If you tilted your head a little more to the right, you could see the full bridge, but you stood place as you heard Nobara’s words of excitement for you. 

“I can’t believe this marks the end of our project, I was really hoping to do more, but-”

“-wait,” you stop her, “maybe there is. I’ve been wanting to do something, but I’d like your word on it. C-can I take you upstairs? To the rooftop, that is?”

That day, you learned that it was possible to impress Nobara Kugisaki with your words, allowing her into your home was already a delight for her, so you would only hope she would accept your idea as you took her to the rooftop of the building.

“It’s a bit dusty up here,” you admit, “who knows when the last time anyone came up here was, but can we fix this? Maybe add a small furniture piece or even fairy lights?”

“We can do that,” Nobara softly kicked the leg of one of the abandoned plastic chairs with the point of her boot. She turned to you. 

“By when do you want this complete?”

“Before the 4th of July.”

“That’s possible...” she contemplates, “...but I do want one thing.” 

Your eyes widen at her first ever request, “what is it?”

"Take a picture with Nanami outside," she smiles. "I'll check when the best hour for firework sightings is, but I'm pretty sure this rooftop has one of the best views in San Franciso." She suggests, possibly reading your mind, "Plan a picnic with him out here, get all romantic, and enjoy yourself. That's all I want to see- a happy couple in love."

Her words make you blush, filling your heart with hope, and maybe something more. This idea could work. You could do something special for Nanami, make his day worth something, and fulfill your obvious role as his fake girlfriend. But were you taking your role too seriously? You could care less, focusing instead on the details for Saturday. Hopeful for a successful... date?

"A little birdie told me someone's turning a year older todayy," Gojo's words echoed as Nanami worked in his desk, arriving to his desk, Satoru plops down a party hat, a few decorative birthday accessories that were probably way too much, and a birthday candle- the kind that exaggeratingly lights up like a firework.

A few days after Nanami's appointment, he had been extra cordial around you. And as expected, he was not home during the hours you were up, either leaving too early or arriving too late. He was thankful for your understanding, and the lunch break messages would now appear every 2-3 days. Nanami figured you were either giving him the space he needed, or you were too busy to message. Either way, he was grateful no one had made a big deal about this as much.

"So tell me," Gojo leans forward and rests his elbows on top of Nanami's paperwork, "What will Nanami Kento do tonight? Does he have a date? Is he seeing his girlfriend?"

Knowing he was striking a chord, Nanami grunts, giving him a displeased look until he freezes, noting the small loaf of banana bread he would frequent from his favorite bakery. His shoulders visibly relaxed. "How did you know."

"It's easy to figure out your birthday, also Facebook has these crazy reminders- you should try them out. The other day I forgot it was my Grandma's birthday and that website came in clut-"

"-I didn't need to know all of that information," Nanami says, then sighs, "but... thank you."

Astonished by his oddly accepting demeanor, Satoru's eyes widen. "Wait- don't tell me- did something happen with your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfr-"

"-Side chick,"

"She's not a side chick."

"Okay... uh... friends with benefits?"

"I'm offended you think I might even consider that,"

"Okay, sheesh." Satoru huffs a piece of stray hair from his forehead, "Lady friend," he hears no complaint from Nanami and Satoru takes this as a silent victory. "I assume you guys are going out?"

"In this weekend?" Nanami questions, "it's a holiday, traffic is horrible, and I'd rather stay in."

"God," Satoru makes a noise of disgust, "I forgot how boring you can be. Let's hope Mrs. Lady-Friend makes something out of this," he says as he now stands, leaning against the desk. A long moment passes as he now eyes the banana loaf.

"Now give me a smile because I've got to take a photo with my best co-worker buddy,"

It isn't until past 11 when Nanami comes home exhausted that he notices you're still miraculously up. With a bun of messy hair, the laptop charger sitting under on the table gives him the impression that you've been here for some time. “You came.”

“I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“You didn’t.” you exhale, “I figured you’d show up.”

Nanami suddenly feels her stare at him harder, “Whose birthday was it?”

“Huh?" he asks before looking down at his chest, crap. He forgot to take off the decorations Satoru made him wear. Both a party hat and birthday shoulder sling decorate his upper body.

"A-a coworker of mine wanted to celebrate my birthday.” he awkwardly stands.

“It... it’s your birthday?” 

“It’s fine,” he regrets saying it was his birthday now, “I-I even forgot it was my own.”

“But I didn’t know,” she mutters to herself in self-disappointment. “I… I should have asked…”

“It’s fine, we never really got to that part in our relationship.”

“But I should have known,” she defends with a slight frown, “It’s… it’s my job to make this relationship feel easy-” He suddenly cuts you off.

“-This is not a job that should feel like it’s a burden. It’s not your fault. Blame me too, I don’t know your birthday either.”

“But you’re always so busy…”

Not for you, he wants to say. Instead, he takes a step forward, placing his hands at the sides of her arms in reassurance. This is what couples do, right?

“Don’t give yourself a headache over this.” He tells you, your breathing deepens when his hands massage her arms. Nanami notices you're uncertain by the way she turns to her feet.

“Look at me,” he softly says.

“None of this was under your control.”

Taking you by surprise, he presses your body against his, arms wrapping themselves around your waist, and your face buries itself on his chest. 

“I know," you breathe, " ’m sorry.” 

“Why on earth are you apologizing for?”

"I don't know... I feel like I failed you.''

"There's no way you failed me, sweet girl." he says, softly placing a gentle hand on the back of your head as you lean against him, eyes closed and mind too full to notice what was going on right now. "I should've discussed holidays and birthdays with you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to become so taxing for you." glancing down towards you he speaks once more. "How about we do something this weekend, hm? go out?"

"Mhm," you hum, feeling him pull you closer, not saying anything yet as you had plans and surprises in store for him. ''You came late today."

"I did,"

“Will you be working tomorrow?” a gleam of hope surpasses your eyes, “it’ll be the 4th.”

Nanami shrugs, “I fail to see how that’s a holiday worth celebrating given this country’s historical and current standing.” he pauses, face softening, “but I’ll make an exception. Did you have something planned already?”

“Sorta,” you bite the inside your cheek, “but it doesn’t have to 4th of July focused, we can just celebrate your birthday.”

“Okay,” he breathes, “so what did you have in mind?”

“Can’t tell you,” you smile, “it’s a surprise.”

He chuckles, "Of course. Well... I'll be off tomorrow at 4, will that work for you?"

"It sounds perfect."

"Very well," you can't really see if the corner of his lip tugs upwards in the dim light, but you imagine it does by the sound of his voice. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yes," you breathe, breathless almost. "Don't work too hard, okay?"

As he makes his way towards his room, he thinks, for you? this is nothing.

a/n: I am terrible with taglists. I promise I will redo them. let me know in the comments if you'd like to be tagged/removed.

tag list: @mishroses @musegonemad @sweetteez @kachowness @summerli-u @r0ses4ndlilies @justoutheretrynaread @citrusteaa @fic-for-readers

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#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #nanami #kento #kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami headcanons #nanamin #satoru #jjk nanami #jjk kento #jjk nanami kento #nanami x reader #sugar daddy nanami #sugar daddy kento #sugar daddy nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento

[2cmtall]

Diluc x y/n: a game of chess

Context: diluc works up the courage to invite you to a game if chess in his most favored room, and it's all well and good. . . With a little extra spice at the end.

A/n: this was written a while back that I've just never posted because I'm lazy, so here we go, I guess 😅. Also this was supposed to be a continuation of the voice line scenario writing but it sort of escalated into its own thing.

=================================================================

Diluc looked up from his desk, having just finished his stack of urgent mail and papers that needed reviewing. He noticed that you were nose deep in that book of yours that you've been interested in reading lately. Something about pirates, he thought as he searched within himself for what to do next. Usually he would take a quick break before moving on to his next task, but in this case, he feels a great need to spend more time with you. He tapped his gloved finger on the deep mahogany of his desk, racking his brain for something to do, but he grew more and more impatient the longer he gazed upon you reading.

It wasn't long before you decided to look up tentively from your book, having felt his intense eyes on you for what felt like forever. You couldn't even focus on the exciting scene playing out in your book, your mind racing as you stared hopelessly at the words. Was there an issue with me bring here? You thought. "Hey, Diluc, is there something wrong?"

With hearing your voice, he startled out of his trance and felt the full force of your questioning eyes on him. He really did enjoy looking into your eyes, loved seeing the multitude of shades when sunlight hits your irises, liked seeing how your facial expressions molded how your eyes looked to him, how your eyes-- "ummmmm. . Diluc. . I asked if you're okay . ?"

Shit. He was so enamoured by those--EYES of yours he didnt even reply to your question. He tried to compose himself and answer you. "No, everything's fine." He said with an awkward grimace to what you could only assume is a smile.

Feeling how the air around them suddenly became awkward, he attempted to right itself by blurting out the first thing that came to mind, "ahem. . say, y/n, It's been a long while since I played chess with anyone but my butler, and I just so happened to have a moment." A hesitant beat. "Care to play a round?"

You didnt answer in the beats that followed, scrunching your eyebrows and gazing this way and that in contemplation. You aren't very good at chess, and strategy based games really aren't your thing. But looking at diluc's eager expression made you consider saying yes. Ah, but you dont want to waste his time with your lack of skills. . .

Diluc noticed your hesitation but didn't want to pressure you. "Don't worry if you don't know how to play, I can teach you. . . If you're willing, that is," he said with a reassuring smile. You felt a bit of relief wash over you and smiled in agreement (diluc's heart soared a little when he saw your bright smile).

He escorted you to another room, claiming that it was the absolute best place to play chess. Now curious, you raced a little to the door, earning a small chuckle from diluc. He opened the door to the room and you eagerly went in, wanting to know exactly why it made for such a great room.

Seeing the room for yourself, you were not disappointed by its beauty. You gasped, "Wow, Diluc, this room is stunning!" Diluc smiled fondly towards you. "Thank you, y/n. I'm glad you like it."

You took some time to look around the room, taking in the elegant decor and the soft lighting. And the chess board! Sitting on a table stained deep brown to match the rest if the room, you gaze your wide eyes on the marble chess board, its pieces more intricately detailed than some of the statues you had seen. The more you looked at the room, the more you came to find and appreciate. "I 100% agree with what you said earlier now. I dont even play chess, but seeing this masterpiece makes me want to play just so I get the chance to use it- and beat you, of course!" You looked back at him cheekily, a Cheshires grin playing on your lips. Diluc huffed with a smile, "and to think I was willing to go easy on you. . . Hmmm, maybe I shouldn't, after hearing how confident you are. . . " he playfully added, an eyebrow raising in amusement.

You grimaced, instantly regretting your words and tried to backpedal. "Aah! But of course you should teach me! Ya know, it's been a while since I've played chess and I fear I've simply forgotten how to play. . . So! Be a gentleman and teach me your ways, why dont you?" You childishly grinned up at him, your hands on top of the other on the table, awaiting his guidance.

He chuckled, his voice a deep timbre, as he sat down on the chair across from you, his hands working gracefully in a practiced dance to set up the board, its pieces reflecting softly against the candle light. After setting it up, he went on to explain the rules of the game and how each piece moves. He was patient and kind throughout the whole thing, making sure to explain again whenever you were confused or had a question, offering up small compliments whenever you understood something. Diluc was impressed by your eagerness to learn, even though with the first round you lost within a few simple moves. You were slightly discouraged of course, but with a few reassurances and advice, you kept playing. The more rounds you played with him, the more confident you seemed, maybe even a little cocky, and the longer the rounds lasted. You were of course nowhere near as skilled as diluc, but you held your own against him considering your lack of experience.

Throughout the many rounds of chess, diluc has noticed a few things about you. The way you make those absurd faces with every dupe or skilled move he makes (one of his many favourites is of the pure distress that runs through your face everytime its evident that you're in a tight spot. He feels a bit guilty for putting you through it so many times, but it simply fills him with a childish joy everytime you strike a face. Your so expressive! He cant quite remember the last time he's felt such unabashed joy in his life).

Or the way your rash decisions often leave even him surprised, your lack of strategy often helping you come closer to winning a few rounds with how random they are (that is until he caught on and predicted your moves, earning himself a prominent glare from you).

And in an ironic twist, he came to enjoy the nonsensical rounds of chess with you, with each round you had with him becoming more absurd then the last, until the games simply became a speed run of stupid decisions and petty cheating, not caring about rules in the slightest.

It left you winded from laughing, your lungs sore from it. Loud banters ran rampant, and you both tried your hardest to stop the other person from playing, slapping and even grabbing each others arms to do so. It got to a point where you stood up, intending to put your body in front of diluc to stop him from moving his own pieces, but when push came to shove and diluc grabbed your hand wanting to pull you away from the board, you tripped and landed on top of him, one of your legs bent on one side of him while the other is between his legs, your arms braced on either side of his fiery head. 

Instantly, the room became quiet, both of you not daring to speak up or apologize, scared of breaking the heavy atmosphere you both were put under. the only thing diluc could focus on was your lips and the way your back was arching in such a way, his mind racing with illicit images of you. His hands could only hover over your hips, wanting so badly to feel the curve of you but not wanting to scare you away.

You on the other hand, was wishing so badly that he would hold your hips in place, feeling the warmth of his large hands just cm from your hips, your waist, your thighs. . . You couldn't help but inch closer towards his broad chest, grazing it slightly, all the while looking at his face, his lips. You gasped softly when you felt diluc reciprocating by placing his hands firmly on your waist and hips, pulling you forward so that your chest was now pressed against his. You angled your face so that your lips were mere inches apart, lifting one of your hands from behind his head to graze your fingers through his hair, slowly trailing your fingertips to caress his lower lip, begging him silently to make a move with your eyes.

Diluc saw that look in your eyes, those damned eyes that could make him do anything with just a simple gaze. It took only a single expression from you, and now he wanted nothing but to kiss you. Kiss you until your lips are puffy and you're clutching at his shirt and his hair. To wrap your plush legs around his waist, pressing yourself on his body, allowing him to caress every inch of skin on you, over and over. One look from you, and now he wants so desperately to pin you against every surface imaginable, his walls, the door, his bed. . .

The only warning you were given was a whispered "fuck. . ." From his lips before one of his hands was firmly intertwined with the hair on the back of your head, pulling you until his soft lips met with yours. You closed your eyes to savoure the feeling of his lips kissing yours with the smallest pecks, and although your mind soared with joy from these small kisses, your body ached for more, adjusting yourself so that both of your legs were on either side of him, lowering yourself down on his hips, earning yourself a slight groan from diluc. He stopped kissing and gazed upon your eyes with a dazed look, ". . . Y/n. . "

"Please, Diluc. . " your hands caressed his chest under his dark coat, attempting to slide it off his shoulders, your hips pressing down on his in the process. The hand placed in your hips was now digging slightly on the plush of your hips and ass, stopping you from moving any more.

That was all it took for diluc to deepen the kiss, his tongue now exploring the cave of your mouth, springing tears in your eyes. Both of your hands moved feverishly across his body, clutching his clothes in an attempt to keep yourself grounded, but to also pull him in closer.

He couldn't get enough of you and your body, either, his large hands roughly caressing your body. He caressed down your nape to your shoulders and arms, you back, feeling the arch of it. Both of his hands came back up to slide down the sides of your body, his fingertips grazing the sides of your breasts, making you inhale sharply in between kisses. His hands lowered even further down your body to the plush of your ass, to your bent thighs pressing against him. He was obsessed with them, his hands caressing up and down, digging, pulling, molding the fat, loved the way your body responded to his touch by grinding your ass on his crotch, the friction of it making his mind go blank.

The more he touched you, the more feverish your body felt, wanting to touch more of him, your hands worked to get rid of his coat and shirt, but your mind was too dazed to unbutton the shirt right so diluc had to help you remove the articles of clothing. One by one, more clothes were stripped and thrown across the floor. Diluc lifted you up from the chair and carried you across the room, still kissing you, and pinned you against the wall, your bare skin sandwiched between the wall and his toned chest, muscles working in tandom to keep you lifted. His lips worked his way down to your neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin, making you moan in his ears. His assault on your skin didnt stop, hickey's continuing to form on your skin. He kissed your shoulder, your collarbone, and back up to your lips.

"Y/n. . . " he whispered into your ears, causing you to gasp softly. He looked at you with anticipation, in question. Do you want to continue this?

And you did. You did want to continue, you wanted to continue touching him, kissing him, wanted him to drag his hands and lips across your body, to carry you into his bedroom and continue exploring down each others bodies, feeling his chest press against yours above you on his bed. . . . You wanted it all.

You pressed your body more harshly against him and whispered in his ear, "I want to continue diluc. . . Please . . . On your bed?" You dragged a hand slowly down his chest, his abs, feeling each muscle and scar. You could tell he was hooked by the way his breathing stopped, the way his sharp gaze followed your hand's slow drag across his skin. He cupped your chin, forcing you to look back up to him, allow him to angle your face closer to his. . .

You were both going to make out again, your lips mere cm away from his when a sharp knock on the door scared the both of you. You both stared at each other in horror upon realizing what position the two of you were in, chests bare and pressed against each other, your clothes strewn all over, your hair and faces a mess, and your hickey's! And all while one of his maids was just outside his door, too.

"Master diluc, are you alright? I heard noises coming from inside. . . "

Diluc attempted to clear his throat but his voice still came off hoarse, "ahem, I'm fine, no need to worry."

"Oh, I see. Well in any case, I have your coffee and a letter with me? Shall I come in?"

You shook you head immediately at that, but of course diluc didnt want that either. "No, thank you, just leave it on the table outside beside the door." It wasn't until you both heard the maid set the platter down with an audible clink and walk away completely that you heaved a sigh of relief. But now that the hot atmosphere was interrupted. . .

"Here, something to cover that up with. . . " you looked behind you to face diluc, holding up a woman's scarf. "Surely you know its rude to give a lady another woman's scarf, right? Perhaps a secret lover of yours?" You teased him with a conspiratorial grin, the awkward atmosphere already dissipating upon your words. He stared at you with incredulous shock before huffing a hoarse laugh, his deep voice turned scratchy from your previous. . . Activities. You tried your best not to let your face show your thoughts.

He stepped closer towards you, gently wrapping the soft cloth around your neck, "I assure you, y/n, that i do not have a secret lover hiding in these walls. . . It wouldn't reflect me well as a gentleman if I that were true."

You laughed in that sweet song of yours, your voice hitching up an octave, and your eyes positively glittering, "oh? And ravishing me against a wall until I have hickeys and swollen lips does?" He stared down on your giddy face, shocked for the second time. He opened and closed his mouth in an effort to retort back, to defend himself, but found he could not, resorting in defeat to rest his head on your shoulder with his hands clutching your arms, feeling the shudders of your bountiful laughter.

Your face burned from embarrassed at what you did with diluc, and it seemed that diluc was bearing the same burning fate. He settled you back down gently and allowed you to retrieve your clothes from the floor, saying thank you when you chucked him his own clothes as well. You both redressed in silence, not knowing what to do next or how the other person is feeling. Upon looking at the mirror to fix up your hair, you realized another apparent problem. Your hickeys are proudly peppered on your neck and collarbone, spots of purple and red trailing all the way up to your swollen lips.

You both ended up staying in that room for a few hours more, laying down together on the couch with dilucs coat blanketing you both, his strong arms enveloping your body in warmth.

#genshin impact #diluc x y/n #diluc imagines #diluc smut #diluc fluff #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x you #diluc x reader #diluc headcanons #genshin impact diluc #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons

[thegoober010]

HI the mettaton headcanons were AMAZING I LOVED THEM!!

Ok I have a bit of a specific request SO IF YOU CANT DO IT I WONT BE UPSET!!

But could you do a oneshot where Mettaton finds reader’s drawings of him, and old love letters they never gave him, and he realizes they love him AND THEN READER FINDS HIM LOOKING THROUGH THEM AND SJFJFJFJDJFJJD sorry im SO NORMAL ABOUT METTATON

-🐾 (im claiming my place as paw print anon now)

OMG I AM SO SORRY I DID NOT SEE THIS EARLIER GRRRR I WAS BEING SILLY YESTERDAY BUT I AM BACK ON TRACK NOW 😈😈

AND ALSO HELL YEAH I CAN DO IT DEARIE OMG TYSM IM GLAD YA LIKED THE HEADCANONS <33!!

I SHALL GLADY DO THIS REQUEST PAW PRINT ANON!!!

also IMA DO IT LIKE THAT THEY'RE ALREADY TOGETHER JUST THAT LIKE reader got too shy to give the letters/drawings and such to him even after they got together/didn't see the point after YA KNOW ANYWAYS LETS GET INTO IT

as usual gn! reader <3!!

TW/CWS -> NONE JUST FLUFF <3!!!!

word count -> 1.8k/1,848

"Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever?"

"Thanks so much for helping me out Mettaton!" You grinned as you picked up the huge overfilled box with your clothes. Mettaton turned his head over to you as you spoke, giving you a playful smirk, " Awe no need to thank me darling~! I'm always happy to help you out, especially since it's helping you move out into my home." Mettaton replied flipping his hair as he looked for any more boxes to put into the trunk of your car. Your face turns a light shade of pink due to his little pet names. You let out a soft chuckle as you open the door "Heh, still thank you, Uh I think there might be a few more boxes in the basement, could ya check for me?" You ask. Mettaton nods "Of course dearie~! Leave it up to me!" he says putting a hand on his hip before walking down to the basement to check for anymore boxes.

As you walk out to put the box in the trunk you slouch onto the side of the car, letting out a soft sigh. Jesus these boxes were heavy! Sometimes you forget how much stuff you buy.

As you were relaxing outside and taking a break from all the heavy lifting Mettaton was searching all throughout the basement. He was checking every crook and crevice of the basement so that he wouldn't accidentally leave anything behind. His metallic feet making a loud clanging noise as he walked, his eyes shifted over to a small box on the side of a dusty desk. He raised a brow as he quickly made his way to it. "Hehe, almost didn't notice this!" Mettaton giggled to himself as he gently grabbed the box and inspected it. As he moved it up to his eye level a small note escaped out of the open box. He raised a brow before bending down and picking it up. He inspected the note quickly, seeing how the envelope was open he let himself look inside. He took out the small note from the envelope, a small peek never hurt anybody, right? He skimmed over the note, his metallic body quickly heating up as he read every word from it.

'Mettaton, I wanted to give you this note because I've been wanting to tell you how much I truly love you, I love you more than anyone I have ever met, you're one of the first people, or well robots, to have ever made me feel this way. My heart beats a trillion times faster when I'm with you, I start to sweat and I dont know what to say, you just catch my attention every time you're near me or talk to me, you're one of the bets things to have ever happened to me and to have appeared in my life, no one has ever caught my attention like you. I hope you know what I mean, I hope you say the same to me, I hope you love me the same, because I love you so much more than you could ever imagine, I love you, so so much.' Mettaton read the note, over, and over, and over again. Each time he read it he could feel his body heat up and his heart (or well metallic heart- or monster heart? not even sure-) beat 10 times faster. A playful smirk quickly formed on his lips before he put the note back in, his eyes heart shaped as he placed the box down onto the desk. He opened up the box and saw even more letters. He grabbed a few of them and opened them, he read them as quickly as possible to not make it seem like he's taking to much time down in the basement.

'Ugh I don't even know why I feel like this, Mettaton I love you so much more than you could ever imagine, I know this note is a bit stupid, I know you probably would never like me back, but I just wish I could tell you already, I hope I don't just give up on this note like all the others but anyways I love you so much Mettaton, I genuinly do and I hope you feel the same. Ive never felt like this with anybody besides you. I feel like being with you my whole life, I feel like spending all my time with you, I want to spend all my time with you give you all my attention and love. I want to be with you for as long as I possibly can! I hope we can. I love you so much.' Mettaton could not stop reading these notes, god they were just so sweet! Mettaton let out a soft laugh, "Did they really think I wouldn't have liked them? Pff, this cutie really had no idea how much I loved them before huh." Mettaton thought out loud. He quickly opened up all the other notes, reading them. His body was currently overheating from joy and love. His pupils were heart shaped as he read through all of these little love notes that you had never given to him before. "I wonder why they didn't tell me about these notes now that we're together! Hehehe, I'll have to ask them later." He muttered, you both were daring after all, so he's a tads bit confused why you never gave him these notes after you confessed to him, he understands these were form way before you had confessed, but he wonders why you never gave them to him now that you two are together after all they're from the past and they honestly are super sweet.

He let out a soft chuckle before grabbing all the letters and organizing them. He closed them and peered inside the box once more before putting back the letters. He noticed a few more papers inside. Mettaton turned his head over to the stairs which led to the living room floor. He didn't hear any footsteps so he assumed it was safe to check. He grabbed the papers and gently placed them on the desk, he flipped through them. They were all little doodles of you and him together. They were mainly of you two going on dates and your little date ideas or about you thinking of him. He placed a hand on his mouth as he let out little giggles. His body was overheating as he looked through each one of them. As he looked through each of them he couldn't help but have a huge smile on his face. While he was giggling and smiling like an idiot at these notes and drawings he wasn't really paying much attention to his surroundings so he didn't hear you coming down to the basement, but once he heard your voice it was too late, you had caught him in the act of looking at your old and meant-to-be secret love-letters and doodles.

"Hey Mettaton I think that was all the boxes are ya done hereeee-..... uh- honey.... what are you doing...?" You ask as you had been making your way downstairs. You stopped midway on the stairs as you realized he had found that old box filled with your old love-letters and drawings. Mettaton turned his head over to you, a laugh escaped his lips and a playful smirk formed on his face as he saw your red, embarrassed face. "Hello darling! Nothing much just looking at these wonderful little drawings and letters you made to me in the past! Hopefully ya don't mind dear!" Mettaton replied putting the drawings and letters back gently. He closed the box and carried it, he walked over to you and looked down at your blushing, embarrassed face. He pinched your cheek as he laughed "No need to be so embarrassed! These are adorable I think I'll keep them!" Mettaton grinned, you tried to take away the box but due to his tall stature he was able to keep them out of your reach by holding them higher. "Mettaton!! Those are private! You weren't ment to find them! They're really old they're from before we got together and- and they're really bad!" You replied, your tone filled with shame as you crossed your arms, you hid your face with one of your hands trying to hide your embarrassment and just yourself in general as if that would work.

Mettaton smirked and shook his head. "But they're cute! I like them! So what if they're old and cheesy? They just show how much you really love me, no need to be so embarrassed!" Mettaton chuckled ruffling your hair. You grumbled in response causing Mettaton to take your hand of your face and pinch your cheek once more, admiring your cute features. "You look so adorable when you're all embarrassed like this! Just look at you darling so cute~!" he teased causing you to stumble all over your words. You let out a grumble.

"I'm taking these with us dearie! Now come on let's get going so we can move everything in early! We wouldn't want to be unpacking all your stuff late at night now would we? We don't want you missing out on your beauty rest hehe!" Mettaton giggled before using his arm to pick you up. Despite your many protests he loved picking you up, being able to keep you so close to him physically and being able to show everyone how close you two are made him very happy for some reason, it felt like he was able to show you off like this and he loved it! He giggled as he brought you two to the car, he placed you down so that he could open the back car door and place the small box on the seat. Once he did he closed the door and looked down at you. "Awe don't look at me like that dear~! It's not my fault your little love letters were so cute that I want to keep them." Mettaton remarked noticing your blushing face. "Ugh it's just a bit embarrassing is all..." You mumbled.

Mettaton placed his hand on his hip. He put his other hand on his chin as he seemed to think for a bit. "Hmmm, well, no need to be embarrassed! Those little notes just show how much you love me darling~!" he smirked. "Now come on, get in the car so we can get going, I want to get home and relax with you already!" Mettaton smiled as he bent down to give your face multiple little pecks on your cheeks, forehead and lips, leaving you all red in the face and feel embarrassed but also lovely. You gave him a peck on the cheek before nodding. "Fine, fine, let's get going then." You reply with a soft smile forming. He grins widely as he played with you hair. "Good~! Oh and- don't be scared to make me some new letters or drawings hehehe!! I'll appreciate every single one of them!" "Hm, fine, if that's what you want my love." You reply.

"Heh, I love you so much darling!"

#mettaton #Mettaton ex #mettaton undertale #undertale #undertale fanfic #undertale fanfiction #Mettaton x reader #toby fox

[snoozeeebee]

❝ 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛 ❞ | 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚘𝚌 | 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚍𝚞𝚛'𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝟹 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌

𝚃𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚎: ❝ golden hour ❞ 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: rolan stops and takes in the beauty of his lover as the sun sets 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1,012, honestly longer than i thought it would have turned out! 𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: Hello to everyone that clicked on this post! This is my first ever Baldur's Gate 3 fanfiction, so I apologize if Rolan is out of character, I never written anyone with his personality before LOL i might turn this one into an x reader fanfic as well, but i have one cooking in the pot right now 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚜: lots of fluff, two dweebs being in love

The soft golden rays of the dying sun beams through the windows, some stained in various colors to create intricate and delicate artwork on Ramazith’s Tower now owned by Rolan. Shiloh spent the day at her lover’s tower, reading away until the black ink scribble text on the thin parchment was becoming foggy to the eye. Although, another piece of literature caught her attention not long into her break. Even now, her gorgeous golden eyes were moving across the page lazily as she took her time soaking in the words.

Speak of the devil: Rolan rounded the corner with a question for his human companion at the tip of his tongue when he made an abrupt stop upon seeing her. His own golden eyes softened up the tiniest bit and sucked in a breath, seeing her in all of her glory. The tiefling felt like time itself had come to a halt as his gaze lingered on Shiloh, as if trying to memorize every single detail of her.

The first feature he would notice about her is how soft she was - her face, her body, her personality. Shiloh practically glowed with a sweet and comforting aura, and it made Rolan feel something he rarely ever feels: safe. He focused his attention on her eyes, his own glowing golden taking in the sight of how vibrant they were; it was as if she took some of the sunshine herself and kept it in her irises, and they looked even better with the sun shining down in them.

By now, the tiefling’s poor little heart was just a-beatin’ so fast. It was a contrast from how he was wagging his tail with slow movements; his tail usually did this when he was in the presence of his beloved. Rolan was so engrossed with Shiloh’s beauty before him, he failed to notice a small - yet forever sweet - smile tugging at the ends of her golden tinted lips. Yet, she never made a movement away from reading the book in her dark and light splotchy hands.

“I feel the burn of your very lovely eyes on me more than the last rays of the setting sun,” Shiloh spoke gently, coming out as a loving purr.

The draconic bloodline sorcerer flickered her eyes to the side, both pairs of gorgeous golden orbs clashed against one another. Rolan’s eyes were full of embarrassment, Shiloh’s eyes were full of adoration. A hint of a color one shade darker than his skin tone dusted his sharp cheekbones.

It was rather funny how the two mixed with one another: the sorcerer was always smiling and joyful, the wizard always seemed so grumpy and annoyed. To the outside world, it seemed like their relationship was one-sided. On the flip side, when they have some needed privacy is the time the wizard lets out his stone walls around himself and is truly himself - truly vulnerable - around her.

The very moment that their eyes met, Shiloh’s heart skipped a beat or two. A breathless, giddy giggled tumbled out of her mouth. Upon hearing her sweet little laugh - what Rolan considers to be one of his favorite sounds in all of the planes - his blush quickly faded into a darker red color than his skin tone; the red tint on his skin even made it up to the tip of his ears. He swiftly jerked his head away, an embarrassed scowl twisting his lips downwards.

“I-It’s not what it looks like—”

Shiloh closed the book that she was reading with a soft thud that bounced around two large bookshelves on either side of the couple, silently memorizing what page she was on before placing the leather-bound literature piece onto the small smooth wooden table beside where she stood. Her curvy hips would sway back and forth as she crept closer and closer to Rolan.

All thoughts and worries that swirling around in that brain of his crashed into a dead end as he felt the satin soft flesh of her hand against his heated cheek, his attention immediately snapping back to Shiloh’s.

Rolan involuntarily leaned into her soothing touch, her skin almost seeming cool against the heat of his skin. He sighed silently as he let himself sink into the comfort of her touch, letting himself roll off the day's worth of stress. As if his tail had a mind of its own, the long appendage wrapped itself around her waist. He didn't miss the way her eyes sparkled impossibly more, and she placed her other hand on his tail, being mindful about the pointed tip.

“Hey… Eyes on me?”

Her voice alone was enough to calm him down a bit and come down from being embarrassed. Rolan could see it on his lover’s face, nothing but love and joy written all over her face. He could feel this heart beat even more swifter and with even more strength, the wizard was thinking that Shiloh could for sure hear it beat or perhaps even feel it.

“It’s okay, my darling. I don’t mind if you stared at me,” Shiloh said in a tone just above a whisper, almost as if she would scare Rolan away if her words came out any louder. “I actually enjoy when you do because, honestly…? I stare at you, too. Probably more than I should.”

Hearing her confession slip out, the tiefling couldn’t help but to raise the corners of his lips to the ghostiest of smiles. The two have been together for a while now, but Shiloh could tell - even with how small his smile was - that he was relaxed and letting the unnecessary embarrassment go. In fact, his face morphed into one of love and contentment for his one and only.

The sorcerer sprang up on her tiptoes to give her devilish love a kiss on the tip of his nose before standing back down at her normal height. The height difference wasn’t too much between the pair, although Rolan is a good few inches taller than her.

“Would you like me to indulge you in the novel I was just reading?” Shiloh questioned with an adorable bat of her eyes, something she knew Rolan liked about her. “I’m sure you’ll find it as interesting as I.”

Said man’s glowing golden orbs glanced over to the book that was laying on the table, taking a quick observation of the cover before trailing back to Shiloh. A small smirk - his signature look - took ahold of his features.

“Hmm?” he hummed out thoughtfully. “I suppose I can trust your judgment on what novel is good. Do go on, let’s hear about this reading of yours.”

𝙷𝚒 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐! 𝙸𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚢 💛

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate oc #baldur's gate tav #rolan x tav #rolan x oc #holy rolan empire #bg3 rolan #rolan #bg3 x tav

[wongyuuu]

seventeen as songs from red (ts)

a/n: for this, i'll be giving songs and lyrics to each of the members, as well as small plots based on those lyrics. i don't plan to write all of these, but they are still my ideas (as basic as some of them might be). so if you are interested in writing one of them, you can message me about it. if you want to read one of them you can send in a request and i'll write for you

red | 1989 | reputation | lover | folklore | midnights

• Seungcheol ➝ Red Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly ↳ Seungcheol is a clandestine race driver, all bad boy, but his entire life changes once he meets you ↣ read here

• Jeonghan ➝ Everything Has Changed And all my walls stood tall, painted blue But I'll take 'em down, take 'em down And open up the door for you ↳ Jeonghan always held back in his relationships but when you come into his life, like a sudden thunderstorm, he can't help but let you in.

• Joshua ➝ The Very First Night But don't forget about the night out in L.A Dance in the kitchen, chase me down through the hallway No one knows about the words that we whispered ↳ Joshua has always been your best friend so when the two of you go on a trip together the feelings you've been holding back for years finally boil over.

• Jun ➝ Begin Again But on a Wednesday, in a café, I watched it begin again ↳ everyday Jun goes to the same café in hopes that one day he’ll get enough courage to ask the cute barista out. ↣ read here

• Soonyoung➝ Treacherous Forever going with the flow But you're friction ↳ you were always the kind of kid who followed the rules and that didn't change as you grew up. So what happens when you move to another city and your new neighbor, Soonyoung, is the most spontaneous person you've ever met and is adamant in taking you along to all of his adventures?

• Wonwoo ➝ Come Back… Be Here One last kiss, then catch your flight Right when I was about to fall I told myself, "Don't get attached" But in my mind, I play it back Spinning faster than the plane that took you ↳ when you agreed to a date with the popular idol you promised yourself that you would never catch feelings for him. But once is time to say goodbye, when his job demands he travels to another country, you find yourself reluctant to say goodbye.

• Jihoon ➝ I Bet You Think About Me "Oh my god, she's insane, she wrote a song about me" I bet you think about me ↳ Jihoon is usually the one writing songs about his relationships, so it surprises him when he comes across a song written about him.

• Minghao ➝ The Moment I Knew A million little shining stars that just align ↳ Minghao used to have stars in his eyes whenever he looked at you, so when they're gone you don't know where that leaves you.

• Mingyu ➝ State of Grace So you were never a saint and I loved in shades of wrong We learn to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts But this love is brave and wild ↳ you were always one to fall in love with the wrong guy, but what if the wrong guy turns out to be the right one?

• Seokmin ➝ Message In A Bottle And I became hypnotized By freckles and bright eyes, tongue-tied ↳ Seokmin has many beauty spots all over his body, you make a point of knowing each one of them. ↣ read here

• Vernon ➝ I Almost Do I bet you think I either moved on or hate you 'Cause each time you reach out, there's no reply I bet it never, ever occurred to you That I can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye ↳ After a bad breakup, Vernon wants to get in touch with you again - even if it's just to apologize - but the task is harder than expected. So he decides to leave voice messages to you, in hopes that you'll hear them.

• Seungkwan ➝ Run So you laugh like a child And I'll sing like no one cares No one to be and no one to tell I could see this view a hundred times Pale blue sky reflected in your eyes ↳ Seungkwan decides to take you on a date under the stars.

• Chan ➝ 22 We're happy, free, confused, and lonely in the best way It's miserable and magical, oh yeah Tonight's the night when we forget about the heartbreaks ↳ in a desperate attempt to take his mind off of his recent breakup, Chan invites all of his friends to a karaoke night at his place. And, maybe, that's where he finds the one he's been looking for.

taglist: @wonwooz1, @ryuwonieebae, @sobun1est, @mirtaspace, @ho34gojo, @feat-sun, @wonvsmile, @mhlsymlysn, @swinterr, @immabecreepin, @uniq-tastic, @miriamxsworld

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#k-labels #seventeen imagine #svt imagine #choi seungcheol #yoon jeonghan #hong joshua #moon junhui #kwon soonyoung #jeon wonwoo #lee jihoon #xu minghao #lee seokmin #kim mingyu #chwe hansol #boo seungkwan #lee chan

[jjunsolos]

15. ; the talk

synopsis - when your best friend dahyun offers to let you stay at her house, you really can’t say no. especially with how things are at the moment. what she didn’t mention is that her little brother lives with her too…

warnings - written,

wc - 513

author’s note - im backkk ! this is probably the shortest chapter of this series😭 and im srry it took so long to update, ill do better😞🙏🏽

prev | m.list | next

(story under the cut)

(Author’s POV)

It was hotter than usual today. The sun was blazing and there was no breeze to make things better. Yet, Dahyun was still persistent on taking Jungkook to the park.

The two siblings play a round of basketball as they laugh about their childhood memories, they walk around the grass as they talk about what they’ve been up to in life, and they play tag on the playground, acting like they’re children all over again. But Dahyun doesn’t bring up the thing until they’ve settled down onto a nearby bench.

Jungkook lets out an exhausted huff as he sits down on the bench, enjoying the coolness of the shade. Dahyun sits down next to him. She looks around and admires the colorful flowers around them. They’re all so beautiful, Summer is so beautiful.

“Hey,” Dahyun starts, “can I ask you something?”

Jungkook looks at her with a confused expression, but nods his head anyway.

“Go ahead.”

“What… what’s going on between you and Y/n?” she finally asks. The question seems to catch him off guard, considering the way he froze up with wide eyes.

Nothing comes out of his mouth. He’s too stunned to speak. Dahyun decides to add on.

“I mean… you both used to be so playful with one another. Now it’s so awkward and quiet in the apartment. What’s going on?”

Jungkook silently looks down at his lap. How is he supposed to tell his older sister that he has feelings for her best friend? But he doesn’t want to lie to her, either. He’s never lied to her.

“It’s complicated.” he says, running his right hand through his hair. Dahyun scoffs at his response. She don’t believe that shit.

“Alright then. I guess we’ll just have to sit here ‘till you tell the truth.” Dahyun says stubbornly. She then sits there silently, staring at nothing but a stop sign from the street ahead of them. Jungkook groans with a roll of his eyes.

“Why do you care, anyways?”

Dahyun scoffs at the younger before shaking her head.

“I’m not forcing you to tell me anything. You don’t have to, seriously.” she all but grumbles. She’s not looking at him, but she can tell he’s pouting.

Jungkook sighs and looks up to the tree’s leaves. He should tell her. There’s no point in hiding anything from his sister. She’ll find out one way or another. Plus, Jungkook hates lying, to Dahyun especially.

“Fine,” he starts, “I’ll tell you. But don’t get mad…”

They sit there as Jungkook comes clean. He tells her everything. He tells her about the date with Mingyu, the guy at her work, just everything.

As Jungkook ends his ranting, he stares down at his lap, too scared to look his sister in the eye. Dahyun sits there in silence. Everything makes sense. He likes her! She smiles softly and pats Jungkook on the shoulder.

“Thank you for telling me, Kook.”

That’s all she says before standing up with a stretch. And with that, she walks away. Jungkook sits there, confused.

‘That was weird…’

[permanent taglist]

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