#did not expect those tags next to each other today

[kawaiianimeredhead]

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[runningfrom2am]

Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!

as long as you need me - c.s

pairing: coryo x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav / coriolanus snow masterlist

a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!

You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him. 

"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.

"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.

"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.

"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"

"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.

"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"

"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.

"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"

"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."

"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.

At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.

Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.

These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.

Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.

"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.

"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.

"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."

Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.

"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.

"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.

"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."

"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.

The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.

"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."

Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.

Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.

You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.

You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.

Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.

"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.

As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."

He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"

He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.

"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.

He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.

Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."

taglist: @keziahcore, @soulessjourney, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @rororo06, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, 

[whiskeyghoul]

Pt2. || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader]

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

A/N: OMG I can’t believe how much people enjoyed part 1? Seriously, as I am finishing this part up it has reached over 500 notes, I am shocked and so very thankful for the love. I didn’t expect it. A silly little fic not proof read, totally self indulgent, really this is so wonderful and I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read it and reblog, like or comment on it. I hope part 2 doesn’t disappoint. Part 3 is going to be here soon too, which will be the unofficial date.

WC: 1,9K ~

Tags: Fluff, just fluff, Spencer is a flustered mess, Alt!Reader, Goth!Reader, 2 idiots flirting, Reader and Penelope are besties, use of Y/N, Penelope has been playing matchmaker, alluding to a date, crushes.

Warnings: None. 

Your pov.

It was a late Sunday afternoon. You were sitting on Penelope Garcia’s couch, cup of hot tea in hand. Legs curled up on the couch with a colorful blanket over your lap. It clashed just ever so slightly with your dark outfit. The two of you are in complete contrast to each other. Penelope was a ball of color in a bright purple dress with a lemon pattern, large yellow earrings and a blue bolero sweater. Compared to your all black ensemble she was a ray of sunshine. An array of snacks spread out over the coffee table. The aforementioned peppy blonde was sitting next to you on the couch. Deeply engrossed with the romance show playing on the TV. You watched it together every Sunday, when a new episode would come out. Today your mind was somewhere else completely.

“He hasn’t called yet.” You spoke up. Penelope eyed you curiously, “Who?” She asked, her focus gone from the show. Her eyes peered at you with interest from behind the cat eye glasses she had picked out that day. “Doctor Reid.” You turned your head back to the TV casually, trying to not seem bothered. You could hear Penelope hold back a small squeal. It sounded more like a gasp that way. “Oh my god! Are you interested in him? What did he do to impress you? I have been trying to set you up for ages! You have shot down any person I have discussed with you. Always something wrong.” She started rambling, hearing the clink of her glass being put on the coffee table. Her hands grabbed yours, making you look back at her and rolling your eyes. “Firstly: I am not ‘interested’ in him. Secondly: I just thought he would have called by now. Or stopped by at least.” You shrugged noncommittally. You were just a little interested. Thinking back to that meeting.

When Spencer had stepped into the lab earlier that week, courtesy of Penelope, you had found his awkward demeanor endearing. He was hot, that was for sure, and tall, you remembered having to look up at him, Those dark brown eyes pinning you in place. Especially when you had stood so close together. You had wanted to tease him after watching him stumble over his sentences. See him even more flustered. It made you somewhat excited. When you had given him your number you could feel his pulse racing under his skin. He had shown many signs of being interested yet he hadn’t even texted you. It made you rethink the interaction. 

“Well, he couldn’t have stopped by. They got called on a case in Utah so he’s not really in the area right now.” Penelope clarified. Those words put your mind at ease more than you expected them to. “Oh, I guess he can’t really get to the lab then.” You shrugged. Just a little disappointed but feeling relieved that apparently he hadn’t meant to not visit you. Or maybe he had done so on purpose if he would be close. Your earlier relief was replaced by a mild panic again. Trying to convince yourself you weren’t interested in Dr. Reid. Although, he could have texted.

You could practically feel Penelope smirk as you turned your attention back on the TV. Unable to focus but pretending to. “Spence is not one for texting. He probably has been getting to the hotel at ungodly hours and hasn’t had time to call.” it was like she could read your mind. “Don’t do that.” You said with a shudder. “Do what?” Penelope questioned innocently. “Read my mind like that. It’s weird.” You answered, making her laugh. “Just goes to show how well I know you.” She answered with a smile. It was true. She knew you too well you would even argue. The fact both of you were women in a male dominated field, both dressed eccentricly, and both with a passion for cheesy movies and tv shows. It was only a matter of time until you were best friends after your first run in.

Your phone, which was placed on the table, lit up at that moment. The ringtone played at a high volume, making the cure blast through the room. Your eyes quickly flickered to the screen. Caller ID unknown. You picked up the phone, hesitant of the unknown caller, deciding to hang up instead. You had been plagued by telemarketers for the past month and really didn’t want to deal with that right now. If it was important they would call again. And they did, you still had your phone in your hands when it went off again. “Just pick it up! I will keep watch over our show, fill you in later.” Penelope said, motioning her hands for you to get up. You got off the couch, soft blanket falling to the ground as you picked up the phone. Softly padding away to the kitchen to be out of earshot of Penelope. “Y/n speaking.” you answered, waiting to hear from the other end of the line.

“Hey… ehm… is this not the right time? Are you busy?” The voice on the other end of the line made you straighten up slightly in surprise. “Doctor Reid.” You breathe out his name quietly, adding a “Now is a perfectly good time.” to your sentence. Wondering how hearing his voice through the slightly tin-like phone speaker made you feel a little flutter in your stomach. “Good… I didn’t want to bother you. You can just call me Spencer by the way. Doctor sounds too formal. I just introduce myself like that. It’s a habit. I don’t call you Doctor L/n either. So call me Spencer.” He started rambling. A smile spread across your lips, this rambly version was different from how speechless he had been in the lab. You held back a giggle. Apparently you had rendered him speechless in the lab. “Alright, Spencer.” You answered, the humor in your voice apparent. His breath hitched a little on the other side of the line. 

“Why did you call?” You asked, trying to continue on without dawdling. “Oh eh, the report, I ehm…” He was quiet for a moment. It crossed your mind that maybe he didn’t need to speak with you, but he wanted to. “Yes?” You urged after a silence had fallen on the other side of the phone line. There was an intake of breath from Spencer, a moment that signaled he might be trying to raise some courage. “I didn’t want to talk about the report.” He finally spoke. It made you smile, your cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “Oh, well then what did you want to talk about?” You added a bit of playfulness in your tone. You pictured him, holding the phone to his ears that were tipped red. His face was probably just as flushed as it had been in the lab. 

“I ehm- I haven’t been able to focus, on the case that is. Because I keep thinking about the lab. How I probably came off as a mess, I just didn’t know what to say because you looked so… Not that you look bad because you don’t, you looked really nice. Emily says my IQ gets slashed down to 68 when I am around pretty girls. I wanted to make a good impression. I couldn’t find the words though. I usually don’t make great first impressions, because I tend to ramble. Just- I really really hope I didn’t make a bad first impression.” His sentences flowed into each other like word vomit. Nervous, quick, and hardly understandable. Luckily, you were trained in the art of understanding nervous rambles when Penelope would spiral into one from time to time. However he had called you pretty. “Spencer.” You said his name almost like a question. There was a beat of silence. “Yes?” He asked softly, he sounded so nervous.

“You didn’t make a bad impression. I gave you my number for a reason.” You told him with a smile, a little giddy as the words ‘he called me pretty’ kept bouncing around your head. “And I am sorry I called without any real reason to… I know it was for talking about the report. Though Morgan tried to convince me it wasn’t.” Spencer answered. You rolled your eyes at that. Ofcourse, this hyper intelligent man would mix up what you were trying to do. “I gave you my number because I wanted you to call me. Not about the report. I just wanted you to call me. About anything.” There was apparently a need to clear up that confusion. It was silent for another moment. “Oh.” It was like realization dawned on him. “So I should have called sooner, right?” His question made you laugh softly, trying not to clue in Penelope on your call.  “Yes, you should have. Or could have at least. I was waiting.” You answered back, smiling at the ground. You fidgeted with one of the large rings on your free hand, twisting the cool metal round with your thumb.

“I’m sorry I didn’t.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice. The slight uptick in his pitch. You imagined he was still fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater, or was perhaps looking at his shoes with a grin. “You can make it up to me by buying me a coffee when you get back.” The suggestion came naturally, you didn’t even have to think about it. The words left your lips before you could, really. “What do you like?” Spencer asked without hesitation. “Cinnamon latte.” You answered it softly, a little surprised he agreed so readily. A giddy feeling in your stomach. “Alright, cinnamon latte, I’ll remember.” Spencer sounded a little breathy, like he too was feeling giddy at the prospects of having coffee together. Like the idea of taking time to get to know each other at work over a warm beverage was the perfect first date. “What do you like?” You asked in turn, wanting to know what he would usually get. Knowing more about him would feel so domestic and sweet. “Black coffee, usually with tons of sugar.” He had a hint of embarrassment in your voice. A little muffled like he had covered his mouth to hold in the confession of drinking it so sweet. You smiled at his answer. Of course he had a sweet tooth. “Tons of sugar, I’ll remember.” You mirrored his words. 

“Oh! My! God!” You heard Penelope gasp from the living room. Knocking you out of your little phone call bubble with Spencer. “I think I have to go. You better call me tomorrow.” You said it lightheartedly. Just wanting to hear from him again soon. “I will. I’ll call you.” Spencer answered. “Bye Spencer.” “Bye Y/n.” You hung up with a smile, already turning and walking back into the living room. Penelope turned around on the couch to look at you, “They shot Richard!” She looked absolutely shocked as she gave you the news of your favorite character being hurt. You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face though. “Spencer called.” You saw her face form from a shocked to surprise expression, “Oh! My! God!” She sounded a lot happier that time, and you knew you wouldn't hear the end of it.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Sweet Delights

Peeta Mellark x AFAB!Reader

Summery: It's a slow work day in District 12. With rain pouring down outside, who can blame you for wanting to indulge a little? Everything's fine so long as no one walks in... right?

Tags: Pre-established relationship, no use of y/n, pet names, reader has AFAB body/female pronouns, switch!Peeta, switch!Reader, edging, female fingering, teasing, count down, orgasm denial, blow job, face fucking, public sex, someone walks in, dirty talk, Peeta's a freak but he's sweet about it, praise kink if you squint, mentions of eating out, cum swallowing, cursing, post-Mockingjay but that's not really relevant, no reader orgasm this time around. Once again, I'm probably forgetting something.

Notes: I have to say, I did not expect Peeta to win the poll! And not to worry for everyone else, I'll get to all those characters eventually. (Derek girlies, I see you and I love you.) Thank you for your support on the last one, I hope you like this one too! Bon ABBA teeth.

•°《▪︎♡▪︎》°•

Peeta loves surprises.

Giving them, receiving them. If it's unexpected, Peeta is practically bouncing off his chair to figure out what to do with it.

It made everyday life sweeter. Slipping a note into his apron pocket when he wasn't looking for him to discover, finding a million more hidden in my apron. Little drawings hidden amongst everyday things, like the wildflowes Peeta likes to draw and place next to my powders and perfumes. But best of all surprises were the little pastries we would make when the days were slow and the other was watching the front of the bakery. Usually using scraps, because Peeta detests wasting food, but always delicious nonetheless.

The best innocent surprise, I should say.

Today was an especially slow day. Rain pounding down in District 12, making the roads thick with mud. It's a blessing for the hot ovens that fight against the cold seeping through the front windows. Although they're helping me more than Peeta, who's up front perched at the counter, insistent as always that someone needs to be watching the shop. "We won't hear the bell over the rain," he'd said.

I knew better than that. There were tells when Peeta wanted a surprise. He'd never just ask for something, always fearing rejection. Of course the minute I opened my mouth he was ready to do whatever I had even intrusively dreamed of so long as it meant love and praise. But to ask for himself? It's a whole different matter. So when he is insistent I work alone in the back, I understand that this is his own silent way of asking for some sort of surprise. And with the way his broad shoulders look in that pale yellow knit sweater, who am I to deny him?

I'm not one to deny him anything, quite frankly.

The best surprises of all are when we sneak up behind the other, always starting so innocently. Maybe while one of us is baking, maybe while one of us is simply dressing. With the quick slip of a hand, it doesn't take long before the other is panting and begging for release. Not that we always give it to each other.

Peeta liked sneaking up on me in private. Usually when I was in the back baking.

"What are you working on?" He'd usually ask.

"Custom order," I may answer with a smile. He liked my smiles, always said so.

"What are the details?" He'd ask. He'd put his hands on my lower back, rubbing soft enough to not disturb me while still working out some knots.

Then I'd prattle off details. This one is for so-and-so down on whatever-street-or-corner, they'd like a cake.

"For the Harvest Festival?" He'd ask. I'd nod, still focused on my task. "How many orders do we have for the Festival?"

"A good bit, it's our busiest time," I'd always say with a bright, soft tone to my voice. He'd chuckle, placing a small kiss on the back of my neck and pressing his hips against mine from behind, usually revealing his hard on.

"So, how many orders this year?" He'd ask. His hands would work at a knot, his breath hot on my neck, and his hips would roll ever so slowly against mine, taking his time to build both of us up.

"Ah, I think- I think 12?" I'd say, trying to focus on both him and whatever I was making. Cake. Right. Stir.

"12?" He'd ask. His cock would be deliciously hard, grinding against my clothed cunt just a bit harder as his hands would return to my hips, steadying me against him. "That's pretty good."

"Double digits," I'd say brightly, my voice breathy as I struggle more to focus. Cake. Stir. Hands, not hips.

But I'd always do hips instead, leaning back and tilting my head ever so slightly so he can see my enjoyment.

"You need to stir," Peeta would gently guide in my ear. My back would press against his front, his chin now resting on my shoulder.

"I know," I'd say softly. I didn't know shit.

He'd chuckle, one hand slipping to my front to cup one of my breasts.

"Need to get those orders out," he'd remind me. "You always seem so stressed about being on time."

"One of us has to be," I'd say. His hand on my hip would find the band of my pants, slipping past them and teasing me, sliding his fingers against my wet folds.

"Pick up the whisk," he'd instruct. My hands would shake as they obeyed, moving from being splayed across the marble counter to resume my task.

"Stir slowly," he'd say. His large fingers would slip over my entrance, coating himself in the thick lube now dripping from me. "You want to make sure the texture's correct."

It took such mental energy to balance the two things. Especially when he would finally sink in his middle finger, always going knuckle deep and twirling it around inside of me, making sure to leave no spot untouched. His other hand would pinch and pull at my breast, giving special care to make his fingers replicate the feeling of his soft lips wrapped around my sensitive nipples.

"What's the next order?" He'd ask. I could feel myself dripping down his hand, and I knew he loved this. Peeta would do whatever he could to make sure I was wet, even when he wouldn't go any further than simple teasing. I think he liked the idea of me always being ready. Not that he would assume. He always started out slow, and if I ever said no it was never a big deal. He'd simply continue talking to me and go on with his day perfectly fine. But if I was willing, he'd always massage or do whatever until he could feel my arousal himself. I think it's why he likes eating out best. Especially when I'd talk him through it, usually promising to cum down his throat while tugging his soft blond hair. His eyes would grow wide and soft at that, his whimpers increasing as he'd fuck me quicker with his tongue, grinding himself against whatever. It was a beautiful mess he'd turn himself into, desperate and begging silently as he clutched my hips.

"The what?" I'd ask breathlessly. I was tight around him, focused on how slow and sweet he was pumping in and out, twirling and wiggling his finger inside of me. His other hand slipping under my shirt, and his lips sucking gently at my neck, careful not to leave bruises.

"The orders, sweetheart," he'd gently remind me. "What's the next one?"

My lips would part, eyes fluttering shut as I tried to remember. His middle finger would pump out and then pump back in with the addition of his pointer finger, tearing a soft moan from my throat.

"Shh," he'd gently whisper. "We're at work."

He liked this little game. Ramping me up, forcing me to behave a certain way so to not tip off customers. If Peeta wouldn't immediately be arrested for it, something tells me he'd simply fuck me in the front room, bent over the register counter during business hours and just act like it's a normal thing. Such a sweet boy.

"I- ah- need to look at the book," I'd say. He'd roll my nipple between his two fingers, his other two fingers pumping slightly faster as his lips suck at the spot just under my ear.

"You have such a good memory though," he'd say. "You can remember. Just think."

That's a lie. I have a horrible memory and we both know it. But if I say I can't, he'll pull away. Sweet and gentle, he'll go get the book and place a million kisses on my cheek before leaving me to my work and dizziness.

Next order. Next order. That's easy. It's a tart with cream on top. Cream. God, I'd like his cock in my mouth right now.

"Next order. Come on, pretty girl. I know you know it," he'd softly encourage.

"I know it," I'd moan, my head tilted back and resting on his shoulder, fucking his fingers instead of working on the cake. He feels so good, so warm and protecting. Simply smelling the traces of dill and cinnamon baked into his skin made my mind shut off, my eyes growing tired from the feeling of safety.

"I know you know it," he'd say so sweetly. "You're smart, pretty. And you've got a delicious cunt I'd love to fuck over and over if I could," he'd say softly, placing warm kisses on my neck between each point. I was panting openly now, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried desperately to remember who ordered what.

His fingers curled inside of me, making rapid 'come hither' motions fast enough to steal a soft, sudden cry fron my lips. Peetas mouth found mine, swallowing my moans and giving me some of his own.

"I may have to count down, sweet girl," he'd warn me. His fingers had found my g spot, hitting and rubbing it at rapid speed. The cuff of his sweater is soaked from me, his hand sticky and coated. I shake my head quickly, moaning and gripping the counter as best I could to keep myself standing.

"I can remember," I whimpered. Peeta laughed softly.

"I know you can, sweet girl. But look at you, you're a total mess." His voice is sweet and kind, his eyes taking in my current state. "I can't have you all dumb back here during work hours."

He's sweet but he's cruel. God, he's cruel!

"I think there's berries in it," I stammered.

"Ten," he's start patiently, his teeth tugging at my earlobe.

"N-no, wait! There's- There's berries and there's..." I'm completely making this up. I have no clue what's next.

"Nine," he continued, knowing this.

"That's not fair, you started low on purpose!" I whined.

"Eight." He wouldn't argue. I was right.

"It's got- got cottage cheese frosting." I'm so close, so awfully close. I can feel myself clenching around him rapidly, my pussy swallowing his fingers quicker and quicker as I climbed closer towards the edge.

"Seven." Oh, God. This motherfucker.

"Six. Come on, good girl. You can do this," he'd encourage sweetly, kissing my cheek and trailing to my collarbone with said kisses.

"They wanted flowers on the top. Violets, I remember that!" That detail is actually true, surprisingly. The candy violets were always easy to remember because I loved them so much.

"Five." His other hand kneeded my breast, admiring the soft flesh and running his thumb over my stiff, aching nipple repeatedly. "Four."

"You're speeding up," I whined. "This isn't fair."

He let out a soft 'aw,' apologizing and speeding his hands to bring me closer to the edge.

"If you can come before one, I'll fuck you right here," he promised. "You can come before one, can't you?"

I nodded stupidly, moaning and panting as I sped up my hips, slamming down on his hand repeatedly. Cake details be damned, this is my mission now.

"Three." I'm so impossibly close.

"Two."

"Wait a minute, slow down-"

"One."

With one final, cruel, hard thrust of his hand he slips away, leaving me to almost crumple to the ground and opening my eyes to blink stupidly, trying to process what just happened.

"You okay?" He asked softly, his dry hand cupping my cheek and looking at me carefully with his sweet, hazel eyes.

A long, soft whine escaped me, batting my lashes as I lean against him and whisper as many 'please's as I can, pressing a dozen kisses all over him. He laughed softly, returning the kisses with whispered 'I love you's.

"Let me go get that book," he'd said. And that was that until that evening when he made up for it like he always did.

Now I was carefully removing a tiny apple pie made from leftovers meant specifically for Peeta. The rain was as bad as ever as I entered the front room, Peeta leaning on the palm of his hand while he struggled not to doze off. His long lashes flutter softly, his lips pressing against each other and his jaw a bit tight.

"Hi sleepyhead," I whisper, sneaking up behind him. He started a little, turning to look at me with the sweetest smile he has.

"Hi," he says cheerily, his voice just a touch gravely. His eyes glance down to the small treat in my hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Is that for me?"

"Of course it is," I say, placing it in front of him. "Figured you could use something to warm you up. It's freezing up here."

He chuckles. "It's not that cold," he says as he picks up the fork I'd placed next to the tiny pie and began scooping some up.

"Liar," I teased. "You're shivering."

He shifts in his seat slightly. "Not from that," he says, a small blush growing on his cheeks. He takes the first bite, then another, smiling and leaning his head against my shoulder.

"Thank you, dear," he says softly. He leans in for a kiss to which I happily oblige, cupping his jaw with my left hand. His lips taste sweet, the sticky apple and cinnamon tasting delicious on him. I swipe my tongue across his lips, stealing a soft moan from him as he allows my tongue access to his mouth, melting in my hands. His hand dropped the fork, accidently missing the pan and instead hitting the counter, but neither of us care. His hand comes up to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to silently ask me for more.

My other hand trails down to his lap, finding one of his hands already there, palming his stiff, clothed cock through his pants.

"Is this what you were doing when I came up?" I ask softly, pulling away from the kiss only a bit. He chases me, biting at my bottom lip to drag me back to him. That's a yes, then.

My tongue explores his warm mouth, tasting him while my hand traces the outline of his dick, pressing and flicking against the tip. He whines, bucking softly into my hand, desperate for more.

"Can you stay quiet?" I ask him, pulling away again. This time my hand on the back of his neck grabs his golden locks, holding him still as I look into his eyes. His cheeks are red as well as his lips, kiss swollen and damp. His breathing is heavy, his eyes blown out. Barely touched and already a beautiful mess.

"Huh?" He asks, his voice higher than usual as he tries to focus. His hand grasping my wrist, making sure to keep my hand where he can buck against it.

"If I asked you to, would you stay quiet?" I repeat gently, teasing him with kisses by leaning forward and pulling away. We both liked this.

"Yes," he said quickly. "Anything."

"Anything?" I ask, raising my brows.

"Anything."

Alright.

I press a quick, admittedly sloppy kiss to his lips once more before dropping to my knees and slipping under the counter. His brows furrow in confusion before he realizes what I'm doing.

"You can't!" He whispers frantically. "What if someone walks in?"

"That's why I asked if you could stay quiet," I say patiently. "Can you?"

He bites his lip, obviously unsure. His eyes dart between me and the shop door, thinking.

"We can wait," I offer genuinely. This seems to be the deciding factor.

"I'll be quiet," he promises eagerly. "I've got a pie I can shove in my mouth if I can't, right?" He jokes, his smile crooked and eager as his hands work quickly to begin freeing himself. He's excited alright.

"Right," I say, taking his hands away and undoing the buttons on his pants myself. "Just keep watch of the shop, alright sweet boy?" He nods, placing his arms on the counter and trying to resume his position.

I slip his cock from the confines of his clothes, pressing a soft wet kiss to the underside along a thick vein. A quiet whine escapes him, his hand covering his mouth. I'm not truly worried about him being quiet, no one is going to come in here during such bad weather. It's just an edge to help work him into a frenzy, knowing full well he never stays quiet. I'd thought I was vocal when we started our relationship, but Peeta easily takes the cake.

His cock is warm, half hard against my lips that trail his veins. My tongue slides from his tip to his base, barely any pressure on his skin. Grazing always works best to start out with. When I reach his base I lap at his skin, blowing soft, cold air against the wet spots to make him squirm in his chair. I focus on his base for a while, sucking, licking, blowing. Ever so gently I even bite just the tiniest bit, enough for him to notice the edges of my teeth along his red, pulsing cock. His voice is soft, panting quietly.

My tongue trails slowly up his cock, exploring different ridges and spots that make him whimper quietly, working my way back to his tip which is soaked with thick, warm precum. I wrap my lips around him, swiping the moisture away with my tongue in one round sweep. I relish in the cry it tears from his throat, the dozen little apologies he whimpers immediately after. His hand covers his mouth, and the other trails down to gently cup the back of my head. I smile around him, swirling my spit around his tip as I suck gently, pressing my tongue against the underside of his dick.

His fingers play with my hair, unintentionally tugging it and apologizing as he does. I simply squeeze his thighs and begin lowering myself, taking him until his tip hits the back of my throat, taking deep, even breaths to fight off the gags that threaten to escape me.

It's when my nose buries in his soft, curly hair at his base that the bell of the front door rings.

"Hi!" Peeta says a little too quickly, a little too brightly. "Welcome to Mellarks Bakery. How may we- I help you today?"

I'm frozen, his hand gripping my hair out of anxiety. If I pull away, we'll be done. If I stay here, Peeta may very well have to make good on his promise.

Although, acting has never been a challenge for him, has it?

The customer is describing a custom tart she wants made, then pulling out a long list and prattling about this, that, and the other thing. Her accent clearly shows her as a Capitol transfer, and these orders always take forever given that they still have a hard time releasing the concept of not over indulging. But this time I don't plan on complaining.

My tongue begins to move slowly, rubbing carefully along the bottom of his cock while I watch his face carefully. He's smiling at the woman who's still going down the list, his eyes glancing at me to confirm this is what we're doing. With a small nod from me, his hand casually covers his mouth once more and he resumes focus on the woman, his other hand now guiding my head slowly, carefully.

He pulls me to the tip of his dick, working me back and forth slowly on just that spot. My tongue works quickly, my lips wrapping around him tightly to help create proper suction around him while I suck.

"Do you have pumpkin?" The woman asks.

"W- what?" Peeta asks, clearing his throat. "Oh, pumpkin. I'll admit I'm running a little low, it's been a popular request since we don't grow them locally. I've requested more but I don't know if they'll be in in time, so if you want something that uses it you'll have to get it-" his voice cracks as I deepthroat him again, swallowing around him quickly before returning myself to his tip. He clears his throat. "You'll have to reserve it right now," he finishes. I can see him quickly scoop up some of the pie, shoving it in his mouth and trying to hide his blush. It's lucky for us how oblivious Capitol born citizens are.

His hand guides me faster, focusing on fucking his tip near the back of my throat since we both know full well how hitting the back of my throat isn't an option. We can't risk any noise gagging may cause since it may not be covered up by the soft music playing on the shop speakers, a gift from Beetee for the reopening.

His pace is fast, faster than it should be. He's close, smiling at the woman and acting as though everything is normal. His large vein throbs, precum spilling out of him with each new thrust into my mouth. My hand reaches to press two digits against the soft spot behind his balls, a sensitive spot that makes him cry and squirm.

His jaw tightens as I do this, his eyes darting down daggers quickly. I can hear coins on the counter, Peeta accepting the list and opening the register. With the loud 'clank' springing forth from the older device, he takes the chance to slam my face down fully on his cock, his fingers making the coins loudly shift around as he gives the customer her change. Tears spring to my eyes from the sudden force, swallowing around him as I focus on my breathing to recover. He promises the woman he'll do what he can and wishes her a good day, and she coos sweetly. She reaches across the counter, patting his cheek and calling him a sweet boy before turning and walking out of the bakery, the bell chiming at her exit.

Peeta looks down at me, smiling brightly. "Hi," he says with a newfound excitement.

I moan around his cock. He gets it.

"You okay?" He asks, his hands moving to cup my cheeks. I make an affirming noise, trying to smile. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" He asks, his thumbs swiping away the small tears dangling from my bottom lashes. I shake my head, swallowing around him. He moans softly, his grip tightening.

"Yeah, I kinda forgot you like it when I am, don't you?" He asks, beginning to slowly pump his dick in and out of the back of my throat. I moan happily, taking him as easily as I can.

"You know how hard it was not coming down your throat with that lady in here?" He asks. "I had to edge myself so that it wouldn't become known how much I like fucking your throat."

My cunt throbs at his words, his closeness making him willing to be more rough. He starts fucking my face in earnest, tearing noises from both of our throats as he loses himself.

"Can't do that again," he pants. "Next time I'm just taking you. I don't care who walks in." He's moaning openly now, his cock abusing me. I can feel him throbbing, twitching. There's enough precum it's all I can do to focus on swallowing and breathing.

"Show this whole District how much I love you," he babbles. "I'll eat you out on this fucking counter, I don't give a fuck."

I press my heel against my clit, grinding into it to relieve some friction as my hands steady my body against his thighs. The chair underneath of him creeks horribly. If anyone walked in now, I don't even think we'd have a small second to hide what we're doing.

"I love your fucking pussy," he rambles, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. "Love your fucking mouth. You take me so well. So eagerly."

I moan around him, spit dribbling from my mouth, hair stuck to my face. His balls slam against my chin, his wet curls pressing against my nose as he face fucks me like a rabid animal.

"I'm gonna cum down your throat," he announces. "Then you're gonna cum down mine. Again," thrust. "And again," thrust. "Until we don't even have to make dinner from how full we'll be." Goddamn, he's close.

His hands are rough, gripping my face. "Rub your tongue harder," he commands. I do, putting as much pressure as I can on his throbbing vein. He moans loudly, leaning forward and clutching my head.

"I'm coming," he pants, his voice high and tired. "Fuck, I'm coming-!"

His warm, thick load shoots down my throat, filling my mouth so much I cant breathe if I want to swallow it all.

"Such a sweet girl," he praises. "So sweet and good, eager to make me cum." His face is pressed against the cool counter, his chest heaving as he recovers his breath. His thumbs stroke my cheeks at different paces, small whimpers escaping him as I milk him dry with my mouth, making sure not a drop is left behind. When he's fully softened, I place a small kiss on his tip before tucking him back in, rebuttoning his clothes and patting his thighs one more time.

It takes a moment for me to rise, my joints stiff and my mind scrambled from the abuse it had just suffered. I stumble a little as I stand, Peeta's weak arms collecting my body and bringing me into a warm embrace.

"You're wonderful," he whispers, resting his head against my chest. I chuckle softly, placing a soft kiss on the top of his messy hair.

"So are you," I say.

He looks up at me, flushed and smiling at me with the most wonderful, lazy look on his face.

"Your turn," he says, finding a new wave of surprising strength and placing me on the counter.

"Peeta, we're still open," I giggle, batting his hands away.

"I know," he says. "Did you think I was joking?"

He stares at me, smiling and eager as he begins to part my legs.

This is going to be a long night.

���《♡》•

Whoever gets second place on the poll is who I'm writing next. Feel free to send in requests for characters/scenarios! See you next time, you degenerates <3

Masterlist

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo: Chapter One

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @ursinaw  @thisisafish123 and @cenatour wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me!

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

WARNINGS: none for now

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Thank you for everyone on Tumblr and Quotev for guessing! A lot of you have gotten ones right but there no one's gotten all of Heartslaybul (which makes me worry I did badly there)

Now, onto the Hyenas, Lions, and Wolves!

Prologue here

Next chapter here

—----------------------------------

Since the wolves were right across from the lions and hyenas, you would be expected to divide your time equally between the two for your first official day at The Halfling Zoo. That was a pain, since all three of those species were more active at night. 

“You’ll be doing today’s morning feedings, right?” a woman in the zoo’s uniform asked you.

“Yes, for the lions, hyenas, and wolves,” you replied cheerfully.

The woman gave a sigh of relief, “Thank goodness- the lions always look like they’re about to kill you if you make the wrong move. Good luck!”

You stared blankly at her retreating figure. You really wish she hadn’t said that, because now you were absolutely terrified to step foot in that enclosure. Mr. Crowley had said to you yesterday, among all the other welcoming ramblings, that you had to go into each exhibit and give the food directly to the halflings, as opposed to leaving the food near the door and waiting for them to come and grab it.

After the zoo keeper’s “encouraging” words, you decided to give food to the hyenas first.

The hyena halflings were easy to spot- the group of seven or so male halflings sat in a group, talking and laughing loudly. There was one boy in the center of the crowd, waving his hands emphatically as he conversed with his peers.

As soon as you approached the hyena halflings, the mood immediately shifted. The halflings took several steps back, the conversation ceasing at once, all of them staring at you through weary, distrustful eyes.

That’s right- male hyenas are submissive toward females since they are usually aggressive and stronger.

“It’s alright!” you tried to speak as soothingly as possible, putting down the bucket of steaks so you could raise your palms in a non-threatening manner. They watched you carefully, still distrustful.

Finally, the boy from the center of the crowd put his hands behind his head and strolled up nonchalantly, grabbing a steak from the bucket. Although he acted like it was no big deal, you didn’t miss the way he eyed you with a fearful gaze and skirted around you as though you might explode at any moment. 

The other hyena halflings caught on and, walking around you with extreme caution, they managed to fish their meals out of the bucket. The hyena from before came back for a second steak and, not long after, for a third. 

“What’s your name?” you asked him as he fished around for the best steak left in the bucket.

He stopped searching and turned his gaze on you once more. He seemed to size you up for a moment before saying something softly. “What was that?” you asked.

“Ruggie,” he said softly, his ears turning inwards and an annoyed pout making its way to his face.

“I like that name!” you said cheerily. Ruggie eyed you dubiously and finally pulled a steak from the bucket, racing back to the other hyenas. On his way, he looked over his shoulder at you, his gaze uncertain.

You felt like you had made progress.

Now it was time to feed the lions, and the thought made your feet feel like lead. You were not looking forward to a lion halfling murdering you over a steak. 

A part of you wondered if some of the halflings really did prefer this life- or at least, the food. You had learned in class that halflings preferred to eat human food, although they could stomach their animal counterpart’s diet. Halflings, no doubt, preferred these still-warm cooked steaks over raw meat.

You picked up the bucket of steaks and began your journey across the faux savannah. It really was hot in the exhibit and the heavy bucket seemed to weigh you down considerably. Sweat beaded on your forehead and you found it even harder to push yourself across the distance to the lions.

When you finally arrived in front of them, you could feel yourself trembling in fear. In a shaky voice, you called out, “Who wants steaks?”

All of the lions’ eyes turned immediately to the lion halfling lounging across the rock above them. Ah, I get it. They won’t eat until he eats.

Slowly you approached him. You weren’t sure if he was awake until one green eye cracked open and lazily regarded you. You gulped and reached into the bucket, closing your hands around a steak and holding it out to him. He remained lying there, but his eye closed once more.

You began to set the steak next to him when blinding pain shot up your arm, causing you to promptly drop it on the rock. You looked down and saw that the back of your hand was bleeding from four long streaks. The king of the lions was now sitting up, glaring at you, blood dripping from the claws of his right hand.

“How dare you approach me so casually?” he snarled.

You weren’t sure what to do, so you sank into a bow, and murmured, “I’m so sorry.”

The lion gazed down at you, a mixture of surprise and amusement in his eyes. He laid back down, closing his eyes, “Whatever. The rest of you can eat.”

Lions rushed forward, clamoring around the bucket to get the best steaks. The lion on the rock did not reach for his own steak, choosing instead to go back to sleep. You were sorry you disturbed him, and not only because you were now nursing a heavily bleeding hand. The wound was surprisingly deep and you hoped that they had a first aid kit in the office.

A very small lion cub halfling with red hair bounced up to you. Your heart instantly melted at the sight of such an adorable little thing grabbing a steak and smiling up at you. So cute!

“Uncle Leona! Uncle Leona! Are you going to eat your steak or can I have it?” the little halfling asked the lion on the rock.

The lion- Leona, you guessed- glared down at the cub and snatched the steak out of the his reach with a warning growl. While the guttural sound was enough to make you shake in your boots, the cub merely giggled and took a bite of his own steak.

The bucket was empty by the time every lion had taken one. They were big steaks, but you weren’t sure it would be enough to keep them full. You headed back to the keeper’s door with sweat rolling down your cheeks. The heat and dryness may be perfect for the lions and hyenas, but you could barely stand it.

As soon as you were back in the keeper area, you made a beeline for the water cooler. You poured yourself a cup and downed it in a couple seconds. Panting, you filled your cup a second time. You sipped the water a little slower this time, feeling its cooling effects soothe you.

You headed for the nearest first aid kit, conveniently hanging on the wall near the exhibit’s exit. You had a feeling you weren’t the first to need it. You took some bandages from the case and wrapped them around your hand, hissing a little at the pain the pressure caused.

You were ready to face the wolves now. And, as you made your way into their enclosure, you noted with relief that the warm was crisp and cool- the exact opposite of the previous enclosure.

Goosebumps rose on your skin, but you knew that, by the time you had made the trip with the heavy steaks, you’d probably be sweating again. Sure enough, the labor took its toll on your body, your arm aching as you switched the bucket to your other hand.

Deep in the forest now, you could sense eyes on you. Relieved that you had finally found the wolves, you collapsed to the ground. Unprofessional, maybe, but greatly needed. You sat on the soft grass as the wolf halflings began to approach you.

A few had their lips drawn up in a snarl, and one of them called out, “Who are you? You’re not our regular keeper.”

Another wolf was quick to say, “But she’s brought food. Isn’t that all that matters?”

You raised your hands in a peaceful gesture, “I’m a researcher and I’m the one dropping off your food for this morning.”

That seemed to satisfy the wolves. Some of them still glared at you, but they all took their steaks. You looked around at the pack and was surprised to see, among all the gray hair, a head of pure white.

The wolf wasn’t glaring at you, but his expression didn’t give away how he felt at all. He seemed to be eyeing you warily, much like the hyenas. You fished out a steak and held it out to him. His eyes widened a little and he approached you.

“Thank you,” he said in a gruff voice, taking the steak from you. Before you could ask him his name, he disappeared into the crowd of wolves. You weren’t sure why your mind had picked him out from the others, except that his hair was a different color. A little embarrassed by your reaction to him, you held out a steak to another passing wolf, who growled at you in response.

As soon as the enclosure door shut behind you, you sank to the ground, exhausted. That was only the morning feeding- you had a full day (and part of the night) of studying and documenting behavior ahead of you.

[kckt88]

Two Sides Of The Same Coin.

Summary:

Aemond can't stand Y.N and he knows the feeling is mutual, with the pair of them regularly trading insults and snide remarks until one day their disdain for one another reaches boiling point.

Warnings - Angst, Drama, Teasing, Name Calling, Miscommunication, Kissing, Smut - Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Positions, P in V.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x Y.N

Word Count: 3760

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8

Aemond lounged on the worn leather sofa in the shared living room of his apartment, a slight scowl etched on his sharp features.

The dim light from the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the space. He ran a hand through his short silver hair, his gaze flicking towards the door as he heard the familiar, grating sound of Y.N’s laughter.

She was here again. Of course, she was.

His older sister Helaena had invited Y.N over for what seemed like the hundredth time this month.

They had been friends for years, but to Aemond, Y.N was nothing more than a constant thorn in his side. She was always there, always smiling, always ready with a quip or a snide remark. And for some reason, she seemed to delight in riling him up.

As Y.N stepped into the room, her eyes immediately locked onto Aemond’s. She had that infuriatingly confident smirk on her face, the one that made him want to throw something. Anything.

“Look who’s lounging around as per usual,” she teased, tossing her bag onto the coffee table. “Did you do anything productive today, Aemond? Or were you too busy looking in the mirror?”

Aemond’s eyes narrowed, and he sat up straighter, his fingers drumming on the arm of the sofa. “I was enjoying the peace and quiet before you barged in,” he retorted. “Not that you’d understand the concept of peace.”

Helaena, ever the peacekeeper, entered the room with a smile, oblivious to the brewing storm. “Hey, guys! Glad to see you’re getting along as usual.”

Y.N rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, you know us, Helaena. We’re just the best of friends.”

Aemond snorted. “If by friends, you mean sworn enemies, then sure.”

Helaena sighed, shaking her head as she headed to the kitchen. “Try not to kill each other while I make some tea, okay?”

As soon as she was out of earshot, Y.N plopped down on the sofa next to Aemond, deliberately sitting closer than necessary. “You know, Aemond,” she said, her tone mockingly sweet, “Maybe if you smiled more, you might actually look approachable.”

“And if you talked less, you might actually be tolerable,” he shot back, crossing his arms over his chest.

Helaena sighed, placing the tray on the table between them. “Can’t you two at least try to be civil?”

Y.N. raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’m always civil. It’s Aemond who’s the grump.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so insufferable,” Aemond snapped.

“Maybe if you weren’t so uptight,” she countered, taking a sip of her tea.

Aemond had just finished a long, hot shower and had barely managed to slip into a pair of gray sweatpants when he heard a knock at the door. His damp blonde hair clung to his forehead as he walked through the apartment, the cool air hitting his still-wet skin.

He opened the door, expecting to see a delivery or a neighbour, but was instead greeted by Y.N.

Aemond rolled his eyes, for fuck sake, here she is again. The red hue of her newly dyed hair radiated in the light of the hallway, the piercing in her nose glinting slightly and those damn beaded bracelets that kept clacking together every time she moved her hand.

Y.N.’s eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of him, her gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary, on his lithe form, the smattering of hair that decorated his chest, the silver chain that hung around his neck. Aemond noticed and couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Enjoying the view?” asked Aemond, his voice low and teasing.

Y.N. snapped her eyes back up to his face, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here for Helaena.”

“Well, Hel’s not here, she’s at work,” Aemond replied, leaning against the doorframe, his smirk widening.

“I know she’s at work,” Y.N. retorted, holding up a bag filled with books. “She asked me to pick these up from the library. I’m just dropping them off for her”.

Aemond smirked as he closed the door behind Y.N.

He watched as she put the books on the table and arranged them into a neat pile, his gaze focused on the way her dress rode up her thighs as she bent over slightly.

“What does Hel need them for anyway?” asked Aemond.

“Well, some people like to read-“

“An interesting concept, I honestly didn’t know you could read” mocked Aemond.

“I read more than you-“ quipped Y.N.

Aemond’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, taking in her appearance. “Have you done something different?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual as he looked her up and down.

Y.N. raised an eyebrow as she turned to face him. “What are you talking about?”

"There's something about you-" muttered Aemond.

"Well I-" muttered Y.N as she ran a hand through her hair.

Aemond’s lips curved into a smirk as he leaned back, his gaze settling on her face. “Oh, I see. You’ve finally had your upper lip waxed.”

Y.N.'s eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening. "Funny. And here I thought you were going to say something actually clever for once."

Aemond shrugged, his smirk unfaltering. "It’s hard to be clever when the response would be so basic-Not really something I can take seriously"

Y.N. crossed her arms over her chest, a wicked glint in her eye. "Well, it’s hard to take you seriously when you spend more time on your hair care routine than anyone else I know, Mr. scented oils and hair serums, is it true that you used to straighten your hair before you got it cut-"

Aemond’s smirk vanished, replaced by a glare. "At least I take care of myself. Unlike some people."

"Sure, if taking care of yourself means smelling like an overly used perfume shop and spending half your life in front of a mirror," Y.N. retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I’d rather smell good than look like I just rolled out of bed," Aemond shot back, his tone icy.

"Oh please, you look like you spend hours trying to get that 'effortlessly perfect' look," Y.N. replied, mimicking air quotes with her fingers. "Newsflash, it’s not working."

Aemond stepped closer, his eyes blazing with irritation. "And you think your look is working? Please. You’re a walking disaster."

Y.N. took a step closer as well, her eyes flashing with anger. "Better a walking disaster than a walking ego trip. You’re so obsessed with your appearance it’s quite pathetic."

Aemond’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. "At least I have something to be proud of. What do you have, besides a big mouth and a bad attitude?"

Y.N. glared at him, her voice low and dangerous. "I have more than you’ll ever understand, Aemond Targaryen. And for the record, I’d rather have a big mouth and a bad attitude than be an insufferable, self-absorbed dickhead."

“Tell me, are you naturally this stuck up, or did it take you years of practice?"

"I’m not the one who’s stuck up. You’re the one who struts around like you’re all that” snarled Y.N.

Aemond stepped closer, his expression taunting. "Me? You’re the one who walks around acting like you’re all that, when in reality, you’re about this much of that." He held his fingers a mere inch apart, emphasizing his point.

"Nice hand gesture," taunted Y.N, a sly smile spreading across her lips. "Is that the size of your cock, because I think your being far too generous.”

"What?-"

"Don't be too disheartened-it's a medical condition you know, it's called micro penis" laughed Y.N as she wiggled her little finger.

Aemond’s expression darkened, his smirk vanishing as fury flared in his eyes. In a heartbeat, he closed the distance between them, his hand shooting out to grab her by the throat.

He slammed her against the wall, the impact causing a picture frame to rattle precariously.

“Say that again,” he hissed, his grip firm but not painful, his face inches from hers.

Y.N.’s breath hitched, her defiance flickering into something else entirely as their eyes locked. For a moment, they were frozen, the air around them charged with a potent mix of anger and something far more dangerous.

“Make me,” whispered Y.N, her voice challenging but breathless.

Aemond’s response was swift and unexpected. He crashed his lips onto hers, the kiss rough and demanding, fuelled by their unresolved tension.

Y.N. responded in kind, her hands gripping his shoulders as she kissed him back fiercely. It was messy, all teeth and tongues, their anger translating into a passion they could no longer deny.

Her back pressed against the wall, Aemond's body pinning her in place as their mouths battled for dominance. Y.N. bit his lower lip, eliciting a low growl from him. He retaliated by deepening the kiss, his hands sliding down her body to grip her waist.

Just as abruptly as it began, Aemond pulled away, his breath ragged. He pressed his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. His heart pounded in his chest, the heat of the moment still thrumming through his veins.

Y.N. smirked, her lips curling up as she looked into his eyes. "Is that all you got?" she taunted, her voice a low, teasing whisper.

Aemond growled as he spun Y.N around and pressed her face against the wall, with one hand on the back of her neck and the other quickly pushing down his sweatpants and boxers.

“I’ll show you what I’ve got-“ rasped Aemond as he nudged her ankle with his foot, signalling for her to open her legs wider.

His body covered hers as he sucked and licked the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Y.N moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth digging into her skin.

Not having the patience to properly prepare her, Aemond spat into his hand reaching down to run it up and down the hard length of himself, eyeing Y.N with an animalistic hunger, a smirk on his lips as she bent forward for him.

He rucked up the dress she was wearing and pulled aside her knickers as he guides himself to her entrance, she barely has a moment to adjust before he is pressing his cock forcefully inside and stretching her brutally, causing her to cry out.

“FUCKING TAKE IT!” spits Aemond.

Y.N can’t think of anything but the intense pounding thrusts that greet her, causing her to wail and moan, causing the tears form in her eyes, before running down her cheeks.

Aemond sets a brutal pace, his hips crashing into hers, his fingers digging into her hips as he pushes and pulls her against him.

His cock reaching deep inside her, the sting of being stretched by him now giving way to a pleasurable ache.

Then he withdraws from her and spins her around, lifting her into his arms, his mouth pressed against hers as he quickly thrusts back inside her.

“YES! YES! AEMOND!” screams Y.N. as she claws at his back.

“FUCK!” shouts Aemond as he feels her cunny clenching around his cock.

“P-Please. Oh Please. Yes-yes” babbled Y.N ignoring the pain in her back as the force of Aemond’s thrusts kept slamming her into the wall.

“That’s it-” encouraged Aemond his gaze rooted to the place where they were joined, transfixed by the sight of her cunt stretched around his cock.

“Oooh-please-please” muttered Y.N

But then, his thrust begin to slow, and he withdraws from her, making her whimper in frustration.

But Aemond ignores her as he lays her on the sofa and falls to his knees.

Sliding his hands up her legs, bunching the fabric of her knickers in his hand before he rips them from her body.

“Aemond” shrieked Y.N as Aemond’s mouth quickly descends on her cunny.

Ravenously, he pressed into Y.N’s core with his tongue, in and out, much faster than his cock ever could.

Still gasping, Y.N clutched at his head with one hand, her other digging into the fabric of the sofa.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips. He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.

Y.N ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

Aemond growled, deep in his throat. The vibration of his vocal cords rippled through to his tongue and Y.N gasped; she felt every vibration keenly. Her body tensed for her peak– But Aemond pulled away from her and smirked, his chin shining with her slick.

“A-Aemond” gasped Y.N, the tears of frustration spilling down her cheeks.

“Be a good little girl and take what I give you” said Aemond as he reached for the buttons on the front of her dress before he grew impatient and tore it from her body, leaving her breasts bared.

A loud moan erupted from the back of his throat at the sight of Y.N’s perfect breasts, he leaned forward and took one of her rosy nipples into his mouth, sucking on the stiffened peak before he bit her.

“Ooooh Aemond-“ whined Y.N as she writhed against him, he smirked as he released her nipple and moved across lavishing the other one with the same attention.

“P-Please-” sobbed Y.N as she felt his hard cock sliding against her folds.

“Hmm” growled Aemond as he wrapped his hand around Y.N’s throat and sheathed himself inside her.

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Y.N.

He began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts.

“Your cunt is dripping, it's so beautiful” sighed Aemond.

Slowly thrusting back and forth. Over and over, withdrawing further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her warm wet entrance.

“Tell me you want me-“ growled Aemond as he ran the head of his cock through her wet folds.

“I want you” exclaimed Y.N.

“Tell me you need me” whispered Aemond as he sheathed himself back inside her.

“I need you-“ muttered Y.N as one of Aemond’s hands slid up her body and wrapped around her throat.

Aemond smiled and then began to fuck her in earnest, his fingers digging into the flesh of her throat, using her as leverage as he repeatedly plunged his cock into her cunny, over, thrilled to hear Y.N’ moans of need echoing around the living room.

His thrusts, brutal and unrelenting.

“Come for me-” breathed Aemond.

Y.N. screamed as her desperately needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her body bucked around Aemond’s cock.

Gods, he needed to spill his seed, but not like this.

So, with his cock still nestled inside her, Aemond manoeuvred himself into a sitting position with Y.N on his lap.

“Give me another-I want you to come on my cock again” growled Aemond.

Y.N ran her hands over the defined muscles of his chest, her nails digging into his pale skin.

“That’s it-mark me fucking harder” growled Aemond, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as Y.N ran her nails across his skin.

“Oh” gasped Y.N as she rolled her hips against Aemonds.

“That’s it baby, take it. Take all of me-good girl”.

Aemond placed his hands on Y.N’ hips and marvelled at Y.N as she bounced on top of him.

“S-so good-Aemond-“ whimpered Y.N.

“I-I’m never leaving this sweet cunt-“ moaned Aemond.

Y.N slid her hands over his shoulders and coiled her fingers into his silver hair as she moved her hips against his, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside her perfectly.

“A-Aemond” moaned Y.N as he moved his hand to her breasts and once again took one of her nipples into his mouth, his teeth gently grazing the rosy bud.

“Let go baby, I can feel you clenching around me” exclaimed Aemond, as he moved to the other breast.

Y.N’ thighs began to burn, as she felt her second peak approach.

“AEMOND” screamed Y.N her vision going white as she came around his cock.

“I-I’m gonna cum. W-where s-shall I?” exclaimed Aemond, the tension in his abdomen was about to burst.

“I-Inside me-please-I take pills-” whined Y.N.

 “FUUUCCCKKK” roared Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he finally spilled his seed inside her, collapsing against the sofa, breathing hard.

It took a good while for Aemond to regain his senses. Meanwhile Y.N had collapsed against him, her face pressed into his neck.

After a few minutes Y.N began to squirm in Aemond’s grasp, her senses rapidly returning.

She’s just had sex with Aemond. The same Aemond who annoyed her, the same Aemond who never missed an opportunity to wind her up, the same Aemond who’s cock was still buried deep inside her.

Y.N began to panic, would this change things between them or would he use this against her, she didn’t want to find out, she didn’t want to look in his eyes and see that he regretted what they had done, so she tried to move away from his hot sweaty body, but his grip on her tightened.

“Where do you think your going-I haven’t finished with you yet” growled Aemond, his cock growing hard inside of her once more.

“A-Aemond” breathed Y.N.

“I told you that I wasn’t leaving your sweet cunt and I meant it-I’m going to take you to my bed and fuck you so many times tonight that you’ll not be able to walk straight tomorrow”.

Later that night, Aemond lay beside Y.N. in the dimly lit bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting gentle shadows across their entwined forms. The room was filled with the quiet sounds of their shared breaths, a stark contrast to the passionate chaos that had erupted between them earlier.

Y.N. slept soundly, her long red hair fanned out across the pillow like a fiery halo. Aemond couldn’t help but admire the vibrant strands, the way they framed her serene face.

He traced his gaze over her delicate features, lingering on her plump lips, slightly parted as she breathed deeply. The softness of her skin tempted him to touch, to memorize every curve and contour.

His fingers moved slowly, almost reverently, as they traced the flowery tattoo on her hip. He marvelled at the contrast between the toughness she displayed during their confrontations and the softness he now felt beneath his fingertips.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, yet he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. The day had been a revelation. He had never wanted any other woman the way he wanted Y.N.

His desire for her was ravenous and unrestrained, a primal hunger that had taken him by surprise. He had experienced passion before, but nothing like this—nothing that consumed him so completely.

Fucking her in the living room had done nothing to quell the fire within him, he had brought her back to his room and fucked her four more times.

Aemond’s mind wandered back to the intensity of their kisses, the way their bodies had moved together as if they were made for each other. He had felt alive, every nerve ending electrified by her touch. The connection they had forged was undeniable, transcending the petty insults and animosity that had defined their previous interactions.

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder, careful not to wake her. As he settled back against the pillows, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She stirred slightly, her body instinctively moving his, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

For the first time in a long while, Aemond felt a sense of peace. The anger and frustration that had always simmered between them had transformed into something deeper, something he couldn’t quite define but knew he wanted to explore further.

He closed his eyes, allowing the exhaustion to finally take over, his last conscious thought a realization that shook him to his core: he had never experienced anything like this before, and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to let it go.

The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains as Y.N. stirred in Aemond's bed. She carefully disentangled herself from his arms, glancing at his serene, sleeping face. Trying not to wake him, she slid out from under the covers, her feet touching the cool floor, but just as she was about to stand up, a strong hand clasped her wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Aemond’s voice was husky with sleep but firm.

Y.N. turned to see him sitting up, his silver hair tousled, his intense gaze fixed on her. “I thought I’d sneak out before you woke up,” she admitted with a small, guilty smile.

“Not happening. After last night, I’m not letting you go that easily.”

Y.N allowed herself to be pulled back into the bed, settling beside him. “I thought you hated me,” she said softly, searching his face for answers.

Aemond shook his head, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek. “I never hated you, Y.N. I don’t know what it was, but it was never hate. Last night opened my eyes to what I’ve been blind to all this time. My perfect woman has been right in front of me.”

Y.N.’s breath hitched at his words, her heart pounding in her chest. “Are you saying you want to be with me?”

“If you’re willing,” he said, his voice earnest. “I want to explore a relationship between us. I want this, and I want you.”

A smile spread across Y.N.’s face, her eyes softening. “I’d like that too.”

Aemond leaned in to kiss her, his lips just brushing hers when her stomach let out a loud grumble. They both froze for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Well, I would like to get something to eat,” Y.N. said between giggles, “But I don’t think I can walk properly.”

Aemond’s laughter echoed through the room, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “What can I say, love? I’m a man of my word.”

They lay back down, their laughter subsiding into comfortable silence. Aemond wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Y.N. snuggled against his chest, feeling a sense of contentment she had never known before.

As they lay there, tangled in each other’s arms, they both knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. And for the first time, their banter and bickering felt like the foundation of something real and lasting, something neither of them wanted to let go.

The End.

[sovasleepy]

books and bonsai

[ omen x gn!reader ] - you both have your separate hobbies, but omen seems to love yours just as much as you do

tags: just fluff. reader loves books and reading (implied that the current book is fiction but i tried to keep it ambiguous)

notes: requested by @krokrux ! i hope you enjoy :)

“eccentric” and “extroverted” were probably not the best words to describe omen. he was a man of few words, and often times simply a man of several low growling noises.

not to say that you hated those things about him. not even remotely. it was refreshing, really.

it’s no secret that the hustle and bustle of days spent living at kingdom headquarters were… a lot. someone was always awake, whether that be a guard or simply a coworker fighting sleep. training was hard and tensions were tight most days. missions were tiring and often ended with several injuries. even the slow days where you could sleep in and training was minimal weren’t easy. there was something about the cold, metal environment of the headquarters that took away the “home” feeling of it.

one place that did make you feel better was the nearest comfy spot to read a book. today, that just so happened to be a sofa in a lounge room. the pillows and cushions were soft, but the back support good and the blankets cozy.

omen sat at a nearby table. he had a little bonsai tree situated in front of him and small pair of pruning scissors in his hand. normally, if someone was already occupying the space, you would have left.

however, omen was quiet and the sofa looked a little too inviting. you could enjoy each others company without disturbing each other, right?

you had been reading for a while whenever omen finally stood from his chair. you’d been a little too engrossed in what you were reading, and it took you a second to blink back to what was actually happening. the phantom took a few tentative steps toward you. he was quiet for a few beats before he finally spoke.

“can i sit?” he asked. one hand made the slightest inclination toward the seat next to you on the sofa.

you nodded and pulled your feet in a little to give him space. “oh, sure. how’s your tree?”

“good. your book?”

“it’s going good, i like this book. although the main character is kinda pissing me off. i know it’s supposed to be a personality trait or whatever but— yeah, it’s a good book.” you stopped before letting yourself go off on a tangent.

there were another few beats of silence. he tilted his head ever so slightly, as if asking for you to elaborate. when you didn’t, he leaned slightly closer and pretended to read the words on the page, although he wasn’t paying much attention.

“tell me.” he said, leaning back to where he had been before and looking over to you expectantly.

“tell you what? about the character?”

“the book.” omen said. “you seem to like it.”

you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. you would jump at any chance to tell someone about whatever book you had read or read about that day, but the offer being laid out to you sparked a warmth in your chest.

you weren’t sure how long you had been talking, but it had to have been a while. your mouth was dry, but you had managed to spill out every single coherent (and some incoherent) thought you’d had about the book thus far. and you couldn’t be happier about it, either.

omen hummed when you finished. he didn’t say anything, except mutter a small “thank you,” before collecting his bonsai and leaving the room. you settled back into the spot you had been before, and continued reading.

the interaction had been strange to you, but you tried not to think too hard about it. of all people, omen was one of the last you expected to hold a conversation with, although was it even a conversation? had he even enjoyed it? or did he grow tired halfway through?

in all honesty, you had presumed the latter.

that was until the next afternoon, anyway. you heard a small knock on your bedroom door, and padded over to open it. in the hallway stood omen, bonsai tree and pruning scissors in tow.

“hey,” you smiled. “what’s up?”

“can i…” he trailed off for a moment while he thought of what to say. then, he held up his bonsai tree and nodded towards it, indicating he was referring to it. “…and you tell me about your book?”

it would be a while before you realized that he wasn’t actually pruning his bonsai most of the time. you weren’t sure how often they needed to be trimmed, but it definitely wasn’t every day, and not for that long. you wondered if he give up the farce and just admit that he liked listening to you talk about something you enjoyed, but you supposed it didn’t really matter. if he wanted to pretend to prune his tree just to listen to you, you weren’t going to complain.

[bluebeary-jay]

Midnight kisses

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Jackson celebrates the New Year’s Eve, and you're thinking about finally confessing to your crush how much you like him. but Joel Miller, the object of your affections, might have other plans in mind. (based on this adorable request!!)

Tags: FLUFF my beloved 🥰, Joel is very flirty in this one, lots of crushinggg, just old sweet mutual pining (also they're both lovesick idiots)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and being drunk, jealousy, age difference

Word count: 5.4K

A/N: i had a lot of fun with this one 🥰 thank you so much once again for the request, dear, i hope you'll like what i came up with. (btw this was supposed to be a short fic but it seems i'm unable to write one 😔) still i hope yall will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The party was in a full swing.

You didn’t expect anything else from the Jackson community. Ever since you arrived here, you were astounded by the effort that the people living in this small town were making to create a life as normal and joyous as possible – for their children and themselves. And today, on New Year’s Eve, they outdid themselves. There was food, music and drinks – almost as if the apocalypse outside those walls never happened.

You were sitting by one of the tables, sipping on your beverage while you waited for your friend, Angie, to arrive. Dancing alone didn’t sound like an appealing idea, so while you waited for her, you opted for some people-watching – though if you were honest with yourself, it was more like ‘person-watching’.

Your eyes strayed to a figure on the opposite side of the room for like a twentieth time, but you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to. Because there stood a man who still, even after more than a year of knowing him, made the butterflies in your stomach take flight.

Joel Miller.

He looked really good in a clean flannel and fitting jeans, you conceded. His hair was slightly wet, like he washed it just before coming to the party, and combed a little to the back, making the silver strands in his hair and beard shine in the low lights. You found yourself unable to look away or get rid of that stupid grin on your face that lingered when Joel smiled lopsidedly at something his brother said. The muscles in his arm bulged when he lifted his glass to take a sip, and you watched the lines of his neck when his throat bobbed...

“You’re ogling,” murmured a voice next to your ear, and you jumped a little in surprise. Next to you stood Angie, smirking at you.

“Jesus, Angie.” You put your hand on your chest, your heart pounding rapidly. “A ’hello’ would be nice.”

Your friend knew, of course, about your massive crush on Joel Miller, and you thought more than a year of pining on your part would cause her to grow bored of all the jokes and teasing that she threw your way. Apparently, you were wrong.

“Hello,” she said, then sat down on the other chair and leaned closer to you with a wide smile. “You’re ogling. In a room full of people, may I add.”

“I’m not,” you murmured defensibly, but your face grew warm at the realization that she caught you. “How long have you been standing here, anyway?”

“Like half a minute. By the way, you’re also drooling.”

“I’m not!” you repeated, now in an irritated whisper. You knew you weren’t drooling, but still had to refrain yourself from wiping your mouth, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. “Stop making things up.”

“You should just go talk to him.” Angie casually nodded in Joel’s direction. “He didn’t come with a date, sooo…”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s waiting for someone.”

“Uh, duh!” Angie flicked you on the forehead, and you hissed. “For you to make a move. You can… oh, I know!” she bounced in her seat excitedly and clapped her hands. “Ask him to dance with you!”

You almost snorted. “Joel Miller dancing? Sure. He wouldn’t agree even if he did like me.”

“He does like you. Jesus, you flirt with each other all the time.” The smile disappeared from her lips and she rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you’d have to be blind and deaf not to notice. And maybe dead.”

“There’s no flirting, I told you.” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at the object of your affection. “He talks in this way to everyone.”

“He never called me ‘darling’,” Angie retorted. “Or gave me his jacket when we got caught up in the rain.”

You smiled softly at the memory, but that just made you feel even more hopeless, because since that day, you weren’t able to have a normal conversation with the man you liked so much.

“What do I do?” you whined, leaning on the table. “He’s so beautiful. And he for sure doesn’t see me that way.”

“Are you drunk already? You said you didn’t want a repeat from–”

“–from last year, yeah,” you finished for her and sighed. “I’m not drunk, just feeling down. There’s no way I’ll be able to tell him I like him, Angie.”

“Maybe you won’t have to.” Your friend nudged you gently. “You can just inconspicuously take him under one of the mistletoe and go ‘oh, what’s that?’, and then…”

“What mistletoe?” you asked, only now looking up at the ceiling where familiar-looking leaves were tied with a string to the support beams under the ceiling and above the doors. “Why is there mistletoe hanging?” you asked skeptically. “It’s a New Year’s Eve party.”

“I think they haven’t taken it down since last week.” Angie shrugged, but then grinned at you. “Don’t you think it’s a sign, though? So many places to kiss your crush under~...”

“Jesus, keep your voice down,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands again. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re impossible,” she mocked in a low voice. “I’m trying to help.”

“I know, babe,” you whined, and sighed heavily again. “You know what, maybe I should just forget it. Let’s go have fun, dance, and later throw up from all the food and…”

Suddenly, Angie interrupted you with a high noise in her throat. You gave her a questioning look and she looked at you with a tight-lipped smile and wide eyes.

“He’s coming here.”

“What?!” You automatically turned around before Angie hissed for you not to look, and sure enough, there was Joel Miller, making his way through the crowd with his eyes locked on you. “Oh my god,” you breathed, clutching at your friend’s hand. “He must’ve seen us talking. What do I do?”

“You sit there and look smoking hot, and let him flirt with you,” she answered with confidence you didn’t feel. “And maybe you won’t even need to ask for the kiss, maybe he’ll do it for–” Her eyes darted above your shoulder. “Oh, hey, Miller.”

You gulped and took a deep breath before turning around and– oh, God, he looked even better up close.

Angie kicked you lightly under the table when you didn’t say anything, and you cleared your throat, smiling up at the man you were so crazy about. “Uhm, hi, Jo– Mr Miller.”

“Didn’t I tell you to call me by my name, sugar?” He had kind of a boyish smile on his face that made him look younger and even more handsome, which in turn made your stomach fill with warmth. He sat down next to you, and his eyes scanned you down and back up, slowly, lingering on your legs and curves just for a second longer. “You look lovely.” He then glanced at Angie, sending her a nod. “Both of you.”

“Really?” you beamed, and Angie kicked your ankle again, making you wince. “Uhm, thanks. You clean up nicely yourself.”

A trace of smirk ran across his face, but it was gone before you could make sure it was really there in the first place.

“Are you enjoyin’ the party?” he asked casually, hiding one hand in the front pocket of his jeans. Your eyes followed his movement before you caught yourself.

“Y-yeah, it’s nice. A little too loud for me, but really nice.”

“Maybe you wanna step outside for a bit, then?” Joel nodded in the direction of the deck in the back, and your heart started beating faster.

Did he want to be alone with you? Or was just being polite and preferred to talk somewhere quieter, and you were getting your hopes up unnecessarily? You hoped it was the first, that he genuinely enjoyed chatting with you as much as you did with him – but you never knew with a man like Joel Miller. He was an enigma, sometimes serious and so stoic that you couldn’t for the world figure out what was going on in his head, and other times charming and teasing, making you weak in the knees when he was looking at you with that fiery glint in his eyes…

“Sugar?” Joel asked, lifting his eyebrows with what seemed to be amusement, and you cursed yourself mentally for spacing out.

“Sorry, I… Yes, let’s– sure, let’s go.”

All of you stood up and you looked over your shoulder at Angie with a panicked face, but instead of reassuring you, she sent you a quick, sly grin.

“You two go ahead,” she chirped. “I’m gonna go look for my date.”

“Angie–” you whispered, giving her a look, but the woman just winked and turned around, disappearing into the crowd of dancing people. “Angie!”

Before you could go after her, you felt a big, warm hand on the small of your back, and your entire body tensed. Joel leaned over to your ear, whispering in a low voice.

“Shall we?”

“Yeah,” you squealed, so quietly he probably didn’t hear it over the loud music. “Sure.”

Your legs moved on their own, going where he guided you. The walk to the terrace in the back lasted no longer than fifteen seconds, but it felt like hours had passed. You were very aware of the light pressure of his fingertips on your back, with only one layer of material separating your skin from his, and the nerves of feeling him so close behind you were making you walk stiffly and oddly – though, miraculously, he didn’t seem to notice.

“I don’t like how loud the music is, either,” Joel said after you two exited the main room, and he closed the door. Then he glanced at you again, his eyes flicking to your bare legs just for a second longer. “Are you cold?”

“No,” you answered truthfully. Not only was it nice to feel the cool air after sitting in a stuffy room with a crowd of people for so long, but also you still felt warm from Joel’s closeness. “I’m alright.” Joel nodded absentmindedly, and you squinted. “Did you want to talk about something or…”

“Nah, just wanted to escape for a minute.” He rubbed his beard and shrugged, but there was tightness to his body language. “Not much to do in there except for drinkin’.”

“And dancing,” you cut in.

Joel glanced at you, and the lazy smirk returned onto his features.

“You like to dance, sweet girl?” he asked, and you felt your face growing hot when you heard his tone. Low, drawling and oh, so delicious.

“If the party is good, yes, I guess so.” Then you remembered what Angie suggested earlier, and you took a shaky breath, mustering all the courage you had in you. “We… if you want, we could dance a little later, if they play something nice…?”

But the hot nerves in your chest turned to cold disappointment when Joel started to shake his head with a chuckle. “Nah, darlin’. Sorry, I don’t… I’m no dancer.”

“Noone here is,” you retorted, a bit hurt by how quick his rejection was. “It’s just for fun.”

“I know better ways to have fun than t’make an idiot of myself in front of bunch of people.”

“Like what?”

Of course, you just had to ask.

Joel smirked, as if he was just waiting for it, and took a step forward, forcing you to take one backwards. His brown eyes bored into yours, making you weak in your knees, and you promptly turned your gaze away, not able to withstand the tension in the air. With a cough, you walked up to the wooden railing, pretending that you weren’t feeling sheepish at all.

“For one, talkin’ here with you is fun enough for me.”

You forced yourself to look at Joel when you heard it, just to see if he’s joking, but the man appeared genuine. He leaned against the rails, his hand right next to your shoulder, and you couldn’t get rid of the thought of how easy it’d be for him to cage you in this spot with his strong arms, how he’d make your entire body tremble…

But you weren’t quite sure yet if he was being sweet or just tried to mess with you, so you decided that a teasing response would be the best course of action.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged lightly. “I’d still like to find someone to dance with tonight.”

At that, Joel’s hand gripped the railing tighter and his body stiffened. You had to hide a triumphant smirk on your face, pleased that you managed to throw him off his game – whatever it was that he was playing.

“One of your friends?” In your peripheral vision you saw him lifting his eyebrows with the faintest of scowls. “Or one of those shady guys sittin’ at the bar, staring at pretty girls like you? ’Cause they’re no good for you, darlin’.”

“Oh, really?” you scoffed and lifted your chin, feeling touched that Joel was acting so protective – (and maybe even… jealous?) – about what you said. “You were the one that didn’t want to dance. What do you know about what’s good for me, anyway?”

“Those guys won’t treat you right. They just want a girl to spend the night with, and you deserve better than that.”

He was right, of course, but it didn’t mean you were going to openly give him his due. You made an acknowledging noise, not really sure what to say, but Joel didn’t seem to mind. He continued in a quiet, raspy voice that sent shivers down your spine. “You deserve someone who’d take real good care of you, darlin’. Not some drunk out of their ass idiot.”

“Are you drunk, Mr Miller?” you asked, not looking at him in fear he’ll see how red his words made you, though you could still see his smirk in the corner of your eye.

“No.”

“You act like you are.”

“C’mon, sugar, look at me.” He took your chin between his fingers and your body went rigid. His warm gaze met yours for just a second, and he tilted his head forward a little. “Do I look drunk?”

“A little.” You turned your head away, but he tsked and guided your chin back.

“In the eyes, darlin’.” You gulped at his words, and his dark, brown irises twinkled in the fairy lights dangling from the roof and walls. “And call me Joel, please.”

His chest was almost touching yours, and you felt the wooden railing digging into your lower back, but at that moment you didn’t mind at all. Joel was so close, and your breath hitched in your throat when you got enveloped in his earthy smell, with a tinge of bonfire and… was that cologne? For some reason the discovery that he used cologne for tonight made your heart flutter.

But as much as you loved every second of being so close to him, you remembered that you weren’t alone on the terrace. There was a pair of people talking – well, now kissing, judging by the sound of it – and your eyes darted to the side to see if they were looking at you both. “Come on, there are people here. It’s not…”

The man clicked his tongue in disapproval and moved slightly closer, now practically pinning you against the railing with his body, and you squealed unwillingly when he, once again, made you look at him.

“Eyes on me.”

And God, if it wasn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen or heard. It was unfair how much power his gaze and tone wielded over you.

“Okay,” you managed to whimper, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards, creating that adorable dimple in his cheek.

“And my name, sugar.”

You didn't know why you were complying so easily, but something about the softness and tenderness in his voice made you feel safe. He wouldn’t hurt you, of that you were absolutely sure.

“Okay, Joel.”

His thumb brushed the edge of your bottom lip with the softest of touches, making your legs almost turn to jelly. It made you want to say his name again, though in a much more needy tone.

“That’s a good girl,” Joel murmured with a smirk, never looking away.

Lord, have mercy.

You were so grateful for the wooden rails behind your back, because you were sure you’d collapse any second now if he kept looking at you like that.

“I… Joel…”

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he murmured without taking his eyes off of you for even a second. Your brain was mush at this point, but even if you could formulate any words, you doubt you’d ask him to step away. So you settled on shaking your head slightly, to which Joel nodded. “Lemme know immediately if it changes, darlin’.”

How could you be so blind? All you could think about was that Angie was right – there was no way Joel Miller wasn’t flirting with you. Maybe he even liked you. Maybe – just maybe – he wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him.

“Didn’t you wanna… get back to the party?”

You didn’t make any move to get away yourself, however, not wanting him to drop the arm with which he was holding your chin. The material of his shirt was bulging over the lines of his biceps, and it felt really nice to stand so close to him.

“I’m in no rush.” Joel’s voice dipped, and your insides tightened. “You?”

“No, but–”

“Here you are, you ol’ fucker!”

Joel took a step back, and you both turned to see his younger brother walking clumsily through the door with a big, drunken grin on his face. You cleared your throat, still breathless and blushed, but both Millers didn’t pay you any mind anymore.

“Tommy.” Joel’s face was like made out of stone, but his eyes were betraying how irritated he was with the interruption.

“You thought you’d manage to get away, ya old dog?” Tommy hooked an arm around his older brother’s shoulders and finally looked at you to send you a wink. “Sorry, sweetheart, gotta borrow ‘im for a second. He has a date to get to.”

It took you a couple of seconds to register that yes, you heard him right. A heavy veil of hurt and disbelief slowly fell down on you, and your eyes started to prickle as you looked from Tommy to Joel.

“A date?”

He had a date. Why then did he talk and act this way with you, making you feel like you ever had a chance with him?

“C’mon, don’t keep a lady waiting,” Tommy said to Joel instead of answering you, and tugged the other man back inside, but Joel didn’t move. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even get lucky tonight!”

That you couldn’t listen to.

Trying to hide how painful his words were to you, you ducked your head and tried to slip past the brothers, desperate to get out of here. A hand – which felt so achingly familiar now – shot out and grabbed your elbow before you could escape. You lifted your tearful eyes only to meet Joel’s sorrowful ones.

“Darlin’, wait. It’s not…”

“No, it’s okay,” you interrupted him, tearing your gaze away. “I wanted to go to the bathroom, anyway.”

Joel looked like he wanted to say something else, but you couldn’t bear being in his and Tommy’s presence any longer. You slipped out of his grasp, quickly coming back inside and navigating your way to the bathrooms.

He had a date for tonight. And still he flirted with you and touched you so lovingly, and… and almost…

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! To think you ever had a chance.

You dashed into the bathroom and quickly opened the first free stall you saw, then shut it behind you. There you just slumped against the wall and wrapped your arms around yourself, giving in to the flow of your tears, but trying not to make a sound.

You felt so foolish for letting yourself fall under Joel Miller’s spell, for ignoring that he obviously couldn’t be interested in someone like you.

He probably saw you as a dumb child. No wonder he’d prefer someone else, probably a woman closer to his own age.

But why did he have to be so cruel, to lead you on and hint that…

No, you realized. It was your own damn fault for letting your heart justify his every action towards you.

Almost ten minutes must’ve passed before you got a grip on yourself and decided to go find Angie. You needed to talk to someone, preferably distract yourself from the unpleasant situation you had to experience, and maybe try to salvage the evening somehow. With that in mind you took a couple of breaths, wiped your eyes and then hesitantly exited the bathroom.

You only managed to take a couple of steps, however, before your eyes were drawn to a familiar and beautiful side profile. You wished you didn’t know his face so well, because then you wouldn’t see Joel whispering something to a stunning woman you didn’t know at the far end of the room. She was hanging off his arm, bright eyes and a million-dollars smile directed solely at him. Joel appeared to be looking around, but a few seconds later he put his hand on the small of the woman’s back – just as he did earlier with you – and started walking. Neither of them looked your way before exiting through the front door and leaving the party.

As well as a gaping hole in your heart.

*****

A few minutes later you managed to find Angie. You were a mess at this point, barely able to stop yourself from sobbing. It was truly pathetic.

“I don’t know her name. But I saw them leaving, and she was hanging off his arm and–” you choked on your words and gave a humorless laugh. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“I’m so sorry, hon.” Angie looked at you sadly. “We can ditch the party if you want. Go to my place and watch some movies,” she suggested gently, but you were already shaking your head.

“No, no. I’m fine, really, I… I think I'll just go home. But you should stay with your girlfriend.” Angie looked like she was about to protest, but you squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I promise I’m okay. I’m just gonna go straight back home and lock myself inside with a bowl of ice-cream. Or go to sleep.”

“I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“I… I think I need to.” You gave her a weak, sad smile, and stood up. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? You have fun, I don’t want to ruin your night, too.”

“You’re not ruining anythi–”

“I mean… this. All of this stuff with,” you swallowed heavily, “him.”

Angie still seemed unconvinced, but finally nodded after a while. “Alright. But come and get me if you feel worse.”

“I promise. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Take care of yourself, okay?”

You nodded, then went towards the side exit and out into the snowy night without looking back. You didn’t want to stay here and watch as all those happy couples share sweet kisses at midnight, thus reminding you of your heartbreak.

This time you had your coat on, but it was far too thin for this kind of weather. You wrapped it tighter around yourself and hid your hands in the pockets, starting to make your way home. It was a bit far from the main square, but you needed to get away from the music and laughter of the partygoers as quickly as possible.

Alas, you only managed to walk one street away when out of nowhere, a big hand grabbed your elbow, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait.”

You turned around and took a step backwards at the same time, freeing your arm with a strong tug. The words full of anger were ready to spill out of your mouth, but that was until you saw who stood in front of you with a painful expression.

The last person you expected to see here.

“Joel?” You whispered surprisedly and looked around, but there was no one else nearby. Not that strange woman you saw him with, at least. “What are you doing here?”

“I was lookin’ for you,” he rasped between gasps, like he ran all the way here. “You weren’t at the party.”

“Why were you… What are you doing here?” you repeated more coldly, the sight of him only making your fresh heartache so much more noticeable. “I thought you left.”

“M’so sorry.” Joel’s beautiful dark eyes were full of sadness and weariness. “I would have never left you if I could help it, darlin’.”

He took half a step forward and lifted his hand slightly to graze yours with his icy-cold fingertips. You weren’t wearing any gloves either, so his touch sent a jolt up your arm. You looked down at it, but gently moved your hand away. “I don’t understand. Didn’t you have a… date?”

“No.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. You avoided his eyes and instead watched as snowflakes landed and melted in his hair. “No, it was Tommy… You saw how drunk he was, and he wanted to set me up, insisted on talking to that girl, but I…”

“You should get back to her, then,” you said dryly, really not having strength to even hide how hurtful his mere presence was. You went past him, hiding your neck in your coat. “I don’t want to keep you from–”

“Darlin’, wait.” Joel grabbed your arm again, though still gently and without any force. “Listen, she was nice, but I told her that I can’t get involved in anythin’, because I…” He faltered slightly when you looked him in the eyes, for the first time since your talk on the terrace. “There is… it’s– fuck.” He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, as if gathering courage. “There is someone else,” he finally spoke, his voice almost trembling, and looked at you again, “that I’m madly in love with. And it’s you.”

Through the open door to the party someone shouted what sounded like the time, but it was all happening in the background of your mind. All you could focus on was Joel, standing so close to you and looking almost scared as he waited for your reaction.

Cold crept up your limbs and up to your cheeks while you tried to digest what the hell you just heard, but as if held by the invisible force of his gaze, you couldn’t move an inch.

“...what?”

“I… really, really like you,” Joel whispered, his dark and sad eyes drilling into your unbelieving ones. “I went to this party just to see you, darlin’. And I’d never chose to spend the evenin’ with anyone else but you. I’m so sorry I left you like that and…”

He then gulped and very slowly lifted his hand to your face, not fully cupping your cheek but hovering just above it. He searched your eyes, but when you didn’t back away, he touched your skin carefully, and an involuntary sigh escaped you as your eyes fluttered closed.

You never thought one could be touched with such care and fondness. No one has ever treated you like that before, like you were made of the most precious glass.

“You can tell me to fuck off,” Joel whispered, and you opened your eyes to find his face a little closer than before. “I just thought that maybe… if you would maybe, too…”

He was getting flustered again, and it was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. It must’ve been close to midnight now, because you noticed that the music stopped and the racket inside the building was at its peak, though it was hard to distinguish the words people were shouting when your heartbeat was almost deafening in your ears.

“But I saw you leaving with that woman.” You had to make sure you were on the same page with him before you did something idiotic. Again. “You aren’t…?”

“No,” Joel breathed a quiet chuckle and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, while his eyes danced across your face. “It’s only ever been you, darlin’.”

Then he must’ve heard something – his head turned to the side to look at where the party was still going on, before his eyes returned to you, and you felt his thumb swiping your cheek in an oh, so tender manner.

“May I?” he asked in a whisper, so close that his breath skimmed your parted lips. You hoped he was asking about what you thought, but this time wasn’t brave enough to ask and clarify.

So you just nodded.

And Joel leaned in, without any hurry, and kissed you.

It was fitting, you supposed, that only a couple of seconds later the clock chimed midnight, and shrieks of laughter and cheers filled the air while the people still present at the party celebrated loudly. You couldn’t care less, however, because in that moment, your entire world was Joel. His – still cold – hand caressed your scorching cheek, and the other found its place on your hip. The smell of him, the warmth with which his body radiated, and the feeling of his lips, rougher in touch than you’ve imagined, but still soft in movement – all of it together was almost overwhelming.

You parted after a while with blissful sighs, though didn’t move away – Joel still held you close, his forehead pressed to yours, and eyes shut tightly, as if he was in pain. He took a trembling breath when you touched his jaw with your icy fingers.

“Tell me to stop,” he pleaded in a murmur, taking you aback. “Sugar, if you don’t… Please, tell me to stop.”

You shook your head and held onto him tighter before he even finished.

“Please, don’t stop.”

Your lips clashed again, tongues meeting and dancing together, and it was the closest you’ve ever felt to any type of heaven in this cruel, forsaken world. Joel pulled you flush against him and kissed you again, more forcefully this time, tangling his fingers in your hair. You let out an involuntary moan, but his mouth swallowed the sound immediately, not giving you a split second of respite.

“I wanted to do it a year ago,” Joel muttered between the kisses, before he took your face in his hands to look you in the eyes properly. He smiled, that same adorable and boyish smile, when he saw how breathless and flushed you were. “Wanted to kiss you so much, sugar, but,” he obviously fought back a laugh at this point, his eyes crinkling, “you got wasted and puked your guts out just before midnight.”

“Oh my god.” You didn’t know he saw it, particularly the moment when all the alcohol you consumed a year ago refused to stay in your stomach. “I wasn’t– I don’t usually… I got drunk ‘cause I saw Sheryll kissing you on the cheek,” you admitted with embarrassment, feeling your skin growing even hotter. “I thought you and her were together at that point…”

“But why did you get drunk because of it, sweet girl?” Joel mused, brushing his nose against yours and obviously teasing you. You snorted and shook your head.

“You know why.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

You playfully pushed him away lightly, but he tightened his grip around you, not letting you step away.

“You’re an asshole sometimes,” you whispered, making Joel chuckle. “Fine. I really wanted to kiss you, too. Happy?”

He smiled and kissed you again, softly and passionately this time, cradling your cheek in his palm.

“Very,” he whispered against your lips and dragged his nose up to plant a kiss on your forehead. “Very much, baby.”

Your heart fluttered with joy at his affectionate tone. Joel pulled away, his hands leaving your body to cover your own, situated on his jaw and arm.

“Now, what do you say we head back inside?” he asked with a disarming smile, brushing your knuckles with his thumbs. “And maybe you’ll let me ask you for a dance?”

You didn’t give an answer, but the joyous kiss you pressed to his lips – which, with your enthusiasm, almost made both of you topple over into the snow – spoke for itself.

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, light suggestive themes, use of "princess", "she" pronoun used, a few more characters appear, Sukuna and reader are both hot for each other, a hot mess if you squint lol A/N: what does it say about me that my dreams are now occupied by this fic three chapters in? anywaaaaays, hope I did the guest appearances justice with their personalities (｡- .•) I try to remind myself this is a modern au and I can't just allow Sukuna to be too "King of Curses" like lol. index part two | part four

part three word count : 2,711

Sukuna had always thought that love wouldn’t be something he easily fell into. he was torn between the idea that no one would be right for him – or that he would never be right for anyone. last summer felt like it had proved the latter to be true, even though he knew why things ended up the way they did.

but now, you kept coming back. back to that bar every day, back to his thoughts constantly. he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the feelings he got whenever you were around. excitement, intrigue, and most of all, awe. you took his playful insults and dished them back tenfold – something he was growing used to enjoying.

and yet you were still flustered around him. and that made him even more thrilled. whenever he’d get your cheeks to flush, or your gaze averted from him, he counted it as a win, just because he got to see your expression change. and when it did, he could tell that slowly, but surely, you were falling as fast as he was.

despite your best efforts, you were. the idea that after work you could meet Sukuna at the bar made the day go by much faster. you were even finding yourself primping in the mirror before leaving. and god forbid, your dreams at night… filthy. and filled with him.

you had denied yourself long enough right? he was interested in you, wasn’t entirely crazy, and was very very attractive. maybe it was time to finally kick your vengeance act into gear – Sukuna was the perfect candidate.

imagine your surprise when you stepped out of work, expecting the usual walk around the corner to the bar, only to find Sukuna leaning casually against his motorcycle, waiting for you. the sight sent a shiver down your spine. he held the strap of his helmet loosely with two fingers, slung over his shoulder like he had all the time in the world. when his crimson eyes met yours, that wicked grin of his spread across his face.

“well, this is unexpected,” you said as you approached, arms crossed in mock suspicion. “escaping our bar again?”

“you said our bar,” Sukuna pointed out, clearly relishing the words as he repeated them, his grin widening. “I like the sound of that. has a nice ring to it.”

you rolled your eyes. “don’t get used to it.”

“too late,” he shot back smoothly, his gaze fixed on you with a glint of mischief. “but I had a better idea today. you up for a little adventure?”

you raised a brow, glancing at his bike. “this isn’t one of those adventures where I mysteriously disappear and end up on the evening news, is it?”

Sukuna chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent warmth curling in your chest. “damn, you caught on to step six of my evil master plan,” he said, smirking.

“step six? what happened to steps one through five?” you asked, playing along despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“oh, those are just the warm-up,” Sukuna replied, leaning closer, his voice dipping just enough to send a thrill through you. “but don’t worry, princess. you’ll enjoy this.”

you hesitated for just a moment before nodding. “fine. but if this so-called adventure involves anything sketchy, I’m out.”

Sukuna’s grin only widened as he handed you the spare helmet, the same one you’d worn the night before. “relax, you’re in good hands. now, hop on.”

you clung to him a little tighter on the ride than you wanted to admit, the warmth of his back and the cool wind rushing past making for a strange, intoxicating contrast.

when the bike finally slowed, you glanced up, expecting some scenic overlook or hole-in-the-wall restaurant. instead, Sukuna pulled into the lot of a sleek, modern building. neon lights illuminated the name of the business: Cursed Ink.

“a tattoo shop?” you asked, sliding off the bike as he steadied it on the kickstand.

“my tattoo shop,” Sukuna corrected, pride lacing his tone as he pulled off his helmet.

you followed him inside, the smell of antiseptic and faint hints of ink filling the air. “wow,” you murmured, your eyes drifting to a wall of framed photographs showcasing some of the shop’s best work. “this is… impressive.”

“told you I’m full of surprises,” Sukuna said, watching you with an expression that was almost unreadable. he gestured toward one of the tattoo stations, where a black chair sat beneath a lamp. “that’s my spot.”

your gaze followed his hand, taking in the neatly arranged inks, the well-worn sketchpad sitting off to the side. “so, what? you brought me here to show off?”

“maybe,” he said with a shrug, but his grin hinted at more. “or maybe I figured you’d like to see a different side of me. you’re always so quick to think you’ve got me figured out.”

you turned to him, crossing your arms. “and what side is this, exactly?”

“the real one,” he said simply. “you’ve seen me at the bar, running my mouth and messing with you. but this? this is what I do. it’s what I’m good at.”

there was something uncharacteristically earnest in his tone, and it caught you off guard. you glanced around again, your gaze lingering on the bold, intricate designs hanging on the walls. “did you do these?”

“most of them,” Sukuna said, his voice tinged with cockiness. “the others are from the team. they’re good, but…” he trailed off, his smirk returning. “let’s be honest. I’m better.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “of course you’d say that.”

“wanna see for yourself?” he challenged, stepping closer, his crimson eyes gleaming.

your pulse quickened as you caught the implication in his words. “what are you suggesting?”

“I’m saying,” Sukuna said, leaning against the counter, “if you’re feeling brave, I could give you a little something. something that’ll remind you of tonight.”

you hesitated, glancing at the tattoo chair, then back at Sukuna. the way his crimson eyes gleamed with challenge sent a rush of heat to your cheeks. “yeah, no,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I’m not letting you put a needle anywhere near me.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “scared, princess?”

“scared?” you repeated with a scoff. “of you? hardly. but I’m not about to let you permanently mark me just because you feel like showing off.”

he chuckled, the sound low and rich as he leaned back against the counter, arms crossed in mock defeat. he planned to mark you one day alright, just not with ink. “your loss. you could’ve had something to remember me by.”

“oh, trust me,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes. “I think you’re already impossible to forget.”

his smirk widened at that, his gaze lingering on you just a little longer than necessary. “good,” he said simply, pushing off the counter and motioning for you to follow. “guess I’ll just have to show you around instead.”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and trailed behind him as he led you through the shop.

the place had more personality than you’d expected—walls lined with artwork, some of which you learned were Sukuna’s own designs.

“alright,” you admitted after he finished showing off a dragon piece that stretched across an entire back. “I’ll give you this—you’re good. like, really good.”

“finally, some recognition,” Sukuna teased, his grin smug. “I was starting to think you didn’t appreciate my talents.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you replied, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

suddenly, the bell at the front door chimed, signaling someone had entered the shop. you glanced at Sukuna, raising an eyebrow as his mouth tugged into an irritated frown.

“sounds like the rest of the clowns decided to show up,” he muttered, his tone dripping with exasperation.

“Suku! saw your bike out front!” called a cheerful male voice, loud enough to echo through the shop. Sukuna’s eyes rolled so hard you were surprised they didn’t get stuck.

“should I be worried about your friends?” you teased, but the grim look on Sukuna’s face made you half-wonder if it was a legitimate concern.

“they’re not friends,” Sukuna corrected, his irritation palpable. “they’re my partners. Suguru and Uraume. and along with them is Suguru’s best friend—who also happens to be the most annoying brat I’ve ever met—Satoru.”

right on cue, three figures appeared from around the corner. the first, Suguru Geto, was tall and composed, with long, sleek black hair tied back. next to him, Uraume stood with an air of quiet confidence. their sharp gaze darted between you and Sukuna, as if assessing the situation before speaking.

trailing behind was Satoru Gojo, whose striking white hair and smug grin made him an instant attention-grabber. he wore round sunglasses despite it being nighttime, and his energy was as loud and brash as his voice.

“well, well,” Satoru began, striding forward with his hands in his pockets. “what’s this? Sukuna actually entertaining a guest? didn’t know you had it in you, buddy.”

“shut the fuck up, Gojo,” Sukuna snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Suguru gave you a polite nod, his tone smooth as he said, “don’t mind him. Satoru’s personality is… an acquired taste.”

“hey asshole! I heard that!” Satoru chimed, leaning forward to get a closer look at you. “so, who’s this? did you finally manage to find someone who doesn’t hate your guts, Sukuna?”

your lips twitched at the jab, but you stayed quiet, letting Sukuna handle the chaos.

“that's none of your business,” Sukuna growled, stepping slightly in front of you as if to shield you from whatever nonsense was about to follow.

Uraume’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before they turned to Sukuna, their voice calm and neutral. “you didn’t tell us you had company tonight.”

“I don’t need to tell you everything, do I?” Sukuna shot back.

“you never do,” Uraume said, the faintest hint of a smirk gracing their lips.

Suguru chuckled under his breath before addressing you directly. “forgive the intrusion. I’m Suguru. and the loud one is Satoru.”

“I’m right here!” Satoru protested, waving dramatically.

“and this is Uraume,” Suguru continued, ignoring the interruption.

you nodded at each of them, feeling the weight of their scrutiny but refusing to let it show. “nice to meet you. I guess.”

Satoru grinned, leaning toward Sukuna with a mock whisper. “she’s feisty.”

“say one more thing, and I’ll kick you out myself,” Sukuna threatened, his patience clearly wearing thin.

the group laughed—well, mostly Satoru and Suguru—while Uraume merely shook their head, as if used to the chaos.

Suguru leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed, his gaze flickering between you and Sukuna. “didn’t peg you as the type to bring someone here, Sukuna. let me guess, you’ve been bragging about how you’re the best artist in the city?”

Sukuna smirked, his annoyance ebbing slightly. “don’t need to brag. everyone already knows.”

“yeah, yeah,” Satoru cut in, waving a hand dismissively before plopping himself onto one of the tattoo chairs. “but damn, what’s the deal? you’ve been dodging our calls, and now we find you playing tour guide?” he turned to you, grinning like a cheshire cat. “what kind of blackmail material do you have on him?”

you couldn’t help but snort at the absurdity. “I think he just likes tormenting me in person.”

Satoru laughed loudly, slapping the arm of the chair. “oh shit, she’s funny. I like her.”

Sukuna shot him a glare that could’ve withered a plant. “you’re testing my patience, Gojo.”

Uraume stepped forward, their tone as cool as ever. “should we expect you to actually focus on work tomorrow, or are you going to be… otherwise occupied?”

“I don’t report to you,” Sukuna snapped, his crimson eyes narrowing.

Suguru raised his hands in mock surrender, the picture of calm. “alright, alright, we’ll stop prying. but next time, maybe let us know when you’re busy, so we don’t interrupt your – ahem – quality time.”

Sukuna groaned, clearly regretting every life choice that led to this moment. “you’re all insufferable. I swear, one day—”

“yeah, yeah,” Satoru interrupted with a grin, spinning lazily in the chair. “one day you’ll kill us all. heard it a million fucking times. anyway,” he turned back to you, “you must be special if you’ve got the king of grump spending his evenings with you.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the shift in attention towards you again. before you could respond, Sukuna stepped in, his voice sharp. “she’s not here for your entertainment, Gojo. don’t you have some other poor soul to annoy?”

“not tonight,” Satoru replied cheerily, leaning back as if he owned the place.

Suguru gave you an apologetic glance, his expression softening. “he means well. most of the time.”

Uraume, meanwhile, was silent but observant, their gaze never straying far from you or Sukuna. you got the sense they were assessing something, but what, you couldn’t tell. their gaze made you feel… uneasy. like you were a specimen under a microscope.

“I think that’s enough,” Sukuna said suddenly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “you’ve seen me. I’m alive. now get lost.”

“aw, don’t be like that, Suku,” Satoru teased, standing and stretching dramatically. “we were just starting to have fun.”

“I’m serious,” Sukuna growled, his patience officially gone.

Suguru chuckled under his breath but relented, motioning for Satoru and Uraume to follow. “alright, we’ll leave you to it. but don’t think this means we’re done with you.”

Uraume cast Sukuna a long look before turning to you. “it was… interesting to meet you.”

“likewise,” you replied, though you weren’t entirely sure what to make of them. did they hate you already? did you have something on your face?

with that, the trio finally made their exit, the bell chiming once again as the door swung shut behind them.

the silence that followed was almost jarring. you turned to Sukuna, raising an eyebrow. “so… that’s your crew?”

“unfortunately,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “don’t let them scare you off. they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

you smirked, leaning against the counter. “I don’t know. I kind of liked them.”

Sukuna groaned. “don’t encourage them. especially Gojo. that idiot doesn’t need more fuel for his damn ego.”

despite his grumbling, you could tell there was a begrudging fondness buried – deep – beneath the surface. it was strange, seeing Sukuna interact with people who clearly knew him so well, even if they drove him up the wall.

“alright, enough about them,” he said, his tone softening as he turned back to you. “where were we before the circus rolled in?”

you laughed softly. “something about me not letting you give me a tattoo?”

his lips curled into a smirk, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “right. you’re still a coward for that, by the way.”

“keep dreaming,” you shot back, but the warmth in his gaze made it hard to keep the smile off your face.

Sukuna leaned closer, his smirk sharp as ever, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “you know, you can’t avoid it forever. one day, you’ll let me leave my mark on you.”

“don’t count on it,” you replied, trying to sound defiant despite the way your heartbeat quickened.

“hmm,” he hummed, leaning back casually. “we’ll see.”

the tension hung in the air, thick and electric, before Sukuna finally grabbed his helmet and tossed it your way. you barely caught it, giving him a questioning look.

“come on,” he said, already heading for the door. “let’s get out of here, it’s getting late.”

you rolled your eyes but followed, the sound of the shop’s lights clicking off behind you.

as you climbed onto the back of his bike, your arms instinctively wrapped around his waist, the motion feeling almost second nature by now. it was startling how natural it felt—being this close to him, fitting into this unpredictable rhythm he’d drawn you into. a thought crept into your mind, frustratingly persistent: would you feel disappointed if he didn’t show up tomorrow?

the answer lingered in your chest, heavier than you expected.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @mangiswig@aldebrana@ravester@marie-is-in-the-dark@makingtimemine @sorahatake @osohchoso @csolya @clp-84 @chosokamoluvr . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[vacayisland]

I would love to see your take on Trollex or Synth I love them so much. Maybe relationship hcs with reader? Thank youu~

@!; Starfish Wishes Trollex / Reader Synth / Reader

"Summary"! Unstructured headcannons on how Trollex and Synth would be in a relationship with the reader! "Tags"! Fluff and the two being literal dorks I love them sm. I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR A REQUEST ABOUT THEM FOR AGES PLEASE ILY SM (/p)

@storydays @chamille-trash @valvalentine69

@!; Being the lover of the Techno tribe leader is an experience like no other. I'm being serious, Trollex is a big doofus at heart and he knows it, and while he's more tame in public when he's alone with you it all comes out. And while Trollex has the biggest heart you've ever seen, it's a blessing and a curse.

Standing at the bottom of the ocean was defiantly something new for you, and something you didn't exactly expect to experience - like ever. Nevertheless, you never thought you would experience standing under the ocean in the middle of a Techno rave. Trollex always gushed about them, speaking with such energy you were sure half the time he was going to explode. Yet, whenever he spoke with you about the raves there was always a common denominator that made him pause and cause him to stand still. You both knew that it was harder said than done, seeing as you were neither a Techno troll or that you could breath under water. And yet, after months of talking (and a lot of trust building as Trollex tried to find some way to make this happened) he finally did it! "You alright Starfish?" Trollex shouted over the blasting music towards you, taking off an earphone as he did so. You nearly missed his voice, despite standing right next to him as you still felt a little uneasy to join the rest of the Techno tribe on their dance floor. "Huh?" You shouted back, taking a moment to process what he said, "Yeah! It's just- it's weird!" A chuckled followed after your words, "Standing at the bottom of the ocean, listening to unmuffled music, dancing?" Trollex beamed towards you, dropping his headphones around his neck, "Yeah! You have to get used to it, but if you ever need a break let me now. I'll get Synth to take over for a moment so we can go to a quieter area."

@!; Honestly he has the biggest heart, loves you to death and will do anything to make sure you're happy and well. Furthermore, he will do anything to protect you. Other than his tribe, you're his number one priority and he won't ever let you forget that and will remind you constantly. Mostly shows his love through spontaneous actions! Such as grabbing your waist and hugging you tightly while twirling around, making a CD that is a mash-up of all your favorite songs (or your own songs), or just deciding that today was going to be you and him day. I feel like he shows a lot of his affection through physical contact and quality: hugs, cuddles, kisses, swimming together, listening to music, spinning disks, having you next to him during raves so he can steal kisses from you. Loves to also make you flustered. It's the cheekiness instead of him.

@!; Defiantly a family guy! Expect him to be home with you, and the children, when he isn't doing his leadership gigs. Also, expect there to be kids and at least 3-4 of them, and expect him to love and spoil them to death. Those are his babies and he will not let anyone harm them and he will make sure they're raised not only right but also with everything he could possibly give them. Though is defiantly the type to understand if you want fewer or more kids, or if you need time between each egg catching. he knows it's difficult to raise kids without him there all the time. And while he tries to be there all he can, running the Techno tribe is a lot of work and he can't always be there. But you'll be damned if he misses something important for his kids. Never, ever, will this man miss something for you or his kids. First dj session? There and he's their biggest fan. First steps? There. First glitter ball game? You know he's rocking their colors. Birthdays? His schedule his cleared on that day for decades. Somehow finds a balance between life and work to keep the tribe happy and safe while also being the best dad he can be.

@!; Big prankster and goofball. The type who, when he sees your sad, cheer you up either through cuddles or a well meaning prank. He loves you to death, and I will say this time and time again because it's true, and he doesn't want to see you upset or sad. It makes him sad! So he'll cheer you up with his second best medicine, laughter and smiles! The first is obviously raving.

"Hey starfish, can you come here?" Trollex called you from the kitchen of your shared home, causing you to lean your head back on the couch. You tried looking at him, or tried to get a hint of what he was doing. It was one of those days were all you felt like doing was nothing. You just wanted to lay on the couch and completely space you, looking at the wall for any sort of inspiration that would never come. It made your nose scrunch and your head hurt to think that your boyfriend could possibly think beckoning you from your current place of hibernation was a good idea. Though seconds later, after not seeing you budge, he called again, "I promise, it'll be good!" So reluctantly, you mustered the strength to push yourself off the couch and onto your feet. Despite how heavy your body felt, you pushed through it to enter the kitchen where Trollex stood all too suspiciously; His hands were behind his back and this big grin was spread across his face. You knew he was up to something but you couldn't guess what it was. "So.. I know that you're having a bad day." He started, trying to contain his excitement. "So I decided to get you a gift!"

Did the gift happen to be something you absolutely loved, and had been ranting to Trollex about anytime it had crossed your mind? Yes. But was it also a bitch to get out because Trollex used every box and paper bag and gift wrap you two had laying around to wrap it? Also yes. You were so sure that the gift wrap and the boxes and the bag would never end, but it got you laughing and smiling at how ridiculous the whole thing was. Trollex and you literally spent 15 minutes on the kitchen floor unwrapping it all, then another 5 minutes laughing your asses off about it.

@!; Overall, he's an amazing lover and I love him so much. He will give you up, he'll never let you down, he'll never run around and desert you. He'll never make you cry, he'll never say goodbye, he'll never tell a lie and hurt you. But he will rickroll you as a prank while playing around with his turntables, giving you your own private concert. And this man will absolutely cackle at your expression like the gremlin he is and apologize later.

@!; Being Synth’s lover is getting to know the Synth behind “Synth”; which is much more complex than the outward, rave-loving and happy-go-lucky person Synth is always described and known as. And sure, while you fell in love with that version of Synth, you couldn’t help but fall deeper for him the more you got to know him, and in turn he fell harder the more he realized you accepted him and the more he got to know you.

@!; You first met Synth at a rave, which you had been invited to by Poppy as an olive branch to get to know some Techno trolls. At first, you weren’t sure why she would invite you to such a loud event, knowing you were rather sensitive about noise and iffy about meeting new people, especially people from different tribes. Yet, you also knew it would be rather rude to decline the invitation. Not only because Poppy had asked you personally, but also because it was a party for another tribe and you weren’t sure how they reacted to declined invitations. You had feared they took it horribly, like if you declined it would mean you hated them or something along those lines. So, to not make anyone upset you decided to go.

And, as you had expected earlier, you kept close to the edges of the party and watched everyone else; Having even taken a seat upon the disco floor out of tiredness of standing for too long. Yet, you didn’t want to leave encase Poppy wanted to introduce you to someone, or if it would count as rude to leave before a rave had finished. So you stayed, despite the overwhelming feeling you got from being in such a crowded and loud environment. “Yo, Bro!” Someone shouted, and you had thought it was towards someone else. Seeing as you didn’t know who the voice was coming from and you were just sitting in a corner doing nothing interesting, you had little reason to think someone was calling to you. Yet the voice shouted, this time closer, “Yo! Hello!” and then you saw someone waving their hands in the background, which caught your attention rather quickly. It was a Techno troll you had seen before around Poppy, and a few other Trolls. While you never spoke to him personally, you knew a few things about him. Such as, his name was Synth and he was quite loud. At times, you were able to hear his voice from across Trollstopia, and it always caused a slight fright in you at the sudden noise. “Bro you okay?” Synth swam over to you, hanging upside down with glow sticks in hand and some hanging around his neck. You hadn’t known at the time how much this first interaction would change your life, how much Synth would affect you. All you knew is that you wanted to run and hide. You were glad you didn’t.

@!; Synth wasn’t the most emotionally aware troll there is, while you were exactly the opposite and were way too emotionally aware for your own well being. As such, you two were able to balance each other out. Synth helps you calm down from the stress and emotional pressure of carrying everyone’s troubles on your back and you help Synth by pointing out social cues and things he was overlooking in his fun-seeking ways. You both helped each other get more in touch with your friends and with each other. Synth usually helps you calm down, not by raving with a large group of Techno trolls (though he used to before you exploded to Poppy, not wanting to hurt Synth’s feelings and she told Synth) yet by having dance parties at your pod. Dance parties meaning it was only you and Synth with your feel-good songs and you two would either dance together or do something else like scrapbooking, cooking, baking, etc. Something he tries to sit down and help you through your emotions. At first he tried giving you suggestions, but they weren’t the best and he learnt to just let you get it all out. Something you didn’t even need him to listen to, you just needed him there.

@!; Cuddling with Synth means there’s always a nightlight nearby! Poor Synth is terrified of the dark, and it really troubled him to be in a room without any sort of lighting (which is how you figured out why he always carries glow sticks with him). At first, Synth tried to be strong for you and cuddle at night… but he didn’t even last 2 minutes before he yelled out in pure terror.

“What? What?!” You exclaimed, jumping up from your place in bed as Synth was just freaking out. You were just about to doze off when he had begun to do so, and you were sure he didn’t have a nightmare because he hadn’t even fallen asleep… or closed his eyes for that matter. You could see the purple glow of his eyes through your shut ones. Though Synth didn’t seem too keen on answering you straightly, as he just blubbered out, “What what? What who? What where? And sometimes-” “Synth.” But you cut him off, cupping his cheeks to make him look at you. To which he drew back a little, his eyes widening in shock for a split second before he became a ball of nerves. He laughed, nervous laughter. And you seemed to realize instantly what was happening with how frequently his eyes darted around the room, trying to look for something. You didn’t know he was afraid of the dark! “Synth you should have told me.” You would mumble before scrambling to turn on your bedside lamp, much to Synth’s relief.

From that day on you had a nightlight in your room for Synth.

@!; Synth gave you a rave name the first 3 hours he knew you and now that’s the only thing he decides to call you. You weren’t sure why he did so and when you asked Trollex or Laguna they just said that’s how he is. Trollex even shrugged. You’re stuck with it, so get used to it because he means that rave name with the up most endearment!! <3

@!; He’s a little hard in the head. Didn’t know you liked him until you told him out right and even then he didn’t understand and said he liked you too. You gave up and Trollex had to explain to him what you meant, to which he paused and shouted to you as you walked away, “I LOVE YOU!” To which Trollex stared at him with the most bewildered look and you got absolutely terrified.

@!; Has taken you water surfing and urchin acupuncturing if you’re cool with it! And if you need he’s here to hold your hand and help you through it. Has also shot water at you with his water powers. Was his hands in the shape of little guns? Yes. did he also say “pew pew” as well? Yes. Did you then also purchase a water gun to be able to do it back? Yup. And was Synth so shocked the first time he got pew-pew’ed with water back? Mhmm. But then did it dissolve into a huge water fight anytime you guys pew-pew’ed each other with water? Of course!

@!; Other than being scared of the water and being an avid raver, Synth sometimes struggles with self esteem issues; mostly, he fears that he’ll let people down and disappoint them. Which, when you first heard him explain, you were shocked to hear! You always thought Synth didn’t really care what other people thought of him, despite caring about people and their well being. You don’t know why you thought that way, but you just did.

“So that’s why I’ve been acting so off the past few days, yo.” Synth explained to you the whole fiasco about his cheerleading side-gig, which he did more for fun than anything else. Though Synth expected a slightly more emotional reaction out of you than other trolls, he didn’t expect to see you almost crying. “Yo, are you crying?!” “No! No, I’m fine!” Yet you only sniffled. “Bro… don’t cry because then I’ll cry!”

You and Synth connected on a deeper level that day, as you explained you also tended to feel that way around people. You both decided to make a pinkie-promise to be able to tell each other anything since that day. @!; I love Synth so much, 10/10 lover. 

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[scoonsalicious]

9.2 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of past cheating.

Word Count: 2.3k

Previously On...: Bucky and Lily had a conversation. Now Lily knows you and Bucky are dating.

A/N: Sorry this is late; I had to clean out my office after hours today. It was... an experience, to say the least :/

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

“I think you’re a fucking idiot,” your best friend, Hannah Santiago, said to you as you sat in the coffee shop across the street from The WarZone. She had been furious with you when you hadn’t answered her texts all weekend, so you promised her a lunch date to catch her up on your last few days in the company of one Bucky Barnes.

She did not appear to be taking it very well.

“Why?” you asked, mildly insulted. “He’s amazing, Han. I think you’ll really like him when you get to know him.”

Hannah rolled her eyes at you. “Oh, I’m sure he’s a peach,” she agreed with just a hint of sarcasm. “Though I’d probably feel better about it if you got to know him, too, before shacking up with him for days on end!”

“It’s NRE,” you told her, as if that perfectly explained the intense connection you felt you shared with Bucky. “That New Relationship Energy.”

“Oh my god,” Hannah groaned. “Get off of TikTok. You’re too fucking old for that shit.” A mother at the next table over with an infant in a stroller gave her a disapproving look and audibly tsked at her, but Hannah just responded with a glare.

“It’s great for marketing,” you grumbled.

“Look,” Hannah conceded with a sigh, “I’m sure this guy is wonderful, really. But (Y/N), sweetie, you haven’t had a serious relationship since you and Connor split.” You opened your mouth to protest, despite knowing she was right, but Hannah silenced you with a look. “I’m not saying I don’t want you to get back out there; lord knows it's past time– I just want you to be smart about it and not rush into anything headfirst with someone you barely know.”

Logically, of course, you knew Hannah was right. “He suggested we should put a pause on having sex so we can focus on getting to know each other better,” you offered. 

Hannah raised a well-manicured eyebrow. “Okay, that’s interesting,” she said. “Especially if it was as good as you said it was.”

You dropped your chin into your hand as you rested your elbow against the table and sighed dreamily. “Hannah, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I swear, I don’t even know if I can call anything Connor ever gave me an actual orgasm after then things Bucky’s done to my body.”

The mother at the next table muttered something about “inappropriate talk” under her breath, but loud enough that you both could hear her. 

“Last time I checked,” Hannah said pointedly at you, though projecting her voice so that you knew it was actually for the other woman’s benefit, “‘inappropriate’ speech is still free speech. So sue me, please.”

You rolled your eyes good naturedly. As a First Amendment litigator, Hannah took Freedom of Speech extremely seriously. “Han,” you warned. “Let it go. This isn’t a courtroom.”

“Fine,” your friend said, ignoring the mother as she stood up and walked away with her stroller. “I’m just worried about you,” she said. “The last time you jumped headfirst into a relationship without really knowing the guy, you ended up married for nine years.”

You hated that she was right– you did have a track record of impulsive relationship decisions. “I appreciate you looking out for me,” you offered, reaching out to squeeze Hannah’s hand across the table. 

“So, do you really see this turning into a long term thing?” Hannah asked, genuinely curious. “Because I’ll support you if you do; I’ll just tell you I told you so if it all falls apart at your feet.”

“I think I do,” you told her, choosing to ignore her jab about rubbing failure in your face. “I know it’s early, but… I’m happy when I’m with him. There’s just the one issue with his–” You paused, not quite sure you wanted to divulge the Lily-sized elephant in your relationship with Bucky just yet.

“One issue with what?” Hannah asked. “And you better not say ‘nothing,’ otherwise I will use my cross examination skills against you,” she threatened. 

Having no desire to subject yourself to that, you relented. “It’s just… he’s got this female best friend–”

“Oh, hell no!” Hannah said, loudly enough to attract the attention of most of the other coffee shop patrons. “Nope, we are not doing this, (Y/N). I will not stand by and watch you go through that all over again.”

Truthfully, this was the reaction you had been expecting. “I’m not the same person I was back then, Han,” you protested. “Bucky’s not Connor, and Lily’s not Danielle.”

You understood your friend’s anger on your behalf. When Connor had promised you there was nothing between him and his childhood best friend, Danielle, you’d naively believed him, despite the gnawing sensation in your gut that told you something wasn’t right with their relationship. It was years before the instinct grew enough to convince you to look at his phone and you had found thousands of text messages between the two of them. You’d promptly thrown up.

His reaction had been textbook. At first, he tried to gaslight you– you didn’t see what you thought you saw; you were taking innocent conversations out of context (though, you weren’t sure how much context the exchanging of nudes really needed). Then, he tried to shift the blame on you– you were never around, always away on deployment or assignments. You emasculated him by getting promoted again and again, until you outranked him, and how was he supposed to live with that? Finally, he love bombed you, showering you with compliments and praise, begging you to forgive him, making promises you knew he would never keep, telling you he’d do anything to get you to stay.

Except for cutting off all contact with Danielle, apparently. He was willing to do anything, anything at all to regain your trust… just not the one thing you’d actually asked of him.

In the end, the divorce had been relatively straight forward. You weren’t stupid. You’d made sure to take screenshots of all of the text conversations between him and his mistress in case he deleted them. You’d even recorded the conversation you had with him when you confronted him, and he’d actually admitted to it. 

There were a lot of things you had disliked about the United States Army, but their stance on cheating hadn’t been one of them. Connor had ended up demoted, and you were able to maintain all of your financial assets without having to shell out anything for spousal support, despite the fact that you had out-earned him by more than double. 

As for Danielle? Well, you became an expert at giving her the cold shoulder and pretending like she didn’t exist.

“You never thought Connor would end up like Connor, either,” Hannah told you pointedly. “And yet.”

You sighed. Your friend had a point, you knew she did, but you just couldn’t imagine Bucky doing that to you. 

“Look, I’m not trying to shit in your cornflakes,” Hannah said. “I love you and I’m worried about you. I don’t want to see you rush into something and make the same mistakes again. That’s all.”

“I know, I know,” you agreed. And you really did. Hannah had been your biggest source of support when your marriage had gone to hell. She’d set you up with your attorney, let you stay with her while your housing situation got sorted, and had been your shoulder to cry on all the nights you had too much to drink and swore you were going to die alone. 

“Look, I promise to not jump into anything crazy,” you assured her. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

*

After saying your goodbyes to Hannah so she could return to her firm, you headed back over to The WarZone, hoping to get yourself absorbed in some work so you could get your mind off of Hannah’s worries before they became your worries, too. Natasha should be arriving shortly for her standing Tuesday appointment, and you were hoping to chat with her for a few minutes once she was done. 

The bell above the entry door rang cheerfully as you pushed your way inside, but the atmosphere in the lobby felt unnaturally heavy. You looked up from your phone to see Rand leaning against the reception desk with his arms crossed, glaring at someone across the room, and Zadie trying to pretend to look busy at her computer.

You followed Rand’s gaze and locked eyes with Bucky. His giant frame was spread out across one of the lounge chairs, and he seemed to have been watching Rand with a puzzled sort of wariness. When he turned to look at you, though, a blinding smile broke across his face that made your knees feel weak.

“Hey, sugar,” he greeted, standing up and making his way toward you. 

You moved to meet him halfway. “Hiya, Sarge,” you said, putting your arms around his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him hello. “I missed you.” 

“Oh yeah?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eye as his hands settled on your hips. “I just saw you yesterday.”

“Lotta lonely hours between then and now, Bucky,” you told him evocatively, toying your fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck.

The loud sound of a clearing throat brought your attention back to Rand, who was looking at you in disbelief. “Really?” he asked.

“Oh, sorry–” you said, purposefully ignoring Rand’s meaning. “Where are my manners? Bucky, this is my office assistant, Zadie–” Zadie waved enthusiastically from her perch behind the reception desk, “-- and my Midtown location manager, Rand. Guys,” you said, taking an excited breath, “this is Bucky.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Bucky,” Zadie said enthusiastically, and you knew the orchid and note he had sent you on Saturday had definitely won her over to his side. “Major’s told us so much about you.”

“Yeah,” added Rand through gritted teeth, “we’ve heard an awful lot about you, Mr. Barnes.” You shot him a look, silently pleading for him to be nice, or at least remove himself before he said something offensive.

“It’s nice to meet you both, as well,” Bucky said, ever the gentleman. He made to move, and you highly suspected he was going to try to shake hands with them. While you had no doubt Zadie would be friendly, you wouldn’t put it past Rand to just be a dick for the hell of it, so you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s midsection and drew yourself toward him, keeping him in place.

“So,” you began, hoping to distract him from your manager’s open hostility, “to what do I owe the pleasure? Because it is a pleasure to see you, especially when unexpected.”

Bucky smiled and moved a hand to brush a lock of hair away from your face. “Nat mentioned she was coming down for her weekly visit,” he said. “She invited me to come join her; thought I’d like to check out the place for myself.” He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially: “And if I just so happened to run into this pretty girl I’ve had my eye on, well, that would be a bonus.”

His words made your insides dance, leaving you feeling like a giddy teenager. “You’ll have to let me know if she shows up, Sarge,” you teased. “I’ll try to put a good word in for you.”

“You’d do that for me? Thanks, doll,” he grinned.

“Of course, handsome. Where is Nat, anyway?” you asked. The redhead hadn’t been in the lobby when you came in.

“She had to take a phone call. Avengers stuff,” Bucky offered with a shrug. “She shouldn’t be too long.”

As if on cue, the main door opened and Natasha breezed into the lobby. She caught sight of you and Bucky with your arms around one another immediately and threw a knowing smirk your way. “Sorry ‘bout that,” she said. She turned to Bucky and rolled her eyes. “Fury had some questions about the last mission that apparently couldn’t be saved for an email.”

“Fucking bureaucracy,” he muttered. 

“Tell me about it.” Nat’s frown quickly transformed into delighted glee as she rubbed her hands together. “Alright, Barnes. You ready to fuck some shit up?”

“Oh,” chirped Zadie. “I’m sorry, Ms. Romanoff; we didn’t have you down for a doubles’ room. Just your usual single.”

“Zadie, just move them to a VIP room,” you told your office assistant. You turned to Nat. “That should be more than big enough for the both of you.”

“They’re also significantly extra in price,” Rand interjected. 

“Waive the fee,” you said. 

“Sugar,” Bucky said, looking down at you, “that’s not necessary; we can pay the difference.”

“I’m not going to make my boy– er, um… my friends pay for an upgrade I offered them that they didn’t ask for. For fucks’ sake, Rand.” You hoped no one noticed your slipup, but the way Bucky was grinning down at you and squeezing your hip let you know it hadn’t gotten past him at all. 

“No problem, Major,” Zadie said. “Room 5c is available and all ready to go.”

“I’m sure you’re busy being the big boss, doll,” Bucky said as you moved to escort him and Nat to the elevators. You’d be having a chat with Rand later. “But any chance you could join us? I’d really like my first time to be with you.”

“Oh my god,” gagged Natasha. “You’re pathetic, Barnes. Seriously. That was bad.”

“So bad,” you agreed with a laugh, “but it worked.” You grinned at the both of them. “Yeah, of course I’ll help you pop your rage room cherry.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[mistyresolve]

Could you do a part 2 of "Takedown" with actual smut please? it was so good 💗

| Close Quarters

Word Count - 2.2k

Summary - It's Friday, which means you'll be busy later today helping out Ghost with his training. Only, you didn't expect to see him as early as 4 am. Nor did you expect him to leave you breathless and on the verge of begging for more.

Tags/Warnings - 18+ Smut, Dirty talk, Heavy petting, slight Voyeurism, Grinding, and Edging?

A/N - I could take him...just not in a fight

Takedown

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It was 4 a.m. by the time you got to the training room; most of the lights still turned off for the night. Leaving only the front half of the room illuminated, the back half was visible but still shadowed. Which was fine, it was the reason you came here at this hour. There was never anyone else to worry about or share equipment with. It allowed you time to think. Focus. Work through the stresses of the week without interruptions. 

That was how your days normally started. 

Unless there was someone else lurking in the shadows of the gym. Like there was today. 

A large dark form was hanging from the pull-up bars, their ankles crossed over each other. Hammering out pull-ups like they were nothing. They hadn’t noticed you come in, their attention on their reflection in the mirror to monitor their form and technique. They were wearing a hoodie, large enough to conceal what muscle might be hiding beneath it. The hood up. 

You squinted at the reflection in the mirror to try and catch a glimpse of who it might be. Only their face was half covered. 

If the male wasn’t wearing shorts you might have just shrugged it off and started on your own workout. For if it weren’t for said shorts you would have missed the familiar tattoos on his right leg. A patchwork of art that descended past his sock and disappeared under his shorts. He explained some of them to you once. Your eyes fell to one in particular. A statue of a female body. Her wings outstretched behind her and curving around his thigh. Her strength was still perceptible despite her head and arms being missing, those pieces of her departed her during sometimes of the statue's lifetime. 

A hauntingly beautiful depiction of The Winged Victory of Samothrace. 

When you asked him to explain that tattoo, Simon shrugged and stated that he “simply liked it”.  

He lowered himself back to the ground, noiseless aside from the soft tap of his shoes hitting the floor. He rested his hands on his hips, his wide shoulders rising and falling as he caught his breath. 

You debated slipping out of the training room before he saw you. Turned in your direction before you could make up your mind. He was reaching for the towel hanging on the bench behind his when he froze. His eyes find yours in the dark. The was no shock or surprise in his expression. 

Then you realized you could see his expression. 

He was still wearing a mask, just not the one he normally wore. This one was an altitude mask. Designed to mimic the effects of high-altitude environments and restrict airflow to the user, forcing the lungs to work harder. Commonly used for conditioning. 

You tried it once. Nearly died. 

Simon was doing a better job at handling the effects of the mask than you did, but he was still heaving for breath. 

You raised a hand to him in “hello”, offering him a small smile. 

He pulled earbuds from his ears, the sound of his music audible from where you stood. Well, there’s the reason as to why he didn’t hear you come in.  

“What are you doing up?” his voice was muffled slightly from the mask. 

You dropped your gym bag on the floor next to a bench of your own, “Same reason as you, I suppose,” you took a seat, kicking off your slides, “You sleep well?” 

He shook his head as he made his way over to you, “Didn’t sleep at all. You?” He definitely looked tired, something you could see even in the dark. His accent always gets a little thicker when he is nearing his limit. His words slurred together, a verbal representation of what his thoughts felt like. 

As he neared, you could make out more of his face. He looked younger than you had imagined. Softer, even. He still looked like a battle-hardened male, with strong edges and chiselled features. Just…less pirate-esque. 

He was handsome. From what you could see.   

You had to force yourself to look away from him. This was the most of his face you’d seen and it felt like you were seeing him naked. It felt personal.    

“Just an early bird. Did you just get here?” you toed into your shoes, leaning down to tighten the laces. You felt flurry butterflies in your stomach when his own shoes came into your line of vision. His proximity had you reminding yourself to behave. You’d had boyfriends and lovers before, but none of them made your toes curl like Simon Riley did. None of them made you dizzy with a mere look your way.   

“Got here a little while ago,” it was strange to see him outside of the usual military garb. It was stranger that it was strange. You’ve been working with the 141 for almost a year now and don’t know any more about him now than you did when you met him. You understood his personality and the complexity of him. His mannerisms have also become familiar to you, but you didn’t know very much about his civilian life. Or his life before the army.

He leaned his shoulder into the wall next to you, his arms crossed over his chest, “What are you working on?”

“Just cardio today, I’m still a little sore from you throwing me around the other day,” that and later today you’d be back to helping him with his training, “How much longer do you plan on being here?” 

“Sick of me already?” 

“No. Not at all,” you breathed out a laugh and looked up at him from your seat. His eyes were heavy as he looked down at you. You didn’t allow yourself to decipher whether it was from exhaustion or something a little more carnal. He was close enough to you that if you slid off the bench and onto your knees you’d be at just the right height to—

“I’m meeting up with Price in an hour,” his rumbling voice snapped you out of your fantasy.

You stood up from the bench, turning to face him fully. He watched your every move with fervored intent, his gaze dragging down your body, “Why? What do you need?” he drawled. 

The air in the room turned heavy as the two of you exchanged desperate, wordless pleas. This wasn’t the first time you and him found yourselves in this situation. Both of you fighting the urge to devour the other. Neither was brave enough to take the first step. 

He had an hour…

You took a step closer, close enough that if you lifted a finger you’d touch him. He stilled attention wholly on you now. With chilled fingers you lifted the hem of his sweater, running them up his still sweat-covered skin. You could feel his muscles retract at your cold touch, but he leaned into this feeling rather than pull away. He hissed and his eyes squeezed shut, his expression wanton. You dragged your nails across his chest, and one of his hands shot out to grasp yours, “What do you need?” he asked again, this time his voice dripped with honey.

…You could work with an hour. 

“You,” you breathed, the hand he left free sliding down to his waistband. You stopped before going further, head tilting to the side. You weren’t going to go any further until he said it was okay. 

He began to nod his head, “Take what—”

The doors to the training room creaked open and entered a soldier. His head was down, bobbing to whatever music was playing in his earbuds. The room was too dark for him to see you two clearly back here, but panic still exploded in your chest. You jumped back from Ghost like his skin burned you, your gazes locked onto each other. His eyes were wide. Wild with excitement and shock. You had a feeling your expression matched his. 

The soldier walked into the bathroom, blissfully unaware of the two shadows at the back of the room. Who were mere moments away from heavy petting and grinding. 

Your mood deflated, but when you turned back to Ghost, his breaths were coming in fast. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

He had been eager for you to touch him. The heavy bulge outlining his shorts was evidence enough. You feared your blush was bright enough that it was glowing. 

“Ghost,” you started but he was already reaching for you, pulling you until you were flush with him. Where you could feel his hard length for yourself, feel it press into your abdomen. He made an experimental roll of his hips, searching for any time of friction.

“How quiet can you be?” he huffed, his hands sliding from your arm to your ass, lifting you to your tippy toes so your core was closer to his. 

You stifled your moan with a hand, which should have been answer enough, “Not very.” 

Then he was moving, “Grab your stuff,” he was already moving to grab yours when his phone rang. The noise was offensive, and he swore when he took it out of his pocket. He shot you an apologetic look before answering, “Captain,” the heat in between your legs studdered and annoyance took its place. You could see his own frustrations at the situation, and at whatever Price had to say, “Sounds like a shitshow.” 

You plopped back down on the bench, defeated. Price would be whisking Ghost away now. When Ghost turned around to you one more time, you saw your opportunity. You quickly lifted the front of your shirt, flashing him. 

First, there was shock, but it was quickly followed by a cheeky grin. Not that you could see it, but you could tell it was hiding beneath that mask. He reached out a hand, his fingers dancing across your exposed skin. You shuddered underneath him as he rubbed a thumb across your hardening nipple. You bit down on your lip to keep the moan from spilling from your mouth. 

“Yeah,” he spoke into the phone, but his eyes were on you, analyzing your every action and reaction to him. You arched into him, and he immediately understood. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your hands dropped to between your legs, pressing your fingers into your weeping cunt through your pants. A wet spot already appearing. Your other hand covered his cock, using your whole hand to rub at him. 

He groaned but quickly covered it by clearing his throat, his brows knit together, “Understood,” he promptly hung up the phone. He jerked his chin at you, and ordered “Let me see.” 

You spread your legs apart, fingers still making slow circles. He grabbed at both your wrists, holding them away from both yours and his body. 

“You have no idea how bad I want you right now,” he growled.

“But you have to go,” you taunted. 

If Price called him at this time of day, it was probably urgent. Especially if they were going to meet in an hour anyway. 

He didn’t have to say anything for you to know you were right, “You’re not to touch yourself until we’re alone again.” 

He had every intention of finishing this off. He just needed to go deal with whatever Price was needing him for. And he wanted you to be desperate for it when it happened. He wanted you to be thinking about him all day. He wanted you to be a mess for him. 

“How long will that take?” you twisted your hips, bringing yourself to the edge of the seat, using it you grind yourself on. He yanked you up off the chair. He wasn’t going to allow you to have any sort of pleasure. 

“I’ll be back for the training this afternoon,” he maneuvered you both so you were standing in front of the mirror, your arms now pinned behind your back, shirt still hiked up. Your chest, fully exposed. He towered over you from behind, his presence remained domineering. You watched yourself in the mirror. The position was entirely submissive. Vulnerable. He had barely done anything and you already looked fucked out. 

He pulled your arms tighter so your back bowed, his free hand coming to cup a breast, squeezing hard, “Say it,” he ran his hand to your inner thigh, this thumb grazing your now throbbing pussy. 

“I won’t touch myself,” you were about to start begging him.  

“That’s a good girl,” he purred. 

The soldier from before walked back out of the bathroom having changed into his workout clothes. 

Ghost made no move to cover you back up. The soldier still had yet to notice you two at the back but your heart still hammered against your chest. Adrenaline flooded your bloodstream once more.  

Finally, he pulled down the front of your shirt for you before letting go of your wrists. You nearly collapsed to the floor, your knees threatening to betray you. He guided you back to the bench, “Get out of here before I change my mind and I end up being late.” 

Hand to Hand

A/N - I have every intention of making a third part to this. But I want to make this as immersive as possible so you guys are going to have to wait just like the reader 😈

Taglist - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎  @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes ❤︎ @adelaidai ❤︎ @ddioriez ❤︎ @johfaam0 ❤︎ @purplefishingline ❤︎ @dog55teeth​ ❤︎ @meaganjean ❤︎ @mymommmy​ ❤︎ @xheera ❤︎ @lockleywife ❤︎ @crunchlite ❤︎ @ryethebrokengae ❤︎ @mychrysanthemums  

[brokebonewritings]

Be Mine, Forever?

Matt Murdock x Reader

Tags/ Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fluff, Valentine's Day Special

Summary: Your day is interrupted by an impromptu girl's day. and your night is filled with passion as Matt surprises you for Valentine's Day. You had a surprise for him as well. Song: Here (In Your Arms) - First Dance by Hellogoodbye

Word Count: 4.4K

Navigation | Series Masterlist

The day started normally enough. Of course, Valentine’s day fell on a week day this year so you were stuck at work. You sent Matt a few ‘Good Morning’ and ‘Happy Valentine's Day’ texts, but it's been radio silence from the other end. This was expected though, since he had already informed you that he was going to be in court all day. 

You sit back at your desk, you've been preparing all month for a new exhibit at The Met. The plans that spread across your desk puzzle you as you try to figure out where to place each case and art piece.

As you meticulously arrange the plans for the new exhibit, your mind can't help but wander back to Matt. The silence from him is starting to feel unusual, as he's always been the one to send you sweet messages and surprises on special occasions. But you brush it off, he's never disappointed you.

Just as you're about to finalize the placement of the last art piece, Marci rushes into your office, a mix of urgency and excitement in her eyes. "Hey!"

"How did you get in here?" You respond with a raised eyebrow. "Did my assistant let you in?"

Just as you finish your question Justin, your assistant, rushes in behind her. "I am so sorry. I tried stopping her, but she is so fast in those heels."

"Lawyer walk." Both you and Marci say in unison. 

She turns back to you with a smile plastered on her face. "I need you to come with me for the rest of the day."

"Marci, I can't just leave work in the middle of the day." You cross your arms over your chest.

"Oh yes you can, I already spoke to your boss! So come on." She grabs your coat that's by the door, along with your umbrella. "We got things to do, come on."

You sigh and thank Justin for trying, and invite him to also take the rest of the day off. Which he does happily.

"So what are we even going to do?" You ask. Grabbing your bag, and putting away your belongings.

"Well we're gonna go get ready for our Valentine's Date Nights, duh." She helps you get your coat on, and you both were off. "I just know that Foggy, and Matt are planning something special for us."

You smile at the thought. "Have you heard from Foggy today? I know they had a busy day."

"Not a word. You didn't hear it from me, but apparently their client is very demanding of their time."

"Oh shit, really?" 

You loved the gossip you got from your lawyer friends. Not that it was filled with a ton of details. Client/Lawyer confidentiality and all that.

"Mhm, Needs lots of attention to detail." She says before dragging you into a nail salon. You realize how nice this salon is after looking around. "Hey, wait, I don't think I'm gonna be able to afford this right now. Trying to save up for a new apartment with Matt, remember?"

She laughs before checking the both of you in for the appointment she had already made. "Who said you were paying? It's all on me today, hun."

"Oh my god, no way! I seriously cannot accept this."

"Too late! It's already done, you don't wanna ruin this day for me do you?" She pouts after turning back to you.

You sigh and shake your head. "Thank you, this is incredibly kind of you."

"Don't even mention it. I wanna make sure we both are dolled up!"

You're both called back after about 5 minutes. The salon was nicer than you thought. When you had both settled at the manicure station, they had offered you both a glass of champagne. Who were you not to accept a free glass?

It was truly relaxing, you were glad that Marci got you out of work early. You both spent the next two hours getting your nails prepped for a night out. Usually you don't get long nails since you work with your hands most of the time, but she insisted you get something more elegant. You couldn't refuse since she was the one paying.

Just as the nail technician finished with your right hand, your phone buzzed on the table beside you. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Matt's name flashing on the screen. You quickly picked it up and answered, not wanting it to go to voicemail.

"Hey! Happy Valentine's Day!" You chirp happily. "How is court?"

There was a brief pause before Matt's voice came through, heavy with exhaustion. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart." It's been chaos. I couldn't even find a moment to catch my breath."

You let out a sigh of relief, understanding his predicament. "Then I guess tonight will be a good night to cash in one of those massages I owe you, huh?"

Hearing the low rumble of his chuckle sent chills through your body. "Yeah, guess it will be." He pauses. "I was wondering if you would meet me on the roof tonight, like we used to?"

"Yeah, of course I will." You blush, it has been a while since you both sat on the roof together. "What time do you want me there?"

"8:30. There is room for you to be fashionably late, of course."

You let out a giggle. "Yeah okay, 8:30 then. I'll see you then."

"I love you." He says with a loving sigh.

"I love you too." You respond before hanging up.

"Soooooo," Marci pipes up. "Romantic Dinner?"

The blush was still tinting your face from the conversation. "Yeah, on his rooftop."

"That sounds lovely, very romantic."

As you finish up at the nail salon, Marci insists on taking you to a cafe nearby. She called it a Galentine's Brunch, just the girls. When you both arrived, you were surprised to see that Karen was able to join you. 

"I thought you were in court with Matt, and Fog?"

"Oh no, I told them I wouldn't be in today. Playing hookie." She laughed lightly. "Besides, Im not going to deny Marci a girls brunch. We need it."

As you settled into the cozy booth at the cafe, sipping on your latte, the three of you began catching up on each other's lives. Karen shared stories about her latest investigative assignment, Marci talked about her recent courtroom victories, and you filled them in on the details of the upcoming exhibit at The Met.

Marci nudges you playfully. "Have you thought about what you're going to wear?" she asks with a mischievous smile.

You shake your head, realizing that you've been so caught up in work and the surprise day off that you haven't even considered your outfit. 

"I just figured I would wear what I was wearing right now."

"You're joking." Marci says. "You have to wear something else. Not saying that what you're wearing right now isn't cute, but this is Valentine's Day."

"Yeah you gotta wear something he can undress you with" Karen chimes in with a mischievous smile. "Cause you know he'll love it if you wore something hot."

"Okay, okay. I have been saving a silk dress for a special occasion."

"Silk? I gotta see this." Marci says forcefully.

You pull out your phone and find the dressing room photo you took of the dress in question. It was a lavender colored dress with a cowl neckline. They both stare at the photo then back to you.

"Where have you been hiding that!" Karen says in disbelief.

"In the back of my closet." You respond with a laugh. "I just didn't know how to style it."

"I will simply just have to come over and help you with that." Marci states. 

"And." You pause. "There's matching lingerie."

They both squeal before you change the subject back to Marci and Foggy's plans for the evening.

You stare in the mirror at the dress you had shown Marci, and Karen earlier in the day.They had left about an hour ago to get ready for their own plans. Not without them giving your outfit their seal of approval though. 

Sitting on your bed, you pull on the heels Marci had carefully chosen. This was going to be a good night, but you didn't know why the butterflies in your stomach felt so prominent. You haven't been this nervous since you started dating Matt.

Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that there's nothing to worry about. It's just a rooftop date with the love of your life. You run a hand down the front of your dress, feeling its smooth texture against your skin.

As you do your makeup, you can't help but replay all the beautiful moments you've shared with Matt. From late-night conversations under the stars to stolen kisses on the rooftop, every memory fills you with warmth and love. Tonight is just another chapter in your story together, a celebration of your deep connection.

With your hair styled in loose waves, you stand in front of the full-length mirror and admire the final look. The dress drapes perfectly over your figure, accentuating your best features. You feel confident, more confident than you've felt in years.

You look at the clock on your nightstand, and see that it just hit 8:00. Perfect. You grab your bag and set out walking towards his apartment building.

The city is alive with the energy of Valentine's Day. Lovers walk hand in hand, their laughter and joy filling the air. As you make your way through the bustling streets, you can't help but smile. The anticipation in your heart grows with every step.

Finally, you arrive at Matt's apartment building. Taking a deep breath, you enter and climb the stairs towards the rooftop. The familiar sound of the door creaking open greets you as you step onto the familiar space that holds so many precious memories.

The sun has already set, casting a magical glow over the city skyline. The soft twinkle of lights fills the air, creating an atmosphere that feels straight out of a fairy tale. And there he is, standing near the edge of the rooftop, tall and handsome as ever.

Matt turns as he hears your footsteps approaching. A smile spreads across his face, lighting up his eyes in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. That's when you realize that you're not alone. You turn to see that your friends are there. Not only your friends but also your Aunt May and Peter.

"What is happening right now?" You say with a nervous laugh.

"Sweetheart," You hear him say and you turn back and give him your full attention. "I have been meaning to do this for a while, but I didn't know how to go about it."

"Matt, are you?" You begin before he cuts you off with a kiss.

"Ever since I met you I have been so entranced by you.You've brought so much light and love into my life, and I can't imagine a future without you by my side," Matt says, his voice filled with sincerity. He takes a step back, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small velvet box. Opening it to reveal a dainty opal ring, he drops to one knee.

You stand there for a moment, wondering if this was actually happening or if you were have a really specific dream.

"Will you marry me?" Matt asks, his voice filled with vulnerability and love.

The world around you seems to fade away as you lock eyes with him, feeling a mixture of excitement and overwhelming joy. The weight of his question hangs in the air, and time seems to stand still.

Tears well up in your eyes as you try to find your voice. This moment feels like a dream, but the warmth in your heart tells you it's all too real. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the question like a beautiful promise.

"Yes," you whisper, barely able to contain your joy. "Yes, Matt, I will marry you."

The rooftop erupts in cheers and he stands and slips the ring onto your finger. You glance around, realizing that they had all conspired together to create this magical moment. Aunt May wipes away a tear of happiness while Peter grins ear to ear. Marci and Karen are practically jumping up and down with excitement, their eyes shining with joy. Foggy is trying to conceal his tears by wiping his eyes with his sleeves.

Embracing Matt tightly, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. This rooftop, once a place of solace and refuge for the two of you, now holds even more significance. It symbolizes the foundation of your future together, a place where love can blossom and dreams can be realized.

Amidst the cheers and laughter, you take a moment to soak in the beauty of this milestone in your relationship. The twinkling lights of the city below seem to dance in celebration, mirroring the joy in your hearts.

"This is so epic, and I got it all on video." Peter says amidst the celebration.

As the cheers die down, Aunt May steps forward, her eyes glistening with tears. "Oh, darling" she says, her voice filled with emotion. "I couldn't be happier for you both. You deserve all the love in the world. Your father would have loved Matt."

"Thanks Aunt May." You say with a tearful smile.

As the rooftop continues to buzz with excitement and congratulations, you and Matt share a tender moment together. He pulls you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. You feel safe and cherished as you rest your head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat echoing in your ears.

"I love you so much," Matt murmurs softly, his voice filled with emotion. "And I promise to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

You look up at him, your eyes filled with adoration. "I love you too, Matt," you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. "And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

After the shared dinner with all of your friends and family, you all decide it's time to head home to spend the rest of Valentine's Day in the comfort of your homes.

Saying goodbye to everyone, you and Matt clean the roof top and share a few intimate moments with kisses and lingering touches.

On your way back down the stairs, you can feel Matt's presence hovering over you. So you stop for a moment and turn to see what he is doing. As you turn, you feel his hand slide up your jaw as he pushes you against the wall. You gasp as he presses himself against you, one hand around your neck and the other sitting on your waist.

"Ive been waiting all day to be alone with you." He growls into your ear before kissing you roughly.

Your heart races as his lips claim yours, a hunger and desire that electrifies your senses. The intensity of his touch against the coolness of the wall sends shivers down your spine.

His hands explore every inch of your body, igniting a fire within you that only he can quench. The urgency and longing in his kisses leave you breathless.

With each touch, each caress, the connection between you deepens. Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, driven by a love that transcends words.

As he pulls away, you feel dizzy with the intensity of his attack. "We need to get back to your apartment." You state.

"Oh do we?" He questions. "I have no problem ravishing you right here in this stairwell."

You huff, as you stare at his smirking face. "I would actually love for you to ruin this dress, but in the comfort of our bed."

"Our bed?" 

"Yes, our bed." You smirk as you push his hands away and begin to walk back to his apartment.

He follows closely behind you, his eyes never leaving your body. The desire he has for you is palpable, and it fuels you as well. As you pass each door, you can't help but imagine what would happen behind your own.

Approaching his door, you grab the keys from his hand and begin to unlock the door.

"I promise, I'll ruin that dress, right here," he whispers in your ear, causing you to shiver.

You hear the click of it unlocking as you turn to him, "Well, Mr. Devil. Ruin the dress then." you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

As the door creaks open, the sound echoes throughout the hallway, the anticipation in the air is palpable. Together, you step inside and kick the door shut behind you. He pins you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body like a man possessed.

He seems desperate to claim you, to conquer every inch of you. You're aching for him too, the want and need between you undeniable. You need his touch, his kiss, his warmth. You're completely vulnerable to him, ready to give yourself to him in every way.

His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, his hands holding your neck as your fingers dig into his shirt. You break the kiss, both of you panting heavily, your hearts pounding in sync. 

"I love you so much," you whisper, your voice shaking with emotion.

"And I love you more," Matt replies, his voice filled with warmth and devotion.

With that his hands grip the top of your dress and he pulls, ripping the dress down the front. You moan at the intensity of the moment. He really did ruin the dress.

You're left in the lingerie you had on underneath as the dress drops to the floor. He takes a moment before feeling up your sides and realizes what you have on.

"Oh you dirty girl." He groans. "You wanted this to happen tonight, didn't you?"

You smile, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Maybe I did"

"Well, I'm not complaining." He says slowly. "You have no idea how hard this is making me."

"I think I have some idea." You say as you lift your knee, feeling his erection already straining under the fabric of his pants.

His hand maneuvers down to pull your lingerie to the side, revealing your most intimate parts. "I'm going to make you scream, baby."

With that, he lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom. The moment you step into the room, he drops you onto the bed and crawls on top of you.

"I want you so bad," he growls into your mouth. You feel his erection pressing into your thigh, and you're more than ready for him.

He breaks the kiss and starts to unbutton his shirt, you lay back watching as he undresses himself. What a sight it was, he could have been a Greek god.

Once he's stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you again, his hand traveling down your body, tracing patterns on your skin as he does. His fingers run along the edge of your underwear and you shudder at the sensation.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulls them down, revealing your naked body to him. He leans down and begins to kiss your inner thigh, nuzzling into the most inner part.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his thumbs brushing against your waist.

Before you can respond, his tongue swipes up against your core. You gasp at the sudden electricity of the situation. He repeats the motion, his tongue swirling around your clit in slow, steady circles. Your hips start to rise in response, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. You arch your back, moaning softly.

Matt responds with a gentle growl, his fingers still moving against your waist, caressing your skin. He reaches down and slowly pushes two fingers inside you, drawing out a loud moan.

His other hand moves to your breast, gently squeezing and kneading it. You mewl, your body trembling with need. His tongue continues to dance around your most sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh, Matt," you moan, "I need you inside me."

He stops his ministrations, lifting his head towards you. "Not yet," he says, standing up and helping you off the bed. "I want to make you beg for it."

He leads you over to a table by the window, bending you over it. The cool glass feels amazing against your naked skin, as you're exposed to the room with your legs spread apart.

Matt positions himself behind you after dropping his boxers. You can feel his erection pressing against your ass, precum leaking out. You know he's ready for it.

"You're going to make me come so hard," you whisper.

He rubs his tip against your entrance, teasing you, making you crave him even more. Sliding his cock between your folds. You push back against him for any sort of friction.

A loud crack echoes through the apartment. His hand lingers, massaging the area he just spanked. "You need to be a good girl for me. Or else the next one will be a lot harder. Do you understand?"

You nod, pleasure spread across your face as you lean against the table. 

"Good girl, sweetheart. Such a good listener."

Beginning to slide against you once again, you hold back every instinct to push back against him. With every teasing thrust, you feel electrified, your desire for him only growing. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves every moment.

He slowly begins to tease your hole as you stand there whimpering. Pushing the head inside you, and quickly taking it out.

"Please, Matt, fuck me," you plead. "I can't take it anymore."

He pulls away, a devious grin on his face. "Not yet," he says, kissing the side of your face.

He picks you up, carrying you over to the bed. He lays you down, spreading your legs wide apart and kneeling between them.

"I need you to beg. Okay, sweetheart?" He says and you nod.

He slips two fingers into you, pumping and curling to find your sweet spot. You cry out in pleasure as he hits you right where it feels good. 

"Please, oh god, Matt" You moan loudly. "I'm going to come, please I need you in me."

That must have been enough for him. With a low growl, Matt plunges into you, filling you up to the hilt. He thrusts deep inside you in one swift motion, the bed frame creaking under the force of his passion.

He pulls out almost immediately, leaving you emptiness. "Please," you beg, wanting more.

He chuckles softly, teasing you by running his cockhead up and down your slit. "Patience, sweetheart. I want this to last."

He thrusts back into you, moving slowly, savoring every moment. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

The way his cock pulsed inside of you was almost too much to bear. He began to pick up the pace, each thrust harder than the last.

You let out a loud, trembling moan, your head falling back as pleasure washed over you. 

"I love you," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

"I love you too," you choke out, the emotions taking over you.

He picks up his pace, driving into you harder and faster, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. Your body responds in kind, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

"I'm going to come," you gasp, your voice breaking as your orgasm starts to build.

Matt's thumb found your sensitive clit, sending you soaring towards the edge. "Come for me, baby." he growls.

You let out a wail, your nails digging into his back as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your inner walls clenched around him, milking him as you shook uncontrollably.

He continued to thrust into you, driving you further over the edge. Your orgasm seemed to go on forever, your body writhing beneath him in pure ecstasy.

Finally, he slides out of you, leaving your inner walls quivering. He pulls you into his arms, holding you close as your heartbeats sync.

You lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking.

"My ass hurts." You after taking a deep breath. He begins to chuckle as you giggle. 

"Sorry, too much?"

"Not at all."

"Good" He says as he pulls you closer and peppers your face with kisses.

As you lay there entwined in each other's arms, your skin still flushed and sweaty, you can't help but smile. This was more than just sex; it was a powerful expression of love and intimacy.

Matt pulls away and smiles, a look of pure contentment on his face. "I just can't get enough of you." 

You giggle and wrap your arms around him, feeling safe and loved in his embrace.

"Can we talk about the fact that we're engaged now?"

"I've been planning it for the last 2 weeks with Foggy, Peter, and your Aunt May."

"There is no way that Peter kept a secret for that long. How did you even manage that."

"You can thank your aunt for that one. She basically grounded him from texting you."

This made you both laugh. "You know, I'm gonna have to get used to being called Mrs. Murdock."

A smile spreads across his face, "I'm already getting used to it."

As he pulls you in for another kiss, you can't help but feel a rush of emotion. This man. This strong, protective, and passionate man, is now your fiancé. The thought brings a smile to your face, and you wrap your arms around him even tighter.

"I can't wait to see what the future holds for us," you whisper.

He pulls away slightly, a gentle smile on his face. "The future is ours, my love. And I promise to love and cherish you, always."

"Though I do have one complaint."

"And what is that?" He raises an eyebrow.

"You never asked me to be your valentine."

Chuckling, he pulls your hips closer before whispering in your ear. "Be Mine, Forever?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

join my taglist!

[heartbreakgrill]

stiles stilinksi: breakable heaven; part 5, “i don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you.”

a/n: enjoy this bc it’s gonna be sad boi hours in the next part ;)

tagging: @ariianelle

the world shifted, just a little bit.

stiles and y/n found themselves spending a lot more time together. granted, that time was often under the sheets, in a locked car, or- just once- in the locker room after a game. nonetheless, the skin on skin contact always led to conversations, conversations that were deepening in content. they were getting to know each other, forming an attachment both swore would never even exist.

as the time passed, they each found solace in one another, a comfort, a sort of destressor that neither was able to substitute with anyone or anything else. neither were aware of this, but it was as present as the air.

y/n's parents were always out of town, and, while she didn’t have any doubts that they loved and supported her, they were absentee. they missed out on the everyday moments in her life. so, she was usually all by herself through it all. sure, danny came over every once and while, but there were still those periods of time where she was left, literally in the middle of nowhere, all alone. stiles was a warm body to sit next to, an attentive ear to listen to her troubles or woes, without judgement or expectations. he was just there. whenever she needed or wanted.

and, for stiles, y/n was just a human being. she didn't have claws, fangs, premonitions about his friends' deaths, or any other intense, supernatural features. this fact he was positive of since he’d had both scott and derek invade and smell her locker to ensure she was really a living, breathing, human girl.

with all he had to deal with, every single day, he was grateful to get to act like a normal teenage boy some days out of the week. laughing instead of fighting for his life, watching movies instead of drawing up investigation boards.

today was one of those bad days, for the both of them. a bad day where they just needed each other.

the number of killings in beacon hills was rising, rapidly, day by grueling day. and there wasn’t much stiles could do to help. he could ramble, on and on, about the mindless theories rattling around inside his head. he could tag along to random warehouses and parking lots, only to hide away once the real conflict began.

but, he was overall useless to the entire process.

it made his shoulders a little heavier some days, to know he had no control over anything anymore. scott could take away pain, lydia could help save somebody before they died, allison could shoot down three different wolves with the same arrow.

stiles could only talk.

today was one of those days where he just felt kind of shitty about it all.

dr. deaton was missing. and there wasn’t much of anything stiles could do to help. he felt like he always just got in the way.

y/n was in a similar boat.

her parents were out of town for the third week now. they’d promised to be home this past weekend, and had talked y/n up with a week full of dinners, family outings, a visit to her school, normal things that parents normally did with their normal children. of course, they’d cancelled on her last minute because of some conference across the world. she’d asked danny to come stay for the week, but he said he couldn’t. he was going out of town with ethan.

she felt abandoned.

usually, y/n would sulk, by herself, with take out, a round of depressing movies, and homework she didn’t really feel like doing. sometimes, she’d even beg her boss to let her come in for a shift.

but, it was saturday evening, so the staffing was already full for the rest of the night.

so, she texted stiles.

y/n: pls tell me ur bored

stiles: what time?

y/n: anytime :)

stiles: omw gorgeous

–

“alright, i’ve got it.”

stiles plopped down onto the couch beside y/n, bowl of popcorn in left hand, a can of dr. pepper in the right. he crossed his ankles and stretched his legs onto the coffee table. y/n sat criss-cross beside him and extended part of the blanket she wore onto his lap. stiles set the bowl down atop his covered thighs.

“oh, yeah, what’s that?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

y/n pointed to the television, and he followed her gaze. netflix was open on the bright screen, with a movie queued up. “the first scream.”

stiles nodded appreciatively, until she added, “aka, the best slasher film of all time.”

he squinted his face and shook his head rapidly, “i cannot believe you just said that!”

y/n giggled at his expression, “don’t even argue with me right now!”

“it’s hard not to argue with someone who is so blatantly wrong!” he replied.

y/n stole the popcorn from his lap, “thats not even a good counter. at least make a decent rebuttal!”

“okay,” he peered over at her with a matter-of-fact look, “halloween is the best slasher because;” he counted each point off on his fingers, it has a cooler villain, better kill sequences, and the hottest final girl.”

y/n rolled her eyes, and shoved his shoulder with her own, “you just like it cause of jamie lee curtis’ boob scene.”

stiles pursed his lips, “they are pretty great.”

“but they didn’t need to add nudity to that movie! that’s so sexist and gross to support that idea, you pig.”

stiles stole a handful of popcorn, shoveling it into his mouth. “what can i say, im a boob guy.”

if she didn’t know him so well, she’d think stiles, in this moment, was kinda gross. but, she recognized his humor better than most. she appreciated that it was sarcasm. and, he kinda looked cute with his cheeks full of popcorn.

y/n blushed at the comment, looking down slightly, “oh, i know.” boy, did she.

he tapped the edge of the bowl, garnering her attention again, “don’t do that.”

her brows furrowed, meeting his eyes, “do what?”

“don’t be dirty. i don’t think we’ll make it through the movie if you start acting up.” as his words drifted out, stiles’ tone of voice lowered. he leaned his head closer to hers and the corner of his lips turned up in a devilish smirk.

y/n grinned in response. she grabbed the back of his neck, smashing her lips into his, drawing a sharp breath off his tongue. stiles moaned into her, barely catching the popcorn before it could spill. his other hand clutched his dr. pepper, so he didn’t have much leverage against her advances.

stiles clambered around until he found the coffee table, shoving the popcorn bowl atop it. “wait, wait, wait-“ stiles gently grabbed her biceps, tugging her off of him delicately.

y/n’s face fell instantly. she cowered away, hugging herself with her arms. she thought that was what he wanted, but now it seemed he was mad. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry- i didn’t-“

“no, no, no,” stiles set a wary hand between them. “you didn’t do anything wrong. you’re okay, it’s okay.”

“i’m sorry,” she slouched, frowning. she relaxed a little bit, but the moment still worried her. “i thought that’s what you wanted?”

stiles shook his head and grabbed her hand, holding it between his like a prayer. “no, no- i mean- yes. i want you, i always- want you. but, i don’t- i don’t want you to feel pressured to do that all the time. i want to watch a movie with you. i like just hanging out, too. i don’t just expect sex out of you. that’s not all this is-“

stiles pressed his lips together. he always said too much.

always said too much.

y/n let out a breath she had been holding at the top of her chest. her mind raced with a thousand words she didn’t how to say.

this changed everything. the rules were blurred. the lines were crossed.

and it now seemed that, maybe, just maybe, he wanted her like she wanted him.

all she could say was, “okay.”

she didn’t want to rush things. she didn’t want to force him to label it. she didn’t want to get in over her head, throw her hopes up, and get let down again.

stiles’ worried expression fell into a gentle smile, “okay, hey, i’ll even let you think scream is the best slasher film, just for the night.”

an easy giggle fell out of her. “deal.”

stiles fixed the blanket across their laps that had fallen off slightly, while y/n tucked her legs up onto the seat, cozy against the back of the couch.

he stretched an arm across the back of her seat, inching over to her slyly. y/n bit back a smile and leaned into his side. stiles choked back a cough, a strangled attempt to clear his throat. he set his arm around her, fingers lingering over her shoulder.

the movie started.

it took them a few minutes to loosen after that moment. but, eventually, they fell back into their same routine- stiles made lame jokes, y/n nearly fell over laughing at all of them. he compared scream to halloween, calling out which parts would probably be better with a michael myers killer instead of ghost face. she argued back that he was a sore loser.

eventually, the movie was drawing to a close. the credit scene was just about to roll across the television screen when y/n’s phone started ringing from the coffee table. she jumped slightly, a little spooked from the movie, though she’d seen it a million times.

stiles tossed his head back, laughing over her fright. she shot him a dirty look as she reached for her phone. he took his arm off of her, but patted her thigh in a mocking manner. “don’t worry, i’ll protect you.”

y/n shoved his arm playfully, but her attention was drawn away by the contact showing up on her screen. ethan was calling her.

“give me a second,” she mumbled, leaving the room with confusion written all over face.

stiles watched her go, sitting forward on the couch. her distant tone worried him a moment. he pulled out his own phone, hoping for something from scott. updates, suspects, something. hoping the plague wasn’t going to reach her, too.

his screen was black.

stiles wanted to tell her about everything. maybe he should. it would explain his erratic, anxious, flakey behavior.

but, telling her would bring her into it.

and he didn’t know how well he could protect her.

so, the secret was just his for now.

stiles opened scott’s contact, ready to give him a quick call, just in case, when y/n reentered the room. “hey, everything okay?” he barely glanced up at her, but had to do a double take when he noticed how she looked.

y/n was shaking, visibly, clutching her phone in her right hand, which was still held up near her ear as though she was about to answer the phone again. a few tears escaped her eyes, and her pupils were dilated with fear and sadness.

“y/n?” stiles stood up, slowly, tone rattled.

had his troubles finally plagued her, too? was the one sacred, peaceful thing he had finally tainted by the cruelty of his reality? a million worried, terrified thoughts sped through his mind.

y/n met his eye, “danny’s in the hospital. he-he almost died. hi-his l-lung collapsed.”

stiles moved quickly. he carefully took her by the waist, guided her into a pair of shoes, into his jeep. he stayed attentive to her the entire car ride. he played her taylor swift, nearly sat at a 180° angle while he drove, kept a firm hand on her thigh, and spoke to her in a soothing tone. y/n was nearly mute. she didn’t know what to say or what to do. she was just too stunned.

it was always shocking to discover that death could just come knocking on the door whenever it felt like it.

when they finally reached the hospital, stiles opened the car door for her. she grabbed onto his hand, following him into the building.

no one was allowed to visit with danny, at least not until the morning. unfortunately, his parents were out of town, like y/n’s, and couldn’t get back until monday. so y/n and ethan were all danny had until then.

“so, he’s gonna be okay?” stiles scratched the back of his neck nervously, knee bouncing.

y/n sat beside him in a waiting room chair, clutching his other hand till her knuckles were white. they stared up at melissa, awaiting her answer.

melissa returned their stare them with a kind smile, “he’s gonna be just fine. we’re gonna keep him overnight, just to monitor him. but, he’ll be alright.”

y/n took a deep breath. her head fell back against the wall, eyes squeezing shut in relief. melissa nodded once, reassuring them again, before turning to leave. she squeezed stiles’ shoulder as she went.

stiles turned his body to y/n, taking her hand in both of his. she finally met his eye. he was glad to see hers, the storm within them more weathered now, calmer like the water right after a wave. he smiled slightly.

“hey,” he whispered.

y/n finally smiled back. “hey. i’m…sorry if i freaked you out. i don’t do well with near-death experiences. i’m kind of a pussy.”

she laughed at herself, head dropping down in shane. stiles disagreed quickly, “no, no, hey,” he pushed the hair from y/n’s cheek, cupped her face, guided her eyes back to his, “you’re not a pussy. you’re a human being. you were scared and worried for your friend. i’m not judging for how you reacted. i just want to know you’re okay.”

she nodded, “i’m okay. just- tired, now. that was overwhelming. sitting here for an hour, waiting to hear if my best friend was dead or not.”

stiles brushed his thumb over her cheek, “i know, baby, i know.”

the word slipped so easily off his tongue, that he didn’t notice. y/n did, but she wouldn’t allow herself to get bent out shape over it. there was no time for that right now.

“i’m gonna stay here with him tonight.”

stiles moved his hand back to their entwined ones, “i’ll wait with you.”

y/n shook her head in disagreement, “i can’t ask that-“

“you didn’t ask,” he interrupted her, pointedly.

y/n went to say something else when scott disrupted their moment. he came out of danny’s room, nearly appearing out of thin air. stiles could tell he was on edge.

“stiles, hey, i was just about to call you,” he said, glancing between the both of them. “sorry about danny, y/n.”

“thanks,” she smiled slightly, though she was confused. “how did you get in to see-“

“stiles,” scott pretended to not hear her, turning his attention to his friend, “we need to talk.”

stiles patted y/n’s hand gently, “i’ll be right back, okay?”

he stood to leave her, but she didn’t let go of his hand. she held on until he was too far to reach. before he followed scott down the hall, however, he turned back, shrugging off his jacket.

“i know you’re gonna need this,” he murmured, tucking it around her shoulders.

y/n watched him walk away with scott, a dazed smile on her face.

things might be working out.

–

stiles had to leave. at least, scott needed stiles to leave. derek, isaac, boyd, and cora were planning a trap or something of the sort, and they needed to go help them. stiles needed to go help his friends.

but he didn’t want to.

for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to help. he wanted to stay here, in the hospital, with her. he wanted to hold her hand, sleep in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, until the second they could visit danny. until the sun shone on her beautiful face.

stiles didn’t want to stand on the sidelines while his friends blood splattered across the walls around him. he especially didn’t want to watch somebody die tonight.

but, he didn’t protest when scott ushered him out of the building.

he had to do what he always had to do. it was expected. necessary.

like a sacrifice.

–

y/n tucked danny’s sheets around his chin like a mother would, before standing back to look at her work, proudly.

“you’re clinically insane,” he glared at her. the eye bags drearing his face were more prominent in the lighting coming from the lamp on his bedside table. y/n frowned deeply at the sight of him, so tired, nearly lifeless before her.

“you’re my little baby,” she cooed, sitting down beside him on the bed. it took everything in her not to squeeze his cheeks.

“i am a man,” he denied her.

y/n waved him off, “whatever helps you sleep. listen-“ she stood up, collecting her phone and keys off his bedside table, “i will be right down the hall. do not even hesitate to ask me for anything. water, a hug, maybe some cuddles-“

“go to sleep. you look like a walking corpse.”

y/n felt like one. they’d just gotten home the hospital, and it was 8pm on sunday. the waiting room chair had been uncomfortable, and she had felt a little off with the absence of stiles’ warm hands and soft words. so, she didn’t sleep very well. plus, sitting beside danny’s bed all day while they ran tests just added to the tired stress she was feeling.

but, the solace of his smell on his hoodie, and his sporadic text messages, got her through it all. he checked in once an hour, every hour. his phrasing was short, though, and he didn’t reply very quickly. but, stiles was still there. he was there for her.

now, y/n felt like she was going to collapse. so, she softly shut danny’s door behind her and headed for the guest room. it was right next door. she was too scared to leave him alone, so she was going to stay until his parents got home tomorrow night. she was even skipping school to look after him. ethan was going to stop by in the morning, today, he, apparently, had been caught up with something.

she didn’t really trust him. but that was a problem for another day.

y/n slipped out of her fresh pajama bottoms to get ready for bed because it was usually pretty warm in danny’s house. though she kept stiles’ hoodie on.

that morning, at the hospital, nurse mccall had delivered y/n’s book bag, packed neatly with a few essentials, like pjs, her toothbrush, her phone charger, to danny’s room.

stiles had gone out of his way to ensure she had her things how he’d gotten into her house? she didn’t know, and she didn’t really want to question it. she was just grateful he thought of her at all.

y/n shut the light off and got comfy under the covers. just as she went to shut off her phone, a phone call came through.

stiles.

“hello?” she whispered, voice too tired to speak too loud. y/n lay her head upon the pillow, shoving the phone between her ear and it. she felt her eyes closing.

“hey.”

the sound of his voice brought her so much comfort. the exhaustion was takning over now.

“how are you doing?” was the first thing he asked.

y/n smiled, which was visible through her words as she spoke, “better now.”

“oh, yeah?” stiles teased gently. “i was just checking in. was worried about you.”

“i was worried about you,” she emphasized, “is everything okay? nurse mccall said you had to handle something.”

everything was no okay. stiles had watched derek kill boyd just hours ago. luckily, they’d saved dr. deaton, and found a few more clues that would surely lead them to the serial killer rampaging their town.

but his classmate- his friend- was dead. and he watched it all happen. he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

but, e couldn’t tell her that.

though, she noticed a shift in his voice, “yeah, just something stupid. scott was having girl problems.”

y/n didn’t believe him.

she was noticing more and more that he was always disappearing, running off to do stuff that he wouldn’t tell her about. his cover stories never made much sense, either.

the thought that he was keeping secrets from her made y/n feel wary, made her want to pull away.

but, then he’d say something like, “i’m more worried about you, baby.”

and she was easily pulled back in.

“don’t,” she murmured. her eyes fell all the way shut. she was drifting off to sleep, the sound of his voice a sweet lullaby to her ears.

stiles smiled to himself. he imagined holding her in his arms, brushing the hair from her face as he watched her fall into a beautiful slumber. it comforted him.

but, when he focused his mind again, he was back in the cold, dark animal shelter, which was barren of any good feelings like the ones he could only day dream of for now.

he thought about telling her, again. but after what happened today, he wasn’t feeling very confident about it. he really, really could not lose her.

he just couldn’t.

“you should get to sleep,” stiles spoke.

scott motioned for him. so, stiles added, “i have to get going.”

“i miss you.” y/n was half asleep, completely unconscious to any words falling off her tongue.

stiles’ smiled again. “i miss you, too. hey, i’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? maybe we can watch the next scream.”

she didn’t have the energy to respond.

“you there, y/n?”

no response.

stiles figured she was asleep. “well, since you’re not there, i guess i can say…i really like you.”

y/n heard.

and she’d never tell.

she liked him, too.

but, what secrets was he keeping from her?

[maidflowery]

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🄱🄰🄲🄺 🅃🄾 【Ｐｒｏｌｏｇｕｅ】

𝕋𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥

𝗔𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺, 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺—𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝗴𝘂𝘆 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁—𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲. 𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗱, 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿, 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗳𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗲𝗼𝗻 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀. 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲. 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗸. 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗹𝗱.

╔══ ≪ ♤♤♤ ≫ ══╗

Yours was a meeting not meant to be.

“���Should we check out that famous nightclub, Primavera?”

It all began when your friends invited you for a night out.

“C’mon, we should let loose! Our finals just wrapped up today!”

Your friend smiled at you, pleading with her gaze.

Inside, your introverted self and your wallet were screaming, ‘nooo!’

“Sure.” You answered.

Truthfully, you only really tagged along after they promised to treat you. Who could say no to free food, especially from such an exclusive place?

Not you, definitely.

Besides, you’d never gone to a nightclub before.

The moment you set foot inside, you were overwhelmed by the dazzling neon lights and blaring loud music.

Your friends immediately stepped into the dance floor, having the time of their lives, and you followed suit. Only for a bit.

You decided you had enough of brushing and stumbling against total strangers, on top of performing a series of stiff movements that outclassed even a robot, and went to see what the bar had to offer.

...Or more like, what your part-timer, broke ass college student wallet allowed you to have.

Because it was a regular weekday, the bar wasn’t overly crowded, you sat on one of the bar stools. The nice bartender asked for your order. It wasn’t every day that you get to sit in such a fancy place, so you ordered something daring.

Before long, your colorful, alcoholic beverage made its way to you in a tall glass, with a cute tiny umbrella on the side.

As bold as you were, you were still sane, so instead of downing it in one go, you took a little sip through the straw.

It tasted sweet at first, yet left a bitter aftertaste—not that you minded.

You took more small sips, drowning out the booming music with your thoughts, which was becoming increasingly difficult with the next table hosting its own party.

Out of curiosity—and slight annoyance—you sneaked a glance, wanting to see what the fuss was about.

The next table was surrounded by a bunch of dapper men dressed in well-tailored suits. Since their attire all had something in common, you concluded that it was a uniform of some kind. They were probably employees from the same company.

Cards and chips were scattered on the table.

You could tell what they were doing at a glance.

Inwardly, you grimaced in disapproval.

Then again, you were in a nightclub. What did you expect? A group of men holding candles as they recited a prayer for a sacred mass?

Among them, two men were sitting across from each other. The moment you laid eyes on one of them—the blond guy on the right—you momentarily forgot how to breathe.

Locks of his tousled, blond hair, which flowed to his nape, shimmered under the flashing neon lights. Sometimes blue. Sometimes pink. Sometimes gold.

His purplish, cyan eyes were serene, devoid of any worries. A smile tugged at his supple lips as he casually glanced at his cards.

If not for those around him, you’d have believed that he had emerged the victor.

However, seeing how fervently those across him were booing him, and in turn, cheered for the other guy... Right, the other guy, that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

As for those on his side, at first, it may seem as if they were smiling, but it didn’t take long for you to realize that they were sneering.

It was as if they only stood there to laugh at the blond man’s cards and berate him for it.

How did you know that?

By that point, as the game between the two gentlemen grew more heated, more and more people started to gather around them, forming a crowd.

A sneak peek wouldn’t hurt.

As such, you, with your now neglected drink, scooted over to the table.

That was how some of their gleeful conversations reached your ears.

“...His luck has run out.”

“Seems like it.”

“He can only pray that Mr. Duane will show him some mercy, which I doubt will happen, since he’s been eyeing that position for a while.”

...Which wasn’t the kind of tea you’d expect from such a settlement, but okay.

‘Avgin’? Is that his name?

But why does it sound familiar...

You glanced at the other guy—the supposed ‘Mr. Duane’—right as he stood up with both hands on the table, leaning over the blond man as if looking down on him.

“—Good luck on not ending up in a ditch somewhere tomorrow! You should’ve agreed to let me take over when I was still being nice!”

His breath reeked of alcohol. Gross. Make senses, looking at all the champagne glasses strewn around his side of the table. As for his looks, it was ehh, compared to the guy who sat across from him, he was just—

“—What’s the hurry? The night has just begun.”

The instant that carefree yet melodious voice entered your ear, you forgot everything else as tension left your body. Only then did you realize that you were gripping your glass tightly.

A second later, it dawned on you how absurd it was.

What on earth were you doing?

These gentlemen were wearing custom-tailored uniforms studded with authentic jewels, sipping glass after glass of premium wine, so they probably had a high-profile job.

What they had squandered, they could easily recover tomorrow.

As for you, you only had the remaining hours of today before returning to the college grind tomorrow. It would be best for you to leave that silly little show behind.

“If you know what’s best for you, you’ll forfeit this game!”

In contrast to Mr. Duane, who was getting riled up for some reason, the blond stranger was relaxed.

“But why? Didn't you say you'd show me the ropes? Is this all you've got? Just when things were starting to get fun...”

See? Even the blond gentleman himself is unfazed. He acts like a child whose toy was taken away!

Therefore, this has to be a game.

A game with no real stake...

“—You damned Avgin! Let's see if you can still smile when I charge you with scamming the IPC and have you shot on the spot!”

You were about to turn on your heels when Mr. Duane spat out those words.

It was at that moment when you learned that 'Avgin' wasn’t just any name, but more of a derogatory slur, and that these people were chastising him for reasons beyond just being dealt a bad hand.

...Then again, rich people were just messed up like that.

It had nothing to do with you.

Those behind the blond man began to pile on him.

“Hey, if you beg, you might still be able to work for us...”

So what if losing would cost him more than just a few bucks?

“We all know it’s a harsh world for an Avgin out there. Don’t be so stubborn.”

So what if no one was really on his side?

“Your arrogance will be the end of you...”

So what if everyone was secretly hoping for his defeat all along?

Gambling’s stupid anyway!

You were getting worked up for no reason!

He was a grown man! He was perfectly capable of standing up for himself! Instead of shrugging those hurtful comments off with a smile... A smile so sad.

You tried to collect yourself. You didn’t understand where all of these emotions were coming from. Besides your own sense of self-righteousness and newfound attachment towards that dangerously handsome stranger, of course.

The situation was steadily worsening for the blond gambler, evident from the mounting pile of chips on the other guy’s side of the table.

Mr. Duane laughed out loud while his buddies snickered behind him. Those who stood behind the blond gambler were grinning. As for the blond man himself, he was staring listlessly at his cards for some reason, with an empty smile plastered across his face.

His wrist was hanging powerlessly, seemingly ready to drop what little was left of his cards and throw the game.

Did all of those offensive remarks finally get to him?

Seeing that, something inside you fell, and a bleak gasp escaped your lips.

...No way.

Only then did you realize it.

Deep down, were you hoping for him to win all along?

You clenched your fists.

As the sudden realization hit you, Mr. Duane and his cronies started pestering him again.

“There’s no harm in giving up, you know.”

“Sometimes you just have to accept defeat.”

At that moment, quietly, sincerely, you prayed in your heart—

“—SHOW THEM!! SHOW THEM WHAT YOU GOT!! DON’T LOSE!!”

Please win.

...Or at least, that was how it was supposed to be, until your mouth decided to outrun your heart.

Alcohol. It was the alcohol’s fault.

You were frozen in place, reeling from the embarrassment.

It went without saying that you successfully garnered the attention of those around you, and above all, of the pair of cyan layering on violet eyes.

They were widened in shock as the owner turned around in your direction.

It's unclear whether he caught sight of you, as by that point, you had already run away as fast as you could.

Not going back to that nightclub for a second time was pretty much a certainty by that point, and not because of financial constraints.

🂡 🂠 🂣 🂠

...Apparently, the blond gambler did win in the end.

Once again, how did you know this?

...It went without saying that you couldn’t just gallop out of a nightclub with their cocktail glass still in hand. The bartender wouldn’t let you.

Also, during your panic moment, you unlocked a certain skill and somehow managed not to spill the drink, so the glass was still half-full. You couldn’t just leave your drink unfinished. The fact that you spent a huge chunk of your salary as a part-timer to buy it wouldn’t let you.

However, just as you went right back inside, a familiar guy hurried past you.

It was none other than Mr. Duane. He was fuming as he made big strides towards the exit. Considering that he was alone, it seemed that his coworkers were left behind.

It wasn’t difficult for you to get the full story, because by the time you returned to the bar section, the blond gambler had become the talk of everyone there, if not the entire nightclub. Of course, the game was long over.

Nevertheless, the winner wasn’t quite what everyone expected.

Yes, it wasn’t Mr. Duane, but Aventurine.

Aventurine.

You let that name roll over your tongue a few times.

Still, that wasn’t the end of it.

There was a foul play.

Mr. Duane was cheating. and the game itself was rigged in his favor. The guy even paid the dealer. In short, everything was an elaborate setup to get this Aventurine guy to surrender his position.

The fact that he still loses, though...

Well, now that everything was settled, Mr. Duane did sound like the whole circus, but that wasn’t what everyone was focusing on.

Apparently, as difficult as it was to believe, the setup was just THAT elaborate and Aventurine really, really wasn’t supposed to win.

He only did because he beat the guy at his own game.

No matter how perfect the plan was, Mr. Duane himself wasn’t impervious to making mistakes.

As Mr. Duane got one step closer to victory, he became more and more cocky, which resulted in a blunder and ultimately, his downfall.

Thus, Aventurine made a name for himself.

Hearing that, the cocktail you were sipping suddenly became all the sweeter.

Best night ever.

...Although, if you had one complaint...

“Congratulations, Mr. Aventurine! We know you’d win!”

“We always believe in you, Mr. Aventurine!”

Standing just a few seats away from you was the champion himself, along with his ‘entourage.’

What a bunch of suck-ups.

Yes, said ‘entourage’ was none other than those guys who were wishing for his defeat earlier.

Now that Aventurine had secured his position, the same couldn’t be said about them. After all, they did diss him, hence the ass-kissing.

You unconsciously sipped your drink faster.

Shameless. Utterly shameless, a bunch of them.

In fact, some who were standing quite nearby were still badmouthing Aventurine, being self-conscious enough to lower their voices.

You didn’t miss them, though.

“...He’s so full of himself.” One of them said.

“Yeah, smug bastard. He makes me sick.” Another replied.

...Well, as they say, loser talk.

All’s well that ends well.

Those were your most recent recollections of that bittersweet night.

╚══════╝

🄾🄽🅆🄰🅁🄳 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ　２】

[spotsandsocks]

Seven Sentence Sunday 📚

Tagged by @rainbow-nerdss @buddierights @disasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @daffi-990 @tizniz @say-bi-for-me @rogerzsteven with wonderful snippets to check out.

I actually got some words done today so here’s some author!buck for you. The boys get vulnerable with each other over a late night phone call. More than 7 sentences cos I’m pleased I did stuff today. It’s not particularly edited so forgive any typos

Eddie stands and takes his phone with him into the bedroom so he can lie down on his bed and relax while he spends the next hour and a half talking to this remarkable man, listening to his stories and answering his questions. He has as many of those as he does facts. The guy is smart. Eddie can’t quite believe they've only met twice now and one of those was at a scene. Who is this man who's fallen into his life?

They talk and talk until his sleepiness is obvious and then Buck’s voice softens

“Hey, I should let you get some sleep.”

“Not sleepy.” Eddie manages to mumble, reluctant to end this.

There’s a deep warm chuckle in his ear, it makes his stomach flip, “yeah right, you are so falling asleep on me right now.”

He huffs his own amused noise with his eyes closed. He is tired.

“Ok maybe I am, but it’s not my fault, it’s been a long day and you’ve got a nice voice. Soothing. I like listening to you.”

“Really?”

There’s something so vulnerable wrapped around the word that it wakes him up a little. Eddie wonders who hurt Buck in the past. He suspects it starts with his parents. The need to make the other man see how special he is opens his eyes and knocks away the rest of the tiredness.

“Yeah, really. You know I’d expect a good looking successful author like you to be horribly overconfident, cocky even, but you’re not are you? Why? Why don’t you believe in yourself more?”

It’s a big question and there’s a long silence. Eddie worries he’s overstepped, they are virtual strangers after all. He expects Buck to say make a polite comment about the time and say goodnight or even just hang up. Shit. He’s not remotely tired anymore.

He doesn’t. Instead there’s a shaky inhale of breath from the other end of the phone.

“My childhood wasn’t exactly…” Eddie holds his breath.

Tagging @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @hoodie-buck @thekristen999 @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @wikiangela @thewolvesof1998 @bekkachaos @fiona-fififi @spaceprincessem @underwater-ninja-13 @stagefoureddiediaz @weewootruck @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @steadfastsaturnsrings @lover-of-mine @fortheloveofbuddie @loveyouanyway @jesuisici33 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming