#‘and somehow i know that you and i would’ve found each other’

[eddiewithcat]

taylor swift wrote ‘timeless’ for lokius (i am right)

[nezuscribe]

gojo never imagined an arrange marriage with you, but now you’re all he can think about.

he thinks about you when he’s training, when he’s seated at his round table, when he’s in his bed, everywhere, every time, you’re all he can think about.

and you’re oblivious to it.

you heard the gossip everywhere you walked, about the girl gojo was pleading with his family to marry. how much he loved her, how beautiful she was, how much more elegant she was compared to you. you knew you were never his first choice, not even his fifth, but it hurt even more when everybody acknowledged it.

you stopped wearing your wedding ring, started acting like you were just another person there. luckily gojo didn’t seem to be in any hurry about making heirs, so pretending like you two were working things out didn’t even matter anymore.

you find yourself alone most of the time. your maids were kind and patient, but they had so many things to do throughout the day that you felt awful pestering them to walk around the estate with you.

eating dinners with gojo became normal, but most of your other meals were in silence, always feeling like a speck of dust in the large dining hall.

one day when you’re walking around aimlessly you stumble across the training grounds, the open space below you filled with men swinging wooden swords back and forth at each other.

it wasn’t difficult to find your husband, his white hair hard to miss in a crowd of others. he didn’t notice you watching from above, and so you stayed hidden, not knowing if the men were picky with who watched them.

he was swift and agile. everything he did was precise and with meaning. no wonder he was named the best warrior of the north.

you found this to be more entertaining than walking around the gardens for the tenth time or watching the cooks assemble the next meal, so you didn’t even notice how gojo looked up to see you, somehow slipping away without you knowing.

you were in a state of watching but not really thinking, almost jumping out of your skin when you heard his voice behind you.

“didn’t know i had an audience,”

you yelp, flinching as you look behind you to see your husband all sweaty, panting slightly as he moves his hair away from his face. you eye the stairs that led him up here, wondering how you could’ve missed that.

you laugh sheepishly, giving him an apologetic smile as you pick are your nails.

“i’m sorry,” you scratch behind your ears, feeling heat rise to your cheeks under his intense gaze. it’s unfair how pretty somebody can look, especially after training for an hour straight, “i was just walking around and i saw this.”

he waved it off, shaking his head as he leaned his sword on the wall.

“not a problem,” his eyes shine, “i just would’ve tried harder if i knew my wife was watching.”

my wife.

the words fall so smoothly from his lips you wonder how many times he’s said it before. with malice, hatred, necessity?

you smile a little bit, eyes crinkling around the edges as you look away briefly, not noticing the way gojo chased after your cheerful face.

“how’d you get up here? where are your ladies?” he asks suddenly, looking around at the fact that it was just you up here.

“my what?” you say, looking up at him through furrowed brows.

“you know,” he waves his arm around as if that would help, “you’re ladies in waiting,”

you scrunch up your nose a little bit, something he noticed you did when you were confused.

“oh, well, my maids are working right now,” you tell him, noting that he still didn’t look any less confused.

“no, not your maids, your ladies,” he tilts his head to the side, “the girls your family sent them up to help you around.”

you stare at him, unblinking.

“the girls that are your friends, the ones that help accustom you…” gojo trials off when he realizes he’s not getting anywhere with you.

you feel even more embarrassed than when he caught you watching him, hating the way you were clueless at yet another thing in this life that no one explained to you.

“the girls you hang around with?” he finally lands on, hoping this jogs your memory.

you shake your head, eyes wide as you fidget with the fabric of your dress. his eyes fall onto your finger, lingering on the fact that you’re not wearing your ring.

“who do you spend your time with throughout the day?” gojo seems even more lost than you. he’s seen you with…? well surely that one time…?

“by,” you swallow, embarrassed, “by myself. i walk around a lot.” you admit sheepishly.

“your family didn’t send…?” he answers his own question with his silence.

this entire time you’ve been alone?

he opens his mouth to speak but somebody beats him to it.

“satoru! get down here! we’re still not done!” his friends shouts from below, and you look over your shoulder to see all the men staring at the two of you.

gojo stares at you, unblinking.

“i,” he swallows but can’t find any words.

you can’t either.

he leaves you there, running down those stairs as he shouts at the other guys to resume what they were doing. that entire day he was off his balance because he kept looking up to see you there, but you weren’t.

maybe you were just walking around, like you said.

[willyoubemycherryy]

Intimacy Cues (C. Kent)

Summary: Who better to teach you how to talk body when you never learned the language?

Contains: smut AND plot so it’s long,depressing past, the college au you all secretly needed, struggles with physical touch, struggles with any form of intimacy, one mild panic attack, Clark is understanding but hot, dumb ideas, hugging, bonding, kissing, making out, it starts off shaky then soft but quickly snowballs into horn-e central, size kink, slight dumbification, strength kink, first kisses, virginity kept but not for long just give me till the second part, Clark is a little infatuated, they’re so nasty about each other my word, grinding, kissing (no forreal), prayer bc we all need it

A/N- my stomach is fine, it wasn’t a tumor but a blockage because of something I ate that never digested, causing my tummy to bloat and swell but they fixed me up so I’m back😈

. .* ੈ✩‧₊•

“Nononono- no, stop!!”

This might be the worst decision of your entire life.

Clark pulls away again, looking down at you with his eyebrows drawn together in concern but also exasperation because-

“Hey! It’s okay- you’re okay. Remember…you were the one who asked for my help.” He didn’t say the obvious “but we’re not getting any farther” part out loud but it echoes through your head all the same and you breathe out a deep sigh; regretting it with the depths of your very being but, yes. You did ask him for his help.

Help with what? The answer would’ve ended your social life if anyone who wasn’t Clark had found out.

You needed his help with…closeness- intimacy.

Growing up you were always awkward. Not in a charming way or even unconventional, you just simply didn’t make the cut based by society’s standards. You were always too gangly, too weird, too timid; so imagine the surprise come middle of highschool to now college where you’ve finally grown into yourself.

You know how you like to dress and which clothes look hottest on you, you know what hairstyle suits best for your face shape, you’re still weird but you’re also sarcastic which somehow equals charm to people and you’ve also managed to come out of your shell a bit. Becoming more confident from people naturally gravitating towards you after your blooming stage and even more after letting your friends convince you to join your college’s cheerleading team. You’d become everything you wanted to always try.

Pretty, popular, and fun. The problem?

Thanks to how much of a late bloomer you were, you never got the chance to get comfortable with others intimately during your formative years. Nobody liked you in that way and you were terrified of embarrassing yourself so there was nothing. No first kiss, no first dance with a boy, hell- even now you still get uneasy when others stare at you too long. Hiding behind your image as a college sweetheart made everything you were still to unsettled to try easier. Don’t misunderstand; it wasn’t that you never wanted those things, it’s that you’re not used to others suddenly picking you for those kinds of things after being invisible and missing out on them for almost all your life to the point where you don’t know how to deal with it when those moments do happen.

Still, you acted like everything was fine.

Playing the role of pretty cheerleader- the flirty tease that was favored by many even though that favor was shallow as a tear on a hot day. You pretended. And it was working, nobody knew…or so you believed.

Cue to one of the football teams parties where you’d been flirting with a guy, coy smile painted on your face as you giggled softly whenever he spoke, batting your pretty eyes at him in your little mini skirt. It had been going well until he suddenly leaned closer, focusing solely on you and when you felt the heat of his skin from how close he was- it felt as if the color had drained from your face, leaving you frozen as you became so uncomfortable it was visible; nerves screaming at you to flee until you listened. Spinning on your heels and bolting, trying to calm your breathing enough to will the cotton out of your ears.

You didn’t realize it then but a certain pair of blue eyes had been watching the whole thing. He’s always seen you. Which is funny because you almost always actively avoid him. In fact, he’s seen you enough to know that this isn’t the first time you’ve had that reaction and one day after a particularly rough week of endless pondering over you; he decides to just ask you after practice is over. Clark waits until his and your friends leave, it being only you and him on the field when he starts to walk over to you. The sound of incoming footsteps make you look up and when you see him, he can hear the very second your heart stops; skipping a beat before it quickly begins to thrum out of rhythm.

Honestly, there genuinely are not enough words to describe how attractive Clark Kent was. He was so incomprehensibly beautiful that you avoided Clark altogether just to avoid getting a headache from staring at him for too long especially since the real suffering started when he’d smile. Seemingly perfect pearly white straight teeth but when his grin broadened, his sharp canines would show, leaving you breathless every time. The type of good looking that was flat out overwhelming. Besides being apart of adjacent stereotypes, you two didn’t go together but there was no animosity.

Clark stops and you have to look up at him because of his hulking size. At almost 6’4 he nearly dwarfed you and his proportions matched. Thick, beefy everything- everywhere and you swallow before forcing a smile on your face. While you preferred to avoid him for the sake of keeping yourself out of the psych ward from how crazy he could drive you; you were still curious as to why he came to talk to you. He takes a moment to just look at you, cerulean eyes almost glowing but he doesn’t realize how intense his stare is until you start to shuffle on your feet- dainty hands twitching nervously at your side and that’s when he speaks.

“Hey…I know we don’t usually talk or anything but are you okay?” Even his voice is dreamy but confusion draws on your face because you felt fine; nervous, like you were around any guy you thought was cute, but fine. Clark elaborates at your expression,

“Y’know because of what happened at the party last-”, that seems to jog your memory enough to snap you out of it, eyebrows shooting up as dread overtakes over your face. You whip your head around, making sure there’s no witnesses when you grab him by his sweaty shirt, dragging him all the way behind the bleachers as you slam him against the metal. Clark is caught so off guard that he just lets it happen; lets the pretty thing half his size drag him as you pleased. Your eyes shift as you glare up at him.

You’re positive he’s talking about your little freak out with close proximity guy, the one that made you leave the party completely; walking so fast you nearly burned a trail in the carpet. Heart pounding, you start to spiral.

He wasn’t supposed to see that. He- like everyone else- was supposed to be too drunk to notice anything.

Your nose scrunches, full lips curling in a snarl. “I swear if you say anything to anyone-!” You’re threatening him so fast, Clark falters, raising his hands in defense, debilitating blue eyes widening as he starts to plead his case.

“No no-! I didn’t! I-“, He stutters at your harsh gaze, the feel of your hands soaking through his shirt, warming his chest. He needs to hurry up and explain himself before you start disliking him. “I was just worried! Whenever I see you and a guy, even if you act interested-“, he rushes out, panting as he talks even faster, “the second they get too close you look like you’ll vomit!” Your hostility melts into shock and even more confusion and you let go of his shirt, stepping back as you study him, his words stuck in your mind.

“How..? Are you- you’ve been paying that close attention to me? When do you even see me?” You’re at such a loss for words that it’s hard to string them together to properly question him.

“…I”, he swallows harshly, “I always see you.” It’s pure adrenaline that motors his mouth- he thought he was over the time when lovely faced girls made him nervous but you were unexpectedly feisty. It lit something tingly in him. Your eyes search his face and he spills. “I see how you flirt but you’re sarcastic too. Everyone is so taken by your pretty that they don’t even notice, they just call it ‘wit”, he manages to catch his breath enough to sound less panicked now that you look like you won’t kill him, “I see how even though you’re a flyer, you hate heights-”

“H-how-?”

“Your right leg shakes when they lift you, no matter how stable your base is.” Your mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out, heart racing when his voice goes soft,

“But what I’m saying is- so what that you’re not really what you give off? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. ‘Jus curious why you think it is…”, he blinks those long lashes at you and you find yourself explaining the tale of your sordid social past.

By the end of it he’s stunned speechless.

You? Just how bad was your awkward phase for nobody to be interested in you? Wait so that also probably meant that-

“You’re a virgin?!”

You slap your hands over his mouth with a speed equal to his own, face flushed as you shush him, hissing in a low whisper.

“Jesus Chri- shut up! Are you trying to tell the entire campus?!!” You let out another heavy sigh.

“…yes, I am”. You let your hands fall to the side, refusing to look at him while he’s trying to process; silence filling the space between you. You’ve accepted that your ego will never recover from the most gorgeous being on the planet knowing about all your…truths. That you looked and acted the part of a vixen just to hide that you secretly weren’t.

“…so you’ve never done anyt-”,

“No.”

Well then.

You can’t take another long drag of awkward silence, turning to face the boy who knew you probably more than anyone else did.

“Look- I would’ve loved to remedy this but I-”

“Can’t stomach whenever a guy gets too close due to previous deep rooted societal wrought insecurities…” Bingo.

“Well for what it’s worth,” he gives you one of his disarming grins and a flush creeps up your neck; warming your ears, “I think you’re doing fine now.” You snap your head down to see that you two are standing fairly close or at least closer than you normally allow and you don’t have that itch to get him as far away from you as possible. That’s when you get the idea that- “Oh my god! You can help me get over my thing! This is perfect!”! You’re practically vibrating with glee, excited to finally have all your firsts without that looming of touch related dread haunting you. Clark however is swarmed with various images of him “helping” you and can’t keep his ears from reddening at all the different scenarios where he’d be required to be close to you and begins to stutter.

“W-well, I wa- not that I-! I don’t think that’s a good idea, I mean w-we-”, you cut him off before he can weasel out of it, eyebrows creasing in frustration. You unconsciously step closer, your sweet smell bathes his senses as he stares you down, trying not to gulp too hard. “Please, Clark?”, you start and he swallows harshly at how his name sounds in that whiny tone from your lips.

“It can’t be anyone else because you’re the only one who knows! We’re not close now but we could be-“, and the double meaning makes him tune out completely as he only watches your plump lips move; not even registering the sound coming from them. He was thankful you didn’t ask him why he watched you so closely because the answer was one he wasn’t ready to even admit to himself.

Your lips stop moving after a while and them paired with your begging doe eyes make him cave, Clark nodding in hopeless defeat. He was supposed to be over the influence of pretty girls.

“S’okay, I’ll help you out. Your secret’s safe with me.” The corner of his mouth tilts up in a lopsided smile that was somehow both attractive but made you feel safe and you smile shyly back. You were nervous but you know Clark is a good guy- reckless as hell with his charms- but a good guy. What could go wrong?

•

•

•

Standing in the middle of your dorm room with your arms wound tight around yourself is when you find out that alot can go wrong.

Clark came over and you two came up with a starting plan that seemed the easiest: talk and slowly close the distance between you two until he was touching and looking at you without you getting uncomfortable or pushing him away. It sounded simple enough at first only…. you severely underestimated how you’d react to Clark. The way his deep mellow voice sounded in your ears, how he always held such steady eye contact as he moved towards you, that heavenly jawline tilting when he’d think too long. Already, Clark was big from afar but up close he was even bigger. Strong arms and broad shoulders; chest so thick it was noticeable through his shirt. You were used to others falling at your feet but Clark stood fine and it affected you in ways you didn’t prepare to deal with, so you tried to do what you always did- ignore it.

Matching Clark’s light conversation as you two eventually get more comfortable, gradually gravitating towards each other with slow short steps. The air shifts when you exhale and the breath tickles his chest. This is when you normally get squeamish but you merely hesitate for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and pushing yourself by letting him keep his distance.

His hand twitch and he shuffles a bit closer, biceps flexing as he reaches out, resting his hands on your shoulders; your conversation quiets as he stares at you with perfectly blue lidded eyes and then you feel the stirrings of restlessness under your skin. That impeding urge to get away. Despite the way you feel, the slow atmosphere helps you tremendously to not pull away but your pulse spikes all the same. His hands felt nice. You take another deep breath as you try to come to terms with what you were feeling.

Clark was a guy.

A guy who was standing in your bubble, touching you- looking at you.

A million emotions fly across your face at record speed and Clark doesn’t move any more for the next couple minutes. No, he waits for you; large rough palms warm on your bare shoulders while his pinky idly messes with the thin strap of your top. Your skin was soft. The heavy rise and fall of your chest has him focusing on you more intensely, trying to get a read on how you felt until you break the silence with a shaky exhale.

“We can keep going- you can keep touching me.” He knows you don’t mean it that way but his ears burn anyways as he nods. Taking a second to think before taking his hands off you to take yours, ignoring your big eyes look as he places your hands around his waist- inevitably moving closer and his voice softens like he’ll frighten you away if he were to speak any louder.

“You can touch me too. Promise I don’t mind…this is for you after all.” You suppress a whine because being so close was already hard with you fighting every instinct yelling at you to get gone and go somewhere where nobody could comprehend you but now with Clark staring at you like that, it was even harder. Your eyes flick about the room as you flatten your palms more against his back, mentally rolling your eyes back at how his muscles feel. You don’t even realize you’re biting your lip but Clark does, instantly alert the second he felt your small hands nervously press against him, his eyes zeroed in on the swollen skin dipping under the pressure of your teeth. He feels bad because while he was supposed to be helping you, he couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy you were being so shy but hardheaded enough to build up the grit to go for what scared you because you wanted it.

Without taking his eyes off your face, he rubs his hands up to your neck, making you squeak before smoothing them back down your shoulders; repeating the motions with a gentle hum.

The room feels hot- you felt hot and jittery but it’s too much. Unable to keep the waves at bay, goosebumps trickle over your skin and your eyes scrunch in panic as your breathing picks up. He was close. Close and touching you. You can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes because you know when you do, you’ll be naked for all to see and you scream.

“Stop!”

Nobody can see you-nobody’s supposed to be seeing you, the girl who was never even chose last as you were overlooked entirely no matter how badly you wanted to reach out. Maybe that’s what started your fear. Maybe you were scared of losing experiences because of rejection.

Clark doesn’t move away but he isn’t touching you anymore and you aren’t touching him as your hands fly to the sides of your head, trying to calm yourself down and guilt pours over him. He wants to hug you; comfort you but he knows that pulling you against him in a hug will only worsen things right now so he waits. Closing his eyes to help you feel at ease, listening closely to the beat of your heart until your breaths quiet and he hears it fluctuate back to normal. He keeps his eyes closed until he feels your small trembling hands slide back around him and instead of putting his hands on your shoulders, he moves his arms around them; resting them against your back but not pulling you in yet. It’s quiet besides the hushed sounds of him cooing at you and your breathing. The air now has an underlying current and you shift in his heavy arms, inhaling deeply as you finally look up at his face. Shyly, you cut the silence; voice soft as how you feel.

“…you can open your eyes now..” Clark feels his own heart speed up before he responds, low tone matching yours and electricity hits you when it clicks. This is intimate.

“Are you okay? We can stop and try again some other time; I don’t wanna upset-,”

“I want you to look at me.”

His eyes pop open at your command, peering down at you in such a way that your breath catches; anxiousness rising up you again but you stay right where you are. Willing yourself to embrace the exposed way he makes you feel.

Under the heat of his stare it’s like he’s seeing everything you’ve ever hid or been but his hold is steady enough to let you know he’s there with you and he’s not going anywhere. You still feel naked but more than that, you feel safe. Comfortable enough to not shy away from his warmth, you take another breath; looking up at him through your lashes- it makes his head fuzzy.

His eyes shift from their usual blue to the shade of the sea after a storm and you’re swept away, logic going with you as you slowly glide your hands up his sides to his where his arms hold you. Feeling every dip and curve of his strong build until you reach his hands, repositioning them around your lower back. You move closer but because you two were already standing so close- your chests touch and Clark stops breathing. The soft swell of your breasts move against his body with your every inhale and he finds his senses filled with you.

Your gaze is torn away when you turn your head, looking down as you drop against his chest. Arms looping around him making his own instinctively curl around you, holding you tight to the firm but soft muscle of his chest. You both pause for a few minutes- waiting for the urgent panic but it never comes. Instead, you melt into him with a relieved sigh, warm breath bleeding into his shirt. You two were officially hugging.

And you were in heaven.

You never knew close contact with the opposite gender could be so delightful. Clark was just so big and warm and smelled so good, you bury your face into the meat of his pec almost deliriously, sighing happily. Fuck, you really had been missing out. His arms are firm and heavy against your back, effectively locking you against him. The endorphin rush hitting you has you practically purring; the sounds of your bliss vibrating Clark’s chest and he smiles, letting you get your fix as he enjoys the way you fit into his arms.

Unsurprisingly, you two stay like that for a while. Fitted against each other in the silence of your cozy bedroom. He sees the top of your head move and he’s suddenly looking into your eyes, pupils blown so wide that your eyes are black. Clark has to bite his lip to keep from smiling at how cute you look. Your eyes flit down to his mouth to see the peek of his fangs that always show, letting out a small breathy ‘oh’ when you do. You’re still reeling in all the best ways as you rest your chin against his chest, unabashedly looking at his handsome face.

Clark raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the phantom hearts in your eyes and the way your small feet are standing on top of his larger ones while you make no attempt to separate your bodies, completely content with his proximity. He likes you so he likes your closeness and he’s even more elated that you seem to like him being so close too. Speaking lowly so he doesn’t disturb you, he checks if you’re still on the planet with him.

“This okay, sweetheart? Y’enjoying yourself?” The petname slips out but you don’t move or rush to correct him as your blood simmers, a numbingly pleasant heat washing over you so strong it’s hard to think. Running your hands in a slow caress up his back, you feel the muscles flex as his arm twitches and a smile grows on your face as you blink dumbly- brain currently taking a break, you mumble sweetly,

“Mmhm, yeah. Never better.”

And it’s true. You’ve never felt this safe, this free with anyone that wasn’t immediate family or your best girl friends. He was touching you and seeing you but you didn’t care because you knew whatever he was seeing and touching, was safe as it would ever be with him.

Clark huffs out a laugh at your belated response, moving one of his hands in a warm caress up your back, feeling you shiver and he bites his lip again. You were so alluring without even having to try and he breathes to reign himself in since he was currently the first and only to have you melting like this from a hug alone. If a hug got you like this he could only imagine how beautifully you’d respond to-

“Um, C-Clark?” Your soft voice brings him back as he hums, flicking his eyes down lazily at you.

“Yeah, baby?” Your sweet little gasp makes him realize that he just called you another nickname but you don’t seem to mind, flustering prettily in his arms. He leans down closer to your face, only to hear you better, eyes patient as he stares at you.

“I know this is supposed to be about me but how do you feel? You’ve been so good with me..I just wanna make sure you’re okay too.” Clark smiles, moved that you’re worrying about him even with all his experience.

“Yeah I feel good but how about you? Want me to let go or we can try something different?” He would’ve asked if you wanted to stop but he was going off your body language and it was telling him distance was the last thing you wanted and he was right as you shook your head before resting your chin back into his chest, looking up at him with those pupil eclipsed doe eyes.

“I feel great but…”, your voice gets smaller as it takes on an almost needy tone before stopping altogether. You snap your face back into his chest and he’s even more curious to get it out of you but you just can’t say it.

“You really don’t need to be embarrassed. Clothed or naked, we all start somewhere”, he whispers against the top of your head, stroking your back soothingly as you try to talk yourself into asking him before you chicken out, “with me you can start wherever you want and you know I’ll never tell. Or make fun of you..”,

His voice is tender with warmness and it turns your reservations to raindrops as you look back into his eyes. Steeling your nerve, you ground yourself with the way you feel in another persons arms for the first time in your life- his arms and decide to go for it.

“You said- we can try something different?” Your heart begins to race again as Clark’s starts to pound. He can’t keep the heat out of eyes as he returns your stare, nodding.

“Yeah. We can do whatever you want.” His breath wafts across your face, forehead resting against yours and the rate at which you find yourself needing him- scares you. You’ve been depraved of this kind of contact to the point of fear since forever but now…

“Then…can we-“, you blink rapidly, not wanting to verbalize it but not wanting to go without even more.

“Can we kiss please?”

Clark has to shut his eyes. You looked so sweet, felt so soft and even though you couldn’t keep the neediness from seeping into your words, you still asked so politely. Blood rushes through his ears as he feels a familiar stirring in his groin, taking a deep breath because it wouldn’t do for him to lose control now, his voice is heady with pure want when he answers,

“F’course. I’d love to kiss, baby.”

Large hands settle around your waist as you get pulled completely flush to him, legs almost intertwining while your pelvises touch; bodies glued together. The languid heat of arousal thrums through you, making your head spin.

Your lips part when Clark presses his forehead more firmly against yours, lighting you from the inside out when he dips his neck to slot his open mouth over yours.

Immediately your chest burns, heart feeling like each pump is gasoline, fueling the fire hes started in you. Clark’s full lips slide against yours, alternating between suckling at your top lip then bottom lip slowly, coaxing you to follow his lead, groaning his approval and the sound turns you up as you press yourself harder against his body. You feel so good you’re thrumming- heat steadily pulsing through you.

Your heads move from how hard you’re kissing, slick sounds coming from your mouths intensifying as you get rougher, delicious shivers all up your spine. Clark presses his lips fully against yours, moving them open wider with his own, hot breaths mingling as he licks hotly against the opening of your mouth. A bolt of pleasure hits you so hard that you gasp, wrenching your mouth off his as you moan- the needy little thing so whiny it makes his cock fatten in his pants as you pant against each others lips. Fuck. He can smell how wet you are. The sweet, heady smell makes his mouth water with him tossing shame clean out the window.

“Can I put my tongue in your mouth? Please, pretty girl?” You move your arms around his neck to get as close as possible, nodding desperately.

“God, yes-” His mouth is back to consuming yours before you can finish. Opening your lips with the force of his swollen ones, he sucks your bottom lip before lapping his tongue into your mouth. You twitch in his hold, even more turned on when he doesn’t have to move to keep your squirming in place, casual show of strength making you lightheaded as he swallows your moans. Wet smacks fill the air, your grip on him tightening when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. You get wetter and he can tell, growling in pleasure as he suddenly lifts you; your legs locking around his waist as he uses his hold on yours to grind you against him. The result is instantaneous. You melt like cotton candy, chest shaking against his from your pleasured moans as your shared spit wets your lips. Still aware of the fact that you need to breathe, Clark pulls away with a suck of your lips- staring at you hungrily with dark eyes.

He can’t even remember when he picked you up but the tiny undulations of your hips let him know it was a welcome decision. You looked so good. Lips puffy n slick, doe eyes teary and blown out, wet as fuck with your hard nipples poking through your top…you could ask him for every one of Saturns rings and he’d get them for you.

Clark takes a deep lungful of your tantalizing scent before he checks on you again.

“How was that, sweetheart? Y’first kiss right?” You nod, cupping his face. You can’t help the way you smooch more pecks onto his pink lips, aching as you answer.

“It was so good”, you drag your nose down his jaw; kissing his ear as you whisper into it, “you feel so good, Clark..”. You have him completely hard at this point, thick and fat as his tip oozes pre when you start to whine. He almost feels bad that you’ve waited so long, being so pent up wasn’t healthy and you deserved to feel good everyday.

“What’s wrong baby?” The low timbre of his voice makes your pulse skyrocket, causing you to absolutely dissolve against him, hips twitching as he helped you rub yourself on him.

“I-I need..-“, you let out a soft cry and he quickly soothes you. Kissing you deeply before pulling away, licking his lips of your taste as he verbalizes exactly what you need.

“Need to cum?”

The heat in your chest blooms up to your face as you nod, suddenly growing shy but still comfortable. You purr as Clark presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, looking at you with pretty lidded eyes.

“Would it be okay if I made you cum princess?”

The utterly wrecked moan that comes out of your mouth has goosebumps scattering up his arms, holding you tighter as you nod vigorously.

“I need words baby”, he whispers. Giving you another kiss to tempt you and it works. He was too irresistible and he knew it.

“Yeah, you can make me cum Clark.” And with that he carries you over to your bed, laying you on the plushness as he takes over your mouth again with a hungry groan, your hands touching everywhere until he pulls away- fangs on display as he smiles making fire sweep through your veins.

Massaging your legs, he rises on his knees- taking off his shirt as your mind checks out from how hot he is, shifting restlessly as the ache in your pussy throbs with the best pain. Whining his name, Clark cooes at you; big hands moving to pull your clothes off. Your nerves are going haywire but you need this- need him to make you feel things, lifting your hips to help him slide your shorts and underwear off, spreading your legs as you let him get a good look at your messy wet hole twitching in need.

Clark swears, hooking his hands under your knees and bending them towards your chest. Exposing you more as he licks his lips, keeping his eyes glued to your cunt.

“Atta girl, jus’ lay there nice n pretty and I’ll give you what you need..”

Part ✌🏽…

[pockystickupyour]

unfiltered, 18+

nerd!armin x reader, modern college au!

part 1 part 2

Inspired by current fanart circulating on tt (yes he has a tongue piercing).

Warnings: Vaginal sex, f!receiving oral, blow job, perversion, slight praise kink, fingering, cervix kissing, dry humping

—————————————————————————

What a bummer.

You’d probably spent 20 minutes looking for him amongst the heaps of people and strobes of light, unable to find a trace. Maybe it was your fault for accepting an invite to someone’s party with the intention of meeting someone else. But, now you were stuck wandering around like a ghost, unable to find either of them.

Being here with Mina would’ve guaranteed you a good time and the urge to call her was growing like the bitter cherry flavouring in your mouth. The sting of regret was settling in your system with each passing minute, that or the effects of whatever drink you had. 

While loosening and tightening the grip around your phone and contemplating whether to actually do something or not, a purple strobe hit you right in the eye, which ironically enough was all you needed to land in a decision. 

You were here after all.

The vibes were decent and you hadn’t been out doing something fun for weeks. Besides, it could be an opportunity to find some new eye candy. So you made your way out to the dance floor, looking to see who was out tonight. 

Your eyes traveled across the room and quickly found who you’d been looking for. You told yourself that downing a shot seemed like an easy way to get some courage, but truthfully? Everything tasted bland and like non-carbonated soda. 

”Jean! I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Did you sound too excited?

He turned around, mullet grazing the nape of his leather jacket as he looked over his shoulder. His eyes turned small as he tried to pick you out in the dim lighting, forming a grimace as he did. 

“Oh. Hey,”

“Uhh Hi? You busy or something?” You didn’t deem yourself the most confident, though you were well aware of the fact that you were a catch, and were kind of underwhelmed by his reaction. 

“Can I help you with anything?” When he finally turned his full body, a tall yet smaller frame revealed beside him. A black haired girl, pretty with a scar on the side of her cheek. 

Oh. 

“No, just wanted to say hi. Hey,” You waved at the girl and she smiled warmly. “Hi, I’m Mikasa.”

”Nice to meet you Mikasa. Well, I’m not gonna bother you any longer.” Jean didn’t answer, only returned his attention back to the girl. 

You brushed his indifference off and continued advancing towards the other side of the vast space that enclosed the party area. Despite the amount of people, many whose shadows very well could be mistaken for another person in the dark, one person stuck out. 

Perhaps it was their green graphic tee that reminded you of a Minecraft creeper, or the thin black frames that covered half of their face. Possibly their timid demeanour that contrasted the white light blaring blindingly behind their silhouette. Or the silver gleam that flashed whenever they lipsynced to the music in the back.

Mostly, it was that you couldn’t shake the familiarity that somehow drew you to them. 

With nothing to lose, or gain for that matter, you made your way to strike up conversation with the mysterious person. 

“I didn’t come with any of my friends either,” 

“Pardon?” Initially, you thought you had approached a girl, but the deep undertone of the single word spoken made you second-guess yourself. The visuals didn’t help either, so you took a step closer.

”Oh sorry, I just kind of assumed that you came alone.” You expressed, and hoped your sincerity was felt through what you said. 

“Feels like it,” he spoke and readjusted his glasses with his pointer. ”Hey, I know you.”

You’d always found it hard to distinguish him from a crowd or in a group because of how little he enjoys taking up space. But, certain gestures and mannerisms made him stand out, like tonight. 

He laughed, no, scoffed. Tauntingly, like you’d said something ridiculous. “Bet you do,”

”Armin?” 

“In the flesh,” you internally cringed when he said that, just as much as you found it funny. 

“Arlert. Majoring in marine biology, minoring in engineering. Likes anime and manga, and PC games,” you started listing off things you’d remembered over the few years you’d known him, which was more than you expected. You had never really spoken to him, but up close he was really cute, and you wondered how you hadn’t noticed before. 

“Didn’t take you for a stalker to be honest,” he was more candid than you thought, and his venomous sarcasm made you laugh. 

“We’ve taken 4 courses together?” 

“Yeah, I know. Haven’t spoken to me during any of them so why now? Did Mikasa ask you to? I saw you two talking,”

Amusement tugged at your lips, apparently he’d been taking notes of things other than whatever your professors were saying. “Didn’t take you for a stalker either,”

”Ha-Ha. Seriously though, I appreciate your concern but I don’t need a babysitter. If anything I was hoping Mikasa or Eren would,” 

You both kept your gazes straight ahead, walls coated purple and watching people eat away each other's faces or getting messed up and stumbling over. Not really either of your scenes, and the music was only getting louder. 

“Armin, no one’s told me to come talk to you. I literally spoke to Mikasa for the first time tonight when I was—“ 

“Looking for Jean? I was wondering how long it would take you to realise,” His voice was soft and mellow, like a pillow dipped in honey or a marshmallow coated in silk. It could distract anyone from the things he was actually getting at. 

“Realise what exactly?” 

His glasses had slid down along his flat nose bridge once again, prompting him to push them up, before he said “Come on, you're smart. You don’t need me to spell it out.”

You sighed, he was right. Jean had only entertained trivial flirting instead of genuine conversations. It was obvious that he was pining for someone else. “If I was him I’d also like Mikasa,”

”I was more so referring to the fact the he’s an ass. In spite of his horse-face,” 

“That too,” He was right again. 

“Hey,” For the first time that night, Armin looked up at you and seemed interested in whatever was about to exit your mouth next. “Do you know somewhere quieter we can go?”

”I think so,” 

You were happy that he showed no aversion to your suggestion. 

”You’ve been living with Eren this whole time?” You asked, dissecting the intricacies of his room as you landed on his bed. 

”Yes, no offense but you’re not really a good stalker.” He smirked and rested his back against his desk, removing his frames and placing them neatly into a maroon casing.

”Clearly not since I didn’t know you were one of those fake-glasses wearers.” The posters around his room were aesthetic, and his shelves were adorned with non-fiction and mangas alike. ”Shojou?” 

He pushed out his desk chair, eyeing his shelves as you spoke. ”Nothing wrong with a little romance, and other things.” 

”Other things?” Everything he said sounded like an inside joke with himself that you had no part of. For all you knew, you could be the joke. 

”That’s what I said yeah,” 

”I understand why Jean liked to beat the shit out of you now, with that smart mouth of yours.” Teasing was your way of testing the waters, and you perceived him to have teased you all night. You just hoped he didn’t take it the wrong way. 

Luckily, he didn’t. He took it surprisingly well. He cackled in a way you’d only seen when he’s been looking on his phone shadily in a corner or talking to Marco. 

It also hinted at another surprise, a metallic one. 

”You have a tongue piercing?!”

He suddenly closed his mouth and was from what you understood, a little embarrassed. 

”You don’t have to get shy,” You tried your best to give an assuring smile, though his ears only burned brighter.

”It was an impulsive decision,” 

He spun around his chair, avoiding your gaze, and you seized the opportunity to take in the rest of his room. ”Is it uncomfortable?”

”Not really. Fun to play around with when I’m bored.” He had a whiteboard and schedule mounted on his wall, with small stickers adorning both. 

”Have you tried kissing with it?” 

He halted his spinning to choke out a ”Sorry?”

”You don’t have to answer, I'm just curious. Bet your romance books don't give tips on that.” 

He got up from his chair and moved towards you on the bed, steady and appearing firmer from above as he approached. 

”I wouldn’t say that it gives tips but,” He pulled down a manga with a male lead full of facial piercings. ”They have sex and they seem happy,” 

”If my boyfriend looked like this I’d be happy too,” you appreciated the panels showcasing the male lead’s feminine beauty yet masculine aura. Similar to Armin.

”You mean like a girl?” He snickered and slumped down next to you by the bed.

”What’s wrong with that? Besides, you and Historia could easily be mistaken for one another.” 

He rested his head against the wall and looked up at the ceiling, brown lashes hitting the high points of his brow bone. ”All blue eyed blonde people look alike,” 

”Is that why you and Annie didn’t work out? Felt like dating your sister?” 

You made Armin laugh again, and it felt like you were collecting metaphorical golden stars each time. ”More like my twin. And I realised I wasn’t getting what I was looking for,” 

Your face took on the look of a pensive one, making Armin wonder what’s gotten you in such puzzlement. ”What’s that?”

”For starters she has no time or energy for relationship related things. I get that she doesn’t like dates and girly stuff but she wouldn’t even do movie nights with me,” 

Armin made himself more comfortable and stretched out his body while leaving enough space for you. ”And she never wanted me to hold her hand or touch her,”

”Not even a kiss?” You asked. 

”Not even a peck.” He breathed out. ”She’s already not an expressive person so you could imagine how many problems that created too,”

”And that’s why you haven’t had a chance to try the piercing out,” 

”I mean, I got it afterwards. Not that it would make a difference, but I’m pretty confident she hates it.” The latter words came out like a whisper, but were just as clear if not clearer than the rest.

”What do you feel like you want from a partner instead then?” Your curiosity was getting the better of you, and the candid questions were fighting their way out. 

”Someone who is reassuring, affectionate. Someone who isn’t afraid of talking or touching or just being normal. Someone who is open to try new things and wouldn’t be disgusted by a stupid tongue piercing,” 

”Sounds like you want someone who’s just a decent person.” You said, thinking about what you’d want as well.

”Sounds like I want you now that I think about it,” He sat up for a moment, though appearing occupied with his thoughts rather than present in his bed with you. 

”Sorry I didn’t—” He closed his eyes tightly, trying to formulate a smart way to undo what he’d previously said. ”I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t want to make things weird, I’ve actually been wanting to talk to you. Not because of that, sorry,”

You put your hand on his knee and rubbed it lightly for a second, ”Don’t worry Armin. I don’t find it weird. I think you’re cute for what it’s worth,”

He laid back down, feeling the warmth of your palm as a marking on his leg still, before saying ”I think you’re pretty too.”

”Really?”

”Ever since you sat in front of me freshman year because you didn’t want Mr Smith to see me on Crunchyroll instead of doing his assignments,” He blurted out.

”I thought you didn’t notice that,” you smiled to yourself, glad he remembered something you’d suppressed deep within your memories.

Armin made a sound of relief, ”’Course I did! The one time you didn’t he caught me and made me write an essay by hand.” 

”Well I’m happy to have been of service,” 

”You know,” He sat up once again, this time to get out of the bed and head towards his wardrobe. ”If you really wanna be of service you should,” 

He made a motion with his hand, folded in a fist and moving it back and forth, as his tongue repeatedly poked the inside of his cheek. 

At first you didn’t understand what he was doing and wondered if it was some anime thing, but the moment you realised you wanted to bury your face in his blanket. Given what he was signaling, you didn’t know if you could trust the cleanliness of it though.

”Relax, I’m just messing with you.” He pulled off his green tee and the black long sleeve underneath, to reveal an impressively toned body, especially his abs.

He folded them neatly before putting on a loosely fitted white tshirt. Classy and simple. ”Armin,”

He eyed you suspiciously, then made his way to the bed and made sure to keep a safe distance. ”I’ve always wonder what it’s like to kiss someone with a tongue piercing,” 

His face flushed pink, probably three different shades. Just like he deserved. ”I’m messing with you,”

He covered his face briefly before rubbing his eyes and chuckling dryly. ”Yeah? I think you do.”

”What?”

”I think you do wonder what it’s like.” He said flatly, like the most serious thing in the world. ”In fact, I think you noticed it before and made a whole plan to end up here in my bed.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, you could’ve been in your own bed by now. Talking to Armin was a mere chance.

”Don’t act surprised, you even started asking me about my relationship to gage my availability, my wants,” 

He took up more space, entrapping you in his presence, then proceeded to say. ”My needs.”

You stared at each other, intensely, like you were playing a mind game of some kind. Throwing darts at each other on a psychological play field.

”Armin, what are you talking about?”

”I don’t know. But I saw the way you were undressing me with your eyes just now. And I know I’m not crazy,”

So what if you’d given him some eyes? He was already undressing. ”There was nothing to undress, Armin. You were already half naked.”

”Bet you wish it was more than half. I say, ¾? You seem like you like boxers,” 

”I do.” 

”Calvin Klein?” 

”Anything nice and neat really. Regardless, that has nothing to do with you.” His waistband had been peeking the whole time, why did he have to point it out?

”Isn’t that a double standard?” Armin spoke, soft and sharp, infiltrating your thoughts like a corrupt file. 

”I see what you’re doing.” You called him out, earning you another conniving and half-hearted smile from the one and only. 

”Enlighten me. What am I doing?” 

”You’re trying to make me seem like a pervert.” 

”Don’t really have to try, do I?” It was easy, a witty comeback was like bread and butter for Armin. 

You rolled your eyes, unable to tell if you were enjoying or feeling patronized by the way he was talking to you. ”See?”

”Maybe I am. Or, maybe I’m just trying to convince you to want me as much as I want you right now.” The indifference in his tone made it seem like he was being sarcastic, but the softness in his eyes told a different story.

”You don’t have to convince me,” You said, the most honest thing you felt you’d said all night.

”It’s the boxers, isn’t it? Either way I want you to say it,” He was making it harder for you. Harder to speak, harder to think.

”How about,” You put a hand on his chest lightly pushing him back and steadied yourself on the bed. ”I show you instead?”

”I’ve always been more or a visual learner,” 

The second you lowered yourself to place your lips on his, Armin tilted his head up to meet you halfway. He tasted like cherries, real cherries, not the artificial flavouring that polluted the punch downstairs, and a hint of chapstick.

His lips were soft, plush and warm, and it felt like two polar ends met when the cold metal ball swiped across your lip as you kissed. You almost had to suppress the urge to bite it or hold it between your teeth. 

You placed your legs on either side of him and his hands automatically landed on your hips, ready to hold you down as he bucked his hips up. 

It was easy to get overstimulated by the pressure from below and the sensory experience you’d gotten a taste of. 

You broke your kiss and hovered above his mouth as you grinded down on him, feeling him grown beneath you, through thin layers of fabric.

The sounds that were leaving him were, treacherous and lewd, and you loved it. Sweet and sinful sounds and mantras of your name followed by, ”I need to put it in, can I please put it in? ” 

In the neediest and softest yet most demanding cadences you’ve ever heard. 

”Armin you feel so good,” He smiled against your skin, and swept the metal ball across your neck as he pressed kisses and nips along the landscape of your throat and chest. 

”Can I take this off?” He asked, but was too eager to wait for your answer as he rid your shirt up. 

”No bra? Can’t tell if you cared so little about Jean’s attention or were too excited to let me see them on full display like this.”

A hand snaked its way up your waist to your chest, while the other ran a deft finger along the lining of your underwear. Your skin flexed as a response to the tickling sensation.

In response you ran your hands further down towards his stomach and pants, alternating between palming him and grinding.

”Wanted me to put my mouth to use?” You panted out, unimpressed by how low your stamina had gotten. 

”Only if I can return the favor.”

You took that as a yes and placed yourself by the foot of the bed. You pulled down his sweatpants and were greeted with how tight his boxers were hugging him. 

You looked up at his flushed face, lips bright pink, as you pulled them down. It didn’t take much for you to get to work, holding him and stroking as you took as much as you could in your mouth. 

Your hands grabbed his thighs which flexed and were more well-trained than you’d anticipated. He caressed your hair, stroking your cheek with the light of his fingers and tried to tell you how good it felt in between moans and bitten-back whimpers. 

”You feel so good, just want you to take all of me—”

Whenever you licked or sucked a little extra you could feel him struggle and his legs become wobbly next to you. He came close to finishing but immediately pulled you off of him.

”Sorry I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I just want to return the favor first,”

You felt comfortable with Armin, even though your first real conversation was a few hours ago. But you didn’t feel that comfortable.

”You don’t have to be scared. I’ll take good care of you, I promise. Just relax,”

You switched places and he placed a pillow near the small of your back to get you into a more eased position. ”Trust me,”

He moved himself to kneel in between your legs, most intimate parts still covered. He ran his warm fingers up your calves and along your thighs. Teasing the inner parts of your skin with trails of wet kisses.

He lifted your skirt up, and looked to you for a moment. “Is something wrong?”

“No, just wasn’t expecting you to be this wet already. All for me?” 

He pulled your underwear down and moved your legs apart, warm breath fanning you like feathers. He started slow, just kissing and petting. 

Then, swiftly motioned with his fingers that knew exactly where and how to touch. It already felt amazing, like you could reach over the edge like this. 

However, once he pushed a finger inside, a whole new world opened up. If he hadn’t done anything with Annie, you really wondered where he’d learned all like this.

His tongue and piercing were the cherries on top. Like when you kissed, the heat of his mouth paired with the cold steel that pressed and powered against you made your knees weak and your voice collapse. 

Armin didn’t have to ask because he already felt it could by the way you were squeezing around his fingers and gripping his hair and bed sheets. 

It nearly pushed him over the edge too and he had to remove a hand from you to stroke himself. 

What really set you over the edge was when he started moaning into you. Deep into you, so much so that you could feel the vibrations in your walls more than you could hear them in your ears.

You could only muster an “Armin!” before the moment crescendoed. 

“I’d love to do this again but I really need to be inside you right now,”

He got up from the bed and in your hazy state there was little you could do but allow him to adjust the pillows again. 

He wasted little time putting it in, only rubbed himself with little friction against you before sliding it in. 

You were a perfect fit, and for a moment Armin wondered if you were meant to be together since he could practically feel himself melt into you. 

His strokes were deep and slow, at first, hitting your hidden spots that your own fingers could only dream of. 

His whimpers didn’t make it easier, but his groans just forced you to wrap around his waist and try to push him in more.

“You look so pretty like this,” He leaned down to kiss you, and it got intense the moment your lips brushed. “I would do this all night and all day with you if I could,”

He picked up his pace, still able to manage to speak between the strokes. “I’d kiss you all over,” He pecked your cheek and jawline. 

“And I’d touch you just like this,” His hand found its way to your chest once again and pressed down and moulded, sadistically playing with your sensitivity.

“And”, he almost pulled entirely out before thrusting in you so deep and hard that you felt it in your soul. “I’d be the only to to make you feel this good,” 

He pressed down on your lower stomach, which evidently caused you to spasm around him before you reached another high. Barely able to make out a word. 

“Fuck,” You both said it, you loudly and him under his breath. Mantras of swear words and borderline love confessions kept spilling out of both of you.

“I’m gonna coat you all over,” he pulled out, just in time to release a load over your stomach and chest. 

“Sorry for messing up your top. You can wear one of mine but I can’t say I’d prefer it.” 

He collapsed beside you for a moment, kissing you on the forehead and spooning you to the best of his abilities, then moved up to get a towel. 

“I’ll clean you up real nice. Should I get you some food?”

Your legs still felt highly unstable so you didn’t trust yourself to do anything except put on one of Armin’s shirts, which you think he chose on purpose for being 90% see-through. 

“Do you have popcorn? I’d love to watch a movie.”

Armin smiled, genuine and without any sign of patronage or sarcasm. “I’ll be right back,” 

[cregansdingdong]

ʀᴇꜱᴛʟᴇꜱꜱ.

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: NSFW, p-in-v penetration, swearing, dirty talk, sofa sex, quickie that became a longie, making-out, dry humping, Jace is desperate and he needs to take his frustrations out somehow, theres a brief pussy slap bc it felt right, cream-pie at the end, fully clothed raw dogging; They’re betrothed and this takes place at the start of the DoD, I didn’t make any other specifications cause they were too busy fucking. This is very heavily inspired by his scene in the season finale :3

Hot stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

He’d been pacing in his chambers for the better part of an hour with only his thoughts as company. Jacaerys felt useless, to say the least. Useless, needlessly coddled, suffocating between the walls of Dragonstone. He wanted to be of help to his Queen, to fight for the realm on dragonback against the Greens as was his destiny. His calling. Instead, he was made to spectate at council meetings and wait endlessly for a moment that would never come, it seemed. The ‘what ifs’ kept him spiraling, uncomfortable in his own mind, and he found his feet moving before he could consider a destination. He knew where to go. It was too easy not to. And she wouldn’t mind. His hesitance sent a bit of doubt down to his stomach on whether or not he really wanted to bother her, but she would’ve figured out his sour mood anyway. It was better to face up to himself than keep it locked away inside. The hastening of his footsteps echoed off the spacious corridors, and as if she had sensed he was on his way to her, the doors to her chambers were left ajar—just enough for him to see her peaceful face trained down on her book.

His knuckles gently tapped against the threshold, announcing his presence as he entered. His betrothed glances up, looking twice as she realizes who her visitor is. “Good morrow.” She hummed, legs tucked up and under her comfortably on the divan. His pretty brown eyes took in her room, a place he found himself in considerably often. Depending on the circumstances, obviously. And the hour. Everything was kept neat and tidied, but he could still see the traces of her, where she’d made a sort of home for herself. Books and tomes stacked three or four each on various surfaces, the tea she’d left nearly untouched on the nightstand. He loved it. “Good morrow.” Jace responded, gently shutting the door behind him, head tilted back against it for a moment, unable to hide the frustration that had grown in his own chambers. He said nothing. Unsurprisingly, the words caught in his throat on the way out.

She pats the spot beside her on the divan, the book not yet closed, but her attention had shifted from the pages to his furrowed brows. He obeys, crossing the room to sit by her without second thought. His mind had quieted, at least. Their shoulders brush together lightly as he finally manages to say something else. “What are you reading?” She could tell already that something was off with him, but still indulges in his question, turning it over to show him the cover. Something vaguely historic, he catches, but he was too distracted by her soft hands clutching the book to see much else. “I figured I’d better read a bit more to catch up with the talk of war. This one isn’t entirely as dull as I thought it was going to be, thankfully.” With that, she closes it shut, putting it down on the stand beside the divan, shifting her body just enough to face him. “How are you faring, Jace?”

“I’m well enough.” He muttered, leaning back slightly. It was a lie and she saw right through him without much else. “I just…my mother is worried. She’s trying to hide it behind orders but it's catching up to us now. All this.” He was gesturing to the war, of course, fingers tapping in his lap anxiously. “And I can’t help her. She won’t let me help. I don’t know what to do. I’d much rather be out there, making a real difference to tip the scales, and instead I’m stuck here at Dragonstone doing nothing but waiting.” His betrothed nodded along as she listened, digesting his admittance before considering her own words. “You’re restless, dragon.” There was a truth to it, despite the statement mostly being a gentle tease. The corners of his lips lift just a little at the nickname. “I can’t help it. I feel antsy knowing I have the capabilities to do something, and I’m not allowed to.”

“We’re still in the beginning of this war—and you’re the heir, Jace. Even if there was a battle taking place just outside of Dragonstone, you and the Queen must stay here.” He’d heard that a thousand times before from his mother and the members of her small council, and a thousand times he felt undignified—but hearing it from the lips of his bride-to-be, there was no malice or taunt or scold behind her tone. She was reminding him of a painful candor. His safety mattered. “I feel powerless.” He admits, frustration accompanying the embarrassment that came with the insecurity. “I feel like a little boy begging to add his opinion during council meetings. They respect me because I’m the Prince of Dragonstone, her son, not because I’m good at my responsibilities. What good am I in this war if I can’t help my mother get her throne back?” The last few words exited his mouth with bite, self-loathing and irritation cutting him like a double-edge sword.

“You’re wrong about that.” She reaches out to take his arm, her hand wrapping around his bicep as she intertwines their fingers with the other. “Your living and breathing is the strongest power of all. You’re strengthening your mother’s claim by doing just that. I know you want to fight, to do something that matters. But true power is not just grandiose displays of strength or victories in battle, it's also purpose. The meanings behind our choices. People are raising the Queen’s banners—and those are your banners too. They want to fight for you as much as they do for her, because the two of you are the rightful heirs to the throne. The Greens can try as they wish to Usurp what belongs to the Queen, but their actions are unjustified. King Viserys made his choice and he stuck to it until his passing. That is power.”

“All this book reading is making you wiser than me.” He grumbled, although there wasn’t any malice behind it. “I’d still rather be swinging a sword at some idiot knight instead of sitting within these walls looking pretty—but I understand that you’re right.” He concedes, a small smile gracing his handsome face. She chuckles at that. “I’m sure you’d be pretty no matter what, even muddied and bloodied on the battlefield.” She sighs though, glancing out at the daylight swarming into the room through the window, hand still nestled in his. The gentle touch sent goosebumps up his neck, tightening his trousers with every second her warmth continued to seep into his leather doublet. “The meeting is likely starting soon.” Her voice interrupts his thoughts of nipping at the supple flesh at her neck.

Jace groaned aloud, head dropping back against the divan in pure annoyance, good mood spoiled at the reminder. “I’d honestly rather get swallowed by dragonfire than sit in that room for the next three hours, listening to those old fools drabble on about who knows what.” He turns his body—not unlike a roll—to shield his face on her shoulder, unwilling to part from her. “I want to stay here with you, alone and in peace as we were.” She snorts lightly as he inhales deeply, arm snaking around her waist in want. “The Queen will be expecting us, my prince.” She looks down at his dark curls, twirling one around her finger. His breeches certainly tighten now. “...My interests are elsewhere.” He murmurs, annoyed at the thought of being pulled away, face inching closer to her neck until his lips press against her smooth skin. “Jace.” She warned, although there wasn’t as much resistance in her tone as he’d expected, and a quiet sigh flows past her lips. “We can’t be late. That’s disrespectful to the council members.”

“The denial of devouring you because of those ancient rats only serves to make me want to go even less.” He shifts in place, head still dipped by her jugular, hands bracing the back of the divan with newfound purpose, trapping her between the corner of it and his own scalding body. She gasps as his teeth sink into her skin, earning a low sound of pleasure from his throat. “We can be quick if the meeting matters to you that much.” He mutters against her, a slight tease as he nips at her harder this time, his nose nudged into her jaw. “I don’t need to wait until nightfall to make you see the stars, my Lady.” Her remaining restraint crumbles at that, hands coming to undo the lacings of his breeches. “..Fine. But you can’t touch my hair.” He seemed like he wanted to protest at the idea of limited touching, but that gleam in her eye meant she was serious, and it was likely they’d miss the meeting as a whole trying to figure out how to braid her hair that way again. “Okay. Deal.”

His mouth returns to her throat, biting and sucking greedily with reverence, his hands finding purchase at her hips to start bunching her skirts up. “Jace..” She exhales, shuddering at the way he was marking her skin—he wasn’t leaving any stones unturned, and they were going to show. Her fingers plucked at the lacings with success, tugging him closer to her now by the waistline of his breeches. His fists clench around the fabric of her gown, a deep grunt echoing from his chest as his clothed cock pressed into her plush inner thigh. “Gods—I need more.” Jace retracts himself from her neck, pulling her body down the divan, just enough to lay her flat on her back. She wraps her thighs around his hips, a strangled moan failing to come out as he kisses her, pushing himself against her core. He rolled his hips down with a fury, nothing deliberate about it—just to feel something, to get out the pent up desperation he’d felt for weeks since his return.

His tongue explores her mouth with an eagerness that made them both flush, using her skirts as purchase to buck himself harder into her cunt. “You make me this way.” He grunts against her lips. His stomach was already tightening with every bit of friction they could get. “Do you understand? You’re just so pretty and you smell divine—fuck.” Jace grits his teeth, biting at her lower lip. She was a panting mess beneath him, unable to do anything other than take it, digging her nails into his shoulders to cope with how good it felt. His weight pinned her down deliciously, hips still incessant and rubbing against her with enough force to make the divan squeak. It was like music to his ears. “I’m already close just feeling your sweet cunt, my love.” Jace pulls up her gown a bit more, almost up to her ribs, to watch the tent in his pants glide up her glistening folds like a man bewitched. “You need to see it–” He grunts, bracing himself on the armrest behind her head, lifting himself just enough to make a space between their bodies. The sight was a wicked one.

“Look at the way you take me.” He urges, voice hoarse this time, eyes meeting hers from above. “Soaked enough to wet my breeches—and I’m not even inside of you yet.” Her nails dig harder into him, a breathless whine at the disbelief of it all. “Please Jace!” She mewls, shivering, and he grins, snapping his hips against hers with reverence. “Please what, my love? Use your words.” His tone was mocking, teasing, and eager to make her squirm. The quiet shuffling of their clothes was driving her to insanity—and she wanted more than anything to pull it all off, but they had places to be very soon. “I need—Gods! I need you, Jace!” He was more than pleased by that, and he somehow carries enough restraint to stop himself from finishing right there. Jacaerys pulls himself back to tug down his breeches down just enough, his cock momentarily springing back to hit his stomach.

She melts at the sight of his tip—red and leaking shiny precum back toward his shaft. He was the perfect size for her; not too big or too small, and pretty just like the rest of him. Jace hisses quietly as the sensitivity hits him, dipping himself between her folds just to savor the moment. “Mmm look at your pretty cunt, my love. So beautiful.” He murmurs, his own thighs trembling as he slides his shaft through your slick. “Thighs up, sweet girl.” Her eyes roll back as his tip presses into her little bud, the motion agonizingly slow, and she nearly hadn't heard him. She braces her thighs to her chest as much as her bunched up gown would allow, gaze locked on Jace's angled face that was furrowed in concentration. She watches, face reddened, as he spits down onto himself, lubricating the way even though it probably wasn't needed with how soaked she was. Suddenly, his palm comes down on her clit, surprising her with equal amounts of pain and pleasure—she nearly came with a meek gasp of his name, inadvertently yanking his hair. “Jace!”

“Sorry. Couldn't help myself.” He grins, lips meeting hers in a sweet peck. “I want you to look at me when I slip it, love—look nowhere else but right here.” As he guides his tip inside, her breath hitches, captivated by the stretch of him and the glossy brown eyes staring down at her, hazed with lust. A growl erupts from his throat, feeling suffocated now by her walls, and he couldn't get enough. Jace wasn't one to swear often in front of his wife-to-be, but the obscenities flew from his mouth like she was his prayer, sinking himself slowly inch-by-inch. Not that his betrothed was in any better condition. She was clawing at him now, whining and squirming uncontrollably at the delectable sting that came with taking Jace. It hurt so good, and she was sure she'd throw a fit if he dared to pull out for whatever reason. Meeting be damned. Seated fully in her hot cunt, Jacaerys grips the back of her right thigh, pacing himself to allow her to adjust first.

They wait in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, no noise in the room other than their soft pants, and a few breathless giggles as Jace shields her eyes from the attacking sunlight. Silently, she cues him to continue. “Good girl.” He murmurs, starting slowly with gentle strokes that make her stomach warm. “Taking me so well, my love.” He hovered over her still, his other hand braced against the armrest as he watched himself disappear inside of her, a shiver rolling down his spine. “So good.” She mewls, leaking around his cock. Jace leans his head down to connect their lips again, tongue darting into her mouth like he owned her, his free hand taking a greedy handful of her breast through the gown. Moans swallowed down between kissing and breathing, the only sounds that could be heard were the chirping birds and the vulgar slapping of skin as the pace quickened. She could only hope no one would come looking for them—or walk down the corridor even. She couldn't recall Jace locking the door behind him. “I'm close—” He grunts, pulling back from her lips to rock his hips with fervor. “I'm so fucking close, love.”

The divan beneath them was far more noisy now than it had been when they were grinding. Jace had half a mind to let the damned thing break, especially with how tight she squeezed around him, sucking up every inch he provided. Outside, the bells of Dragonstone rang, signaling high noon was upon them—Gods, the meeting. “We need to hurry up!” She pants, thigh hooking around him, just as eager to come. “You promised this would be quick!” Irritation bubbles up in his stomach, and Jace gathers her in his arms, fed up with the thought of having to sit through yet another council meeting. “You want me to hurry up?” He grunts, although it came out as a hiss more than anything, his left foot planting firmly on the floor beside the divan. “Fine.” She couldn't make herself regret her demand even if she tried. Jace stood up straight as a board, his sweet girl being gripped by her gown as he fucked up into her with reckless abandon. She couldn't even remember what it felt like to breathe when her release came, senses flooding with pleasure like she'd been numb her entire life. His cock was hitting that spot like a bullseye, not stopping even after she started yanking on his hair from the overstimulation.

“Do you like it when I hurry, love?” He rasped breathlessly by her ear, one arm around her middle now while his right hand cradled the back of her neck. “You certainly like when I take out all my frustrations on your pretty cunt—Gods, I'm coming. I'm fucking coming sweet girl.” Jace chokes, exhaling sharply through his nose as his hips began to stutter, losing his brutal pace. “Can I come inside of you? Please?!” The beg falling from his plush lips sent a thrill down her spine, and she moaned out her agreement even after he asked twice for confirmation. That's all it takes for Jace to press her into the divan again, fucking her hard, fast, and sloppy, his body laying over hers in the desperation of chasing his release. He buries himself against her chest, coming deep within her as a long, drawn out groan escapes him. The relief was instantaneous; anxiety gone, frustration fucked out of him, and only bliss was left behind. Balls deep, he couldn't tell where she began and he ended. Silence. Rapid breaths. Stilled hips, other than an occasional twitch as they reeled from their orgasms. He lifts his face from her chest weakly, a lazy, sated smile gracing his handsome features. “Sweet girl..” He starts. Her eyes flick up to look at him, equally as spent and satisfied. “Mmhm?”

“I think we're late for the council meeting.”

[noctiva]

Clouded By The Smoke

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW]

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WC: 5.4k

Summary: No matter what you do, you just always find yourself crawling back to him - just the way he likes it.

CW: 18+ content, explicit sexual content, toxic relationships, dealer!Toby, drugging, recreational drug use, drugs other than weed lol, intoxication, dubcon, wet and messy, biting and marking, unsafe sex, creampie, power dynamics, dom/sub undertones, masochistic tendencies, lowkey sadism, dacryphilia, free use if you squint, hair pulling, overstimulation, codependency, established relationship, but its horrible, ‘i can make him worse’ fr fr, Toby’s an asshole, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms (female), lowkey hurt no comfort, like a sprinkle of angst, they’re horrible for each other

Reminder to separate reality from fiction! Acts written here aren’t meant to be encouraged or romanticized - be kind to yourself!

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NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

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You can’t even count the amount of times you’ve found yourself in this exact same situation.

Sprawled out on Toby’s bed, hair fanned out in a halo around your head, limbs feeling light and loose as your hazy eyes stare up at the ceiling. Stripped out of your hoodie because you had started to sweat, one of Toby’s old t-shirts and a pair of sweats hanging loosely off of your body.

You can hear him beside you, sitting on the floor, back rested up against his bed as he packs another bowl for himself - glass clinking as he taps the side of it with his lighter. You had tried to keep up with him, you always do, and that’s a common mistake you always make. You’d think you would’ve learned by now. Toby lived for this shit. Breathed in more weed smoke than pure oxygen, fully functional on an amount that had you near brainless. You’re hazy, loose, body somehow feeling both light and heavy at the same time as you sink into his sheets - counting each crack in the ceiling to give your mind something to focus on.

You had met him months ago, and it had started out as innocently as it could with the nature of your relationship. Your old dealer stopped selling, and the dispensary shit was too expensive for you to justify. You needed something good, but also affordable. That’s where Toby came in. Introduced by a friend of a friend of a friend, you didn’t know anything about him when you first met up - but you also didn’t need to. This wasn’t a friendship, this was a transactional relationship. Meeting for mere moments at a time, counting the bills you gave him before slipping a little plastic baggie into your coat pocket. He didn’t say much, didn’t linger. Just gave you what you needed, then gave you a slight wave before disappearing off again.

And it went on like that for a while. Meeting up with him every week, handing him cash, getting a nice chunk of kush in exchange.

Until one day, he offered more.

“Got some new shit.” He muttered after stuffing your cash into his back pocket. “You can try it, i-if you want.”

“I don’t have any more money.” You had told him. “I only brought enough to cover my pickup.”

“No charge. I-It’s on me.” He had smiled at you, eyes crinkling at the corners as he tilted his head to the side. “Least I could do. Y-You’re a loyal customer.”

And that, was the catalyst. You had accepted his offer. Let him lead you away to some shitty, beaten down apartment not too far from your meetup spot. You let him smoke you out, let him pack you bowl after bowl, clouding the air of his room with smoke so thick it made your eyes burn. Watched him grow looser, lighter, as you did the exact same. Got so giggly and pliant, eyes drooping as your lips wrapped loosely around a joint you definitely didn’t need.

You let him get closer. Let him join you on the bed. Let him fuck you. You wondered if that was his entire plan, when he invited you over. But, the weed was good and the sex was even better, so there were no complaints on your end as your body arched into his - skin slick with sweat as his hips met yours.

After that, it became a common occurrence. You didn’t even pay anymore. Not in the traditional sense. You just showed up, looked cute as he fed you drugs, then spread your legs when he asked for it. Degrading? Definitely. Demoralizing? Probably. But he felt so good that you couldn’t bring yourself to think too deep into it.

So you kept coming back. Over and over and over again. That’s why you were here right now - not because he had asked you, but because you had knocked on his door. “Feelin’ it?” His voice is thickened by smoke when he speaks to you next, tilting his head back to look at you before he breathes out a thick cloud.

“Yeah.” You breathe back out, lazily directing your gaze back over to him. Breathing heavy, skin feeling tingly. “Shits strong.”

“You-You would think that.” Toby rolls his eyes, setting his bong on the ground next to him before swivelling his body around - peering up at you from the floor as he rests his arms on the mattress. “Fuckin’ lightweight. You’d th-think your tolerance woulda gone up by now.” His eyes are fixated on you, the sight of you nearly limp, just absolutely sinking into his sheets. He smirks to himself, reaching up to pull his goggles out of his hair and set them on the ground as well. “How many t-times have I smoked you out now?”

“I dunno.” You giggle back to him, before hauling your weighted body onto your side so that you can look at him better. “A bunch.”

“D-Don’t even know?” Toby raises an eyebrow, his eyes glazed over as he gazes up at you. “Weed’s fuckin’ with y-your head, darlin’. I oughta cut you off.”

“You won’t” Your tone is light, but you say it as a certainty.

And you’re right.

“Yeah, I won’t.” Toby hums back to you, his lip stretched into a sickly amused little smile. Words dripping with that honey sweet cockiness that made your knees weak every time. Voice as thick and rich as molasses, sticking to your ears and coating your every thought. “Why w-would I? Losing what? A couple grams of profit just to ha-have this dumb little doll in my bed?” You narrow your eyes at him, and his grin only widens. “That’s a-a win in my books.”

“You’re horrible.” You scoff, eyebrows wrinkling together. And he is, he’s the worst, but that hadn’t stopped you from getting close. Hadn’t stopped you from seeking him out.

“You love it.” You did. You didn’t even have to say it. He could see it in your foggy eyes, that infatuation that ran deep. And was it cruel, that he indulged you? Was it sick of him to keep feeding you substances that got you loopy, just because he liked to watch your inhibitions crumble away? Probably, but he’d have to be a much better man to care. “You should let me give you mo-more.”

“More?” You scoff. “Toby, if I smoke any more I’m probably gonna green out.”

“Not weed.” Toby snickers softly, raising an eyebrow as he fishes around in the pocket of his hoodie. “I sell o-other shit, you know. Expensive shit.” He lifts his hand, producing a dime bag containing a few pills you don’t recognize. “Bet they’d do you re-real good right now.”

And you’re definitely intrigued, but not enough to not ask questions.

“What is it?” You inch a little closer, your body sliding against his sheets as you creep over to the edge of the bed. He can see the curiosity in your eyes, and he knows he’s got you. That’s where it always starts, after all.

“Does it ma-matter?” He opens the baggie, eyes on you the entire time he drops two pills onto his palm. “It’ll make you feel g-good. Just trust me.”

“Trust you?” You raise an eyebrow, eyes flickering between the pills and his face. “You know you’re not exactly a trustworthy person, right?”

“And yet you keep c-coming back.” He snorts, his gaze leaving yours to pinch one of the pills between his fingers. “Watch.” He pops the pill in his mouth and swallows it. No hesitation, no fear. Not even needing water. Just throwing it back like it was nothing more than a vitamin, his confidence making your heart leap. “My shits clean, you know th-that. Wouldn’t give you anything I wouldn’t take myself.”

It’s a sound argument, for you at least. If it were dangerous, he wouldn’t have swallowed it so confidently. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have even offered to you.

“What’s it gonna do?” And yet you’re leaning forwards, making your intentions clear as your eyes stay fixed on the little pill still resting in his palm.

He doesn’t answer directly, just picks the pill up then leans towards you. His free hand cupping your jaw, squeezing it with a pressure that leaves you with no choice but to part your lips.

“Already t-told you.” He murmurs back to you. “Make you f-feel good.”

And like always, you let him. Part your lips, stick your tongue out, let him place the pill upon it. Feeling it dissolve a little when it hits your saliva, before you close your mouth and swallow it back. Trusting him, like you always do - even when you definitely shouldn’t. “Atta girl.” His fingers trail down your jawline, his touch just barely there - ghosting over your skin before he tucks a a few strands of hair behind your ear. “You just ss-swallowed $50, by the way.” He chuckles softly. “You should feel lucky you’re g-gettin’ freebies just because I like you.”

“You like me?” You ask softly, too high to even notice the shift as Toby moves towards you - oblivious until he’s lying right next to you. “Or do you just like what I give you?”

“What you give m-me?” Toby snorts softly, before reaching out to grasp your waits softly - tugging your pliant body right up close to his. “Don’t go treatin’ me l-like a charity case now.” Fingers digging into your skin, slipping under your shirt to feel it bare. “It’s real e-easy to find a junkie slut, you know.” Hands skirting under your clothes like he had the right, because he did. Because this body was his, just as much as it was yours. “I like you. Pretty little thing. So easy and ss-sweet for me.”

You can’t even refute him, because you knew he was right. You were easy. You had been easy. Letting him fuck you the first time he brought you home, letting him fuck you up time and time again. Just like you were right now.

Tilting your head to the side when he nudges his face into your neck, eyes fluttering when his lips part again your skin. Licking, biting, teeth sinking in deep. Breathing ragged and uneven, already panting against you and he’s barely even done anything yet. Pulling you in closer, flush against him - one hand snaking up to grasp at your tits as his leg lifts to hook over yours. And you’re melting. Brain fuzzy, body feeling gooey has his hands roam your skin. It feels right, just the slightest touches sending your nerves into a frenzy.

You can’t think, but that’s alright, thats how he liked you. Barely even able to speak, just murmuring out soft little whimpers and moans as he left his mark on you. The air is just as hazy as your mind is, the scent of smoke swirling together with his cologne to leave you even dizzier than you already are. And so, it’s not long until you’re sinking into the feeling completely.

Hands coming up to lazily snake into his hair, tugging on it gently as pulling his head upwards so that you can slot your lips with his. Slick, messy, uncoordinated - perfect. A one track mind, hellbent on getting you bare for him again as he panted into your mouth, drool seeping from off of his tongue and onto yours, tainted with the chemical taste of whatever the fuck you had just taken. Pulling you in like he was trying to consume you, and maybe he was. He knew you’d let him if that was his intent.

You don’t remember getting your shirt off, don’t remember getting his off, and you barely even register it when he rolls you both over so that his body’s pinning you to the sheets. But soon enough, you’re chest to chest, bare skin against bare skin, sweat mixing with his as he sinks his teeth into your neck. “So f-fuckin’ pretty.” Murmured against your skin, greedy hands already slipping down your abdomen to tug at the waistband of your sweats. “You’re mine, right?”

Probably? Maybe? You didn’t really know what Toby was to you. Probably just a drug in itself.

And yet,

“Yeah.” You gasp out, hips bucking towards his touch. An invitation for more. To strip you completely like he had done so many times. “I’m yours.”

“Damn right, you are.” He sounds ecstatic when he says it, feral in a way that should probably scare you and yet it doesn’t. Slurred and sloppy, hazy and unrestrained - you love him like this. Just as much as an enabler as he was. Dragging each other down, and having a damn good time while doing it. “No one else could m-make you feel like this, right?” Your pants come off in a swift move, somehow co-ordinated though his limbs felt heavy. Your panties follow suit rather quickly, and yet you don’t even squirm - worse, you let your thighs fall open on instinct. “You need me, right? You n-need me.” He’s downright begging you, his voice quivering on the edges of his words as he nuzzles against your jaw - so hot you can feel it radiating off of him, feeling absolutely smothered as he presses against you more. Fingers swiping against your slick, you’re reeling from how quickly you’ve found yourself here. How easily he’s slipped himself between your thighs once more - like that was where he belonged.

“Yeah, I need you.” Your chest heaving against his, feeling the vibrations fizzle through you as he lets out a soft hum. Lips parting to lick the sweat off of your skin, his thumb lazily playing with your clit as you squirmed so pathetically against him. He knew how you liked it. Slow and steady, the drugs always got you so sensitive so you could barely even handle more. And though he loved turning you into a teary, overstimulated mess, being gentle is what had you sticking around. Knowing he’d take care of you. That he’d never give you more than you could take - in every sense of the word. “Fuck- Toby,” Hips bucking up towards him, just feeling yourself grow wetter as he rolled your clit under the pad of his finger, pleasure sparking up your spine and making you shiver. “I need you-“ Meaning it more this time, moaning it out desperately, pulling on his hair so tightly you know he’d be wincing if he could feel it.

“Yeah, I-I know you do.” He’s gentle as he slips a finger inside you, shoulders jerking when he feels how wet you are already. How your tight heat wrapped around one digit like you were just made to take him. “That’s why you keep coming back, r-right?” He’s pumping it into you slowly, teeth dragging against your skin all the while. Biting a path from your jaw to your collarbone, making sure you bruise. Wanting you to see it all the next day, when you were sober. A reminder of who you gave yourself to. Who you really belonged to at the end of the day. “Can’t-Can’t live without this. Without me.” Crooking his finger just right, having memorized the placement of your g-spot ages ago now. Moaning into your shoulder right along with you when you absolutely crumble beneath him, relishing in the way your cunt clenches around him in reward for his efforts. “Mine. You a-always will be.”

It almost sounds like a threat, and maybe it was. Maybe you should know better, than to keep adding ruin to the wreckage every single time you walked up the pathway to his house. But you didn’t. He had wiped your rationality clean. Made ordinary life seem boring. Sobriety was no longer a goal, or an escape. It was a way to get away from him, and you didn’t want that. You don’t think you ever would. “You l-look best like this, you know?” As he’s slipping in another finger, lifting his head to watch your face as he stretches you open. “Falling apart f-for me. Don’t gotta think about nothin’ b-but my touch.” Eyes glinting in the low lighting of his bedroom he scissors them open wide, watching with keen interest as your brows pinch together - your body twitching and trembling beneath him. Moans growing shakier, hips jumping every time his fingers sunk into you. Responding to him so perfectly, just as you always did, Like you were made for him. “Feels good t-to let go, hm?”

It did, it always did, especially when you knew he’d be the one there to catch you. Giving in was scary, but not whilst lying beneath him. You knew that no matter how messy, or incoherent, or downright pathetic you got - he wouldn’t shun you. He’d just offer you the same old smile, and call you beautiful, just like he always did.

That’s what made him dangerous. His unwavering acceptance of your flaws, because he had no room to judge. He was so much worse.

When a third finger nudges in next to the other two, your hands are flying upwards - a desperate, gargled cry ripping from your lungs as the burn of the stretch finally beared its fangs. Making your thighs tremble and your stomach twist, nails sinking deep into his shoulders as tears spring to your eyes. It’s almost too much - almost. Toby knew your body’s limits, knew how much you could take. He’d never push you, just shush you softly and coax you into relaxation when you tried to fight it. It was so easy to listen to him, even as your brain melted into a puddle of mush, dripping out of your ears and onto his bedsheets. “Th-That’s it, you got it.” Slick gushing all over his fingers, soaking the digits on every press in. Feeling how your body just opened up for him, your cunt stretching open for him like an offering, dripping out the sweetest essence like a precursor to the main event. “You he-hear that?” He had one hand on your hip, holding you down as his fingers fucked into you. Letting your upper body writhe and spasm, but keeping your pussy right where he wanted it - right in the palm of his hand. “Pussy’s ss-so fuckin’ wet for me.” His gaze near feral as he gazed down at you, at how your expression contorted, drool pooling in the corners of your lips. “Shes’s b-beggin’ for my cock, baby.”

His words have a visceral effect on you, your face crumpling, gasping for breath as your cunt squeezes around his fingers. You can feel it when it throbs around him, feel that familiar heat brewing low in your gut. So easily brought out when it was stoked by him.

“Toby-“ If you had an ounce of rational thought left, you’d probably cringe at how desperately pathetic your voice sounded wrapped around his name. Shame isn’t in your books right now though, not as you start rocking your hips back to meet his movements, not as that sweet pleasure tied a noose around your throat and pulled you under. “Toby-“ Again, you choke it out. Like it’s the only word you know, like it’s a prayer and he’s the god you’re pleading to. Over and over again, drooling out his name as you fell to pieces beneath him.

“There you go.” He feels it when you cum, shudders when your pussy clenches around his fingers so desperately. Sucking the digits in like you still needed more, and he was more than happy to give it to you. “S-So pretty when you cum.” He fucks you through it, smiling to himself as he watches you through hazy vision - squirming and sniffling beneath him. Hips bucking and limbs twitching when it got to be too much, and yet he takes you further. Rubbing the pads of his fingers up against your g-spot just to hear how your voice cracked and quivered because of it. “You want m-more, right?” Still keeping his fingers inside you, his whole body tingling in euphoria at just how easy it was to turn you into a pile of tears. It never got old. He didn’t think it ever would. “I know my fingers aren’t enough. Y-You want my cock, right?” Curling them, making all of the air in your lungs leave in a wheeze. “Tell me.”

“Please, Toby.” You’re so fucked out already that you have no choice but to bed. Mindless as you plead for it, your vision swimming with tears as you try to blink them away to look at him. When you do, you’re falling all over again. Because he’s looking down at you like you’re some kind of goddess. Pupils blown right out, chest heaving, his shaggy hair matted to his forehead with sweat. He’s gorgeous, and that wan’t just the drugs talking, you were sure of it. “Need- Need it.” Your nails scratch up his back when you drag him in close, your bottom lip quivering as hot tears leave tracks down your cheeks. “Please- Please fuck me.”

“Oh, darlin’,” His smile is sickly sweet. Almost uncanny, like he was masking the true extend of his depravity beneath it. Through your watery vision, all you see is fondness. “Now, h-how am I supposed to say no to that?”

He doesn’t make you wait, probably because he’s just itching to get as close you you as possible. He’s been hard for a while now, since he first climbed onto the bed with you. Aching in his boxers, throbbing with need just for you. Fueled by desire, heightened by the stimulants floating around in his bloodstream. “I’ll fuck you.” He hums as he unbuttons his jeans - hasty, desperate, like he can’t bear another moment not being inside you. “I-I’ll fuck you good. I always do, hm?”

”Yeah.” You tug him in when he kicks his jeans off, barely even letting his get his underwear pulled down before your legs are wrapping around his waist and drawing him in. Ankles locking around his back already, trapping him right where he wanted him to be most. “Please- Please..” Scratching at his skin, hips kicking upwards when you feel him slide his cock through your slick folds. So ready for him that it makes his breath catch in his throat. “Fuck, Toby-“ You know you’re being pathetic, desperate pleas babbled out to him as drool seeps out of the corners of your mouth. Begging like he wasn’t quite literally rutting up against your cunt, twitching beneath his cock like your body was beckoning him to just sink right in.

“Shhh..” He chuckles softly, one hand slipping up to cup your tit as the other one reaches down to get himself lined up properly. His gaze flickering like a candle in the wind as he watched you jolt just from the feeling of him merely pressing against you. “D-Don’t gotta keep begging. I’m right here.”

He accentuates his words with a gentle nudge inwards, proving his point as his cock slipped into your heat so perfectly. Not even an ounce of discomfort because he had already stretched you open good, just that mind numbing satisfaction as his body slotted into yours like a puzzle piece fitting into place. “See?” His free hand smooths up your side, finding a home gripping your waist as the other one toys with your breast. Kneading it gently as he sunk in more and more, giving you inch after inch until you were trembling beneath him. Crying out to him, not sure exactly what you were begging for. “That’s b-better, right?”

Undeniably. He doesn’t really expect you to answer, so when all he gets is a pathetic little whimper in reply he just grins - gazing down at you through the hair falling in front of his eyes. So fond, so lovestruck, if only you were coherent enough to notice. “You a-always get like this.” He murmurs softly, nails biting into your skin as he slowly starts rocking his hips - his shoulders tensing up at the feeling of your cunt wrapping around him so deliciously. Like a glove. Like you were made to take him, and him only. “Get s-so fuckin’ d-dumb. Can’t even t-talk.”

Leaning down, his nose brushes against you, right in your face as you gasp your air. And now, all you can smell is him. All you can feel is him. All you can hear is him, gravelly groans slipping out between each breathy word. “S’it because you’re s-so fucked up?” He rasps out to you, not quickening his pace but driving into you deeper. Making you take all of it. Pulling you back to meet him until his cock was fully enveloped in your welcoming body. “Or do you j-just love my cock that much?”

You can't tell if that question is rhetorical, your mind so hazy that you can’t focus on anything but the feeling of his length sliding against your twitching walls. Sinking in nice and deep, the head giving your cervix a kiss every time he bottomed out. It left you near delirious, scrambling to grapple at him like he was the only thing grounding you to reality. Your movements are unconscious, rolling your hips back to get more an more of him, hiccuping out watery moans as your head lols against the pillow.

And to his question, you answer;

”I-I love you-“ Not his cock, not the way he fucks you - him. Him and his flaws. Him and how horrible he was beneath that candy coating he wrapped himself in. Your eyes are squeezed shut, so you don’t see it when his eyes widen, but you feel it when he falters. Hips stuttering a little, his grip on you tightening to a bruising degree. Not stopping, but close to it as he stared down at you in a mixture of disbelief and awe. But, he shakes it off rather quickly.

”Oh, baby,” And then his arm is slipping underneath your back, pulling your body up and close to his chest, cradling you as his hips rocked into yours. “N-No you don’t.” There’s not room for argument in his words, no sadness, no strain. Just cold honesty, like he knew you from the inside out. Like he had a better grasp on your thoughts than you did.

And honestly? Right now, he did.

”I do.” You insist through tears and choked out moans, pressing up into his hold like you were trying to crawl under his skin. Your face burrowing into the crook of his neck as your tears wet his skin- stubble tickling your cheek. “I do- I do-“

”You th-think you do.” Toby corrects you softly, on hand reaching up to card through your hair. He mirrors your actions, his head tilting down to rest against your shoulder. “But you don’t. Th-That’s just the drugs talkin’, darlin’.” Murmuring out the sweetest refusals even as he took you apart, keeping his movements nice and steady even as you clung to him so desperately. “And that's alright. That’s ha-half the reason I give ‘em to you.”

You can barely even hear him. You can feel the vibrations rumble through his chest with every word he speaks, can just barely make out the garbled gibberish that your known language has turned into. But the impact is lost on you.

But just as Toby said - that was alright. “Just- Don’t g-gotta think about that shit, yeah? Just let me have you.”

Easy. You had surrendered yourself to him the moment you stepped through his door. Drove in the final nail when you slipped into his bed like it was your own. And now, as you trembled in his arms, you were exactly what he wanted you to be. His, unequivocally. Crying out his name, clinging onto his body, nails sinking into and marking up his skin. Labels and such weren’t needed when he could see it with his own eyes, your dedication to him. Just handing yourself over, even if he definitely didn’t deserve it. “That’s it.” Hips snapping into yours, shivering as he felt your slick gush out around him and soak his pelvis. “Just t-take it.”

Your body cried for him, how was he supposed to ever abstain? “S-So good- Always feel so good for me.” He had you slotted snug against him, like your bodies were two parts of the same whole. Slick skin sliding against his, your tits smushed up against his chest as his hands slipped down to gasp at your ass. Using the grip as leverage as to pull you back to meet him. Snapping his hips into yours, driving his cock into you as the pace picked up. Like he was trying to fuck every pesky little thought right out of you. Wanting you mindless, unable to to think of the intricacies of who he was to you.

Right now, he was pleasure incarnate, and that’s all he needed to be.

Fucking into you until you were drooling against his shoulder, until there was nothing you were capable of besides moaning out his name with a broken voice. Legs around his hips, ankles locked behind his back, your pussy damn near squeezing the life out of him as he took you higher, and higher. “Hah- Fuck-“ Harder, deeper, the sound of skin on skin filling the smoky air. The scent of sex clinging to each heavy particle. “Gonna cum again, a-aren’t you?”

Words lost on you, all you can do is vehemently nod, sniffling against his skin as your fingers clawed upwards to snake into his hair. Grasping at the strands for dear life, getting them curled around your knuckles in a nice firm grip. “Yeah? G-Give it to me. Let me feel it.” It’s as if he held a key that unlocked the ecstasy within you, because his words ring in your ears like a beckoning call that your body just can’t deny. His voice, raspy and wrecked, breathed right out next to your ear, that's all it takes. One, two more thrusts and he’s got you crumbling to pieces again,melting into a puddle of pleasure that seeped through the gaps between his fingers. “C-Christ-“

Unknown or not, the effect you had on him was just as potent. You buckled him. Left him breathless not just from the feeling of your pussy milking his cock, but from the sight of you. Flushed, shaky, jaw gone slack and eyes so hazy and far away - like he had transported you to an entirely different world. “Perfect.” He barely even registers the word he breathes out, but he means it all the same. That’s what you were to him, indisputably. “Fuckin’-“ He just barely clinging to coherency, his whole body trembling as his hips twitch and his thrusts get sloppier. “Too good- You-You’re too good-“ And he means it, in more ways than one.

He doesn’t last long after that, can’t. Barely getting a few more pumps in before his body’s going rigid - teeth sinking deep into your shoulder to muffle the broken groan that leaves him when he presses in deep for the final time. Not asking, because he knew you’d let him. Spilling into you with a warmth that makes you shudder, marking you as his from the inside out for the nth time over.

Then, he slumps. Body going limp. Just barely refraining from crushing you as his arms curl around your torso - pressing you into the bed as he gasps out wheezing breaths against your neck. Sweat dripping from his hair onto your skin, still trembling like a leaf even as his heart beat slowly came back down to a normal pace. “See?” He’s murmuring against you when he finally finds his choice again, still not moving, just holding you close. Because he knows that this is the only time he’s really allowed to. “T-Told you it’d make you feel good.”

”Nah.” You hum back to him as your eyes finally flutter back open, your hands idly smoothing down his back as you gaze focuses on the ceiling once more. Back to counting each and every crack. “That was all you.”

He tries to hide it. Keeps his face buried in your neck to keep it out of your view, but you feel his lips curl into a soft little smile against your neck. More than that, you feel his heat speed up a bit again where it beats against your chest.

”Yeah?” His voice is softer now, murmured out tiredly in a breath that tickles your skin and raises goosebumps on your arms. “Sounds l-like I gotta find a better supplier then.”

And you could try and unpack it all. Try to pull his head up and look him in the eyes, searching for the answer for every single question you have about him.

But, you're too tired for that.

And so, you just laugh.

———————————————————————————————————-

Heyyyyyy lol. This ones for all the anons creaming over dealer!Toby in my inbox lmfao.

Sorry i got angsty??? Idk thats just where it took me, regardless I hope you enjoyed lmfao

[azzibuckets]

letters from dallas part 1

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: in which i neglect all the other series and fics im supposed to be writing to send more angst ur way <3

lfd masterlist | main masterlist

May 1, 2025

Dear Azzi,

It fucking sucks here.

I know I’m supposed to be thankful for this opportunity. And I am, I swear. My teammates are nice. Arike’s been showing me around downtown. Nai and Lyss are funny. They’ve adopted me, called me their child. They remind me of us.

My therapist said it’s good to write down my feelings. Not sure how she’d say if it was letters, letters to you, but hey, something is better than nothing.

I saw a trailer for Frozen 3 last week and I thought of you. I hope you’re doing well. I called KK the other day. She was so excited - I felt bad. I haven’t been as good as I wanted to be with talking to our team - well, your team now - but it hurts too much knowing that they get to spend every day with you and I can’t. I asked her about you. She seemed hesitant to tell me. But I kept nagging her and she told me you’re good, spending a lot of time reading and stuff. Said they finally got you off Colleen Hoover. She wants me to move on, I can tell. It’s killing both of us, how I can’t let you go. But I guess writing these letters and stuffing them in my closet are how I’m trying to get my closure and deal with my feelings, so maybe this will help.

You’re on my fucking mind all the time, and I wish you weren’t. I miss you so bad sometimes it hurts to exist. If you saw the amount of melatonin I take every every night just to avoid you in my dreams, you’d probably yell at me.

Love,

Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June 7, 2025

Dear Azzi,

Have I mentioned that Drew hasn’t been talking to me? He blames me for our breakup, and he misses you like hell. I do too.

I played like shit in the game yesterday. I can’t believe we lost to the Sparks. It was nice seeing Cam again though. I don’t know if you remember, but it’s our anniversary. I saw that you were at the soccer game with the girls. You looked really good, really happy. I guess it doesn’t affect you like it affects me. And I know that should make me like, mad, or jealous. But I’m glad at least one of us is healing?

Honestly? it sucks having to see your face all over social media. It sucks even more whenever I go on my Instagram page and you’re all over it too. I could be salty and delete all of it, but that would start too much drama. Besides, that would mean deleting like half my posts

I wonder how Jose and Jon are doing. Jon unfollowed me the other day. That one hurt pretty bad. I miss my little brothers, and I miss your parents.

Love,

Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

August 28, 2025

Dear Azzi,

Yesterday was a fucking shit show. Honestly, I didn’t expect you to even show up when I heard you guys were coming. It was weird, seeing you in the audience. It was everything I’d always imagined, you coming to my games, but it also made me feel sick, knowing this is what could’ve been. What should’ve been. I was nervous the last quarter thinking about what to say to you after the game, but god, Azzi, you couldn’t even look at me. I tried to talk to you after the group pic but you disappeared.

Maybe it’s a good time to tell you that Katie and Tim were at my game last week, against the Mystics. I’m gonna be honest, when I saw they were there, I avoided them, and I’m not proud of it. I ran to my car straight after the presser but somehow they found where I parked and were waiting next to it?? If this was a different circumstance I would’ve laughed.

All they told me was great game before I started crying. I don’t even know what came over me. But your mom hugged me and that made me cry even harder. They told me I was their daughter no matter what, and they loved me. I wrote it down as soon as I left because I didn’t ever wanna forget.

Azzi, we didn’t even marry each other like we promised, and I still feel like we left a broken family. I didn’t mean for this many people to get hurt, for this many relationships to shatter because ours did.

It makes forgetting you so much harder, and that’s what pisses me off. That I’ve injured my knee and gone through months of rehab and moved across the country to a brand new city, yet this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

From,

Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

October 2nd, 2025

Dear Azzi,

I was calling KK again and I didn’t ask about you this time. I think I’m making some progress.

Arike keeps trying to get me with some of her friends, but it still doesn’t feel right. I think I need a little bit more time.

From,

Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

October 20, 2025

Dear Azzi,

I turn 24 today. Damn I feel old. I’ve spent a third of my life now loving you.

From,

Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

October 22nd, 2025

Dear Azzi,

I just got your present in the mail. You didn’t have to. I love it. Thank you.

- Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

November 11, 2025

Happy birthday big head. I think you probably received my gift by now. I debated on writing a card, but you didn’t write me one, and I’ve decided to leave the cards (haha) in your hand. So I’m just following your lead. I hope you enjoy 23.

- Paige

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

December 7, 2025

Azzi,

Hell of a game yesterday. Proud of you. National player of the year performance

- P

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 5, 2026

Az,

LET’S FUCKING GOOOO. Shit, man. Two peat natty champs??? Unbelievable. My hands are tweaking out, I can’t even read my own handwriting. I knew you could do it, Az. Thank you for not forcing me to wear irish merch..I never look good in green like you do

- P

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 13, 2026

Azzi,

Drafted to the Sky????

See you so fucking soon

Nice fit at the draft btw

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May 16, 2026

Dear Azzi,

Fuck, the way you smiled at me after that game. Maybe I’ll have the courage to finally text you. I know it’s probably not the best idea but…I still regret everything. It’s been a little bit more than a year and it still hurts as bad as it did the first day. Is this normal?

Love,

Paige

[stylesonfilms]

the days are long, the days are hard [h.s]

word count: 4.5k

after a long, excruciating week at work packed with bad news, all you want is your husband, harry.

(inspired by one of my moots that has had a rough few days, hope this brings some comfort!)

warnings: none, just fluff!

Your week started off rough—rougher than most, in fact. The kind of week that clings to your chest like damp fabric, making it hard to breathe and even harder to find the energy to push through.

Monday was everything you’d expect a Monday to be: sluggish, jarring, and unforgiving. Getting back into the groove of things at the office after a much-needed holiday break felt like trying to climb uphill in heels on black ice. Your inbox was flooded, your calendar double-booked, and your brain resistant to the demands of corporate life. The fluorescent lighting overhead seemed brighter than usual, glaring down at you as though it wanted to mock your every misstep.

By Tuesday, the headache that had been brewing since the start of the week blossomed into a full-on throbbing migraine. You powered through with your phone glued to your ear, making calls and leaving voicemails to important individuals who somehow never seemed available. The phone grew slick in your clammy hands, and you found yourself gripping it tighter as though that would keep it from slipping away along with your patience.

Wednesday hit like a freight train. You walked into the office, already dreading the growing to-do list, only to be blindsided by the news that you’d be giving not one, but two speeches at back-to-back meetings. Meetings that you didn’t even know existed until that very moment. You had smiled through clenched teeth and nodded at your boss, silently berating yourself for not anticipating this kind of curveball. The weight of your own expectations pressed heavily on your shoulders, making the simple act of breathing feel like a chore.

Meanwhile, Harry was a ghost in the rhythm of your week. He left before the sun rose, his coffee cup rinsed and drying in the sink by the time you wandered into the kitchen each morning. By the time he returned home, long after the sky had surrendered to darkness, you’d already have dinner waiting—his plate warm, yours half-empty. Conversations were quick and superficial, exchanges of how-was-your-day glossed over in favor of tired smiles and heavy eyelids.

Friday arrived, and with it, the chaos of the city seemed to mirror the storm inside you. Your phone buzzed incessantly in your purse, vibrating against the side of your hip as you weaved through the swarm of New Yorkers hustling to get wherever they needed to be. The cold January air stung your cheeks, and the weight of your tote bag dug into your shoulder as you dodged elbows and briefcases. You muttered an apology to someone who bumped into you, though you couldn’t bring yourself to look up from the sidewalk until you reached the revolving doors of your building.

Once inside, you let out a sharp exhale, your breath fogging up the glass as you took a moment to compose yourself. Tugging at your blazer, you smoothed it over your pencil skirt before running your fingers through your hair, trying to tame the frizz that had been building from the morning’s commute. Your heels clicked sharply against the marble floors as you made your way to the elevator, the sound echoing faintly in the open lobby.

“Hi, Martha!” you chirped at the receptionist, flashing her a smile that felt paper-thin.

“Morning! Good luck today!” she called back cheerfully, though her voice felt like it was coming from underwater.

You loved her, truly. She was one of the few people in the office whose presence didn’t add to your stress, but today, you could barely muster the energy to respond with more than a quick wave. Your nerves had been stretched to the breaking point, and your usual confidence felt like it had been replaced by quicksand.

If it had been any other day, Harry would’ve held you the night before, grounding you in the warmth of his arms as he peppered light kisses across your face. He would’ve whispered words of reassurance into your temple, his voice low and steady as he reminded you of just how capable you were. His hands would have found the curve of your back, his thumb tracing soothing circles into your skin until your worries melted into the sheets.

But last night, you hadn’t let him in. Despite his gentle prodding and his furrowed brows that silently begged you to confide in him, you had brushed him off with excuses of being overtired. You’d told him about your unreasonable bosses, blaming your frustration on the endless pile of work. He didn’t believe you—Harry never did when it came to half-truths. He knew you too well.

He’d pressed his lips into a thin line, his silence carrying the weight of his concern, but he had let it go, probably sensing you didn’t have the energy to delve into your worries. And maybe you should have let him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to add to the weight he was already carrying. With two employees down at his job, he’d been shouldering triple the workload, yet he still came home each night with that same lopsided smile.

You thought about the time, three years ago, when you asked him how he managed to leave the stress of work at the door. His answer had been so simple, yet it had stayed with you ever since.

“Because,” he’d said, pulling you into his arms, “at the end of the day, no matter how bad it gets, I get to come home to you. And that makes everything else feel small.”

The memory brought a faint smile to your lips, even as you stepped into the elevator and prepared yourself for another long day.

You sighed as the elevator dinged softly, floor by floor, the sound seeming to echo in the confined space. It was a rhythmic, monotonous chime, yet it only heightened your sense of dread. Fishing your phone out of your purse, you let the leather strap slide from your shoulder and settle in the crook of your arm. The screen lit up immediately, bathing your face in a cold glow, and a notification blinked persistently at the top. A voicemail.

Your stomach tightened when you saw the name attached: Martin Mayer-Harvey. The name alone carried weight—a man whose influence stretched across six major publishing branches, a figure both revered and feared in the industry. His voice had been a beacon of hope during your one-on-one interview, one you had approached with equal parts trepidation and determination.

Harry had been ecstatic when you first told him about the opportunity. He’d grinned so wide his dimples had cut deep into his cheeks, his enthusiasm bubbling over as he pulled you into a celebratory hug. “This is it,” he’d said, his hands cradling your face. “This is the door opening for you, babe. And you’re going to crush it.” He’d even gone the extra mile to send recommendations on your behalf, his faith in you unwavering.

But now, standing alone in the elevator, the air felt thick with foreboding. With a swipe of your thumb, you tapped the notification, bringing the phone to your ear as you turned the volume up. Another ding. Another floor.

The voicemail played, Martin’s voice smooth and clinical, like velvet stretched too thin.

“Mrs. Y/N, thank you for your time and the professionalism you demonstrated during your interview. I regret to inform you that you have not been selected as an employee for this upcoming year. Nothing personal, it just comes down to the finer things—successes and ethics, and all. Thanks again. Your time was appreciated.”

The words hit you like a gut punch. Your stomach churned, a nauseating wave rolling over you as your breath caught in your throat. Not selected. You repeated the phrase in your mind, the syllables heavy and jagged, cutting deeper with every repetition. Successes and ethics? What did that even mean? Was he saying you weren’t accomplished enough? That you lacked whatever intangible quality he deemed essential?

You swallowed hard, but the lump in your throat refused to go away. When you’d shaken his hand after the interview, his words had brimmed with promise, his smile so genuine you’d dared to believe the position was yours. Yet now, the sterile tone of his voicemail made you feel like just another name crossed off a list.

The elevator dinged again, jolting you out of your spiraling thoughts as the doors slid open with an indifferent hum. The bright fluorescent lights of the seventh floor spilled in, harsh and unforgiving, making you squint as you stepped out into the long hallway. Blinking rapidly, you shoved your phone back into your purse, gripping the strap tightly as if it could somehow anchor you.

Your heels clicked against the polished tiles, the sound sharp and deliberate as you forced yourself to move forward. The walls, painted a dull beige, seemed to close in on you with every step, the air growing heavier as you approached your office.

When you finally stepped inside, the familiar scent of stale coffee and printer ink greeted you, a small comfort in an otherwise dismal moment. Dropping your purse onto the desk with a dull thud, you leaned against the wooden frame, your fingers curling around its edge as if it could keep you upright. Your chest rose and fell in uneven breaths as you closed your eyes, willing yourself to regain control.

The weight of disappointment pressed down on you, a suffocating heaviness that made your fingers tremble as they tightened around the wood. You hated this job. Loathed it, really. What had once been a golden opportunity now felt like a gilded cage. Five years of grunt work had left you disillusioned, the spark of ambition dimmed by endless busywork and little recognition. You had learned, yes, but at what cost?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the creak of the door swinging open, followed by a brisk knock. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Let’s go,” your boss grunted, his voice clipped and devoid of warmth. A briefcase dangled from his hand as he nodded toward the hallway. “You’ve got work to do.”

The meetings were as grueling as you’d anticipated. Standing in front of the room, under the scrutinizing gaze of your colleagues, felt like being trapped under a spotlight. The projector whirred faintly as you fumbled with the remote, your palms damp as you flipped through slide after slide. Words stumbled out of your mouth, tangling together as your nerves got the better of you. Every time you glanced at the room, the blank faces staring back only made your stomach twist further.

You kept replaying Martin’s voicemail in your head, the words looping like a broken record, distracting you at every turn. The disappointment, the humiliation—it all burned, settling low in your gut like a stone.

By the time the meetings ended, you could barely muster the energy to exchange handshakes, your smiles forced and brittle as you bid everyone a good day.

You checked the dainty watch on your wrist—a delicate silver piece Harry had gifted you on your one-year anniversary. It read 5:30. You sighed, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you snapped your case closed on the meeting table.

“What happened out there?” your boss asked, his tone sharp and unimpressed. His gaze swept over you, narrowing slightly as though he could see every crack in your armor. “I thought you were prepared.”

You gave me just under two damn days, you thought bitterly, though the words never left your lips.

Instead, you offered a tight-lipped apology. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I let myself get distracted.”

Your boss lingered for a moment, his eyes scanning your face before letting out a quiet “hm.” He turned on his heel and left without another word.

The breath you’d been holding escaped in a shuddering sigh. The weight of the day bore down on you, your muscles aching under the strain. All you wanted was to go home. To take a long, scalding shower and let the steam wash away the tension clinging to your skin. To crawl into bed, pull the covers over your head, and pretend for a moment that the world wasn’t so heavy.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The hot water cascaded over your skin in steady rivulets, steaming against the cool tiles and filling the bathroom with a dense, comforting warmth. Each droplet hit your shoulders and back with a soothing rhythm, dissolving the tension knotted in your muscles from the week’s troubles. You leaned forward slightly, pressing your palms against the wet shower wall, letting the stream ripple through the strands of your hair and drip down to your toes. The scent of pomegranate and shea butter from the body scrub filled the air, sweet and creamy, wrapping around you like a gentle embrace.

You had gotten home just over half an hour ago. The house had been quiet, the kind of stillness that usually greeted you on Fridays. Harry’s car was absent from the driveway, as expected—he always stayed late at the end of the week, wrapping up whatever loose ends needed his attention. The emptiness of the house had been neither comforting nor unsettling; it simply was. You’d set your bag on the kitchen counter, slipped off your heels, and headed straight for the shower, bypassing the bedroom entirely.

Your clothes lay in a careless heap on the tiled floor, a small pile of the day’s exhaustion. You’d scrubbed at your scalp with your fingernails, washing your hair thoroughly not once, but twice, as if doing so could cleanse not just the grime of the day, but also the weight pressing on your mind. You busied yourself with every task you could—shaving over every inch of skin, exfoliating with the grainy scrub until your arms and legs felt soft and raw, then lathering up with the matching body wash, its silky foam sliding over your skin before being washed away in swirling streams.

When the water finally stopped, you stood for a moment in the silence, the air heavy with steam and the faint aroma of your products. You wrung out your hair with practiced motions, droplets splattering onto the shower floor as you reached for the towel. With a flick of your wrist, you flipped your hair forward and wrapped it into the plush fabric, the soft pink standing out against the misty haze. Another towel—this one a little coarser—was pulled from the rack, and you pressed it to your damp skin, blotting and drying before wrapping it securely around your body.

The bathroom was your sanctuary for the next hour. You took your time moving through your routine, dabbing on lotions and serums, brushing out your hair, and slipping into a pair of soft, oversized pajamas. The familiar scents of lavender and coconut oil mingled with the lingering steam, grounding you as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your heart still carried the same heaviness it had since hearing the voicemail, a quiet ache nestled in your chest. But now, it felt distant—muted, like background noise to the slow hum of your movements.

By the time you left the bathroom, the house felt cooler, the air outside the warmth of the shower almost brisk against your skin. You padded down the hallway barefoot, the soft patter of your steps swallowed by the carpet. The living room was dimly lit, the glow from the TV casting flickering shadows against the walls. You curled up on the couch under the throw blanket, its weight comforting as it settled over you. Your comfort show played softly in the background, the familiar voices blending seamlessly into the quiet. A well-loved book rested by your side, its pages slightly worn, ready to pull you in if you felt like retreating further into your own world.

Around seven PM, the sound of the front door opening broke the silence. The subtle click of the latch, followed by the rhythmic clack of Harry’s work shoes against the hardwood floor, was a melody you didn’t realize you’d been waiting for. His keys jingled briefly before landing with a soft clink in the bowl by the door, and the heavier thud of his briefcase settling onto the dining table made your heart lighten just a little.

Relief bubbled in your chest, warm and effervescent, as you shifted under the blanket. Your arm hooked around the back of the couch, your head tilting to look over your shoulder as Harry rounded the corner. The sight of him brought an instant smile to your face.

He was still in his work suit, the sharp lines of his dark grey blazer and slacks softened by the slight dishevelment that came with a long day. The plain black button-up underneath was unbuttoned at the collar, and the sleeves were cuffed up just enough to reveal his wrists. His hair was slightly mussed, a few strands falling across his forehead.

His lips curved into a familiar, easy smile when he saw you, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he lifted a bag of takeout into the air. “I brought takeout,” he said, his voice warm and teasing as he walked over to you. “Figured tonight was one of those nights.”

Your chest swelled with gratitude— he knew you so well. He always had.

You murmured a quiet thank you, your voice soft and a little worn, and let out a contented sigh as he sank onto the couch beside you. His arms wrapped snugly around you, pulling you close as the weight of the day melted away. You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest as his familiar scent— something clean, woodsy, and uniquely him— enveloped you. His nose brushed against your damp hair, and the warmth of his presence grounded you in a way nothing else could.

For the first time all day, you felt like you could finally exhale.

“You smell good, baby.” Harry’s voice was a soft murmur, his accent thick and lingering in the air like honey, each word wrapped in warmth. His large hands splayed across your back, their weight grounding you as they roamed gently over the sleek fabric of your pajama set. His touch was tender, deliberate, as though he was trying to smooth away the burdens of your day. You melted into him, your arms winding around his torso, clinging to him like he was your lifeline. The familiar scent of his cologne wrapped around you, blending seamlessly with the faint aroma of soap lingering on your own skin.

Your face nestled into the crook of his neck, the warmth of his body radiating into yours as you fluttered your eyes shut. His chest rose and fell steadily beneath your cheek, his heartbeat a gentle, soothing rhythm that seemed to lull your own into sync. Being here, in his arms, felt like finally exhaling after holding your breath all day.

Harry’s lips pressed into a small frown, the pinch of his brows betraying his concern. His hands, broad and steady, paused on your back, giving your shoulders a reassuring squeeze before he pulled back slightly to study you. One hand slid beneath your chin, his touch feather-light but firm, guiding your gaze up to meet his.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked softly, his green eyes searching yours with an intensity that felt like he was looking straight into your soul. His voice was gentle, but the concern etched into his expression made your chest tighten. His thumb brushed over your cheekbone in a slow, comforting stroke, its warmth grounding you even as you struggled to hold his gaze.

You let out a small, weary sigh. “Meetings,” you mumbled, though even to your own ears, the excuse sounded thin. Still, you nuzzled into his touch, seeking comfort as your words trailed off.

Harry’s hand cradled your jaw now, his thumb continuing its soothing path along your skin. His other hand found its way to your bare thigh, his palm warm and steady as it swept up and down, brushing lightly under the hem of your sleep shorts. His touch was instinctive, effortless, but it carried with it a deep well of care that threatened to unravel you.

“You don’t get this worn and torn over meetings, love,” he said quietly, his voice like a low hum of thunder, steady and grounding. “Is there something else?” His green eyes held yours, steady and unyielding, like a comforting fire that wouldn’t burn but would warm you to your core.

Your lips parted, but the words caught in your throat. You sighed again, this time deeper, your shoulders slumping under the weight of it all. His hands never wavered— one cupping your face, the other continuing its soothing rhythm against your thigh.

Finally, you spoke, your voice trembling with a mix of sadness and resignation. “That job at Mayer-Harvey completely fell through,” you admitted, your breath hitching as the words spilled out. “He said... he said I wasn’t qualified enough, not accomplished enough, just… not enough.” The words felt heavier the more you said them, the ache in your chest twisting a little tighter.

Harry’s frown deepened, the lines on his face etched with quiet frustration— not at you, but at the world that had made you feel this way. His thumb stilled for a moment before resuming its gentle sweep across your cheek. When your gaze dropped to your hands, which were busy fiddling with the edge of his blazer, he tipped your chin back up with tender insistence.

“Baby, you know that’s not true, right?” His voice was firm but still soft, his words laced with conviction. “None of it. He doesn’t know an ounce of what he’s talking about.”

You shook your head slightly, your brows furrowing. “H, he owns six different branches. I would say he—.”

“No.” Harry’s voice interrupted gently but firmly, his head shaking in disagreement. “Just because he owns them doesn’t mean he knows how to work them. I can guarantee you, in two months, he’ll realize just how badly he messed up by letting you go. He’ll regret it, love, because no one brings what you do to the table.”

Your lips wavered into a faint pout, sadness glazing over your eyes as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “I just… I have to keep looking, I guess. Maybe I wasn’t meant to work there anyway.”

“But you damn sure wanted it,” Harry said, his voice softening, though the conviction in his tone remained. His hand on your thigh paused to squeeze lightly before resuming its gentle strokes. “And you deserved it. Y/N, I’ve seen your work. I’ve seen how dedicated you are, how much effort you put in, even when it’s for a company that doesn’t deserve you. And I know,” he paused, leaning a little closer, his eyes locking onto yours, “I know you’d pack a bigger punch for a company that’s actually worth it.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, slowly loosening the knot of doubt and hurt in your chest. Maybe he was right.

You nodded slowly, your fingers tracing the lapel of his blazer as you whispered, “I really wanted it, H.”

“I know, baby.” His voice was soft, his lips brushing against your forehead in a kiss that was as much a promise as it was an act of comfort. He kissed the bridge of your nose next, lingering there for a moment. “But don’t worry, darling. We’ll find you something better— something that deserves you. And listen, if you want to leave that job now, I’d be more than happy to support us. All I want is to take care of my girl. That’s it.”

Harry’s hands framed your face, his thumbs stroking softly against your cheeks as he looked at you with an intensity that made you feel seen in a way no one else could make you feel. Then, slowly, he leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss so gentle, so tender, that it made your heart swell and your worries ebb away.

With Harry by your side, it didn’t matter what the world threw at you. His unwavering support, his patience, his love— it was all you needed.

“Now c’mon,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to press another kiss to your forehead. “Let’s have dinner, yeah?”

You spent that night cooped up under his arm, the fabric of his suit soft but slightly wrinkled from your cuddling. Neither of you cared. All that mattered was the comfort of being close, the way his steady heartbeat became your lullaby as the hours ticked by. The movie played quietly in the background, but neither of you was paying much attention. Harry’s fingers absentmindedly traced little patterns along your arm, while you nestled deeper into his side, letting his warmth soak into your skin.

When dinner was done and the plates had been set aside, Harry stood, stretching dramatically before grinning down at you. “Don’t move a muscle,” he teased, his green eyes crinkling with affection as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

He took care of the cleanup, tossing the trash and rinsing the dishes with that same effortless grace he did everything else. You watched him from the couch, your heart swelling as he moved around the room, sleeves rolled up, that signature Harry charm shining through even in the simplest of acts. He looked over his shoulder to catch you staring, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips. “What’re you looking at, huh?”

“You,” you said softly, your voice carrying a warmth that made his smile widen.

“Good answer,” he chuckled, before walking over and scooping you up effortlessly. You let out a small squeal, laughing as he carried you bridal style toward the bedroom. “C’mon, love. Time for a proper cuddle.”

Once in bed, Harry wrapped you up in his arms as if he never wanted to let go. The suit jacket had long been tossed to the side, but his tie still hung loosely around his neck, a detail that made you smile. His hand found its way to your hair, fingers combing through the strands with a tenderness that melted away the last of your worries.

“By the way,” he murmured, his voice soft and low, “I took the next few days off.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him in surprise. “You did?”

“Mmhm,” he confirmed, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “Figured my girl needed me more than work did. And honestly, I needed this too. Just you and me for the weekend. Sound good?”

You nodded, your smile spreading as you snuggled closer, your hand resting against his chest. “Sounds perfect.”

Harry’s arms tightened around you, his lips brushing against your temple. “Good. Because I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And as you drifted off to sleep in his embrace, the weight of the world seemed to disappear, replaced by the quiet, unshakable love that only he could give.

[blog-o-meter]

25 - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader

summary: (Y/N) decides to get her brother’s best friend’s attention and he’s more than willing to give it to her.

warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, brother’s best friend!nicholas, dominant tease/bratty submissive, slow burn, forbidden romance??, implied age gap but not by much tbh it’s mostly just power dynamic

required listening: 25 by Veruca Salt

word count: 7,742

a/n: ik I try to wait a week between fics but I’m sawriiii I just loved this one too much to not post immediately. I do have another fic in the drafts but honestly I hate it now so I don’t think I’ll post that one. anyway im already planning on continuing this one YUPPPPP 🙂‍↕️ i just love listening to my playlist and writing xoxo lmk if you’re a veruca salt fan

reblogs, likes, and replies are greatly appreciated and let me know if you'd like to see more!

I never meant to eavesdrop on my brother’s conversations with him — Nicholas. Their voices, along with the sounds of Call of Duty blasting through the tv speakers, always managed to spill through the Jack and Jill bathroom that bridged our bedrooms. I would catch myself lingering by the bathroom door, my book or phone in hand as a cover, pretending I just happened to be nearby. My brother would crack some joke, and Nicholas’s laugh would come through low and warm, and my skin would prickle at the sound. Or sometimes I’d even hear the salacious stories of Nicholas and his fling of the week. Either way, I listened intently.

Nicholas and my brother have been best friends for years. He just showed up to the house one day and just kept coming back, like what happens whenever you find your best friend for life, like how I did. But my brother and I don’t run in the same circles, not really; he has his friends, and I have mine — and they never mixed, not even at our backyard cookouts where we’d each invite a friend or two. We always found ourselves at opposite corners of the house, and it was probably because they were a little older than us.

As a result, I never bothered, or was too nervous, to exchange more than a few words with Nicholas other than the occasional polite conversation, but he always managed to get under my skin either way. It was like he knew, somehow, like he could see right through me, past all my attempts at being casual or indifferent.

I couldn’t control the way my heart skipped a beat every time Nicholas’s eyes flicked over to me whenever I’d pass by them in the living room or as we passed around plates at the dinner table, especially not when I’d pass by him in the hallway and he’d flash me that all-too-famous smirk. I guess that’s why I eavesdropped on them; it was the only way I got to know him without having to say a word to him.

So, I didn’t know what was so different about that night that I just had to get Nicholas’s attention somehow, even if for just a second. I wasn’t sure if I would’ve bumped into him in the hallway, or even the bathroom, or not, but I still decided to slip into the skimpiest set of pajamas I had — a delicate pair of shorts that barely reached the back of my thighs and a camisole that clung to me like second skin. My mom had told me to never wear it whenever there were people over; it was “too revealing.”

“(Y/N)!” My brother’s voice traveled through the bathroom, shouting over his TV.

Hesitantly, I rolled out of my bed, my sock-covered feet quietly shuffling across the floor over to the bathroom. Before I reached the door to his room, I looked down at myself and suddenly grew shy. Maybe I was trying too hard. Would Nicholas notice? Second guessing my sudden boldness, I carefully hid half my body behind the door frame when I cracked open the door to his room.

My eyes flickered to Nicholas, who was perched on the edge of my brother’s bed, controller in hand, leaning forward slightly as he focused on the screen. He didn’t look over right away, but the second I peeked through the crack of the door, his gaze shifted back and forth between me and the TV, his thumbs hesitating on the controller.

“Yeah?” I asked quietly, trying to sound as casual as possible, one of my feet cricketing against the other. 

My brother barely glanced at me, his eyes glued to the team deathmatch round they were playing. “Do we still have any snacks left in the pantry or did you finish them?”

I hesitated, feeling Nicholas’s eyes on me. His gaze lingered, scanning over what little of me was visible behind the door. His dark brown eyes were unreadable, but there was something in his expression, something curious, that made me feel both exposed and exhilarated.

“Yeah, there’s still some cookies and chips. I'm not a vacuum,” I said finally, my voice softer now and muttering the last part. I rested my cheek against the frame, my gaze flickering between Nicholas, the floor, and my brother.

“Could you bring us some?” My brother asked, his fingers violently attacking the buttons on the controller, the sounds of loud gunshots and footsteps responding to his every button mash. “We’re in the middle of a round.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice even. I pushed off the doorframe and stepped back into the bathroom, catching the way Nicholas’s gaze dropped briefly, taking in more of me now that I wasn’t partially hidden.

I ducked back into my room, the air feeling heavier as I padded toward the kitchen. My heart was racing, every nerve in my body alive with the lingering awareness of his gaze. It wasn’t just my brother’s casual request that stuck with me, but the way Nicholas had looked at me — like I wasn’t just his friend’s little sister sneaking glances from behind doors.

In the kitchen, I opened the pantry and pulled out the cookies and chips, my nerves bubbling as I anticipated the moment I’d walk into my brother’s room wearing this outfit. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected — maybe a quick glance and nothing more, but the idea was scintillating either way.

My mom strutted into the kitchen then, still in her work clothes. “I thought I told you not to wear that when people were over,” she smirked knowingly. I had a little bit of a tendency to defy orders.

I glanced over my shoulder, feigning innocence. “It’s hot out,” I shrugged my shoulders as I closed the pantry and scampered past her with snacks in tow.

I returned to my brother’s room with the snacks in hand, pausing at the cracked bathroom door before taking a breath and sheepishly walking in. I stepped fully into the room, my bare legs feeling more exposed than they ever had before. “Here,” I called, keeping my tone neutral, like nothing about this moment felt significant, even though my pulse told a different story.

My brother barely spared me a glance as I set the snacks down in front of them, his attention glued to the screen. Nicholas, on the other hand, wasn’t as discreet. He leaned back slightly, one arm draped over his knee as he finally looked up from the game. His dark brown eyes swept over me, slow and deliberate, lingering just long enough to make me feel like every inch of my skin was on display under his gaze.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t smirk or tease the way he usually did. My cheeks burned as I shifted on my feet, my fingers brushing against the hem of my shorts, unsure what to do with myself.

“Thanks, (Y/N),” Nicholas said finally, his voice cutting through the tension. It was smooth, casual.

I smiled softly, more out of nerves than anything else, and started to retreat toward the door. “Don’t get used to it,” I mumbled, glancing over my shoulder. I cast one last glance at Nicholas. He was still watching me, his head tilted slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was suppressing a smirk. It was like he knew exactly what I was doing.

Now, I don’t know why I did it, maybe because I was so flustered that I didn’t notice or maybe I subconsciously knew what I was doing, but I left my bathroom door open just a smidge, enough for the soft light of my room to spill out and shine through the darkness of the bathroom, like a beacon in the night begging to be followed. Maybe it was a dare, or maybe I was just curious to see if he’d take the bait.

I threw myself onto my bed, stomach down, trying to calm my ever-racing heart as I replayed the moment Nicholas’s gaze lingered on me. I couldn’t bite back the smile forming on my lips as I pictured the look in his eye when I walked into the room. It sent a thrill through me. Did I finally manage to pique his interest as much as he piqued mine?

My heartbeat was unrelenting, so I reached for the book on my nightstand, hoping that reading a few pages might calm me. Of course, though, I wasn’t focusing on the pages. How could I? When my older brother’s hot best friend was right on the other side of that door?

Eventually, the sound of video games and laughter died down as the minutes ticked into the late night, replaced by muffled conversation before trailing off into complete silence. The only sound I could hear, now, was the occasional turn of the page and my thumping heartbeat, maybe the imperceptible hum of the lightbulb coming from my bedside lamp.

And on the other side, Nicholas could also hear the faint scratch of a page turning, too. He was lying down in his makeshift bed of blankets on the floor, quietly scrolling on his phone. The screen of his phone cast a faint glow on his face, but his attention wasn’t on the timeline of tweets he had planned on reading through. It was on that tiny crack of light spilling into the dark bathroom, the faintest view of my room on the other side.

He couldn’t sleep. How could he? The tight, little number I was bold enough to wear but still shy enough to hide behind the door frame, the way I glanced at him when I passed through to give them snacks, the subtle sway of my hips as I disappeared back into the bathroom to my room as if I hadn’t worn that number on purpose. And now, the crack in my door was basically daring him to walk through.

I didn’t know it, but it wasn’t the first time he’d noticed me. He always looked forward to seeing me scamper through the kitchen as quickly as possible whenever they took it over for whatever they were doing, and he was always equally curious about what would happen behind my door, especially when he could hear me laughing with my friends or my CD player blasting Veruca Salt.

His friend — my brother — was out cold, snoring like a chainsaw. Nicholas glanced at him, then back at the door, then back at him, then back at the door. It was a bad idea; he knew it. I was off-limits. My brother hadn’t told him that explicitly, but he did express his distaste when Nicholas made an off-handed comment about me some a couple years ago and that was enough to deter him. But tonight, my brother was asleep, while Nicholas and I were still awake.

Nicholas turned his phone off then, quietly pulling the blanket off himself and standing up, padding quietly to the bathroom and closing the door to my brother’s room behind him. He tiptoed toward my door, taking a peek through the crack and hoping that maybe just indulging himself in the image of me would satiate him. But the moment he saw me on my bed — twiddling with the end of a braid or two or many as I laid on my stomach, propped up on my elbows as I read, my legs crossed at the ankles, the pajamas I wore barely covering anything — he knew just looking wouldn’t be enough.

My heart raced when I heard the faint creak of my door, but I didn’t look up right away, choosing to pretend I was so engrossed in my book that I couldn’t be bothered to see what had made the noise. What did make me glance over my shoulder, though, was the light clinking of glass.

I turned my head and saw Nicholas leaning against the doorframe curiously inspecting a nail polish I had left on the dresser that was near the bathroom door, a smirk on his face. That set my heart racing.

“Nicholas,” I spoke quietly as I closed the book in my hands, watching him as he continued to fiddle with the things on my dresser — nail polishes, bracelets, a hairbrush.

Nicholas didn’t say anything at first, just let his dark brown eyes sweep across my dresser one last time before they swept across my room, then finally landed on me and took in the scene — the book in my hands, the way I was sprawled across the bed, the faint flush on my cheeks that I couldn’t seem to shake.

He glanced over his shoulder back toward my brother’s bathroom door, still closed, before looking back at me. “Are you usually up this late?” he said finally, his voice low, like he was afraid of breaking the stillness of the moment.

I turned onto my side, giving him a better view of me in my pajamas. His gaze lingered on my torso, and I bit back a smile. “Sometimes.”

He dropped his arms and stepped in, his movements unhurried as he quietly closed the door behind him and looked around my room. I couldn’t believe it. He was in my room.

“Your brother’s out cold,” he said, almost like an explanation, as if I didn’t already know. He turned his head to look at the Heart poster on my wall, arching his back to stretch, his shirt riding up a little to show off the happy trail adorning his lower abdomen. I just about choked at the sight.

When he looked back at me, he had that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “You left your door open.”

“Did I?” I asked quietly, lying back down on my stomach but looking at him over my shoulder.

His smirk deepened, like he didn’t believe me for a second. “Didn’t you?”

My stomach flipped, the challenge in his tone making it impossible to look away, but I had to if I didn’t want him to see the heat rising to my cheeks. So I turned my attention back to my book but the words blurred together. I couldn’t focus, not at all. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

He stepped further into the room until he was at the edge of my bed looking down at me, still smirking. “You don’t sound very convincing.”

I shrugged, letting my fingers trail along the edge of the pages. I decided to give him an out, something that would test his resolve. “My brother’s gonna kill you if he finds out.”

He hesitated, just for a moment, before sitting down next to me. The mattress dipped under his weight, and I shifted slightly to face him. “I know,” he whispered as his eyes trailed my bare legs.

He slowly laid down on his side beside me, and it all started with a touch — his hand reaching out to rest on my thigh, his palm hot against my skin. My breath hitched, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I let my leg drift closer toward him, the faintest encouragement.

“I should go,” he murmured softly, his fingers brushing up and stopping just short at the hem of my shorts. His eyes flicked up to mine, gazing at me through his abundance of eyelashes.

I couldn’t look away from his dark brown eyes, the way they softened as they met mine, yet held something deeper — something that made my pulse race. I was quiet for a moment, savoring the heat of his hand on my hand, the warmth spreading all over my body. “Yeah, you should,” I whispered, my voice lacking any real conviction.

Neither of us moved.

Nicholas’s lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he just watched me, his gaze flicking to my lips, then back to my eyes. His hand inched higher, stopping just at the edge of my shorts again, as if he were waiting for a signal. And I gave him it, letting my book fall through my fingers and shifting closer toward him.

That was all it took. He leaned in, his hand sliding up my thigh as his lips captured mine in a kiss that stole the air from my lungs. It was slow at first, like he was testing the waters, but it didn’t take long for the tension between us to boil over. Quickly, the kiss deepened. His hands roamed, pulling me closer as I melted into him, my fingers tangling in his hair.

“Tell me to go,” he murmured against my lips, his breath warm on my skin.

I tugged him closer, “Stay.”

Nicholas’s weight pressed into the mattress as he rolled me over, his hands sliding along the curve of my waist and down to my hips as our legs tangled together. My fingers curled into the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him closer as the world outside my room melted away. Every shift of his body against mine, every brush of his fingertips against bare skin, ignited a fire I couldn’t ignore.

His lips trailed down to my jaw, slow and deliberate, sending a wave of heat rushing through me. His breath was warm against my neck, and I arched into him instinctively, feeling his body tense in response.

I tugged at the hem of his shirt, and he obliged, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor. My eyes traced the lines of his shoulders, the way his muscles moved as he leaned back down, his delicate chain dangling over me, his hands framing my face like he needed to commit every detail to memory. My own hands wandered, exploring the warmth of his skin, the tension in his back as he pressed closer.

The cool air hit my skin as he slid the strap of my camisole off my shoulder, his lips replacing it with a trail of soft, heated kisses that moved to my collarbone. My heart raced as I looked up at the ceiling of my room, every sense heightened as his hands roamed lower, his touch firm but unhurried.

My breath caught in my throat as Nicholas’s lips continued their slow descent, every kiss igniting sparks along my skin. My hands moved of their own accord, tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as I arched into his touch. His hand slid under the hem of my camisole, his fingers splaying over my ribs as he paused to look at me, his dark brown eyes asking the silent question.

I nodded, and his lips were back on mine in an instant, the kiss growing more intense, as he bunched the fabric in his palm and pulled it off of me, leaving me bare-chested. He pulled back and drank the sight of me in, his jaw going tight as he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against mine.

For a moment, I grew self-conscious, thinking maybe he would pull away completely now that he’s seen me half-naked. Maybe I didn’t measure up to the girls he’s been with. “Is something wrong?” I quietly asked.

Nicholas shook his head almost immediately, his forehead still resting against mine as he let out a shaky breath. His hands moved to cradle my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks as his dark brown eyes opened to meet mine. They were softer now, but no less intense.

“No, fuck no,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, like he was trying to find the right words and failing. He pulled back just enough to look at me, his brown eyes locking onto mine. “You’re perfect, (Y/N). That’s the problem.”

The raw honesty in his tone made my breath hitch, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping for a moment before flicking back up to him. “Then why did you—?”

“I needed a second,” he interrupted softly, his voice almost strained as he cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing over my flushed skin. “You’re just—you’re making it really hard to be the good guy here.”

His words sent a rush of heat through me, my heart pounding in my chest as I searched his face. “I’m not asking you to be the good guy,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.

“You sure?” he murmured against my lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because if we do this, there’s no going back. Your brother’s gonna kill me if he finds out, and I don’t—” He broke off, his jaw tightening as he pulled back to look at me again. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

I reached up to frame his face, my thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as I held his gaze. “I want this, Nic,” I said softly, my voice steady now despite the chaos in my chest.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his eyes searching mine like he was trying to figure out if I really meant it. Then, with a quiet curse, he groaned quietly, like he was fighting an internal battle, before he leaned down to kiss me again. This time, it wasn’t tentative or testing — it was all-consuming.

I gasped softly into the kiss, my hands gripping his shoulders as he pulled me closer, his body pressing against mine with a heat that made it impossible to think straight. His hands slid down my sides, his touch rougher now, less restrained, like he was done holding himself back.

Nicholas’s lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, and I couldn’t bite back the quiet moan that escaped me. He groaned in response, his fingers gripping my hips tightly as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. “Jesus, baby, you’re gonna wake the whole house,” he muttered, his voice rough and muffled against my skin.

I let out a breathless laugh, tugging on his hair to make him look at me. “You’re the one talking so much,” I shot back, my voice barely above a whisper.

His dark eyes narrowed slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in annoyance. “Oh, is that right?” he said, his tone low and dangerous as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear. “You’re the one moaning like you don’t give a shit if your brother hears us.”

My cheeks burned, and I glared at him, my hand smacking lightly against his chest. “You’re an asshole,” I muttered, but the smirk at the end of my lips betrayed any conviction I’d intended to convey.

Nicholas caught my wrist gently, grinning and clearly pleased with himself, and pinned it against the pillows above my head, “And you’re a fucking tease,” he whispered, a teasing glint in his eyes. He planted a wet kiss on my lips, murmuring, “Okay, we both stay quiet then, deal?”

I bit my lip, narrowing my eyes at him, the corner of my mouth twitching with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Fine,” I whispered, my voice barely audible but dripping with playful defiance.

Nicholas’s grin deepened, and he leaned down, brushing his nose against my own before pulling back completely and resting back on his heels as his fingers trailed down to the waistband of my shorts. His fingers lingered, his touch light but deliberate as his dark brown eyes locked onto mine. His teasing smirk faltered, replaced by something softer, something that made my heart pound harder than I thought possible. He hesitated for just a second, like he needed one last confirmation, and I gave him a small nod, my breath catching in my throat as I lifted my hips slightly.

He exhaled softly, almost like he was steadying himself, before he slid my shorts and underwear down in one smooth motion, leaving me completely bare beneath him. The air felt cool against my skin, and I had to fight the instinct to cover myself. Instead, I forced myself to hold his gaze, my cheeks flushed and my heart racing.

Nicholas’s eyes swept over me, slow and deliberate, like he was committing every detail to memory. He let out a quiet curse, his jaw tightening as he ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he leaned down to rest his forehead on my stomach and leaving lingering kisses near my navel.

My fingers instinctively found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as I looked down at him. He rested there for a moment, his breath warm against my skin as he closed his eyes, like he needed a second to process everything.

I let out a soft laugh, the sound trembling slightly as I tugged gently on his hair. “You’re so dramatic,” I teased, my voice light but full of warmth. “Are you sure you’ve seen a girl naked before?”

He shot his head up, his eyebrows flared in surprise, and for a split second, I thought I might’ve caught him off guard. But then his smirk returned, sharper now, and he grabbed both my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head as he shifted to cover me completely. “Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that,” he growled playfully, his voice dropping an octave as his free hand skimmed down my side, his touch light but promising.

I squirmed under him, trying to hide the way his teasing touch was already getting to me. I don’t know what it was about Nicholas that brought out this side of me — teasing, defiant — but I loved it.

“You’re such a—” My words cut off in a gasp as he pressed his hips against mine, the sudden pressure of his sweatpants against my bare self making me lose my train of thought completely.

Nicholas chuckled softly, the sound low and dangerous as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “What was that, baby?” he murmured, his tone smug. “You were saying something?”

I glared at him, my cheeks burning, and wriggled my wrists under his palm, “Nic, the longer you’re not inside me, the more time you’re giving my brother to wake up.”

Nicholas froze, his dark eyes widening for just a second before narrowing into something almost predatory. The smirk tugging at the corner of his lips turned wicked, and his grip on my wrists tightened slightly as he pressed his forehead against mine. But then, he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Fine,” he murmured, his tone dropping even lower, sending a shiver down my spine.

He released my wrists, and I immediately brought my hands to his chest, letting my fingers trail over the defined muscles before sliding them down toward the waistband of his sweatpants. My heart raced, my cheeks burning as I hooked my fingers under the fabric.

Nicholas shifted slightly, propping himself on his elbows as he watched me, his dark eyes hooded with intensity. The faint smirk tugging at his lips remained as I hesitated for a moment, my fingers gripping the waistband of his sweatpants. I could feel his breath on my skin, warm and steady, as if he were daring me to go further.

Slowly, deliberately, I tugged the fabric down his hips, the soft material sliding against his skin. His muscles tensed slightly beneath my touch, and I couldn’t help the way my breath hitched as his length slipped out — ready and aching. The tension between us was palpable, the room heavy with anticipation as I pushed his sweatpants lower until they pooled around his knees.

Nicholas’s hands found my hips, his grip firm but not rough as he leaned down to kiss me again, his lips capturing mine in a way that made me forget everything else. His body pressed against mine, the heat of his skin sending a rush of warmth through me as his hands trailed up my sides, fingers skimming the sensitive skin just beneath my ribs.

For a moment, we just stayed like that, our breaths mingling as we stared at each other, the unspoken tension between us reaching its peak. Nicholas’s gaze was intense, his dark eyes searching mine as if he were asking for permission one last time.

I didn’t bother nodding. Instead, I reached to wrap my hand around his length and guide him in, to which Nicholas responded by burying his head in the crook of my neck and muttering a quiet, “Fuck,” before reaching to replace my hand with his own. “You’re so wet already.”

The air seemed to still, the only sound in the room being the soft rustle of sheets and our breathing — ragged, uneven. Nicholas moved slowly at first, his grip on my hips tightening as he inserted himself into me. I let out a whimper as I felt every inch of him, the way he stretched and filled me, his warmth burning into me like a fire I never wanted to put out.

My hand found its way to his back, my nails digging lightly into his skin as I arched beneath him, a quiet gasp slipping past my lips. “Nic…” His name came out in a breathy whisper, and the sound of it seemed to spur him on. His hips moved, deliberate and measured, and every movement sent shockwaves through me.

“Baby,” he murmured into my neck, his voice strained and breathless. “You feel so fucking good.”

The heat pooling in my stomach grew with every roll of his hips, my body responding to him in a way that felt instinctual, like I had been waiting for this moment all along. His hand slid down to grip my thigh, pulling it higher around his waist as he angled himself deeper, drawing a sharp cry from me that I quickly muffled with my free hand.

“Shh,” he teased softly, his lips brushing against my ear as he chuckled, though his voice was tight with restraint. His breath was warm against my skin as he added, “You don’t want your brother barging in, do you?”

I shot him a glare through my haze of pleasure, but it was useless. Nicholas was in control now, and he knew it. The rhythm of his hips changed, slower but impossibly deeper, making it even harder to stay quiet. I bit down on my lip, my hand reaching to clutch at the sheets as waves of heat rolled through me with every deliberate thrust.

Nicholas shifted slightly, his lips brushing over my jawline before capturing my lips again in a kiss that was just as demanding as the way his body moved against mine. His free hand trailed up my side, his thumb grazing over the sensitive skin just below my ribs, making me shiver beneath him. His hand trailed further down, pressing down on my lower abdomen as if he could feel himself moving inside.

The added pressure made me gasp, my head tilting back as pleasure rippled through me, sharp and consuming, and quickly I covered my mouth again. Nicholas groaned in response, the sound low and guttural, and I realized just how loud he was getting. My heart raced, panic and desire tangling together as I reached up and pressed my other hand over his mouth, muffling the next moan that slipped from his lips.

His dark eyes widened in surprise for a split second before narrowing, a flicker of something mischievous and dangerous sparking there. His hips slowed, the deliberate roll of his body against mine making my own breathing hitch. He didn’t protest my hand, though — instead, he leaned into it, his tongue flicking out to trace along my palm teasingly, his eyes locked onto mine as if daring me to keep him quiet.

I clenched my jaw, trying to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was useless. Every movement of his hips, every flick of his tongue against my skin, was breaking me down piece by piece. He shifted slightly, angling deeper, and I bit down hard on my lip to stop the moan that threatened to escape.

I peeled the hand I had over my mouth, “Nic,” I hissed under my breath, my voice shaking as I glared at him. “You’re impossible.”

He grinned against my hand, his dark eyes hooded and filled with heat as his hips rolled again, drawing another muffled gasp from me. His free hand slid up my thigh, gripping firmly before pulling my leg higher around his waist, allowing him to press even deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, and my fingers flexed against his face as I tried to stifle my own sounds.

Nicholas groaned again, louder this time, and I pressed my hand harder against his mouth, shooting him a warning look. “Shh,” I whispered harshly, my voice trembling as I struggled to keep my own composure.

He nodded slightly, his lips brushing against my palm in silent agreement, but the way his hips moved told me he had no intention of slowing down. If anything, his pace quickened, each thrust more precise, more deliberate, as if he were testing just how far he could push me before I completely unraveled.

My hand stayed over his mouth, but I could feel the vibrations of his muffled groans against my skin, each one sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through me. My free hand clutched at his shoulder, nails digging into his skin as my body arched beneath him, helpless to the rhythm he’d set.

The tension between us was unbearable, every movement, every touch pushing me closer to the edge. My heart pounded in my chest, my breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as I fought to stay quiet, to stay in control. But Nicholas wasn’t making it easy. The hand he was using to press down on my lower abdomen slipped between us, his fingers brushing against the sensitive spot where our bodies met, and I couldn’t stop the sharp cry that escaped me.

His eyes flicked up to mine, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of his lips even as they remained muffled against my hand. He pressed his fingers harder, circling with just enough pressure to send me spiraling. My body tensed, every nerve ending on fire as pleasure crashed over me in waves, and I had to bite down hard on my lip to keep from crying out. That’s when he let go of the thigh he had wrapped around his waist and guided his hand over my mouth, pressing down to muffle my sounds.

And now, we were both there, covering the other’s mouth with our hands, trying so hard to fight back our moans. All we could hear was the sounds of skin and our labored breaths blowing through our nostrils.

The room was thick with tension, every sound amplified as we moved together, muffling each other as if the act itself were part of the thrill. Nicholas’s hand covered my mouth firmly, his dark eyes locking onto mine as his hips drove deeper, more deliberate. Each thrust sent waves of heat rippling through me, my body trembling as I teetered on the edge of control.

My breaths were shallow, uneven, my free hand clutching at his shoulder as the tension in my stomach coiled tighter and tighter. His other hand slid down my thigh, pulling my leg higher around his waist to angle himself deeper, and the sensation was overwhelming. My head tilted back, the cry building in my throat muffled against his palm.

I was close — so close it felt like every nerve in my body was on fire. Nicholas must have sensed it because his pace quickened, his movements more erratic as he chased the edge with me. His lips curved into a smirk against my hand, but the dark intensity in his gaze told me he was just as affected.

When the tension snapped, it was like a dam breaking. My thighs trembled around him, my breaths coming out in sharp, uneven bursts, as I arched beneath him, a wave of pleasure crashing over me so powerful it left me shaking. Nicholas’s hand pressed tighter against my mouth, muffling the sharp cry that escaped me as I clung to him, my nails digging into his back. He groaned in response, his movements faltering as he watched me fall apart beneath him, my hand covering his mouth falling limp over my forehead.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough and strained. His hand stayed firmly over my mouth, his other sliding down to hold my hip as his pace grew erratic, desperate.

I barely had time to catch my breath before I realized he was close too. His movements grew rougher, his control unraveling as his own breathing turned ragged. The hand covering my mouth loosened slightly, and I took the opportunity to nip at his finger, earning a low growl from him as he pulled it away.

Nicholas’s eyes snapped to mine, wide with surprise. “What the hell—” he started, but I cut him off with a fierce whisper.

“You better pull out,” I hissed, my voice sharp despite the trembling in my tone.

Nicholas’s jaw tightened as my words registered, his dark eyes narrowing with a mix of frustration and urgency. His breath hitched, and I could feel the tension radiating off him as he fought for control, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. “I’ve got it,” he muttered, his voice strained and low, almost as if he were trying to reassure himself as much as me.

“Nic,” I pressed, my tone firm despite the lingering haze of pleasure coursing through me. My nails raked lightly down his back, urging him to listen, to not lose himself completely.

He nodded, his movements becoming deliberate, careful. His hand shifted to grip my waist tightly, steadying himself as his breathing grew heavier. “I’m not gonna—” His words cut off with a guttural groan, and I felt his body tremble against mine, his restraint fraying with each passing second.

At the last possible moment, Nicholas pulled out with a strangled curse, his hand reaching down to finish himself. His dark eyes fluttered shut, his jaw clenched as his release spilled across my stomach, warm and lingering. The sight of him unraveling like that, the raw vulnerability etched into his features, made my chest tighten.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was our heavy breathing, his body still hovering above mine as he tried to catch his breath. His head dipped forward, his lips brushing softly against my temple as he whispered, “Are you okay?”

I nodded, my voice catching slightly as I answered, “Yeah, I’m okay.” My hands found his shoulders, grounding both of us as he shifted to sit back on his heels. His gaze softened as it roamed over me, searching for any sign of discomfort or regret.

“I didn’t—” he started, his voice hoarse and unsteady, but I cut him off with a small smile.

“You didn’t,” I reassured him, reaching up to trace the edge of his jaw.

Nicholas exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to my lips. It wasn’t rushed or heated like before; it was gentle, filled with a quiet kind of affection that made my heart ache. When he pulled back, his fingers brushed lightly across my stomach, his touch careful and almost apologetic.

“Let me clean you up,” he murmured, his voice soft as he reached over to grab a discarded shirt, maybe mine, from the edge of the bed.

I rolled my eyes, my lips twitching in amusement as I watched him carefully clean me up, his movements surprisingly gentle despite the teasing smirk still tugging at his lips. When he was done, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to my stomach, his lips lingering for just a moment before lying  down beside me, pulling me into his arms without hesitation. His body was warm and solid against mine, his breathing still slightly uneven as his fingers traced idle patterns on my shoulder.

The silence that followed was thick but not uncomfortable. Nicholas’s fingers moved gently across my skin, as if he were trying to map every inch of me. My cheek rested against his chest, his heartbeat steady and grounding beneath my ear. I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the moment, even as a thousand unspoken thoughts swirled between us.

It felt natural, lying there with him. His hand slipped to my hair, tangling in the strands softly, and I let out a contented sigh. Neither of us said anything for a long time, the stillness interrupted only by the sound of our breaths syncing together.

Nicholas was the one to break the silence, his voice low and husky. “What time is it?”

I blinked, my mind still clouded from everything that had just happened. I tilted my head toward my bedside table, squinting at the digital clock. “Almost three,” I mumbled.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face while tightening the arm he had around me briefly before letting out a resigned sigh. “Your brother’s gonna wake up in a few hours.”

“Exactly,” I muttered, untangling myself from his arms and sitting up, “which is why you need to get out of here.”

Nicholas smirked as he sat up as well, his dark brown eyes watching me closely. “Kicking me out already?” he teased, his voice low and playful. “I’m starting to feel used, baby.”

I rolled my eyes, climbing out of bed and walking past my dirty camisole that was discarded on the floor to reach into my dresser and pull out a clean shirt, “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“You’re the one that asked me to stay,” he quipped, leaning back on his hands as if he had all the time in the world.

I shot him a warning look, but it only seemed to amuse him further. Letting out an exasperated sigh, I grabbed my shorts from the floor as I walked back over to the bed and tossed them in his direction. “If you’re so eager to hang around, you can help me get dressed. I think that’s the least you can do after fucking your best friend’s sister.”

Nicholas froze for a moment, his smirk faltering as his dark eyes widened slightly at my words. A laugh escaped him, low and incredulous, as he shook his head. “Wow, you really don’t hold back, do you?”

I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Am I wrong?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he grabbed my shorts from where they landed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he beckoned me closer with a playful glint in his eyes. “Alright, princess. Let me help.”

With an exaggerated sigh, I stepped closer, though the flush creeping up my neck betrayed my nonchalance. Nicholas patted his thigh, gesturing for me to stand between his legs. His hands were warm as they slid up my calves to my thighs, holding me steady as he crouched slightly to help me into the shorts.

His movements were slow, deliberate, as he guided the fabric up my legs. He tugged the waistband gently, his thumbs brushing against my hips before snapping the shorts into place. His dark eyes flicked up to meet mine, and for a moment, the teasing glint softened into something quieter, something that made my heart stutter.

I reached for the clean shirt I’d left on the bed, but Nicholas beat me to it, picking it up with a smirk. “Arms up,” he instructed, his tone mockingly authoritative as he held the shirt open.

Rolling my eyes but unable to stop the small smile tugging at my lips, I raised my arms, letting him slip the shirt over my head. His hands brushed against my skin as he adjusted the hem, smoothing it down over my waist. When he leaned back on his hands to admire his handiwork, his smirk returned, but it was softer now.

“There,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “Good as new.”

“Thanks,” I said softly, my stomach fluttering. I bent down and reached for Nicholas’s clothes and tossed them to him.

Nicholas caught the bundle of his clothes easily, the smirk on his face growing as he stood to pull his sweatpants back on. I watched as he stuffed his dick into his sweats, my cheeks growing hot as he then slipped into his shirt. The chain around his neck glinted faintly in the dim light as he adjusted it, his dark eyes flicking back to mine.

Nicholas smiled softly, running a hand through his tousled hair as he stepped toward the bathroom door.

I followed him as he reached for the door, keeping my voice low. “Please don’t tell anyone about tonight.”

He turned to face me, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe as his smirk softened into something more genuine. “Relax, baby. Your secret’s safe with me.” The teasing lilt in his voice was gone, replaced by a quiet sincerity that made my chest tighten.

I nodded, swallowing hard as I tried to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. “Good.”

He pushed the door open slowly, peeking into the bathroom to make sure it was still quiet on the other side. Just as he stepped through, he glanced back over his shoulder, his smirk returning in full force. He winked, disappearing into the bathroom with a quiet click of the door.

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile. I stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door as the reality of everything that had just happened settled over me.

My skin still tingled everywhere he’d touched me, his hands, his lips, the way his voice had dropped when he whispered my name. It all replayed in my head, over and over and over. With a deep breath, I turned back to my bed, doing a horrible job of biting back the smirk on my lips.

I should’ve been panicking — thinking about what my brother would do if he found out, but all I could feel was a heady mix of excitement and disbelief. I had just slept with Nicholas, my brother’s best friend.

[sooniebby]

First Drabble after a month or so… Anyway, reader is a bisexual man, deal with it. Kinks are: voyeurism, spanking, dubcon, cucking, manhandling, praise, lite feminization. Brief mention of m/f sex but reader is a bottom and is mentioned to have a cock. BDSM relationship. Tw. Girlfriend is a bit abusive so skip this if bad doms bother you 🫶🏼 no set character, but I gave him a name! A little long tbh, not even a Drabble anymore

The things you do to make your girlfriend.

“Ohhh! Gimme more, Mark.”

You roll your eyes, checking your phone as your girlfriend gets her pussy fucked by your “friend” Mark. They were too busy having the time of their life to notice you stopped paying attention to them.

Your girlfriend, Lizzy, just loved this whole cuck fantasy shit. Whatever made her happy. You tried many other times to tell you that you didn’t necessarily like it but she always somehow made you the bad guy.

It was your first relationship dealing with BDSM, she was more than likely right since she had loads of relationships before you.

Right? She wouldn’t use your naivety to her advantage… right?

Hah.

Anyway, she loved making you watch other guys fuck her. Especially if their dick was bigger than yours. Though you didn’t like her saying your four inches was small.

Some guys had two inches, you were perfectly fine.

She began moaning something about how big he was, you didn’t really care at this point. You didn’t even know if you liked this whole BDSM thing. Sure, being the submissive was cool at first but now it just felt… eh?

You certainly hated her way of being a sadist. You hated being a masochist. It wasn’t fun.

But, whatever makes her happy. She’s freaking Lizzy Powers, the hot girl from your university. Every guys falls for her.

There was particularly high pitched yelp that caused you to look up in concern but it seemed Mark had just manhandled her into another position. You huffed and just went back to watching TikTok thirst traps.

The few times you looked at them to pretend you actually cared, Mark seemed set at staring right at you. His thrusts would always get faster each time. Weirdo.

Mark was popular, just like Lizzy. Loved by many girls (and guys). He was supposedly good natured and kinda but you kinda found him creepy, especially right now.

Was there something on your face???

“Ooh, (Name)~!” Lizzy whined, “he’s so much better than you… Just look at how well he fucks my pussy.”

She looked over at you—you quickly forced a frown. She loved seeing you “upset” about the other guy fucking her. Something about getting you to try harder when you fucked her the next day.

It worked the first time, but after that, you stopped caring. You kinda stopped caring to fuck her as well. It wasn’t even that she was fucking all these other guys. Something just kept bothering you.

Maybe the fact she didn’t go on regular dates with you and there didn’t seem to be an end to the dominate actions she had.

A shrill voice filled the room, Lizzy was cumming. You used to always love seeing this part—just seeing your gorgeous girl coming undone.

Eh, you’ve seen it before. These days, you found yourself watching the guy fucking her instead of her. Which was bad, that was cheating, or at least that’s what Lizzy had told you.

So you made sure to not look at Mark as much. Mark pulled out and rolled off his condom, tossing it into the trash bin next to the bed. The loud sound of music was still ringing downstairs from the party.

You would’ve thought this dumb party would’ve been done by now. “Was that it?” You asked, standing up. “I have a test tomorrow so I need to get back to my dorm.”

There was a moment of silence as Lizzy and Mark stared at you. Mark simply nodded and moved to put his jacket and shoes back on. Lizzy however, looked furious. She stood up abruptly, putting on her dress and stormed over to you.

Oh no.

You knew that look. She was about to “discipline”you. Her punishments were so humiliating—you hated it so much. 

You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. Her anger radiated off her face. Though she only stood to your chest, she managed to make your heart drop. There was no fun in this. But isn’t this what these relationships involve?

This was just how it was.

Her harsh words began spilling out, probably promising a punishment once you reached your dorm. Or possibly even when Mark left. But knowing her, she’d get a kick out of him watching.

Maybe you should’ve gotten a different girlfriend. This one doesn’t exactly make you happy. The thought couldn’t go any further though when Mark cleared his throat, ending Lizzy’s tyranny with ease.

“Your submissive isn’t exactly listening to you. I don’t mean to pry,” though the smirk on his lips tells you otherwise. “He looks legitimately scared. No sense of pleasure in him.”

Lizzy scoffed. “And you can do better? He’s just new to this, but it seems to be taking forever for him to listen to me.” She said, harshly poking at your chest with her finger. You try not to show any emotion from the slight pain.

“I can. But that’s if you want your submissive to get a taste of what’s better.”

A pin could be dropped and it would’ve made more noise. You watch in awe as Lizzy practically turned pink in the face. Wow, you’d never seen her this anger. There was silent rage in her eyes before she pulled a quick smile.

“Sure. He’s all yours.”

But Mark looked over at you. He stood up and took off his jacket, walking over to you with a look of determination. “Do you want it?”

“W..wha..?” You whispered, feeling dwarfed against his tall height. Jesus, does he play volleyball or basketball??

“Do you…” his hand slowly reached up, gently grabbing your chin before forcing you to look up at him. Oh. “…want me to touch you? Show you real pleasure.”

“….yes…”

His lips pulled into a slight smirk. “Good boy.”

So here you are, pants less. Mark was kinda enough to let you keep your sweater on. Lizzy was sitting at the desk chair you once were. You felt bad for whoever’s frat brother’s room you guys were in. Poor guy.

“Do you know why you’re being punished?” Mark suddenly said, sitting on the bed as he patted his lap.

You huffed and moved over to where he was. “Attitude probably.” You muttered, looking down at the bed sheets. Ooh, sport cars.

A tug at your sweater caused you to yelp as you were forced to look Mark in the eye. “Look me in the eye when you’re speaking to me.” With little force, he pulled you to drape over his thighs. They were quite muscular. Hm, maybe soccer?

You could feel Lizzy’s harsh glare on your body. It was just reminding you that she was so pissed over you having a slight attitude. Gosh, we doms all like this? You were seriously considering if you wanted to stay in this type of relationship.

Mark’s hand gently gripped your butt, softly massaging it. “I don’t think you deserve a punishment, but I’m going off what your dom wants. This can be really easy, (Name). Just count, okay? I’ll only go to ten.”

“Just ten?” Lizzy cut in.

“Ten is enough. He didn’t do anything terrible.” Mark countered. “Was I even speaking to you?”

You didn’t want to know the look Lizzy gave him. His hand gripped your ass before he released it, gently tapping it.

“(Name), what’s your safe word?”

You blinked, “what’s that?”

There was a tense silence. You tried to look up but Mark quickly pushed your head back down.

“Just whenever you want to stop. In case it’s too much.”

“Oh uhm. Stop should work fine, no?”

“Alright. You can always say red as well. Yellow would be if you just want a breather, okay?”

“Oh… would green be for keep going?”

Mark hummed, gently massaging your butt. “Mhm. Aren’t you smart?”

You blushed slightly. Oh, that was nice. When was the last time Lizzy complimented you?

“Starting now.”

You prepared for the worst. Whenever Lizzy spanked you, it was torture. Just hit after hit with no room to breathe. Didn’t help she would use those whips. It took you awhile to convince her to just use her hand.

Sometimes the damn thing would just start hitting your thighs or back. It was like she was purposefully missing your ass.

Smack!

Oh. What were you supposed to do? You could’ve sworn you were supposed to say something. That felt so weird, but you felt your toes practically curl as a gasp left your lips. He must’ve had experience doing this…

He gently rubbed the slight curve of your hip. “C’mon, count for me.”

Oh right. Counting…

“O..One.”

It went on, each time you momentarily went blank in the head. This wasn’t anything like Lizzy’s spankings. Mark was spanking you hard, definitely, but there still was a slight softness to it.

Hmm, you could probably revisit spanking.

“Ten…” You muttered, sighing in slight relief that it was over. You gently got up from Mark’s lap, ready to pull your pants back up but he pulled your back down.

“What are you doing?” He asked, rubbing your sore cheeks. You heard the sound of a container being opened before a cooling substance was rubbing onto your skin. It was pure relief. A relaxed hum left your throat.

Lizzy coughed, breaking the moment. You almost forgot she was there. “Are you done with my boyfriend?”

“Hm, no. His moans were cute, I want to hear how he sounds cumming on my cock.” He said bluntly, causing you to blush in pure embarrassment. His cock?! He was going to fuck you?!

Lizzy sputtered as she stood up. “What?! That’ll be cheating!”

“It’s just cucking. A man can cuck a woman.”

“But—”

“—It’s only fair (Name) can cuck you too.”

It was wrong. But his words made you grin. Cucking her back? Oh that sounded fun. Finally, she could feel how you felt.

“Okay.” You suddenly said, removing yourself off Mark’s lap. “You can fuck me.” You weren’t scared about anything going into your butt. Lizzy has fucked you with a strap before, those were the few times you had the most fun during sex with her.

Shame she never wanted to do after the two times.

You grabbed the lube that was left on the nightstand from Lizzy and Mark’s previous fuck and drizzled a decent amount onto your fingers. Sitting down on the bed, you began to stretch your ass open.

It was pretty easy, you did masturbate this morning with a dildo. The entire time, Mark just stared at you with hunger, his eyes watching your hole swallow your fingers with ease. He was probably expecting some type of resistance.

“I’m ready.” You muttered, moving to get into a doggy position but Mark grabbed your hand. A shriek left you as he picked you up with ease and plopped you down into his lap.

This position… was embarrassing to say the least. Your legs were wide open, your cock hard against your tummy. Lizzy was literally right across from you, seeing everything. You squirmed, wondering why Mark was so set in humiliating you.

His lips suddenly pressed against your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder. The sound of his zipper and slight shuffling filled your ears as his cock slipped out. Holy shit. He was definitely huge… maybe 7 inches??

“I want…” his hand reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look Lizzy straight in the eye. “Miss Powers here to see you cum on my cock, seeing you become my pretty little slut.”

Your cock twitched. His cock pressed against your ass, gently teasing your hole. Slowly, he lowered you down, letting the stretch become comfortable.

He was definitely huge. You didn’t understand how Lizzy took this thing without crying out in pain? Once he was fully in, you let out a shaky breath, gripping his hand that held your hip.

“Good boy. You’re taking me well.” He whispered, pressing a kiss on your neck. “Now move.”

“What?”

“Ride me.” Mark simply said, gently patting your thighs.

Holy fucking shit. You were supposed to ride this guy while your girlfriend watches? Jesus. You moved slightly, gripping his thighs as a way to hold yourself help as you began bouncing up and down.

The sounds of skin slapping filled the room, your soft moans right behind it. This was better than any strap. You could feel him inside you—his heat. A shudder left you when his cock pressed against your prostate. You quickly tried to keep that position, gasping at the constant pressure.

You practically forgot Lizzy was even there. All you cared about was getting off.

No, all you cared about was making sure Mark was enjoying it.

That was a first.

You glanced down, wanting to see if Mark was enjoying himself. The sight caused your hips to stutter. He was staring right at you, a smirk on his face. His free hand was gripping at your ass, pulling the cheeks apart slightly.

He broke eye contact to look down at your hole, laughing slightly. “It’s so cute. Hey, I’m your first real one huh?”

“Y..Yeah..”

“Good. I’ll be your only too.” He said, delivering a harsh spank on your ass. A scream escaped your lips as you stopped for a moment, trying to process everything that was happening.

First and only? What?!

“Hey, why’d you stop?” His hands suddenly had your waist in its grasp as he pulled you back. You were once again looking at Lizzy, seeing her pure anger. Gosh, you were really betraying your girlfriend.

“Why are you treating him so gently?” Lizzy suddenly commented.

Mark hummed. “It’s his first time. You always gotta treat beginners like glass. Once he’s properly trained… I’ll fuck him like the whore he is.”

“Whore..?” You muttered, but before you could ask why he kept calling you stuff like that, he was suddenly making you bounce up and down on his cock. It was so sudden, so fast and made your previous movement seem like nothing.

If this is him treating you like glass, you wondered just how mean he got…

Your back arched as you cried out, resting your head on his back as the pleasure began to take over. It was so much. But you wanted more. You just knew he could do more.

You wanted it so bad.

You were too lost in the pleasure to even notice that Lizzy left until the sound of a door slamming caught your attention. “Hng…? Why’d she..?”

“Fucking finally.” Mark muttered, pulling you off his cock. You whimpered, feeling your cock leak dejectedly with pre-cum. He plopped you down on the bed and pushed your legs up, putting you in a mating press.

His cock easily slid back inside as he leaned down, grinning. “Now that she’s out of the way, I have you all to myself.” He whispered, his hips moving upwards in harsh staccato type motion. Each slap caused a struggled gasp to leave you in tandem.

“Been hearing all about how you were just her little cuck. Using you because you knew nothing about how these type of relationships work..” he mumbled, a groan leaving his lips when you clenched around his cock.

You couldn’t even care about what he was talking about. You just wanted to cum already. This position was so odd, you didn’t even know your body could fold this far.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, baby. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself as mine.”

“Y..yours..? What..? Ngh, did you..”

“Fuck her to get to you?” He laughed, leaning down to kiss your lips. You blushed, shocked that the kiss was so sweet compared to the sinful thrusting. “Yeah, anything for you.”

Anything for you…? You didn’t get to truly understand just how deranged that sounded when he began to roughly fuck you. He managed to push your legs even further as he draped himself over your body, ravaging you like a cheap slut.

Your screams and his grunts mixed together as you gripped at the sheets beneath you for type of stability. If that stupid loud music from downstairs wasn’t still playing you were sure everyone would be able to tell you were getting your stomach rearranged.

“(Name)…”

You let out a strangled hum.

“Your pussy is tighter than hers.”

Yaaaay… first post back! Feel really proud of this one, though I didn’t mean to make it longer than a usual Drabble, felt like I had to add a lot of stuff before the porn… lmao.

@the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo @iwishtobeacrow @star-3214 @smellwell @ofclyde @flurrina @tehyunnie @remdayz @love-kha1 @mooncarvers-world @rhetorical-conscience @tomoeroi

[movingthisblogcelestialtarot11]

That was lovely 😍 Can you do eye contact in synastry pleasse

Eye Contact In Synastry

—Mars-moon asp, the moon person gives doe eyes, sweet and so whimsical, meeting the flaming passion and steam of the mars person. The mars penetrates the moon person to their core, and finds themselves melting like ice on a hot summer day. A cool chill blows their skin and for a moment their taken aback. The moon person yearns to crawl out their shell and into the mars persons arms.

—Venus-mars ultimate fuck me eyes. Lip bites and and leaning back as if inviting the mars person to pursue and the mars person eats it up. Eyes you like they found their prey. Ready to hunt and capture you in their arms, eyes boring into your playful ones.

—Moon-sun, the moon person hides their gaze away from the sun, retreating to their shadows. Scurrying off like the house pet they are, and the sun strides and shines their eyes onto the moon. Seeing them in their raw, vulnerable state. Exposing the moon. And the moon person gazes yearningly into the sun persons eyes, daring to ask the question: do you love me for who I am?

—Venus—sun, the venus persons eyes joyfully light up like pools of honey. Always expecting with eyes tracing the room, looking for the sun person. And somehow the sun person does the same until their eyes meet. Lines form underneath and wrinkles, unable to stop their grins.

—Neptune—Venus, the Neptune person create an escapade for the venus person. Alluring them and beckoning ever so slightly, if the Venus person blinked they’d miss it. Eyes wide and round, meek and transparent. And the Venus meets them with warmth, protection and familiarity, searching their eyes, as words unspoken pass between.

—Sun—neptune, the sun person looks for the neptune person in more ways than one. Looking to hold the neptune person in a comforting reassuring stare. You can do this. A subtle nod to the neptune person as their warm eyes trace over their figure, wrapping them in warmth like a blanket. Ensuring they’re tucked in and nothing is left behind. The neptune caresses the sun person and extends their mellow glances, calming them.

—Mercury-venus, the shiny and ever so bright mercurials eyes light up. Like a kid on Christmas day just to see the lovely, enthralling venus. How their eyes sparkle with enthusiasm and electricity to share their day with the venus person. And the venus surrounds them with loving, caring eyes, like a tender, invisible touch, only the eyes create distance for what hands would’ve done.

—Pluto-venus animalistic, raw in its entirety. Undressing each other in the room filled with others yet no one can compete. Eyes scanning the room for the familiar doe eyes of the Venus person, and deepening in desire. Persistently gazing until the Venus catches theirs and begins to play this game. Watching their every move and studying their mannerisms. Ingraining their image like a painting. The venus person knows there’s something so subconsciously disturbing and unnerving to the Pluto person. Your eye contact makes me shiver.

—Venus-venus and gazing at each other like it’s been decades since you two saw each other. Lovingly, caressing with eyes over forms with words unsaid. A slight furrow to the brows and a longing to be held, eyeing them, drinking them in as if this were the last moment you’d see them.

—Mercury-moon, instantly the mercury settles and their lively, frenzied eyes lower. Half lidded in a haze and grounded by the moon persons languid gaze. Calm. Soft. Patient. Alone their mind has so many tabs open, but with the moon person only one exists: this moment. Their eyes soften and a moment of reprieve crosses them.

—Mars-Neptune creating a violent clash, turbulent and unpredictable. Mars eyes are firm, set and locked onto the neptune whose eyes do nothing to help their impending curiosity. The neptunes eyes are boundless, held together by string and thread. The more the mars person glares to see them clearly, the image of their eyes blur more. Mars can never tell whats going on behind the neptunians siren eyes, always half lidded in a daze, far off in a fantasy.

—Sun-mars and your eyebrows raising, a pause and then theirs, and then a grin, and wrinkles line under the eyes as laughter spills out. Like two old friends seeing each other and catching up, always peering up from whatever they do, catching and affirming. Eyes never stay long on objects that don’t matter, like their mug. Keep talking to me.

—Pluto-mars feeling like each other’s gaze is like a hot poker tracing flesh. Warmth travels up the slender of your back, and eyes widen slightly to see the pluto person leaning forward to gaze boldly in your eyes. Eyes searching yours. Feeling the same escalating tension. They always do this. The leaning in thing. And yet the mars person meets back with resistance of their own, their gaze tracing the pluto persons flesh like a pointed knife, sharp and calculating.

—Mars-Venus and bringing venus person to the ninth circle of hell over and over again, eyes daring and blazing with an unbridled passion for life. The venus persons’ eyes widen like a gazelle, at the unpredictable nature of the mars person.

—Neptune-venus and being unable to sleep. The venus person cannot forget the neptunians eyes. It’s stained in their mind and years later they wake up, seeing their gaze behind their eyelids like the distant memory the neptunian was.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hopefully tumblr doesnt eat this up again 😭

i was wondering how the batfam would reacted to getting caught watching edits of celebrity!reader

I’m just going to put them in a relationship with Celeb! reader just to make things easier for myself.

Dick doesn’t give a fuck if he’s caught watching edits of you! You’re his spouse of course he’s going to save each and every edit there was of you because it’s be a crime if he didn’t.

He’ll even show you the ones where he thinks you’re the hottest in shamelessly with a smile. He honestly can’t get enough of the edits that his FYP is filled with them and snippets of interviews that transition to the edits as well.

Dick has no shame in being caught because why would he? You deserve to have a thousand of edits in your name and Dick has one too many edits saved in his phone, so much so that your surprised his phone still somehow has storage for the next wave of edits that he’ll be saving should he deem them worthy.

‘Babe come look at this edit of you! You look hot!’ Is the most often used when Dick is showing off an edit of yourself to you in hopes of getting your opinions on it. You don’t mind people making edits, especially didn’t mind them now when Dick would shout ‘my spouse is fucking gorgeous! God damn’ out of seemingly nowhere.

You’re not even surprised when his Lock Screen is a live wallpaper of the edit itself, dick really didn’t have any problems showing you off in any capacity at all.

Jason is either calm with being caught or he’s wanting to strangle Roy because who else is going to rat him out to you about watching edits of you other than him?

‘Chipmunk I can explain-‘ Jason would start.

‘There’s no need, I know you watch edits of me sweetheart there’s nothing to be ashamed of at all.’ You tell him as you cuddle up to his chest. ‘It’s complete fine I’m not going to shame you in watching them, I think it’s flattering that you do.’ You add and Jason couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as he held onto you, kissing your forehead.

‘It’s not my fault you’re perfect and the edits happen to capture that beauty sweetheart.’ Jason replied and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you looked at him sweetly, not knowing how much more you could possibly love this beautiful man as much as you could, especially when his cheeks flush with a red colour while he scratched his nose sheepishly.

You didn’t mind that he was watching edits and while he was glad about that he was more than certain to watch them elsewhere, more specifically away from Roy before he can rat on him…again.

Tim is terrified the moment you catch him watching edits of you, so much so that he completely forgot to pause the edit as you stare at each other, accompanied by music playing in the background.

It’s hilarious to you but embarrassing to poor Tim who believes that you’d see him as a weirdo for watching them, but all you do is laugh and kiss the side of his head before fiddling his hair affectionately. ‘Watching edits of me are you? And here I thought you couldn’t get more adorable Timmy.’ You tease as you kiss his cheek.

‘You’re not weirded out?’ He’d ask, holding his phone to his shirt, not wanting you to know that he was more or less the one making them rather than watching them. He’s literally got several usb drives worth of edit material to make, no joke.

‘Nope just flattered.’ You replied before leaving Tim be before he passes out from embarrassment. Little did you know he’s making about ten more edits as we speak, all of which have to be perfect and he’ll watch them ten times over if he must, for no specific reason at all.

Bruce is just admiring his beautiful/ handsome spouse. That is all.

Alfred would’ve most likely told you that he’s been watching edits of you when you’re away. It’s adorable and you couldn’t help but smile at how your handsome boy has an hidden file on the bar computer dedicated to your edits. (Dick and Tim found it by pure accident and dick couldn’t hope but tell you about it.)

Needless to say you won’t see him watch the edits but you’ll hear from everyone else that he watches them and that about the closest you’ll get to catching him in the act of watching edits honestly. However don’t be surprised when you see a video from Stephanie of her filing Bruce somewhere as he watched the edits of you on the big screen of the bat computer, his eyes filled with pride and awe of his pretty/ charming spouse looking so effortlessly ethereal.

While you might not have caught him in the act yourself, you still found yourself smiling at Bruce smiling up at the edits of you -and sometimes him because you’re a power couple- as a warmth encased your whole being, buts that’s more than enough for you as it can act as your own little secret.

Damian is good at keeping his little secret safe, so you seeing him watch edits of you were slim to none, and even if you did you catch him in the act you would have to have been blessed by Lady Luck herself.

He’s a little embarrassed that you caught him in the act, mainly because he thought he was better than this to let his guard down to be caught in an act like this, then he’ll become irritated at the fact that you had came into his own room just to catch him watching edits of you.

‘You’re watching edits of me.’ You said.

‘And? Did you seriously come into my room to tell me that? What happened to respecting my privacy?’ He retorts, arms cross over his chest. He didn’t care that you caught him, he’s just more or less annoyed with his privacy being violated.

‘Sorry my sweet I should’ve knocked, but you haven’t answered my question.’ You apologised with a little hug and a kiss to his forehead and Damian found himself forgiving you in an instant as he brought you back into a short lived hug, hiding his flustered face in the depths of your neck, tightening his grip on you.

‘Tim hacked my phone.’ He says in response and you just let it slide, knowing that he’ll admit to it sooner or later and not when he’s being cornered into talking. You knew he watched the edits because he’s totally infatuated with his spouse and Damian knew it too, but wouldn’t dare tell you until this moment has passed you both by.

So until then he’ll watch the edits in secret because he can’t get enough of how gorgeous you looked in them.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Ooo hii can I please request a Bucky x fem!reader where Y/n has had necromancy powers ever since she was a little girl (definitely made growing up hard because it’s hard to tell the difference when she’s talking to a ghost and when she’s talking to a living person , and the adults in her life never believed her). Now, as an adult, she lives with the Avengers at their HQ (not officially an Avenger, though Steve has been trying to convince her to become one for years). She had met Steve not that long after Loki’s attack on NY, he found a very overwhelmed Y/n talking to herself in an alley (a lot of people died after the attack so she would’ve had a lot of ghosts trying to talk to her), her eyes glow when she’s using her powers so Steve put two and two together that she’s probably a mutant. He convinced her to live with the Avengers and said he believes her when she tells him what she can do. Anyways, one day she somehow runs into The Winter Soldier (before CA: Winter Soldier), and Bucky has briefly woken up from being brainwashed and ran away from Hydra, and the two of them fall in love, only for Hydra to find him and force him back and Y/n ends up finding out she’s pregnant after he’s gone🥺. She refuses to tell her friends (The Avengers) who the father is and what happened to him but they promise they’ll be there for her🥺 She has a daughter and the Avengers help her raise her (Steve can’t help but think that this little girl is the spitting image of Bucky, but he knows it can’t be true because he “died” in 1945). Fast forward to after Steve finds out his best friend is alive, and he tracks him down to Romania, Steve brings Bucky back to the Avengers Compound (The Avengers never broke up) and the first person he sees is Y/n, with a 4 year old little girl who looks just like him🥺 (they’d both start crying and be so shook and run into each others arms🥺)

They’d have a lot of explaining to do to the other Avengers lol

Spitting Image Of Him » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Female Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America, the Avengers, and daughter Lucy

Summary: Bucky somehow manages to briefly escape HYDRA and meets you, which results in you and him falling in love and you having his daughter and Steve can’t help but notice how much your daughter looks like Bucky and you eventually explain everything to the Avengers.

Warnings: Fluff, language, pregnant!reader, mom!reader, dad!Bucky, HYDRA, crying, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the beautifully descriptive request @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵

A/N #2: Bold text is note from HYDRA.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

Not long after Loki’s attack on New York, you could still hear the voices of the people who didn’t make it. You’ve had necromancy powers since you were a kid. Meaning, you can hear the voices of the ghosts of dead people and sometimes it’s hard for you to know if you’re talking to an alive person or not.

Today was one of those days of you. You could hear the voices of the people who didn’t make it from Loki’s attack. You made a beeline to an alleyway. You sat down on the concrete, leaning your back against the brick wall. You covered your ears to try to tune out the voices of those people, which works sometimes.

“Not real.” You kept repeating to yourself.

Steve’s enhanced hearing picked up the sound of a voice as he was walking down the street. He heard it coming from the alleyway he was about to walk past. He followed the sound of the voice, leading him to you. Steve saw you sitting on the ground with your ears covered.

“Ma’am, are you ok?” Steve asks softly.

You yelped when you heard a new voice. You uncovered your ears and looked up at the man. Your mind was all over the place that you couldn’t tell if he was a ghost or not.

“Are you a ghost?” You asked in a shaky voice.

“No.” He answers.

You continued to stare at him, trying to figure out if he’s alive or a ghost. Steve crouched down in front of you. You pressed yourself more against the brick wall.

“Can I see your hand?” He asks.

You silently stared at him for a few seconds before extending your hand to him. Steve gently put your hand on his chest where his heart is. You relaxed when you felt his heartbeat.

“I’m not a ghost.” He assures. “What’s your name?” He asks.

“Y/N.” You answered quietly.

“I’m Steve.” He introduces himself.

Steve watched your eyes glow. That was enough to tell him that you have powers of some kind.

“Come with me.” Steve says, standing up and holding his hand out to you.

“Where?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I’m going to help you out and give you a place to stay.” He says.

You slowly put your hand in his and stood up. Steve took you to the Avengers compound. You’ve seen the building from the outside, but you’ve never been inside before.

“What is this place?” You asked, looking around.

“Avengers compound.” Steve answers.

Steve lead you to the lounge room where the Avengers are.

“Guys, this is Y/N. She’s going to be staying with us.” Steve says to the Avengers.

The Avengers introduced themselves to you. You gave them a smile and shyly waved at them.

“I’ll show you to your room.” Steve says.

You nodded and followed him to the floor where the bedrooms are. Steve opened the door to an empty bedroom, allowing you to walk in the room first. The bedroom was already full with a bed, nightstand, dresser, and a TV. There was also a closet and a bathroom in there.

“My room is right next door if you ever need anything.” Steve says, pointing to the right.

You smiled and nodded.

“I’ll let you rest now. Let me know if you need anything.” He says.

You nodded and he left the room.

It didn’t take you long to adjust to living in the Avengers compound. It took a few weeks for you to adjust to your new living arrangements.

“Hey, Y/N.” Steve smiles as he walks in your room. “Have you thought any more about becoming an Avenger?” He asks as he sat down on your bed.

“No. The thought of it is cool, but I need more time to think about it.” You say.

“That’s ok. Take all the time you need.” He says softly, putting a comforting hand on your knee.

You smiled at him.

Later that same day, you were walking down the street. You weren’t sure where you were going. You just wanted to clear your mind. You were looking down at the ground as you were walking and you accidentally bumped into someone. You lost your balance and fell to the ground, making an “Oof” noise.

“Sorry.” The man says.

He holds out his hand for you. You looked up at him and put your hand in his. You gave him a smile as he helped you up.

“Thank you, sir.” You smiled.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles back. “I’m James, but everyone I know calls me Bucky.” He introduces himself.

“I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself.

You couldn’t help but notice how handsome Bucky is. Bucky admired your beauty as well.

“You’re handsome.” You blurted out.

“Thank you, doll. You’re gorgeous as well.” Bucky says with a smile.

You blushed when he called you gorgeous. Goosebumps appeared on your skin when Bucky’s right hand cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your skin.

“I have a strong feeling that we’re going to get along well.” He says softly.

“Me too.” You say, smiling up at him.

Over the next few days, you managed to sneak out of the compound without any of the Avengers noticing. You went to the small apartment Bucky is currently hiding out at. You and Bucky have your own knock when you two knock on the door so you two know it’s each other and not anyone else.

“Come in, doll.” Bucky whispers, taking a quick peak left and right to make sure you weren’t followed.

You quickly went inside his apartment. Bucky closed the door and locked it. He then greeted you with a sweet kiss. He put on his hands on your waist and pulled you against him. You smiled against his lips and put your hands on his chest.

“I was wondering when you were going to come by.” He says softly.

“I have to be sneaky around the people I live with when I leave.” You say with a small giggle.

You told Bucky that you live with a few people, but you didn’t tell him that they’re the Avengers. You don’t want him to think you and them are after him, in which you’re not. You and Bucky are still getting to know each other and have a good thing going.

“You know how much I love you?” He asks softly.

“The kisses you give me tell me how much you love me.” You smiled.

“I’ll give you more kisses to show you how much I love you.” He murmurs, kissing you sweetly and passionately.

You ended up losing track of time and spent the night with Bucky that night. As you were sleeping peacefully in Bucky’s arms, he heard all too familiar footsteps outside the door. His heart started pounding. He was expecting HYDRA or whoever was outside the door to break down the door, but it was just the opposite. He seen a folded piece of paper slide under the door and inside the apartment. Bucky carefully and quietly got out of bed so he didn’t wake you up. He picked up the paper and unfolded it, reading what it says. He used the street lights shining into the apartment as light to read.

Soldat, we know you escaped. We also know you got yourself a girlfriend. If you want her to stay unharmed, you return to us. If you don’t, you’ll see her all bruised and bloody. We will use force to make you return to us if we have to.

Bucky’s jaw clenched at the part of the note where they threatened to beat you bloody and bruised. He crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it somewhere in the apartment and ran his fingers through his long hair. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Bucky?” You mumbled.

“Sorry, doll. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Bucky apologizes softly.

“It’s ok.” You rubbed your eyes and sat up, turning on the bedside lamp. “What are you doing up?” You asked.

Bucky walked over to the bed and sat down in front of you, putting his hands in yours.

“Remember when I told you about HYDRA?” He asks.

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“Well…” He starts in a shaky voice. “They found out I escaped and they threatened to hurt you if I don’t go back to them.” He explains.

“No.” You said, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. “Please don’t go back.” You pleaded, your voice cracking.

“I don’t want to go back, but I want you to be safe.” He says.

Bucky watched a tear roll down your cheek.

“It’s going to be ok, doll.” He whispers, pulling you in for a hug.

He let you cry it out for a few minutes before kissing you passionately. He wiped your tears away with his thumbs and looked deep in your eyes.

“I want you to know that I love you more than anything, babydoll.” He whispers.

“I love you too, Bucky.” You whispered back.

Bucky went back to HYDRA immediately. He didn’t want them to lay a finger on you so he did what they told him to do.

A few days later, you were staring at a positive pregnancy test. You were in shock that you didn’t know what to do at first. You didn’t even hear the bathroom door open.

“Y/N, are you ok?” Natasha asks softly.

You yelped and jumped when you heard her voice, dropping the pregnancy test on the bathroom floor. Natasha picked it up for you, her eyes widening when she seen that it’s positive.

“You’re pregnant?” She asks.

You nodded your head yes, nervously fiddling with your fingers. You were caught off guard when she hugged you. You hugged her back.

“Congratulations!” She smiles.

“Thank you, Nat.” You say quietly.

“Do you know who the father is?” She asks curiously.

“No.” You lied.

You then went to the conference room where Steve and the rest of the Avengers are. Natasha followed you behind you.

“Y/N has something to tell everyone.” Natasha says, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

The Avengers stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to you. You felt nervous as hell under their stares.

“I’m pregnant.” You announced to everyone.

Everyone jumped up from their seats to hug you and congratulate you. You smiled at them and thanked them.

“Do you know who the father is?” Steve asks.

“No.” You lied again.

You feel bad about lying to the Avengers about not knowing who the father is, but you don’t want them to know that it’s Bucky. Especially Steve. How do you tell your friend that you’re pregnant with his best friend’s baby? For now, you’re just going to keep it to yourself.

The Avengers were very helpful throughout your pregnancy. They got you what you need for the baby. They also set everything up in the nursery, putting girl stuff in there. When it was time for the baby to be born, Steve was right by your side during the whole thing. You had a baby girl and named her Lucy. Steve held her as you took a nap.

“You’re adorable.” Steve coos at Lucy, smiling down at her.

Steve hums to himself when he notices something interesting about Lucy.

“You know, you look like someone I knew years ago.” He says to her.

The more he looked at Lucy, the more he notices a resemblance of Bucky. His eyes widened.

No… could he be- no. Bucky fell off the train in 1945. He witnessed it.

4 YEARS LATER

The more Lucy grew and got older, she resembles Bucky even more. She just turned 4 and looks like a spitting image of him. Steve noticed it and it blew his mind how this little girl looks like his best friend. Lucy’s hair and eyes are the same colors as Bucky’s, along with her facial features.

“Are you sure you don’t know who the father is?” Steve asks you once more.

“I don’t know who he is.” You lied once again.

Steve didn’t want to keep badgering you on it so he dropped it. He still thought about his suspensions though.

If Bucky is alive, why didn’t he come find Steve? How did he even survive the fall off the train? No one can survive that.

“Uncle Steve!” Lucy shouts, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Steve smiles when he sees his niece running toward him. He picked her up and hugged her.

“I want to go to the park please.” She says, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

“It’s too cold to go to the park, princess.” Steve says softly, referring to the snow outside.

Lucy huffed and crossed her arms over her chest with a pout on her face. Steve couldn’t help but smile at how cute she’s being.

“Why don’t you go color?” He suggests. “I have to talk to uncle Sam and aunt Natasha.” He says, gently putting her back down on the floor.

Lucy nods and runs to the lounge room where she left her coloring books and coloring supplies. Steve went to find Steve and Natasha, finding them in the conference room talking.

“Hey guys, I need your help with something.” Steve says.

“With what?” Sam asks.

“Tracking down someone.” He says.

“Who do you need to track down?” Natasha asks.

“My friend Bucky.” He says.

“I thought you said he fell off a train in 1945?” Sam says.

“I did, but now I’m thinking he somehow survived it.” He says.

“What makes you think that?” Natasha asks.

“Y/N’s daughter looks a lot like Bucky.” He says.

Sam and Natasha stared at Steve like he’s crazy.

“I know it sounds crazy, but I’m thinking that Bucky is Lucy’s father.” Steve says.

Sam’s and Natasha’s eyebrows shot up at his theory.

“Are you guys going to help me or not?” He asks.

Sam and Natasha agreed to help Steve. After a lot of research, Steve finally found the answers he was looking for. Bucky is alive and is hiding out in an apartment in Bucharest, Romania. Steve’s mind is blown. All this time, he thought his best friend was dead when he’s actually alive.

“Hey guys. Have you seen Lucy? It’s her lunchtime.” You say, poking your head in the conference room.

“She’s coloring in the lounge room.” Steve tells you.

After a couple days, Steve came up with a plan to get Bucky from Romania and bring him home. He told the Avengers to keep an eye on you so you didn’t suspect a thing. Steve was about to get on the quinjet, but Lucy stopped him before he could.

“Uncle Steve, where are you going?” Lucy asks before Steve got on the quinjet.

“I have something important to do.” Steve tells her.

“Is it a mission?” She asks curiously.

“Kinda.” He says.

“Can I come with you please?” She asks.

“I wish you could, but you can’t, sweetheart.” He says.

Lucy huffed loudly and crossed her arms over her chest with a pout on her face, sitting down on the floor. Steve crouched down in front of her.

“If it makes you feel better, I have a big girl mission for you.” Steve says.

“Big girl mission?” Lucy asks.

Steve smiles and nods.

“Your mission is to protect mommy till I get back.” He tells her.

“I can do that!” She says loudly.

Steve smiles and kissed the top of her head.

“I’ll be home before you know it, peanut.” He says, playfully ruffling her hair.

Lucy gave him a hug for good luck before running to find you. Steve smiles as he watched her to find you before getting on the quinjet.

“Mommy!” Lucy shouts throughout the compound.

“Yes, sweetie?” You say, walking out of the kitchen.

“I have a mission!” She announces, standing tall in front of you as if she were in the Army.

“Oh yea? What might that be?” You asked curiously.

“Uncle Steve gave me a big girl mission to protect while he’s gone.” She says.

“Ooh! I’m definitely going to be protected, princess.” You say.

“It’s Sergeant Princess!” She says.

“Oh, my apologies, Sarge.” You say, playfully saluting her.

Meanwhile, Steve found where Bucky is currently staying in Bucharest. The apartment Bucky has been staying is small, but it looks like he tried to make it as homey as he could. After a few minutes, Steve turned around to see Bucky standing a few feet behind him.

“Do you know who I am?” Steve asks.

Bucky stared at him silently for a few seconds before answering him.

“You’re Steve. I read about you in the museum.” Bucky finally answers.

Steve nods.

“I’m not here to fight you or anything. I’m here to bring you home where you belong.” Steve says.

“Where’s home?” Bucky asks.

“New York.” He says.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m staying here.” He says.

Steve didn’t want to have to resort to you as an option, but it looks like he has no choice.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Steve says.

“Y/N?” Bucky asks softly.

“Yes. Do you know her?” He asks curiously.

“Yes.” He said. “Is she ok?” He asks with worry in his voice.

“She’s more than ok, but she needs you more than you think.” He says softly.

“Take me to her.” He says.

Steve felt relieved that Bucky finally agreed to go home with him. Meanwhile, Lucy is being the mini Avenger Steve said she could be while he was gone. You, on the other hand, are curious to know why Steve went on a mission without any of the Avengers.

“Do you guys know why Steve went on a mission without any of you guys?” You asked the Avengers.

The didn’t say anything. They just shrugged their shoulders. You stared at them, narrowing your eyes a bit and crossed your arms over your chest, giving them the mom stare. They know that look all too well from when you give that look to Lucy.

“No matter how long you look at us like that, we’re not telling you where Steve went.” Tony says.

You sighed and went to see what your daughter is up to. You found Lucy in her bedroom playing with her stuffed animals and drawing on blank pieces of different colored construction paper.

“Hi, mommy!” Lucy smiles up at you. “Do you want to color with me?” She asks, holding up a piece of paper and a marker toward you.

“I would love to, sweetie.” You smiled.

You sat down on the floor across from her and started drawing doodles on the paper that Lucy handed you.

The next day, Steve brought Bucky to the compound. Bucky was nervous, but excited to see you.

“Sam, where’s Y/N?” Steve asks.

“She’s picking Lucy up from preschool. She should be back any minute.” Sam says.

“Who’s Lucy?” Bucky asks, looking from Sam to Steve.

Steve and Sam stayed quiet. Steve so desperately wanted to tell his best friend that Lucy is his daughter, but it’s not his place to tell him.

“Let’s just wait for Y/N.” Steve says.

You and Lucy walked in the lounge room a short moment later. You stopped in your tracks when you seen Bucky.

“Bucky?” You say, completely speechless.

“Hi, doll.” Bucky says softly and smiles.

You walked over to him and hugged him tightly. Bucky wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. Tears of happiness rolled down your cheeks, along with Bucky. Lucy was standing a couple feet away in a state of confusion.

“Mommy, who is he?” Lucy asks, pointing at Bucky.

You pulled away from Bucky and looked at your daughter. Bucky looked at her too, his eyes widening when he noticed that Lucy is a spitting image of him. Steve and Sam left the room, leaving the three of you alone so you can explain everything to Bucky and Lucy.

“I owe everyone an explanation and I might as well start with you two.” You say.

Bucky and Lucy sat down on the couch while you stood in front of nervously and fiddled with your fingers. You took a deep breath before saying anything.

“Bucky, I found out I was pregnant with your baby shortly after you went back to HYDRA. Lucy is your daughter. She’s 4 years old.” You explained.

Bucky’s eyes went wide when you said that. He’s in complete shock from what he just heard. Lucy looked up at him with a curious look on her face.

“You’re my daddy?” Lucy asks.

“I guess I am.” Bucky says.

Lucy crawled onto Bucky’s lap and hugged him. Bucky hugged her back. He felt a new warmth in his heart. You smiled at the two of them as they hugged.

“I’ll let you guys get to know each other while I explain everything to everyone else.” You say.

You left the room and went to the conference room where all of the Avengers are. All of them turned their attention to you when you walked in the room.

“I owe all of you an explanation.” You said nervously. “This may be a surprise to all of you, especially Steve.” You began. “First of all, let me start off by apologizing for lying to all of you. I do know who Lucy’s father is and her father is Bucky. Before I got pregnant with Lucy, him and I were in love.” You explained.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Natasha asks.

“I don’t know.” You mumbled and shrugged.

You looked down to avoid eye contact with any of them. Steve walked over to you and hugged you.

“It’s ok. We understand.” Steve whispers.

“You do? You’re not mad at me?” You asked.

“I’m not mad.” He says softly.

You smiled and hugged him.

“Thanks for understanding.” You murmured. “I’m going to check on Lucy and Bucky.” You say.

You went back to the lounge room to see Lucy and Bucky getting along perfectly.

“I see you two are getting along very well.” You say.

“Me and daddy have the same color eyes!” Lucy says.

“That’s right, sweetie. You do.” You smiled.

You sat down on the couch next to Bucky.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” You apologized to Bucky.

“You don’t have to apologize, doll. I’m just happy you’re giving me a chance to be a father to Lucy.” Bucky says.

You smiled and pecked his lips softly.

“I love you, Bucky.” You murmured softly.

“I love you too, babydoll.” He whispers.

“I love you guys too!” Lucy chimes in.

“We love you, princess.” You and Bucky say in unison and gave her lovings.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[slytherinshua]

✦　HEAVEN'S ALREADY IN MY ARMS　( 박지훈 )

genre fluff , established relationship , park jihoon x fem!reader   cw kissing   wc 780   request no   note a couple of people were asking for more jihoon fics and i wanted to repost this to my main (originally written for my f1 blog) so i hope you enjoy!!   net @kstrucknet @daydreamnet

The lights had dimmed and almost all the guests had already left the party. The few left were lingering on the sides of the room, too drunk to notice the lovesick couple still swaying slowly in the middle of the dance floor, hands never leaving each other's bodies.

Jihoon’s palms rested on your waist gently but firmly, like he would never let you go, but was also too afraid to hold on too tightly. You had your arms on his shoulders, hands clasped together behind his neck, keeping him close.

You were soaking in every moment of tonight as the first day you were reunited with Jihoon after weeks. You’d missed him more than you cared to admit, but he was beyond adamant with how much he had missed you. In every glance, touch, and smile you could feel the warmth behind them. Jihoon acted as if you had hung the stars in the sky just for him, and tonight, he would do anything you wanted.

He wasn’t much of a dancer now after being off the stage for a while, and it normally took more than one man’s persistence to get him up from his seat during a party. But with you, he found himself being the first one to ask you to dance. The party went by all too fast, or maybe the time was blurred with the glasses of alcohol you both downed. 

Now nearing the end of it, he wished he could pause the moment and have unrushed time to admire you in all your perfect beauty. Your fancy dress that you wore just for him. Makeup done to perfection, drawing his eyes from your eyes to your cheeks to your tempting lips, and then back up to your eyes again. Jihoon could barely wrap his head around how you managed to look this pretty, much less how you were really truly all his.

It was almost too good to be true.

But it was true, and Jihoon could feel it in the grounding nature of your touch on the skin of his neck, or the twinkle in your eyes as you looked at him, or the adoring smile that graced your lips. Somehow, he was the cause of it all.

“I don’t want this moment to end,” he whispered, entranced by you completely as you guided him through the mindless motions of the slow dance. It was bliss. No one to interrupt or observe the private moment. No one to disturb the perfection in your gaze.

“Then don’t let it,” you replied easily, as if you had all the answers to every question Jihoon could ponder upon. 

“I don’t know how I got so lucky with you,” Jihoon breathed, letting your hands pull his face closer to you until his forehead rested against yours.

“I think you’d rather be luckier to ever get rid of me,” you teased, and Jihoon smiled knowingly. 

After being attached at the hip for your entire childhood, it would’ve been more shocking to everyone if you ever decided to date someone other than each other. He was always a part of your life, always the centre of your world. The busy and hectic schedules of idol life and filming dramas were as familiar to him as they were to you, even though you had never tried your hand at it. But you watched him from the beginning, cheering him on as he achieved his dreams and reached for greater highs. Through all the success and failures, you were always there beside him. And it felt right. Jihoon couldn’t imagine his life any different.  

Jihoon didn’t consider himself a particularly patient man. He was willing to wait when he needed to, but when there was something he wanted right in front of him, he wasn’t going to hold back. So it wasn’t surprising when he leant up to kiss you like he had never known patience in his life, but you melted into him without a second to spare. His lips moving against yours resembled your dance the entire night. It was messy and uncoordinated at times, but it came from undeniable devotion, and that was all you could feel spilling from his plush lips. He loved you with everything he had and there was nothing more earnest than that. 

And when you pulled back from the kiss, giggling as you tried to wipe the smudge of lipstick that had gotten on his lips, Jihoon felt like he was on cloud nine. So consumed by his love for you that he was sure he could float up to heaven any second. Or maybe he was already there. Maybe this was what heaven felt like.  

misc taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @seunghancore,, @emmylksblog,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @chenleszone,, @cupidslovearrows,, @hursheys,, @loserlvrss,, @lexeees,, @cupidslovearrows

[r66dusthewriter]

New bruises, old stories.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader.

Masterlist | Who am i? | REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Era: Early Prison. Season 3

Word count: 1.3k

It had been your dumbest mistake to date but if you’d known it would end this way, you would’ve done it the minute the group found the prison. You and Daryl had been clearing rooms, trying to carve some semblance of safety out of the ruins, when you stepped into the old engine room and the door slammed shut behind you. It took hours to force it open, hours filled with bickering and blame, long silences thick with frustration and moments of rest that somehow softened into tired laughter from you. Giggles that made his heart race in a way he wasn’t sure he hated.

His deadpan muttering, always right on the edge of sarcasm, made something in your chest relax when you least expected it and then there were long stretches where you didn’t even try to get out. Not because you couldn’t, but because something about the situation felt unusually right.

A few nights later, unable to sleep, your feet lead you back to that room and there he was, sitting in the dark like he'd been waiting for you. After that day, it became a thing. Not out of restlessness, but out of choice. It became a sacred hour carved out of the daily chaos that no one knew about, where nothing was demanded of you except that you be.

Daryl was still hesitant in all the ways that mattered. Rough around the edges, unsure of the softness he deserved but you kept testing the lines, inching closer, teasing gently and the strange part was that he let you. Maybe even needed you to.

He’d been out scouting the day before and didn’t come back until well into the afternoon. He had spent the rest of the day fixing things, shadowing Rick, saying very little like always but when night came and the world went still, you knew exactly where to find him.

The moonlight painted silver lines across the floor, softening the shadows as rain fell, steady and heavy yet not loud enough to pop this bubble you were in. Daryl sat still at the top of some steps, your weight against him a kind of tether, grounding him more than he’d ever admit out loud.

Your head rested on his thigh, your fingers working slow, practiced strokes against the blade you were sharpening.The candle next to you both flickered in the breeze running through the room, casting soft shadows across the cold concrete and dancing light on your face. It was just enough for Daryl to see it, a thin line of raw skin and crude stitches breaking the familiar curve of your brow. He leaned forward slightly, squinting as his eyes adjusted in the dim glow, the hand that had been resting behind him now reaching toward you. His rough fingers brushed your hair back with more care than you expected, as though afraid you’d shatter beneath his violent touch. He didn’t say anything at first, just let his thumb hover near the wound like the skin there might burn him.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet like he didn’t want to wake the moment.

“Wha’ happened?” 

You didn’t look up, didn’t stop running the blade over the whetstone, only let out a soft breath through your nose before muttering “Fell of the bed”

The corner of his mouth twitched, not with amusement but disbelief. 

“We lie t’ each other now?” He asked, eyes never leaving your face. There wasn’t anger in it. Just a quiet kind of hurt, the kind that grows in the space where trust used to sit too comfortably. The silence stretched, only broken by the sharpening stone, the rain and the candles’s fragile flame next to you.

You chuckled quietly.

“We?” you repeated, eyebrow raised. It was the first time you ever heard him say anything like that “I’m already here Dixon. I don't know what else you want”

“The truth, for starters”

You rolled your eyes, a smirk pulling at your lips “Come to me tomorrow with some kind of list and you’ll find out why i spend so much time sharpening this” 

You tilted the knife, letting the candlelight glint off its edge, more in a teasing manner than a threat. 

Daryl didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. “Quit it with the threats ‘n start talkin’”

“It’s stupid”

He shrugged, like he had all night and you sighed, finally setting the knife and stone aside, letting the weight of it all settle in your chest. Slowly, you looked up at him and he looked down at you. His icy blues locked in, steady and relentless like they always were with you. 

“‘M sure whatever ya accidentally hurt yourself for was important t’ you.” he said, his voice low, even. “And we both know y’ain’t stupid”

Your lip curled. “‘We’, first and now compliments? Wow, you must be high”

He snorted, one of those quiet laughs that never made it past his throat “Talk”

The word was simple but it carried weight. Not a demand nor a plea, just a space. One he’d cleared for you.

“When I was little, I loved witch movies and one day I stole a rune book from the library…it wasn’t allowed for my age range. I must have read it a thousand times ... .So I started drawing runes on things wherever I thought it was needed” You wanted to stop there, but when you met his eyes, he was intently listening. You sighed “Anyway, I stopped at some point when I thought common sense should’ve kicked in but lately, I've been having some nightmares about being ripped apart by walkers—I said ‘fuck it’ and did what I used to when I was younger as my last resort. I got under my bed and drew one” You paused but Dayl didn’t speak, knowing there was more.

“Might’ve doodled something under yours too.” 

He blinked but his expression didn’t change much, just a slight lift of his brow, the faitest twitch at the corner of his mouth. You continued.

“Glenn caught me. I panicked and smacked my head on the metal bed frame trying to get out from under it like a damn racoon”

“Let me get this righ’,” he said, that gravelly voice coated in something between amusement and something far softer. “Ya got under m’bed t’ draw…magic symbols…’cause you were scared I migh’ die?”

“Well, when you say it like that it sounds bad…”

He chuckled, a real one that travelled through the room and over the rain hitting the outside walls. “Ya know, coulda just said somethin’. Like a normal person”

You groaned when he didn’t stop.

“Magic symbols…now I gotta get under there t’ see. Might lose an eye in the process”

“They’re called runes” You corrected, almost out of habit, voice soft. You sat up beside him, knees pulled close, the chill of the concrete floor seeping through your clothes. “Told you it was stupid,” you murmured, avoiding his gaze.

He didn’t respond right away. Just leaned back slightly, arms draped loosely over his knees, his expression unreadable. The quiet stretched thin between you, until even the rain seemed to hush, waiting. Then he shrugged, mostly to himself.

“Dun care if it’s runes or rabbit’s feet. If it helps ya sleep…if it means somethin’ t’ ya…’s good ‘nough for me” he paused “It still don’t mean it ain’t gonna take a lot fer ya t’ get rid’o me…” he turned to face you, his voice impossibly lower “Ya know tha’, righ’?”

You didn’t realize how close you’d moved until your eyes locked again, breath catching in the space between you. ALL you could offer was a short, hesitant nod. Your faces seemed to inch closer, the quiet moment stretching taut.

Then, like a whispered sigh, a sudden gust of wind swept through the room, cold and unexpected, raising goosebumps along your skin and snuffing out the candle’s gentle flame. The warmth vanished, leaving the shadows to hold onto that moment, that fragile secret, for a while longer.

[lyvhie]

★ ˙ ̟ ─── .“saudades”.

| summary | Was he supposed to miss you like that or is he going insane? Maybe a bit of both. | cw | fluff, gn!reader. | a/n | i love him.

Yushi’s foot hadn’t stopped tapping against the airport floor since the moment he stepped inside. Every few seconds, his eyes flicked down to his phone to check the time, only to sigh and lock the screen again. The whole thing would’ve been funny, adorable, even, if he didn’t look so close to spiraling.

Three months ago, he wouldn't have felt like this. Back then, you were just the person who made his heart stutter, made him lose track of what he was saying mid-sentence, made him feel like a walking cliché.

But now… now it was different, because you were together.

And until three weeks ago, he was totally fine with your trip. You both had made the most of the time before you left—cuddling, sleepy movie nights, texts that turned into calls that turned into “I’ll miss you more” wars. It was sweet. He thought it would hold him over.

He honestly didn’t think he’d miss you this much.

He didn’t even know it was possible—to miss someone so intensely that it started to feel physical. Sure, you kept in touch, exchanged texts, voice notes, and the occasional sleepy video call, but with the time zone difference and your packed schedule, it wasn’t always easy.

And maybe he was going a little crazy. At some point, he started seeing you in everything—more than usual. In a song playing on the radio. In someone's laugh across the street. Hell, once he swore he smelled your perfume in an empty elevator and nearly lost his mind right there. He was seeing ghosts of you everywhere, feeling you even in the tiniest things, like a stray breeze or a grain of sand that made no sense at all.

He wasn’t used to this. To feeling this much.

How could he have known that just one month without you would be enough to unravel him completely?

That’s why he was counting down the seconds, quite literally. Checking his phone every five minutes, bouncing his leg like he was wired with too much caffeine and too many emotions. Today was the day. Finally.

Of course he’d be at the airport. There was no universe where he wouldn’t show up to welcome you home. He’d been restless all day, barely able to sit still, picturing your face, your smile, imagining the exact moment he’d lay eyes on you again.

He just needed to see you. To hold you. To hear your voice, to bury his face in your neck and finally breathe you in again. To kiss you like the world had been holding its breath in your absence.

He snapped out of his thoughts the moment the screen flashed “Landed.” He shot up from his seat, like he’d been shocked with a bolt of electricity, fingers twitching nervously as he stretched his neck to see past the crowd. He bounced on the balls of his feet, scanning every face that passed with wide, frantic eyes.

And then—there you were.

Dragging your suitcase, eyes sweeping the crowd just like his had. You looked tired, sure, but somehow more beautiful than ever, like the glow of coming home clung to you. And the second your eyes found his, your entire face lit up, making his heart skip a few beats.

The moment your eyes locked, it was like everything around him blurred. Your face lit up, and he swore the world got just a little brighter. You both instinctively picked up your pace, almost tripping over your own feet in your rush toward each other.

He immediately opened his arms, no hesitation, and you barely had time to drop your bag before you were swept into a warm, tight embrace. You laughed, slightly muffled by his shoulder, as he practically clung to you. Any trace of his usual shyness was gone, he was holding you like he’d been starving for days and you were the only thing that could keep him alive.

“Hi, baby,” you murmured, rubbing slow circles on his back. “Did you miss me?”

“You can’t even imagine,” he whispered, voice almost cracking. He pulled back just enough to see your face, and yeah, his eyes were definitely a little misty.

He opened his mouth like he had something to say, but no words came. His face was doing all the talking—soft, overwhelmed, glowing. He looked like a puppy who had been waiting at the door for hours, tail wagging at full speed, ears perked up, whole soul buzzing with love. You half-expected him to start vibrating from sheer happiness.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, your hands gently cupping his face as your thumbs stroked his cheeks. “I missed you too,” you said softly, your eyes locked on his. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”

Your words, your voice, your touch, you, were completely undoing him. He’d never felt emotions this intense over something so seemingly simple. Yet here he was, melting under your hands like it was the first time anyone had ever touched him with care.

Without saying a word, he pulled you into another hug, tighter than before, like he was trying to make up for every second he spent missing you.

That only made you giggle again as you gently pulled him back just enough to see his face, only to tug him right in again, pressing your lips softly against his.

Were you actively trying to kill him?

Because it sure felt like it.

It was almost funny how he still went all weak in the knees from your kisses, even after being your boyfriend for a while now. He melted like butter in a hot pan, returning the kiss shyly, as if it were your first all over again. And God, he hoped he'd never get used to this, because nothing had ever felt better.

Yeah. There was no way he was going through that kind of separation again. Not if he could help it.

Once the kiss ended, he dropped his forehead to your shoulder with a soft sigh, his cheeks burning with warmth. “Next time, I’m going with you…”

↝ taglist: @nebularsung, @spacejip, @peterm4rker, @sinisxtea .