#and they like rethink each and every word. and they hesitate so much and then their response is so short Yes thats so good. thank u matthew

[mrsbarnesblog]

just us

masterlist

summary: a situation between pogues and kooks at the beach made Rafe rethink his priorities

word count: 1.8k.

warnings: season 4 spoilers, established relationship, mention of the dead turtle, that hoe Ruthie, protective Rafe

a/n: i'm obsessed with season 4, y'all. absolutely in love with everything that's going on and especially with Rafe being in a better place with a girl that he actually likes 🥹 this scene at the beach with turtles just made me sob, so I really need someone to drag that bitch by her hair. sorry not sorry.

Your heart was beating with adrenaline from the scene that just happened at the beach, with Topper’s girlfriend almost running over the pogues and being the usual insane bitch that she was. Rafe stood beside you, silent but shaking his buzzed head in disapproval.

Kie was standing on her knees on the sand, in shock, with juice still dripping down her face and hair. She brushed off the help of her friends, instead standing and picking something up from the ground, without hesitation, going towards the group of people around you. They seemed absolutely delighted by the whole situation, laughing, fist bumping each other, and making you want to punch every single one of them in the face. 

You didn’t even want to be here in the first place, not with a bunch of people with whom you shared mutual hatred towards each other. Rafe was your only connection with them, and it seemed like even for him it was a bit too much. A fun day at a beach with a little surfing competition, where even Topper and JJ seemed to have some fun together, took the wrong turn way too quickly.

“Look what you did! Is this okay?” Kie stopped in front of Ruthie, reaching out her hand to show something that you weren’t able to see, but by the look on her face it was obviously serious to her. “There was a turtle hatch, you idiots! You drove right over it!” Your stomach twisted at the realization, and you took a step closer to see it yourself. 

“Oh my God.” You whispered, catching a glimpse of a tiny dead turtle with a crushed shell laying in the palm of her hand. So little and harmless that the picture of it brought tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t look, baby.” Rafe’s deep voice mumbled near your ear, with a warm hand sprawled across your back to try to distract you, but you shook your head, unable to take your eyes off it. 

“All right, but it was only one.” Ruthie said with her usual attitude, nonchalantly pointing to the rest of the turtles that, luckily, were perfectly fine. Your mouth opened in disbelief, and you looked at Rafe to see him uncomfortably rubbing the back of his head. 

“I’m so sorry, Kie…” You whispered to her, stepping further away from the kooks, eyes drifting again to the dead animal in her hand. No matter how hard you tried to fit in with Rafe and his friends, you could never be one of them if it meant to be a bunch of pompous and cruel rich kids. You thought that, maybe it was time for you to finally admit that. 

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” She briefly looked at you, because despite not being friends, there never were any arguments between you and the rest of the pogues, always keeping cool and friendly with each other. “There’s something wrong with you, people.” Kiara looked back at the kooks with disgust written all over her face. 

“I’m leaving, Rafe.” Barely holding back your tears, you looked back at your boyfriend, before picking up your beach bag from the sand and turning around. “I’m sorry again for them, Kie.”

“No, wait, Y/N.” He pushed through the crowd, wide-eyed, quickly approaching you and grasping your wrist. “This is not—“

“I don’t want to be here. I didn’t sign up to hang out with your friends when I started dating you, okay?” You groaned in frustration, attempting to move, but Rafe stopped you. “I don’t even know why we’re here, why you are here, when you clearly don’t enjoy it anymore.” 

“Listen, this is not so easy, okay?” He rolled his eyes, but you knew it was not fully directed at you; Rafe was already struggling with trusting those around him, and the fact that you slowly but steadily made him reconsider his current surroundings did not help. 

“You are not like them, they are not your friends, don’t you understand it?” The pure desperation was speaking in you, searching for the answers in his eyes. You overheard some people laughing at you, as they were too confident that Rafe would never listen to someone like you, someone from the cut, not even realizing the war that was currently going on in his head. 

He was silent, thinking, making his already overwhelmed mind go hundred miles per hour to figure something out, because you were right. The more time had passed, the more the two of you were together, the less Rafe found himself enjoying the presence of his old friends, the less he wanted to do that childish bullshit. 

“This dumb fucking bitch almost ran over people and killed an innocent animal because her big ego got hurt, do you understand?! So I’m leaving. Alone or with you.” You almost whispered the last part to him, too scared that he'd not choose you. At the end of the day, you were a pogue, and no matter how much you tried, you would never be good enough for Rafe. 

“What did you just call me?” Ruthie arched a brow, now shooting daggers at you. 

“I called you a dumb fucking bitch, didn’t you hear me?” You spat, finally having a good enough reason to tell the truth right in her face. “Or are you too stupid to get that through your thick scull?” 

“That’s rich, coming for a pogue. It’s just a cycle of life. And if you, losers, are so offended by that, it’s not my problem.” 

“A cycle of life? Getting flattened by a truck is not a cycle of life.” Kiara pushed Ruthie with her hand, and it nearly turned into a fight, with JJ standing by his girlfriend's side. You turned away from them, too frustrated and drained to bother listening to the rest of the conversation, your gaze shifting to Rafe, who still held your hand.

“I want to leave. Stay here if you want to, I don’t care. I’m done with them, Rafe.” Your teary eyes met his blue ones, and he shook his head, pulling you closer with your forearms. The mere thought of you leaving him, angry and upset, triggered a whirlwind of panic within him.

“Hey, no, I’m not staying, okay?” Rafe's hands, now much gentler and delicate, touched your cheeks, wiping away a few tears that you could not keep back. Rafe had never been too comfortable with the display of emotions, and he was pretty sure that it was the first time he had actually seen you cry. And he knew how much you had always carried for animals, how you petted every stray cat or a dog on the street, and how you hated any form of violence against them. 

The pulsating and aching feeling in his chest at the sight of your tears made him want to drop everything, or rather, eliminate everyone who had upset you, and just hold you in his arms. 

“Aw, look at you.” You heard that annoying voice behind you back again, pulling you out of the bubble in which you fell, and turning around, you saw that Kie and JJ were no longer there. Your eyes instantly rolled back as Ruthie looked at you with her usual fake sympathy, crossing her arms over her chest. “Go back to your side of the island, you’re not one of us. Don’t even know why Rafe bothers to bring you here when you’re just another dirty toy to—“

Rafe left your side before she could finish her sentence, looming over her with the most furious expression you had ever seen on his face. Everyone and everything seemed to fall silent for a moment, and you held your breath, unsure what he would do. “Wanna say some bullshit about her? Try to do it right in my face and see what happens.”

“You’re not seriously protecting the pogue. She’s not on our side.” Her smile faded, her eyes now nervously looking between Rafe and Topper, who was standing behind her back. 

“C’mon, Rafe…” He started, but quickly shut his mouth as soon as Rafe turned his head towards him with a silent threat. You felt your heartbeat quickening as the atmosphere started to get even more intense. Everyone around you also started arguing and saying God knows what, but Rafe was awfully calm, and it frightened you even more. 

You moved closer to them as you made your way through the warm sand, until you were able to place a comforting hand on your boyfriend's back. He was so tense under your touch that it amazed you how the hell he was not shaking because of it. The only times you had ever seen him behaving that way was when people whispered something about his father behind his back.

“It’s okay, Ray.” You whispered, kissing his shoulder and sliding your hand down his back to take a hold of his bicep. 

“You’re lucky that I don’t hit women. But if I hear a single word about my girlfriend again, you will regret it, I promise you." Your stomach flattered from the way he protected you, from the way his friends opened their mouths in shock at his words. Even Topper and Kelce were too stunned to speak, sending each other weird glances. “Control, your crazy bitch, Top.” 

As if nothing had happened, Rafe stepped back, throwing a protective hand over your shoulders and guiding you away from the group. He was silent for a whole walk towards his truck, only stopping near the passenger door and turning you to face him. 

His worried blue eyes were almost shining under the bright and hot sun and you saw words forming in his head and sitting at the tip of his tongue. You waited another minute, while Rafe was focused on your necklace, thinking. His hands found a place on your waist, rubbing circles into your skin, until he finally took a deep breath and looked up. 

“You’re right.” He said simply. “I’m not this person anymore. That shit with racing with pogues was fun and all, but I didn’t like what happened today.” You half smiled, nodding and encouraging him to talk. “If—if I want to be like my dad, I need to have my priorities straight. No more of this bullshit, no more fake ass people, yeah? You’re the only one who's been here for me for a long fucking time. You’re the only one who I can trust, baby.”

His hand cupped your cheek, eyes focused solemnly on you, before he lowered himself closer to you to place a kiss on your lips. 

“This is the right decision. You’ve overgrown them, you’re a better man now. And i’ll be here for you whenever you need me, I promise. I guess it’s just us now." Your body sagged against his, too wrapped in the comfort of his presence to even care about anything else. Your lips brushed against his, making Rafe groan.

“Just us, baby.”

[hoffmansgirl]

match made in hell ━ father charlie mayhew ♰

❱ note: this is dirty and so long, i got so carried away...... might make a part two???

﹅ warnings: where do i start... nsfw content of course, blasphemy!!, unprotected piv sex, fingering, squirting, oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, finger sucking, choking, slapping, hair pulling, creampie, mirror sex, they are soulmates <3

♡ requests for nicholas/charlie are so open! you ask and i deliver :) let's keep on feeding our delusions lmao

to say that she was a saint would be a complete misunderstanding. she realised that the first time she met him. the priest, devilishly handsome priest, to be exact, was exactly like her. and she noticed it immediately.

she didn't exactly expect a priest to be this young and this handsome. but what really caught her eye, was the soulless look in his eyes. she didn't know why, but she felt an immediate connection with him, as she sat in the furthest corner of the church, yet he still noticed her. hiding in the shadows, she sat, long, black hair falling freely onto her neck and back, short dress that made him rethink the church's dress code. her eyes glimmering with curiosity, as she listened to his sermon, or at least pretended to. she wet her lips, tilting her head, her eyes wide and devilish.

and then she noticed: his eyes lit up with passion and pure interest as he held her stare throughout rest of the mass.

charlie tried to explain the feeling that bloomed in his chest, but he couldn't. he has never seen this girl before, her every move was hypnotising to him. the way she tilted her head in wonder, her lips pickering just slightly, as she studied his face as if she was admiring him... it made his heart beat faster, his palms becoming sweaty, mind going blank.

the mass ended soon after, and charlie sighed in relief as people began to leave the small church. he then walked around the altar, blowing out the candles, his mind still wandering around the brunette girl, when a soft, melodic voice behind his back caught him off guard.

"hello, um... i'm sorry, father... i'm y/n", she started, pretty much relaxed, keeping her eyes on her hands. her voice like a psalm to him, his heart beating loudly in his chest, as he stilled, waiting for the right moment to turn around.

"i'm charlie", he shouldn't have said that. he should've kept it professional, but as soon as he turned around and his black eyes met her green ones, he felt that electricity go through his veins again. they were alone now, everyone has left the church, the silence comfortable for both of them. y/n looked up at the much taller man, the dim candle lights made his face glow, and she thought he was absolutely mesmerising. his full lips curled into a small smirk, his eyes following her every move, and she couldn't help but smile too.

"i have never seen you before, y/n", he noticed carefully, leaning against the altar, the veins in his hands popping out, and her eyes wandered on them for a little too long. she crossed her arms on her chest, the cold air hitting her skin with a sudden force, and she shrugged.

"the truth is, father... i want to confess. kind of", she hesitated, the big cross behind charlie's head making her question everything. god doesn't judge us, she thought, convincing herself. "maybe we could talk somewhere more... private? if you're okay with it", she corrected herself quickly, though her confidence never faded, even for a second. the determination visible in her eyes, and charlie got lost in her for a second, his own eyes sparking with something very unfamiliar to him. that was both exciting and... thrilling.

"whatever you need, y/n", he said wholeheartedly, "do you want me to drive you home?" the words left his mouth before he could think about them, and she opened her mouth in shock. pink blush adoring her cheeks, her lashes fluttering, the tension in her lower stomach getting more intense by each passing second.

"yes, i would very much enjoy that".

about twenty minutes later charlie and y/n pulled up by the girl's house. a comfortable silence was followed by a quiet sigh falling out of y/n's mouth.

"thank you so much, father", she whispered, eyes on his side profile, and she couldn't help but notice the way his strong, defined jaw clenched at her words.

"call me charlie", he replied simply, hands on the steering wheel, as he kept his eyes on the driveway.

"okay, then..." y/n breathed out, playful smile on her lips. "thank you, charlie", she corrected herself, and pressed her back against the passenger door. the corner of his mouth twitched, and his head turned to look at her.

she looked like a goddess, charlie thought, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of her creamy thighs on full display. her short and tight dress has ridden up her thighs, her hair slightly messy, but still shiny and silky. her boobs tightly pressed together because of the arms resting comfortably on her chest. and her face looked angelic. charlie was mesmerised by her beauty, the urge to touch her now stronger than ever.

"i shall keep going", he cleared his throat, voice slightly shaky as he spoke.

"do you want to come in?", the words left her mouth before she had the time to think it through.

charlie tilted his head and looked at her with a devilish look in his dark eyes. she smiled softly, and shifted on her seat slightly, her predatory gaze focused on his serious face.

"of course", he replied simply and opened the door on his right, leaving the car quickly. she got up right after he did, and they walked together towards her apartment.

she unlocked the door to her apartment and welcomed him in with a quick smile.

"feel yourself at home", she said softly, leaning back against the wardrobe in the interior. she watched him take off his coat, his muscles tensing as he moved around. she bit her lip involuntarily, unholy images in her head.

charlie complimented y/n's apartment as they walked towards her room, a bottle of french wine in her hand.

she closed the door behind them, and she pointed towards a chair next to her bed. charlie sat down comfortably, leaning back, his legs spread wide as if he was inviting her to come between them.

"let me get changed real quick", she said, looking at herself in the mirror. the tight dress sitting perfectly on her figure, but she was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable in it. she took off her platform shoes and looked at charlie, who was already staring.

he smiled slightly and closed his eyes to give her the possibility to change comfortably. but she reacted quickly, heart beating loudly in her chest.

"don't cover your eyes, charlie", her voice barely a whisper, and if it wasn't for the quietness of her room, he wouldn't hear her. but he most definitely did. he gripped the edges of the chair tightly, and his eyes opened, so did his mouth, charlie's breathing uneven.

"i really shouldn't", he said after a second or two. his purity ring glistened in the dim lightning, and he reminded himself who he was.

he took the vows. he wasn't just a man; he was a priest, god's messenger, but the urge to look at her was too strong. she smiled kindly, as if she was doing something completely innocent, but he wasn't fooled. she was a devil, sent by god to test his loyality to him. yet, he couldn't bring himself to care. his cock grew stiff in his tight dress pants, longing to feel a touch of another human, any ounce of self control leaving his body.

y/n turned toward the mirror and put her hair over one of her shoulders. "i need some help", she smiled, referring to zipper of the dress. charlie nodded his head and got up quickly, his muscular body now behind her as he stared at her in the mirror.

charlie, very slowly, let his fingers run through her covered back, and she shivered, her eyes closing just for a moment before they opened in pure bliss.

he pulled the zipper of her dress quickly, the material falling into the floor with a soft sound. she stood there, right in front of him in just a black, lacy, slightly seen-through underwear. charlie's breath hitched, his gaze more intense, as he shamelessly looked at her exposed body.

she bit her lip, her eyes meeting his' in the mirror, as she took a step back, only to lean against his hard chest. her head tilted back, deep sigh escaping her parted lips.

"you and me..." she whispered, keeping eye contact with him, while leaning further into him, her lips dangerously close to his neck. "we are the same. i could feel it the moment i saw you. the darkness inside of you..." she stopped for a moment, only to turn around, now facing him. yn's hands run over his chest, his breath heavy against her hands. "is fascinating. you are fascinating. and you're a sinner, just like me".

charlie bit his lip and looked in the mirror again. long black hair falling on her back in cascades and her perfect ass exposed only for him to see. his hands slowly travelled from her spine towards her arched lower back, and then he cupped her ass. she sighed, her hot breath tickling the skin on his jaw. charlie couldn't look away from the way y/n's back arched into his touch, and her head fell onto his shoulder.

"just like you, huh?" charlie chuckled lowly, his raspy voice sent a wave of arousal straight to her core. "or maybe, you're just a greedy little slut, ready to open her legs for me whenever i please?"

his words were followed by a sharp smack of his hand on her ass cheek, as she hissed loudly, devilish grin spreading on his face slowly. she stood on her tiptoes, brushing her nose against his, charlie's eyes fixated on her lips, as he smacked her ass again. this time, she whimpered. her eyes closed, body leaning into his touch, and a single moan left charlie's mouth at the sound of her.

with his hands still on y/n'a ass, he lifted her up easily, the bulge in his pants getting in contact with the thin material of her panties. charlie pressed her against the wall, her hands on his shoulders, as she challenged him with her eyes, the fire in his dark irises making her melt into his touch.

he closed the distance between them, and their lips met for the first time, and she moaned at the taste of him. he didn't rush, instead, he took his time to explore her mouth with his tongue, a strangled groan leaving his throat at the contact.

"you can deny it all you want, father", y/n's said breathlessly, but he didn't let her finish. his mouth was on her again, this time more demanding, intense and passionate, as he devoured her, soft, lewd sounds leaving both of their mouths, his fingers pressing into her soft thighs with enough force to leave bruises. "but you know i'm right. you might be a priest, but you're a really sinful one", she finished, charlie's mouth trailing kisses down her neck. y/n's eyes closed, her head falling back against the wall behind her.

obscene sound left charlie's mouth, her skin soft, and he carried y/n to her bed. she gasped in surprise as her back hit her soft, satin sheets; charlie standing in the foot of the bed, his eyes hungrily taking in the view in front of him.

"you are not a sin to me", he voiced, and y/n held her breath. a sincere smile on her face, as she took in the view in front of her. charlie looked wrecked, his cheeks red, lips slightly swollen, hair messy, a little smile adoring his face just right.

regret washed over her chest just for a moment, god is always watching. but as soon as father charlie fell to his knees, his hands pulling her to the edge of the bed with a swift move, her mind went blank.

he spread her legs wide, fingers pressing into her plush thighs, and he moaned at the sight of her. she was leaning back on her forearms, hair messed up, lips parted as she breathed heavily, and she let her hand touch his cheek softly, until her thumb met his mouth. charlie parted his lips, his heart thudding in his chest, his tongue reaching out to lick her finger.

y/n sat on the bed, her boobs now right in front of his face, as she inserted the finger into his mouth. they moaned in unison, and charlie's eyes fluttered shut, mouth closing around her thumb, sucking, licking and lightly biting at it.

her body shook as she watched the obscene scene, wetness coating her panties as his fingers dig deeper into her thighs, and yet another moan left charlie's mouth.

when y/n's thumb slipped out of his mouth with a "pop", he opened his eyes. he looked up at her desperately, and she smiled, her hand now resting on the back of his head, as she tugged at his hair roughly. charlie's brows furrowed, whimper left his mouth, his throat now on full display for her hungry eyes.

he got up from his knees as she gestured him to do so, and she led him to lay down on her bed, mouth immediately finding his, the hunger getting unbearable. charlie bit her lower lip, pulling at it, drawing blood from the little cut of his sharp teeth.

he greedily lapped at the red substance, the metallic taste making him moan into her mouth, as his hips thrusted into the air with shameless desperation.

y/n's fingers found the buttons of his shirt, and she undid them with surprising precision, her mouth finding his hard chest as soon as he took the unwanted material from his body.

"you're such a slut", he groaned as she sucked at his nipple, a simple tug at her long hair making her moan shamelessly. he smiled devilishly at the feeling of her tongue swirling against the hard bud, and he tilted his head back, hair falling onto his sweaty face.

"givin' god a show, aren't you? what would he think if he saw you? so greedy to please your priest, 's embarrassing, really", he mumbled, putting her hair into a makeshift ponytail as her mouth got closer and closer to the bulge in his pants.

unable to take it no more, charlie flipped them over so that he was towering over her, his gold cross necklace hanging in front of her face. he tore the bra off her chest, his fingers immediately pulling at the soft skin of her boobs, fingers twisting at her nipples with newfound confidence and roughness. y/n whimpered his name softly, back arching into his chest, her lips already in search of his own.

charlie spread her legs open, fingers tugging at her panties, and she let him take them off her body. her cunt now exposed, his hungry eyes taking in the sight of her perfect body, and he cursed, mouth falling open at the sight of her wet pussy.

"you're so fucking disgusting", he exclaimed, rough hands travelling down her body, down her hips, thighs, and finally reaching the place where she needed him the most. "getting all wet for your priest. don't you feel ashamed?" he asked rhetorically, fingers brushing over her puffy folds, and she squealed as he toyed with her clit, pressing tight circles into it. y/n whined, her hands on his back, pressing into his wounds with enough force to draw blood. charlie hissed, and suddenly two of his his fingers slipped inside her clenching cunt.

"you're so tight", he almost whimpered, the clenching of her cunt on his fingers making it really hard for him to control the urge to straight up fuck her. "how am i supposed fit in here, hmm?"

he withdrew his fingers out of her pussy, only to force them in with an aggression that had y/n clenching even harder around him. charlie pressed his hot mouth against hers again, and she was unable to kiss him back, her mouth falling open, and charlie laughed, moving inside of her slowly.

"you won't ever be touched by another man again", he hissed with such venom that her eyes fell open, vision blurring from the feeling of slow thrusts of his fingers inside her wet pussy. "you", thrust. "are", thrust, "mine", thrust, and he moved at a rapid speed now, keeping eye contact with her, and she cried out, nodding her head mindlessly. "mine to worship. mine to cherish. mine to fuck", his thumb found her clit, and she was oh so close. she cried out, and he gave her a dirty, open mouthed smirk, his thrusts never slowing. charlie's head leaned down, and his lips found her perky nipple, closing around it, swirling his tongue swiftly, matching the pace of his fingers inside of her.

"oh my god, please", she let out, eyes finally flattering shut, back arching into his mouth, and he tutted, his mouth and fingers leaving her body altogether.

she cried out in protest, but before she could speak up, he tugged at her jaw and squeezed her cheeks, her lips pouting. "if you want to cum, you have to beg for it, like the desperate little slut you are" the vulgar words leaving his mouth making y/n nod her head desperately, the grasp on her jaw making it hard to move.

charlie smiled at the pathetic look in her eyes, and freed her face.

"i'm sorry, charlie. please, touch me again. i need you. i crave for you━ fuck, please", y/n begged, and he obeyed, cruel look in his eyes as his hand travelled down her heaving chest, down her stomach and finally reaching its destination.

charlie's fingers pushed into her tight cunt again, and she muttered a quiet "thank you", her hands finding his shoulders for balance, as his fingers disappeared into her over and over again, and she cried out, tears of pleasure coating her waterline.

"yeah, just like that, charlie, please", she welled, holding him close, the intense feeling in her lower stomach different from anything she's ever experienced, and her eyes fell open. "charlie..."

he pressed her body into his with a single tug at her hip, pressing open open mouthed kisses on her neck, tongue darting out to taste at her sweet skin, teeth biting at every ounce of her body he could reach.

"it's okay, pretty girl", he whispered, fingers pressing into her g point again and again, her tight cunt spasming in a way that had him throbbing in the tightness of his pants. "make a mess for me", that was the confirmation she needed, as she let go, transparent liquid gushing out of her cunt with every withdraw of his fingers. slowly wetting his hand, pants, the insides of her thighs and the velvet sheets under them.

she tried to get away from his tight grasp, but he held her down with his other hand, and his nose pressed into her hair, breathing her in slowly, whispering sweet nothings as she came down from her high.

she gasped in relief as his thick fingers left her pulsing walls, and he tapped them on y/n's lower lip.

"suck them clean for me", charlie cooed, and her mouth took him in gladly, swirling her tongue around his fingers, and then sucked them in until they hit the back of her throat.

"just like that, just like that" he groaned, fucking her mouth with his digits, and she gagged, her pussy starting to tingle yet again.

"i want to see you cumming on my cock", charlie exclaimed, struggling with the button of his pants, and y/n helped him, pushing them down along with his boxers.

her mouth fucking opened at the sight of his cock, the view so astonishingly beautiful and overwhelming, gasp leaving her parted lips, and he just laughed as if it was nothing.

y/n thought it was unreal, that he was unreal, his whole body belonging in a museum. before he had the time to react, she flipped them over and straddled his hips, fingers scratching at his chest.

"you are so fucking hot", y/n breathed out as she slowly rubbed her clit on his hard cock, and charlie's eyes rolled back, fingers digging into the reddened skin of her ass. "i can't control myself around you. you drive me fucking crazy, charlie", y/n almost cried out, the desperation in her voice driving charlie crazy. her moves slow and sensual, her moves snake-like, long nails digging into his skin.

"stop teasing me, y/n. come on, let's give god a show, shall we?", charlie's voice strangled as he chuckled lowly, and y/n smiled cruelly, her lips wandering around his neck, collarbones and chest, biting at his soft skin, moaning at the taste of his blood.

"what would god say if he saw you like this? giving into the temptation, betraying his trust and the church you work in, hmm?" she mumbled, teeth grazing over the gold cross sitting prettily on his chest, and charlie hissed, eyes meeting hers again, her movements on his cock getting harder and needier.

"you are the best thing that's happened to me, ever", charlie whispered wholeheartedly and reached for his cock, giving it a few pumps before sliding into y/n's tight cunt, moans filling the thick air around them as she clenched on his tip uncontrollably.

"you are so big, my god", a single tear ran down her cheek, charlie's thumb wiping it in an instant. "you wanted it, so fucking take it".

as the words left his mouth, he snapped his hips up and she fell forward, his whole length stretching her out like nothing she's ever experienced. he throbbed inside of her, and a satisfied moan left his mouth at the wetness and warmness of her insides.

y/n clinged to him, pressing her breasts tightly against his chest, fingers squeezing on his strong arms. the feeling of his body against her own made her lightheaded, and she whimpered into his neck.

"i'm never letting you go", he exclaimed, and her eyes found his as she began riding his cock slowly, the stretch deliciously painful. "you are mine. now and forever. fuck, ride me just like that" charlie breathed out, the rasp in his voice making her more desperate, as she took all of him inside over and over again, hands pressing into his chest, head lulling back.

the rhythm she set was driving charlie insane as she watched her with half lidded eyes, shameless moans leaving his mouth at the sight of her perky tits bouncing right on his face. he looked down at the place where they connected. the slow movements of her hips allowed him to see the wetness coating his dick as she slid down on him again, and she swore she could feel him in her throat from how big he was.

"you're my match made in hell", she moaned and pressed herself against him again, fingers tugging at his messy hair, nose pressing against his. in the moment the atmosphere changed, and his eyes softened just for a moment, smile adoring his face as he tugged at her long hair, and his hips rising up from the bed, meeting hers. he started thrusting into her, fast and hard, her ass snapping against his thighs again and again. charlie's hands gripped at her waist tightly as he lifted her up just barely, the slight change of angle allowing him to move at a rapid speed. y/n cried out, not having any control of her body as he manhandled her. desperately, she smashed her lips against his, charlie's tongue entering her mouth instantly, and he moaned at the taste of her, and he thrusted again, again and again.

"i want to cum with you, charlie", she whispered, tears coating her face, smudged makeup making her look even more beautiful for him, as he bottomed out fully.

she welled when her cock left her, and the next second she was on her knees, facing the mirror in an instant. her eyes widened at the sight of herself, completely ruined and fucked up just for him to see. then she looked at charlie, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, as he pumped his cock behind her, the veins on his arms showing. "god, help me. you are gonna be the death of me", he hissed, his thick cock throbbing in his tight grasp. y/n backed herself against him, signalling that she wanted, no, she needed more.

"please, no more teasing," she begged, reaching for his cock behind her, but charlie was quick to stop her, smacking her hand away, as he aligned himself against her used hole once again.

"look at me", he whispered into her ear as his girthy length pressed into her tightness again, and she did, her head lulling back against his shoulder. he slowly moved in and out, every thrust precise, his soulless eyes staring into hers in the mirror, the sight making her clench around him. "you're fucking ruined for me, my beautiful girl, makin' me feel so good", he cooed, one hand landing on her lower back, pushing her upper body down onto the bed, the arch he created letting him hit that spongy spot inside of her over and over again. y/n cried out, his movements still teasing and unbearably slow, and her hips trying to buck back into him. charlie groaned with disapproval, his hand yanking at her hair roughly, her ass pressing tightly against his lower stomach.

"stop. fucking. moving", he hissed, voice like venom, and she nodded her head furiously, "i'm sorry" leaving her mouth over and over again like a prayer. her hand reached back to tangle itself in his messy hair, and she looked up at him, his eyes half-closed as he kept thrusting into her, and he let go of her hair only to wrap his fingers around her neck, pressing onto her pulse tightly. y/n cried out, and charlie's other hand held her jaw open slightly.

"open your mouth for me, just like that", he praised, y/n mouth fell open at the command, tongue lolling out of her mouth without a thought. and when he spit into her mouth, keeping eye contact with her during the vulgar act, thrusting into her harder than ever, she swore she could see stars. y/n swallowed his spit quickly, shameless moan leaving her mouth at the feeling of warm liquid, and in that moment she felt so deeply connected with him, and her eyes softened, heart aching for him as she got closer and closer to her climax.

"charlie, i'm gonna cum", y/n's voice came out strangled, his hand on her neck making it hard for her to breathe. her hands tugging at his own in search of closeness, and he took her hands into his much bigger ones, a single thrust of his hips making her fall down onto the bed again. he held her hands down on her lower back, his throbbing cock ruining her insides, and she screamed, burying her head into the sheets, finally falling over the edge.

y/n clenched around him, making it hard for him to move, and charlie hissed, letting go of her hands as he thrusted into her slowly, fucking her through her orgasm. he held back a whine threatening to leave his throat, dick twitching in search of release as she came down from her own, crying into the sheets.

"you're doing so good for me, y/n. i'm gonna cum inside your pretty pussy, and you're gonna let me, yeah?" his chest pressed against hers, and she was unable to reply, overstimulated and spent, his cock kissing her g spot repeatedly. charlie grabbed her chin, pressing his lips against hers, slowly and passionately, as he gripped at her ass and moaned, balls pressing into her clit as he clinged to her, finally letting go.

charlie whimpered into y/n's mouth as he came, painting her inner walls white with his cum, marking her as his for life. his body shook slightly, and she whined softly, the feeling of his cock filling her up immaculate.

charlie broke the kiss, pressing his face into the back of her neck tightly, his cock never softening inside of her, even after the soul crashing orgasm he just experienced. she smiled, the moment so important to her, and she reached out to run her fingers through his wet hair, and she's never felt more safe in her life.

after a few seconds charlie got up, his whole body tense as his throbbing cock left her spent hole. she whined at the loss, and then turned around to face him, barely being able to move, face flushed and covered in tears.

even though she had no energy left inside of her, the sight of his pretty cock, standing tall and proud in the air, covered in both of their releases, woke up something inside of her.

"lay down for me", she whispered, fingers brushing against his cheek softly, and he nodded, his scarred back pressing against the sheets again.

"your cock 's so pretty", y/n wrapped her hand around him, eyes filled with adoration, and charlie's eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, his head falling back involuntarily.

"holy shit, baby", he whimpered and let his hands roam against her thighs as she kneeled beside him. "'s too much", he cried out, submitting to her completely, the pain from overstimulation adding to his pleasure.

y/n cooed, and she leaned down, kitten licking at his tip, moaning at the taste of his pearly cum. "god, you taste so fucking good. i need your cum down my throat", she exclaimed, taking his tip into her mouth, and his hips thrusted wildly. y/n gagged, her desperate moan vibrating against his shaft, and he held her hair in a tight grasp, groan leaving his throat.

"you're perfect, god. where have you been all my life? holy shit━ i need this so fucking bad", charlie mumbled nonsense as y/n took him into her mouth fully, throat contracting against him, and he had to bit at his lip to physically stop himself from crying out. y/n's soft hands caressed his hips, and she sucked and licked at his pink tip as if he was a lollipop, her eyes falling open just to focus on his pretty face.

"i'm coming. god, i'm coming, please" charlie whined, and she nodded, sucking at his leaking tip with desperation, his cock twitching weakly as he thrusted into her mouth. warm cum filled her mouth, and she kept on sucking him dry as he came down, his body shaking terribly, endless moans leaving his mouth.

softly pulling away from his now softening cock, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, swallowing all of his heavenly cum, her throat sore.

she let herself fall next to him on the bed, his hands pulling at her soft skin with a need of closeness. he wrapped a protective arm around her shaking body, her head resting against his chest comfortably.

"you know, i meant everything i said", she said after a few minutes, tracing circles on his broad chest, smile never leaving her face.

"i know, baby. i know" he cooed, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead as she melted into him. "i meant everything too. you are so precious to me, so special", he whispered softly, warmness spreading across his body as he thought about the things they could achieve together, how she could help him with what he was planning.

and he wondered if her soul was as wounded as his own. the sickness of his mind, was she really ready to accept him just as he was? she won't have no choice, he thought, because she will be mine forever. no matter what it takes.

[rmadridcore]

Through the Jazz

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Requested

Summary: A charming and mysterious encounter at a jazz club leaves Jude captivated by someone who doesn’t recognize him, sparking his excitement for what’s next.

Word Count: 3.3K

Author’s note: Thank you anon for this request, it was so fun writing it, hope you enjoy! 🤍🤍🤍

“God, this lighting makes me want to rethink every selfie I’ve ever posted,” your friend joked, leaning over the table to adjust her hair, her face glowing faintly under the warm red lights of the jazz club.

You chuckled, taking in the ambiance. The room felt like it belonged to another time — dim crimson lighting casting a sultry glow, the hum of a live jazz band serenading the crowd with soulful melodies, and the murmur of quiet conversations blending with the occasional clink of glasses. People swayed in their seats or danced with languid grace, lost in the music and each other.

This was your ideal night out, no thumping bass, no deafening music that made conversations impossible, no rowdy strangers trying too hard to impress. Just you, your girls, a round of delicious cocktails, and a playlist that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

Across the room, seated at a table with a few of his friends, Jude couldn’t take his eyes off you.

He’d come here seeking the same thing as you, a relaxed evening to unwind after a taxing week. This jazz club was one of his sanctuaries, a place where the world’s noise dimmed and the rhythm of the music matched the beat of his heart. Most nights, he came for the music, a drink or two, and easy conversations with his friends.

But tonight was different.

The moment he spotted you, every reason he’d had for coming here evaporated. The music became a soft blur in the background, the drink in his hand forgotten. His friends’ voices barely registered as his focus locked onto you.

You, on the other hand, remained blissfully unaware of the attention.

Jude wasn’t used to this. Normally, his natural charm and status worked without much effort. A glance, a few clever lines, and he could start a conversation with ease. But tonight, he found himself overthinking every move. Something about you demanded more than the usual routine — more finesse, more thought.

At first, he assumed you’d noticed him and were playing coy, but after a few more minutes of watching you sip your cocktail, laugh at your friend’s jokes, and sway your leg subtly to the music, it became clear. You hadn’t even seen him.

And Jude liked that.

“She hasn’t noticed you yet?” one of his friends teased, nudging him.

“No,” Jude muttered, his eyes still on you.

“Why don’t you just walk over there and buy her a drink? Easy.”

“I can’t just interrupt her,” he replied, leaning back in his chair. He sounded calm, but inside, his nerves were alive. “She’s with her friends, and I don’t want to come off as... I don’t know, pushy.”

“She’s not going to notice you if you just sit here.”

Jude knew that. But you seemed... different. Sophisticated. Like the kind of woman who’d appreciate something thoughtful and intentional. Charging over with a cheesy pickup line wasn’t going to cut it.

“It’s delicious, isn’t it?” your friend asked, gesturing toward your empty Espresso Martini glass.

“Mhm.” You nodded softly, savoring the lingering flavor of the cocktail. It was exactly what you needed tonight — smooth, rich, and just a little indulgent.

“I think I’m going to get another one,” you announced, already craving the next. With your friends’ glasses still mostly full, you decided to head to the bar alone. Sliding onto a stool, you ordered another Espresso Martini and rested your hands on the sleek wooden counter, taking a moment to soak in the cozy hum of the jazz club.

Across the room, Jude saw you stand. His heart gave a subtle leap as you made your way to the bar. His friends exchanged knowing glances, one of them nudging him with a grin. Without hesitation, Jude rose from his seat. This was his chance.

“Wish me luck,” Jude murmured, adjusting his sleeves as he crossed the room.

As you waited for the bartender to finish your drink, the faint, woody scent of cologne caught your attention, drawing you to the presence beside you. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed someone taking the stool next to yours. He didn’t face the bar; instead, he angled himself toward you.

“Is it just me, or do they really make you earn your drinks here?” His voice was warm, with a playful edge.

You turned toward him, your gaze meeting a boyish smile that was entirely too charming for its own good. He had an easy confidence about him, and you wondered, just for a moment, what his face looked like fully lit by that smile.

“That depends,” you replied, tilting your head slightly. “Did you charm your way up here, or are you next in line to complain?”

Jude chuckled, surprised by your quick wit. He’d been right, there was something different about you.

“Maybe a bit of both,” he said, his grin widening. “Figured I’d give it a shot. Worked better than waiting for someone to serve me.”

There it was — the full smile you’d been curious about. And it didn’t disappoint. His face lit up in a way that made you momentarily lose your train of thought.

“You’re bold,” you said as the bartender placed your drink in front of you. “What’s next? Going to critique my cocktail choice?”

Jude leaned slightly closer, inspecting your glass with exaggerated interest. “Let’s see… Espresso Martini?” He paused, feigning astonishment. “No way, I was about to order the same thing!”

The obvious lie made you laugh softly, raising an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“Okay, you caught me,” he admitted with a low chuckle. “But I’d say it’s a solid choice. Smooth, refined, just the right amount of kick. Kind of like you.”

You gave him a mockingly skeptical look but couldn’t hide the small smirk tugging at your lips.

“Are you always this focused when you’re people watching, or am I just lucky to be in your line of sight tonight?” he asked, his tone teasing but not overbearing.

“People watching? Bold of you to assume I even noticed you.” Your words were playful, but they were also true. You hadn’t noticed him until now, and that realization seemed to intrigue him even more.

“Well, I noticed you,” Jude countered smoothly. “So either you’re exceptionally good at hiding it, or I’ve just got really bad luck.”

“You’re too smooth for your own good,” you said, sipping your drink. “Do girls actually fall for this?”

He leaned in just a fraction closer, his grin never faltering. “You tell me — are you falling?”

“Hm, not yet,” you teased, holding his gaze. “But you’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”

“Not persistence, love,” he said, his voice dropping into a lower, silkier register. “Just good taste.”

You let out a soft laugh, swirling your drink absentmindedly. “Good taste, huh? Is that what brought you to a jazz club of all places?”

“Good music, good atmosphere,” he said, gesturing to the band. “And apparently, good company.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “Do you come here often, or is it just my lucky night?”

“That depends,” Jude replied, matching your playful tone. “Are you always this charming, or is it just the jazz talking?”

“Oh, I’m always like this,” you said with mock seriousness. “You’d better keep up.”

“Who said anything about keeping up?” His voice softened, his words carrying an unmistakable weight. “I’d much rather keep you close.”

His eyes never left yours as he spoke, the intensity behind them making your breath hitch slightly. The flirtation was steady but not overwhelming, his tone perfectly balanced between confident and inviting. There was no rush, no pretense — just an undeniable connection.

The bartender offered Jude a drink. He shook his head politely, refusing it.

“Are you not going to order that Espresso Martini, or was that just a throwaway line?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I’m actually not supposed to drink much in the middle of the season,” he admitted, leaning back slightly against the bar.

You tilted your head in confusion, your curiosity piqued. “What do you mean, middle of the season? Season of what?”

He hesitated for the briefest moment, realizing how casually he’d let that slip. “You know, because of my job.”

You blinked at him, nonchalantly taking another sip of your drink. “What do you do?”

The question was so casual, so devoid of the recognition he was used to, that it hit him like a curveball. For the first time in years, someone his age didn’t seem to know who he was. He swallowed his initial surprise and decided to lean into it, enjoying the novelty.

“I… well, nothing too exciting,” he said, scrambling for something to say. “I run. And stuff.”

You stared at him for a moment before letting out a laugh, the sound light and melodic. He’d been wondering what your laugh might sound like, and now that he’d heard it, it surpassed even his wildest expectations.

“Run and stuff?” you repeated, chuckling. “Is that an official job title?”

He smiled sheepishly, mentally kicking himself for the ridiculous answer, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep hearing you laugh. It was such a beautiful sound, and knowing he’d caused it made his chest swell a little.

Jude had never been the type to flaunt his status, but this was new. Girls usually knew exactly who he was and often used it as their icebreaker. He wasn’t used to this kind of blank slate, and honestly, he loved it. With you, there was no pretense, no assumptions, and no expectations. He couldn’t lean on being Jude Bellingham, the star of England and Real Madrid. He couldn’t impress you with his accolades or fame. Instead, he had to charm you the old fashioned way — with wit, humor, and his own personality. And he found it refreshing.

For once, he wasn’t a star athlete; he was just another guy in a bar.

As he glanced at you, a thought flickered across his mind, and he tilted his head slightly, studying you in silence for a moment.

“What’s the look for?” you asked, squinting at him with playful suspicion.

He grinned softly, his gaze never wavering. “Just wondering how someone like you ended up in a place like this.”

“Someone like me?” you repeated, your curiosity rising.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice calm and sincere. “Someone who could make the whole room disappear.”

The compliment landed like a quiet ripple, subtle but powerful. You felt your cheeks grow warm, flustered by the easy way he said it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You quickly brought your glass to your lips, hiding your reaction behind one of the final sips of your Martini.

“Alright,” you said with a smirk, setting your glass down. “That one was good. You get points for creativity.”

Jude’s grin widened as he caught the faint blush still lingering on your face. He could tell his words had affected you, and he loved that he was starting to crack through your calm exterior.

“Creativity?” he repeated with mock offense. “I was just being honest.”

You shook your head with a cheeky smile. “Honest or not, I’ll give you credit. But don’t let it go to your head.”

He laughed lightly, the sound warm and genuine. Complimenting you felt effortless to him. In fact, he could have gone on for hours, listing all the things he was already drawn to about you. But something told him to take his time. If tonight was any indication, there would be plenty of opportunities in the future.

“Does that mean I’ve earned a dance?” he asked, his tone cheeky yet hopeful, his grin widening as he met your eyes.

You tilted your head, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… how about I come back in two minutes, and I’ll let you know if you’ve earned it?” you replied, finishing your drink and setting the glass down.

“I’ll take that,” he said, leaning back slightly as you stood, grabbed your purse, and excused yourself to the bathroom for a quick touch up.

Once inside, you gave your reflection a final once-over, ensuring your hair and makeup were flawless. There was something about the way Jude looked at you that made you want to bring your A game.

Meanwhile, Jude let out a deep breath. He’d gotten the green light, but now the real challenge loomed: dancing. Dancing was not his forte, but he was willing to risk it. He glanced over at his friends, who were watching him with knowing smirks. Shaking his head with a soft laugh, he adjusted his shirt and waited. His nerves weren’t focused on you possibly rejecting him but on whether he’d embarrass himself by stepping on your toes.

When you returned, you moved to settle your bill, but the bartender stopped you with a polite smile. “It’s already been taken care of,” he said, gesturing subtly toward Jude.

You turned to him, a playful smirk on your lips as you approached. “So…” he began, his tone laced with anticipation.

“I think you’ve earned a dance,” you teased, pausing for dramatic effect. “But only if you promise not to step on my toes.”

Shit.

Jude let out a nervous laugh, pretty uncertain about the promise.

“Deal,” he said with a grin, holding out his hand.

As he led you to the dance floor, the soft notes of John Coltrane’s My One and Only Love filled the air, a perfect melody for a slow dance.

The space wasn’t crowded, leaving the two of you plenty of room to move freely. He placed his hands gently on your waist, and you looped your arms around his neck. As your eyes met his, he felt the world shrink to just the two of you. The soft glow in your eyes, the delicate flutter of your lashes — it was all so simple yet so captivating. His heart skipped a beat, and a strange realization struck him: he didn’t even know your name, but you already felt special.

You moved together with an ease that surprised both of you. The initial clumsiness he feared melted away as you found a rhythm, the music guiding your steps.

“You’re not bad at this,” you said, breaking the silence with a small, teasing smile.

He chuckled softly. “Not bad? Careful with the compliments, or I might start thinking you like me.”

You laughed, a sound that sent a pleasant warmth through him. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’re doing okay… for now.” Your head tilted slightly as you gave him a soft, playful look.

“Okay,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, his expression more serious yet still teasing. “This is the best I’ve gotten all night. I’ll take it.”

The proximity between you felt charged. His cologne, woody and fresh, was intoxicating, as was the quiet power of his presence. There was a depth to him you couldn’t quite put your finger on, but it intrigued you.

Jude found himself entirely lost in the moment. Being with you felt so different, so exceptional. You didn’t know who he was, and that was precisely what made this connection so meaningful. For once, he wasn’t Jude Bellingham the football star; he was just Jude — a guy trying to impress a beautiful stranger.

And it worked.

He could see it in the way you smiled at him, the way your body moved easily with his, the way you laughed at his jokes. You liked him for him, not for his fame or the life that came with it. It made him feel proud of himself — proud that he could charm you just by being genuine. As the song played on, he wished it would never end.

It did end, unfortunately to him, and as it did, neither of you moved at first, lingering in the intimate space you’d created on the dance floor. Jude wasn’t ready to let go, and for a moment, it seemed you weren’t either. But to his dismay, you were the one to step back first.

Your eyes flicked toward one of your girlfriends across the room, and with a subtle nod, you silently communicated your readiness to leave. She got the message, standing and making her way toward the exit with the others. You turned your attention back to Jude, your charming smile softening the blow of your departure.

“Well, mystery man, this was fun. Thanks for the drink and thanks for the dance,” you said gently.

“That’s it? You’re leaving?” Jude tried to mask the disappointment in his voice, but the slight edge in his tone betrayed him. He didn’t want the night to end — not yet, not like this.

You shrugged with a playful glint in your eye. “What can I say? I’m spontaneous like that.” And just like that, you turned and walked away, leaving him no chance to respond. As you joined your girlfriends at the door, you didn’t look back, disappearing into the night and leaving Jude standing on the dance floor, disappointed yet utterly captivated.

Jude was floored.

You were beautiful, witty, flirtatious, and effortlessly intriguing.

There was a magnetic pull about you, an undeniable charm that made him want to unravel all the mysteries you seemed to carry. Most of all, you made him feel like himself. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was just a guy — one who was utterly enthralled by someone who didn’t even know his name.

Usually, when Jude approached women, he was bold, direct, sometimes even audacious. But with you, it was different. He found himself holding back, wanting to show you his best side, wanting to prove he was a good guy while still keeping his natural charisma intact. You had him walking a fine line between flirtation and respect, and he loved every moment of it.

Returning to the table, Jude was greeted with knowing smirks and playful jabs from his friends.

“So, when’s the first date?” one of them teased, clearly sensing how smitten he was.

Jude froze. His stomach dropped. He didn’t have your number. He didn’t even know your name.

The realization hit him like a brick wall, and his stunned expression sent his friends into fits of laughter.

“Wait, you didn’t even get her name?!” one of them managed between chuckles.

Jude groaned, running a hand down his face. Usually, he’d fire back with a quick retort, but this time, his friends had a point. He had been completely out of his element, letting you walk away without so much as a way to find you again.

On the way home, Jude replayed the night in his head, trying to figure out how to fix his mistake. He refused to let this be the end. He’d start by asking around at the jazz club, see if any of the regulars knew you. If that didn’t work, he’d make it his weekly ritual to stop by in the hope that you’d show up again.

When he got home, still brooding over his missed opportunity, he tossed his keys on the counter and reached into his pocket for his phone. Instead, his fingers brushed against something unfamiliar.

Pulling it out, he found a folded napkin. His heart raced as he opened it, revealing a note written in elegant handwriting:

For the guy who runs for a living, call me if you need any cocktail recommendations.

Beneath it was your number, complete with a lipstick mark stamped beside it.

Jude couldn’t help the wide grin spreading across his face. His heart pounded as he bit his lip, a mix of relief and excitement flooding through him.

You’d left him with just enough to keep the connection alive — your charm lingering even in your absence.

Yup. He was definitely calling for some cocktail recommendations.

[tosomeonessomeone]

Intertwined.

words・3.2k /pairings・Bang Chan x reader / genres・fluff, humor, little angst/ warnings・ none

You’ve been working with Stray Kids for a long time as an artist and visual creator for the group, you and Bang Chan are really close due to being both 97’s liners.

The dance studio pulsated with tension as Chan grappled with intricate moves, each step echoing his mounting frustration. Minho's concerned gaze caught Chan's eye, "Hey, Chan, something's off. You seem distracted."

Chan let out a heavy sigh, "Yeah, it's been one of those days. Everything feels like it's falling apart."

As they retreated to the break area, the atmosphere grew more strained with the members bickering over trivial matters. Felix raised his voice, "Can we just focus, guys? This isn't helping anyone."

Chan, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on him, rubbed his temples. "I need a break," he muttered, escaping the heated exchange.

Silently, Chan sought refuge in your studio, a sanctuary amidst the chaos. As he entered, you looked up from your work, sensing the distress in his eyes. "Rough day?" you asked.

Chan slumped onto a chair, "You have no idea. Dance practice was a disaster, and the members are at each other's throats. I just needed some peace."

You nodded sympathetically, "Take your time. I'm here if you need to talk."

The frustration lingered as Chan paced around the studio. "This song is just not coming together! We're running out of time, and it's driving me crazy," he vented, frustration evident in every word.

Approaching cautiously, you offered, "Chan, take a deep breath. We'll figure it out, like we always do."

He shot you a sharp look, "It's not that simple! Do you even understand the pressure we're under?"

"I do, Chan. But snapping won't help. Let's talk it through," you urged, attempting to diffuse the tension.

He scoffed, "Talking won't magically make the song perfect! We need results, not empty words."

Remaining calm, you said, "I'm not trying to provide empty words. I'm here to support you, but yelling won't change anything."

Frustration boiling over, Chan exclaimed, "Support? I need more than support! I need solutions, and it feels like you're not getting it!"

Taking a deep breath, you carefully responded, "I'm on your side, Chan. We're a team, and we'll find a way together. But lashing out won't solve anything. Let's step back and rethink our approach."

He sighed, a mix of anger and exhaustion in his eyes, "I know, I just… I'm sorry. This is so much pressure, and I didn't mean to snap."

You nodded, "It's okay. We all have our moments. Let's take a break, clear our heads, and come back to it with a fresh perspective. We've got this, Chan."

As the tension gradually subsided, you both understood the challenges you faced but also the strength of your partnership to overcome them.

You extended your hand towards Chan, offering a silent gesture of reconciliation. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly lifted his hand to hold yours. The touch, though tentative, spoke volumes about the unspoken bond between you.

You guided him towards the couch, and as you both sat down, a heavy silence hung in the air. "Chan, I know it's tough," you began softly, "but we can navigate through this. We always do."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping, "I just get overwhelmed sometimes, you know? It feels like the weight of everything is on my shoulders."

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently, "You don't have to carry it all alone. We're a team, remember?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, "Yeah, a team. I forget that sometimes."

"It happens," you reassured, "but we're in this together." The room was filled with a comforting silence as you both absorbed the shared understanding.

Chan finally broke the quietude, "Thank you for being patient with me. I don't say it enough, but I appreciate you."

"I know," you replied with a soft smile, "and I appreciate you too, Chan. Let's tackle this challenge together, one step at a time."

As the weight of the argument lifted, you both leaned back on the couch, finding solace in the shared space. The connection between you spoke of a partnership resilient enough to weather storms, and the quiet moments that followed were a testament to the strength you found in each other.

Feeling the need for a break, you suggested, "How about we take the rest of the night off, Chan? We could use a breather."

He nodded in agreement, "Yeah, a break sounds good. My head's been spinning with the music."

You both settled on the couch, legs stretched out on a large puff in front of you. "What do you feel like eating?" you asked.

Chan thought for a moment, "Let's go with something comforting. How about ramen and dumplings?"

"Perfect choice," you grinned, reaching for your phone to place an order.

While waiting for the food, Chan scrolled through the movie options. "How about this one?" he suggested, showing you the screen.

You nodded in approval, "Sounds good to me. Anything to take our minds off things for a while."

As the food arrived, you both dug into the delicious spread of ramen and dumplings. The tension from earlier slowly dissipated, replaced by the warmth of shared comfort food. The movie played, casting a soft glow in the room.

Chan stole a glance at you, "Thanks for this. I needed a break more than I realized."

"You're welcome," you replied, "Sometimes stepping back is the best way to find a new perspective."

*your pov*

As the movie played on the screen, my thoughts swirled like a whirlwind. The atmosphere was relaxed, the air tinged with the comforting scent of the food we just enjoyed. Yet, there was a subtle undercurrent of unspoken emotions.

Feeling the weight of the day's events, I contemplated our journey together. Chan's dedication and passion were evident in every note he crafted, yet the toll of creative struggles was undeniable. The realization dawned that sometimes, in the silence between shared glances, words weren't necessary.

In a moment of unspoken connection, I decided to lean my head on Chan's shoulder. It was a subtle move, a gesture seeking solace and understanding. The soft fabric of his shirt provided a tangible reassurance, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond we shared.

As my head rested against him, I could almost feel the tension dissipate. The movie continued to play, but my attention was drawn to the rhythm of his heartbeat. There was an unexpected intimacy in this simple act, as if the proximity ignited a flutter within both of us.

I stole a glance at Chan, and our eyes met briefly. In that moment, it felt like our hearts were engaged in a silent conversation, exchanging sentiments that words struggled to convey. I sensed a subtle shift, a recognition of vulnerability and strength entwined.

For Chan, my head on his shoulder seemed to unleash a cascade of emotions. The rise and fall of his chest quickened, a heartbeat echoing the unspoken understanding that enveloped us. It was a moment frozen in time, where the complexities of the day faded into the background, leaving room for an uncharted connection that pulsed between us.

*Chan pov*

As her head gently found its place on my shoulder, a mix of emotions stirred within me. The weight of the day's frustrations lingered, but her silent gesture offered an unexpected balm. I could feel the subtle warmth radiating from her, a connection transcending words.

My mind raced, contemplating the intricacies of our partnership. Her support was unwavering, a pillar that held me steady amidst the creative storms. In that moment, as the soft fabric of my shirt cradled her head, I couldn't help but acknowledge the depth of our bond.

Her presence felt like a lifeline, a silent reassurance that we were navigating the challenges together. The movie played on, but my focus shifted to the rhythm of our shared heartbeat. The vulnerability of the day seemed to dissolve in the quiet intimacy of this simple act.

As I stole a glance at her, our eyes met briefly, and a surge of warmth pulsed through me. It wasn't just the weight of the day that quickened my heartbeat; it was the realization that our connection ran deeper than the melodies we created. It was a shared journey, marked by unspoken understanding.

Her head on my shoulder seemed to unlock a reservoir of emotions. The uncharted territory of vulnerability and strength interwoven echoed in the accelerated beats of my heart. In this unassuming moment, I found solace and a silent promise that, no matter the challenges, we faced them united, and that, perhaps, there was more to our connection than even I had realized.

*end of povs*

As the movie wove its story on the screen, a quiet tranquility settled between you. The weight of the day gave way to a shared moment of solace, and the air held a delicate sense of connection.

In a subtle shift, Chan's fingers brushed against yours, and without a word, he reached out to intertwine your hands together. It was a gesture both gentle and firm, a silent agreement that spoke volumes. The warmth of his touch sent a reassuring current through you, a reminder that, despite the challenges, you were navigating this journey hand in hand.

The intertwining of your fingers became a dance of unspoken understanding—a language that surpassed the need for words, a silent promise echoing the depth of your connection. In that shared grasp, the complexities of the day seemed to fade, leaving behind a sense of unity resonating between your intertwined hands.

As your fingers found their natural fit, you stole a glance at Chan. His expression mirrored a subtle mix of reassurance and vulnerability—a moment frozen in time, a bridge between the challenges you faced and the uncharted territories that lay ahead.

The movie continued to play, but the real narrative unfolded in the intertwining of your fingers—a quiet acknowledgment that, no matter the twists and turns, your hands would navigate the journey together.

As your intertwined fingers created a connection, a comfortable silence enveloped you. The movie played in the background, providing a soothing soundtrack to your unspoken conversation.

The soft glow of the studio lights created an intimate atmosphere as you gazed into Chan’s deep brown eyes, a gentle smile on your face. "You know, one of the things I love most is seeing you feel loved by your members. Despite the hardships, the way you guys support each other is truly heartwarming."

Chan's eyes reflected gratitude, "Yeah, they mean everything to me. Their support has been my anchor."

You nodded, "And now, it's made me realize something important."

Curiosity flickered in Chan's gaze, "What is it?"

"I want you to feel loved and cherished by me too," you confessed, "just like you do with your members. You deserve that, Chan, and I want to be the one to give it to you."

A warmth spread across Chan's face, a mix of surprise and appreciation. "You'd do that for me?"

"Absolutely," you assured, "you've shown me your vulnerabilities, and I want you to know that I'm here for you, just as you've been for your members. You deserve all the love and support, and I'm ready to be a part of that for you."

As the weight of your words settled in the air, Chan's expression shifted from surprise to a profound sense of gratitude. It was a moment of mutual understanding, a bridge between the support he received from his members and the love he was now willing to accept from you.

You couldn't help but glance at Chan, a soft smile playing on your lips. "You know," you began, "seeing you well, in your element, it just… makes my heart flutter."

He turned to you, a hint of surprise in his eyes, "Really? I thought I was a bit of a mess today."

You chuckled, "Everyone has those days. But the way you handle it, your dedication, it's inspiring. And being here for you, supporting you, it just feels right."

Chan's gaze held a warmth that mirrored your sentiments, "You have this way of making everything feel a bit lighter. I appreciate that more than you know."

You grinned, "Well, if you ever need someone to share the weight, I'm here. Always."

His expression softened, "That means a lot. It's reassuring to know you're by my side through all of this."

You nodded, "Absolutely. We're a team, right?"

He squeezed your hand gently, "Right. A team." The acknowledgment lingered in the air, and in that moment, the unspoken promise of always being there for each other became a quiet foundation beneath the surface of your connection.

As the movie's glow painted the room, Chan took a deep breath, his eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and determination. "I need to be honest with you," he began, his words measured yet sincere.

You turned your attention fully to him, a sense of curiosity and anticipation in the air. "What's on your mind, Chan?"

He ran his free hand through his hair, a subtle nervous gesture. "Over the past few months of working together, I've come to realize that just being part of a team with you might not be enough for me."

A quiet intensity settled between you, and you searched his eyes for understanding. "What do you mean?"

Chan met your gaze, "I've been feeling… more. More than just collaboration. It's like, every shared moment, every challenge we overcome, it's been building up. And I can't ignore it anymore."

Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of his words sank in. "Chan, what are you trying to say?"

He took a moment before confessing, "I think I've developed feelings for you, more than just professional admiration. I care about you deeply, and I can't help but imagine a future where it's not just about the music, but about us, together."

A blend of surprise and warmth enveloped you. "Chan, I never saw this coming."

He nodded, "I know it's unexpected, but I needed to be honest with you. I've been grappling with these feelings, and it felt like the right time to share them."

The room hung in a delicate silence, the weight of Chan's revelation echoing in the air. It was a turning point, an acknowledgment that the dynamics between you had shifted beyond the realm of collaboration, and the uncharted territory you now faced held the potential for something deeper.

Chan chuckled, breaking the emotional tension, "You know what made me realize it even more? It's those moments when you're just… you. Like when you decide it's a good idea to get me all dirty with paint, or when you declare a spa day because you can't deal with your artwork anymore."

You couldn't help but laugh at the memories. "Guilty as charged. I might be a bit unconventional with stress relief."

He grinned, "And that's what I love. Those silly moments, the laughter – it's when I feel closest to you. Like that time we had face masks and painted each other's nails."

You chuckled, "I didn't think you'd enjoy that."

Chan shrugged, "Honestly, it was one of the best days. It made me realize how much I appreciate not just the artist in you, but the person. The one who's not afraid to be a bit goofy, to let loose."

The sincerity in his voice melted away any lingering uncertainty. "Chan, I appreciate your honesty. These feelings, they're not one-sided," you admitted, "Those moments we share, they mean a lot to me too."

As the weight of his confession and your shared laughter lingered in the air, it became clear that your connection had transcended the professional realm. The acknowledgment of deeper feelings was met with a warmth that extended beyond the art studio, painting a canvas of possibilities for the journey ahead.

Chan's laughter filled the room, a contagious sound that lightened the atmosphere. "And you know what really got to me?" he continued, "When you started recreating all those memes from the group. Like that time you screamed 'Ice cream!' just like Minho."

You grinned, "Well, Minho's enthusiasm is contagious. I couldn't resist."

Chan chuckled, "You nailed it. I couldn't stop laughing. And then there was the moment you sang 'Listen to my heart beat' just like Chanbin. I think that's when I realized, I love seeing you be a part of our craziness."

You blushed, "I never expected my attempts at humor to have such an impact."

"It's not just the humor," Chan explained, "It's the fact that you're willing to dive into our world, to be a part of it. It's endearing, and I can't help but be drawn to it."

As your laughter echoed through the room, it became another layer of your connection—one that transcended the challenges of music and embraced the joyous, silly moments that brought you closer. The acknowledgment of these shared experiences added a touch of lightheartedness to the depth of emotions already present in the room.

As the glow of the TV casting a soft ambiance. Your eyes met Chan's gaze, there was an unspoken understanding, a connection that transcended words. A subtle shift occurred as your fingers brushed against each other's arms. The touch was gentle, tentative, yet filled with a mutual yearning for the uncharted.

Chan leaned in slowly, his eyes shifting from yours to your lips. The anticipation hung in the air, a sweet tension building. You found yourself doing the same, drawn to the magnetic pull of this unexplored territory.

In that moment of suspended time, your lips met in a sweet, lingering kiss. It was a delicate fusion of emotions—affection, longing, and the acknowledgment of something new and beautiful. Chan's hand cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing against it softly, deepening the connection between you.

The kiss unfolded in a slow dance, a merging of two souls discovering a shared melody. The studio, once filled with the echoes of music, now held the harmonious rhythm of your intertwined emotions.

Time seemed to melt away, forgotten in the tender exchange between you and Chan. The once-muted movie now a distant hum, overshadowed by the quiet symphony of shared emotions. As you shifted, Chan's hands found your hips beneath the oversized t-shirt, a subtle reassurance that echoed the newfound connection.

With a gentle motion, Chan helped you transition, and you found yourself straddling his lap. The warmth of his touch lingered through the fabric, creating a cocoon of intimacy. The shared gaze spoke volumes, revealing a depth of understanding that transcended spoken words.

Your arm circled around his neck, fingers gently tangling in his soft, curly hair. The texture was a testament to the authenticity of the moment, the tangible connection grounding you both in the reality of this shared space.

As your bodies intertwined, the studio became a canvas for a different kind of art—one painted with shared glances, lingering touches, and the quiet melody of your breaths. The oversized t-shirt draped loosely, a symbol of the vulnerability and ease that enveloped you.

Chan's hands on your hips and the soft strands of his hair entwined with your fingers created an unspoken language—a dance of intimacy that deepened with each passing moment. The movie, now a mere backdrop, faded into the periphery as your shared connection took center stage.

hey guys, this is my first time posting my writing here! hope you enjoy it.

[theaveragepsychoticbitch]

My bestfriend asked for t4t with bottom Gyomei. And I only live to please her.

AMAB!Reader x AFAB!Gyomei || NSFW || Frotting, awkward first times, kinda crackish lol, and blowjobs(receiving)

The man before you, despite being large as an ox, was as skittish as a rabbit at the moment.

This was by far the most holy foreplay you've ever done. Sitting on your knees, facing each other, with enough room for someone holy in the middle despite your nakedness.

You'd been trying to court this man for weeks, but now that you're here, you aren't quite sure where to take this. He was, in many ways, far different than anyone you've ever been with. He was unusually quiet, and his teary, sightless stare was starting to unnerve you. His hands remained clasped as though in prayer, which made you feel a bit awkward. And not to mention the fact he had several feet on you height wise.

Just as the silence started to make you rethink your decisions, he speaks up.

"I must confess something, [Name]."

You turn your head to meet his gaze, the sudden suspense making your heart rate spike.

"I am... conflicted. Without doubt, I desire you. I wish to bring you pleasure, tonight. But..."

But? You haven't known Gyomei long, but from what you've seen he isn't the type to hesitate long or often. You sit up a little straighter, almost leaning forward in anticipation as the silence drags out.

"...I am inexperienced, in the art of intimacy."

You blink, all your anxiety gone in a poof. All this build up to tell you he's a virgin?

"Oh. Is that all?" You cringe as you say it. That was a bit insensitive.

However, your easy acceptance seems to soothe him some. "Yes. I do hope that won't be a problem for you."

"Not at all. Would it help if I took the lead?"

His smile is warm and sweet, almost out of place for the situation. You can't help but mirror it as he says, "Yes."

He removes his beads from his hands, setting then gently to the side. His hands lie flat on his thighs, and you watch as he takes a deep breath in.... and slowly lets it out.

"I'm ready whenever you are, [Name]."

You huff amusedly at his wording. He said it as though you were about to spar, rather than fuck.

Your hands are small compared to every part of him. There's so much to see and feel, and as you slowly drag your hands up his thighs and across his torso, you try to both see and feel everything. He sucks in a breath when you brush his nipple. You note that, excited to come back to it later.

For now though, you roam. You can feel him relax as he gets used to your touch. You begin to add kisses into the mix– across his chest, his shoulders, up his neck. You anchor yourself to the back of his neck and sit in his lap, laying kiss after soft kiss upon his face.

He's blushing, bright enough that you can see it clearly even in the darkness. It's likely due to the borderline romantic kisses you were giving him. Or maybe he could feel your cock hardening against his stomach with every little content sigh you drew from him.

You can feel him shifting, and soon two large hands have captured your waist in a gentle hold. Theres a shyness to his touch, one you can feel melt slowly into confidence when you kiss his ears, biting the tip teasingly and licking the shell.

"[Name]..."

"Yes?" You're sucking hickies into his neck now. He twitches hard in what you figure is surprise after the first, then tilts his head to further expose his neck to you. "Will you kiss me on my lips?"

You smile into his skin. What a polite request.

"As much as you want me to." One hand slides down his chest and you struggle to not snicker; his heart is beating so fast you could probably hear it if you were quiet enough. What an unexpected cutie pie.

Gyomei's lips meet yours in the middle. They're big like the rest of him, and plush as pillows. They meld to yours perfectly, and are quick to part when you prod them with your tongue. Remnants of dinner can still be tasted on his tongue, along with something deeper, more unique to him. You can't quite describe what it's like, but it makes you feel like you could sit and kiss this man forever.

After not long enough has passed, you force yourself to come up for air. His grip on you tightens immediately and you feel yourself twitch, both of your stomachs now sticky with pre.

He tries to follow you as you pull back. His crying seems to have intensified, the tears now flowing steadily down his cheeks and dripping into your lap.

A crybaby... A man of his status, with his life experience, crying because you stopped kissing him... If he's this dramatic now, his cries later...

A shiver runs up your back at the thought.

"Lay down."

Quick to obey, too. Gods, his expression was so sweet, so open and ready for anything you say.

Laying like this, a sliver of starlight cast his face in a pale glow. The red of his cheeks, the wetness on his lips that were still slightly parted as he panted, even his tears, that now flowed in several directions down his face.

Now, you sit between his legs. They're monstrous, of course. Thick and muscled and sure to crush you if he's one to leg-lock, but you came into this willing to risk that. Before you, his cunt oozes arousal at a steady pace. His clit is visibly throbbing, protruding from beneath its hood almost eagerly.

You weren't by any means small, now. But you had to wonder if the size difference would affect your performance. Would you be able to fold him? Flipping was definitely out of the question. Hell, would you even be able to fuck him as deep as you promised all those days ago?

A change in the air makes you realize you'd been silent for a while now. Gyomei's moved to lean on his forearms, a questioning expression on his face.

"Is everything... to your liking?"

Shitttttt.

It hits you now that he's been blind since birth. He's never even seen himself, and is relying on your judgement. He's trusting you deeply right now, and you're fucking it up.

"Yes, of course, I was just thinking." Well, no shit Sherlock.

He's silent at that. How did you manage to make things worse? There's no salvaging this, you should just go home now-

"Will you describe it to me?"

And just like that, you're snatched from the pits of self pity and placed directly under the metaphorical light of what must be God.

His deep voice was barely a whisper, but his words reverberate across your skin, and echo in your soul. You can fix this. And it wouldn't even be hard, because Gyomei is-

"Beautiful."

Even his breathing quiets when you start to speak.

"Your skin is soft and tan, and your scars are like artwork on the perfect canvas." You lean over him, dragging your hands across his body, stopping only one to finally, blessedly, grope at his tit.

"Despite the hardships that gave you them, they're soft beneath my lips." You kiss him. And then you kiss his scars, every single one in sight.

"You're quite muscular, though I'm sure I don't have to tell you that." You chuckle, but his expression doesn't so much as falter. He's hooked on your every word.

You squeeze his pec, and he inhales sharply. You pinch his nipple, and it knocks all the air from his chest.

"Your chest is soft, almost like a woman's. Your nipples are pink and round, and even long before this, I was enticed by them." Now, you use both hands on him. You twirl his peaks in little circles almost absentmindedly. You pinch one, testing the waters, and are met with his first true moan of the night.

His body jerks a little bit at the pleasure. His head is thrown back, and he sinks till he's fully back on the futon. For a fleeting moment, you're squeezed tight between his thighs, but you wouldn't want to leave if you could. You're rougher with him from then on, and for a while, you just enjoy the pretty sounds he makes as you abuse his chest.

"Does that feel good, Gyomei?" You almost don't recognize your own voice. It's low and sultry, your tone so obviously knowing it'd be offensive in any other situation.

"Yes." His words are accompanied by a whimper as you lick his nipple, applying only teasing amounts of pressure.

"How good does it feel, baby?"

You take it fully into your mouth this time, sucking and biting and making him cry.

You didn't even realize you'd begun to grind against him. He'd pulled his legs back of his own accord, and now his fat pussy lips hugged your cock perfectly, soaking you so thoroughly in his arousal you slid easily against him.

You knew for sure you'd bumped his clit when he yelped, back arching as one hand left his leg to tear at the covers.

You need to tell him. Tell him how sexy he looks like this. How slotting against him was numbing your brain, how the only thing you could hear were his melodic moans. Could he feel your cock twitch when he arched into you just now? What about how hard you were staring at him, at all of him? From the enchanting way pleasure painted itself across his features to the way his hole clenched and leaked everytime you called him beautiful.

You did tell him, all of this and more. Whispered directly into his ear between feverish kisses, not stopping even when they became to much for him to bare all at once. He feels so good in your hands. You tell him that, too.

It ends up being too much for him. He trembles, mouth open wide in a silent scream as he cums on your cock, wetting you, himself, and the sheets. A few minutes pass, and he collapses in your arms.

Loud, heavy breathing is all you hear from him as you caress his skin. You're gentle on the sensitive areas for now. But you can't deny the mischievous joy you get from watching such a stoic man whine every time you flick his clit.

"You looked beautiful just now too." You smirk, laying your head on his chest.

"Please..." He sounds like he meant to come off as exasperated, but was too far gone to do so.

"I can let up on the poetry, but only if you stop looking like it." You wink, and you're pretty sure that if he was anyone else, you would've gotten kicked out.

He sighs instead, and you laugh. Then, his hand clasps your face as though you were someone dear, and you're pulled upwards into a kiss.

Then he flips you, to your surprise. Ever the gentle giant, the seconds you're in the air feel like floating, and you couldn't have landed softer if you'd been in control yourself.

He slides down your body, mimicking you as he drags his own hands down it much the way you did him.

However, he keeps going down, and as you catch the increasingly determined look on his face you realize what he plans to do.

"All my knowledge of this act comes from Tengen and his overly explicit stories... But I wish to please you in turn. I ask you guide me in this too."

You nod, too shocked to speak, then come to your senses and sputter out an "of course!"

You can feel your heart thundering in your chest as his lips press against the underside of your tip. He's got one hand on your thigh, and one on your waist. Thick fingers massage your skin as he kisses down your length, and you don't hesitate to moan loud in encouragement. It feels good, and when his tongue reaches your balls and licks a stripe all the way back up, you make a mental note to kiss Tengen on the lips when you see him. Him and his wives.

His tongue is large and it engulfs your cock like nothing. But he's surprisingly skillful at using it, applying pressure in spots that make your legs jerk and licking ever so lightly in places that have you seeing white.

This, combined with the frotting from earlier, you soon find yourself struggling to not fuck up and into his mouth. He can feel your hips, though. The battle to control yourself is waged right under his fingers, and he's nothing if not a peacekeeper.

His lips leave you with a pop! and you've never been so upset at gaining the ability to breath back.

"You can move, if you'd like. I can take it." He takes your hands in his, moving them to his hair. "I hear that it's enjoyable like this. Please, use me as you desire most."

The last sentence is spoken over your cock like a blessing. You think you're going to marry this man. You might have to, after hearing that.

You lace both hands through his short hair, giving an experimental tug and loving the grunt it pulls from him. You drop one hand to your cock, holding it steady as you slide smoothly past his lips. Once positioned, you plant one foot firm on the ground, lifting your hips slowly at first, and dropping them just as slow.

You set a pace, savoring the sounds his mouth makes as you fuck it, too far gone to be embarrassed by the ones you make. He's taking you so well that you can't help yourself anymore; you thrust deeper. And deeper, and deeper, faster and faster until you're fucking his throat in true. You can feel the muscles of his throat spasming around your cock, gripping you as though trying to keep you there. His tongue was at work too. He struggled to keep up, but his attempts to keep it pressed flat to the underside of your dick had your head spinning.

"Gyomei, hell, in-" You gasp as he groans, the vibrations testing your limits,"-or out? Quickly!"

He makes his decision by opening his mouth impossibly wider and taking you to the base. Lodged deep in his throat, you've no choice but to cum in it, and bless if it wasn't the most mind blowing orgasm you've had in years.

You see white, the world fading to nothing around you as you tremble, his hold the only thing keeping your hips in the air.

Now, it's your turn to suffer as he slowly pulls off of you. Maybe teasing him after wasn't the best thing to teach him on the first day. If you knew you'd be left like this earlier, you would have tread far more carefully.

You can barely find the strength to move, but you've got to see this. It takes all your effort, but it's worth it to watch as he thumbs away a portion of the saliva and precum that dripped down his chin. Despite his sightlessness, he stares at his now sticky thumb with what was no doubt surprise at his own actions.

He soon rises so that his head is under your chin, but you pull him in for a quick kiss, reminiscent of the one he gave you earlier.

When you pull away, more breathless than before, his blush is that of roses at the peak of spring.

"I can go longer, if you wish."

Yeah, you knew he could. You also knew you couldn't. You're half convinced he took your dick with him, and not even seeing it in its rightful place will fully convince you otherwise.

"I think... we'll continue this session...another night."

He smiles, then somehow manages to find another way to shock you tonight.

"It felt amazing.... your mouth on my chest, and everything after."

You blink. There's no way he's answering your love-drunk question from earlier, right?

But he is, and he's dead serious about it too. Beautiful, funny... marriage material if you've ever seen it.

"I'm glad. You did amazing too, Gyomei." He seems a bit lost for words at first, but a small smile graces his lips. You kiss him, taking away the need for anymore talking.

"Do you truly mean it? That you wish to do this again?"

You might die if he gets anymore adorable. But you're quick to respond, because you weren't blessed with hashira stamina, and sleep has been calling your name rather insistently for a minute now.

"Of course. As long as you wish to as well."

You're gone long before he gets the chance to speak back. And when you wake up, he's fast asleep too, still sticky, still naked, and still smiling.

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A/N: if this is ooc no it's not I'm literally Koyoharu Gotouge. Now enjoy. And everybody say thanks to bestie for finally getting me to post!!!

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Hi! I saw you wanted some JonDami idea sooo:

• First time they hold hands

• First time Damian felt safe enough to fall asleep on Jon

• Discussing baby name when still in high school (which I did lmao)

• Seeking help from their siblings on how to ask the other in a date

• Eloping right out of high school to get married because they're idiots in love

• First kiss!! How did I forget that!!

• During patrol while high on adrenaline or maybe they were at the farm relaxing under the sunset or after playing video games and laughing with each other!

• One of my soft favourite to picture: leaning on each other, forehead against forehead or cheek against cheek, just existing and feeling the other's warmth

I have ton of other ideas and some hc but I think it's enough rn lol

Thx u byye!!

LET'S DO IT. (assume all ages are 16+ I guess, idk does it matter?)

First time they hold hands: pre-romance. Jon's powers shorted out and he fell outta the sky. Damian caught him by his hand just in time, and when he pulled him to safety he just...didn't let go. Jon noticed but didn't say a WORD.

First Time Damian fell asleep on him: Probably right after the relationship started/became official. They'd both had a rough hero week and Damian had been on edge just, forever. So they sit against a wall in the cave and one second they're sitting there in silence and the next, Damian's dropping against his shoulder already konked out. Jon panics for half a second but then Dick sees them and says 'He only sleeps when he feels safe.' and those words shake Jon to his core.

Baby names: This is all Jon. Jon just starts rambling about it one day. "How would we honor both our cultures? Or do we at all? Do we go with an -El name, or a name from your mom's side or just call him Bob?" Damian is endeared for a while but quickly gets so fucking annoyed because every name is more ridiculous than the last.

Siblings help: Jon obviously asks Kon and Kon is SO. JACKED. TO. HELP. He hesitates a little when he finds out it's Damian but, honestly, the kid is at least alright. Damian, much to the Kents surprise, does NOT ask Dick or even Tim. He consults Cass first, who asks Steph to standby as she gives her advice, and Jason, for reasons mentioned in previous asks in that he's a sucker for a classic romance novel so, clearly, he is An Expert.

Eloping: Honestly? Yes. And it happens at the same time one of them (I'm thinking Jon) says I love you for the first time. The other reciprocates (Damian) and one of them (Jon) sarcastically says 'really? well damn let's just go get married right now.' and Damian just goes. "Okay." and.......................they do. Maya officiates, Kathy is the witness, and the only family in attendance is the pets. (Goliath is flower girl)

First kiss: First kiss is at a Wayne Holiday gala/Justice League xmas party not long after they started dating and the end up under mistletoe. They do the hesitant peck thing first but then oh boy they like it and mmmmmm Clark and Bruce might have to rethink allowing sleepovers anymore.

Chillin': Jon gets so entranced when Damian laughs he literally just stops functioning. He will stop and stare and was even caught drooling a little bit once. (by Jason, no less.) If he's with Damian/it's just them, if Damian's laughing, he'll start laughing and just pull Damian as close as he can and they just keep laughing together.

SOFT FOREHEADS: There's some world-ending situation and they've been separated for most, if not all, of it. The day is saved and they're finally reunited on a rooftop somewhere. And they run desperately at each other but when they reach, they know the whole League is watching them and Damian's not big on PDA (and tbh neither is Jon, if only for protective reasons) so they just grab each other's hands and stare deep into each other's eyes until one of them well up with tears and closes his eyes and they just ~gentle forehead touch~

[the-treviathan]

Mike runs his fingers along the red and tender flesh of his lips in that soft and gentle way that is so characteristic of Will. It’s almost as though it’s Will himself brushing along his lower lip in the dim light. Mike hasn’t ever actually felt Will’s lips on his own, but Mike knows his best friend very well—better than anyone else, even after months apart. No amount of distance could erase decades of stolen moments.

Every time Mike has taken Will’s hand, he’s felt the intentional, graceful way his fingers clasp around his own. Not too tight, though, as if he’s scared that Mike might pull away. As if he’s scared that Mike doesn’t need him as much. As if Mike doesn’t stay up rethinking each word he says to Will, mulling over what he could have done to keep Will by his side for longer.

He didn’t need for Will to kiss him to know what the sensation would be like. His lips would be chapped and uneven and bumpy. He has a nervous habit of chewing his lip and picking at the dead skin. He has since he was nine, and Mike often grabbed both of Will’s hands to keep him from peeling it off. He’s thought about it so many times, in so many different scenarios, because it’s Will.

Mike has lied in his bed far past midnight, eyes staring at a portrait Will drew of him, remembering the way he looked up from his drawing as though Mike wouldn’t like it. He remembers seeing the hesitance in Will’s eyes as they darted every which way before landing back on Mike’s, and again repeating his nervous habit. Mike imagined running his thumb along Will’s cheek right above his jawbone as his fingers threaded through the slight curl of hair on the nape of his neck. Joyce would want to cut his hair soon. Mike imagined the way Will’s eyebrows furrowed and he turned his head to the side ever so slightly, not tilting it for a kiss, but as if there were someone over Mike’s shoulder. Mike imagined looking down at Will’s worry-worn lips, chewed down raw from concentration on the drawing. Mike imagined shortening the distance between their faces, Will’s eyes blown wide as Mike’s own fluttered closed just before their lips met.

It hardly felt like imagining anymore, it was so real. Will gasped at the contact, lips chapped and scratchy. Mike’s hand found its place on Will’s shoulder while Will’s cupped Mike’s cheeks. One of his hands, though, would leave just as quickly as it had settled on Mike’s cheek to rest atop Mike’s hand.

So, Mike sat there with his fingers grazing his own lips, right along the tip of his index and middle, right where Will’s hand had hesitantly rested for the first time in what felt like forever. Imagining.

[utanoprincesamascenarios]

QN and Starish hcs of teaching their s/o to play their instrument???? (Ily ur acc btw ♡)

Otoya 

Otoya would be thrilled when you ask him to teach you! He loves sharing his hobbies with you, and this way he gets to combine two of his favorite things. 

He’s a fan of hands-on teaching, so expect him to reach over a lot and adjust your fingers to the proper positions on the frets. He’ll cover your hands with his own, and sometimes he’ll even tell you to put your hands on his so you can get used to the feel of each chord. 

Otoya asks you some of your favorite songs and teaches you the chords. He’ll always demonstrate how it should sound first and then give you a turn. He’s great at demonstrating tricky chord progressions, and he’ll slow things down as much as you need while you work them out. 

He’s a great teacher and you never feel self-conscious or embarrassed playing in front of him. Expect to hear lots of encouragement and kind words each time you practice. 

Masato 

At first he’s surprised when you ask him for piano lessons, but as soon as you both have a free moment, he gets started teaching you right away. 

He’s also a little stiff at first, and most of the time he’s just telling you what to do and forgets to explain what some of the dynamics mean. You’re not used to seeing musical notation like he is. Masato will suggest that you learn a mnemonic to help you learn the notes in each clef. 

After a while, though, he eases up and gets more comfortable with his teacher role. He takes the time to teach you the difference between piano and pianissimo and explains what exactly a damper pedal does. 

In fact, he gets so comfortable that he’ll sit on the piano bench right next to you, leaving almost no room in between. You don’t point it out at first, because you’re sure he’d get flustered when he realizes how close you are. 

Natsuki 

When you first ask Natsuki to teach you how to play the viola, he reacts much differently than you expected. You thought he’d go on about how cute it would be to play a duet together, but he ended up taking it very seriously! 

He’s as good of a teacher as he is a player. He’s the sentimental type, so he’s held on to his old lesson books and he’s more than happy to dig them out for you. He even makes up lyrics to go along with the exercises so he can sing with you while you practice. 

Natsuki gives you excellent feedback, and even when he gives you a critique it never sounds harsh. He encourages you to find sheet music of songs that you like, and he’ll help you dumb them down to your current skill level. 

Once you’ve been practicing for a while, Natsuki surprises you by taking you to a shop where he’ll buy you a viola of your very own. He’s seen how hard you’ve worked, and he wanted to do something extra special to reward you. 

Tokiya 

Tokiya is extremely clinical at first. It’s nerve-wracking to ask him, but he clears out a spot in his schedule to make sure that he has time to be there for you. 

He spends a lot of time helping you figure out what your ideal range is, and he’ll write up some vocal exercises for you to practice. And he makes sure that you practice every. Single. Day. You do hear a bit of praise from him every now and again, and it’s kind of cute how sincere he can be with his compliments. But more often than not he’ll explain what you need to improve. 

He’ll have a change of heart about the whole thing eventually. When you’re not really excelling like he expects, he remembers his own struggles and what he needed to do in order to get better. Being perfect isn’t what singing is all about. So he’ll apologize for pushing you a little too hard, and he’ll rethink his entire teaching strategy. 

He knows your favorite artists and bands, so he’ll suggest you practice singing some of your favorite songs. Tokiya loves musicals too, and he’ll sing any part to any song that you want to work on. That’s a pretty fun way to practice! But in true Tokiya fashion, he won’t hesitate to stop and point out if you’re doing something particularly wrong. 

Ren 

He’ll probably ask where your sudden interest in the saxophone comes from, but regardless of your answer he’ll be happy to show you the ropes. 

Ren’s not a teacher in the traditional sense. He makes sure you know the proper fingerings for each note (and gets a little handsy in the process), but after that you hit the ground running pretty quick. 

Instead of practicing scales out of lesson books, Ren encourages you to just play what feels right and figures things out from there. Sure, you could waste time practicing the fundamentals, but true music is a feeling from within. That’s what he tells you, anyway. 

You’ll end up listening to a lot of jazz legends to practice as well. Your improv leaves a lot to be desired in the beginning, but Ren is the kind of teacher who has a lot of praise to give, even if it’s not always about the music itself. Over time, you’ll develop a style of your own. You do have to pester him a bit to teach you how to properly read sheet music eventually. 

Syo 

Syo always gets a little flustered when you express interest in his hobbies. Asking him for help while you learn the violin is no exception. He tries to play it cool, but when you tell him that you want to learn from the best, he gets flustered all over again. 

Syo’s not exactly the best teacher, but he tries his best. He trips over his words a bit, especially when he starts rattling off terms that you’ve never heard of before. It’s easy to forget that you haven’t been studying music nearly as long as he has. 

He has the habit of stopping you when you mess up and grabbing the bow from your hands. He likes to show you what to do rather than explaining. 

He’s your biggest hype man too! Every time you master a particularly hard part of a song, he’ll cheer you on and let you know how proud he is. Even when you’re struggling, he’s right there to assure you that you’ll get it right next time. 

Cecil 

Cecil is willing to teach you, but he warns you in advance that learning how to play the flute can be more difficult than some other instruments. 

That doesn’t deter you though. Before you even touch a flute, Cecil has you practicing how to move your lips in front of a mirror. It’s a lot trickier than you anticipated, but you’re not one to give up easily. He tries to be serious most of the time, but he’ll tease you when you make a particularly cute expression. 

Once he’s sure you’re ready, Cecil lets you borrow his own flute. He’s able to be normal about it, but you can’t help but realize it’s like an indirect kiss each time you pass the instrument back and forth. He does notice that your face is a little pinker than usual, though. 

Cecil is enamored by your playing right off the bat. Even if you don’t think it’s great, he’s quick to dismiss that kind of talk and praises you each chance he can. He’ll tell you that you’re a natural, and even though your playing is beautiful now, it’ll only get better from now on. 

Quartet Night is here!

[veethefreeelf]

I just read your jeonghan FWB part 1. It was so good. Thank you so much. Literally I can feel my eyes a bit wet. You have written so well. I also lost my childhood best friend for the same reason. One night we both were drunk and wasted, and we got intimated. Then our FWB relationship started with the same cliche condition "no feelings." Later he left the city due to his job, but we kept continuing the FWB thing whenever we met. And suddenly I realised that he started to care for me too much over every little thing. Even he started to be very intimated during sex, it almost felt like he was loving me. So, gradually I fell for him, and I tried to hide it. But one day he texted me he started to like a girl and they both were thinking to date seriously. I couldn't hide my feelings anymore. I instantly called him and told him everything. But without any hesitation, he replied he just cared for me due to our childhood friendship. And that was the last conversation. Even he cancelled his next week's flight which he booked to meet me. And, many year later, now he's a married guy with his another childhood friend. Time has healed me. I realised we were never made for each other, and I deserve someone better who understands me. But your story made me rethink about him again.

Thank you so much for sharing this with me 💗

My eyes got wet reading your story. I’m so happy you enjoyed my writing and my story but I’m also sad it made you relive some not so happy memories with your friend

You deserve someone that will know your worth and will want to show you off to the world. No one should be hidden and kept a secret or be someone’s second choice or only good enough to sleep with

I’m so sorry you had to go through that but I’m so happy time has helped you see that you two did not belong together and that you deserve SO MUCH MORE

I know one day you’ll look back at those memories with that friend and laugh because you will have the right person by your side and the past won’t come knocking anymore

Thank you for your kind words about my writing. I hope you enjoy part 2 when it comes out and thank you thank you thank you for sharing 💗💗💗💗💗

[theladyofdeath]

The Holiday {3}

Ships: Nesta x Cassian / Aelin x Rowan

Written alongside @snelbz

Trope(s): Christmas, fluff, love at first sight, enemies to lovers

Summary: Nesta has just been dumped. Aelin hates her job. Both women need an escape from reality and with Christmas quickly approaching, it's the perfect time for a getaway. After discovering a trend where people can swap houses for a non-traditional vacation experience, these two women decide to spend the holidays in each other's homes. With their houses comes a series of unique experiences and a couple of handsome suitors. It's time to see just how much a change of scenery and two weeks of Christmas solitude and romance can change a person.

A/N: I hope you're all enjoying the fluff! x

Rating: M for mature - language, smut, substance use, etc. 18+.

Inspired by The Holiday (2006).

It had been a long time, possibly even years, since Nesta had gotten such a good night’s sleep. Although Aelin’s townhouse lacked a certain…warmth, her bed was the most comfortable thing she had ever laid on. It felt like a pile of feathers sitting on top of a cloud and it made Nesta rethink every financial decision she had ever made. She could have spent years saving up for such a relaxing masterpiece, but no…she had bought necessities instead. What a waste.

It was almost ten by the time she woke up but she stayed in bed until eleven, until she grew so hungry that it was nearly unbearable.

With her stomach growling, she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and walked downstairs to the kitchen. She quickly found some fresh, cut up fruit and a carton of eggs that she set out on the counter. She’d just located a frying pan when the front door of the townhouse opened.

That frying pan quickly became a weapon. She heard the front door close then heavy footsteps in the entryway. Nesta raised the frying pan in her hand high as she neared the corner and peeked around, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. 

The intruder was massive. His back was to her as he fished for something in his pocket. She couldn’t get a good look at him, couldn’t see anything under his black hoodie. Nesta felt like she was going to puke, her fear turning into nausea, as she took a few wobbly steps into the foyer and screamed.

The man spun around, screaming profanity as he jumped and threw his hands in the air in surrender. 

Nesta’s scream died in her throat at the man now facing her. He yanked down his hood, chest heaving, and asked, “What the fuck?” The fear in his eyes was real. He wasn’t expecting Nesta to be there. With a hand clutched to his chest, he eyed the frying pan that Nesta still had lifted in the air, ready to attack. “You gonna use that on me?”

“If I have to,” she snapped, not lowering the pan, despite how heavy it was. She blinked as recognition slammed into her. “You’re the guy from the bar last night.”

The man raised an eyebrow and then the same infuriating smirk he’d given her last night slid onto his face. “Burger girl.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Nesta demanded, ignoring the fact that he’d just called her burger girl and lowering the frying pan to her side. She didn’t think she was in any imminent danger, but she wasn’t putting it down, just to be safe.

The man scoffed and gestured to her and her weapon. “I could ask you the same thing.”

For a moment, Nesta hesitated. She’d been a little too forthcoming talking to Emerie yesterday, but she felt like she could trust the girl’s kind face. She may not have known her, but she was a member of Nesta’s own. This man was a complete stranger…who she was standing in front of in nothing but her tank top and a pair of men’s boxer shorts she liked to sleep in.

With a sigh, she admitted, “I’m on holiday. I did a home exchange with the woman who lives here. She didn’t mention any roommates though.”

The musician stood in front of her, analyzing Nesta’s words with a glint of humor in his hazel eyes. When he didn’t say anything, Nesta shifted on her feet. 

“What?” she snapped. 

He shrugged. “Aelin would tell me she’s going out of town but not tell me the whole story. Although, she’s about to get an earful from me considering I was trying to be nice and water her damn plants while she was gone.” Nesta wondered if he was trying to mention something that would make Nesta confess that she was breaking and entering, that she was a con, but she had nothing to hide. “But I assume that if you’re staying here, you’ll be watering the plants.”

“I will,” Nesta said, lifting her chin, although she felt very little dignity. “I think I’m perfectly capable of watering a few plants.”

There were more than a few, but she didn’t need to tell him that. Apparently he knew how many plants were in the house or he wouldn’t be there.

Then the thought occurred to Nesta. “Oh, shit, is Aelin your girlfriend?” 

The laugh that came out of the cocky bastard was thunderous. “Hell no. Neighbors. I live next door. Aelin’s a good friend, but don’t worry, nothing more.”

Nesta began to nod until his words registered. “Don’t worry? Why the hell would I be worried?”

He shrugged. “I saw how you were watching me while you shoveled that burger in your mouth.”

He somehow made that sound like an innuendo, making Nesta’s lip curl. She couldn’t tell if he was messing with her or if he was really that full of himself. Either way, she wanted to slap that grin right off his face. 

“I’m Cassian,” he went on, when Nesta’s gaping wasn’t answer enough. 

“I don’t care,” Nesta said, considering she hadn’t asked. “You’re an intruder, actually. Pretty sure this little stunt falls under breaking and entering.”

“It's a crime to water a friend’s plants?” he pushed, rocking back on his heels. “Well, shit. Sue me, I guess. Besides,” he added, fishing into his pockets and pulling out a set of keys. “Don’t think it counts as breaking and entering if you have a key.”

She’d researched quite a few things as she wrote her books, but she’d never looked into the legality of letting yourself into someone’s home with no intent to harm, so she couldn’t even argue with him with confidence. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, still holding the heavy, cast iron pan. “Well, if that’s all, I’d like to return to my breakfast.”

His gaze left hers and dropped to her crossed arms and, once again, she was acutely aware of the fact that she was wearing a tank top.

And no bra.

Turning to head back towards the kitchen, Nesta heard him say, “I’ll be playing at the Illyrian again tonight.”

“I’m busy,” she said, crossing the threshold, which was a lie. She hadn’t decided what she was doing that evening, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be watching him get ogled by his fangirls again. Even if it was the best burger she’d had in years and fell asleep with his sensual voice in her mind.

Her dreams hadn’t been bad, either. 

As Nesta walked back into the kitchen, annoyance had her tensing as Cassian’s footsteps followed a few feet behind her.

“I don’t remember inviting you in,” she grumbled, setting the frying pan back on the stovetop. 

“I was already in,” he reminded her. “Key, remember? So, the Illyrian—”

“I’m busy,” Nesta repeated, turning on the stovetop. 

“I don’t believe you,” he crooned, stopping at the entrance of the kitchen and leaning against the threshold. “Come on. I’ll make Rhys serve you free drinks all night.” Nesta scoffed. “Making someone serve me free drinks? Sounds like another illegal stunt of yours.”

“Well, when you own the place you can do whatever the hell you want,” Cassian said.

Nesta froze, and looked over her shoulder with a lifted brow. “Own the place?” “Rhys does,” he clarified. “Owns the place. Works the bar when they need the extra help. He mixes a better drink than most of his bartenders, anyway.” He shrugged. “He’s my brother. So free drinks.”

“Free drinks don’t appeal to me,” Nesta said, turning back to the stovetop. She stood up straighter, wondering if he was looking at the back of her, at her ass and her bare shoulders. Some part of her that she tried to ignore really hoped that he was. The idea made her cheeks turn pink. 

“Liar,” he said, but pushed off the frame. “I’ll keep a table open for you if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

“You might.”

“I’m busy.”

“Liar.”

“You can’t accuse me of lying, you don’t even know me.” After dousing the pan in oil, she turned to Cassian, arms crossed over her chest. “I’m sorry that I have better things to do than listen to you woo girls with your covers all night.”

His lips quirked. “Woo?”

He was so sure of himself, so confident in the way he stood, the way that he watched her. His smile was lazy, but his eyes were bright. Even in his hoodie, she could tell he was well-built. She wondered how many hours a week that he spent in the gym, toning himself up to impress his groupies. His hair, although untamed and way too long, fascinated Nesta. It gave him a sense of adventure and rebellion. He stood with a sense of authority. He watched her, all-knowing of every thought that ran through her mind.

“Shouldn’t you be going?” Nesta asked, turning back to the stove. “I probably should, before you call the cops on me,” he said, and he took a few steps back. “But if you’re not coming to watch me play, at least grant me your name.”

Nesta cracked an egg in the skillet. “You seem to know plenty of women’s names. There’s no need to know mine.”

“Sounds like jealousy to me.”

Gods, this asshole was insufferable. “Nesta.”

“Nesta,” he repeated, and his tone had her damn near quivering. She loathed him. “Well, Nesta, if you change your mind…your table from last night will be waiting for you.”

Nesta said nothing more, and Cassian didn’t say goodbye as he showed himself out, shutting the front door behind him. 

Nesta burnt the eggs.

<.>.<.>.<.>

Getting down the mountain was easier than Aelin had expected. There was a sporty blue SUV in the garage and after making sure her car insurance would protect Nesta in the case of an accident, Aelin snatched the keys off the wall and backed out of the driveway.

If she found a tree down in Orynth, she’d have to be able to get it back to the cottage. Not that she’d be able to get it into the house after that, but that was a problem for later.

Cursing the weather, Aelin carefully made her way down the mountain, thankful that she was used to driving in the snowy conditions Velaris usually dumped out in the winter.

Granted, there was never this much snow, but she decided some experience was better than nothing.

When she finally made it down to the city, she stopped at a shop called The Christmas Village.

She was sure Nesta had decorations somewhere, but she wasn’t about to start snooping through her host’s closets.

Even if she had borrowed her car without permission.

Aelin lived by the law that it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission. It was an ideology that got her in trouble when she was younger, but pushed her ahead in the world once she had gotten older. 

Her tree at home was pretty specifically decorated. All of the ornaments were silver and white. As she walked into The Christmas Village, she didn’t think she would be able to buy silver and white ornaments in bulk. In fact, there were lines of ornaments, every single one of them unique and different.

Aelin found it charming. 

It only took a half hour to fill her basket. She had ornaments of all different colors, shapes, and sizes, each with their own unique beauty. It was kind of freeing, getting ornaments that didn’t match or coincide with one another. She had snowflakes and snowmen, candy canes and little sweaters, glittery balls and one shaped like a stack of books. She had even found an ornament shaped like a piano, which she adored as it reminded her of her youth.  

Other than ornaments, Aelin had found a couple of garlands and candles, and a series of lights to string all over the cabin. Maybe she was going overboard, but she was feeling festive.

All she needed now was a tree. 

As she checked out at the counter, she gave the elderly man a smile. “Do you know where I can find a good tree?”

The man chuckled. “Less than a week until Christmas, and you still don’t have a tree?”

There was no judgment in his voice, only humor. Aelin shook her head. “No, not yet. I’m in desperate need of one.”

“Luckily there’s a lot just around the corner,” the man said, smiling as he wrapped each of Aelin’s ornaments. “Owned by a local tree farmer. Great selection. I’d start there.”

Aelin thanked him and was on her way.

It didn’t take her long to locate the lot, and judging by the number of other cars parked there, she wasn’t the only one behind in picking out a tree it seemed.

After only a few minutes, she found the perfect tree. It was only a foot or so taller than she was, which was ideal, since she couldn’t remember how tall the ceilings were in the small cottage. It wasn’t too skinny, but it also wasn’t too wide at the base, and the color was the most beautiful color of green she’d ever seen.

As she was looking at it, wondering exactly how she was planning to get a six foot tall tree into the cottage by herself, she heard, “If that’s the one you want, I can help you load it onto—”

Aelin turned and there stood Rowan.

He was just as handsome as he’d been the night before, not that Aelin had been fixating on that since their midnight encounter, maybe even more so that she could see him in the sunlight.

He’d clearly been out in the brisk wind all day, if his red cheeks were any indicator, but now she amended her earlier thought about the tree being the most beautiful color of green she’d ever seen.

His eyes were clear and crisp, the color of the trees around him. They stood out against the stark tattoo that ran down one side of his face and neck. She hadn’t noticed it the night before, possibly due to the lighting, possibly due to the fact that she was dead on her feet and jet lag had already been kicking her ass.

“Hi,” she said, stupidly.

He replied, “Hi.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Aelin asked, “So you’re a tree farmer and a lumberjack?”

To her surprise, he chuckled. “Yeah, I’m a tree farmer…and I chop wood, so I guess so.”

Aelin looked back at the tree before her. “How long has it taken this tree to grow?”

Rowan shrugged. “A few years. These are some of my favorites. They’re so full, and the branches are so thick. I have one in my own living room. It’s beautiful.”

Aelin looked at him and tilted her head. “You’re being awfully kind for someone I bitched out after midnight.” 

His grin was mesmerizing. He looked away as his smile spread. “Yeah, well, if a stranger showed up at the place I’m renting at midnight, I would’ve been a little moody too. I promise my intentions—”

“The wood you left kept me warm all night, so I have to thank you,” Aelin said.  “If you hadn’t shown up, I’m sure I’d be frozen in place on the couch right now.”

Rowan huffed a laugh. “Happy to help. I can bring another truck full in the morning that should last your whole stay. I know I didn’t leave very much, it was just what I had left from my stops yesterday.” 

“And the tree?” “The tree?”

Aelin gestured to the tree behind her. “When you drop off the wood, could you drop off this tree, too?”

His eyes fell on the tree and then bounced back to her face. His eyes were bright, despite the cold around them. “I don’t normally do deliveries, but since it’s on the way, I can drop it off on the way home tonight.”

Aelin beamed. “That means I can decorate it before bed.”

“You really like Christmas, don’t you?” He chuckled, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“Of course, it’s the most wonderful time of the year,” she said, not caring that she sounded like a Hallmark movie.

Shaking his head, Rowan couldn’t help but smile. “That it is.”

As Aelin was walking back to Nesta’s blue SUV, Rowan called after her, “Nesta told me she was leaving you my number in case you needed more firewood, but I don’t have yours. If you’d like, I can call you when I’m on the way with the tree.”

Turning, Aelin met his gaze, one eyebrow raised. “Is this your way of asking for my number?”

Rowan’s lips twitched as he hesitated. “Don’t get too cocky, I’m only trying to help.”

“In the city, we call that flirting,” Aelin said, and didn’t hate the way her chest felt a little lighter when he smiled. 

“Is this the city way of you telling me no?” Rowan asked, amused as he crossed his arms across his broad chest.

Aelin laughed, shaking her head. “I’ll text you as soon as I get back to the house. Then my number will be all yours.”

“Hmmm,” Rowan contemplated. “Still sounds like a rejection. What if you forget?”

Aelin had to bite her lip to keep from grinning like a fool. “I won’t.”

“And if I don’t believe that?” He pushed, eyes bright.

“Then I guess you’ll have to wait until I prove you wrong,” Aelin said, shrugging. 

Rowan’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. He started walking back towards the herd of customers as he said, “Don’t wait too long.”

With one last smirk in her direction, Rowan disappeared and left Aelin watching him go. There was something about him that captivated her, something mischievous that she couldn’t place her finger on. Maybe she was just dwelling in this little village that felt like Christmas, feeling the holiday’s joy and peace.

Either way, the second she got back to Nesta’s, Aelin found the note with Rowan’s number and sent him a text.

See you this afternoon, delivery boy.

[harryimaginedstories]

not quite resolved

I m p o r t a n t: This is a continuation of my story: not quite honest 

Hello everyone! I’m not really back, but I couldn’t not write this one. Hope you enjoy! I think it’s essential to read part one to really understand what’s going on, but feel free to do as you please. Have fun! x

Several weeks had passed since Y/N and Harry had held each other, hoping that by squeezing the other person close that they could erase the dreadful hurt of the night. Harry, equally grateful as surprised that the night didn’t end with her sending him on his way, allowed himself to be hopeful. Though only timidly. He hoped that by pulling her to his chest, he could chase away any lingering doubt in her mind. Y/N in turn hoped that if she allowed herself to be held, the losing of trust would stop. She wanted to trust him. Believe what he said. Trusting and believing his words had always come so easily and natural to her during their time together. It was a hard conclusion to draw when she asked herself where exactly the root of her pain was coming from. She didn’t know how to rebuild their effortless believe in each other.  So she’d held onto him tighter, chuckled at his words of humour and hoped, truly and whole heartedly, that this would be enough. 

To some degree this worked. Or to the very least, it looked like it did.

The next few weeks were noticeably different than before. The days were marked by the slight change in behaviour. Y/N was less touchy with him. Something Harry wasn’t embarrassed to admit he noticed the quickest, as well as this being the one thing that he found the hardest to ignore. They still kissed, they had sex. More so than before, actually. But the small things, like a lingering hand or kiss on the cheek just because she could - those small gestures of love and attention, they were gone. Instead Harry could see the wheels turning insider her head each time before she as much as slightly initiated that she would like to be physical with him. He watched her rethink every gesture, hesitate before touching him. Almost as if he didn’t belong to her. It pained him that his past mistakes had made her doubt her ownership over him.  The only times this seemed to be different was when they were in bed together. But those moments could barely make up for the loss of affection found in ordinary gestures.

Harry wasn’t quite the same with Y/N either. He would close the distance between them any chance he got, an overcompensation for her withdrawal. Y/N barely got to stand beside him without his arm heavily draped around her shoulders or his hand resting on her hip to pull er up against him. Even when they were around others and his attention was forced elsewhere, a hand would constantly touch Y/N. Her arm, her hand, her shoulder or her thigh. If physical touch had been his favourite way to show attention before, the need had grown tenfold since the truth of his intentions had come out. The subtle change in his behaviour didn’t go unnoticed by her. At first she’d struggled to really put a finger on what exactly was different. Perhaps it was simply that he didn’t take her, their relationship and even the littlest of details for granted anymore. 

Despite moving on from their conflict proving itself to be much harder than she’d anticipated, Y/N loved him. She loved him so much. Calling it quits and giving up was never considered, not after it briefly crossing her mind when she’d stared at herself in the bathroom mirror of that horrible bar she had never wanted to return to since. She wouldn’t be happy without him. She reminded herself of this every time her heart sank at the memory of his betrayal. And she ignored the tiny voice in her head, reminding her that she wasn’t really happy with him either.

So this is how several weeks passed. They hadn’t talked about what had happened again, nor did they address the clear changes in their relationship. Both were accepting and hoping. Harry hoped dearly that Y/N would find it in herself to move on if given enough time and proven repeatedly that he only wanted her. Y/N hoped that she would forget everything. And that she never had to see Lucy again. 

She was denied both wishes. 

It happened on a Tuseday. Y/N stood in line for coffee, in the same shop Harry and her had had their first date. The coffee place Lucy had always frequented in back when she’d been in town, a fact that had made her hesitate before entering, considering that the memory was unwelcome. But the coffee there was one of the best and she knew it would make Harry happy. Five minutes of standing in line, debating whether or not she should ask for extra vanilla flavour in her mug, Y/N felt a hand touch her shoulder. Her heart sped up. Of course Lucy would come back to their lives on the same day Y/N had decided to get coffee for Harry in order to show him that she wasn’t giving up.

“Y/N!” Lucy squealed, before apologizing to the people behind her, presumably for cutting the line so she could stand right behind her. 

“Lucy”, Y/N swallowed harshly, then smiled. “Hi.”

“It’s nice seeing you again! What a coincidence. I’m barely on this side of town anymore.” 

Lucy went on explaining where she’d been and what adventurous turns her life had taken since she’d stopped hanging out with them, and Y/N only heard half of it. All she could do was stare. Lucy had always been pretty. Very pretty. It hadn’t surprised Y/N one bit when Mica had mentioned Harry having had feelings for the girl, because truly who didn’t. Lucy wore her hair shorter than before and with some sections dyed a lighter shade of her natural colour. On anyone else the look might be difficult to pull off, but on Lucy it looked amazing. Cool, edgy. A little cheeky but well put together. Despite the cool weather, her legs were bare and only halfway covered by her high reaching boots. Paired with a skirt and top Y/N doubted would ever suit her- well, Lucy was as pretty as ever. 

“How’s Harry?” 

Hearing his name from her lips brought Y/N’s attention back. Similar to how a cold shower of ice water could wake you in an instant. Lucy stared at her with expectant eyes, an emotion in them Y/N couldn’t quite name.

“Oh”, Y/N cleared her throat, “he’s doing well, thanks. I’m getting him coffee actually.”

“Aren’t you the sweetest!” Lucy smiled, then nudged her head to front, insinuating to Y/N that it was her turn to order. 

Y/N wanted to curse when her words came out in a stutter and her hands shook when paying for the drinks. She forgot all about the vanilla flavour and instead hoped that the barista would work fast on her drinks. If only she’d skipped coffee and gone straight home. She should’ve just told Harry that she appreciated him. Now it seemed silly of her to expect a coffee to do so for her. And she would’ve avoided a face off with the one person she could lose Harry to.

Lose Harry. The thought had her shudder and fingers tremble as she reached for some napkins on the counter, despite not really needing any.

“I’d really like to see him again!” Lucy continued once she held her own cup of coffee, “The whole gang actually. Do you think you could add me to your group chat again? So we can arrange something?”

“I don’t-” Y/N stuttered, “I don’t think I have your new number.”

Lucy’s eyes widened before she playfully face palmed herself. “Right! Of course, silly me. Let me just give it to you and we’ll sort something out, okay?”

Y/N wouldn’t be able to say why exactly she didn’t decline and why she instead stood silently as Lucy took her phone and saved her number in it. 

....

Despite the coffee being now cold, Harry was thrilled. It had been a few weeks since Y/N had brought him any kind of beverage or food unsolicited and simply because she’d thought of him. 

“You’re an angel”, he repeated, taking another sip, “I needed that.” 

Y/N simply smiled softly from where she stood by the counter. Harry sat by the table, laptop and research material crowding the small space. He looked good. He was dressed in a soft cotton shirt that fell loose on his broad frame as well as a pair of sweatpants he’d owned for so long already that their black had long faded into a grey tone. He always refused when she offered to get him new ones. “These have character.” He’d always say, starting up a debate with her on how or why a pair of sweats would have character. 

“This document is really kicking my arse. You’d excel at it of course, but I-”

“I ran into Lucy.”

Harry’s posture never froze so fast before. He stared at Y/N, his eyes wide and lips slightly agape. He’d hoped he misunderstood, but the look in her eyes said it all. Y/N kept a healthy distance between them, her arms crossed over her chest. He hated that. She looked so upset, as if she was trying to physically hold herself together. All because of him.

“When?” he asked, his words slow. 

“Just now. In the coffee shop. Should’ve known she’d return there some day, as addicted to it as she was.”

Harry cleared his throat. Slowly, unsure if Y/N would bolt, he rose to his feet and approached his girlfriend to stand in front of her. 

“Are you okay?” 

Y/N ignored him. “She wants to see you. Gave me her number to give to you.”

Harry frowned. “What?”

Her head turned away, eyes directed anywhere but him. “Well, she didn’t say that exactly. But she wants to see you. The rest of our friends, too and I’m now in charge of setting that up.”

“Oh.”

Y/N nodded. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to say anything more. There was nothing that would make the situation any better. At least nothing he hadn’t already said several times. In an ideal world - actually scratch that. The world wasn’t ideal, proven once more by fate not accepting her wish to never have to see Lucy again. Y/N huffed, something Harry knew she only did when she was angry.

Gently, afraid she’d shove him off, Harry reached for Y/N’s right hand. He removed it from where she’d clawed at herself to remain physically closed off. Slowly, he unfolded her arms and pulled, just enough for his hand to enclose around her wrist.

“You don’t have to do any of that. You know that, right?” 

Y/N still didn’t look at him, but her eyes moved from staring at the tile floor to looking at the skin he was touching. His thumb rubbed over her wrist. 

“I’m not going to see her”, Harry continued, his voice steady and certain, “And you don’t have to arrange anything. Tell her whatever but don’t force yourself to... I know she’s the last person you’d want to spend time with.”

“And you?” Y/N spoke so quietly it took Harry a moment to understand that she’d asked a question, rather than adding him to the list of people she didn’t want around. 

“Me?”

Y/N nodded. Finally she looked up and met his gaze. Harry’s heart squeezed painfully at the veil of tears gathered in her eyes. He sighed lowly and let go of her hand. Instead, he clasped her cheek, stepped closer and rested his forehead against hers. 

“You thought I would be happy.” It wasn’t a question.

Harry exhaled harshly. He didn’t think fast enough to stop himself, nor did he want to, from stepping even closer. His mouth pressed to Y/N’s temple before she could flinch, then travelled lower to her cheek, the corner of her lips and finally, the middle of her forehead. His hand moved upwards and held Y/N’s elbow, while the other reached for her free arm and searched for her hand. 

“Y/N,” he mumbled, lips moist as they pressed to her skin “I don’t want to see her. And I’m not at all happy about her being back.”

“You’re not?” 

“The only person I want to spend time with is you. The only person I want to do anything with, is you.”

She closed her eyes. His breath was warm against her cheek. Perhaps feeling the words as he spoke them helped. Slowly, unsure if she wanted to, Y/N let her fingers close around the hand that was desperately holding hers. 

“I love you”, Y/N said.

Harry’s soft laugh tickled her neck, his head falling forward and face burying in her neck. The relief of her words came crushing down on him, forcing his body forward so he could cradle her closer.

“I love you, too. Only you”, he promised into her skin, “I know your trust in me has taken a toll.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. Truthfully he didn’t want to hear one. So he took a step backwards and smiled at her, his hand still tightly clutching hers.

“I understand that it did. It’s why I’ll keep saying that I only want you, over and over until you believe me. I only love you. It’s always you. For everything, all the time. Regardless of who’s standing beside you, who’s damn number you’ve saved in your phone. I want you. No one else.”

His quiet reassurances helped. Just like the caring gestures of his, like holding her hand and softly stroking her cheek. They were why Y/N so often thought herself close to letting go of her doubts. But then Lucy’s face appeared before her eyes, followed closely by the way Harry’s eyes used to linger on her. Even after he’d asked Y/N to go out on second date. Every single time. Somehow she hadn’t noticed it then.

Harry pulled her out of her thoughts with a soft squeeze of hands. “Do you believe me?”

Once her eyes met his, he instantly regretted asking. Because despite Y/N’s soft nod, her expression said it all. She didn’t.

.... 

They didn’t talk too much about the topic that night. Any further attempts of his to ease her mind were quickly shut down by her court replies. Harry did end up convincing Y/N not to text Lucy. He assured her repeatedly that he wouldn’t want to go anyway, regardless of what kind of plans Lucy had in mind. He did so desperately, with his hands clutching Y/N’s tightly and an earnest expression on his face, before she agreed and pulled her fingers from his. She’d heard his promises several times in the past weeks, always more or less the same. It surprised her that he hadn’t run out of them yet, especially since she’d long run out of what to say. 

Y/N remembered how easily she’d found the right words that night. She’d expressed her hurt after he’d followed her to the bathroom to talk. She’d voiced her anger in the car. Her hopelessness in the park. And once in her flat, she’d managed to express her unwavering love, her need for them to make it through. Since then, she hadn’t had much luck however. “It’s alright, Harry”, she would usually say. It hurt to see his disappointment at her court reply. But she just didn’t know what else would be truthful enough for her to say.

Did she forgive him? On some days, mostly. On others, barely. Had she stopped thinking about him with Lucy? Not even close. The image of the two of them together or the sound of Lucy’s name falling from his lips haunted her daily. Even though the sight of her Harry with Lucy was mostly a product of her imagination. Given that once they’d started dating, Lucy and Harry barely saw each other. Considering she hadn’t given Lucy her own number, it was unlikely that she would ever reach the couple herself. Y/N also agreed that it didn’t matter what Lucy thought of her. If she was annoyed or upset about Y/N not following through with her suggestion to make plans together, then so be it. Y/N simply would know which coffee place to avoid from now on. Harry had not bothered to hide the relief when she’d agreed not to follow through with Lucy’s request. Additionally to all the worry he could tell his girlfriend was still plagued by, he truly did not want this to build on top of it. He also hoped it wouldn’t wreck the trust she’d been able to regain. 

If only he never had to see Lucy. Of course, his wish also wouldn’t be granted.

.... 

Since their eventful dinner a few weeks ago, Harry met up with his friends alone. It wasn’t that Y/N was holding grudges against any of them, not even Mica, who’d unknowingly spilled the secret.

“I just feel a little useless with them”, Y/N said, laying next to Harry on the couch one afternoon, two days after her run in with Lucy. He had plans with friends that night and had hoped that this time his girlfriend would join him.

Harry frowned. “If you’re mad at them, then-”

“I’m not mad. It’s hard to explain. I don’t even think that they would’ve owed me anything or should’ve told me.”

Y/N gently took hold of his shirt. Harry suppressed a groan.

“But?” 

Harry turned to lay on his side, resting his hand on her naked stomach. She smiled at the contact, looking down to where his touch met her skin. Her own fingers graze his knuckles. He couldn’t understand how, but whenever they were laying together, her apprehension against him seemed to have gone away. Her kiss would taste of neediness. Her hands were gentle but firm in her hold on him. Such a contrast to her usual behaviour. Y/N snuggled further into the pillow and peered up at him. He could tell she was choosing her words well, which only furthered the worry settling in his stomach.

“My own friends would never have kept that a secret. They would’ve asked me months ago if I knew or how we worked past you only dating me to make someone else jealous.”

“I didn’t only date you to-”

“Let’s not go there right now, please,” Y/N dismissed his protests, but her hand remained gentle as she stroked the back of his, whilst her other pulled his shirt up and exposed his stomach, “You know what I mean. I’m just not sure what I would say to them. Especially after that scene I caused by leaving without saying goodbye.”

When he spoke next, his tone was gentle, soft. “They don’t care about that. Everybody understood why you had to leave.”

“Still”, Y/N whispered and lifted herself up to lay her head onto his chest, his hand falling from her belly and to her hip, “I’d rather you went to see them without me again, if that’s okay.”

“Of course, love,” he agreed easily. Harry would’ve agreed to anything with her cuddling herself on top of his body. “Are you going to stay here and wait up or do you want to go home?”

“I’ll stay. I could catch up on that TV show you recommended I watch.” 

Harry gasped, rolling over so he was hovering over her. His face wore an expression of mocked shock, with his lips parted and eyes wide. For once, the worry had nearly completely escaped his eyes, warming Y/N’s chest. If only they would always feel this light.

“You’re going to watch without me? How dare you!” 

Mischief sparkled in her eyes and she grinned. “That’s what you get.”

“I’m crushed.”

Harry smiled and leaned forward, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the skin of her neck. He missed her. All the time. The nights they spent together, arms around each other and with mouths nipping on bare skin, simply weren’t enough. Not when come morning, his Y/N was gone and replaced by someone who radiated uncertainty in the strength of their relationship. He wouldn’t dare complain. Especially not when her hands found his waist before travelling the short distance down to his boxers. Her nose nudged his cheek, then her lips found his. She kissed him, parting only to sigh his name.

Both were far too lost in each other to notice the screen of Harry’s phone light up, indicating the arrival of a text message, followed by another.

Unknown number, 14:23 pm Hey, H! It’s Lucy. Got your number from Jeremy. It’s been a while?! But I’m back in town! Unknown number, 14:26 pm Y/N must’ve forgotten to pass on the message, but I’d like to meet up! Let me know when you’re free, I’m up for it whenever. Talk soon. x

A few hours later when all kisses she was willing to give and receive that morning were shared, Harry got dressed and left the flat to go meet Mica and some others at a bar. Y/N turned her head to make room for Harry’s lips to press to her cheek, the kiss heavy with goodbye, even when it was only for the rest of the evening. Then she watched as the door shut behind him. A heavy breath fell from her lips. 

“Great”, she mumbled, hoping to silence the small voice in her head that urged her to run to the door and stop him from leaving, “Just as I wanted.” 

Only that it wasn’t really. Lately, Y/N only knew two moods she could fall into. Either, she was happy and able to forget the troubles of the last week, under the conditions that Harry had to be there and either of them had to be naked. The other mood she couldn’t quite name. It was a strange and unwelcome mixture of anger, sadness and fatigue. With Harry gone, she didn’t feel happy at all.

....

Sat in a seating booth with an old fashioned in front of him, Harry did his best to keep his mind from drifting off to Y/N. Had it been wrong to leave her alone? Should he have told her of the texts that seemingly doubled the weight of the phone in his pocket? No. She would only worry too much, he told himself. An excuse that seemed sensible enough to him that he, upon seeing Lucy’s messages, ignored them and swallowed the words resting on his tongue that were begging to come out and tell Y/N. He was glad he’d picked up his phone before Y/N would’ve caught a glimpse and seen them. God know how horrid that would’ve ended.

“So how are you and my babe going?” Andrew, who sat opposite him, asked. 

Harry sensed the under tone and appreciated that his friend had waited for Nadia and Mica to get more drinks before bringing it up. Andrew wasn’t present when Y/N learned of Harry’s previous intentions, but he’d heard the story. 

“I still really don’t like it when you call her that”, Harry grumbled, making his friend laugh and apologize, “but she’s alright. We’re alright.”

Andrew gave him a small smile, not missing the tone in his voice. “Are things still weird?” 

Harry nodded and took another sip of his drink. “Yeah, very. It’s not that we’re fighting a lot but... I sometimes feel like we’re... I don’t know.”

His hand pulled at the roots of his hair. He welcomed the small stinging sensation.

“Something’s changed”, Andrew concluded.

“Yes and I have no clue how to get us back”, by now Harry was almost whispering, the weight of his honesty almost painful, “But I’m trying. Constantly and she’s just... It’s tiring. Like, I realize that I have little room to complain because honestly I thought she’d break up with me on the spot. I’m lucky that she didn’t.”

“But?”

Harry bit his lower lip, debating if he should voice the thoughts he had yet to share with anyone. 

“I’m a little mad at her”, he confessed.

“I get that.” 

“You do?” Harry asked, surprised. 

Andrew nodded, his expression not at all judgemental how Harry had expected it to be. He thought his friend would find something to hit him with, or perhaps laugh. Instead, the sincerity in his eyes did wonders to Harry’s nerves, calming them and managing to tame the guilt he felt upon speaking his thoughts for the first time.

“Honestly, I’d be surprised if you weren’t by now”, Andrew stated, his tone gentle, “I understand Y/N’s shock at the information and obviously you definitely should’ve told her the minute you realized you were serious about her.”

Andrew took another sip of his drink, a weird looking, orange liquid Harry didn’t dare question, then continued, “And I adore her. But... well, it sounds to me like she’s punishing you. She’s not talking to you, I assume. She says everything is fine but nothing is how it used to be?”

Harry nodded. “Pretty much. And worse.”

“It’s a little as if you had cheated on her and she’s now punishing you for it. Which, Harry, you didn’t. You betrayed her trust in you, yes, but when it comes down to it, then it was just a crush. One that you were allowed to have.”

“Bit more than a cursh, if I’m honest. And it did over line with my relationship. That wasn’t okay.”

Andrew shrugged. “Agreed. But you and Lucy didn’t do anything together. You had her on your mind the first time you went out with Y/N. That sucks, sure, no doubt. But in all honesty, who is committed to a person after one date these days?”

“Y/N is”, Harry said easily, “I wish I would’ve been like that, too.”

“We all would want this big romantic start for a relationship”, Andrew shrugged, “For it to be perfect and sweet. But in truth, and again, I love Y/N, you didn’t owe her anything at the beginning of you two going out. And you apologized for your ulterior motives once she found out about them. You guys even fought pretty bad that same night as I’ve been told.”

“Don’t remind me”, Harry mumbled, the memory of their argument unwelcome.

“If I may be so honest”, Andrew said, “I think you should’ve either broken up then, or moved forward by now. I don’t think it’s fair of her that she keeps dragging this on. Considering that, again, you didn’t cheat on her.”

Harry sighed. His hands shook a little as he raised the class in front of him and gulped down the rest of its content. He couldn’t tell if he was relieved that he partially agreed with his friend, or afraid.

“Thanks for saying that, Andrew. I’m glad you don’t... I guess I’m glad someone doesn’t see me as a villain.”

“Of course. And please, don’t misinterpret what I’m saying, I really mean no offense to Y/N. If this is her way of healing then I guess it’s just a different way than what mine would be.” 

“I know you don’t mean to offend her. Wouldn’t be calling her such inappropriate nicknames if you did.”

He laughed. “Is it better if I start calling you babe, as well?”

“Definitely not,” Harry chuckled, “But anyway, I would wish she’d pick a different road as well. She could shout at me, throw all my stuff down the stairs of my flat or key her name into my car. Even if it were a reaction as crazy as that one, at least we’d be going somewhere. Now we’re just... stuck.”

“Have you told her any of what you just said?”

“No, I’m too much of a coward to pick another fight with her.” 

Andrew sighed, “Maybe Y/N is too afraid to be honest about how she feels or what she wants, too?”

Harry could practically feel how the rhythm of his heart changed and sped up. “You think she might want to break up but won’t tell me?”

“No, but I think the reason she’s being so weird is that perhaps she doesn’t want to tell you how she really feels. Maybe she’s angrier with you than she’s willing to admit.”

Before Harry could reply, Mica and Nadia approached their table, beers in their hands whilst stuck in a hectic debate, too preoccupied with their arguments to notice the serious atmosphere at the table. Harry shot Andrew a look, silently thanking him again but agreeing, that they wouldn’t continue talking about it. Andrew easily joined his friends in the conversation while Harry sat back and pretended to listen. Instead his mind wandered back to Y/N. 

He knew that she wasn’t thinking about breaking up with him. They wouldn’t be having as much sex as they did if that was the case. Y/N wouldn’t want him near her if she really intended to end their relationship soon. But maybe Andrew was right and there were feelings she was yet to express to him. She’d said so much that night, but since then, whenever the topic came up - even after encountering Lucy - Y/N barely said anything. Maybe it was time that he forced her to talk, and simultaneously force himself to hear what he really didn’t want to. Otherwise he didn’t know how they would be able to move forward.

“Harry?” Nadia poked his shoulder, “is that okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry cleared his throat, “I was a bit distracted. What’s up?”

“Lucy said she’d like to come by, if that’s alright. But I’ll tell her not to if it’s weird for you.”

He frowned. Lucy? The unease in his stomach grew and his voice stuttered, “Why does she have your number?”

“Jeremy shared it with her. They met up a couple days ago.”

Of course he did. Lucy. After months of not hearing from her, not caring about her - she was back. And somehow would not leave him alone. Harry sighed and momentarily rested his face in his palms. Then he shook his head and looked at his friends. 

“It’s fine, but I’m gonna go before she gets here.”

“No, no, that’s not-”

“It’s fine”, Harry interrupted Mica and Andrew, “Really. It’s cool if you want to see her, she’s your friend, too. But I’m not going to sit opposite her when Y/N doesn’t know and isn’t here, as well. After everything that’s happened... sounds like a recipe for disaster. M’sorry.”

“No, you know what, I’ll tell her not to come by tonight. She’d understand”, Nadia insisted, and reached over the table to squeeze Harry’s wrist gently before going to grab her phone.

He smiled. “Thanks.”

“Ehr, guys”, Andrew cleared his throat, his head turned towards the entrance of the bar, “I guess it’s a little too late for that ‘cause she’s already here.”

....

“I don’t understand you.”

Y/N barked a laugh. “Thanks.”

Kate giggled on the other side of the line. “Sorry, but you didn’t call me thinking I would mince words, did you?”

“Maybe I should’ve forgiven him by now, or do you think I’m making a mistake? Am I being too dramatic?” Y/N asked, her voice much more shy than she would’ve liked as she tried to piece together her confusion.

“You’re not too dramatic. If I were in your position Harry Styles would’ve got his arse kicked. I think you’ve let him off easily and now you regret it.”

Y/N frowned, her bottom lip raw from her teeth constantly pulling at it. Despite the homour in Kate’s voice meant to soothe her, Y/N couldn’t quite shake the guilt weighing on her shoulders. 

“I don’t know... we did fight pretty bad about it.”

“I know”, Kate agreed, “But you haven’t since. You’re just being weird with him and my guess is that is because you want to be over it but you’re not. You want to not be angry at him anymore but you are.”

“Maybe.”

“Just maybe?” Kate asked, the teasing smile audible.

“Probably. Yes. But I’m so sick of being mad at him, too. I want to be happy again. We were so happy. Sometimes I wish I would’ve never found out. It didn’t hurt not knowing, all the pain happened after.”

“Now you’re sounding like a proper idiot.”

“You really did mean it when you said you wouldn’t mince words.”

Kate joined her laughter, “I’m sorry! Tell me when you want me to be nicer to you and I will stifle comments like that. Promise.”

“I shouldn’t have sent him away tonight.”

“Agreed.”

Y/N, surprised at Kate’s words, set her phone on speaker and opened the door to his bedroom. “What do you mean you’re agreeing with me. You just said you would be kicking Harry’s arse if you were me.”

“And I would be. But honestly Y/N... you should’ve broken up with him then and there.”

“What? No, I could never-”

“Let me finish. You should’ve ended it then, or you should work on moving forward with him. Solve the issue together, not you on your own and he by himself. It’s obvious that that’s not working out so far. I say you both have to learn how to be honest, completely honest, not only half way. And then solve your relationship together.”

“Wow”, Y/N mumbled, her hands holding the knob to Harry’s drawer where he’d made room for some of her clothing, as she stood frozen in motion at her friend’s words.

“I know.”

“You’re right.”

“I know”, Kate repeated, “Now go after him and fix it.”

“Already on it. I’m getting dressed right now.”

“Great! Which bar did he say they were going to? I’ll book you an uber.”

....

“Why didn’t you text me back?”

It took Lucy less than 20 minutes of being there to corner Harry. He’d smiled uncomfortably upon her arrival, making no effort to get up and greet her like one might expect an old friend to do. Afterwards he avoided all eye contact as well as her questions, grateful that it was always one of his three friends present who chimed in and answered, as if Lucy’s interrogations were directed to all of them and not just the brooding guy ignoring her. It didn’t go unnoticed that his behaviour was infuriating to the girl, who couldn’t quite understand this change in the man who always used to be more than kind and sweet with her. After drinking for a while, Harry couldn’t fight needing to get up and use the loo. He excused himself and left, hoping that Lucy wouldn’t follow him. Of course, he was unlucky. Upon his return, Lucy wasn’t by the table or the bar, but instead waiting in the middle of his path towards his friends. Leaving no room for him to avoid her.

“I must’ve not gotten them. Sorry.”

“Bullshit”, Lucy called him out, “You left me on read.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at him expectantly. Her eyes shone, her lips were painted perfectly. But to Harry, she had never been less attractive. 

“Sorry.”

“Why the hell are you being so weird?” Lucy groaned. 

“I’m not.” 

“Oh, you are!” Lucy laughed, an evil and unkind sound as she closed her hands into fists angrily, gripping the sleeves of her top, “I came here, expecting to see my nice friend Harry but instead you’ve been ignoring me and now you’re rude! I was gone for months, how the fuck did I do something that gives you the right to be an asshole to me now?”

Harry’s head hurt. When was the last time he hadn’t been burdened by problems caused by the girl in front of him? In his raising anger, he ignored his mind reminding him that technically, Lucy hadn’t done anything. She wasn’t the one lying to Y/N. He noticed some heads turning to look at them, their exchange being much louder than what he would’ve liked it to be. He also noticed his friends staring at him, Mica in particular looking uncomfortable. His gaze moved back to Lucy, so he didn’t notice Andrew nudge Nadia, who noticed his expression and turned to look towards the door. Instead he looked at Lucy, who was fuming.

“We used to be so close”, she complained, her voice whiny and heavy with annoyance. 

Harry closed his eyes, sighing. The dull pain in his head intensified. 

“Can we please not do this.”

“Do what? Speak to each other? You’re my friend!”

“I don’t want to be your fucking friend, okay?” Harry finally shouted.

Lucy’s mouth shut. Her eyes widened and she uncrossed her arms. Her lips fought a smile while somebody else’s eyes began to water. If Harry had followed his friend’s view, then he would’ve noticed why their heads turned towards the door of the bar. He would’ve seen who had arrived, despite telling him that she didn’t want to come with him. He would’ve noticed who also heard him firing words at Lucy, in the middle of a bar and with no care of causing a scene. Y/N couldn’t speak. She stood frozen by the bar, her eyes looking at what was an image she’d fought off plenty of times in her nightmares. Harry standing opposite the beautiful girl he once had feelings for, telling her that he didn’t want to be friends. He wanted more. She harshly bit down on her already raw lip. So this was it, she thought. She’d lost him. 

Before she could bolt, Harry continued to speak, still unaware of her presence. His tone gave her chills, for she had never heard him sound quite this angry.

“I don’t fucking understand you, Lucy”, he exhaled, voice lower but still harsh, “Why did you have to first corner my girlfriend and now me, huh? We don’t want anything to do with you.”

“I-” Lucy gasped, “I didn’t do shit to either of you.”

“Obviously, considering you were gone for months.”

“So you’re mad at me because I left?” Lucy’s expression softened and she reached for him, only to be shrugged off.

“I don’t fucking care that you left! I care that since you’re back, you’re trying to mess with my relationship! You know I’m with Y/N, why would you text me and why would you just show up here?”

“You okay?” Y/N flinched, surprised to see Andrew appear beside her and draw her attention away from her angry boyfriend.

Andrew had gotten up from the booth the second he noticed Y/N standing frozen in place. They’d let her down as friends once already. It wouldn’t happen a second time. In her shocked state, he quickly wrapped an arm around her and guided her to the table where Nadia already scooted back to make some room so she could sit. Nadia squeezed her shoulder in comfort. 

“It’s going to be okay”, she muttered soothingly.

“Thank you”, Y/N whispered, suddenly overwhelmed. Her boyfriend was shouting at his former crush and people, who she never truly considered her own friends, especially not in the past weeks, were huddled together in a booth with her, making sure that she was okay.

“Here”, Mica handed her a glass, “It’s only water.”

“I didn’t know you were still with Y/N”, Lucy cried, earning everybody’s attention again, “and regardless - on what a tight fucking leash does she have you that a friend can’t even text you about hanging out?” 

Y/N’s heart fluttered. Texted him? Why hadn’t he told her about that?

Harry’s eyes were almost completely dark, the anger somehow replacing their green. “Don’t mention her.”

“Oh, what a cliché, Styles. Don’t pretend like you have to protect her from me, I didn’t do anything to hurt her. Never. I didn’t even tell her that you were in love with me, even though you had your tongue down her throat 24/7!”

The arm around Y/N’s shoulder tightened and Nadia scoffed angrily. Y/N didn’t notice how her own hands turned into fists. Her stomach knotted and her legs felt like jelly, to weak to carry her out the door. Harry looked like he’d just been slapped. His eyes were wide and his skin was red. 

“How dare you.” This time he sounded quiet. 

Lucy shrugged. “It’s true.”

Then Harry surprised everyone. He laughed. “Not even close! I may have been completely wrong about who you were, but do not confuse what I felt for you as love. Now excuse me, but I’m done entertaining your childishness. I have a girlfriend to go home to and you surely got your fill of drama for the day. The only thing I want from you is to leave us the fuck alone from now on.”

At last, Harry stepped around Lucy, his intention to return to their table only to get his jacket and then leave. But he froze in place. Because sitting between his friends was Y/N, her expression completely unreadable but her arms full of his things. Without saying anything she got up. Harry’s heart dropped. 

Had she really just witnessed all of it? He wanted to cry. Now she surely would break up with him.

Y/N excited the booth, her eyes never leaving his. He could’ve fainted when her mouth twitched with a soft smile.

“Let’s go?” Her quiet request had him melt and Harry crossed the distance between them with fast strides. 

He could’ve rejoiced when her hand found his the moment he was close enough. She held onto his fingers tightly, before turning around and leading him out of the bar, away from his friends and Lucy, who couldn’t quite believe what she was witnessing. The Harry from last year would have never chosen to walk away. He would’ve never left without resolving the argument and being in her favour again. But this Harry was out the door before she could quite realize what had happened. He stepped outside, his hand still clasped tightly in Y/N’s who refused to let go of both his hand as well as his things. 

“Let’s walk, okay?” Y/N suggested, and even though it had again been worded as a question, she didn’t wait for his reply and instead pulled him along with her.

....

“I owe you a massive apology.”

Harry frowned and shook his head. “You don’t.”

They hadn’t said anything on their 25 minute walk back to Y/N’s flat, which was closer to the bar than his, but they refused to take as much as five steps without stopping to kiss each other. Y/N had been the first to do so, pulling him harshly to a stop before reaching up her hand to clasp the back of his neck. She tugged him down and kissed his lips, giving him no time to quite fathom what was happening. She let go equally as fast to peer up at him and ask if her actions were okay, but Harry didn’t answer and instead bent down and kissed her again. After a while they continued to walk, but stopped shortly after again to kiss some more. That was why the usually 15 minutes journey took them 25.

Now they sat opposite each other on the carpeted floor of Y/N’s living room. She’d dimmed the light a little, giving the room a warm and golden light while Harry had connected his phone to her speakers to quietly play her favourite mix of songs. His back rested against the couch while she sat on her knees in between his bent legs. His hands held the glass of wine she’d handed him, but he had yet to take a sip. Y/N rose to kneel, her hand resting gently on top of his knee. Any other day he might’ve dared to make a cheeky joke, but on this night he was quiet. 

The tenderness in her eyes had him feeling weak as she spoke: “I do. I’m so incredibly sorry, Harry.”

“So am I, Y/N, love. I-”

“No, please”, she whispered, stopping his rant before it could start, “you’ve apologized to me so many times already and I just wouldn’t let it go. I put us both through so much more hurt than necessary. I should have trusted you more and allowed you to help me fix us. Instead I made you worry, pushed you away. I’m just so sorry...” Y/N trailed off, hoping the sincerity in her words would convey just how sorry she was.

Harry smiled softly. “I just want us to be okay again. I miss you.”

Carefully, and with eyes never leaving his to gage his reaction, Y/N crawled closer. Harry’s heart sped up and his tummy warmed. She gently took the glass of wine from his hand and set it aside next to hers on the floor. Harry smirked at her and lowered his legs, allowing his favourite person in the world to climb into his lap. Y/N laughed softly and looped her arms around his neck while gently squeezing her legs around his hips.

Y/N’s fingers scratched the back of his neck. “I love you so much.”

“I love you.” 

Harry’s eyes closed momentarily at her words, happiness and relief flooding his body, chasing away all the fear he’d been tormented with for days. She nuzzled her nose against his and smiled. 

“I can’t believe you stood up to her like that, all for me”, she said, “But I should’ve believed in you and trusted your commitment to me without needing to see that first. I’m sorry. So sorry, Harry.”

“Hey”, Harry whispered, his lips pressing to her forehead, “No more apologizing. I feel like we’ve done enough of that for a lifetime.”

His hands rested heavily on her hips, moving in slow and soothing circles. Y/N leaned into his hold and nodded. “I agree.”

“Good. I love you.”

Her fingers at the back of his neck curled against his skin. “I love you, too, Harry. And I trust you. I promise to never hold something from the past against you again, ever.”

“I promise you that I’ve got no more secrets. And that I’ve blocked Lucy even before she came to the bar.”

Y/N sighed at his words and kissed his cheek. Even if Lucy wasn’t out of their lives and would come back another time, they knew it would be okay. Because never again would either of them have to face a battle alone.  Harry’s lips found hers, not at all hesitant for the first time in too long. He gently licked her bottom lip, catching Y/N’s laugh at the sensation and the bliss of being together again. Really together. 

“I love you”, she whispered, closing the distance quickly after speaking the words to kiss him again. 

“And I you”, he swore. 

Harry’s hand grasped her cheek softly, low enough to halfway hold her neck. Her tongue swiped across his own, her nose pressed to his. Their breathing grew heavier as their mouths continued to meet and while they would usually pull away by now to catch a breath, they would happily grow light headed from lack of air. Tonight, they did not want to part. Only when the music changed and the soft rhythm of one song was replaced by the all too familiar and rapid strums of guitars, did Y/N pull away. Her brows were raised, but humour shone in her eyes. 

“Change that song right now.”

Harry burst out laughing. He could catch one more kiss from her before reaching over to where his phone was, swiping his finger across the screen. Dolly Parton fell silent and Harry smirked up at his girlfriend, who couldn’t help but smile as well. He was aware that he might as well delete “Jolene” from her playlist right now. She surely wouldn’t listen to that song again anytime soon.

That’s it! I wrote the majority of this piece in one day, hungover and sleep deprived. I really wanted to deliver it to you today.  I hope you enjoyed this as much as I love it. Please let me know your thoughts. x

[mc-lukanette]

Omg I am loving your dreaded string of fate au this is such an interesting take! As always your writing and ideas absolutely amaze me You are such a wonderful writer! If it isnt too much of a bother could we get some more writing for dsaf? Either way I hope you are staying safe, taking care of yourself, and that overall life is doing you good.

Thanks, everyone! And sure, you can have more!!

—————

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Luka wasn't sure why Marinette had called him over that day. As far as he knew, she was busy with projects, though he wouldn't complain about spending some time with her.

Still, he found himself tensing and steeling himself up as he walked up the stairs to her living room. The hum of her sewing machine could be heard as he got closer, reminding him of clothes, which led to the thought of thread, which then brought his mind to the red string of fate wrapped around her neck. His last venture as Viperion seemed to have improved his sensing, so now he could see someone's red string even if the person on the other end wasn't nearby.

Needless to say, he wasn't looking forward to it with Marinette.

He closed the living room door behind him, then went up the staircase, knocking to let Marinette know he was there. The sound of the sewing machine stopped, and he heard her footsteps come closer followed by the slight creak of the trapdoor.

Marinette's face was revealed to him, offering him a smile, and Luka tried not to stare too much at the red string still tied around her neck. He swallowed, but smiled back at her, which was genuine enough even if he was uncomfortable.

"Come on up," she welcomed, holding the trapdoor up for him. He nodded and walked up the rest of the stairs, hearing the trapdoor close behind him as he took a look around the room. He felt Marinette's eyes on him, but she voiced her thoughts before he could wonder about them.

"You didn't bring your guitar?" she asked.

He glanced at his back, then at her, having no way of telling her the real reason why he'd chosen not to bring it. "Yeah, I didn't. Sorry, did you want me to play for you?"

"Oh! No, it's okay—I mean, of course I love it when you play for me so I always want—but I understand!" She thankfully dropped the subject there, turning away to return to her seat. "You can make yourself at home or help yourself to the fridge downstairs if you want anything!"

"Thanks," he said with a smile, heading over to her chaise lounge and taking a seat on it. Even with Marinette's chair turned away from him while she used her sewing machine, he could still see the red string dangling off the side, though it faded into full transparency before it hit the floor.

In truth, he'd left his guitar behind to force himself to use less music and more words. He didn't want to hide behind it to try and ease his situation or make himself more comfortable with everything. The situation the love of his life - and more importantly, his friend - had gotten into through no fault of her own was horrible, and no matter how uncomfortable he was, he couldn't have been any more uncomfortable than her being strangled by fate itself.

He watched her, waiting for a lull in her work to ask, "Did you need anything?"

"Hm?" She looked over her chair to meet his gaze.

"I'm happy to be here anyway, but I didn't know if you needed me for something," he clarified.

"Oh." She understood. Waving a hand dismissively, she assured, "No! I just invited you here to hang out—" She gestured to her sewing machine, her eyes a bit shifty. "—with me, while I was busy but totally happy and relaxed and everything!"

Her wording was inherently suspicious. His eyes scanned over the room, noting the projects littered about that seemed so plentiful. He supposed he hadn't exactly been subtle in his concern for her, but he wasn't sure of exactly what tipped her off or made her feel like she had to "prove" her happiness to him.

Besides, he knew better, and he knew her. Even with the smile she gave him, her brows were furrowed and twitching, a tiredness to her eyes that definitely didn't show what he would call "happiness."

He gave her a nod anyway, not wanting to call her out when he was still piecing things together himself, and he didn't want to confirm her worries if she was merely suspecting that he felt that way.

He leaned back while she returned to working, his hand on the cushion underneath him as he considered what to say. If Sass was right in his beliefs, then Luka indeed had the power to change Marinette's fate, though there wasn't any specific method of how. He thought back to all of their conversations, wondering what he would've done differently if he'd known beforehand and trying not to get bogged down by "what if"s or blame himself for it.

He stared silently at the back of Marinette's head, remembering the day at the ice rink when he saw the same thing. She'd been running away, or more specifically running towards Adrien after he'd encouraged her to do so. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but from what he gathered from interactions he'd either seen or heard about, it hadn't gone anywhere. Maybe it hadn't even gone well at all.

Maybe he'd made a mistake?

Luka's mind grew heavy with the thoughts, his body falling back to lay down on Marinette's chaise. He didn't regret doing what he felt was right, but now he wondered if his wording could've been better.

"You should probably go over and talk to him."

He hadn't exactly been thinking at the time - a lot had happened that day - but he noted that he could've asked her how she felt. He could've questioned her on if she really wanted to go after Adrien. It was possible she'd wanted to go home on the subway with him, but was convinced to chase Adrien when he brought it up. Luka just imagined Marinette seeing Adrien and Kagami together, the red string tightening around her neck and then loosening when she was presented with the prospect of going after him.

He felt like he was the one being strangled, just thinking about it.

"Luka?"

He looked up, surprised, seeing that Marinette had stopped sewing at some point and had come to sit on the chaise lounge with him. She hovered over him, concern written across her features and the red string taunting him with its mere existence. Luka knew by now that she was very worried about him, and trying to wriggle or half-lie out of it wasn't going to convince her. He'd just really thought that she would've been sewing for longer.

He also jolted up into a sitting position upon realizing that he probably looked like he was making himself too comfy on her chaise lounge. She didn't seem to mind at least.

"...Marinette," he said slowly, trying to put his thoughts in order. She leaned closer as a sign that she was giving him her attention, and he continued, "Do you know why I let you go that day?"

She tilted her head and he belatedly caught that he hadn't been specific, still too lost in his own head. He opened his mouth to clarify, but realization struck Marinette before he could speak, her brows raising in recognition.

"Oh!" she gasped. Though the conversation was sudden, she didn't seem to mind rolling with it. "Um, yeah, I wondered about that sometimes. I mean, I knew that you knew that I—but I didn't know that you—but if you didn't back then, I—"

"No, your song was definitely in my head, even back then," he confirmed casually, smiling as he added, "Since the day we met, remember?"

She blushed at the mention of his confession, but nodded. "Y-yeah." Then, seeming to rethink the moment with that information in mind, she asked, "...Why did you let me go then?"

His eyes flickered to the red string, then back up to her face. "I want you to be happy, Marinette, no matter who it's with. I thought that Adrien would do that, but I hope I didn't make you feel like you had to go after him."

She blinked, the thought having seemingly not even occurred to her. She averted her gaze, her eyes darting around at nothing in particular. "Is...is that why you were looking like that?"

He didn't answer, but that was answer enough for her.

"Oh, Luka," she murmured sympathetically. "I—well—" She shifted uncomfortably. "—I shouldn't be talking to you about this. It'd be wrong when my feelings are so messed up. You..."

He shook his head. "You can talk about Adrien if you want. I'd be happy if you relied on me more."

He meant it. Even regardless of his fate sensing, he wanted Marinette to feel comfortable talking to him, even if it was about her love problems. He didn't want their relationship to be changed because of his feelings for her.

"Even more?" She raised a brow, the concept confusing her, but she didn't question him further. She hesitated, rubbing her cheek in thought, then dropped her hands to her lap and twiddled her fingers. "I-I don't know; about Adrien, I mean. I—" She sighed, giving a halfhearted shrug. "—he's not interested in me. He likes Kagami, but the girls kept telling me that I shouldn't give up on him because of how hard I tried." Then, stiffening, she waved her hands and rapidly assured, "N-not anything against your sister, of course! That's just what happened—and—" She huffed in frustration. "—it feels like I hit a wall, and I'm not going anywhere. Adrien doesn't notice me and I can't talk to him and... I'm tired."

Luka nodded silently to let her know that he was both listening and sympathetic towards her plight, also not wanting to interrupt her.

"Of course I tried hard, but Adrien and Kagami seem like they're good for each other and they should be happy together. Just, whenever I think of giving up or not trying, I..." She raised a hand to her neck in a gesture that he immediately understood. "It hurts, and Alya's always trying to get me together with Adrien no matter what I say. Maybe she knows best and maybe she's right, and that's why I always end up in crazy situations with him. Plus, everyone..." She looked away, her voice not having the enthusiasm one would imagine her next words would go with. "...everyone keeps saying we're made for each other."

Luka clutched his leg to ground himself while struggling to keep a straight face. He'd certainly never heard that one before, but it stung like his neck did just thinking about it. His lips pressed together, trying to contain his emotions, but he couldn't help blurting out, "No one's made for anyone."

She blinked at him, shocked, but he didn't take it back or apologize for saying it so suddenly. He recognized the fact that he was talking about destined love being nonexistent when he himself knew that "fate" was very much a real thing, but his actual opinion on the subject hadn't changed. As far as he was concerned, fate's "opinion" was about as valid as anyone else's when it came to someone else's relationship.

"No matter what Alya, or even Rose, say about you and who you love, Marinette, all that matters is you and who you want to play for. You deserve someone who makes you happy." He paused, lamenting the reality that she really hadn't gotten to think about it. "Does Adrien make you happy?"

He saw the string tighten, Marinette opening her mouth to respond before she seemed to stop herself. He felt like apologizing, but knew she wouldn't understand even if he did. She frowned, staring down at her lap and appearing conflicted with herself, so he reached out and carefully hovered his hand over her shoulder in a show of comfort. She glanced at his hand, noticing the gesture, but didn't immediately give him any sort of permission.

Then, to his surprise, she brought her hand up, gently grabbing his wrist and lowering it so his hand was placed perfectly on her shoulder. She didn't even let go, keeping his wrist held like she needed his hand there.

"...Luka," she whispered, her voice shaking, "I—no, you'll laugh, or think I'm crazy."

He squeezed her shoulder, not hesitating to insist, "I won't. I'm here for you, Marinette."

She finally met his gaze, and he saw a vulnerability there that wasn't there before. She was nervous, whether of his potential reaction to whatever she had to say, or something else entirely.

She took a breath, her fingers tightening around his wrist as she composed herself. The silence stretched, though he could tell that she was steeling herself up.

"The—the Adrien pictures," she began, tossing a pointed look to the wall where they were. "I don't remember putting them there."

He kept his expression schooled, not wanting her to overthink his reactions. Careful and quiet, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"I-I mean, obviously I started putting them there, back when I first met him," she admitted, "but I took them down. They'd been down for a while."

Luka could confirm that. He'd been to Marinette's room before when she'd been sending in their Kitty Section audition to Bob Roth, and the pictures weren’t there.

She continued, "I-it hurt when I did it, but I did, and I threw most of them away. But then—when I wake up sometimes, they're back, and I don't remember putting them up. I-I mean, maybe I did but I just don't remember it? I stay up late sometimes and I won't remember falling asleep, so it might be like that, you know? I-I know you're not exactly like me and I'm sure you don't sleepily put pictures on your wall but..."

He smiled as best as he could, even though he was hurting inside. "I know as well as you do that creativity doesn't have a schedule."

She managed a smile in return, but it returned to a frown as she dropped her gaze to her lap. "A-anyway, I can forget things, but it's never been that bad, and sometimes they'll be gone for a while but then they'll be back a few days later. There's just—there's no other explanation, so it has to be me, right? I-I don't know if it's a sign or what, but if it is then I don't know what it's telling me? Because whenever there are a lot of pictures—" She made a vague gesture with a wave of her free hand, cringing as she added, "—something humiliating always happens. That usually gets me to take them down again, but then... well, you know." She rubbed the back of her neck with a hand, blushing in embarrassment. "Sorry, I probably sound crazy. I-I swear, I'm not trying to—"

"I believe you."

Her mouth halted mid-sentence, hanging open as she stared at him.

"I believe you, Marinette," he repeated, giving her shoulder another squeeze. He didn't need any further detail to know what happened, as there was no way Marinette would take down those pictures and then put them back up the next day, or even the day before that. It didn't make any sense, and while he hadn't seen the wisps of fate move things or brush them aside, he had seen them trip Marinette, meaning they had some level of physical control. It explained it all: the convenience of the pictures appearing and disappearing, as well as the amount of them there'd be.

"T-thank you," she murmured, her lips briefly moving to form extra words but nothing coming out. She looked shy, possibly from admitting something she hadn't told anyone before, but she at least wasn't so nervous anymore.

"You don't need to thank me," he assured, "but you're welcome. Just know that you can tell me anything."

She ducked her head, peeking up at him to ask, "How much do you want to know?"

"Whatever you're comfortable sharing with me," he replied.

"Everything?" She'd said it quickly, as if she'd blurted it out, but she didn't panic afterward. She merely looked at him, hope in her eyes.

He nodded without hesitation, wanting her to be certain that he meant it. She searched his gaze for a few more seconds, one last shred of doubt remaining, but he knew he'd convinced her when her body relaxed and she smiled at him with her whole heart. Her grip on his wrist lightened, her hand sliding off and back down to her side. He pulled back as well, his heart a mixture of emotions but mostly just happy to see her happy.

"I..." She turned away, facing her trapdoor. "I'm going to get some snacks first."

He watched as she pushed herself up, then stood as well to follow after her. "Do you want any help carrying them?"

She looked at him, confused. "You don't have to."

Instead of responding with the obvious - that he wanted to - he simply replied, "You're not alone anymore, Marinette."

He didn't need to elaborate for her to understand. He let himself get lost in the warmth of her gaze, hoping that he might see it more one day if he could ever get her string removed, even if her warm gaze would end up being for someone else.

[whaleofatjme1920]

On the Coffee Table - It’s Not Entirely Comfortable (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: NSFT, creampie, rough sex, degrading, slight praise, “daddy”, “good girl”, marking - like, biting and love bites, jealous/possessive sex, squirting, slight blood? Nothing major though, also there’s three tongues in here and once again, a knotted dick/knotting. If you are a minor, DNI]

[AN: I started this at 2 am trying to finish it after downing some melatonin and only finished it now. Please tell me if I translated wrong!! I unfortunately only speak English. Doja Cat - Freak. This is 5.3K words.]

Part 1 Part 2

Jack trusts you so, so much. That much is apparent. It’s been about a month or so since he took you away from your old life, and you’ve never been happier. In fact, it’s been nothing but good things!

Why do you say that? Jack is so sweet, caring, and attentive. He knows what you want when you need it, and still, you’ve only ever kissed him.

In a sense, it’s maddening, but at the same time, it’s kinda cute. You like that he’s willing to go at your pace, and you like that he’s so mindful of how you’re feeling at any and every moment. You’re just really, really happy he chose you.

When that man from the grocery store came up to you, trying to speak to you… Well, you thought he just wanted some help! Honest to goodness, you had no idea what he was trying to do. Which is quite odd, considering you’ve been considered a goddess in your own right figuring those tells from miles and continents away.

You stood at the cart, waiting patiently for Jack to come back from the other side of the grocery story because something you’d wanted slipped his mind. So, you familiarized yourself with the fresh produce instead, looking over the pretty colors before that cute little shower system kicked on paired with the little rain noises as they gave water to the vegetables.

You were honestly minding your own business when some man came up to you, a shy smile on his face.

“Uh, hello, ma’am?” He started, a pack of berries in his hand.

You whip around and turn your attention to him, putting down the leaks as you did so. “Yes?”

“Do you know how this is pronounced?” He said. “Is it… A-kai..?”

You motioned for him to come a little closer - close enough for your shoulders to brush up against each other. Your eyes scanned over the words. “Oh! It’s açaí ,” you giggled as you read over the words.

“A-sigh?”

“Açaí,” you repeated with a small smile. “See? Say it with me,” you said, as you watched the man’s face light up.

“Oh, okay, açaí,” he finally said correctly, that same smile bloomed on his face. “Y’know, you’re really good at this,” he smiled.

You lit up. “Thank you!” Beaming, you gave him your full attention.

“It’s nothing, did you take Spanish?” He inquired, still maintaining his close distance to you.

You nodded vigorously. “I took four years of Spanish in high school. Señora Chika always said I had an ear for language,” you said in a semi-serious tone, index finger tapping your right ear lobe in a way that made that man blush.

The man smiled back. “That’s so nice to hear,” he continued, building off your words. “Look, I’m gonna be going to Mexico pretty soon, it’s a work thing,” he brushed off, “and I wanna know if I could get some of your tutoring services?”

You blinked a few times. “Me?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “I think you would make an excellent-”

“An excellent what?” Jack’s clipped voice cut through, his glamour’s eyes glaring deeply at the man who dares breathing in the same air as you. When he saw the man pause, he waved his hand a bit as if to signal him to hurry it up. “She’d make an excellent what?”

“It’s… It’s nothing,” he mumbled before brushing past you and Jack. “Didn’t know she had a boyfriend, sorry,” he harshly apologized as he disappeared back into the aisles.

You tilted your head as you looked up at Jack. “What about his Spanish lessons?”

Jack sighed in deeply and took hold of the cart, tossing the thing you asked for back into it. “Él no quería clases de español.”

Your eyes widened in response. “Oh.”

Jack was silent to you the entire car ride back home, and you wondered if it was because that man came up to talk with you. You frowned in the seat. You honestly didn’t know that man’s intentions! You didn’t mean to push Jack’s buttons like that, in fact, you didn’t even know that man was flirting with you! He came up asking about pronunciation, not a number!

You pouted all the way until you made it back home, helping him bring the groceries back in as you did so.

“Put this one in the freezer,” he said as that frown continually pulled his lips downwards.

When you opened the fridge, he tsked his tongue.

“The freezer.”

You relented and did as he asked. Once it was in, he nodded at the now empty bags and began balling them up to throw away, maybe reuse and put in the bag drawer before leaving you to yourself.

And that’s how the rest of the day went. Jack looked like such a stick in the mud and you couldn’t stand it. What was eating him up so much?

You decide to confront him after dinner when the two of you are sitting on the sofa, watching some stupid program you don’t really care for. You just know you like being near him.

“Why are you being such a jerk?” You ask out of the blue as the program moves to commercials.

Jack visibly tenses before he relaxes again, raising his eyebrow. “Excuse me?” He deadpans, almost surprised you have the gall to speak to him in such a manner.

You huff and cross your arms over your chest as you turn fully towards him, brows furrowed and face cross with frustration over his behavior. “You heard me the first time,” you reply. When you watch his expression turn from vague amusement to slight anger, you backtrack. “I just - why are you so mad at me?” You finally ask, your eyes dark and stormy. “What on the gods green earth could I have done to offend you so greatly?” You huff, arms still crossed and face determined.

Jack lowers his eyebrows and reclines back, trying to give you the illusion that he’s not interested in your challenge. “You wanna rethink that tone?” He hums. “You’re messing with fire.” There’s a slight tease that laces his words and you catch it ever so slightly.

You’ve heard that tease before. “Maybe… Maybe I wanna feel the heat,” you murmur, voice dipping to something low and sultry. You uncross your arms on your chest and move your hands over to his lap.

Jack watches you carefully as he feels your index and middle fingers walk up his thigh and to his chest. “You’re gonna get burned.” His voice is so much lower and more alluring than whatever he was showing to you before.

Your eyes sparkle as your fingertips walk up to the neck of his hoodie, hooking in it and pulling slightly as if you’re asking him to take it off. “Maybe you’ll just have to kiss it better,” you mumble, bringing your lips closer and closer to his.

Jack doesn’t move and instead, allows you to lean in further and further. He’s got a budding smirk on his lips as you draw closer, his dark sockets watching you with intrigue.

You finally press your lips to his, eyes closing as he invites you further and further into him. You smile through the kiss, and giggle when his hands hook around your waist and sling you onto his lap, your thighs now resting on either side of him, bottom planted firmly on his thighs.

“You’ve been such a bad girl,” he mutters through the kiss as you move more fervently against his lips, his clawed fingertips now digging into the curve of your ass.

“Have I?” You breathe against him before smashing your lips back onto his, your heart rate already picking up and drumming wildly in your chest. You feel it’s harder and harder to breathe as he practically crushes you against his chest.

“You have,” he reaffirms, briefly disconnecting from you. “And that means you’re going to get punished for it.”

You practically squeal in delight as Jack’s sharp claws dig into the hem of your shirt and travel upwards, cutting through the fabric like it’s nothing. The torn fabric drops from beside you like it’s weightless, leaving you just shy of being exposed.

“You want me to break this too?” He hums, his fingers lightly feathering up your back to the clasp on your bra.

“I don’t care,” you giggle, leaning into his warmth.

Jack hums again and decides on unclipping it, briefly cooing in amusement as you lean back on his lap and slip the thing off before tossing it over your shoulder. He whistles deeply as he gazes at your chest. One of his hands plants back down on the curve of your ass before sliding back up to cup your chest, his large hands practically engulfing your breasts in their entirety.

You giggle once more and move your hand upwards to rest on top of his, gripping him gently and pushing him just a bit harder as he fondles you. You feel a rush of excitement every time his claws just barely ghost your nipples.

“No,” he suddenly says, his hand leaving your bottom half to pry you off of him. “You don’t have a right to touch me tonight,” he states as if it was nothing. He gestures to your hands. “Keep them on your thighs or on the back of the couch,” he commands, watching as you pout and settle on gripping your thighs. He smiles devilishly at you. “Good girl.”

You break your pout for a moment before he squeezes your breast, making heat rise to your face. The warmth that he gives off is almost intoxicating. You’re almost lost in it when he suddenly leaves, picking you up and off his lap, almost roughly placing you onto the far end of the sofa. You’re looking up at him with wide eyes as his fingers hook into the waistband of your pants.

He hesitates.

“Well?” You egg him on. “What are you waiting for?”

And just like that, Jack is tearing your pants off, his claws slicing through the material like it’s nothing. You watch as he towers over you, snaking in between your legs as he pries them open. Jack’s face goes dark as he cuts off your underwear, his clawed fingers tracing your already glistening cunt.

Your mind goes blank when you catch him smirking and three long, thick, inky black tongues slip from his mouth, twirling and twisting against each other like snakes as they creep over each other, dripping with clear saliva. The tip of the longest tongue - which you recognize as the middle one - slinks forward and broadly licks you from top to bottom, making your thighs tense on instinct. Then, it takes a few more teasing licks, mostly building you up, wondering to see if you’re getting impatient, testy.

“EJ-” you barely wisp out before the middle tongue finally slips in past your already puffy lips, slowly, dragging against your walls lightly moving back and forth as it slips deeper and deeper in.

You let out a ragged moan at the sudden contact, thighs tensing once more. This action garners Jack’s attention and his arms maneuver under your slightly propped up legs, his claws digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. It’s not hard enough to draw blood, but it’s enough to remind you of your place. You bite your lip in pure ecstasy as his middle tongue wiggles inside of you, thrusting light as it does so, his second tongue lathering your lips up in his saliva and applying delicious pressure to you. His third tongue begins to prod your pearl, and when it finally touches, you hiss in the contact.

You honestly didn’t realize just how warm he was. It gently circles your clit before taking slow, languid kitten licks, working you up to little circles that render his hands free to keep you from bucking him. Your wandering hands, which you had been gripping in vain on the cushions of the couch for support, feel useless under your iron grip. On instinct, your hands fly down to Jack’s head, wanting to push his face in deeper but he pauses.

His middle tongue stops twisting and curling inside of you, it’s no longer hitting that spot that has you seeing stars and his other tongues have retracted entirely.

You pout. “You’re such a meanie!” You exclaim as you throw your head back down onto the arm of the couch.

He shoots you a look as his tongue begins to retreat from your pussy, almost as if he’s asking if you want to rethink that statement.

You feel a heat rush to your cheeks.

He gives you that look again, eyebrows lowering and lids halving. There’s a faint smirk on his lips as he seemingly gestures to your hands, telling you to keep them to yourself. Jack is telling you that you aren’t allowed to touch him right now.

You glance away before he hums against your aching cunt, his tongue retreating from you just a little faster. You relent. “I’m sorry,” you mumble.

His brow raises. ‘What else?’

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you finally say before cutting yourself off with a loud gasp as Jack’s tongues are once again on the assault. His middle tongue is fucking your pussy with a heat you didn’t know possible, and you can barely even think as he rubs and sucks at your clit with his others. You feel his lips lightly graze you every now and then, his shark-like teeth coming dangerously close to nipping you but you don’t care.

In frustration, you ball your hands in fists and throw your arms over your head, struggling in vain to not touch yourself or Jack as he works you closer and closer to the edge. Your pussy feels like an ocean by how hard he’s working you, and the sounds that come out of your mouth are just downright sinful.

Jack’s thumb rubs small circles on your thighs, almost as if he’s complimenting you for not touching him before he works you closer and closer to the edge.

You clamp your eyes shut and arch your back as he removes his second tongue from your lips and wiggles it in with a powerful thrust from his middle tongue, the two intertwining and combining, bringing a new sensation to your overloaded cunt. Sweat beads all over your body as he thrusts a bit harder and flexes, the sudden thickness making your stomach and heart flutter.

His third tongue remains playing with your clit, circling and licking.

You can practically hear Jack goading you to cum.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine, your thighs threatneing to clamp shut but Jack’s strong grasp holding you wide open and accessible for him. “Fuck!” You cry out again, back arching once more, hands balling so hard into fists you feel like they’re going to fall off and a raw cry of ecstasy pouring from your lips as you release onto his face, coating his tongues and face in nectar.

The white hot pleasure continues to bead and wash over you as his tongues begin to clean you up, the middle still refusing to leave your creamy cunt. It makes you tense, and that gets a soft chuckle rumbling from the back of Jack’s throat.

After he was sure he slurps you clean, Jack slowly, almost teasingly, removes his tongues from your cunt and then licks his lips like the bastard he is. He looks so smug. “That wasn’t very fast,” he notes as his lips begin to press kisses to your slightly bruised thighs, his teeth gracing your flesh every now and then.

You pout as you begin to sit up on shaky legs, body feeling like jell-o. “Give me a chance,” you challenge.

Jack raises a brow before dropping it, his face leaving from in between your legs and drawing closer and closer to yours. “I don’t think whores should get chances.”

You immediately bristle and smash your lips to his, hands angrily grabbing at his still clothed form, almost goading him to take it off. You hide your squeal of delight as he kisses you back just as fervently, his large hand groping aimlessly for yours.

Jack grabs your wrist and brings you down to his pants, allowing you to rub the large bulge that’s grown as he ate your pussy.

You stifle your giggle and unzip hi, after you worked on his belt - it’s not like this is the first time you’ve done something like this - but when you reach in and feel for him, your eyebrows raise slightly.

Jack feels you pause and laughs, effectively breaking the kiss. He pulls away from you to look at your face. “Go ahead. Take it out.”

Gently, your hands peel back his pants as he makes minimal movement to help get them off and easier for you and you are greeted to an absolute monster. He’s not even rock solid but you can tell he’s huge. Interestingly enough, there’s also piercings in it - you recognize the ones on the length of his cock as ladder piercings followed by a ring at his tip. Your face rushes with heat when you see he’s got a thick knot as well, already waiting to fill you up.

“Not what you’re used to?” He teases, his legs open as he rests back on the couch, waiting for you to touch him.

Your fingers gently trail and crawl up his muscular thighs before you wrap your fingers around him, taking note of the texture on his cock. It wasn’t anything like a human man’s, and that made you excited. That same coiling white hot heat began to pool in your lower stomach as you slowly began to pump him.

“Spit on it,” he states in passing.

“Yes, daddy,” you reply, lips pursing as you thickly spit onto his head. Your thumb sneaks it over his dark dock that fades almost beautifully into his actual skin tone - you take notice of the silver specks that look like stars - and begin to grip him just a bit harder. You watch Jack’s expressions for anything of approval or disdain when you realize he’s not going to give you any satisfaction. You’ve been a bad girl. Of course he’s going to make you work for it.

“Use your mouth,” he then cuts through. “If you even think about using your hands, I’ll bite you.” He’s only half teasing. He absolutely would draw blood on your pretty flesh. His large, clawed hand that was gripping the back of the couch slinks upwards and over and buries itself onto your scalp, both soothingly and roughly guiding you down to his precum covered tip.

You open your mouth as wide as you can, mouth salivating as you finally taste him and the metal that decorates him. You’re so careful as he begins to pump your head on him, tongue flatly covering him in your spit as the head of his cock gets closer and closer to hitting the back of your throat. You struggle to breathe through your nose as he pushes you down harder and harder.

Jack hums out deeply as you suck him, your tongue swirling when he finally brings you back up. He switches hands eventually, the hand that had been holding your head now with its fingers trailing down your bare back as he cups the curve of your ass.

‘What on earth is he doing-!’ You moan against him as he twitches in the back of your throat as his ring finger and thumb slowly pull your lips apart just enough for his index and middle finger to slip in, filling you - but not to your limit. You squeeze your legs together and feel slick once again leak down your thighs as he finger fucks you while you still struggle to breathe on his cock as he pushes you down rougher and rougher.

In a way, you become his toy as his fingers make quick work of you. Your mind is lost in a lustful haze and you don’t even recognize he’s practically pulled your mouth off his cock as his fingers thrust into you harder, his nails so close to cutting you but instead, curling upwards in the best ways. Your face rests pathetically on his lap, your ass in the air as he trades his ring finger for his pinky and slips it into your needy, aching cunt.

“What a slut,” he whistles as you breathe raggedly against him. “I haven’t even fucked you properly and you’re rocking against me like a bitch in heat,” he cruelly observes, stifling his amusement at how you buck back in tandem with him. “Would you have treated that man in the store like this?” He asks, his voice dipping down to something sinister.

Your mind peers through the fog and you weakly shake your head as his fingers continue to fuck you. “Of course not,” you manage to squeak out. “N-Never, no one could make me feel like this,” you breathe out before squeezing your eyes shut, clamming your legs even tighter together to attempt to give your swollen clit some pleasure.

“You’re lying,” he states in a sing-song tone, his fingers roughly thrusting into you, curling upwards and rubbing you intimately, making you see stars. “Liars don’t deserve to cum,” and just like that, he’s pulling his long, thick fingers from your greedy cunt.

You gasp and look up at him almost wantonly and certainly pathetically. “EJ,” you begin before his other hand presses to your lips.

“You know better than to call me that,” he chides.

You swallow your pride, gradually composing yourself to a sitting position. “Daddy.”

“Better.”

“Please,” you start, moving off the cough and onto the coffee table. You turn around, planting your hands on the glass, poking your ass up and wiggling it side to side in an attempt to entice him, “please. I’ve been… I’ve been bad.”

“Just bad?” He hums as he stands up, palming his pierced cock for a moment or so, hissing as his precum weeps from the tip and onto the cheeks of your ass.

“I’ve been really, really bad,” you continue, still wiggling your hips and ass, swaying ever so slightly.

His tip just barely ghosts your entrance, hand gripping your hip. You feel his claws on your stomach, just barely poking the skin, ready to draw blood. “I think you’ve forgotten who you belong to,” he murmurs. “Why don’t I show you?”

You glance back over your shoulder and look at him with absolute desire and lust, nodding fervently. “Yes, daddy, please.” Your breath hitches as Jack’s hips sharply dart forward, filling you and stretching you almost painfully as his sheer size envelopes your form entirely. He’s still inching inside of you - you haven’t even reached his knot yet - and your arms almost wobble down on the coffee table as he piles you into it.

“Silly girl,” he tuts as he loosely backs up his hips and shallowly thrusts in again, making you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut in both pain and pleasure. “You’re always gonna be mine.”

You’re not even able to challenge the notion because he begins to absolutely ravage you. You feel like you’re stretched almost impossibly wide as he fucks you against the table, his breath picking up and becoming something more feral as you become a toy, an object, as he uses you. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as you rest your cheek against the cool glass, chest pushing against it and leaving marks as you grip as tightly as you can onto the opposite edge of the table.

Jack begins to grit things in a language you don’t understand under his breath as he thrusts into you harder, his veiny cock pulsing inside of you as he drives in deeper and deeper. His balls slap against your clit, bringing you that much closer as he ruthlessly uses you. Judging by his tone, you assume he’s insulting you. “Fucking whore,” he seethes as he pulls you harder and harder against him, muscles tensing and all cares of breaking the coffee table being thrown out the window.

The tall, muscular, grey skinned man leans over you and begins to harshly breathe in your ear, his teeth nipping at the shell as he rolls his hips into you harder. The sound makes thick, meaty claps, almost sending you flying forward from the sheer force but him holding you back anchored you. “I can’t believe you’d even look at another man this way,” he continues in that same language, his lips and teeth leaving your ear and to your neck, nibbling before finally roughly biting down and sucking. It’s going to bruise. When he detaches, he harshly whispers to you again. “Wanton and waiting for someone else other than me, what the fuck were you thinking?” Jack harshly questions before biting yet again into your neck, his claws drawing the faintest of blood that drips like rubies down your skin.

You cry out in that same pleasurable and painful ecstasy and weakly meet his thrusts, barely able to think through the sheer force of him. “I-I-I’m sorry!” You cry out as one of his hands reaches your clit, fingering it as his balls continue to slap against it, making your legs wobble. “I’m sorry for making you mad, daddy!” You exclaim, finding yourself cut off with how his hand leaves your clit and snakes back up to your mouth. His fingers are coated in your juices and his - and he forces your mouth open.

“Lick them clean,” he harshly demands, hips still smacking against you. His length twitches every now and then, and the drag of his piercings feels so delicious against your stretched out walls.

You mumble against his fingers and lick your tongue on him, careful not to cut yourself on his talons as he shoves them deeper into your mouth. You suck on them, closing your eyes once more and feel tears well within them simply from the overload of pleasure.

When Jack pops his now clean fingers out of your mouth, he lifts you like you’re weightless and pops you off his cock, thoroughly amused at your bewildered expression before he plops you back down onto the coffee table, your legs still spread wide open from him, cunt still aching and hungry, absolutely needy for him to fill you to your brim.

The glass feels cool against your back as you realize he’s flipped you over. Your chest doesn’t feel as cramped anymore, so that’s nice. You’re barely afforded a moment with your thoughts before Jack is planting his hands on your left side and the other cups under your ass, lifting you slightly before pushing his thick, veiny cock back inside of you.

And you see it.

He’s building your lower abdomen out just from hsi size alone, and the thought, the image, the feeling, it makes you moan out again. Heat spreads over your entire body as Jack roughly works you up again, his cock bulging your stomach and weeping precum as you tighten your legs around his waist in vain, attempting to grasp onto something - anything to anchor yourself.

Your heart rate is flying, racing and your breaths are just picking up. You almost forget to breathe when Jack is back at the crook of your neck, biting, nipping and sucking, his tongues traveling over your slightly salty sweet skin like salt water taffy as you come closer and closer to breaking.

“Come on,” he hisses, hips roughly thrusting into you, making you gasp each time. “Squirt for me. Make daddy happy,” he continues, accenting each word with an even harsher thrust, stealing your breath each time. He grabs your wrist when you attempt to play with your clit and chides you with a snarl before finally rubbing you in a way that brings you over your edge.

You scream as his knot finally pushes past your bruised, puffy lips and practically becomes swallowed whole. The pain turns to pleasure as tears well in your eyes as you release all over him, sweet fluid splashing all over you and Jack as you vice grip his knot.

Jack pants out as he ruts into you as you squirt all over him, his knot still pushing into you with such hunger, filling you so much further than what you think is possible before he curls against you, his large form wrapping around you as he roars, releasing thick, creamy, white hot liquid into your needy cunt.

“Fuck, Reader, fuck,” he sneers like a mantra, hips weakly bucking against you, still very much connected by the knot as he continues to unload oceans of the warm, creamy liquid into you.

You feel tears roll down your cheeks from the sheer pleasure as you wrap your legs around his waist even tighter, nails raking against his back as you mumble his name and take in his deep scent. He’s otherworldly. You don’t even mind that Jack is still lighty rutting into you as he continues releasing, teeth bared and eyes shut in the pleasure your body is giving him.

When he finally empties himself fully into you, he breathes out deeply and rests his forehead against you, gently, tenderly, sweetly.

You feel hot, much too hot, and the only thing keeping you cool is the glass of the coffee table. You attempt to move off of him, to somewhere more comfortable when you wince in pain. “Ow! What is that?” You grumble as your eyes glance down to where Jack still remains buried inside of you.

He sighs out and follows your gaze. “Knot,” he states simply. “It’s gonna hurt-” He’s barely able to even get the words out as you’re already working on getting him out of you, wincing and hissing at the pain as you remove yourself off the thick, bulbous knot. Tears once again well in your eyes from the overwhelming stimulation, and Jack’s shaking his head as if to say ‘what did you expect?’

“I swear,” he mumbles as his thumbs gently wipe away your tears, not even noticing how his creamy cum pools down your legs and practically creates a waterfall onto the coffee table and onto his once immaculately clean floor. “Don’t force it out next time,” he grumbles as he slowly stands up, stretching slightly.

“Sorry,” you apologize, mind still hazy from the pleasure.

Jack relents and picks you up like you weigh nothing, already subtly checking if you’re hurt in any way from him and the rough coffee table. “It’s whatever,” he hums, holding you in his arms, simultaneously pleased and displeased with how harsh he was. But at least you smell like him. “C’mon, let me take care of this,” he offers, gesturing to the scrapes, cuts and bruises that are blooming on your body due to him.

Not wanting to say anything, you sleepily smile up at him and burrow into his chest. You look up at him.

“What?”

You yawn slightly. “Was I a good girl?” You ask playfully, resting your head on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat pick up.

Jack chuckles quietly. “You sure were.”

“Did I make daddy happy?”

Jack purrs slightly as your fingers brush against his cheek. “Without a shadow of a doubt.”

[youbloodymadgenius]

Crashing Waves (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my entry to @waiting4inspiration's 9K Multiple of 3 Challenge 🌺 Congrats again, love!

Prompt 16: Something red / High heels / A quiet place

@geekandbooknerd - thank you, darling, you're a wonderful beta 💖

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Bringing Ivar back to the place - Ragnar's hunting cabin - of his greatest failure seems pretty bold. Yet you are sure of your plan. It will work. And you will prove him wrong.

Warnings: smut; use of a cock ring; mention of Ivar's insecurities; no real plot.

Words: 2881

Sitting on the bed, Ivar swallows loudly, digging fingernails into his palms. "Why did you bring me here, Y/N? What are we doing here?" You watch the muscles in his jaw clenching and flexing as he grinds his teeth. You know he's trying very hard to control his anger.

Taking two steps towards him, you cup his face, "This is a quiet place," lean forward and your mouth grazes his cheek and then his earlobe. "You know how much I love quiet places."

"You love quiet places? Are you fucking kidding me??" Seething with anger, he gives you dagger eyes. "Of all the possible places, you really had to choose this one? This fucking cabin? You fucking know this is not just any quiet place."

Kneeling down in front of him – a task nearly impossible with your six-inch stilettos – you place your hands on the bed, on either side of his hips. Reaching up, your thumb strokes his cheekbone, your face peering up at him. "I know, my love."

Of course, you do.

You know exactly what Ragnar's hunting cabin means to your lover. You know what happened here – or rather what didn't. You know about his failure. You know everything because one night he told you, between sobs, and after way too much Akvavit. And that's exactly why you're here tonight.

"Why, then?" His knuckles white, he asks through clenched teeth, averting his gaze.

"Because," things are clear to you, so you don't hesitate, "it's time to start making some new memories, my love." Your right hand grabs his left and you intertwine his fingers with yours. "And because it's time I prove you wrong."

Ivar ducks his head down, unable to look you in the eye. His voice barely a whisper, you realize he is shaking. "I… You know I…", he releases a shuddering breath, his gaze finding yours, "I can't…"

The sharpness in his voice is gone, replaced by… despair… And the way he looks at you… Gods… His wide eyes are filled with fear, confusion and… tears? It's almost enough to persuade you to back off.

But no. You won't.

"I don't know that, my love. I only know what you told me." Carefully placing your hands on his thighs, you tilt your head to the side. There are a thousand questions in his eyes and he seems hurt, and self-conscious. Oh no, you won't allow him to go down this path. "Listen to me. I was not lying, Ivar – I never lied to you – with your dexterous fingers and your skilled tongue, you can pleasure a woman. You pleasure me each and every time, never doubt that. But I want more. For you more than for me."

"But… what…" He wraps his fingers around your right hand, squeezing it so tight it hurts, but you don't complain, not when you can almost feel the panic coursing through his veins, so you just keep looking at him, with a smile on your lips and love in your eyes. "What if it doesn't work? What if… I can't get it up long enough like… like with… with Margrethe…"

"Oh Ivar, stop dwelling on this old story, will you? You were so young, my love, still a boy. And she was just a girl. A girl you didn't have feelings for. A girl who didn't love you." Gently grabbing his chin, you bring his mouth to yours for a soft, light kiss. "I am in love with you, Ivar. And I know you're in love with me. That, my love, makes a huge difference. Plus, you're no longer a boy… And, as for myself, tell me the truth, my love… " You stand up and then slowly take off your long, black trench coat. "Do I look like a girl?"

The second Ivar sees what's under the coat, his mouth falls open. Gaping and gawking, he's literally gobsmacked. If you're being honest, that's what you were aiming for when you chose that red dress. Red is his favorite color and well, the dress fits like a glove and shows off every curve you've got. As he stares at you, his eyes wide open, you're pleasantly surprised to see more lust than fear, or worry, or anger in his gaze.

"So, do I look like a girl?" You ask once again, flashing him a cheeky smile while making your way between his thighs. Your hand grazes his crotch, but Ivar doesn't seem to notice, too entranced – mesmerized – by the sight in front of him.

"No," Ivar shakes his head and clears his throat but his voice is still hoarse when he speaks again, "No, you look like a fucking goddess."

"Then, you should help your goddess with the zipper." You pull away just enough to turn around and the next moment Ivar's hands are on you, roaming over your waist and back. He slowly unzips your dress, then slides his hands over your shoulders and down your arms to remove it. "Fuck!" Ivar gasps as your dress falls to the floor, and you can hear him swallowing. "You're… you're naked."

"That I am." You turn your head just in time to see him licking his lips. His nostrils are flaring, his pupils are dilated, and the bulge in his pant is unmistakable. Good.

"Take off your clothes and then scoot over and lie down." You order, stepping out of your dress but keeping your stilettos on. Ivar barely nods, but starts unbuttoning his shirt.

Crossing the room completely naked, you can feel his intense gaze on you and as you bend down to pick up your purse, your butt on display, he makes a sound, a cross between a whimper and a groan. "Gods, woman!" He whines when you slowly come back, swaying your hips, your hand grazing his feet before putting your purse right next to him and dimming the lights.

Ivar, a white sheet covering his lower body, watches your every move, and even if his arousal is obvious, you can tell he's still scared, or at the very least, a little wary.

Kicking your shoes off, you climb onto the bed and straddle him. Careful not to put your full weight on him, you lean forward, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"Y/N, what are you planning to do?" His strained voice betrays his sudden anxiety.

Smiling, you brush his cheek. "Do you trust me, Ivar?"

"It's not about trust but about what I can or–" He starts but you stop him, a finger on his mouth. You then flatten your palms on his chest and soon your hands are venturing down. You explore the lines of his torso, tracing left and right across the ridges in his abdomen. Gods, you love his body! When your fingers come across the thin trail of hair leading lower, you tilt your head, your hand slipping under the sheet. Ivar's breath hitches in his throat as your hand meets his now half-hard cock.

"Answer me, Ivar, do you trust me?"

"Yes." Ivar breathes out his answer and, reaching out, he runs his hands up your ribs to your breasts. "You know I do." He doesn't have to say it for you to know he's referring to his legs. You know them; you're allowed to see and touch them and you know how big a deal it is to him. He does trust you.

"Then trust me, one more time, please. Trust me on this."

As you draw a finger up to the head of his cock and back down the underside, tracing a line around his balls, Ivar lets out a hiss, followed by a groan when you wrap your hand around him.

All of a sudden, he grabs your wrist, preventing you to move. "You know I can't…"

"Love, you're hard." Since you can't really move your hand, you squeeze your fingers around him to prove your point. You're rewarded by a deep, involuntary, grunt, but the next thing you know, Ivar is swaying his head from side to side. "It won't… last… long enough…" His words are barely audible; you know the admission kills him. And you know he's convinced that it is an unavoidable truth. Because that's exactly what happened with Margrethe.

"It will, my love. Have faith in yourself. And if you can't do that, then have faith in me."

Slowly, using your free hand, you unwrap his fingers from your wrist, your eyes never leaving his. Once he releases his grip, you give him a wicked smile and then scoot back farther while pulling down the sheet. Pushing his legs apart with care, you settle between them, reaching for his cock.

And then, you swallow him down and start to suck. Ivar gasps and pants, hissing breaths through his teeth. You know he never experienced anything like this. No one has never done that for him, and there's a sense of pride blooming in your chest knowing you're the one offering him so much pleasure.

Peeking up, you see your lover, propped up on his elbows, who looks at you as you really were a goddess. He's getting harder and harder, squirming underneath you. Pulling back reluctantly, you give him a sultry look, not missing how confused and… disappointed he looks.

"What… Why? I … Oh fuck… I think… Y/N… I… I was…" He stutters, struggling to gather his thoughts. You have to remind yourself of his reality. Your lover never had an orgasm.

"You were close, yes, I know, Ivar. And I promise you're going to come. But I want you to come inside me, my love."

Ivar swallows. "But…" Eyes darting all over the place, you know he's once again overcome with self-doubt.

"There's no buts, love." You cut him off, reaching out and then scrabbling around in your purse. When you find what you were looking for, you hold it triumphantly in front of you. "There's no buts because of this."

Ivar frowns, confused. "What's that?"

"A cock ring, my love. And well," you add, grabbing a small tube, "some lube too."

"A what?" Bewildered, Ivar sits up in the bed, but you push gently on his chest.

You did some research. The cock ring will help him maintain his erection. Not that he physically needs it – you're sure he doesn't – but emotionally, it's a different story. But since you don't want him to have time to rethink what you're about to do – and because you wouldn't want to waste such an impressive erection – you're not going to give him a lecture on cock rings right now.

"I'll explain later, love. It won't harm you; I promise. Trust me with this, Ivar, please."

When he nods – shyly, tentatively and almost sheepishly – you don't waste any more time and pour a small amount of lube into your hand. He gasps as soon as you wrap a slick hand around his still hard cock. Setting the lube aside, you slide the ring down his cock.

"Does it hurt?" Looking closely at his face for any sign of discomfort, you slowly run your hands up his thighs, and as he shakes his head no, you straddle him once more without ever breaking eye contact.

Ivar can barely breathe and doesn't even dare to blink. He can't believe it. Fuck, he can't. This is happening. This is fucking happening. He's rock-hard, harder than he has ever been and he feels like his pounding heart is going to burst.

Earlier, the warmth of your wet mouth on his dick felt insanely good. Your lips wrapped around him, your hand holding him, your eyes filled with an equal amount of lust and love… It has been almost too much, and heavenly as the same time. He would have wanted it to never end and had resented you for a moment when you had released his cock. But it doesn't matter, not anymore, not when you're just about–

"Aaaaaaaaah!" He closes his eyes, the new sensation incredible, otherworldly, overwhelming. He's dying. Or maybe he's already dead. He can't grasp what's happening, or what he's feeling. It's magic, like nothing he's ever felt before. His head is spinning and tears are welling up in his eyes. This… This must be Valhalla; it can't be anything else. Gods…

And then a distant voice brings him back to the here and now. "Ivar, look at me, my love." It takes him several seconds to understand that it is your voice, and that he's the one you're talking to.

Slowly, very slowly and almost reluctantly, because a part of him believes that what he's experiencing is nothing but a dream, he finally opens his eyes. What a glorious sight! You, the woman he loves, are sitting atop him, looking down at him as if he were the eighth wonder of the world. And you're… he's… fuck.

"I'm… Ah… Y/N… I'm…" He can't even form a coherent sentence but it doesn't matter, because you're so beautiful, because your face is radiant with love, because you definitely are a goddess. And because you know what he's trying to say.

"Yes, my love, you're inside me. And you're hard, and you're not hurting me. It feels so good, Ivar. You feel so good… Your home, my love…" Bending forward and weaving your fingers through his hair, you kiss him as you begin to move. He's at loss for what to do, and it doesn't matter, and there's fireworks in his heart, and you're fucking right, he's home. You're his home. His.

His hands on your thighs, he looks at you and you're so fucking beautiful it takes his breath away. And the feeling of you, wet and throbbing around his cock, is the most amazing thing he's ever felt.

Sitting upright, your back arches as you widen your legs. Your heat engulfing him, he stares at you, bewitched. You're riding him, hard, gasping, moaning, praising, your skin glistening with sweat.

Fuck.

The powerful thrusts of your hips coax his body to a place he's never been before. The sounds of your lovemaking are filling the room… The suction when he slides out of you; the slap of his balls against you when he goes deep. Your grunts. Your pantings. His breaths.

"Oh fuck… it's… oh gods..." You begin to move faster and he keeps his eyes on you. You don't shy away from his scrutiny, holding eye contact as you bounce on him. His hands now cup your ass cheeks, pulling you against him, and then they find your hips, guiding you. He's going to make you come, like a man. Like a whole man. He's going to make you come because he's inside you. The thought is exhilarating, intoxicating.

"Ivar, I'm close!" The way your eyes are half-lidded and lust drunk as you breathe out his name is the most erotic thing he's ever seen. When you begin to lose your rhythm, your moans morph to keening cries and finally you shout and he gasps and you cry out his name as you clamp around him, throwing your head back. The rush of your heat surrounding his cock is overpowering, prodigious, and he thinks he may be losing his mind.

Struggling to catch your breath and still trembling, you kiss him deeply, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He groans when you lift off him but your hand finds his cheek, caressing it. "I want you to come, and you won't come with the cock ring around your cock, love." Your skilled fingers hastily removing it, you toss the ring on the floor and then you straddle him once again, sliding down his cock.

The tingling deep in his balls is nearly immediate and he's sure he's never felt this good. He kisses you like he's starving, and in some ways he's. His hands slide over your breasts, your hips rocking, and you're so fucking beautiful he can't believe his eyes. "I love you so much…" He manages to croak in a shallow breath.

And suddenly everything explodes and he loses track of where you end and he begins, and if you answer he doesn't hear it. His ears ring and his hips thrust up against yours and his whole-body shudders violently, once; twice; more. And then his eyes flutter shut as he comes, wave after wave after wave, until he feels disoriented and light-headed, his hot, thick seed flooding your pussy, and it's so powerful it's like a fucking earthquake.

When his whole body goes limp, he lets out a soft whimper as you rest your head on his chest only to reach up and toy with his hair.

When you look up at him, he's sure the whirlwind of his emotions is obvious on his face, but he doesn't care, just like he doesn't care about his tear-filled eyes, or his crooked legs. Truth be told, for the first time in his life, he doesn't give a damn about his legs. For the first time in his life, he feels whole and worthy. For the first time in his life, he feels like the happiest man on Earth.

And that could well be the greatest gift you, Y/N, the goddess of replaced memories, could ever give him.

He loves you.

🛡⚔️🛡

@waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @ivarthebloodyking @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @pieces-by-me @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood

[may-fanfic]

When All Else Fails, Kiss Me 

summary: the powers you have are quite similar to Wanda’s and an  unbreakable bond is formed between the two of you. After months of pining, Tony’s hatches up a plan to make the two of you official. 

warnings: none 

word count: 2,150 

masterlist 

((feel free to send in any request you may have 💕)) 

--------

You moved through the warehouse, oblivious to the girl who silently moved behind you. It had been easy for wanda to get into people's heads, so she hadn't been concerned when she made herself known to you. You had been quick to spin around at the sound of her voice. wanda felt her breath get caught in the base of her throat. She had never seen someone so beautiful. Wanda almost forgot what she had been in the warehouse for, then it dawned on her, and that's when her eyes grew red.

She had tried a million times before to get into your head and manipulate your thoughts, but she had no way in for some reason. She had been so stunned that she gasped lightly, backing away from you, watching as your own eyes began to glow a soft blue. "don't worry, I won't hurt you." you had been there to catch the girl and turn her into the avengers, you knew they wouldn't hurt her, but you could see the fear in the girl's eyes.

It made you rethink your decision to turn the girl in. "wanda, I need you to trust me." your eyes had been a calming blue that made her feel secure. She wanted everything to trust you, but you had been one of them, and she knew better than ever to get involved with someone from stark industries.

"we're not bad people, wanda." she had rocked her jaw side to side, finally feeling the way everyone else felt when she would read their minds. She hadn't liked it. "I just want you to be safe." in all honesty, you hadn't been lying, but you also knew that you needed wanda in your team. she had been unstoppable, and if ultra got her, you'd be quickly compromised, and ultra would win.

your earpiece boomed with steve's voice, and you quickly replied. "I hadn't seen wanda." your eyes turned your standard shade before you met her gaze again. "think about what I said." and with that, you turned and left the young witch. She had been stunned and felt glued to her place before running off in the other direction.

-----

It hadn't taken long for Pietro and Wanda to join the Avengers, and while she had been relieved to finally be able to settle down after what felt like her whole life of fighting, she could never shake her first incident with you. You had been so kind, gentle with her, and she felt like it had been up to her to repay you somehow.

She always wished she could meet you under other circumstances. The longer wanda knew you, the more stable she felt. Your friendliness had not just been a façade to make the girl trust you, you had genuinely just been the most loving person she had ever met, and Wanda had been more than grateful that she had a friend despite her need for more.

It had been movie night which turned into some tradition with Wanda and Pietro. While getting to know them, they shared that movie night with their parents had become a ritual, and it had been their fondest memories right up until their last one. You had felt like it was your responsibility to make it up to them and continue it with the twins, still, as the time when on Pietro realized that those movie nights had turned into something else for you and wanda. As much as he enjoyed the time spent with his sister and best friend, he wanted to give his sister the space to make a move.

You were cuddling up to Wanda under the blanket. Your head resting softly against her shoulder as her favorite sitcom played on the big screen. She was grinning and giggling at every joke, and you found it endearing. She had always been the happiest during these moments. You didn't understand her attraction to these cheesy sitcoms. Still, whenever she suggested one, you happily obeyed. "this is my favorite part." she quietly spoke through her smile. You perked up, placing your full attention on the screen, chuckling along with her when the husband fell down the stairs but stood right back up.

You settled back onto her shoulder when the scene was over, and wanda found yourself smiling down at you.

It had been a while since wanda found herself truly happy; it was almost too good to be true. She wanted to understand you completely; she wanted to know you inside out. She wanted to know what you thought about her, exactly how you felt, and she knew the only way she could get a clear reading of that was if you let her in. Her hand came up to rest against your head, caressing your locks gently before her lips parted to asked the question.

"can I use my powers on you?" her cheeks had been a tint of pink as her hand moved from your head to your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. You adjust yourself to look at wanda thoroughly, your gaze gentle and your smile soft. The question itself had been intimate, she was asking for her way in, into somewhere sacred and only yours, and you knew once she had listened to everything for herself, things would change, but it had been a change you were willing to go through for her.

You let a soft giggle escape your lips as your cheeks grew a light pink to match her own, your smile erupted butterflies into that pit of her stomach, and she couldn't help but match your smile. "of course, maxi." you uttered out teasingly.

You sat up straight, facing the girl with a cheeky grin, and despite her nervousness, she still reached forward, her hand coming to rest softly against your cheek, stroking your skin tenderly.

"you can't hurt me," you whispered, noticing the hesitation in her eyes, reaching up to grab the hand placed on your cheek before guiding it to your forehead. she let out a gentle breath. You watched as her eyes turned the shade of red before you fluttered your eyes shut, taking in every way that the girl felt. It hadn't taken long before wanda finished, a gentle smile placed on her lips as she gazed at you. Everything she needed to know, she now knew. She had felt a sense of comfort and completion.

Wanda's gaze snapped from you to the tv, grinning lightly at the scene that played out, pointing at the screen, and eagerly telling you to watch it. You didn't need to use your magic to concur how wanda felt for you, so you had been content, moving back to your previous position leaning against her shoulder once again, watching the silly sitcom again.

------

Wanda came off as reversed to everyone else, but she seemed to be a different person with you. It made it clear for her teammates that she had liked you. It didn't sit right with them that the both of you had been denying your feelings for so long, so they took it upon themselves to hatch up a plan to get the both of you alone together, long enough to confess.

The Avengers assured you the nature of your getaway to the cabin in the woods was for nothing more than a mission. However, when you arrived at the set location, they never picked up your calls for the details.

Letting out a gentle sigh, you made your way into the living room, where you found Wanda sitting. Her head was down as she looked at something in her hands. "anything yet?" you questioned, causing her gaze to snap up to you. "I don't think we'll be hearing for them," she answered, extending her arm out to hand you a piece of paper.

Your eyebrows fluttered together as you took extensive steps to reach out for the paper. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the written note in hand. 'Enjoy your private getaway, Sincerely, The Avengers.'

Of course, they would do something like this, especially Tony, who had an act for fixing people up. "This is absurd," you commented, setting the paper aside on the coffee table. Wanda shrugged as she took in the state of you. you had been wearing the nightclothes you packed, freshly out of the shower. "I don't know, it's kinda nice," she whispered, causing a gentle breath to fall past your lips, letting your shoulders drop in defeat.

"We should be back in the tower, prepping for the mission, maxi." Wanda stood up from her seat, a smile playing its way onto her lips.  "What is it? You don't want to be alone with me?" she teased playfully, a fake pout tugging at her lips as she neared you.

"You know that's not it," you whispered, arms wrapping around your body to find some comfort. "Then, let's just relax." Wanda urged, smiling down at you. Wanda and yourself have been working your ass to the bone for the job, and you knew that some relaxation would do you good. Besides, there wasn't anyone else in the world you'd enjoy wining down with more.

Both you and wanda had some unresolved feelings towards each other, and even after the night she looked into your brain, you'd never talk about it with her.

----- You and Wanda had been full of giggles after cracking open a bottle of wine you found in the cabin. The two of you sat in the living room, just enjoying each other's company before you called it a night. You had never stood up so late, considering you had set training times with Nat.

You have never seen Wanda so drunk before, and it had been amusing, to say the less. You managed to drink more than Wanda, but yet the girl seemed more intoxicated than ever. The moment had been pleasant, and if you were honest, you never wanted it to end.

"You were right. This is nice," you confessed, smiling down at your wine glass. Wanda hummed in agreement, quickly growing serious for a moment causing your eyes to snap up to Wanda. "you know..." wanda whispered out, her eyes meeting yours. Your eyebrows rose in question, waiting for the girl to continue.

"Tony told me all about his plan to get us out of the compound," she confessed after some time. You watched as her fingers moved around the brim of her glass, and you noticed the way her cheeks turned a bright pink color. "Oh," you uttered out, surprised that Wanda had something to do with this poorly constructed plan.

"Tony knew you wouldn't have approved," she spoke shyly, a frown forming on her lips. "why didn't you tell me?" it wasn't that big of a deal; you didn't mind much in hindsight. She shrugged lightly, her eyes snapping away from yours with embarrassment. "I didn't want you to say no."

"Tony is Tony, Maxi... I would've said yes to you." you'd never say no to wanda, in all honesty. The word didn't exist in your vocabulary when it came to her. You'd do anything she'd ask of you. That's how you knew you were completely and utterly in love with Wanda.

Wanda just wanted you to herself for some time. That's why she even agreed to Tony's plan. You were always so occupied with training and other things that Wanda hardly got the time to relax with you. She set down her glass on the coffee table, giving you all her attention.

"I just wanted alone time." her words made a small smile form on the corners of your lips. "why?" you questioned softly, wanting to force it out of her that she was just as in love with you as you were her. She had never actually said it, and as patient as you tried to be, you could only take it for so much longer.

She let out a sigh, her eyes burning into yours. "You know why," she replied, your eyes narrowed at hers, a grin finding its way onto your lips.

"Say it." you urged, inching dangerously closer to her until you hardly had space left. You could feel her breath fan out over your face as she tried to find the right words to say to you. When she felt as words wouldn't have done her feelings justice, she leaned forward until her lips collapsed with yours. The kiss was short and sweet, but it still made up for all the times she hadn't said enough.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" the girl childishly uttered out after the initial shock of the kiss worn off. a soft giggle escaped your lips as you nodded, causing a goofy smile to form on wanda’s lips before she leaned in to grace you with another kiss.

You made a mental note to thank Tony for his genius plan.

[shadowsingersmate]

Not requested but I’ve come across a lot of fica where azriel is being distant and doesn’t communicate with the reader (which I absolutely love cause I’m a drama and angst enthusiast) BUT! I wanted to make a fic where the reader actually tries to talk to azriel and he listens and tries to help them. So without farther adue hope you enjoy!

Warnings: depressive thought, mention of suicide, self desperation.

It was happening again. You thought you had gotten better, you thought that after ten years with the love of your life, your mate -Azriel- you would get better. But that was not the case at all, not only you didn’t found peace but your mind started battling with you harder, the force of your depressive thoughts would never fail to crush every bit of confidence and happiness you had worked so hard to built.

You knew you had to talk to someone, no matter how hard it was, you knew you had to open up. It was hard, especially as bottling up your emotion had become a habit. However, if you ever wanted to get better you had to talk to someone and you had decided that the only person you trusted with this piece of information was Azriel.

He was currently in his office doing some paperwork, you stalked right outside the door and stayed there, hesitating. Maybe he was busy, maybe you shouldn’t talk to him right now.

𝑀𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑖𝑚 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑏𝑤𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑙? 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑎ℎ𝑖𝑡, 𝑛𝑜𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛, 𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑥𝑦𝑔𝑒𝑛. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒, 𝑔𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑧𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑙 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒. 𝐷𝑖𝑒. 𝐷𝑖𝑒. 𝐷𝑖𝑒

You clawed at the skin in your palm as an attempt to shut down that malicious part of your brain. You raised your fist, you were ready. You were….

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦? 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦? 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙?

You suddenly lost every bit of nerve and lowered your fist. He would think you were ungrateful.

You were just about to leave when the door opened suddenly revealing your mate. He looked tired, but not as exhausted as he usually looked.

“What’s wrong love?” He asked. You could see from he look on his face that he knew something was up.

You were about to wave his question off with your usual ‘I’m fine’ and a weak smile but you had made a promise to yourself. You needed help and this was your one chance.

“Actually. Can- can I bother you for a bit? It won’t take long” you could feel the anxiety creeping “of course, come in” his eyebrows furrowed worryingly

You took a couple of deep breaths or at least you tried too. He gestured for you to sit down but you shook your head and he nodded sitting on his chair. You could feel his eyes burning your figure and your hands started shaking uncontrollably.

“What happened?” He asked and without taking a single second to rethink you decision you lashed out. “Lately I’ve been having this problem. Actually is not really lately. I- I’ve been dealing with this since before I met you, since I can remember and I- I thought it was getting better and that I could deal with this on my own but I’m kinda struggling so” at his point you were pacing, fidgeting with your hands, your voice breaking with each word. For a moment you contemplating glancing down at your seated mate but you knew that if you so much as tried to look at him you would completely lost your nerve, so you continued.

“I don’t want you to think that you are not enough for me, or that you ever did anything to make me sad, or rethink my worth and everything, it’s really not your fault and I really don’t want to wasn’t your time and bother you but I- I think I really need help Azriel” you took a deep breath.

Azriel listened to you, pure shock and sadness washing though him. He couldn’t stand it, you looked so nervous to talk. For a moment he really though he did something to make you not to trust him. “Love, what kind of problem?” He had some ideas himself but he wasn’t sure and he wanted to be sure about what you were dealing with, he wanted to help you with everything he had.

You sighted “it’s that, my mind sometimes can be a little too loud. Umhh it- I will just hear this voice - which I know it sounds crazy- but it keeps telling my that” tears started blurring your vision but you went on “I don’t- that- I-I” you couldn’t utter the words, you really couldn’t.

You took another deep breath, then another, trying to calm yourself, trying to avoid the panick attach you could feel to starting getting too close. “It keeps telling me that I’m worthless, that I don’t deserve anything, that I have no one and that I’m alone and that nobody really cares or will ever care cause I don’t deserve it and I- I know it’s partially true but I-“ and then it hit you, everything just slumped to you and your sobs got louder.

You unconsciously moved your hand to cover your mouth to muffle the sounds (as you always did when azriel was home). In a matter of seconds Azriel was besides you, his arms wrapping a round you, his hand stroking your back gently, whispering sweet nothings into your hair.

“Baby please. I know what is like. You sound perfectly reasonable” that was all he could say for now. He was devastated, the only thing that kept him from tearing up was the urge to be strong for you, to be strong enough to help you.

You stood like this for a while, he had let you cry and let your emotions out for as long as you whised. When he realized that you were calm enough he slid his hand under you chin pushing it upwards “look at me, you are 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑔 to me, you are everything I could ever wish for and more. I love you, I’m by your side, I will always be by your side. Please, just please believe me. I love you, you’re not worthless you have helped me, you’re ere the one to bring light into my life when I was at my lowest please” he couldn’t help it, he was crying.

You buried you head into his chest again, not being able to say anything. You felt a shift in the room and when you looked up you realized that Azriel had winnowed you to your shared bedroom.

“I love you, there’s nothing that I could ever want more than you” he said stroking your hair softly.

“Thank you Azriel. I- I just want you to know that this is not your fault at all. You are everything I could ever wish for as well and I love you” you said between sobs. Azriel nodded in response before tightening his grip.

Right there and then you both had realized that no matter what you had each other. That you had someone to turn to, that you would never be alone ever again because you had each other.