#he also held up the sky people

[shuteyeshuttle]

Ok, but Luke has a grey streak too 🔱

[heathermason6060]

Rick Grimes x F!Reader x Daryl Dixon Smut: And There was only One Bed

Warnings/Mentions: Smut, unprotected sex, jealous Rick, awkward inexperienced Daryl, dry humping, spooning sex, oral, handjobs (Daryl receiving), staying quiet/fear of being caught, Daryl pretending to be asleep

Summary: Rick, Daryl, and reader get caught out on a storm and take shelter in a small cabin. They're stuck there for the night, and you'll never guess what happens next. THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED

Notes: God this is so hot I don't care that the morals are questionable!!!! I need it more than anything I've ever needed before thank you for requesting anon

Being squished between a snoring Daryl and Rick's hard-on was not how you imagined your night going when you set out that morning.

It was supposed to be a cut and dry intel run. Scope out the new group nearby, learn a few things, maybe grab some supplies on your way back, but no, it's never that easy.

First off, you couldn't find the group. Aaron claimed they were composed of maybe forty people living in the nearby school, but the place was quiet when you'd checked it out.

Then, Rick's truck broke down. Dead battery. Daryl set out looking for one with enough juice to get you home when the first signs of a storm rolled in. Angry dark clouds and cold fat raindrops.

The only place nearby in walking distance was down a long gravel road. It was the smallest, but also the cutest, cabin you'd ever laid eyes on. It only had three rooms, one bedroom with a bathroom, and a large open living area that held a tiny kitchen and a couch with a fireplace.

“Get those windows boarded up.”

Rick was quick to spew out commands after the three of you busted through the front door, all wet and shivering. The wind was so strong it slammed the door closed behind you, blowing the curtains and causing stray paper to fly off their tables.

“Can't!” Daryl shouted. He stood behind you shielding his face from the rain shooting through the broken windows.

That's how you ended up in the bedroom. You sat shivering on the foot of the bed as Rick went through the dresser, looking for clothes to replace the soaking fabric you all wore.

Daryl slid the bedroom vanity in front of the door. He even went as far as to set the armchair on top of it.

“Can we just wait it out?” Your teeth clattered together as Rick tossed you a towel from the closet. You ruffled it in your hair and watched Daryl.

He was standing in front of the only window in the room, his arms crossed and his thumbnail between his teeth.

“Yeah, should ease up soon.” Rick sat on the bed opposite from you, drying his arms and hair with his own towel.

“Naw.” Daryl muttered. He finally turned away from the window and began drying himself. “Gonna be a few hours, at least.”

You furrowed your brows, looking down in your lap. This was quite the predicament. Stuck in a bedroom with two men, one you barely knew and were pretty sure hated you.

The other… Well, you weren't sure what Rick was to you.

Daryl wasn't right, but he wasn't wrong either. The storm did continue for a few hours, but it also didn't show any signs of stopping.

You glanced down at your watch and felt your heart drop. It was seven pm, and the sun would be setting very soon. Not that you could see much outside anyways, the clouds were thick and covered a majority of the sky.

Your voice broke the long streak of silence.

“Are we gonna have to stay here tonight?”

Rick and Daryl had known the answer to that question two hours prior. Neither of them wanted to be the ones to say it, but their lack of direct answers filled you in enough. Rick looked down at his revolver and Daryl continued staring out the window.

“Fuck.” You groaned, sitting back down on the bed. “I promised Maggie we'd watch season two of True Blood tonight.”

“That dog fucker show?” Daryl muttered around his cigarette. He was leaning against the wall next to the window, legs crossed at the ankles, cleaning under his nails with the blade of his knife.

“No Daryl, there's no dog fucking.” You sighed and he just mumbled in response, not looking up from his fingers.

Rick had made himself busy trying to prepare the room for the night.

He'd found a few hurricane lanterns and set two up on the bedside tables, and began anxiously ‘cleaning’. The room only had the bed, dresser, and bedside tables, so there wasn't much he could do besides look in the same drawers over and over.

At some point he went into the small bathroom and shut the door. He stayed there for a couple minutes, doing god knows what.

There were a few clothing items left by the previous owners. Daryl and Rick got some raggedy sweatpants, shirts full of holes that were a little too small for them. You were stuck with a massive piss yellow sweater and the ugliest pair of basketball shorts.

Anything was better than your soaking rags.

The storm had eased up a bit, but that didn't do much in terms of easing your boredom. The sun had long since set, your watch read ten-thirty, and neither man was very talkative.

“I'll take first watch.” Daryl was the first to speak in a while.

“No. I'll do it.” Rick protested. He'd been cleaning his revolver for the last thirty minutes. “I can't sleep anyway.”

“Yeah, well. Neither can I.”

You'd found a box of random items under the bed and had been looking through them while they bickered. A dead Gameboy, random PlayStation controllers, a few comic books, pieces to Monopoly, and an array of broken crayons. There was a pen and a notepad though, so you started drawing a caricature of Daryl.

Angry eyebrows, a cigarette that was half his height in his frowning mouth, and a speech bubble filled with hash tags for explicatives.

“Hey.” You nudged Rick's knee with your elbow. He sat on the bed above where you were, cross-legged on the floor next to your box of bullshit.

He looked down at the paper you showed him, and for the first time that day you saw his lips twitching up into a smirk. His eyes trailed over the paper and he grabbed it from you, bringing it up closer to his face.

“Is that Daryl?” He questioned, and you nodded, a grin splitting across your face.

“That's good.” Rick nodded, shrugging his mouth. “You got a real talent. Looks just like him.”

Daryl was too bored to hide his interest, so he stood from his spot under the bedroom window and walked over to you. He grabbed the notepad from Rick, and you could see his eyes narrowing as he tried to make out your scribbles in the dim lighting.

“Yeah?” Daryl looked up when he heard the two of you stifling giggles and laughter. “Think that's funny? Gimme that.” He snatched the pen from your hands and flipped the page, sitting down on the dresser and scribbling furiously.

The pad was tossed in your lap a minute later. Your eyes widened on the drawing.

It was obviously you. You had on the same sweater, but it went down to your feet instead of your knees, and you were standing beside a cat. The only problem was, the cat was three times taller than you, and you had the ugliest expression on your face. Your mouth hung open and you were nagging the cat about scratching up the furniture. It was based on a scenario that had happened the day before, with your cat back home, Daisy, who you had caught shredding the living room couch.

“Dude, what am I? Two inches tall?” You laughed, handing the paper to Rick. He covered his mouth to hide the smile, but you saw it through his fingers and stood to give him a shove.

“Right, sorry. Drew ya too big. Hold on.” Daryl came over and drew a new stick figure of you so small that it was the size of a real ant.

“Ooookay, fuck you.”

Daryl dogged the small notepad you'd tossed at his face, and started laughing. Actually laughing. Your smile grew softer as he and Rick began to joke. It had been a while since you'd seen either of them behave in such a lighthearted manner. It made the bare bedroom seem not so cold.

Eventually the curtains were drawn and the lanterns dimmed considerably. You'd claimed the only spot on the bed that wasn't lumpy or sunken, which just so happened to be the middle.

No other reason, promise.

For the sake of his joints, Daryl had given up trying to sit on the hard floor and joined you on the bed, claiming the side closest to the window. He'd made sure to put distance between you, so much so that he was nearly hanging off the edge.

Rick had a little more resolve than the other man and stood by the window for a bit, occasionally peeking out the heavy curtains to see the same amount of darkness as before.

“Thank god you showered this morning.” Rick grunted as he sat down on your left, knocking his boots together before he brought his legs up on the bed.

“Me?” You blurted immediately, already feeling the tiniest but of anxiety, Rick never teased you like that. He saved that for the men.

He gave a toothy grin and shook his head. “No. Him.” He pointed over your body to Daryl, who was smoking his third cigarette of the night. “Carol made him take his monthly shower after he came home covered in coyote blood.”

You giggled, glancing over at Daryl.

“Yeah. Laugh it up.” Daryl took a deep drag.

You kicked off your shoes and sat upright, taking off those god awful shorts while the two men continued to playfully insult each other.

Rick caught himself going quiet when he saw you pulling the shorts down your thighs, his mouth drying at the sight. Daryl quickly shot him a look, dragging his attention away from your now bare legs and back onto him.

You didn't notice a thing, but you wished you had. Maybe you'd have started grinding against him earlier that night.

You were the first to fall asleep, to no one's surprise. There were little things that you loved more in life than sleeping.

Curled up underneath the sheets that you'd checked twenty times for bugs, sleep came quick and easy for you.

The sweater you were wearing had become incredibly uncomfortable so you swapped it for Rick's hole ridden T-shirt, leaving him shirtless. The image of his bare chest and the muscles in his back almost gave you enough adrenaline to stay up the entire night, but Daryl's soft breathing and Rick's body heat beside you tugged you unconscious.

Rick was next to give in, he'd kicked his boots off and climbed under the sheets with you, not before sliding a pillow between your bodies, more for your consideration than his modesty. He didn't give a shit, but he was worried you might.

Daryl was last, and by complete accident. He'd meant to take the first watch but the sounds of rain on the roof, gentle thunder outside, and your soft breathing beside him had him out like a light.

Two hours went by before something woke Rick up. The feeling of pressure against his crotch.

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times in a struggle to see, but the room was too dark to immediately recognize his surroundings.

Once he remembered where he was he relaxed. He closed his eyes again and almost fell back to sleep when he felt it.

A gentle nudge of something soft and plush against him, something that made him well aware of the situation in his sweatpants. He was painfully erect.

His eyes opened again, but the room was no easier to see in. He could still hear the sounds of quiet rain and wind, and the new sound of Daryl's soft snoring.

Then you whimpered.

It was quiet, barely audible, and whiny. You were squirming in your sleep, the pillow between the two of you now between your knees, separating them to prevent the annoying feeling of bone on bone.

Your ass moved back against him again. He pulled his hips back, his dick immediately complaining about the loss of contact with a slight twitch. He clenched his teeth together and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall back asleep.

Think about cold showers. You're taking a cold shower, he thought, taking deep breaths. Cold cold shower. She's in a cold shower--- raw potatoes, grub worms, rotten walker flesh, her flesh, her ass is only a few inches away, snug in those cute boyshort underwear-

Daryl let out a sudden louder snort, startling Rick out of his thoughts. His eyes snapped open, only closing once he heard the earlier gentle snores return.

Your movements stilled and he was able to sleep once again, not without an iron will mindset.

You weren't sure how long you'd been sleeping when you woke up. You checked your watch, seeing the green glowing hands pointed at the twelve and nine.

It was only twelve forty-five.

You sighed.

The room had grown colder as the night went on, cold air seeping through the thin cracks in the walls and floorboards.

As a result of said colder temperature, Daryl had moved closer to you, be that in his sleep or on purpose, you didn't know. All you knew was he was there on your right side, his bicep warm and pressed against your upper chest.

Rick had also moved closer. So close, in fact, that his hand was on your waist, resting there like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Your heart sped up when you realized this, and when he pulled you closer in his sleep you almost gasped.

He was hard.

Like, really hard.

You could feel it behind his sweatpants pressed right into your ass. His breathing was slow and deep, letting you know that he was definitely asleep, not that the knowledge did much to stop the arousal filling your chest.

You couldn't stop the whimper that sounded deep in your throat. Daryl's snoring covered it, or you thought it did. Rick stirred behind you and you heard the sound of him sniffing sleepily.

He had to be awake, you were sure of it. His breathing had become quiet, much different than the sounds of someone who was deep in sleep. He made no move to pull his hand away from your hip, confusing you even further.

Maybe he wasn't awake.

A lightbulb went off. You wiggled your hips, very slightly, only a few millimeters side to side. It was enough to gain a reaction from him, which let you know that he was definitely awake.

Rick's grip tightened on your hip.

Then he pushed into you.

There was nothing you could've done to prepare yourself for that kind of response. You sucked in a breath and felt your pussy throb. It was such a faint and quick movement, but you could vividly feel the shape of his dick pressing against your ass.

You heard movement behind you, the sound of his stubble scraping across his pillow as he moved his lips to your ear, speaking barely above a whisper.

“Stay still.”

Your eyes flicked to Daryls face.

You could barely see the outline of his head illuminated in moonlight thanks to the parting clouds. His nose pointed up at the ceiling, his lips parted as he breathed.

A wave of heat traveled through your body, starting in your chest and shooting down to your core. You felt that flipping sensation in your lower stomach and you whimpered again, rubbing your thighs together.

Rick inhaled deeply through his nose at the action. His hand shifted upwards, moving over your hip and splaying over the curve of your waist. He could feel you pressed against him, even if you weren't moving, and it made him groan faintly.

The sound of him groaning sent another spark through your core. You couldn't help it, you arched your back just enough to feel friction. You were too weak willed.

“Sweetheart.” He breathed, his forehead resting against the back of your hair to try and steady himself. “You gotta stop, please.”

He hated how desperate and wrecked the whispered words came from his lips. Hated how his dick was aching in his boxer briefs.

Hated how he was just as weak willed as you, his hips moving forward in a way that betrayed his words and stomped them in the mud.

You couldn't understand why you were so unbearably aroused. You weren't a teenager going through puberty. You've had partners.

Sure, you had a little admiration-fueled crush on the two men, but the way your body was behaving was animalistic. Your heart felt like it was going to burst through your chest and your pussy was soaked.

If only you had your vibrator that was back in Alexandria, you'd orgasm in five seconds, you knew that for a fucking fact.

Daryl muttered a nonsensical sentence in his sleep, his head lolling over in the direction of the window. His right arm rose to lay over his chest, and his left leg spread out in your direction.

His knee bumped against the top of your thighs, almost slipping between them.

You could've screamed.

You tried to stay still, really, you did. But the feeling of Rick pushing against you again, Daryl's knee nudging between your thighs, it was impossible. You moved your hips, intending on just pushing back against Rick but your action also succeeded in grinding down right on Daryl's knee.

Rick could feel resistance in your movement but his mind couldn't focus on anything but the feel of your plush ass pressing against his dick.

His blood ran cold at the sound of Daryl mumbling in his sleep again. He held his breath, waiting with baited breath to see if he'd stir awake.

Relief flooded his body after a moment of silence, and he pressed his face back into your hair. There was still a faint smell of shampoo or conditioner despite the earlier rain. The feminine smell made his dick twitch and he flexed his jaw.

You were caught between excitement and horror. Daryl's knee was wedged right between your thighs, and occasionally it would jerk up against you. Each time it would make you fight away a gasp, and make your clit throb.

Daryl was definitely asleep, right? If he woke up he'd roll over on his side, right? There was no way he was awake, pushing his knee right up against your pussy, right?

You reached down to grab Rick's hand, which was still resting against your waist, gripping onto his fingers for support. His fingers curled around your own and sent butterflies in your stomach at the feeling of comfort.

He hated himself for all of it, but in the moment, he felt like he didn't care. His hips rocked against yours, once, twice, the need to get relief clouding all judgment he was capable of having.

You couldn't help yourself either. Your eyes fluttered shut and you rolled your hips, soft and slow, against Rick's bulge and Daryl's knee. You'd tried several times to push it away, wiggle back further into Rick, but it was like there was a goddamn super magnet attached to your clit and his knee cap.

You bit down hard against your lip, trying to keep your voice from escaping. Everything felt so good, Rick dry humping his heart out, your clit buzzing, it all felt so overwhelmingly amazing that you hadn't even noticed Daryl's snoring was no longer present.

In the end, it wasn't enough, Rick was being too cautious. You needed more, just a little bit. You pushed back hard against him and heard his breath hitch in his throat. His hand gripped yours so tight it almost hurt, and he leaned into your ear.

“Movin’ too much. Stop.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. You shook your head, your lip trembling between your teeth.

“Can't.” You breathed. You physically couldn't stop, you knew that and Rick knew that. You were both so close to relief, you'd already gotten this far, there was no point in stopping now. No going back.

Rick swallowed hard as he felt his resolve break at the way you and your body pleaded. It was all he needed. His hips moved a bit faster, a bit rougher. His hand left yours and grabbed the string of his sweatpants, fingertips pinching the ends, hesitating only for a second before he pulled.

Time seemed to literally freeze when you felt him digging his cock out behind you. Your heart stopped, your breathing stopped, and so did the grinding of your pelvis. You couldn't think. It was suddenly all too very real.

You didn't expect Rick to do something like this. The dry humping, sure. He was horny and it wasn't really that big of a deal. But this? Tugging down your underwear? Spitting on his hand and stroking his dick to get it wet for you? It felt like a dream and way too terrifying at the same time.

“Sweetheart…” His hot breath against your ear snapped you back to reality. “You… you gotta be quiet, okay? Promise?”

You'd never nodded so quickly and eagerly in your life. Your heart felt like it was literally up in your throat. The tight knot in your core became more and more taut, and it trembled when you felt the hot tip of his wet dick bump between your folds.

Rick nearly came when he felt how wet you were. It was mind blowing, you were fucking soaked. The hot lube was covering your pussy and trailing down the side of your ass, reaching his hip bone.

You inhaled deeply when you felt him start to push in. You'd think with how wet you were it would be easy, but your muscles were wound tight due to the nearly paralyzing fear of possibly waking Daryl.

There was a bit of self disgust when you felt the weight of reality sinking in. The absolute pathetic degeneracy of what you were doing with Daryl right next to you.

That self disgust faded when Rick pushed into you.

Rick swallowed a groan as his cock dug up into you, your walls hot and soft and squeezing the life out of him. He could feel how nervous you were so he slipped an arm over your side, his hand reaching for your own again.

You moaned.

His hand broke from your grip and clamped over your mouth. Neither of you moved for a solid minute.

It was the longest minute in history. You could feel his dick twitching inside of you, your clit throbbing so hard you thought it was going to have its own little heart attack.

Your thighs absentmindedly squeezed against Daryl's knee, and you were sure you'd start crying.

Finally, Rick began moving. His breathing was growing heavy behind your head, his face burying back into the mess of hair in front of him.

His movements were slow at first. Tantalizingly slow. He waited until he was sure you could stay quiet before picking up the pace.

Your eyes had adjusted a fair amount in the darkness. You looked up to Daryl, finding comfort when you saw his eyes were still closed, but he'd stopped snoring long ago.

You dismissed it and grabbed onto the wrist of the hand covering your mouth, gripping tight for support.

Your right hand slipped under the sheets to rest on your thigh, but instead landed on Daryl's lower thigh. He must've been a very heavy sleeper, because he didn't react to it beyond the muscles tensing under your palm.

The sound that escaped Rick's lips had your eyes rolling back into your head. A trembling whimper. His movements grew quicker and deeper, his dick dragging your walls against him, pulling out every drop of arousal he could and thrusting it back in.

Your mind spun as all thoughts left your brain. There was nothing going on up there anymore, just dark blackness, the feeling of Rick fucking you taking over your conscious body.

His hand grabbed yours, the one on Daryl's knee, and pulled it away from you, to the right.

When your fingers brushed up against something warm and soft, you didn't question it. You didn't even question his fingers moving yours to wrap around his dick.

Your eyes shot open.

Rick's dick was still inside you. His right hand was still on your mouth, his left on the small of your back.

Daryl's eyes were open, and looking right into yours.

You went to jerk your hand away out of reflex, but his grip was tight, forcing your fingers to stay wrapped around his thick cock. Your eyes flew over him, fighting to understand what was happening, when had he woken up? Just then? Or was he awake when he pushed his knee between your thighs?

The orgasm that came out of nowhere pushed all those questions aside.

You moaned against Rick's hand as you came, no longer trying to be quiet, no longer trying to keep your hips still. Your thighs clamped down on Daryl's knee, grinding rough and quick.

Much to Rick's absolute heart-stopping horror.

He tried to muffle your moans, forcing his hand down painfully hard on your mouth, but it did little. He bared his teeth near your ear and hissed for you to stop, the sound sharp and jarring as it came through his clenched teeth, but then his eyes landed on the scene over your body.

Daryl using your hand to stroke his dick. Daryl with his other arm bent behind his head, his face tilted to the side to watch your expressions with parted lips.

It took Rick a few seconds to recover from the near heart attack. He almost lost his boner from the heart dropping adrenaline, but your wet walls spasming around him coaxed his hips forward.

Now that you didn't need to be quiet you pulled Rick's hand off your mouth and gasped down a lungful of air. Your mouth was hot and dry, and it was hard to swallow.

You couldn't take your eyes off Daryl, his eyes, the eyes that hadn't left your face since he woke up.

God, he was unbelievably sexy. The way he was so responsive to your touch led you to believe your hand might possibly be the first hand to touch his dick other than his own.

He grunted softly, his eyes finally falling shut after you gently squeezed the base of his dick. You'd be content to get him off with one hand like you had been for the past few minutes, but you couldn't resist the urge to give him his first hand job and blowjob.

“Up.” You panted. You curled your finger at Daryl, pointing up. He happily obliged and sat upright, scooting up towards the headboard until his lap was right in front of your face.

He seemed absolutely thrilled, ecstatic even. His once heavy eyes were now wide open, watching every move you made as you shifted your upper half so your mouth could reach his dick.

Rick was still thrusting with hesitation when you moved. He watched you lick broad stripes on the underside of Daryl's dick, and he couldn't help but glance at his face to see his reaction.

Mouth hanging open, eyes clenched tightly shut, his expression almost looked pained. His hands had found their way to your hair, gripping two handfuls as he began trying to move your head for you.

You slapped his hands away and grabbed his wrists, an action that had his eyes opening and looking down at you.

“Don't.” Your hot breath tickled the sensitive skin of his tip. He pinched both his lips shut between his teeth, nodding quickly, a shaky closed-lip moan rattling in his throat.

Rick finally got ahold of himself and grabbed your hips to turn your lower half on your stomach. He kept his dick inside you as he slid on top of you, his knees spreading to rest on either side of your thighs.

You were taking Daryl's head past your lips when Rick suddenly fucked you like he'd been wanting to the entire time. Both his hands rested on the small of your back, pushing your hips down into the mattress with all his weight to keep them firmly in place.

You gasped around Daryl at the feeling of Rick pounding into you from above. It was a comically drastic change from only five minutes before when he thought Daryl was asleep.

Daryl's wrists flexed in your hands where you had them pressed against his lower stomach. You knew he was only keeping them there in your grasp because he allowed it, and not because you were somehow strong enough to keep even a single wrist of his in your fist, let alone two.

It took a lot of effort on Rick's part to actually finish. Having Daryl in the room when you fucked was one thing, but having him making all that noise just from your mouth was another.

He was honestly more surprised that Daryl actually enjoyed sex acts than the fact he was engaging in them with him in the room. With no one other than you, a girl he almost never saw him interact with.

Rick had assumed Daryl simply wasn't interested. Incorrectly assumed.

Either way, having Daryl only a few feet away from him while he had his dick inside you was something he wasn't sure he enjoyed. But the way you clenched around him every time he pulled back was enough to make him forget about it.

Daryl was struggling to keep himself together. He had no point of reference, but he thought you were incredibly talented at giving head. You were giving it your all, sucking and licking like your life depended on it. It was impressive how well you were managing to concentrate on blowing him with Rick making such a mess of your pussy.

You couldn't be happier. You knew there were so many women back in Alexandria that would kill to be in your position, lying in front of the Daryl Dixon, lying under the Rick Grimes, both of their dicks inside you.

“Wa-wait.” Daryl suddenly sputtered and ripped his wrists from your hands to cup the sides of your face, giving a few gentle slaps with the tips of his fingers.

You looked up, not taking your mouth off of him. His expression made your pussy clench around Rick and he groaned behind you, the sound raw and deep. He shifted his hips and ground down against you, quick and rough, his tip jabbing deep inside you.

The ragged moan you let out reverberated through Daryl, and the hand you had around his base gave a trembling squeeze.

“M’boutta, Jesus! Hey, oh, godfuckindamnit-” Daryl's jaw dropped and his eyes rolled back, his head tipping backwards as he made that same pained expression and came down your throat.

Your hips were roughly jerked up from the bed, shoving you back on Rick's dick, and then his hands slipped under your armpits to pull up your top half.

It was hard to stay upright, but thankfully Rick was generous enough to provide you the luxury of his hands tight against your tits, keeping your back flush against his chest.

Oh, it was a goddamn shame Daryl had just come. The sight in front of him was something he knew millions would pay- no, kill- to see. You looked breathtaking. Rick had taken your shirt off some time ago, leaving you completely bare as you kneeled in front of Daryl.

He forgot to breathe as he watched your face, slack in pleasure. You were struggling to keep your eyes open and on him, something that made his softening cock twitch. All that struggling just to look at someone like him? The hell did he deserve to have someone like you looking at him like that?

Rick deserved praise for the way he supported your weight with just his hands, keeping your entire upper half pressed against his chest while he fucked you in desperate effort to finally get off. His dick felt raw from how long he'd been at it, his balls throbbing from the delayed orgasm, it was a wonder he was able to keep himself upright, let alone you.

“Daryl.” The way you whimpered his name made his cock jump back to life, and he pushed himself up on his elbows to look up at you, eager to obey whatever it was you were about to ask.

“Yeah?” He rasped as he stared up at you.

You'd placed your hands over Rick's and moved his fingers over your nipples, which he was pinching and rolling, something he understood without you even needing to ask.

“Touch me, please.”

You didn't need to ask twice. Daryl inched down the bed and kept himself propped up on one elbow, his other arm sliding over his chest to reach your clit.

Rick decided at that moment he definitely didn't like threesomes. Feeling you twist and hearing you moan due to Daryl's thumb rubbing against you made his chest and face hot, a childish reaction considering you and Rick were not a thing, and certainly not an exclusive thing.

He just wasn't good at sharing.

The silly jealousy led to him putting his all into pleasing you. His thrusts became slower but deeper, more forceful, knocking out a gravely groan from your throat with each one. His hands left your breasts to tangle in your hair, pulling it up into a makeshift ponytail with his fist being the hair tie.

Your skin buzzed when he pressed his face into your neck to plant sloppy kisses. He bit down and you whined, arching your back against him and tilting your head to the side to provide him better access.

Unlike Rick, Daryl didn't have a care in the world. His mind was completely blank as he stared up at you above him, oblivious to the way his thumb cramped from the constant circles he rubbed into you.

“C'mere.” You breathed, wrapping your fingers in Daryl's hair to urge him up and guide his mouth to your nipples.

Daryl's eagerness to please was one of the hottest things you'd ever witnessed. He took your right nipple in his mouth and went to town like his life depended on it.

He flexed his tongue, digging the firm and wet muscle around your bud, circling it the same way his thumb now circled your clit.

Your orgasm came screeching out of nowhere.

You cried out and gripped Daryl's head tighter, pulling his mouth firm against your breast as you came.

The feeling of your walls squeezing the life out of his cock finally brought about Rick's own climax.

He wrapped his fist around the hair bundled in his grasp and tugged your head to the side, baring your neck to his itching teeth, and clamped down as he gave a rough thrust.

You'd failed to notice that at some point Daryl had grown hard again, only noticing when he let out a ragged moan into your wet chest.

Your bleary eyes found him and caught sight of his hand quickly jerking himself. There was the flash of thick cum spurting out, long ropes coating the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck.” You slurred. Now that was the new hottest thing you'd ever seen.

Rick's teeth released their grip on your neck. He pulled back and let his head droop back as he caught his breath, his shoulders heaving with deep and ragged pants. He became aware of how uncomfortably sweaty he was. His chest and back felt soaked, and he dropped your hair to pull away from you.

You heard Rick plop down on the bed behind you, the springs creaking from his sudden weight dropping on it all at once. You were too busy admiring Daryl to pay attention to it.

There was a lazy smile on your face, your eyes half lidded and glued to his face. Even though the room was dark you were sure you could see how red his cheeks were. His lips were glossy and parted as he took in deep breaths, still wet from drooling all over your tits.

He could barely keep his eyes open, and with the way you had one hand cupping his face, the other brushing back his sweaty hair, he wasn't sure he wanted to. The sweet way you were looking down at him was just too hard to look away from.

The next morning wasn't as awkward as one would think, even though it was obvious Rick was having some internal battle on the ethics of what he'd done the night before. He'd never been in a situation where he knew he really shouldn't be doing something like that, so his lack of restraint was new knowledge he'd have to ponder over.

Daryl couldn't give any less of a fuck, that morning he gave you the whole princess treatment. Grabbing your now dry clothes, your bag, your shoes, and bringing them to you. Offered you the last of his water and opened every door you came across for you. He didn't say much at all, much like Rick, but his mood was clearly the exact opposite.

It was so sweet it made your heart ache.

“Hey.” Rick pulled you aside after you finally got back home, shooting Daryl a look to give the two of you privacy.

“Hi.” You smiled. The stern look on his face was cute.

“What we did-”

“Don't.” You stopped him, giving the man a tired smile. “It was the sexiest thing I've ever done and I'm fine with it being a one time thing, but don't ruin it and tell me it was wrong.”

“I wasn't going to say that.” His gaze had softened, but he still looked down at you with his hands on his hips like a disappointed authority figure. “I just don't want you to think it's okay to bring up if we're all alone again.”

“I'm not stupid.” You snorted, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “Won't bring it up again.”

He sighed in frustration, trying not to roll his eyes but failing. “No, it ain't that either. Let's just- next time,” your eyes widened, “not be as spontaneous.”

You grinned. “Alright. You got it.”

Daryl was nowhere near as reserved about the experience. You could understand Rick's point of view, conservative family man, that was probably the most extreme thing he'd ever done in bed. But Daryl, oh, you'd just changed his fucking world.

“Pst.”

You stopped in front of the bathroom to see Daryl nodding you over, lighting a cigarette as he stood near the door to his room.

“Hi.” You smiled after approaching him.

“You okay?”

You beamed at the question, shifting your pile of clothes in your arms. “Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?”

He nodded as he took the first pull, turning his head to blow the smoke away from your face. “Is, uh…” He nodded his head to the front door, where Rick still stood on the porch talking to a few people. “He alright?”

“He's fine.”

“Alright. Good.” He shifted awkwardly. He cleared his throat, looking down at the cherry on his cigarette before bringing it back up to his lips. “That somethin' you wanna do again?”

You pursed your lips in an attempt to hide the ecstatic smile that threatened to embarrass you, and nodded.

He let out a breath that sounded like a laugh of relief and disbelief. There were a few seconds of silence, his eyes darting between his cigarette and your face. “With me?”

“Of course. Maybe next time just you.” You turned to head back to the bathroom but quickly turned on your heel and walked back to him. “Daryl? When did you,” you struggled to get the words out, ironic considering how bold youd been the night before, “you know, wake up?”

“Oh.” He grunted, his ears burning. “Dunno. While before.”

You felt a mix of embarrassment and relief. So he had pushed his knee between your legs on purpose. The thought had your stomach flipping and your face getting warm, so you gave a quick and polite smile before running off to the bathroom.

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @jinx-nanami

[navybrat817]

Where Worlds Collide - Intro

Pairing: Silver Fox!Sugar Daddy!Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Female Reader

Summary: Your boss forces you to be eye candy for an alpha at a gala, but things take a turn for the better when you meet another alpha. Does it matter that you don't belong in his world?

Word Count: Over 9.2k

Warnings: Smut, v. fingering, possessive behavior, dirty talk, instant connection, A/B/O dynamics, talk of bonding, misogyny, unspecified age gap, insecurities, world building, choking (not our reader… yet), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: I'm pretty proud of the intro to this world, lovelies! @whisperlullaby, @targaryenvampireslayer, @tavners, here it is! Ant thanks to @queenoftheworldisdead as well. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Soft music drifted from the ballroom as you stepped into the lavish venue. You’d never been to a gala before. Your family wasn’t wealthy enough to receive an invitation, nor did your last name carry any influence. The only reason you were there tonight was because of the alpha on your arm, all thanks to your boss’s insistence that you accompany him.

It was an evening of style, grace, and luxury, and you didn’t belong.

You held your breath as you walked deeper into the ballroom, the glittering chandeliers casting a refined glow over everything. A mix of alphas, betas, and omegas socialized and gossiped, their glamorous evening wear glittering under the lights. You had designed a few of the dresses and suits, but none of the people wearing them would recognize you. The alpha you worked for always took the credit. Complaining about it wouldn’t help. After all, you’d only sound like an ungrateful omega and hundreds of other omegas would beg to take your place.

You couldn’t wait for the day you quit.

Chet’s grip on your arm brought you back to the present. “Keep quiet and smile,” he ordered, a haughty expression on his face as he led you through the place. You didn't want to judge all men named Chet, but you had pegged him as a douchebag the second he went in for his fitting and he was proving you right. You couldn't even enjoy that he was objectively handsome since his personality made him less attractive.

“I am smiling,” you said. Wrinkling your nose at the overwhelming mix of scents and expensive colognes and perfumes, you did your best to make your smile look natural. The servers looked like they were doing the same as they served everyone. It was strange how a room so enormous could make someone feel so small.

“Then keep smiling,” Chet ordered through his grin. “What you do or don’t do is a reflection of me.”

“I know,” you muttered. Because it was all about him and you were just his omega arm candy. You really should’ve demanded overtime pay from your boss, but that conversation wouldn’t have ended well.

“As it stands, perhaps I made the right choice by bringing you,” he said, nodding to a few older gentlemen. “I can smell their envy.”

You did notice a few more men looking your way. A few women as well, not hiding that they were whispering about you. Trying to hide your vulnerability, you held yourself the way you thought a goddess would. You also held yourself with pride since the dress you wore was your own design. A sleeveless black dress with a middle slit, it was bold and alluring. The glitter throughout the fabric made you shine like stars in the night sky. The finishing touch was the matching collar, a tasteful way to protect you from any alpha who even thought about marking you.

Reaching up instinctively to run a hand over your collar, you felt your heart ache. Your inner omega wanted a mark, but the thought of being tied to someone was somewhat terrifying. You respected omegas who wanted to go the traditional route by staying home and being submissive, but you didn’t want to be submissive outside of the bedroom. You wanted a partner who would view you as an equal.

Your false confidence didn’t last long when Chet’s grip on you tightened, your body immediately going stiff. You’d have to take a long shower and dry clean your dress just to get rid of his scent. “Loosen up,” he ordered.

“Maybe I’d loosen up if you weren’t digging your fingers in,” you whispered.

“You’re my date. It’s my right to touch you,” he sneered. He had no right. It didn't matter if he was an alpha and he was rich. The urge to slap him across his face was so strong your palm itched. “So, get the stick out of your ass.”

A shiver rolled down your spine when you heard a low growl come from another alpha. Glancing around, you didn’t see anyone looking directly at you. It probably had nothing to do with you because why would anyone care if an alpha was bossing you around?

Chet’s hold on you loosened nonetheless. “And just so we’re clear, you have no intention of sleeping with me?” he asked as an omega in a revealing dress sauntered by. Your date didn’t bother to hide how he was undressing her with his eyes.

“That’s right,” you said. You made it clear to your boss that sex wasn’t an option, and he was oddly on your side. Maybe he thought Chet could sway you if he tried hard enough. If he even thought of using some sort of alpha command on you, nothing would stop you from lashing out and making him sorry.

“Then you’ll have no problem finding your own ride home should I choose to leave with someone else,” he said.

“So, I can’t make you look bad, but you can leave with another omega?” you asked.

“You got it. You’re smarter than you look.” He tapped your nose with a condescending grin. “And here I thought you were just a pretty face.”

The prick was pushing his luck. “Listen you-”

“Chet, my boy! Good to see you!” A man interrupted, uncaring that you were speaking.

“Shane,” Chet smiled. “Always a pleasure.”

The bulky alpha shamelessly looked you over, his scent almost making you choke on your next breath. “And who might this be?”

“Pretty, isn't she?” Chet cut in before you could answer, puffing his chest out. “Doesn't say much, but I’m not exactly interested in her conversational skills, am I?”

You bit your tongue when they chuckled. Be seen and not heard. It was insulting.

“Come join me, but leave the omega,” Shane said unapologetically, taking another look at your chest. What would happen if you threw a drink in his face? “As entertaining as she would be, we have business to discuss, and we don’t need the distraction.”

“Of course,” Chet smiled, turning you toward the bar as Shane walked away. “Since he doesn't want you around, why don't you take advantage of the free drinks until I get back?”

“I’m not-”

“And not that you’d have any extra cash to tip, but it’s taken care of,” he continues, your face hot at the assumption that you couldn't afford to tip the staff. “Just behave and try not to make a fool out of either of us, you got it? Wouldn’t want your boss to hear about it if you do.”

Biting back a retort, you freed yourself from his grip. There wasn’t enough liquor at this party to get you through the rest of this evening. “Don’t worry about me, alpha. Go have fun,” you said, your eyes burning as he walked away. A few heads turned your way when your scent soured. It wasn’t enough that you had to attend an event where you didn’t belong, but your date just had to rub salt in the open wound by reminding you of such. “Fucking asshole,” you muttered, making your way over to the bar to order a drink.

Plastering a smile back on your face when you got the bartender’s attention, you ordered a whiskey on the rocks. You wanted something that would go down smooth but leave a little burn. You also preferred opting to watch the bartender make a drink in front of you instead of grabbing a glass of already poured champagne. The drinks were likely fine, but better safe than sorry. And like hell would you accept a drink from your sorry excuse for a “date” if he offered you one. He was lucky you-

An intoxicating scent hit you out of nowhere, making you grip the bar as you inhaled. Plums, whiskey, sandalwood. The blended aromas had your mouth watering, and a whimper threatened to slip out. Your heart pounded against your ribs. Desire burned in your stomach. As quickly as the scent excited you, it seemed to wrap itself around you in a soothing embrace. How could a smell leave you hot and bothered and also feel like a hug?

No… It couldn’t be your mate.

You caught a small movement out of the corner of your eye, and you stopped breathing when you found a pair of blue eyes fixed on you that belonged to a devilishly handsome man. He leaned against the wall, his wool-blend black suit fitting his thick body like second skin. Streaks of gray lined his luscious brown hair and peppered his beard, too. He looked like the kind of alpha who would have omegas kneeling at his feet, and it frightened you how badly you wanted to get on your hands and knees and crawl toward him.

His. Mine.

Lifting his tumbler to his lips, he kept his eyes on you as he sipped the expensive liquor. You wanted to look away but couldn't as the air crackled between you. He had you under some sort of trance you couldn't snap yourself out of. As frightening as it was to have a scent hit you so strongly, a feeling like this hit you square in the chest, the thought of him staring at another omega that way nearly made you hiss because you didn't want anyone else on the receiving end of those blue eyes.

He smirked like he read your mind and pushed himself off the wall. You did whimper out loud when you realized just how large he was. Dominant, assertive, yet there was something almost playful in his smirk when he finally broke his gaze. You greedily inhaled with the hope of catching more of his scent when he strode toward the nearby balcony, smooth and fluid as a server quickly took the empty tumbler from his hand. The men at the gala were all posturing, but no one could match the confidence of that alpha.

So how were people not surrounding him, begging for a scrap of attention? Was he untouchable among those who deemed themselves untouchable? He certainly didn’t look like the kind of man who chased after anyone. No, people went to him.

He wanted you to follow him, right?

Downing your drink in one gulp, your feet moved before you could stop yourself. “I don’t need this alpha,” you whispered, the words bitter in your mouth as you followed his path. If you were smart, you’d walk the other way and not look back. Yet the thought of never seeing him again made your heart ache in a way you didn’t want to examine.

Does he know?

Studies over the years showed that not every bound pair was the same. Some couples felt the bond instantaneously like a firework exploding. Others felt it like a small burn that slowly consumed them over time. For a few, the spark took a long time to ignite. You couldn't ignore this burn if you tried.

You welcomed the slight chill in the air as you stepped onto the large balcony. It was lit up with sparkling lights, yet it didn’t take away from the stars that shone in the sky above. The alpha who caught your eye stood by the railing, alone, like he was looking over a kingdom. You felt foolish for going out there to bother him.

Steeling yourself with false confidence again, you walked over to stand beside him. You weren’t close enough to touch him, wanting to leave him a respectable amount of space. You could always use the excuse that you just needed some fresh air if he asked what you were doing.

Stealing a glance at him, you didn’t want to believe that you had a true connection with this man, that he could be your mate. No way would an omega like you be his match. Would he even want an omega like you? One with dreams to do more, be more?

“Beautiful,” he said, his voice thick like honey and the whiskey you drank. Of course, his voice would be a powerful weapon. But he wasn’t scenting you, or trying to tear your collar off, or doing anything to indicate that he felt the sort of spark you had. Maybe that was for the best.

“It is,” you sighed, looking out at the view. You couldn’t deny the beauty and how much easier it was to breathe since you weren’t surrounded by the suffocating bodies and scents. “It really is something.”

“I was talking about you.”

You whipped your head toward him so quickly you nearly hurt your neck. The flare of heat in his eyes hypnotized you again, but this time you didn’t want him to draw you in. A man of his stature, his power, he could chew you up, spit you out, and leave you a shell of yourself. But seeing him up close, his laugh lines, and the touch of softness in his gaze, you wanted to know all about him and the life he lived.

You were in so much trouble.

“Thank you,” you breathed.

“I don't think I’ve seen you at a gala before. I would've remembered you,” he stated. You weren't sure what to say to that. “I’m James, but you can call me Bucky if you’d like.”

You blinked a few times. “You’re James Barnes,” you whispered, not having to belong in the inner circle to know who he was.

James Buchanan Barnes. One of the wealthiest alphas in the city, his family came from money and it was no secret that Bucky, as he liked to go by, wasn’t bound to anyone. People assumed that he didn't want to share his wealth with anyone beyond his charitable donations, or that he was either extremely picky in choosing a mate. And here he was talking to you. This was the man you thought could be your mate.

You were in way over your head.

“I am,” he said, looking at you expectantly.

It took a moment, but your name tumbled from your lips as you shifted toward him. He inhaled when a breeze rolled in and you hoped your scent got to him the way his scent got to you. The way his eyes darkened, it had. Your inner omega wanted to purr with delight.

Time stood still when he took your hand and brought it to his lips. “It’s a pleasure,” he whispered, his lips brushing your knuckles. “I hope you don’t mind me being forward, but…”

“But what?”

You held your breath when he turned your hand and ran his nose along your wrist with a small growl. It was bold, intimate, possessive, and you got impossibly wet from the action. Had Chet or another alpha done that, it would've been a different story. “You smell divine,” he whispered against your skin.

You whined before your inner hackles went up, making him pull his mouth away immediately. He at least had some level of respect and sensed the shift in your stance. “How many omegas have you said that and done that to?” you asked when you had no right to feel jealous.

He didn’t look put off by your question, and he didn’t let go of your hand either. “I’ve come across a few delectable scents before, but I don’t think I’ve ever described anyone as divine,” he answered, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. An intense longing behind his eyes had your knees weak. “I haven’t smelled anyone like you.”

This alpha was telling the truth, but he wasn't a boy scout either. He knew how to fuck, you could tell, and he likely broke hearts without intending to. You didn’t want to be the next victim if a quick fuck was all he was looking for.

“I haven’t smelled anyone like you either,” you admitted, grudgingly pulling away. His heady scent made it hard to concentrate. And standing close to a man who wore a suit that cost more than half a year’s rent was another reminder that you were a girl playing dress up, nothing more. “I should go. I shouldn’t be here.”

Bucky stopped you from turning away, his grip on your arms tender so you wouldn’t feel threatened. “And why is that?”

“Because I don’t belong here, and I don’t expect you to understand that,” you replied.

It was bad enough to let your guard down by following him out there, and you couldn’t let him seduce you more than he already had. You were lucky the very presence of him didn't trigger your heat. And how would your story end? He was a rich alpha, and you were a struggling omega. Was happiness really in the cards?

Your eyes widened when you heard the rumble in his chest, his scent producing a soothing aura that wrapped around you. Your lip trembled slightly as the rumble faded. Bucky could’ve let you walk away, yet he was comforting you. It made you want to cry.

“I may understand better than you think,” he whispered. Did he? Did he feel alone in that crowd of people there? “But help me understand why you feel that way.”

You rapidly blinked to keep the tears at bay. What was there for him to understand? “Okay,” you whispered back. The fact that he wanted you to talk to him meant something. “For starters, that crowd is kind of… well, awful from the short time I observed and interacted with them. They think they’re better than everyone else because they have so much, but they have no right to look down on others.”

The people in the gala simply flaunted what they had without a second thought. Being there made you appreciate your friends and their genuine interactions more. They worked hard for everything they had. They wouldn’t have anything against people born with a silver spoon in their mouths if they showed a little humility.

Bucky's chuckle surprised you. “Money doesn’t equal class, and believe me when I say they aren’t worth taking up any space in your beautiful mind,” he said, giving you a small smile. “To be honest, I came out here to get away from them because, save a select few, they're fucking assholes.”

You found yourself smiling, too. No wonder he has been standing by himself. “Is that the only reason?” you asked curiously, reaching up to touch his perfect hair simply because you could.

He looked at you, a mixture of lust and something soft. Standing like this you felt like a couple. “I may have wanted you to follow me, and I’m glad you did,” he said, his tone calm and casual as butterflies filled your stomach. “You’re the first person I’ve considered approaching in a long time, but you looked a bit upset when you went to the bar. I didn’t think bothering you would win me any favors.”

You exhaled. Was he the alpha who growled when Chet gripped you too tightly? “I…” you shivered when another breeze rolled in.

He shrugged his jacket the moment he spotted you shivered. “May I?” he offered.

You hesitated. Bucky had a powerful scent, and how would it look to Chet if you wore another alpha’s jacket? Chet wasn’t your alpha, but he could run his mouth and get you in trouble with your boss. It didn’t matter that you wanted to quit one day. Today wasn’t that day because you financially weren’t ready. That was the excuse you made up in your head.

But your inner omega wanted Bucky’s scent to surround you and you replied in a small voice, “Yes, please.”

Bucky carefully placed the warm jacket around your shoulders. “I know the crowd bothered you for good reason, but who specifically upset you and how can I fix it?”

“My date,” you answered. You didn't have it in you to lie to him. It also wasn't up to him to fix it.

Bucky hummed, running his hands up and down your arms. It helped warm and relax you. “What’s his name?” he asked, his eyes landing on the collar around your neck. You wondered what he would do if your mating gland was exposed, and you had to push that thought away.

“His name is Chet and he’s discussing business with some alpha.” The change in his scent was subtle. He seemed too confident to be jealous, but he didn’t seem pleased either at the thought of you being with someone else. “They were extremely condescending, and I couldn’t exactly throw a drink in their faces or put them in their place since I’m just an omega.”

Bucky snarled quietly, his eyes blazing. “You’re not just an omega,” he said. He was upset on your behalf. Was he not like other older alphas who wanted omegas to be subservient? “Maybe I should have a chat with them.”

You purred before you could stop yourself. Bucky offering to stand up for you felt better than you wanted to admit. “You don't have to do that,” you said, running your fingers through his hair again. You wanted to soothe him the way he soothed you. “Besides, I’m not really on a date with Chet. He just wanted me to be eye candy for the night.”

Bucky almost snarled again, but raised an eyebrow instead. “And you agreed to that? I have the feeling you aren’t the arm candy type.”

You giggled. He was right about that. “Didn’t really have a choice thanks to my boss,” you told him.

“Your boss? What exactly do you do for work?” he asked carefully.

He asked a lot of questions, but you didn't mind since he seemed genuinely interested. Maybe he assumed you were an escort. “I'm a designer,” you answered, smiling to yourself. “At least, I want to be. I’m just an assistant at the moment.”

“Let me guess. Your boss is an alpha, makes you do the grunt work, and takes the credit?” he mused, humming when you solemnly nodded. “And he convinced you to come here tonight because Chet is a client?”

“Something like that. It was either that or I get fired,” you laughed bitterly. “And if he fired me I’d get blacklisted, then I’d have no job, no money at all, and I’d lose my tiny apartment and…”

His nose wrinkled when you trailed off. You were so embarrassed, and you couldn’t stop your scent from souring. Talking to one of the richest alphas ever about your problems wasn’t something you thought you’d experience tonight, but that soothing rumble and smell came out again to help you breathe easier.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” he said with a touch of firmness so you knew he didn’t pity you. You could take a lot of things, but not pity.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you said, smoothing out some of the fabric on your dress and not wanting to dwell on the topic. “I actually made this,” you told him. It was silly, but you specifically wanted to hear something nice from Bucky to make you feel better, which was bad. You shouldn’t want compliments from him or want him period.

He parted his jacket so he could look you over. Unlike Shane leering at you earlier, Bucky seemed to take in the details of your design with a careful eye. “You made this? It’s stunning,” he said with pride that rivaled yours. You lost your breath when he ran the back of his finger along your torso, heat spreading through your body like a wildfire. “Like you.”

Your mind raced, the heavy weight of his gaze pinning you in place. The longer you stood there, the more you wanted him. You had to snap out of it. “You’re dangerous,” you whispered, shaking your head as his hand fell away. “I should go inside.”

He stepped back, his eyes searching yours. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No,” you replied honestly. Some of his actions were forward, but he wasn’t pushy. He was the sort of predator who probably gently played with his food before he sank his teeth in, yet you weren’t completely afraid of the bite. “Though I’m wondering why you don’t have a date tonight. Keeping your options open?”

Maybe he really did want to live the bachelor life.

The corner of his lip tugged when you narrowed your eyes. “I come to these things to make a short appearance. That’s all,” he explained. Even the wealthy had obligations. “Unlike some alphas my age, I’m not interested in having a date for the sole purpose of eye candy. And because most of the people here are fucking assholes, I don’t usually find anyone to take home.”

“So, you aren’t interested in taking me home?” you tried to tease. If he said no, you could lick your wounds later since you’d likely never see him again. If he said yes, you… Well, you didn’t know what you’d do.

He reached out and placed his hands on your hips, pulling you close enough that you felt just how big he was. A shudder wracked your body, wanting nothing more than to have him inside you. “I’m very interested in taking you home,” he breathed.

You lifted your eyes to him, his desire matching yours. “I-”

A young giggling couple stumbled out to the balcony reeking of booze. They took a few steps forward and Bucky moved you out of the way before they could crash into you. The ferocious growl he let out made the laughter cease, but it had you purring like a bitch in heat. “Leave,” he ordered, keeping his arms tight around you. The underlying threat in that single word had the couple rushing back inside, but they had effectively ruined the moment.

“I think that alpha almost pissed his pants,” you teased to cut through the tension.

“He’s lucky he didn’t tumble over the railing,” he said, loosening his hold on you and taking in your expression. You felt naked under his stare. “You aren’t ready to leave with me just yet.”

“I’m still here with a ‘date’,” you reminded him to cover up any feelings or doubts in your mind.

Other than Bucky being wealthy, powerful, and smelling like a sinful kind of heaven, you didn’t fully know him. Something within you felt like you did, but going home with him for the night… What if you disappointed him? What if he decided he didn't want you?

He gave nothing away as he stared at you while you felt like your eyes told him everything. It wasn’t fair how in control he looked when you were close to spiraling. “Let’s go sit inside,” he suggested, finally cracking a smile when your face scrunched up. “No one will bother us, and I’d like to keep talking to you even if you don’t decide to leave with me.”

“I guess it wouldn't hurt to sit with you for a few minutes,” you said, especially if he would keep others away from you.

His hand on your hip felt like it belonged there as he guided you back inside. The scents and mindless chatter didn’t bother you as much now, likely because all you could really smell and concentrate on was Bucky. Did his kisses taste like plums or whiskey? Both?

He brought to a corner near the bar, far enough away from the mingling crowd that you still felt a bit of privacy. You kept his jacket around you though the room was considerably warmer than it was outside, not quite ready to give it back to him. “Drink?” he asked, angling his chair so that his knees were touching yours. There was no table in front of you. Anyone looking would see how close you were.

“No, thanks,” you said. You already downed a glass of whiskey and your head was spinning thanks to him.

You felt his gaze on you for a full minute before he spoke again. “Your ‘date’ isn’t the reason you’re hesitating to leave,” he said, scratching along his beard. You bet it would feel wonderful between your thighs. “Is it me? Am I too old for you?”

You had to laugh. “You’re a gorgeous silver fox, so that isn’t the problem,” you said. Beneath the suit you knew he was in great shape, too.

He smiled a gorgeous smile, appreciating the compliment. “So it isn't my age. Do you think I won’t treat you well?”

“I know you’ll treat me well,” you answered, avoiding his gaze. You knew that in your core. “But I’m afraid of what happens in the morning.”

He forced your gaze back to him with a large hand. “What are you afraid of?” he asked, his thumb brushing your cheek.

Everything.

“I’m afraid if I get a taste of you it won’t be enough for one night,” you said, your heart pounding as he stared into your eyes. Like he was staring deep into your soul. “And it isn’t fair that you have that kind of power over me.”

He looked almost impressed with your answer. “I appreciate your honesty,” he praised, his thumb sweeping over your lips this time. “And it won't be enough. Once I get a taste of you, I won’t let you go.”

It wasn’t a matter of if with him, but when. “You couldn't possibly want me for more than one night,” you said. He knew you were just a struggling designer’s assistant and didn’t run with this crowd. You lived in different worlds.

“I’m going to want you every night.” He tilted his head when you shifted in your seat. “You feel it, don't you?”

You feigned innocence when he held your gaze, your heart racing. God, he had felt it. Was it an explosion, a slow burn, or something else? “Feel what?”

Bucky smirked, not at all fooled. “That you’re my-”

“Don’t say it,” you begged. Speaking the word would make it real and it wasn't something he could take back. “Because if you don’t want that or me, we can just go our separate ways and ignore it.”

He hadn’t marked you, and you hadn’t claimed him either. You didn’t know what it would feel like to have his knot, so you couldn’t possibly miss it. And neither of you would have to depend on the other. You could walk away with as minimal damage as possible, and you’d find a way to remain whole. So would he.

The low growl Bucky emitted made the nearby guests move away, but you weren’t afraid. “Ignore it? I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. I would've fucked you right out there on the balcony if that couple hadn't interrupted us,” he said, your body hot and needy at the thought of him fucking you while you looked out at the view. “I’m lucky finally finding you didn’t send me into a rut.”

You thought the same about your heat. “Bucky-”

“Our scents call to each other. We call to each other,” he said, placing his hand on your chest. How did your heart feel fuller from his touch? “Tell me you didn't feel a connection when you caught my scent and looked at me.”

“I felt something,” you admitted.

“And it compelled you enough to follow me outside, to open up to me,” he said. You couldn't deny that. “You may say you don’t belong here, but something inside you says you belong with me.”

“And that doesn’t bother you? Scare you?” you asked. Having mates could be wonderful, but what if he wanted that pull with someone who wasn’t you?

“No, it doesn’t,” he said. There wasn't even a whiff of fear, likely because he had nothing to lose. “In fact, I think you should quit your job and move in with me.

You looked at him like he suddenly grew another head. “Quit my job and move in with you?”

“Yes. Your boss doesn't deserve to have you as an assistant, and you wouldn't have to pay rent if you stayed at my place.”

You didn’t attempt to laugh off his request since he was completely serious. “You realize that sounds insane, right?” you added. It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary though. Some couples who took their time building their bond still moved in right away.

“Insane would’ve been marking you the moment I saw you and dragging you home the way some alphas do,” he said.

You bristled. “It’s too soon for you to mark me,” you said, even as your mating bond throbbed.

“Don’t worry. I won't mark you tonight,” he assured you. Hurt crept up for a split second before he ran a finger along your collar. You visibly trembled and realized that he did want to mark you. He just wasn’t doing so tonight out of respect for you. “But you can still be mine in every other way until that day comes.”

You opened your mouth to argue. He hadn’t marked you, but you still felt owned. “You really think people want you with an omega outside of your tax bracket?”

“You think I give a fuck what they think?” His handsome face twisted in a scowl as he looked around. “And if they even think about insulting you, I’ll ruin them. It’s that simple.”

“It isn’t that simple,” you said.

“Why not? I know you're meant to be mine and you know it, too.” He touched your collar again, your mating bond throbbing almost to the point of pain. “You won’t need to worry about money or a roof over your head because I’ll give it to you. And a space to design your own clothes and make your dream come true.”

It sounded too good to be true, and nothing in this world was free. “I have my rent. If I break my lease-”

“I’ll pay what you owe.”

Your rent was probably pocket change to him. At least you didn’t have a roommate you’d have to worry about. It was always too risky to rely on someone else to help with bills and utilities. “And all that in exchange for what? Being your whore?”

He snarled, and you were delighted to hear that sound. “Trust me, doll, you may want me to fuck you like a whore, but I’ll treat you like a goddess. Like my equal,” he replied, his promise touching something deep inside you and drowning out most of your fear.

You just wished the remaining would fade away.

“I want us to be equals, but do you realize that you’d have all the power until I get my designs off the ground, right? I’d have to rely on your money, your roof over my head,” you said, swallowing the small lump in your throat. Did he realize what he was asking of you? To push aside the small amount of pride and independence you had? “I’ve done fine on my own and to have to depend on you is something else altogether.”

You hoped he at the very least realized how vulnerable you were right now by opening up more.

He looked vulnerable, too, as he moved closer. “I know it’s a lot to have to depend on me, but with me you wouldn't have to do this on your own. My finances don’t mean I have power. You’d have power, too,” he said. You wanted to believe you would. “In fact, I think you’re the only person in this entire city who could bring me to my knees. That’s power.”

You smiled a little. Could you really bring him to his knees? “As flattered as I am that you want to take care of me, do I have to decide tonight?” you asked. He was saying all the right things, and it was tempting, but there was so much to figure out beyond the living arrangements.

“We can discuss it more tomorrow if you’d like,” he said, looking around as you let out a breath. He had no doubt in his mind that you would spend the night. “Have you seen your date?”

You looked around, too, not at all worried when you spotted him. A complete contrast to how you felt at the beginning of the evening. “He’s…” You gestured to the bar where Chet was flirting with the loosely dressed omega from earlier and staring right down the front of her dress.

Bucky growled and swept his eyes over you, no doubt catching how you pressed your thighs together from the sound. A growl really shouldn't be that sexy. “Not a very faithful alpha, is he?”

“Well, he isn't my alpha, remember?” you pointed out. Someone like Chet would never be. “My boss only ‘suggested’ that I go with him tonight, and I made it clear I wasn't going to sleep with him.”

There was another hint of a growl before he smiled. “Wait right here. I’m just going to tell the young pup that you’re going home with me.”

You gripped his arm as he tried to stand. “Easy, old man. I didn't say I was going home with you,” you teased, knowing full well you were in fact leaving with him.

“Old man?” he smiled.

You shrugged. “You called me ‘doll’, which sounds like something an old man would say.”

“I think an old man is exactly what you need.” His eyes flashed with a deliciously dark promise that he was right and you’d enjoy every single inch of what he’d give you. “And you didn’t explicitly say you'd go with me, but we both know I’ve swayed you to go to my place.”

“You alphas are so cocky.” You refrained from rolling your eyes since he was right in this instance. “But maybe I should just stay here a bit longer and make you work for it since you want me so badly.”

He chuckled. “You’d rather stay here? Fine by me,” he said, leaning in close. “I’ll just slide my hand up your dress here and now and feel just how wet you are for me. I doubt anyone would notice if I made you come on my fingers. They’re too caught up in themselves.”

Your eyes closed when he touched your thigh. “You think I'm wet for you?”

“I know you are. I can smell it. Can practically taste it. You’ll let me taste you, won't you?” he purred, and you could only tremble as his hand moved higher, your legs parting to give him more access. “In fact, why don't I drag your ‘date’ over and let him watch while I lay you out and feast on your cunt? Show him what you'll never give him a taste of?”

You weren't sure if the pool of arousal was from the thought of Bucky eating you like a starved man, making that sad excuse for an alpha watch while he got you off, or both. You wondered what it would be like to taste yourself on his lips. “And why would you let him see what I look like when I come?”

He seemed to consider your question. “That’s a good point. He shouldn't see how you look when you come.” Bringing his hand to your face, your breath hitched when he caressed your cheek with such care. “But you’ll never have to hide that beautiful expression from me.”

“Hey!”

You pulled away from Bucky in time to see Chet storm over. “Shit,” you whispered when he furiously looked between you and Bucky. You were shocked smoke didn't come out of his ears.

“What the hell are you doing? I said enjoy the free booze, and do not embarrass me. You can't even follow a simple instruction,” he snapped. You refused to bare your neck when he showed his teeth. He wasn’t going to embarrass you either. “The only reason you can even step foot in this place is because of me. You fucking sl-”

Bucky was out of his seat before you could blink, his hand wrapped tight around Chet’s throat and cutting off the remainder of his insult. A few patrons gasped and stopped to watch as Chet clawed at Bucky's hand, but no one stepped in to help. The anger that poured off your alpha was enough to deter anyone from getting involved. And you were loving every second of it.

“She’s my mate,” Bucky said through his teeth, making Chet’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Biology may say you’re an alpha, but you’re nothing. And I’m tempted to crush your windpipe for insulting her.” He squeezed harder and smirked when Chet wheezed. “When her boss asks how the gala went, you’re going to sing her praises. If you don't, I’ll hunt you down and make sure you can never knot anyone ever again. And that’s just the start of what I'll do to you.”

It was almost humiliating how turned on you were by Bucky's dominant display. You thought you’d be an omega who wouldn’t want an alpha acting like, well, an alpha, yet his defense of you meant a lot. “Bucky.” You stood up and smiled when he looked at you, his anger shifting to something softer. “You can let him go.”

Chet fell to the ground and coughed once Bucky released him. Your alpha bared his teeth with a snarl and Chet showed his throat like an obedient dog. It was clear who the top alpha was.

“Apologize,” Bucky commanded. Not only did Chet cough out an apology while avoiding your gaze, a few others said “sorry” as well. That was how powerful this man was. And you wanted him more than anything.

“Thanks for the free booze, Chet. And don't worry about me getting a ride home. I think you should worry if that omega still wants you after your… performance,” you smiled, linking your arm with Bucky’s. “Have a great night.”

There was no need to fake your confidence as you and Bucky walked out together. It didn't matter at the moment what they thought of you. All you could think about was how Bucky defended you, and how he called you his mate. It was out in the open. He…

Oh, God.

“Thank you for defending me, but you do realize you just told everyone that I’m your mate, right?” you whispered. That gossip would spread before the night was over.

“Is that what I did?” he asked, smirking when you hissed and glared. “And you don’t need to thank me. He had it coming.”

The smirk was still on his handsome face as the valet brought his car around. What the hell were people going to say? He didn’t care what they thought and neither should you.

“Listen, Bucky, just because you…”

Bucky held your face in his hands, leaning in so close you felt his breath against your lips. His mouth barely grazed yours, carefully teasing you with the promise of what was to come. “Just because I what?” he rasped, and you swear you felt more slick stain your already ruined panties.

“You better get me off before we get to your place,” you said instead of finishing your original statement because you truthfully forgot all about it when his lips touched yours.

Your insides tinged with more heat and desire when he nipped your bottom lip. “You better say my name when I get you off.”

“Should I say Bucky or James?” you smirked.

“Bucky. Reserve the name James for when you’re upset or extremely serious,” he winked, thanking the valet before helping you into his vehicle. You had never been in a car this nice.

“And you won’t mark me tonight?” you asked once he got up, touching the back of your collar to make sure it was still secure.

“We still have a lot to figure out before I mark you,” he said, leaning over as you sighed in relief. “But before we go…”

His mouth landed on yours, both strong and soft as he took possession of yours. The entire gala could've gone up in flames and you wouldn't have noticed since all you felt was him. You tasted his hunger when his tongue plunged inside, and there was a hint of desperation, too. He was starving for you and you moaned, deepening the kiss to show that you were just as eager.

You panted when he broke the kiss. “Don’t make me regret trusting you,” you breathed, your eyes once again giving everything away.

His nose bumped yours affectionately as he dragged his lips to your forehead. You didn't expect such a fond gesture from him, and you had to bite your tongue so you wouldn't blurt out how nice a kiss to the forehead felt. “You won’t regret it,” he whispered, sealing the promise with a kiss against your skin.

Your heart felt full, and your inner omega wanted to shout with joy. “Take me home then.”

Bucky sped off a moment later, keeping his eyes on the road in front of him. Your core ached as you looked at him, giving you a chance to once again take in his profile. The saying of aging like fine wine probably rang true for him. You imagined he was always good looking, but he was both rough and refined thanks to his age. People who said perfection didn’t exist clearly never saw him before.

“You like what you see?” he asked.

“I do, but you know that,” you answered, his jaw clenching when you pulled your dress up to reveal your legs. “And didn’t you promise to get me off before we got to your place?”

The sexual tension that had been building up spiked, and you sensed his need to claim you in some capacity was rising to the surface. “Give me your panties,” he ordered, giving you a sharp look. “Now.”

“You’re bossy,” you smiled, pushing your dress higher. He swore under his breath when you gripped your underwear and slid it off, your slick practically dripping from the flimsy fabric. No one ever got you that wet before. “But I kind of like it.”

He chuckled, licking his lips. “You like it because it’s me,” he pointed out, snatching the underwear out of your hand once it was within reach. You watched with a whine as he brought it to his nose and deeply inhaled. “Fuck…” he growled, bringing the fabric to the tent growing in his pants next and rubbing all over it in a filthy display. Watching him ruin his pants with the scent and slick of your pussy had you soaking the seat beneath you. “Spread your legs and show me that pretty cunt.”

You trembled when he took his eyes off the road. Pulling your dress over your hips, you obediently spread your legs and let him get a good look at what would soon belong to him. “You like what you see?”

“Just wait until I tie you to my bed and get a real look before I fuck you. It’ll be a shame to wreck something so pretty, but you’ll thank me for it,” he replied, looking back at the road as he sped up. Oh, you’d thank him over and over. “Touch yourself, but don’t put your fingers inside.”

Bringing your hand between your legs, you gasped at how sensitive you were. It was like you were in heat, but fully aware of your surroundings. “Like this?” you asked, moving your fingers along your folds.

“Just like that,” he whispered, his gaze darting between you and the road. You hoped one day he’d fuck your throat while he drove. “Now give me your hand.”

You presented your glistening fingers to him, giving him the opportunity to grip your wrist and suck the wet digits into his mouth. You felt his mouth water from your taste, the groan of arousal in his throat making you shake. He didn’t stop until he licked your fingers clean. “You taste just as divine as you smell,” he said, releasing your hand and reaching over to cup your mound. “And I need more.”

“I need more, too,” you moaned, his palm rubbing your clit and building that ecstasy within you. He teased your dripping hole with another finger, but didn’t push inside yet. You arched your hips, trying to get him to breach you. “Please.”

“That’s a good girl saying please,” he praised, finally pushing a thick finger inside. You clenched around him so tight, your body wanting more. “Fuck, you’re tight. And wet. Made just for me. Imagine how good you’ll feel once you’re stretched around my cock.”

“Want your cock,” you moaned, opening your legs wider. “Want your big cock inside me.”

“Yeah, you do. You want my big, bare cock in your soaked cunt,” he said, pushing another finger in, your slick coating them. You didn’t let anyone fuck you bare before, but you’d let him. “You want my knot, too.”

You moaned, an image of you on your hands and knees flashing in your mind, Bucky’s strong hands pulling you back to meet every thrust until he locked your bodies in place. You could practically feel his teeth sinking into your neck to fully seal your fate. Or would he make love to you, linking your fingers together and kissing you with care as he tenderly pushed his knot in? It didn’t matter. He’d give you everything, and you wanted it all.

“Are you hard just thinking of fucking of me raw?” you moaned, the need to rip the top of your dress open to reveal your breasts strong. No… If your dress was going to get torn to shreds, he could do that himself. “Coming so deep inside me you’ll drip out of me days later?”

The next growl he let out was inhuman, his fingers curling until you cried out. “My good little omega has a dirty mouth on her,” he smirked.

“I do have a dirty mouth. You should fuck it sometime,” you smiled sweetly before your mouth fell open, his expert fingers fucking you deep. Talking dirty to him helped stamp down your emotions a bit, but they were threatening to surface the more he touched you. “Bucky.”

“That’s it. Say my name. Tell me who you belong to,” he demanded. Your back arched, gripping the leather seat until your hand ached. Your body certainly knew who owned you. “Tell me who’s going to take care of you.”

You bit your lip to hold back your whimper, your heart pounding out of control. No one took care of you. No one wanted to until tonight, and you hadn’t wanted that either.

He stopped moving his fingers, keeping perfectly still as you hissed in frustration. Was he really going to build you up and not let you finish? “Tell me,” he demanded again, gentler this time.

Your eyes burned, but you swallowed your pride. Again. “You, Bucky,” you whispered, trusting that he’d be an alpha of his word. “You'll take care of me.”

He cooed when you whimpered, slipping a third finger in and moving them again. “That’s my girl. My good omega. I know that wasn’t easy for you to say,” he praised, so proud of you. Part of you was proud of yourself, too. “Do you need to come?”

“Yes!” you cried out, desperately trying to ride his fingers as the pressure grew. You were so close. Just a little more…

“Then do it. Get that slick all over my hand and seat,” he said, pushing against your bundle of nerves once more as your body locked up. “And say. My. Name.”

Waves of pleasure rolled through you, colors blurring your vision as you cried his name. Your eyes rolled back as the squelching sound of your cunt filled the car, his fingers helping you ride it out. You were drowning, unable to breathe until you broke through the haze. You felt ruined already by his fingers. Oh, his cock was going to destroy you.

“Fuck, that’s it. Give it to me. That’s my good girl. Can’t wait to feel that all over my cock.”

He only removed his fingers when you whined and licked your essence away with a low moan. The beautiful bastard still looked so put together, and hadn’t swerved once while he drove. “Holy shit,” you exhaled, your walls still fluttering. The orgasm took the edge off while leaving you wanting more. “Did I… soak your hand?”

“You did,” he confirmed, your face hot. “Fuck, I’m going to need an entire weekend to eat your sweet cunt just to start,” he said, flashing you a smile. “And you make very pretty sounds when you come.”

You managed a smile as you slumped in the seat, your dress still bunched around your waist. “What do you sound like when you come?” you asked breathlessly.

“You’ll find out,” he promised.

You trembled again when he put his hand back on your thigh, your hand immediately covering his. You needed his touch to ground you, but didn’t want to say so. “I just realized something,” you said once you fully caught your breath.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“If you’re my mate but you haven’t marked me yet, and you plan to pay for… well, everything for me for the time being,” you said, a laugh bubbling up when you saw that your window was fogged up. You drew a little smiley face, making you laugh more before you glanced at him. “You’re kind of like my sugar daddy.”

The look on his face before he laughed made him look younger, the sound affectionate and happy. How many managed to make him laugh like that? “Does that mean you’re going to call me ‘Daddy’?”

“Don’t push it, old man,” you giggled. Though if anyone could sway you, it would be him. “Why don’t we just stick with ‘alpha’ for now?”

“That and Bucky,” he suggested, turning his hand so your palm rested against his. “I like hearing you say my name, doll,” he added in a whisper.

“I like saying your name, Bucky,” you said, your brows furrowing. “But who came up with that nickname?”

He chuckled again, your skin tingling when he lifted your hand to kiss it. “You don’t want to hear about that.”

“Yes, I do,” you said.

He stole a glance at you. Through the heavy scent of your orgasm, you detected joy seeping from him. It made you feel happy, too. “Okay,” he smiled, running his thumb along your hand. “I got the nickname a long time ago…”

You twisted more in your seat to face him as you listened, lost in his voice and smile. There was so much you had to learn about your alpha. His likes and dislikes. What he would be like before, during, and after his ruts. He had a lot to learn about you, too. You wouldn’t give up on your dream of becoming a designer, and accepting his help may not be such a bad thing.

And maybe accepting the fact that you had a mate to depend on wouldn’t be such a bad thing either.

So, what do we think so far? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[elixirfromthestars]

Sink Your Teeth In Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Neighbor!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are supposed to attend Sam's party on Halloween. However, when you show up to his place looking like temptation itself—he gets other ideas on how to spend the night with you.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warning(s): spooky fun vibes / smut / fluff / female reader / mutual pining / love bites / dirty talk / unprotected sex / pet names / 18+ mdni / sprinkles (who am I kidding it might be a little more than just sprinkles) of possessive Bucky / breast play / a tiny moment of drinking / smut with little plot

Prompt(s): human (vampire costume) / treat (fluff, smut) / neighbor / “Why are you looking at me like that?” + “Spread them. Further.” + “You’re pretty like that.” + “There you go. Doing so good for me.” ཐི❤︎ཋྀ

a/n: uhhhhh this is what happens when you let me write while on medication post surgery lol please ignore how late this is, your girl was going through it 😭 This is for @buck-star ‘s Trick or Treat fun 🎃🧡 Also based on this ask she sent me, so this is for you Sydney 🤭🧡. I hope you all enjoy!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ❤️🦇❤️

vampire divider ♡ // main masterlist ♡ // bucky masterlist ♡

You’ve heard all the superstitions about the full moon before. The way it seemingly makes people act strangely—far from themselves. The word lunatic and lunacy are tied to the moon as well, having been believed to incite mania in people. An unrecognizable version of themselves whose impulses bordered on primal. Tonight was no exception to such superstitions as the full moon hung high in the sky on Halloween. Promising to pull the sentiments from the deepest depths of each person out into the open. 

However, in this instance, an argument could be made that the moon was not at fault for how your pulse quickened or how your heart hammered in your chest. No, not even if the moon’s glow reflected in Bucky’s eyes so beautifully that they resembled a pair of sapphires staring right back at you. Freezing you to your spot right outside his door. 

The moon was also certainly not telling you to push Bucky into his home and crash your lips onto his until your lungs begged for air. No, oh no, that was all you. 

“You here to drive a stake through my heart, doll?” Bucky’s playful tone broke you from your trance, biting his bottom lip as he held back a smug grin. A flicker of something bewitching crosses his eyes as they search yours for an answer. 

You shifted on your feet, mortification prickling your skin as you collected yourself. “I might if you don’t keep those fangs to yourself,” you quip, tapping his chest with the fake wooden stake in your hand, trying to disperse the attention away from the way you had ogled Bucky. You wouldn’t say you had a thing for vampires, but his costume was giving him this mystic allure that was fueling an unspoken desire you had been harboring for him since you met half a year ago.

Bucky’s vampire costume was far from the cheesy kind you could find at any corner pop-up Halloween store—it was quite the opposite. Bucky dawned on a crisp white dress shirt underneath a black vest that wrapped around his torso—emphasizing his broad build. A few buttons on the shirt were undone, revealing just enough skin to make your eyes wander. His black trousers fit his legs as if they had been tailored perfectly to their length. His velvet cape was an onyx color with a deep crimson lining that swayed behind him at every movement. To top it off, a pair of fangs poked out from his smile that sent a shiver down your spine from their playful danger. 

He certainly looked the part of a vampire—dreamily menacing in the best way. 

A deep chuckle leaves his lips, his eyes glinting mischievously as he winks at you, “Don't worry, doll. I won’t bite unless you ask me nicely.” His words bore a hint of a promise that caused your heart to skip a beat. Flirting with him wasn’t unusual—you’ve been doing it since you became neighbors—despite that, tonight, it felt different.

You let out a sound between a snort and a laugh—pushing away the heat that wants to spark itself into a flame, “I’ll pass on the biting, thanks, but I would appreciate a drink before we head out.” Your words are punctuated with an expression he can never say no to. 

When Bucky is met with your soft eyes and sweet smile, that appeals to him like no other—there’s no way he can say no. He opens the door wider for you to step inside, welcoming you into his home with a passing comment that he could use a drink too. You walk in with a familiarity as if the home were your own. Which—if you asked Bucky—it might as well be. You spend so much time here he’d go so far as to say this was more your place than his.

He didn’t mind that. On the contrary, this place hadn’t felt like home until you came into his life. Since you started coming around, these four walls transformed with your presence—traces of you woven into every corner. The stray hair ties that lay scattered throughout the rooms, a few of your sweaters in his closest in exchange for stealing some of his, the cat mug you claimed as yours, and your latest read left unfinished on his coffee table to be picked up and continued while he cooked dinner for you two on his nights off. All these little things and more made his house warmer, fuller, and undeniably a home. Turning this space into something he longed to come back to every night. 

You close his front door and follow him to his kitchen, the butterflies in the pit of your stomach not going away. Not that they ever did in his presence, but on some days it was easier to ignore the fluttering. 

Today would not be that kind of day. 

He reaches up into his cupboards, taking out two crystal glasses while idly chatting about the Halloween party Sam was throwing. You weren’t listening, mind elsewhere as you attempted to distract the inappropriate thoughts away, simply watching as he promptly poured out two servings of wine. He handed one to you, his hand brushing against yours at the motion—sending a jolt of electricity through it. You grip the glass a little tighter than you should and hastily take a sip. 

You would definitely need more than one drink. 

“Are you even listening, doll?” Bucky was staring at you with an amused expression, wine glass hovering at his lips as he called out your inattentiveness. Your attention gets brought back to his mouth which no longer hosts the fake fangs. He had removed them so as to not stain them with the wine. 

When had he done that? How long had the passage of time escaped you?

A warmth found its way to your face, trying to hide behind the crystal glass in your hand. Bucky knew you weren’t listening to him and his only theory as to why was clued in by the fact that your gaze continued to drift to his lips. 

“Huh? Oh, I was—it’s just…” you trail off trying to find an excuse, but when you can’t find one—or at least one you can tell him—you concede. “Sorry, what did you say?” He leans against the counter at your question, a smirk dancing on his lips. His eyes darken ever so slightly, as he ponders how far he can take the flirting tonight. 

“I said you look good, doll. I really like your costume,” he repeats his unheard compliment, shamelessly raking his eyes over your form. You gulp the rest of the wine in your cup—the spark of tension reigniting. Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away from how the black lacy gothic corset top hugged your breasts perfectly, and the matching leather pants clung to you like a second skin—leaving nothing to the imagination. And to Bucky’s added torture, you decided to strap a leather harness to your thighs that he had to resist the urge to grasp by the straps and pull you flush against his frame so you could feel how hard you made his—

Bucky stopped himself from letting his mind wander to places that would cause all of his blood to rush south. 

You looked down at your costume, not thinking much of it when putting it together. When Bucky told you he was dressing up as a vampire you thought it would be fitting to dress up as a vampire hunter. You were on a budget though, so between your closet and thrifting you came up with the outfit you’re wearing now. 

“Thanks, Bucky. You definitely did a better job though,” you compliment him, thinking that if anyone deserved praise for their costume—it was him. Bucky shakes his head, taking another sip of his wine, “Not me. Sam. He’s dressing up as a twenties mobster, so he let me borrow his costume from last year. Apparently, he goes all out every Halloween.” 

“Does he? Can’t wait to see how the party turned out then,” you comment, your nerves over meeting his friends for the first time bubbling its way into your system. Bucky gives you a small smile, the sight easing your anxieties ever so slightly, “Speaking of which—we should probably head out now. The party starts soon and Sam’s due to blow up my phone any second now,” he grumbles, finishing off the rest of his wine. A single deep red droplet runs down the corner of his mouth. Your fingers itch to wipe it off, but instead his tongue darts out to catch it—licking his lips in the process. A soft intake of breath was heard from you, an instinctive response to what he had done. The subtle sound revealing more than words ever could. 

There’s a shift in the air—it’s inevitable—you both feel it. 

The space between you is now charged, the kitchen feeling smaller and yet the space between you two, too far apart. Bucky’s eyes shine with a gentle intensity as he saunters over to you. Delicately towing at the lines you both wish to cross tonight. 

Your eyes search his for his intentions the closer he gets. Trying to decipher what you can as his left arm reaches out behind you to grab his keys—momentarily caging you. Your lower back presses against the counter, heart stuttering in your chest as the scent of cedar and spice from his cologne encases you.

“Yeah we should…” you swallow hard, voice barely audible as your eyes lock on his lips, the wine having stained them a deep crimson color. Resembling that of a vampire’s after they’ve feasted on the blood of another. A rich shiver makes its way down your spine—one he easily catches. This emboldens him, his own eyes travel down your face and then further down to observe the way your breasts strain against the corset.

Bucky was tempted to sink his teeth, and something else, into you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you found your voice somewhere between the longing that plagued you and the urge to pull him closer.

“Like what, doll?” 

“Like you’re seconds away from changing everything between us.” 

When those words leave your lips, Bucky knows there’s no point in denying it. “Maybe because I am,” he responds in a low murmur, before wasting not another second and crashing his lips against yours. His hands finding purchase at your hips and giving a light squeeze. Your lips part in a soft gasp at the sensation, his touch kindling the craving you’ve had for him from the moment you stepped foot into his house. Your hands find their way to his robe, the velvet soft underneath your fingertips as you pull him closer, wanting to leave no space for air between you. 

Bucky’s on the verge of losing his mind with your body pressed so close to his. His tongue prods gently at your mouth seeking entrance—something you eagerly give. When your tongues tangle you let out a soft moan that teeters on a whimper and it stirs something deep in his gut. He so desperately wants to pull more sounds out of you, but he needs to know you want this as much as he does. 

He pulls away from the kiss momentarily, resting his forehead against yours to catch his breath. Your hands relax and let go of his robe to rest against his chest instead. Savoring the way oxygen finds its way into your lungs again. 

“Tell me to stop and I will…” Bucky swallows hard as he says this. His mind reeling as he tries to calm the tightness in his pants. You shake your head, “I won’t. I want this, Bucky. I want you,” to assure him of your words, you pull him in by the loops of his dress pants, rolling your hips slowly against his bulge causing him to hiss at the pleasure. 

“Fuck, doll. The things you do to me.” 

“Show me.”

Your plea makes Bucky throw all hesitation out the window. Grabbing onto the straps of the harness at your thighs to press you into him and grind against you—groaning at the friction. You reach up and card your fingers through his hair to pull him down for another searing kiss. Your mouths moving with a sense of urgency and purpose. Needing to make up for all those days you only let yourselves flirt and never truly gave in to what you really wanted. 

The spark of desire bursts into embers as the intensity of the kisses increases—tongues dancing, teeth clashing, and your breaths entwined as you lose yourselves to the taste of one another. Every inch of your skin titilating in anticipation for Bucky’s touch. It’s evident you both need more, so Bucky snakes his hands down to cup your ass, hiking you up and around his waist to carry you over to the nearest surface. 

“You’re. So. Goddamn. Beautiful,” Bucky punctuates every word with nips to your jawline as he places you on the granite island. Your fingers brush past the edge of something plastic as you steady yourself on the cool surface. Your eyes reflexively look over and see the fake fangs Bucky had on earlier. Your remember the way they looked on him and your mind wanders to what his own teeth can do.

“Bite me,” the words slip out before you register how demanding they may sound. A deep rumble resonates from Bucky as he laughs at the way you said it. He removes himself from your jawline to get a good look at you—his cock twitching at the sight of you. 

Your chest heaved with exertion from all the air Bucky stole from you, your breasts threatening to spill out from your corset—lips swollen and pupils blown wide with desire. Knowing that this was your reaction to his kisses, to his touch, to him before you’ve even gotten to the main part—Bucky had to stop himself from coming undone then and there knowing he had such an effect on you. 

“Didn’t I say you had to ask nicely, doll?” he mocks playfully, eliciting a needy whine from you. The sound goes straight to his dick as it painfully aches to be inside you. He doesn’t think he can hold out much longer, as much as he’s enjoying the kisses. 

“Spread them. Further,” Bucky mutters the command into your lips, his hands sliding up your legs. You oblige his request, giving him more space to settle between your thighs. Your fingers thread through his hair as he trails open-mouthed kisses down to your pulse point—nipping and sucking hard enough to leave marks.

Bucky relishes in the soft whines and whimpers that leave you whenever he bites down just enough to hit the bliss point between pain and pleasure—soothing any remaining sting with his tongue. He catches the way your nipples harden underneath your corset—pressing against the fabric—making him crave a taste. 

“Gonna mark you up pretty girl—everywhere,” the low murmur of a promise is sealed into your skin, teeth grazing your neck delicately as he holds off on marking you there for the time being. His fingers hastily unhook the clasps of your corset, your breasts spilling out. He cups them in his hands, kneading the soft flesh while you moan copiously. Bucky greedily swallows every single one. 

His head dips down to pepper kisses across the valley of your breasts before dragging his tongue across one hardened nipple—teasing you as your breathing grew ragged. Your chest arches into him, moaning out his name as he moves to the other breast. Taking the unkissed bud into his mouth and sucking on it with a hunger that borders on savage.

“I know I said bite me, but watch those teeth.” 

“I’ll be good, doll. I’ll be real good to you.” 

He chuckles against your breast, causing delicious vibrations that send shivers down your spine. He moves over to the other nipple, giving it a playful nip that causes you to hiss out a watch it. He laughs again, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he continues to worship your breasts. The pleasure shoots straight to the throbbing between your legs, your underwear dampening. 

Nimble fingers find their way to his dress shirt and vest where you do your best to unbutton as much as you can, needing to see and touch more of him. You run your fingers down the hard planes of his chest and abs—your touch leaving heat in its wake. Bucky continues to lavish attention to your sensitive buds, his lips swirling and sucking the peaks insatiably. 

When his lungs burn for air he reluctantly releases your nipple with a wet pop—pulling away to see the evidence he’s left on your skin. “Mmm, you’re pretty like that doll—all marked up by me,” his fingers trailing and tracing over the marks he’s left on your neck, your collarbone, and your breasts. His thumb brushing over them with feather-like touches as an almost affectionate gesture. Your body shudders at the possessive gleam in his eyes—one that only intensifies the more his gaze lingers on your skin. 

You’ve never seen him look at you like this before—and you didn’t mind it. Not one bit.

“Bucky…please…I need more of you.”

“I know, baby. I’ll give you what you need.” 

As if the word baby wasn’t enough to have your heart leap out of your chest—Bucky’s fingers toying with the harness at your thighs, and the button of your pants certainly did. Swiftly, he proceeds to undo it all and the zipper. You eagerly help him slip it all off, and when his gaze meets the soaked front of your seamless cotton panties, a husky growl reverberates in his chest. His fingers hook at the edges while his teeth graze along the front of the fabric. The action takes your breath away, your heart racing a mile a minute. His hooded eyes bore into yours as he takes the fabric between his teeth and drags it down your body, baring your slick folds to him—he groans at the sight. 

“Fuck, doll, so ready for me.”

Bucky takes your panties and pockets them. Just as you're about to give him shit for it, he springs up to kiss your lips fervently. Hands at your thighs massaging the soft flesh, his thumbs brushing ever so slightly where you need him most. All prior thoughts are forgotten as you reach for Bucky's belt, desperately removing all obstacles until you can easily slide your hand into his pants. You palm over the bulge in his boxers, stroking him through the fabric. Your eyes widen at the feel of his size causing him to grin at you wolfishly.

“Something the matter, doll?” 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” 

Your confident tone provokes a deep rumble in Bucky’s throat. His hips jerk forward involuntarily, seeking more of your arousing touch. He pulls his pants and boxers down and off, freeing his cock. It springs forth, long and thick, the tip already glistening with precum. "Got me all worked up, baby. Just look at it—fuck," his voice is thick with lust, guiding your hand to wrap around his shaft. Your hand glides against him, causing him to let out a low grunt followed by the neediest moans. His nose brushes against yours as he tries not to entirely lose himself to the sheer pleasure that courses through him at your touch. 

Almost desperately, he leans in to capture your mouth again, kissing you deeply, his hips rocking into your hand at the rhythm of your movements. His flesh hand grabs the back of your neck to keep you close as he devours you, while his metal one trails up between your thighs—the coolness teasing the delicate skin—contrasting the heat that builds with the kiss. You moan into it, reveling in the feel of Bucky’s length in your hand as you stroke him slowly, becoming familiar with it. 

Bucky groans into your mouth, a resonant growl of pure want. His fingers go higher up your thighs until the cool metal grazes against your center, drawing out a whimper from you. Your thighs part further in response causing him to smirk against your lips. A smirk that falls into a ravenous hiss as his fingers brush your folds, the sick arousal coating them as he dips to circle your entrance teasingly—your hips bucking in response. 

“Bucky…” his name falls from your mouth with a carnal yearning that snaps Bucky's control entirely. His hands grip your hips to pull you closer to him—balancing you on the edge of the counter. He takes hold of his cock, positioning himself at your entrance, the head brushing against your cunt. Your patience is nonexistent at this point. 

“Bucky, if you tell me to ask nicely I swear to ah—” Bucky cuts off your whiny gripe with one swift thrust, burying himself inside you until he fills you completely. “What was that?” his cheeky question does little to hide he’s just as overwhelmed with how good it feels as you are. Yet, with the cockiest grin, he drinks up your hazy expression as you adjust to his thickness. 

Something shifts inside him when you look at him with soft adoring eyes, filling his heart with a thing that can only be called love. It causes him to pepper kisses—gentle and tender—all over your face to help ease the achy stretch. You melt into them, so contrastingly soft to the prior ones that your heart does a little flip. The deeper feelings behind them not lost on you. Even more so when he whispers the sweetest words of devotion at every kiss. How beautiful you are, how good you feel, how good he wants to make you feel, how he’s dreamed of this, and so much more. All the meanwhile, his thumbs massage comforting circles into your hips. 

“There you go. Doing so good for me, doll,” he praises you when he starts to feel your hips slowly move against him—pleasure replacing the ache. He reciprocates your desire, rocking into you slowly, letting you feel every inch until he goes as deep as possible once more—both of you calling out each other’s name by the time you’ve fully adjusted. 

It’s like this at first—slow and deep—dragging out each thrust to savor the sensation of intimacy. Breathy kisses with exchanged whispers blend with one another, your hands wrapped around his shoulders to keep him close. Fingers gently tugging on his brown locks at the nape of his neck, which only serves to drive him crazier. Making it hard for him to keep his restraint in check.

“Been dying to have you, baby. Fuck, you feel incredible,” he groans out, continuing to bury himself deep into your welcoming heat. But it’s not enough—not for either of you. Not when it does little to help fully unleash all the pent-up hunger that has built up over the course of months. You feel it in the way Bucky grips your hips tight enough to leave bruises to ground himself, and he can feel it in the way your legs wrap around his hips and lock behind him—pushing him in impossibly deeper.

One of you is bound to break soon—and it won’t be you. 

You cup his face in your hands, eyes glazed over and needy as you tell him, “Bucky, don’t hold back. It’s okay. You don’t need to hold back,” you assure him, his pace faltering slightly. Bucky’s blue eyes search yours for a reason not to give in. “I don’t want to hurt you, Y/n. I don’t know if I can trust myself,” the vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heartstrings, your thumbs gently caressing his face to soothe him. He instantly leans into your touch, the comfort it offers addicting. 

You shake your head, planting a soft kiss on his forehead, “You won’t. I trust you, Bucky. I told you—I can handle it, baby—please, baby,” at the term of endearment the rope of restraint inside Bucky snaps. You had never called him baby before, but now that you had Bucky wanted to know what else he had to do—or not do—to keep making you call him baby like that. 

“Keep calling me baby and you’ll get everything you want, beautiful,” Bucky nips at your bottom lip—eyes darkening—turning his pretty blues into a storm. One that’s ready to consume you. He grips your hips harder, picking up his pace until he’s pounding into you with reckless abandon, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. You meet his powerful thrusts with equal fervor, a stream of curses and sobs of his name falling from your lips. The counter beneath you shakes and for a moment you’re worried he’s going to break it, but the worry washes away instantly as it feels too good to give a damn. 

“Gonna keep marking you up, doll. Want everyone to see my pretty girl all marked up,” he growls, head dipping down to nip and suck on your neck. Bruising kisses strewn along the delicate skin of your collarbone until his teeth graze your shoulder. Your cunt throbs in time with the relentless onslaught of his cock—bodies synced in pure desire. Every touch, every thrust, every kiss, and every word is a brutal assault on your senses. All filled with his overwhelming want of you. 

“Bucky, s-so good, please…” you plead breathlessly for who knows what. Mind fuzzy and gone, only focusing on the searing pleasure in your veins. Bucky lets out a deep chuckle, lips finding their way to yours, metal hand snaking to palm your breast while his other keeps a tight grip on your hips.“Atta girl—taking me so well,” he grunts out, cunt fluttering at his praise, causing him to let out a half moan half chuckle. You’re close to finishing and he can feel it. 

“Cum for me, doll. Be a good girl and cum for me, baby,” Bucky commands, pounding into you with renewed vigor as he works to get you both to your releases. “Baby…I’m gonna…I’m close,” you whimper out and Bucky's response to you is immediate, his hips snapping forward even faster, harder. His metal hand lowers between your legs to apply pressure and circles to your clit. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the kitchen—the room forevermore ingrained with the actions of tonight. 

Your body bows off the counter as you scream out his name, your orgasm crashing over you with a hot intensity. Bucky keeps you close and steady, your inner muscles clamping around him like a vice—triggering his climax. Bucky lets out a guttural growl of your name, biting down on your shoulder as his release pours out, burying himself to the hilt as he fills you. The intense contractions milking his shaft for all he’s worth. 

You collapse back onto the counter, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath—body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Bucky shudders from the force of his climax, cock twitching and pulsing as the last of his cum drips out. His upper body collapses on top of you, holding you close as his face buries into the crook of your neck, both of you trembling with the aftermath of your coupling. He trails loving kisses from your neck to your shoulder, not wanting to be apart from you. 

“You did so good, doll—my doll,” he mutters into your shoulder, kissing the area he had previously bitten, nuzzling the marks he left. You can only muster a breathless whimper as he gradually pulls out of you, your combined arousal spreading along the inner skin of your thighs and down onto the counter. He raises his head just enough to admire his handiwork—you, flushed and disheveled, with multiple bite marks and hickeys proudly displayed across your skin.

"I could get used to this—seeing you like this," Bucky says with a satisfied smirk, his gaze roaming over your figure appreciatively. You let out a breathless laugh, “Yeah? I think I could too, baby…” You can feel the way his cock threatens to harden again, the look in his eyes warning you to not push it. He lowers his mouth onto yours again in a hopeless attempt to silence you. 

“Doll, you can’t say it like that. I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

“What about the party, baby?”

That about does it for Bucky. 

“Screw the party. I’d rather show my pretty girl, my baby—a good time here,” he mumbles against your lips, his breath hot and uneven as he picks you up from the counter. You giggle out a gasp as he carries you over to his bedroom where he does indeed show you a good time—a great time, in fact, all night long. 

Happy Halloween to you. 

[cybertron-after-dark]

what the FUCK happens in cyberverse

Here's a list just off the top of my head, in no particular order. MASSIVE spoilers ahead.

-Wheeljack keeps making party drugs. This is not only accepted but wholly encouraged by the Autobots. He's made the bot equivalent to cocaine so strong it made grimlock physically unable to stop himself from running around the ship at mach 5. This was the basis for an entire episode. He's also made patches that give you a direct link to the Allspark that he passed out at a party specifically to get everyone as fucked up as physically possible. I cannot overemphasize that Optimus make no effort to stop this until things turn destructive on both occasions.

-Soundwave and Shockwave completely fucking hate each other and have a whole rivalry trying to be a better and more useful follower for Megatron than each other.

-Soundwave is a fucking memelord who will play clown music or dramatic riffs to dunk on people from the soundboard he has built into his hardware.

-theres a sort of liminal dimension referred to as Unspace that you can get stuck in and if you are there for too long you will straight up disintegrate. We see this happen to the entire crew aboard the arc from different timelines several times while the main timeline crew we follow tries to escape this fate, thus dooming dozens of other timelines.

-Cheetor is basically Allspark Jesus, and he's tired of all the fighting, so he tries to have Optimus and Megatron settle their differences once and for all. The chosen method for this was making them both play the Newlywed Game. They were both terrible at it, the MegOp Divorce agenda is alive and well.

-the Quintessons invade Cybertron and stick the entire population into a simulation a la The Matrix, which slowly drains their life force until they die. This kills countless unnamed Cybertronians, both Autobot and Decepticon, as well as Hound, who does not get to appear on screen.

-the Quintessons also catch Starscream, rip his face off, and modify him into an Eldritch tentacle beast with his brain attached to two other aliens, and then appoint that amalgamation as the judge that decides the fate of the universe in regards to whether they exterminate all life within it.

-Shockwave commits suicide for Megatron's approval. He launches his spark straight into the Allspark to taint it specifically as a last desperate fuck you to the autobots.

-Soundwave acquired laserbeak by just kind of grabbing a random bird out of the sky.

-Soundblaster is an ex-decepticon that left out of shame. That shame being Soundwave beating his ass in a beatboxing competition so fuckin hard he couldn't show his face around his faction anymore.

-The autobots keep starscream captive and try to get him to take a therapy session with the Arc's AI, and he starts out willing to actually give it a shot but said AI is kind of Stupid and screamer ends up tricking him into letting him escape through an air vent to go wreak havoc instead.

-Starscream also starts a suicide cult with the other Seekers, gains control of Vector Sigma and the Allspark, has the seekers forfeit their sparks to him, thus resulting in a cosmically powered Starscream. He uses that power to "remake" his followers into scraplets that he refers to as, with nothing but love in his tone, his "children."

-Shockwave and Wheeljack are shown to be ex lab partners. Shockwave has an army of drones that look exactly like his altmode that Wheeljack helped program. They are programmed to be able to break out into a coordinated dance number at any given time. Originally this was just to make Wheeljack laugh. Shockwave kept that function in throughout the entire war and initiates it the second there's a truce and Wheeljack asks to see it again.

-Shockwave kidnaps Wheeljack at one point for Science Under Duress purposes and Wheeljack is too invested in all the sweet fuckin tech Shockwave's been making while they were apart to really care that he's being held against his will, and then proceeds to escape without too much issue because he knows Shockwave well enough to know exactly how to disable everything.

-Bumblebee distracts the Decepticons by running in front of their surveillance cameras and shaking his ass in the most underwhelming way imaginable.

-Grimlock is only stupid when he's in his altmode because it takes a lot of power to sustain and he has to sacrifice some of his higher brain functions to keep it manageable. In robot mode he talks like he went to an Ivy League college and knows what champagne tastes like. He throws upscale parties every chance he gets.

-Grimlock also helped start an anticapitalist revolution with Bumblebee when he found an underground society of insect transformers that had a rigid caste system. This was within moments of finding out that the ultra wealthy were hoarding the limited energon reserves for themselves. Grimlock is a comrade and he does not fuck around.

-Skybyte is here and he sounds like Skeletor.

-Windblade and Slipstream are nemeses and somehow it's even more toxic yuri coded than Arcee and airachnid in tfp.

-speaking of Arcee, she's besties with Grimlock. They at one point have a physical fight over who gets to die to protect the other.

-hot rod and soundwave are forced to share leadership over the team of bots and cons that escaped the quintessons' simulation and it's packed with so much homoerotic tension its unreal.

-Maccadam is some kind of lovecraftian war machine that can unfold himself into a whole armory whenever he feels like it. We have no idea what his whole altmode looks like, all we see are the ominous shadows of the weapons on the walls. He uses this specifically as a threat to keep anyone from fighting in his bar bc he's insistent it remain neutral ground. He also can kinda just. See into the future. And casually drops prophecies that get written off as spoonerisms until they turn out to be relevant.

-Optimus Prime has horrific social anxiety that he can kind of power through when he's in a crisis, but the second things are chill and he has to give a speech at a party or something he simply does not know how to function.

-the entire planet of Velocitron gets taken over by cosmic rust and everyone inhabiting it that couldn't escape in time was killed horrifically.

-cosmos is a girl and she hangs out with a dude named Meteorfire who is, for all intents and purposes, just robot Steve Irwin.

-Astrotrain keeps closing doors in people's faces for the funny

-Megatron is killed by a version of himself from an alternate universe that went nuts and starting creating a master race of perfect Decepticons to inhabit Cybertron. Said perfect Decepticons were carbon copies of idw Tarn in all but personality.

-Acidstorm is canonically genderfluid and keeps switching between male and female seeker frames whenever they feel like it

-Kup, who had not been in the show at all until this point, decides to show up and narrate an entire episode like hes giving a political speech.

And, the infamous one we all know and love

-Megatron is a twitch streamer and he livestreams Starscream's fucking funeral. The chat has custom Decepticon emotes.

[finelinefae]

rose [tattooH x innocenty/n]

synopsis: Harry's a tattoo artist who can't figure out the best way to say how in love he is with the flower shop owner next door

word count: 10.5k

content warnings: smut (first time oral f recieving, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N), brief mentions of violence

read part 1 here

this is a lot !! like a lot happens !! also everyone smiles a lot,, i can't help it they're happy

. . .

Harry had come to the conclusion that of all the things he had had to do in his twenty-six years of life - all the things he had to do and say to get where he was today - saying I love you to his girlfriend was proving to be one of the most intricate tasks he had encountered.

And it wasn't because he didn't love her. From the moment she stepped into his tattoo shop with determination and fear all intertwined into one expression right up until now, he was pretty sure his relationship with Y/N was the physical embodiment of what it meant to be loved and to love in return.

He had learnt so much about the sweet, pretty girl next door. From her little habits and small quirks that she didn't think he ever noticed.

Y/N loved wearing Harry's clothes. He had bought a new band tee from an online shop one of his friends had recommended to him. When the parcel hadn't arrived on time, he wondered if it had gotten lost in transit or they'd delivered it to the wrong address. He had emailed them once or twice to see its whereabouts only to find the Fleetwood Mac t-shirt on the body of his girlfriend asleep on his sofa when he came home from work. "But Harry, they're so soft and comfy!" She argued when he accused her the next morning. "Know that baby but I need clothes to wear." He was trying not to smile and pinch her cheeks when he caught a glimpse of her pouty lips. "But Harry-" He couldn't help but interrupt her with a quick kiss to her lips, "Can use some of my old shirts flower, y' can pick them out. C'mon sweet girl," He led her to his wardrobe and let her scramble through the box of his old shirts.

She loved being praised. Harry thought it was the cutest thing ever when he'd compliment her or tell her how good she was for him and her cheeks would turn a dusky pink colour. He'd often find himself kissing the crescent moon-shaped dimples on her cheeks whenever she'd beam up at him after he mumbled sweet praises into her ear, "M' good girl," He'd say, "Best girl, m' favourite flower."

She loved physical touch from him and him only. His favourite time of day was coming home after a busy day of working and finding his darling girl sitting up in bed, either reading or watching TV, waiting for him in his favourite soft, satin pyjamas she wears (he loved the feel of them under his hands whenever he held her). She'd make grabby hands for him as soon as she saw him walk through the door of her bedroom, wanting to touch him almost immediately. He'd kiss her a few times, run his fingers through her hair, stroke her cheek and brush his fingers over her arm. Even when they were walking through the streets of the town, Y/N would often cling to Harry - feeling anxious being around too many people. He'd comfort her with soothing touches, rubbing circles on the pulse point on her wrist to make sure she was okay.

There were so many things Harry had come to adore about his favourite girl in the entire world. From the way she'd look at him with big rounded eyes as though he hung up the moon and stars in the sky or knew the answer to everything she asked, to the way she'd melt under his touch whenever they'd do something even slightly intimate. He was so in love... He just didn't know how to tell her that.

Harry had never been in a serious relationship before so the idea of love didn't come easy to him. He had spent the majority of his life believing he was destined to be lonely, finding himself in one-night stands and never getting past the first date for lack of connection. He didn't know what romantic love looked like, felt like or even if it existed at all until he met his favourite flower. 

Moments would crop up where he could feel the first syllable spike the tip of his tongue but invisible hands wrapped themself around his neck as he tried to let the words out. Y/N would sit patiently, waiting for him to continue speaking, but he'd just end up kissing her, hoping he could communicate his words without saying them.

He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when it came to saying those three simple words, words that carried so much weight between them. Maybe it was because he wanted the moment to be special and memorable for her, so he waited for the perfect opportunity to confess. But the anticipation was driving him a bit crazy.

It was very early Wednesday morning. Y/N was cutting up sheets of tissue paper since it was nearing winter and people would be out buying gifts soon for their loved ones. She had ordered a bunch of new seed packets and planned to make little gift sets to sell.

Harry was sitting at the workshop table in the middle of the shop. He was wearing his shorts and a black hoodie with the hood pulled over his head. He wore his worn-out, white Vans as if they were slippers, with the left shoe dangling precariously from his toes, threatening to slide off at any moment. His tired eyes tried to remain focused on counting the coins for Y/N's till since she always miscalculated and would have to go visit him for more money even though his shop was cashless which he reminded her every time as he slipped her a five-pound note from his own back pocket.

The shop was silent in the early hours of the morning as the two worked separately. Y/N enjoyed that she didn't constantly have to make conversation with her boyfriend for him to be interested. They were happy to just be in each other's company for as long as possible.

"Baby," Harry's raspy voice broke the comfortable silence between them. Y/N's head lifted naturally in response, "C'mere." He opened his arm out but his eyes were still trained on counting the coins.

Y/N smiled tiredly and walked over to him, tucking herself into his side and holding onto the arm that wrapped around her. He kissed the top of her head, "Didn't get to hold y' this morning, left me cold." He murmured against her.

"M sorry, H. It's always stressful when the season changes." She sighed, thinking about all the work she still had yet to do before autumn passed.

"S okay, just missed you is all." He hummed. Y/N turned herself so she was pressed against the worktop and looking up at him. She loved every version of Harry at all times of day but something about Harry in the morning made her swoon. He was so soft and cuddly, needy and grabby, she'd always have to pry his hands off of her in the morning so she could get to work on time.

Y/N grinned and leaned her head forward, past the hood of his sweatshirt, to kiss him. "Wanted to ask you if y’ would come on a date with me this Saturday.” He whispered, eyes still closed from kissing her.

Every eight weeks, Y/N’s shop would close for the entire weekend. Since her shop was open most days, she wanted to give herself at least some time off to look forward to. Harry knew that particular weekend was coming up because of how much she was looking forward to it so he made sure to free up his weekend too so he could take her out for the day. 

They had been on dinner dates and done a few other things here and there but there was only so much they could do in their small town. So as soon as he thought of the idea, he booked train tickets to take Y/N to the coast for the day. 

“Hmmm,” Y/N sighed, reaching into his hood to wrap her arms around his neck, his skin warm against her touch. “Where would we go?”

“S a surprise,” He whispered into her ear, his breath warm. 

“I’d love to go on a date with you Harry,” She replied, voice soft. 

“Yeah? It’ll be cold so you’ll need to wear a sweater.” He told her. 

"I only own sweaters," She rolled her eyes, pushing away from him so she could get back to work.

"Yeah, my sweaters." Harry teased.

Y/N narrowed her eyes, "Get back to counting those coins or you'll be fired."

"Yes ma'am," He couldn't stop smiling to himself as he carried on counting each penny.

. . .

The small train was busy on the way to the coast on Saturday morning but luckily they had managed to grab two seats next to each other by the window. Y/N insisted that they listened to one of the very many playlists she had curated for them both to listen to. It wasn’t long into their relationship that Harry had come to realise that music was one of Y/N’s love languages. 

He remembered when he first moved in and heard her music through the walls of her apartment as he bought his food shopping up the stairs his first night. The music played well into the night and he had planned to knock on her door and ask her to turn it down like she had done to him the day they had first met, but his ears caught onto her singing. He pressed his ear up against the door and listened as she sang to herself whilst dishes clinked together. She wasn’t the best singer he had ever heard but something about her soft voice soothed him, so he turned around and went about his night with the girl singing next door. 

Y/N pulled out her wired earbuds not long after they’d sat down and gave one of them to Harry. After Hours by The Velvet Underground started playing and Harry smiled to himself as he watched Y/N gaze out the window of the train. He reached for her hand which was covered by her fingerless gloves she had crocheted herself and intertwined their fingers together. 

The train pulled into the final station an hour later. Harry held tightly onto Y/N as people bustled to get on and off the train at the same time. The weather wasn’t perfect when they had arrived - slightly overcast and grey - but it didn’t stop Y/N from gasping at the sight of the ocean in front of her. 

“Harry look!” She pointed as the waves rolled into the shore. She looked adorable in her white hat and earmuffs, her white puffer coat made her look like a giant marshmallow. She was almost matching Harry, in his black puffer coat and green bobble hat. 

“Y/N! Slow down baby,” He called for her as he ran to catch up with her. 

They walked down the steps and onto the beach which was practically void of any people other than a few dog walkers. He was thankful he had told her to wear a thick coat since the wind was bitter and cold. Harry’s smile was so wide, that his dimples pierced each one of his cheeks as he watched her run around in her UGG boots and leggings. 

“Beautiful,” Harry whispered, hoping the words would get caught in the wind and blow straight to her so she could hear them. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen the sea,” She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh sea air. Harry came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

They walked side by side with each other. Harry held Y/N’s hand inside the pocket of his coat and every once in a while, she would stop to pick up a shell which she would pass to him to put in his other coat pocket. At some point, it started to drizzle down with rain but they carried on walking and talking along the beach. 

Harry would watch as Y/N ran up to the sea to pick up bits of sea glass and try to not get caught by the water. She looked adorable as she ran up the beach looking back at him with her woolly hat and giant coat swamping her. Strands of hair stuck to her damp, rosy cheeks as rain dripped from her coat since they had been out so long. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of her as she crouched down to look at something she’d found in the sand. He made a mental note to share it on everything he possibly could so everyone in his life would know how much he loved her, even if she didn’t know just yet. 

Harry swore he was going to tell her he was in love with her right there and then but his heart fell out of his chest when he watched her trip and stumble back onto the sand. “Y/N,” He rushed over, immediately wanting to check if she was okay, only to be met with her giggling and laying back on the sand like a starfish on land. 

“Lay here with me,” She patted the spot next to her. 

The last thing Harry wanted to do was get his new black trousers wet and dirty from the sand but he would do anything and everything she asked him to do so he fell onto the sand and laid right next to her. 

His pinky finger hooked with hers as they both looked up at the sky, “Are you happy flower?” He asked.

“I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life,” She confesses and the words make Harry’s heart grow ten times the size. “I think spending time with you is when I’m the happiest Harry.”

When it reached past midday, Harry took Y/N to grab something to eat before they had to take the train home again. Their coats were dripping when they stepped inside the small cafe Harry had picked out for them. The kind owner had even offered to dry them both for them before they had to leave again. 

“Harry,” She gasped, “They do blueberry pancakes!” 

Harry smirked, not wanting to tell her that he had picked this cafe specifically because they made one of Y/N’s favourite foods, “Really? Tha’s your favourite right baby?”

She nods, “I’m gonna get that- ooo it even comes with the option of honey or syrup!” Y/N beams. 

By the time their food had arrived, they were well invested in conversation, “Was thinking of getting my ear pierced next weekend. One of my mates has free space and thought it would be fun to get a hoop or something.” Harry tells her. 

Y/N paused on chewing her pancake as she pictured her boyfriend with a hoop earring. She swallowed down her food before getting out, “That would be hot.”

Harry laughs at her bluntness, “Yeah?” He smirked, “You think so?” Y/N nodded, her cheeks tinged pink. 

Although they kissed and made out at any spare moment they could, they hadn’t really branched out from the time Harry had touched her for the first time. Y/N knew Harry was trying to be patient about it - he was a gentleman like that - but she was going crazy not having his ring-clad hands touching her skin, providing that ecstasy he had given her a glimpse of for the first time.  

“Y alright there flower?” Harry crooned, “Anything on your mind you’d care to share.”

Y/N shook her head, ridding them of her dirty thoughts, “M okay, H.” 

“Alright,” His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her, “You look beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Her eyes softened, “And thank you for bringing me here today, I’ve loved being here with you.”

Harry parted his lips as if to respond, but found himself speechless, the words trapped somewhere in his throat. Y/N looked at him expectantly, her eyes silently urging him to express whatever was on his mind. With a sigh, his shoulders slumped, and he finally spoke, "I've loved being here with you too. I love every moment I get to be with you." Y/N beamed as Harry inwardly cursed himself for being unable to articulate the depth of his feelings. Yet, as he saw the radiant smile spread across Y/N's face, he couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and contentment wash over him, knowing that his words were enough to reach her for now. 

After the train journey home, which took slightly longer than anticipated, Harry carried Y/N up to her apartment and into her bedroom where he slumped her down on her bed. Y/N hummed at the feeling of her warm, cosy sheets beneath her. “Comfy m’love?” He grinned, tugging the sleeves of his coat off so he was just in his white t-shirt and black trousers. 

“I’m so sleepy,” Y/N sighed, eyes closed whilst Harry tugged her shoes off as her feet dangled over the edge of the bed.

“Cause you’ve been running around all day huh? Could barely keep up with you half the time.” Harry briefly massages the souls of her feet after taking both her shoes off, knowing they were probably aching from running on the beach all day.

“But it was sooo much fun,” Y/N whined, her tired eyes peering down at Harry.

“Yeah, yeah, I know that lovie. Need to get y’ out of these clothes so I can put them in the wash.” He tugs on her leggings.

“Can you do it?” Y/N asks, “M too tired.”

Harry pauses, “Y’ sure baby? Don’t want y’ to be uncomfortable.” 

“M sure Harry, I trust you.” She tells him.

He smiles to himself as her words settle in the space between them. A smile curves his lips almost involuntarily, reflecting the quiet gratitude he feels towards her trust.  “Alright, lift y’ hips for me, flower.” He instructs and Y/N does as she’s told, lifting her hips so he can pull down her leggings leaving her in her pink lacey panties. 

Harry swallows as he sees the apex of her thighs. He hadn’t seen this much of her before and he could already feel himself harden in his jeans at the sight of her. “Think y’ can sit up for me flower? Jus’ so I can’t take your sweater off?” He tries to stop staring at her bare legs but he can’t seem to take his eyes away.

Y/N groans but does as she’s told, sitting up and putting her arms up so Harry can remove the sweater from her torso. Her eyes are still shut and Harry gently pulls the soft sweater over her head. 

When her eyes open, the first thing Y/N sees is Harry standing above her with his gaze fixed on her figure and she realizes this is the most he's ever seen of her yet. She had nothing but a vest and underwear to cover her body. Y/N was pretty sure he could see the curve of her breasts and the outline of her nipples through the thin, white material. 

“Harry…” she whispers, suddenly realising what was happening, how the temperature in the room had suddenly shifted.

Y/N shivered as Harry cupped her cheek and bent forward to kiss her. She leaned backwards onto the bed, resting on her elbows as Harry kept his hold on her cheek, using his other hand to place on her hip as he crawled on top of her. His hand was warm and big and his fingertips pressed into her skin sending a joint of electricity down through her body. 

They kissed and Harry groaned as Y/N uncontrollably rolled her hips into him, “Harry,” Y/N repeated, placing her hands on his chest.

“What baby?” He asks.

“I-I feel strange,” She confesses, not really knowing how to go about telling him what was on her mind.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N shook her head immediately, “N-no nothing’s wrong. It’s just… Remember last time? When you…” she couldn’t seem to finish her sentence, too embarrassed to describe what Harry had done when he taught her how to touch herself.

“What about it?” He wonders, patience and curiosity on his face.

“I-I want to do it again but different.” She cringed at her words, “I mean, I want to try something new. L-like I want you to show me something new I mean.” 

Harry’s features softened, “Yeah? You want me to take care of you huh?”

Y/N nodded, relieved he understood what she was hinting at without her having to admit it herself, “Yes.”

“What do you want me to do baby?” He kisses down the side of her neck, Y/N’s head rolling to the side to give him more room to explore her skin.

“I-I don’t know,” 

“Oh I think you do flower otherwise you wouldn’t be asking for something new to try would you?” He sucks on the skin of her neck and she whines at the feeling. His green eyes meet hers as he lifts his head up, “C’mon sweet girl, tell daddy what you want from him.” 

Her mouth fell open and her heart beat erratically in her chest, “I-I need you down there daddy.” 

“Yeah? You want daddy to touch you down there baby?” 

“Y-yes daddy please.”

“Still so polite.” Y/N seemed to melt as he crawled down her placid form, he could do anything to her and she wouldn't mind as long as he was touching her in some way.

She suddenly gasped when she felt him blow warm air onto her nipple beneath her vest. “Can I lift your vest baby? Can you let daddy see these cute tits?” 

“Mhm,” She hummed, her body vibrating with excitement and nerves. Harry’s fingertips brushed the skin of her tummy as he pulled her vest up to reveal her breasts. 

“Fuck baby,” Harry groaned. “You’re so beautiful.” 

“Your shirt too!” Y/N insisted, feeling a little insecure as Harry was still in his white shirt.

Harry was quick to pull off his shirt to reveal his tattooed torso that Y/N had traced and slept on almost every night since they had met. Her hands were immediately on his warm skin as he kissed down the swell of her breasts. Y/N gasped as Harry gently pressed a kiss to her left nipple, sliding his other hand up to cup her other one, “See that? Y’ were made for daddy.” He said as her breast fit perfectly in his hand. 

“Daddy I need you,” Y/N whispered.

“Such a greedy girl.” He tuts, “Trying to worship you ‘n you’re just begging me to make you cum.” 

“N-no-” Y/N wanted to argue but Harry quickly kissed her lips before moving down her body. 

“Look at these pretty panties. Can already see you’re all soaked through them.” Y/N could practically hear the smile on his face. “Can I see baby?” 

“Y-Yes, daddy.” She swallowed back her nerves, even though Harry had already seen her down there, it was her first time experiencing someone be so up close. Y/N felt his fingers hook around the waistband of her panties until they were halfway down her thighs and waited for him to react.

“Fuck me,” Harry hisses. “Won’t ever get over the sight of this pretty pussy. Always manage to live up to y’ nickname, don’t y’ flower?” 

Y/N’s cheeks heat but before she has time to protest Harry leans forward and presses a kiss to her throbbing pussy. She snaps her thighs shut tightly and gasps, “W-what-“

“Shhh flower,” Harry kisses her knee and then gently hooks both her legs over either of his shoulders so she can’t close her thighs to hide away from him, “Daddy’s gonna take the ache away okay? Know you’ve been feeling all needy for daddy. Gonna do something that’ll help and put you right to sleep m’kay?”

Y/N swallows harshly and fists the fabric of the blanket beneath her. Her heart was racing and her belly was swirling with need and desire as she waited for Harry to do something.

He kissed the inside of her thighs, “You trust me?” He asked, waiting for her approval, “Because I’ll stop as soon as you say so, promise y’ that.” 

“Yes, daddy.” She said because she did trust him, wholeheartedly, “I trust you.”

“That’s m’ girl.” Y/N waited until she felt his warm breath blow over her pussy. His mouth pressed another kiss to her before she felt his tongue swipe across her slit. Y/N gasped at the unfamiliarity of it as he flicked his tongue softly over her to get her accustomed to it. His eyes looked up to see Y/N’s reaction at the first touch of his mouth. He smirked to himself as her breasts heaved cutely and her cheeks were flushed pink. 

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“S not my name flower.” He murmured against her. 

She tried to close her thighs but Harry’s head lay buried between them, licking and stroking his tongue against her. He wrapped both his tattooed hands around her thighs to keep them open, pressing his fingertips into her plushy skin. “Daddy,” she whined.

He licks up her wet cunt once more until he finds her clit. Y/N jolts at the sudden attention to her sensitive bundle of nerves. His lips pucker against her tiny, pink clit glistening with arousal, a whimper eliciting from Y/N’s lip. He moves his tongue in circles around it before gently sucking on the small bud.

Y/N’s a writhing, whimpering mess beneath him as he licks and sucks on her clit, her wetness coating his chin. She bucks her hips against his mouth and quickly removes one hand from the bed to weave into his hair. Harry groans as she tugs on his curls, his cock leaking precum in his trousers, the vibrations going straight to Y/N’s clit. 

“Daddy, f-feels so good,” She mewls, continuing to tug on his hair. Harry ruts his hips against the mattress, in hopes he could get some relief as he continues his assault on her pussy. 

“Y' so fucking sexy Y/N.” He grumbled, unable to stop his attention from her weeping, little cunt.

Her thighs began to tremble as she felt the coil tighten in her belly. Harry’s hand removed itself from her thigh and slid up the bed to reach for her hand that wasn’t already in his hair. He intertwined their fingers as if comforting her without saying anything. 

He paused his assault on her clit, Y/N whimpering at the sudden loss. Instead, he flattened his tongue against her once more before dipping his tongue into her hole a little as if testing the waters to see whether she’d like it. Y/N’s back arched and Harry’s hand left hers to place itself flat against her tummy to hold her still, the cool metal of his rings made her shiver as they touched her skin. His tongue delved in and out of her, using his other hand to rub circles on her clit with his thumb.

Y/N’s mouth fell open, her head fell back and her legs turned to jelly. “Y close angel girl?” Harry murmured, peeking up at her to see her blissfully zoned out from his touch. 

“Feels s’ good daddy, s-so so so good,” She babbled her head lolling from side to side. 

“Wanna cum baby? Wanna make a mess on daddy?” He urged her, feeling her core clench. 

She jerkily nodded, “Mhmmm,” She hummed. 

“Lemme have it, baby, daddy worked so hard, lemme taste y’ cum.” He hastened his movements on her clit and continued to lick and suck at her pussy, “Cum f’ me baby.” He coaxed. "Can't wait to feel y' round my cock someday, practically begging to feel y' tight, little hole. 'm gonna be the first and only one to fill y' up, isn't that right? Gonna let daddy stretch you out and fill y' up. You're all mine, 'm favourite flower."

His filthy words set Y/N alight. She felt the coil snap as pleasure rushed through her entire body and filled all of her senses. Harry groaned, continuing to press himself up against the bed until he felt his own orgasm building too, his lips staying on Y/N as she came. He lapped up her juices, riding her through her orgasm and tasting all she had to offer for the first time. “That’s my girl baby, so good.” He cooed. 

Harry’s eyes rolled back as his cock released inside of his boxers, his head falling to the side and resting on the inside of her thigh as he breathed heavily, “Fuck,” He groaned, eyes rolling to the ceiling. 

The room was quiet other than the sounds of them trying to catch their breath. Harry kissed the inside of Y/N’s thigh and worked his way up her body, placing soft, spongy kisses on her bare skin until he was face-to-face with her. 

Harry grinned lazily, his eyes tired as he brushed the hair off her face. His heart stuttered; he felt himself losing his breath all over again despite having just come down from the high of his release as he looked down at his girlfriend. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin was glowing from the afterglow, tendrils of baby hairs framed her face and her eyes were hazy and soft as she looked into his own. 

“Thank you daddy,” She whispered to him. 

Harry pressed a kiss to her lips. Her legs hooked around his waist as he circled his arms around her to pull her in tighter, “You okay? Was that good? Not too much?” He wanted to make sure she was okay before anything else. He’d hate himself if he did something she didn’t like or didn’t want to do. 

“M okay,” She smiled, her voice tired. He kissed her once more knowing she could probably taste herself on his lips. “It felt good.” 

“Y’ made me cum,” He admits, feeling the discomfort of his own release in his boxers. 

“I did?” Y/N’s eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. 

“Yeah, flower. That was so fucking sexy.” Y/N whined and tried to hide herself behind her hands. Harry chuckled at her reaction, grabbing her wrists to move her hand away and kissing her forehead before lifting himself from her. “Let’s get y’cleaned up.” 

Harry walked over to Y/N’s dresser to grab himself some clean boxers from the drawer he had curated from the nights he had spent with her. He also grabbed her some clean underwear and one of his shirts to wear to bed. 

In the bathroom, he got himself cleaned up and grabbed a cloth dampening it under the running water in the sink for his love who was waiting for him in bed. Harry paused at the door when he entered her room after he was met with a sight he longed to treasure in his mind forever. Y/N was lying completely bare on her bed. Her eyes were shut, her chest moving up and down and her hair was sprawled out around her. He didn’t know how he got so lucky with her, she was a living angel.

“C’mere flower,” He murmured, spreading her legs apart slightly and trying not to react to the sticky, glistening mess between her thighs. He placed the dampened cloth against her and calmed her down as she jolted beneath his touch from how sensitive she was. 

Once they were all cleaned up, Harry climbed under the blankets with Y/N half asleep against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and ran a finger up and down the length of her spine beneath her shirt.  "Sleep now, flower," he whispered his voice a gentle caress in the quiet of the night. The warmth of his presence soothed Y/N to fall asleep. 

In the hazy blur of her consciousness, she murmured, words slipping from her lips without thought. "Love you," she breathed, the three words escaping her lips as effortlessly as a sigh, yet she remained unaware of what they meant. 

Harry stilled, his breath catching in his throat, “W-what?” But Y/N didn’t reply, instead, soft snores left her lips as she fell asleep beside him. 

. . .

It was the Friday after Harry had taken Y/N to the beach. Fridays were always busy at the tattoo shop so Harry was working away until the late hours of the evening. Y/N sat on a chair, her legs swinging backwards and forward as she played a game on Harry's phone. The sound of the tattoo gun hummed in the air whilst a bossa nova played over the Bluetooth speaker. Harry was still working despite the fact it was nearly time for Y/N to go to bed (She had a strict regime before bed which gave her exactly eight hours of sleep each night). He had promised her this would be his last customer as she waltzed into his tattoo shop, ready to go to his apartment together.

Harry hadn't mentioned to Y/N what she had unknowingly said in her sleep. When they woke up the next morning, he gently broached the subject, asking, "Hey, do you remember anything you said last night while you were asleep?"

Y/N, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, just shrugged in response. "Not really," she mumbled, her voice heavy with drowsiness. "Did I say something strange?"

"No, not at all," Harry assured her, though inwardly, he couldn't shake off the weight of her words. "Just thought you might've had a dream or something." But even as he spoke, he couldn't shake off the lingering memory of her whispered confession, playing over and over in his mind like a sweet melody. 

"Y' holding up okay there m'love?" Harry checked in, working on the final few finishing touches of the tattoo he had been working on.

"Mhm," She smiled but Harry could tell she was getting sleepy from the way he'd caught her eyes fluttering shut when he glanced over at her.

"Can go sleep on the couch out front if you're feeling sleepy." He offered, wanting to make sure his girl was okay before he finished off the tattoo for his customer. He knew first-hand how grouchy she got when she didn't get her sleep.

"M okay here Harry," She insisted, thinking she was lying to him well enough over how tired she was. "Can I watch?" She strained her neck to get a better look at what Harry was doing.

"Course flower, c'mere," Harry pushed his chair forward to give Y/N space to stand behind him so she could watch over his shoulder. He pushed down on the peddle and continued the tattoo as Y/N watched over him.

"Does it hurt?" She wondered, watching the needle press ink into the customer's skin.

"Jus' a little sting but when you've had so many it's not so bad," Harry replied.

Y/N watched in fascination. She was not only impressed by the design Harry had drawn out and tattooed to the customer so effortlessly but also how brave people must be to have such a permanent mark on their skin. She tilted her head to the side, "I want one," She mumbled.

Harry paused, "What?"

"Nothing," She replied, quickly.

Harry had heard what she said but decided he'd bring it up when there wasn't another person in the room, knowing how shy she got around people she didn't know.

After completing the tattoo, he wrapped it up and chatted with the customer for a little bit. Meanwhile, Y/N browsed through his tattoo design sketchbook with a furrowed brow. Once the conversation was done, he shut the door behind the customer and turned the sign to 'closed.'

He walked over to his seemingly overthinking flower and kissed the top of her head, "Wha's wrong m'love?" He smiled softly, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her into his chest.

"Jus' looking H," She tilted her head back to look up at him, kissing his chin in the process.

"Didn't know we were telling fibs tonight flower," He teased, spinning her around in his embrace.

"M not lying," She hid her face in his chest because he always knew when she was lying and she was most definitely lying.

"Can you look up f'me baby just f' a sec," He murmured and looked down to see the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen, round and sparkling under the blue lights of his shop. "Woah," He whispered to himself.

"What's wrong?" A crease appeared in between her brows.

"Nothin' just...you're so pretty," She whined, nuzzling her face into his neck to hide her very red face. Even though it was hard to tell under the blue lights, he knew she was blushing. "Hey, no, can I have a kiss please?" He cupped the back of her head and pulled her away from the comfortable spot in his neck.

Y/N stood on her toes to kiss him, tasting the tinge of eucalyptus lip balm she had given him when he had complained of having sore lips from kissing her too much in the colder weather. "So y' want a tattoo?" He murmured against her lips.

Y/N pulled away, "I-I was just thinking but-"

"You're not sure?" She nods. "Don't have to get a tattoo today m'love, especially if you're not sure." Harry comforted her, seeing the uncertainty on her face. He kissed the crease between her eyebrows but her eyes were fixed on a tattoo on his upper arm.

"Where'd you get that?" She asked, her fingers skimming over the small design. It was a fine line drawing of a pair of angel wings with a flower in the centre between each wing. Harry had designed it not long after meeting Y/N and had only tattooed the design onto himself a few days ago.

"Jus' a little something I drew 's all." He shrugged, "Reminded me of you."

Y/N's lips parted like she couldn't believe what he had just said, "For me?"

He nods, "Wanted to have you somewhere on me at all times."

Y/N goes quiet and Harry gives her the time to think as he packs away his things to head upstairs. By the time he's finished, Y/N's tugging on his sleeve and looking up at him with rounded eyes, "I think I'd like a tattoo, Harry."

Harry bit back a smile, "You do?"

"Mhm," She nodded, seeming sure of herself, "But I want you to do it."

"Wouldn't let anyone else do it anyways flower." He pulled out the kit he had just put away, not feeling annoyed in the slightest because he loved this girl and would set up his equipment all over again even if she decided she no longer wanted the tattoo anymore.

Y/N shimmied up onto the chair and glanced over at him, "What are you wanting on you baby?" He asked.

"I want the same one as you please Harry," She says, referring to the tattoo of the angel wings.

He smiles, "Wanna match with me, sweet girl?" He kisses her lips quickly.

Y/N nods, beaming up at him, "Yes please."

"So polite," He taps her cheek before going to his worktop and drawing out a stencil with a careful hand.  Y/N sat in the chair with her feet hovering above the ground. She was fiddling with her fingers in her lap as she glanced around at the designs she had admired many times before when she'd sit and wait for Harry whilst he worked.

"M'kay lovie, where'd you want it?" Harry asked.

"Oh," She pursed her lips, "I didn't think that far."

"Didn't think that far?" Harry chortled, "How about on your arm?” He squeezed her arm softly above the crease of her elbow, "Won't hurt too bad if we do it here."

"Okay Harry," She nodded, trusting him implicitly. Harry wanted to smother her in kisses with the way she was looking at him like she would do anything he said without even questioning it.

Harry prepped everything, making sure he had all he needed to start the tattoo. He went a little slower than he normally would, wanting to give her enough time to make sure she was certain about getting the tattoo. He mixed up the ink and switched on the tattoo gun as Y/N lay back against the leather chair.

"Y' okay flower?" Harry checked again, expecting to get the same answer he had already gotten only for her to chew on her lip and scrunch up the fabric of the skirt she was wearing.

"M a little nervous," She admitted, blushing.

"Hey it's okay to be nervous," He cooed, dropping the equipment and rolling over to her on his chair. He leaned against the seat she was lying in so his face was up close to hers, he brushed a few strands of hair from her face and the feeling of his hands calmed the nerves Y/N was feeling. "It'll hurt a little bit. Some people say it feels like a little like a tiny scratch but you get used to the feeling."

"But what if you start and then I don't want it anymore because it hurts?" She realises she should have asked these questions before they had gotten this far.

"Tha's why you need to be sure you want it sweet girl. Don't wanna see you in pain either but it's a small tattoo so won't take long and it's on your arm which means it hurts a little bit less." Harry explained.

"Okay," She nodded, "B-but can you distract me a little? It'll help if you distract me."

Harry smiled, kissing her lips, "Can distract you any way you want, baby. Here," He removed the dog tag necklace he wore all the time without failure and handed it to her, "Can fiddle with this while I draw on you."

Y/N felt her shoulders relax a little as she felt the cool metal in her hands, "Okay Harry." His lips pressed against her forehead, "Okay Y/N." He grinned.

Harry pulled on some gloves and got the tattoo gun running. Y/N went stiff as the humming sound filled the room but she reminded herself of Harry's words and continued to play with his necklace. "Okay, ready baby?" He gave her one last kiss for comfort and then, when she nodded her head, the needle made contact with her skin.

She gasped as the tiny needle pricked at her skin. It wasn't as painful as she thought it was going to be but it wasn't comfortable either. She tried to relax but her muscles were all tensed up.

Harry tried to comfort her as best as she could. Whispering words of encouragement, "So good baby, y' so brave." He'd say and tell her it would be over in a moment even though a moment felt like an eternity in her mind.

"Is it over yet?" She was starting to feel the discomfort and was already waiting for it to finish.

"Almost angel," He cooed and finished up the final lines of the drawing. "There we go, all finished."

Y/N let out a long breath she didn't know she was holding and immediately her eyes flickered down to the tattoo Harry had drawn on her. She was in awe of how beautiful and intricate the design was and how quickly Harry had managed to draw it so perfectly. It was a perfect size on her arm, the angel wings matched exactly the same as the ones Harry had done on himself. She almost squealed with how happy she was with her first ever tattoo and how it was a permanent reminder of her sweet and loving boyfriend.

Harry grinned as he watched her face light up when she saw the tattoo, "'Y like it?" He asked, preparing the cream and wrap to put on it before she did something that would get it infected - they both knew she would do that if he wasn't careful.

"I love it, Harry!" She grinned, her smile lighting up the whole room.

Harry laughed at her happiness, "You're welcome baby." He applied the cream and wrapped it up before she could move anywhere. Instead of leaping out of the chair, she wrapped her arms around Harry and pressed her lips to his. He hummed, "Best tip I've ever gotten." He murmured.

"I kinda want another one," She couldn't stop looking down at her tattoo and taking in how pretty it was.

"Woah, slow down there flower, think you should wait a while until the next one." He repressed a smile. "But I'll happily draw up another one f'you."

"Okay Harry," She said, not really paying much attention to him.

"Alright c'mon, le's go upstairs. Wanna kiss you in bed if tha's okay." He quickly put all of his equipment away as Y/N gawked at her tattoo.

"I think I'd love that more than the tattoo," She sighed. Harry decided not to pull her up on the fact she was probably telling another fib. 

. . .

"Y/N is that a tattoo!" One of her friends, Shakira, spoke out.

It had been two weeks since Y/N had gotten her first tattoo and she still wasn't over how pretty it was. Every morning she'd wake up and look at her arm and tell Harry how good of a job he did.

"No wonder you're a tattoo artist Harry!" She'd say, to which he'd just smile and sit patiently as she rambled about how much she loved her tattoo and how she wanted him to draw her another one.

"Oh yes!" Y/N rolled up the sleeve of her pyjama shirt so her friends could get a better look, "Harry did it. Isn't it pretty?" She sighed, thinking of her boyfriend who she hadn't seen since this morning.

Y/N had planned a slumber party at her place a few weeks ago since she hadn't seen her two friends, Shakira and Layla, in forever. She'd known them since high school and were the only two friends she really had other than Harry who was also her best friend. 

Harry had promised he'd stay away and give her some much needed girly time. Although Y/N didn't like the idea of being away from Harry, she knew it was needed. He had some things he needed to do anyway and she wanted to give him space to do that too.

"Do you think he could do one for me?" Layla asked, her arm already littered with small tattoos.

"I can ask him for you if you'd like," Y/N offered, receiving a nod from Layla.

"What's it like being in a relationship?" Shakira asked, "I mean Harry seems the complete opposite of you, I'd never have pictured you together."

Y/N smiles, thinking back to their first interaction and how intimidated she was by him. Now she couldn't get enough of him, wanting to be with him and touch him whenever she could. "I know but Harry's... I don't know, he's not like how people assume. He's kind, caring and lovable. We have a lot more in common than most people think and even the things we don't have in common, Harry always listens to the things I have to say even when he doesn't completely understand."

"Awwww!" Y/N blushed when she realised she had been rambling too much again.

"You're so cute Y/N," Layla grinned. "And we're so happy for you. Harry seems like a great guy."

"He is," Y/N agreed, shyly.

"Have you said I love you yet?" Shakira smirked.

Y/N's smile faltered, "N-not yet..." She looked away from their gazes, "But I think I'm just waiting for the right time. Harry always has these moments where I think he's going to say it but he never does and part of me thinks he's still questioning it." Y/N admits.

Layla offers her a sympathetic gaze, "I'm sure he's just waiting for the perfect moment to tell you Y/N. Saying I love you can be a pretty big deal for some people."

"I know," Y/N nods in agreement, "And I'll wait for him, however long it takes."

Y/N spent the remainder of the evening gossiping and watching movies with her two best friends. Now and then, she would look down at her phone just in case Harry had sent her anything but nothing appeared other than a blank screen. She couldn't help but feel a little bit deflated that he hadn't checked in on her like he usually would but she quickly pushed the feeling away. Harry had other things he was doing, she'd see him later.

"Thank you for having us Y/N! It was so good to see you, we need to do it again sometime," Y/N stood at the door to say goodbye to her friends. It was nearing midnight and she wondered if Harry was in his apartment waiting for her.

"Thank you for coming! I missed you guys," Y/N chirped, she really did miss having her girlfriends around. She was so busy with work and spending time with Harry, that she rarely had time outside of those things. But after today, she was going to make it a priority to see her friends again.

"See you later Y/N!" Her friends waved as they walked down the steps from her apartment. Y/N smiled and waved until they were out of sight. She planned on calling Harry to check in on him and see if he was alright but a crash from his apartment halted her steps.

She paused, stilling herself so she could hear a little better. Another thud came from his apartment followed by a string of curses and something that sounded like a clutter of things falling on the floor.

"Harry?" Y/N called through the door but received no response. "Harry, are you okay? It's me, it's Y/N."

"Y/N," Harry's voice murmured through the door. Y/N relaxed a little at the sound of his voice but she was still worried about him. It wasn't normal for him to keep his distance from her like this.

"Harry, are you okay?" She rested her hand on the doorknob, preparing to open it so she could see him with her own eyes.

"I-I'm fine baby. Go t' sleep m'love. I'll be there in a little while," Y/N frowned when she heard him wheezing a little as he breathed between words. He spoke much too slowly compared to his usual drawl as though it was too much work for him to speak.

"Harry please, jus' wanna see you." She tries again, hoping he'll open the door.

"Promise I'll be there t' give you your kisses baby but I jus' need... a moment," Y/N's face fell.

"H-Harry you're scaring me," She said, quietly.

Harry was on the other side of the door, clutching onto his side. He was already hurting but hearing his angel begging to come in was killing him. He couldn't leave her out there. She looked the perfect remedy to his currently aching body when he looked through the peephole of his door and saw her already in her pyjamas, looking all snuggly and cute.

"Not tryin' t' scare you, dove. Please I'll be out in a minute." He hoped she would listen like she normally would. He needed enough time to clean up as best as he could so he could return to her- looking like the Harry she knew- but she wasn't having it, reminding him of just how stubborn she could be when she wanted to. 

"Harry, I-I'm gonna open the d-door. I have to see if you're okay," She spoke, clearly and carefully.

Harry looked down as the doorknob twisted. He wanted to twist the key and lock it to keep her out but he lost control of his own mind as he stepped back and allowed her to push the front door open.

He stood under the dim light of his living room. He had been meaning to get the lightbulb fixed but he'd been spending too much time at Y/N's apartment to remember.

Her eyes went from his feet all the way up to meet his face. Her lips parted and her eyes started to water, his heart ached at the sight. "No baby," He stepped forward, pulling her into him and holding her to his chest even though it ached to do so.

"H-Harry," She whispered, her voice cracking, "What happened?"

She pulled back and cupped one of his cheeks in her small hand. Harry's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, he could have sworn every ounce of pain lifted from her touch alone. "Was out with a friend, you know, the one who deals," He explained, referring to Mike who Y/N had met. He didn't want to hide from her and she already knew he smoked weed regularly so it was no surprise to her when he told her he'd been smoking, "We pulled over so he could drop something off but I guess the customer got a little aggressive. He was probably on something but he was refusing to pay I think Mike said. I was in the car and all I saw was this guy trying to swing at him. I ran out to help him and we managed to get away before he had the chance to do anything worse but he obviously managed to get a good few hits in before."

Harry hadn’t remembered the last time he had gotten into a fight other than when he was a teenager just after his parents got divorced. He had managed to get a few punches in, making his knuckles all red and cut up, but he'd also been the victim of a few hits too. He had a black eye, a busted lip and a pounding headache from the impact of the punch he had received.

"Harry," Y/N choked on a sob, "Y-you could have been seriously h-hurt,"

"I know baby, I know." He cradled her head in his arms as she wrapped her arms around him, not squeezing too tight because she knew he was in pain. "But 'm here now."

Her eyes were red-rimmed as she looked at him, "You were helping Mike?" She asked.

"'s all I was doing baby, promise." He hated how worried she looked so he was willing to do anything to comfort her until she knew he was okay.

She pulled away, "W-where are you hurting?" She looks down as if checking him for any more bruising. He could see her visibly starting to panic, her hands shaking and her chest moving up and down rapidly.

"Hey, c'mere, c'mon now." He picked her up and brought her over to the couch, "M okay sweet girl, nothing to worry about anymore. Calm down f' me, please. Hate seeing you in a panic." He uttered to her, rocking her back and forth with her face buried in his neck. 

"You're all b-bruised," She whimpered, "Y-you must be in so much pain."

"Not anymore my love. Hmmm, my flower is here, takin' all m' pain away aren't you dove?" He kissed her shoulder.

"C-can I help you?" She whispered, eyes blotchy and red from crying a little.

"Wanna patch up m' bruises love?" She nods as if there was nothing else she'd rather do than be there for him. "Alright, le's go to the bathroom and y' can help me." He carried her to the bathroom and placed her on the counter near the sink. He grabbed a first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink and handed it to her. "Didn't know m' girlfriend was a little nurse." He smirked, a blush covering her cheeks.

Harry stood between her legs with his hands on the counter on either side of her. He watched her as she cleaned the cuts and treated the bruise covering his eye. He smiled when the tip of her tongue stuck out between her lips, "Be careful, I'll bite that tongue." He teased.

Y/N squeaked hiding her tongue away, but quickly composed herself, "You're not getting anywhere near my tongue mister." She sasses and Harry grins so wide, his cheeks hurt.

"No? You don't think I deserve a kiss baby? M in so much pain." He hides his face in her neck and presses spongy kisses on her soft skin.

Y/N giggles at the ticklish sensation, trying to push him away, "No, you can't, not until I patch you up and you stop getting into fights."

"Actin' like I get into fights every other weekend baby," He smirks, "Only f' you."

Her mouth opens and closes as she tries to figure out what to say in such a flustered state from his words. He takes the opportunity to kiss her, their lips pressing together under the low light of the bathroom. He hadn't seen her since this morning and had been missing her all day but knew she needed some time with her girlfriends without him smothering her. It didn't stop him from glancing at his phone now and then to see if she'd called him, just like she had done.

The small time they spent away from each other during the day made him all the more desperate to kiss her. He cradled both her cheeks in his hand, brushing his thumb over her cheekbones. She wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the baby strands of hair on the nape of his neck. "Missed you," She murmured when their lips parted.

"Missed y' too flower." He hummed, "Don't know what's wrong w' me to want you this bad." His hands travelled down her arms, his fingers brushing over her tattoo as he slid past it before he intertwined their fingers together. “Think m just a teeny bit in love with y’ to be honest.” He confessed. 

And suddenly they were both existing outside of their own bodies.

"W-what?" Y/N's eyes glazed over.

“Oh shit.” Harry cusses, squeezing his eyes shut, his face scrunching in frustration, “Wasn’t meant to be this way flower.” 

“Y-you love me?” Her bottom lip quivered, her brain not quite believing what she was hearing. 

Harry's heart was racing as he looked her in the eyes, "I love you." The words left his mouth and had never felt so right or so freeing. He couldn't understand why now of all moments was the time to finally say it but a piece of himself felt whole and all the pain from his body had left as he told her the three words that had been trapped in his throat for so long.

Y/N's mind whirred as she processed Harry's words. The air seemed to thicken around them, and for a moment, time hung suspended. She searched his eyes for any sign of hesitation, but all she found was sincerity and vulnerability. "You do?" She whimpered.

"Oh no flower, don't cry. Hate seeing tears in those pretty eyes," He began to wipe them away as soon as they fell from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," She blubbered, "I never imagined... I never imagined someone could feel this way about me," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Never thought I'd be in love either but here we are," He chuckled, "Love you so much, m'favourite flower." He rubbed their noses together.

Y/N's pouty lips sprouted into a beautiful smile, "I love you too Harry, more than anyone in the whole world."

"Y’ already told me that once before." He smiled, a mixture of adoration and a touch of amusement dancing in his eyes. 

“I did?” She frowned. 

“Mhm,” Harry nodded, “Before you fell asleep, you mumbled it and told me you loved me and when you woke up y’ didn’t remember.” 

“Really?” She couldn’t help but feel embarrassed knowing she admitted something so big in her sleep.

“Honestly,” Harry told her, “Think y’ were probably dreaming or something.”

“Is this a dream? Feels like it,” Y/N whispers. 

“S most certainly not a dream m’love.” Harry kissed her quickly, “Gonna love you forever I think.” 

She leant forward, running her fingers through his hair as his head fell back. He hummed at the feeling, biting on his lip to stop himself from smiling so much before burying his face in the crook of her neck - in the place he loved so much. "Promise." He whispered, lips ghosting her skin.

Their fingers traced lazy patterns on each other's skin, a silent communication between them. The room was filled with the hushed whispers of their love, as if time had slowed down so they could savour the sweetness of this very moment.

Y/N yawned which made the corner of Harry's lips turn upwards, "Y' done fixing me up now? Wanna go t' bed love?" She nodded, wrapping herself around him. He reminded himself to clean away the first aid kit in the morning, his priority was getting his girl some much-needed sleep.

She curled into him when they lay in his small bed, her head resting on his chest right where her heart was. She played with his hair and he ran a hand up and down her bare back underneath her pyjama shirt, "I love you," She murmured into the quiet.

He hoped she could hear his heart beat a little faster at her words, "I love you s' much, flower. With everything in me, gonna be mine forever y'are." He mumbled the words into her ear. 

Harry cupped the side of her face as her tired, glossy eyes looked at him with so much love and adoration, that he didn’t know what to do with it all. In the dimly lit room, they leaned in close, their breath mingling as their lips met in a gentle, passionate kiss. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, while hers tangled in his hair. They explored each other's mouths, lost in the heat of the moment, their bodies pressed together. Each kiss was filled with longing and desire, igniting a fire between them that burned brighter with every touch.

“I’ve never loved anyone before,” Y/N whispered to him. 

“Really?” Harry smiled. 

“You’re my first love.” Y/N has to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling so wildly but Harry tugs her lip with his thumb and suddenly her smile is so wide her cheeks turn pink.

“You’re my first and only love.” He murmured. 

She liked that and she loved him. 

This was exactly where they were both meant to be —with the person who had become not only their first love but their forever love too. 

A flower tattooed to his heart.

[love-toxin]

Godslayer -> Phainon

(cws: yan!phainon and probably ooc, gn!darling, very elaborate kidnapping, amphoreus story spoilers, brief mild violence, brainwashing, phainon's a lowkey perv, guilt tripping, gaslighting/manipulation, mild nudity) word count: 4.3k a/n: @yandere-romanticaa ding ding! i'm ringing the dinner bell darling <3 (also yes i wrote this specifically bc of u teehee)

“Then it's settled,” Aglaea declared with a disarming smile on her cold lips. “The Trailblazer will remain here as collateral, while you two head back to the stars.” 

Caelus and Dan Heng both looked between themselves, and then back at you uneasily. Not even your own smile could quench their anxieties, but this was a necessary evil that you were willing to lay yourself at the mercy of. 

The demigod leader of Amphoreus didn't trust you nor your fellow Trailblazers, at least not enough to keep your secrets of the worlds beyond the stars to yourselves after your companion's little incident. They needed to return–Caelus for the Stellaron that he housed inside him, and Dan Heng for his lineage, his knowledge and experiences the Astral Express crew needed to continue their venture. But you?

You were an old dog by this point. Too many adventures had left you tired and lagging behind the younger ones, and there was no feat you could perform in battle that the others couldn't achieve ten times over. Your wisdom couldn't touch that of Himeko or Welt, and you couldn't even carry the mood like Pom-Pom or March 7th. After your journey to Penacony, the crew even had the Memokeeper and Sunday to add to their ranks, and the cars were getting busy nowadays. The truth was there even if they didn't want to admit it.

Nobody needed you. They had all grown up and branched out, and your tending wasn't a necessity anymore. And more importantly, Aglaea demanded a peace offering to ensure that the Astral Express would keep the existence of Amphoreus to themselves. Though both boys offered themselves up like lambs, you knew better than either of them that they weren't destined for the slaughter quite yet. 

You ushered them away, kept the goodbyes brief; Caelus took one last photo of you for March, and Dan Heng pulled you into an unexpected hug, to whisper a promise that they would come back for you in your ear. You patted his arm, knowing he shouldn't be deterred lest he be forced to show his real emotions about your departure, and simply reassured him that there was no need to rush. You would be well taken care of, even if at the back of your mind you knew it was in captivity. As the two young men took their leave and watched you disappear as they hurtled back into the sky in their car, the urge to spread your wings and follow them welled up inside you–but it was swiftly and staunchly quelled as you were led to your quarters, where you would while away an unfathomable string of days with a new, hollow world ahead of you. 

Although you didn't know him well, you grew to like Phainon as you adjusted to your new home. 

The white-haired boy was seemingly on the younger side, though he held a calm serenity about him that spoke to years of hard-fought battles. He didn't come to visit often, only on rare occasions, but he brought gifts when he was able and he was a welcome source of companionship, even on days where he was more quiet than friendly. Aglaea's warnings about you ensured that the people of Okhem kept their distance, which was useful to keep your vow, but dreadfully lonely. When Phainon arrived, he would tote along all manner of things to entertain you: a jug of wine, a puzzle box, bits of seaglass to decorate your balcony, bread, salt, things you neither needed nor asked for but he brought nonetheless. He once brought you a kiss on the cheek but you both refrained from speaking about it since–with you hoping it was merely a cultural oddity–and sometimes, he would bring you a little carafe of oil and leave it in some conspicuous place for you to find. 

Why a man as handsome as he was–and a hero no less–would seek refuge with you was…uncanny. Strange. It wasn't as if Phainon had eyes for you and nobody else, in fact he often barely looked at you at all, even when he came knocking on your door. But he was steadily encroaching on what little space you had for yourself, and despite finding it unnerving, you never asked him to stop to his face. You didn't even tell Aglaea about his visits at all, though you were sure she must know. 

It was the day he visited you in your quarters and asked outright if you needed more oil that things finally came to a breaking point. You asked him, point blank, what he intended you to use it for. And his answer was as blunt as you expected it to be.

“For you.” His blue eyes caught the light and shimmered, much like the shallow water of your bath where he was lounging while his clothes hung on the chaise nearby. Most citizens of Amphoreus were free-spirited enough to attend the public baths nude, but to have a man you barely knew strip himself down in your chambers was something else entirely. He did so on rare occasions, yet he still never acknowledged it nor your reluctance to join him. 

The quiet, peppered only by the soft splashes of water feeding into the bath from the miniature fountain, hung like a heavy pendulum that could barely swing. Phainon's crystalline eyes bored into you for once as you lounged stiffly in the chaise beside his belongings, and you felt a distinct shift take over the air. 

“Your friends won't be coming back.” He murmured. He slowly stood from the bench while the water cascaded down his rippling musculature, your gaze averted in an instant despite him making no move to cover himself. He had no reason to be ashamed, but even as he took slow steps towards you–drip, drip, dripping on the marble floor–you steeled your nerves and avoided peeking even out of pure curiosity. Especially because, due to his brazen nature as of late, it seemed as though he wanted you to look. “They will never be allowed to approach Amphoreus again.” 

He didn't need to tell you that for you to understand the reality. You weren't an evergreen adventurer; you were a Trailblazer, a seasoned veteran of the stars, and with the freedom of your exploration you knew fully well the consequences could be as dire as the pain of death. Finally turning your head towards him, you locked eyes with those endlessly blue ones and got to your feet to match him. 

“The Astral Express never abandons its crew. They may venture on, and Amphoreus may crumble while they're away,” A light flickered to life in your eyes that he could see, and his breath hitched despite him being the one that was so bold. “But they'll come back to find me. They always do.” 

“Aglaea's pact stands.” He rebutted, his brow furrowing. “They won't be allowed entry. Even if I have to intercept them myself, I will, under her order.” 

“They don't need your permission.” You answered in kind, reached down to the chair beside you, and threw his clothes carelessly at his chest. “Get dressed, and get out.” 

“Kick me out, and I won't be back again.” Now his teeth made an appearance, glaring scornfully at you in a manner much more akin to a villain than the hero he proclaimed he was. “See how long you last alone. I was doing you a kindness.” 

“Do me a greater one and leave. Your presence alone pisses me off.” 

His breath caught in his throat at your insult, but his anger evaporated as if it were a ploy all along. Phainon suddenly looked frightened, anxious, as if he was hoping his bluff would sow enough doubt in your mind for you to plead with him to stay. Now, he seemed altogether out of place, shifting weight from foot to foot while you made your way out to the balcony and took in a breath of fresh air. 

After several minutes of fabric shifting and the clicking of buckles and buttons, your door creaked open and shut as you were finally left on your own. The polished stone cooled your arms as you leaned against the railing, and peered out over the lively streets of Okhem with a longing ache for home. 

Despite the confrontation during your last meeting, it didn't take very long for Phainon to come knocking on your door again–less than a week had passed since you threw him out. After a few days of him trying to gain entry to your dwelling and being turned away, he started bringing gifts again. Every time you refused them he left them sitting by the door, a pile steadily growing over the days and weeks that followed. 

Aglaea questioned them only once when she came by for a rare visit, but your mild answer at the time seemed not to satisfy her. Even so, she only glanced at the stacks of wilting flowers and jugs of stale wine briefly before attending to the business she had with you. 

About a month had passed since your interaction when you came home to your quarters, fresh off a walk supervised by two guards as per usual, and found Phainon waiting for you on your balcony. He was fully dressed this time, thank the aeons, but the kicked puppy-dog look on his face immediately soured your mood. He held not a flower nor a loaf of freshly baked bread in his hands, but a book. One you hadn't seen in a long time. 

Despite your better judgement you approached the people's hero, and he held out the leather-bound bundle of pages and letters for you to gingerly take from his hands. 

“I found this at the crash site, where you and your comrades first landed.” There was no need to flip through it, you were already readily familiar with this precious treasure. It was your diary, stuffed full of memories from years of trailblazing…it was something you thought you would never see again after losing it in the explosive collision. Your fingers mindlessly traced the etchings in the leather that Welt had spelled out in your name, while the slightly askew binding was the work of March and Dan Heng's dogged collaboration. The pages had been scented with flower oils from Himeko's prized collection and stamped with Pom-Pom's paw print; it was a gift from the Astral Express for a birthday that had long passed, one that marked so many years of adventuring with the steadily-growing crew. It was a memory of happier times, and aside from the lightest bit of scorching around the edges of the cover it was still intact. 

Phainon cleared his throat, having watched you stare down in deep contemplation at the book. “I take it this is special to you?” 

“Yes,” You answered, finally lifting your head to look at him. “I don't know how you found it, or why, but you have my thanks for returning it to me. This is…very special, indeed.” The sickening, hollow feeling of homesickness set in again as you tenderly laid the diary down on your side table to keep it out of reach of any more danger. 

“Well, I brought it as a token.” Phainon declared, and straightened his posture subtly as he clasped his hands together before him. “You have a duty to assimilate into Amphoreus’ culture, but I imagine it'll be difficult if you cannot confront your past, first. Hence why I went out of my way to retrieve it for you.” 

His words put a bitter taste on the back of your tongue. Confront your past? Something about the way he said it, with such imminent finality, put you ill at ease and drew you to turn and face him with half a scowl already brewing. Phainon seemed to sense it in an instant but only appeared more determined. 

“If you think I'll be throwing this into the fireplace, you're abysmally wrong.”

“I wasn't expecting it to be that dramatic,” He sighed, though your stout rejection put a pout on his lips. “But yes, I do think you should get rid of it once you give it one last read.” 

Here we go again. “I have half a mind to hit you over the head with it. Are all the heroes of this world as arrogant as you?” 

“Let me be very clear with you-” 

“Enough of this.” Cutting him off abruptly was the only way you could imagine saving yourself from more of his drivel. 

“-I'm trying to help you!” But he continued, the prim and calm façade cracking as he grew increasingly irritated with your interruptions. “Don't mistake my kindness as anything else! If you just listen to my proposal-”

“Proposal?” You scoffed. “Tell me you mean something else.” 

“What I meant is what I said.” He growled. “You are, by divine rights, mine. You're just fortunate that I possess some self-restraint, and haven't forced you to accept that against your will.”

“Have you lost your mind?” With a shake of your head, you brushed him off conpletely. “What delusion has possessed you to think that I'm in any way yours?” 

“Because I claimed you!” He finally burst out. “When Aglaea told us you would be exiled, I begged her to allow you safe haven. I promised her that if you were here, that if I could keep you, then I would gain the strength to slay Nikador myself–to slay any god that stands in my way!” Phainon's voice rose to a tremoring bellow, his blue gaze nearly bordering on a scarlet glare as his eyes pierced into your very soul. In that moment he was no man, but a terrifying, hysterical beast that roared so fiercely he left the silence shaking afterwards. 

“You aren't here as collateral damage. Make no mistake–you are here for me to claim, as your husband.” His words resonated off the polished walls, overwhelmed the soft bubbling of the bath and the breeze that blew in from the beautiful, blue sky beyond your balcony. 

Phainon’s outburst left you aghast; had he always been such a selfish and arrogant hero, or were you simply blind to it up until now? “I am no such thing, and I never will be.” You seethed. “Get the fuck out of my room.” 

“Fine.” He took several steps forward and latched on to your wrist, his grip so tight it threatened to break you. “But you're coming with me. I've had enough of this charade–I won't entertain your childish rejection any longer.” 

You yanked your arm from his grasp to stumble backwards, and your eyes flicked towards the door. Phainon took a step before you even worked up the courage to sprint, and when you did, he threw his weight into you to take you off your feet with ease, and flipped you down on to the floor, his hand twisted in your hair and your cheek pressed to the cold marble. 

“...I love you, can't you see that? You're the one I love!” He cried out, his knee digging painfully into the small of your back as you struggled. Clearly he took your attempts at escaping him as an insult, and freshly infuriated, he gripped you harder by the hair and pulled you up to meet your ear with his lips. “I need you. I need you, or nothing else matters. I don't care about the gods anymore-” His teeth grazed your ear and he bit down hard, the blood fueling his hunger with the smallest taste of it on his tongue. “-But I need to become one so I can protect you. My world.” 

“You're…You're out of your mind,” Phainon scoffed at your gasp for air, at the insult that you thought would hurt him, and does. “..Your gods are nothing compared to the aeons. You're just a sheltered little boy, you don't scare me.” -Which was a lie, because he scared you–he scared you a lot. 

“You will change your tune with time.” He muttered back with one last dab of his tongue on your bleeding cut. “I tried to ease you into loving me, but you just can't get over that wretched simple-mindedness of yours. We'll have to work on that before the ceremony.” With one last hard squeeze, he finally dropped your head from his grip and let you slump, pained, to the ground. As he stood, you lashed out and tried to sweep his leg out from under him, but he avoided it with ease and just glared down at your pathetic form. 

A soft knock at your door brought the tension to a halt; you raised your head, hopeful, yearning for whoever was opening your door to see Phainon's cruelty and save you from it. The long, white locks of Castorice, the mortician whom you didn't know very well, floated through as she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. The hope was quick to drain from your spirit as she walked over to Phainon and looked down on you with him, the two of them speaking in hushed whispers with each other without ever sparing you a glance. 

“C-Castorice-” Finally, she turned her icy gaze towards you and stripped away your defenses with nothing but her chilling, near-demonic aura. Your body started growing cold, and Phainon murmured some false reassurance, but you couldn't hear anything but your own heart thumping as the rest of the world froze out of your mind. Eventually, all the connection you shared was the heavy stare Castorice held with you, before she raised a finger and hovered the tip of her nail above your forehead. 

“It will be painless.” She whispered in an echo of a thousand voices. The press of her finger to your skin was unbearably frigid for only a moment–and then, in the silence, your heart ceased its reckless beating in your ears while the world turned cold and black.

“Phainon! Phainon's back! C'mooon, hurry up!”

“Okay, okay!” You laughed as you were dragged along by the gaggle of children at your knees. The kids were high-spirited in the face of any circumstances, it seemed like, but even moreso when their favourite hero was returning from an epic journey. 

Phainon, the white-haired hero of Okhem and beyond, was the subject of many stories and whispers between the people of your city–and for good reason. He was a kind, fair, and loving man who was as friendly as his wit was quick. Even when hanging around Mydeimos, who was a characteristically brutal man with a near-nonexistent sense of humour, Phainon could make light of any situation and see the good in any person he met. 

It was no secret that he was popular with the ladies too, for all those reasons and even more. You could go to any corner of the city and find a man swimming in muscles, you could find confident men and smart men and ones who were as handsome as the gods themselves. But Phainon had every piece of that puzzle and it made him irresistible to just about everyone that met him. And of course, that included you, too.

You had a special connection with Phainon that, despite contradicting your rather simple existence in Okhem, acted as a source of jealousy for the hero's other admirers who hoped to be noticed by the endlessly charismatic (future) godslayer. Before you'd settled into your life in the city, something awful had befallen you that, to this day, you had no memory of. In fact, your memories from before the incident were all bleary and incomprehensible; your first moment of waking up had been spent in agony, your body aching as you'd been caught and wounded in the midst of a skirmish with Nikador's forces. In the fire and chaos that ensued, you were certain you were going to die, frightened and alone. But before you could, a man with snow-white hair had appeared and slayed the enemies pursuing you–and from that day on, it was history. 

Phainon had been your hero when you needed him most, and now, you had a second chance at life because of his bravery. As the kids dragged you to the bathhouse, you stumbled somewhat but still maintained your cheerful demeanour–it was only when you got to the top of the steps that the waterfall parted on its own, and the man himself stepped out like a god emerging from a sacred lake. The kids rushed him, he laughed and humoured their excited questions, but through it all he had his attention focused on you until he could manage to part the youngsters and make his way to where you stood. 

“I missed you,” He grinned, and leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. You'd always thought it was an odd greeting for friends, but once Castorice gently informed you that it was simply the custom of Phainon's people, you accepted it without batting an eye. “I hope the children haven't worn you out while I've been gone.”

“You worry too much.” You returned his smile and patted one of the young ones who hadn't left your side, her eyes wide and sweet as she clung shyly to your leg. Phainon had helped you get a job working with the children of Okhem as their mentor, and as tiring as it could often be, there was no greater sight than seeing the new generation flourish under your care and gentle countenance. Besides, Phainon took so well to the little ones–you had no doubt that fatherhood was one of the many goals he strived for. 

“May I have a moment alone with your teacher, little one?” He knelt down and asked her kindly, his confident yet gentle tone easing her off of you while you directed her to go play with the other children in the baths. Phainon was quick to lead you away from the other admirers fiending for his attention around the entrance to the bathhouse, into a quiet alley where few people would eavesdrop on your conversation. From his sleeve he produced a small, yellow flower, and your cheeks warmed as he delicately pressed it into your palm as a gift. He always brought home little trinkets like this, and you treasured each and every one of them as they granted you a lingering sense of nostalgia. 

“Oh, this is lovely, Phainon.” You sighed with reverence, clutching the flower to your chest. “Thank you. I hope you didn't strain yourself just to get a gift for me, you know you don't have to.”

He shook his head with a chuckle. “It's because I love seeing how happy they make you. I love yow grateful you are for my gifts..” He trailed off and stared deeply into your eyes, a question pressing at his lips. “I have something to ask you, my sweet.” 

“You do?” He nodded. Phainon plucked the flower from your hands and tucked it behind your ear, before taking both your sweaty palms in his and getting down on his knees.

“You see, I…I've been in love with you since the day we met. Since the first moment I watched you stagger out of that ship-” Wait…what? “-I knew you were destined to be mine.” 

“You..?” As tempted as you were to ask what he meant, what ‘ship’ he spoke of, you let him continue. And how fortunate it was, as Phainon took it as a sign that his wooing was in full swing, and beamed up at you with the most glorious joy.

“Yes! Yes, I do. I want only to give you a comfortable life–I want to part the clouds so the sun shines on you always.” With your encouragement he climbed to his feet to meet your gaze. He was friendly, and jubilant, but you'd rarely ever seen him so blindly excited; it was pure and innocent, and as tightly as he clutched your hands and as odd as some of his words were phrased, you couldn't bear to pull away from him during such a crucial moment. 

“I don't…I don't know what to say, I-” Out of nowhere, a cold sense of dread made its way into your heart, and despite your befuddlement as to why it settled there it refused to let up. Your mouth grew drier as you tried to speak, but eventually Phainon helped you. 

“Say yes?” He pleaded with glistening blue eyes, tears threatening to spill against the backdrop of his hopeful smile. “Please?” 

“I-I..” You swallowed the growing anxiety that choked you up, and without words, you nodded. 

“You'll be mine?” He prodded eagerly, and again you mumbled a soft ‘yes’. Phainon leapt to his feet and practically cheered with joy, slinging his arms around you to lift you off your feet and twirl you around. He laughed, and happy tears made their way down his cheeks, before he planted a cool, wet kiss on your mouth that somehow chilled you right down to the bone. 

The guilt, the fear, the unease that grew inside you would all come to a head at some point. But the truth could be so easily twisted, cut up and rearranged to fit the story he wanted to play out. There wasn't any urgency aside from his own impatience, and not a single one of his fellow heroes or the demigods could judge what he did when it propelled him leaps and bounds closer to slaying Nikador. There would come a day when you would uncover his lies, just as surely as the sun would set at dusk and rise in the dawn. 

But what difference did it make? He had so much time to clear your mind to a blank slate, and conjure up a new life for the two of you as many times as it takes.

[searchingforserendipity25]

it's a good thing conclave didn't waste any time on making the stories about catholic orders and their in-fighting. and probably i shouldn't either because i am not informed enough about it to go on at length. pls take all of this w a grain of salt.

but i know in my heart of hearts that aldo bellini is a progressive liberal jesuit, the holy father's specialest most progressive liberal italian-american jesuit.

look at him. look at his glasses. those are the glasses of a man who did his dissertation on reinterpreting loyola through a contemporary reformist lens. academic wunderkid. has sooo much beef w the editors of american jesuit weekly. possibly the events of conclave are occurring in a better more beautiful world where aldo bellini is the editor of american jesuit weekly.

the late holy father for sure was a progressive jesuit also. vr pope francis coded. and low-key set him up as a successor. for a while, that seemed nearly a sure thing in some circles.

but there is the fact. well. the fact that everyone is tired, done and tired of jesuits, progressive or otherwise.

this among other factors meant he couldn't consider him the best option, besides whatever character judgement and uncanny machievallien prediction he came up with.

adeyemi has that benedictine swag which makes his potential election particularly seem like a breath of fresh air + reliable + lots of influence. tremblay is giving dominican drip and dominican corruption. and dominican flop. his nespresso machine? it's giving dominican also.

tedesco has to be an italian-founded order member. most hypocrital salesian of all times maybe?? this is unrelated to the fact that i was nearly enrolled in a salesian primary school and the weirdly panopticon-ish playground didn't pass the vibe check. and also because: consider tedesco rising in the ranks of an order created to help migrant workers...someone kick him in the head for me pls.

who even knows about benítez. i want to say franciscan but that might be just too on the nose. cistercian?? honestly it would work well if he is also without affiliation.

this lens does make lawrence's homily being interpreted as a campaign speech more understandable (and particularly funny).

because, as far as anyone can tell, he's fully running as an independent candidate. zero platform besides - if i fuck up i'll apologize and do better and be held accountable, which is more than any of you probably would.

and because he stands alone, he can be held accountable. he can belong to all, and not one faction only. as far as anyone can tell, he's burning bridges with bellini and rocking the statues quo.

he is speaking to/from a place of frustration with institutional inertia and factionalism, he is using his position as dean to bravely promote a platform for internal change in the curia, he is offering doubt as an alternative to certainty, he is pulling an absolute wildcard move.

pity he didn't mean it.

pity the the only order lawrence is interested in joining is the most hardcore discalced carmelite experience possible.

you know how some people look into luxurious real estate listings like it's porn? that's lawrence w tiny monasteries. the sort of minuscule organization with not enough people for management to be necessary. too small for politics. as close to erasure as you can get in this world: no need to be useful.

serving god by existing only to meditate on him. a narrow slant of a life, at that. barely taking up space, barely casting a shadow.

his favorite is a decrepit wreck of a place in the middle of southern spain, nowhere. no wifi no speaking aloud no possessions. no shoes no food. no nothing, only prayer. and a big big sky overhead.

maybe that will fix his issues with reaching god. if that doesn't work he'll probably just wander into the tabernas desert and become an hermit. works for some people, supposedly; plenty of order founders seem to believe so, anyway.

[satoruxx]

THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.

✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x reader | 3.7k words

✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, bickering, mentions of blood and injuries, survival instincts are non existent, hints at past violence/abuse, toji is an asshole but he's trying !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: ignore that i formatted this part all pretty while part 1 is just an ugly drabble. i just didn't expect to turn this into a series lmao. anyways please read part one before reading this so that it actually makes a lick of sense !! also i added people who asked for part two to the tag list so if you wanna be added/removed just lmk :3

you mutter a quiet curse as you step in a dirty puddle, eyes squinting through the torrents of rain pouring from the dark sky. it's bad enough you got out of work so late, but the heavy storm did nothing to make the journey home easier. you grip your umbrella tighter, even though your clothes have still been dampened by stray droplets, and speed up the pace.

it has not poured like this in your city for quite a few weeks now, and the change in weather would be pleasant if you weren't being hit by it full force—indoors, curled on your couch under a blanket, would be ideal. that's what you plan to do after you get inside, after a warm shower and dinner.

speaking of dinner, you're late for your routine meal drop off for your new hybrid acquaintance. though you're almost sure that toji won't be in his usual spot in the alleyway by your apartment in this weather, probably taking shelter where he normally does when the outside is too harsh. plus even if he decided to take his chances to come for food, he would've left as soon as he noticed his plate wasn't there.

you haphazardly push yourself through your front door, nearly tripping as you attempt to close the umbrella while simultaneously avoiding the rain. you inhale deeply once you're safe, leaning back against the door as you catch your breath. the rain sounds are muffled now that you are in your little cocoon of an apartment, and you immediately pull your wet shoes off with a grimace.

half an hour later you're stepping into the warmest, most comfortable pajamas you own, body now clean and thrumming with the freshness that only a good shower can provide. your stomach growls as you step into the kitchen, the rain still slapping against your window, and you immediately try to throw together whatever food you can find.

thanks to toji's daily rations, you have an assortment of meat in your fridge, but you settle for eating some rice and curry, choosing to leave meat for a day where the wolf is actually around.

you're halfway through your meal when you hear familiar sounds in your alleyway, and you can't help the way your jaw drops.

"oh my god there is no way," you mutter under your breath, hurrying over to your door and slipping on your shoes. grabbing your umbrella and snapping it open, you duck under it to avoid once again getting drenched by the downpour, the splashing sounds of your footsteps echoing through the alleyway.

even though he is soaked to the bone, toji looks unbothered, sitting against the wall lazily. his dark ears are laying low against his head, but they twitch to life at the sound of you approaching. you ignore the normal distance that is kept between the two of you, opting to stop right in front of him so you can hold the umbrella over his head. "what are you doing out in this rain?"

"you're late today." he ignores your question, green eyes sliding up your figure to meet your gaze. you shake your head in exasperation, staring down at him with a frown.

"yeah i got held up at work." you adjust the umbrella a little, and toji's eyes flick towards it, as though just realizing it's there. "i didn't think you'd be out here."

"came by earlier and saw your lights were off and you weren't home," he grunts, shaking his wet hair out of his. "just thought it was weird."

(he does not mention how long he sat and waited for you to get back, ears perking at every little noise that turned out to be nothing. he does not mention that after a while he got up to circle the area, eyes on high alert and a rising aggression in his demeanor, only to come back and find your lights on.)

"oh," you say lamely, blinking through mist. toji gets to his feet, and you reel at the way he towers over you. he shakes his head, the water from his ears and hair splashing haphazardly, before nodding once.

"well i'm leaving." he turns to walk away, and you blanch.

"to go where?" you can't help but pry, looking at his back searchingly. you see him shrug, hands in his pockets. his tail remains unmoving with the weight of water, clothing sticking against his damp skin.

"who knows?" he grunts. he nods his head at you gruffly. "get inside."

"but…" you grimace, glancing at the dark sky. "what if you get sick?"

toji's brow raises, and he throws you a sarcastic glance over his shoulder. "i'm not made of fluff, kid."

you can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes at his brashness. you don't know what you're doing, but the idea of him prowling out in the pouring rain makes your stomach churn.

"come inside."

toji's head whips so fast you think he might break his neck, jade eyes going wide. one ear perks at your statement, oddly endearing, and you would've chuckled if his expression wasn't so aghast.

"the fuck you say?"

you swallow, suddenly nervous. seriously what the hell are you doing? "come inside," you repeat, your grip tightening around the umbrella.

"are you fucking insane?" toji's voice is sharp and accusatory, like you've just said the most offensive thing known to man. "why would you even—?"

"it's pouring." you say it blandly. "and i wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing you were sitting out here like that."

"i'll live," he scoffs, and you bristle at the harshness of his tone. "i'm not a cushy little human."

"ha ha," you mock him sarcastically, voice cutting over the sounds of rain hitting your umbrella. "even animals get sick in the rain, don't they?"

he grumbles at that, eyes narrowed at your haughty smile, before he turns to face you completely. "why the hell do you care?"

"i—" you pause, not sure what to say. why do you care? "i just do."

toji rolls his eyes, shoulders raised high as he squints at you through the torrents of rain. a beat of silence passes as you stare back, unyielding, and he finally sighs heavily. "you have horrible survival instincts, you know that?"

you can't help but beam, laughing at his disgruntled expression as he falls into step with you and making sure you angle the umbrella to cover his head. "if you wanna leave later you're free to. just stay until the rain stops."

toji glances at you from the corner of his eye, contemplating. he wasn't joking—you really did have the worst judgement he's ever seen. he can't wrap his head around how you don't find it dangerous to invite a ragged animal into your home, especially one that can so easily tear your limbs off. instead, you have this dopey little smile on your face as you walk him into your space, closing the umbrella with a practiced snap and leading him inside.

well, toji isn't one to complain—he can't even remember the last time he's felt the warmth of the indoors, shielded against the bite of the outside world. and if he tries too hard to remember, he'll find that the last time did not have same sweetness that seems to be radiating off of your very person.

the inside of your apartment is small, but cozy. toji can't help but look around, noticing the details that have made this place your own. he inhales deeply, finding traces of the scent of food, of laundry detergent, of an unlit candle.

of you.

"uh…" your voice has gone slightly awkward, and toji's gaze falls on your sheepish expression. you look somewhat embarrassed, consciously looking around at the lived-in messiness of your space—not that toji really cares. "d-do you wanna wash up? i should have some extra clothes for you around here."

toji grimaces at the feeling of his ragged shirt clinging to his damp skin, but he tries not to make it too obvious how much he welcomes the idea. he can feel dirt and grime under his claws, and the thought of an actual bath makes his head spin with feral delight. "i guess so," he mutters, nonchalant. you seem to relax at his willingness, and you nod as you lead him to the bathroom. he shamelessly looks around, eyeing the pictures of you and other people in your life hanging from your walls. he can smell your half-eaten dinner, and his stomach rumbles.

you push open the bathroom door, and he briefly glimpses a pile of clothes on the ground, along with a few other things scattered here and there.

"fuck," you curse under your breath, heat crawling up your neck as you practically trip over yourself to get inside and tidy up. "j-just wait out here for a second please!"

toji snorts out a sardonic scoff of disbelief. if you really believed that he would care about something as trivial as a pile of laundry, you've got him completely wrong. but he guesses it is just slightly funny to see you so stressed over your dirty underwear because of him.

you rustle around inside and then emerge, breathlessly smiling as though nothing had occurred. toji watches you, expressionless, and you gesture to the bathroom. "okay now it should be all good. there's soap and stuff in there so use whatever you need. let me get you some clothes."

you immediately squeeze past him, trying to head for another room, and that's when toji fucks up. it's an accident, but he can't help his reaction. your elbow accidently nudges his abdomen, and he yelps with pain, the sound morphing into a guarded growl. you immediately recoil, eyes going wide in fear and concern—he internally curses.

"what?!" you gasp, gaze darting over his body. "what happened?"

he clicks his tongue. "nothing," he snarls, fist clenched around the fabric of his shirt. you eye him warily, and he can tell you don't believe him.

"what? are you hurt or something?"

"no!" he snaps back, teeth bared, and that's all the reaction you need before you're crossing your arms and glaring at him.

"listen, if you're hurt you need to get it cleaned and looked at." toji has half a mind to laugh in your face because you look so stupid trying to intimidate him when you're barely reaching his chin. he knows there is stock in what you say, but he is not doing this with you.

"like hell," he grunts, mirroring your posture and sneering down his nose. "i'll be fine."

"you squealed like a puppy when i barely touched you!"

he throws you an appalled scowl. "what the fuck did you call me?"

"i'm right and you know it!" you shoot back irritably. you seem to catch yourself, because you let out an exasperated sigh and your voice goes a little softer. "will you at least let me look at it?"

toji eyes you warily, feeling a strange mixture of trepidation and guilt. he knows he is right to be cautious, and he knows he should not be trusting you no matter how sweet you seem to act. but at the same time he hurts, and he does not want to go back outside even though he's used to it now—something about such free warmth is making the rational part of his brain fall apart.

he sighs heavily, grumbling under his breath and shooting you a withering glare, before he carefully tugs his shirt off. he can feel the wet fabric clinging to his opened skin, and he bites back a hiss of pain as he rips it away. when he's got it off, he just looks at you, accusatory—but you aren't looking at him.

instead you have a distinct look of abject horror on your face as your eyes roam over his body. though he is extremely well-built and quite honestly, very attractive, his skin is marred with scars. old and fresh, they litter his body like a barely thought out map, and you seem to experience a minor heart attack. your eyes zero in on the wounds that are causing him the most pain—a shallow gash cutting just over his stomach and what looks like a deep bloodied bite in his forearm.

"how?" your voice is shaky, and you finally meet his eyes again. "what happened to you?"

"don't worry about it," he mumbles, his voice a little less gruff as he studiously avoids looking at you. "i told you it's not that bad. it looks worse than it is."

you conveniently ignore him, taking a step closer to study his body. frustratingly enough he feels heat crawl up his neck because you're looking at him so intently, teeth digging into your bottom lip and chewing with nervous bites. finally, you tear your gaze away from his torso to look at his shirt, a deep frown creasing your features as you notice the contrasting darkness in certain areas of the fabric—bloodstains. "well you can't leave them open like this."

toji rolls his eyes harshly. "i've lived through worse."

you glare at him once more, and he finds that the expression looks quite good on you. "you need to clean them up, toji."

his name slides off your tongue like butter, and he can feel his canines scrape against his lips. a flicker of something akin to embarrassment trickles over his body, and he frowns distastefully. "no."

you click your tongue, exasperation rolling off of you in waves. "are you stupid? they'll get worse. i mean they're probably already infected and—"

"i don't know how to alright?!" he hisses, baring his teeth at you angrily. your expression turns bewildered, eyes darting between his quickly, before it melts into something frustratingly sympathetic.

"that's it?" your voice is like honey, and he can't decide whether it irritates him or not. "i can help you."

help. toji doesn't believe humans are capable of helping—only harming. but you're looking up at him so imploringly, eyes focused and heavy with the foolish need to bring him comfort. why, he does not understand. but he has never been able to understand why humans act the way they do.

he pins you with a wordless stare, and he knows you've realized he's relenting, because your lips quirk upward slightly. with a nod of your head, you motion him to follow you into the bathroom and take a seat on the edge of the tub. he watches you rummage through the cabinets, pulling out what looks like gauze, disinfectant, a small towel, and a sizeable mug, which you fill up with warm water. he's about to stand up to make space, but you kneel at his feet instead, setting everything at your side and pushing your hair away from your face.

it baffles him, how quick you are to yield to a species that is so obviously beneath you.

but you don't seem to be thinking any of that, gaze darting over his body as you try to figure out how to approach this. "i'll try and clean up all the blood first and then disinfect, okay?" your voice is barely a murmur, but his pointed ears catch the words all the same.

"you're the expert," he grunts, nonchalant. "do what you need to."

you smile wryly, dipping the towel into the water. "you said it, not me."

he snorts out a sound that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle, but you don't comment on it. instead, you are focused on his body. you see numerous scars and welts, some fresh and some so old, and you are surprised at how sad they make you. it seems like the feeling is evident on your face, because toji watches your features with an unfamiliar intensity. you can't help but prod. "how'd you get these?"

your voice is gentle, as though you're scared a lack of fragility will shatter him. but toji has dealt with far worse than whatever sweetness you seem hell bent on showing him.

"betting on animal fights is a lot of fun for rich assholes." he doesn't look at you, but his lip curls with a deep rooted distaste—you think you feel it too.

so that's where toji comes from. the underground hybrid arenas that you've seen on the news many times before. a common place for predators who were normally so unwelcome in society to be put to good use. a controversial topic, because despite its popularity amongst the rich, everyone knew the conditions were not the greatest.

but you never thought they'd be this bad—how naive.

"i'm so sorry," you mumble forlornly, gently tracing the towel over the wounds. toji grunts noncommittally, but doesn't say much else. you're fine with that, and you clean him up with a tenderness that makes his stomach churn.

all he can focus on his how small your fingers looked wrapped around his claws, and he think you might be a lot braver than he is.

after you're done with your handiwork, you leave him to wash up in peace, and toji silently stares at your tiled wall as the hot water pours over his back. he does not know what he's doing, and what he's trying to get from this. sure, being fed everyday was a welcome addition, but he never planned on stepping this close to you—the thought makes him queasy. he does not enjoy the idea of being indebted to a human, because all they do is take and take and take some more.

and yet he finds himself slipping into the clothes you've given him, and when he looks in the mirror he's surprised at how much a simple bath could change him. toji wearily runs his tongue over his teeth, before it traces over the scar on his lips. a wave of disgust washes over him—he pushes it aside.

when he find you again, you're in what he assumes is a spare bedroom, tucking a fresh set of sheets into the corners of the mattress. he drops his old clothes in the corner, and then clears his throat to announce his presence. you turn to look over your shoulder and smile at his cleaner appearance. "you're done?"

he nods gruffly, watching as you stand up straight and take a few steps closer. "did the shower help?" you pin him with a curious stare, and he sighs resentfully.

"yeah," he grumbles, and he can feel your smug little smile saying nothing but i told you so. he has the strongest urge to flick your forehead.

"oh, i can take care of these."

he can't bite back his snarl when you pick up his clothes, and you freeze at the unusually territorial look on his face. he seems to pick up on the little fright he gave you, and his ears lose a bit of their tension as he sighs gruffly. "just…don't get rid of them."

you pause, glancing down at the rags in your hands. you stop to think that maybe these clothes are the one thing that toji has had since the start—important in a way that you won't understand. so you just nod with a reassuring smile. "i won't. i'll just wash them for you."

toji's shoulders relax, and his expression shifts, green eyes looking anywhere but your face. he nods once but doesn't say anything else, and you take it as your sign to continue.

"you can sleep here. i changed the sheets and put some pillows down too." you nod at the bed, pristine and untouched, and toji's bones suddenly ache with fatigue. how long has it been since he's seen a real bed?

he wonders what exactly your angle is. what do you get from helping someone like him? what sick urge do you satisfy by extending pity to a ragged animal? what do you achieve by passing on glittering smiles like they aren't priceless?

and what do you do to make yourself look so innocent through it all?

you're still blabbering about the bed. as much as he tries, toji cannot smell any malice on you—just pure disgustingly sweet kindness.

"how d'you know i'm not a serial killer or something?" he peers down at you with an arched brow, gaze sharp. "i could just eat you in your sleep."

you blink, before smiling sheepishly. "…do you plan to?"

there's a pause, and then for the first time, you see his scarred lips tug up to one side—a half-smile. a quiet chuckle bubbles forth and he crosses his arms. "nah, you're a little too sweet for my tastes."

you frown at him, watching as he dramatically wiggles his clawed fingers and flashes you his teeth, before rolling your eyes. "how flattering."

he snorts out another laugh, and you take the time to put the extra blankets on the old bed. "i've got more blankets in the closet if you need them, so help yourself." you busy your hands with propping the pillows against the headboard, and you see toji nod from your peripheral.

"i'll uh, be outta your hair soon," he mutters, suddenly feeling out of place.

"relax," you answer, grinning with a shake of your head. "i'm the one who asked you to stay so we could get your wounds all better. you're not giving me any trouble."

"right," he murmurs. there's an uncharacteristic gentleness in his tone, awkward and tense, but you recognize it to be a semi form of gratitude. toji glances at your easy going grin, and his skin prickles uncomfortably—he's not sure how to react to such blatant warmth.

"i'm in the next room over so if you need anything, just knock. i'm a pretty light sleeper." you flash him a thumbs up and turn on your heel, heading to your own room. toji waits until he hears the click of your door before taking a cautious step forward. the clothes you've given him are somewhat tight on his figure, and they faintly smell of some other man, which makes his nose wrinkle with distaste.

though he guesses he should try to bite his tongue and be a little grateful—they're much more comfortable than the rags he'd been in for all those months. toji clambers into the bed, claws digging into the unfamilar softness of sheets, and a heavy wave of fatigue washes over him.

he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, your stupidly sweet smile burning behind his eyelids.

taglist: @h4wkz @babyblue0t7 @en-happiness @ourfinalisation @lymsfm @jazzy00001 @mahoubitch @deedeeznoots @ghost-buddies @teddybeartoji @onimira @polarbvnny @starmapz @thikcems @nonamebbsblog @echodead @pennameyoruichiii @venussdovess @emi311 @meow-satoru

lmk if you would like to be added/removed <33

[lostinlovingrevery]

Thinking about old man Logan struggling to… get it up with reader and he gets all insecure 😭😭

It's Natural

Old Man Logan X F! Reader

Logan has some trouble getting his one eyed trouser snake to wake up

A/N: I was giggling writing this. also my search history has really become awful and weird since i started writing fics.

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, Allusions to sex, Logan can't get it up, Logan being extremely dramatic, peepee touching(blowjobs people, blowjobs), did you know men can orgasm and/or ejaculate without an erection? Greek god punishments mentioned lol, a lil fluff, I put F but this actually could be gender neutral!

Huh....So this is what it feels like

Logan avoided your sympathetic gaze.

"It's okay baby-"

His face burned hotter.

"It's natural"

He scoffed.

Your arms wrapped around his waist as you hugged him from behind, your chest, pressed into his firm back, you gave him a squeeze. He moved to stand up from the bed, but you held onto him.

Why, why does God have to keep playing this cruel joke on him? Is this his punishment for his sins?

He rather be cast down by lightning.

Let the pits of hell open up and swallow him whole. Give him punishments fit for the Greeks. He'll gladly let himself be bound, where an Eagle will eat his liver every day; He'll push the damn rock up the mountain only for it to roll back down, and repeat; put him on a fiery wheel, spinning through the sky.

Anything

Anything but this.

He used to laugh at men who were in a position that he has found himself in. A bit of arrogance from aging and never having an issue before. He didn't believe he was invincible, he just thought maybe his body would give out before he would have to worry about a problem like this.

In fact his younger self was always full of piss and vinegar. His stamina unmatched. His refractory period just mere seconds after coitus.

It's not like you didn't get to experience that with him.

You've had to beg him to slow down before. He held a certain pride in being able to make a pretty young thing like you out of breath. Bury himself in you over and over, playfully taunting you because you couldn't keep up with an old man like him. He reveled in your whines and praises.

He never thought that you'd have to experience this, with him.

"You're making it a big deal." You say softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"Because it is." He snapped turning his head towards you.

"You're just tired. You've been overworking yourself baby." You rested your head on his shoulder as you hugged him. He tensed up. "It happens."

"Not to me." He grumbles sitting up from the bed. The mattress creaked from his weight disappearing.

"Lo." You sigh, dropping your arms in your lap as you watch him walk across the room, nude, reaching for his coat as he pulled out an cigar and his lighter from the inner pocket.

You admired his form. Muscular, hairy, fuck how could you not? He was sculpted, every curve, every divot, every muscle, made your mouth water.

He wouldn't look at you while he smoked, brows creased in frustration as he dragged himself deeper into a pit of self-hatred. A cloud of cigar smoke hazed the room and made you a little light-headed.

You had been fooling around. Logan came home early tonight, claiming he missed you. He was all over you, kissing and touching and you were loving it. One by one your clothes were yanked off - Logan had nearly ripped your pants off you - again.

Course time went on and you were becoming more eager for the main course- not that you didn't love the foreplay. You noticed Logan's frustrations as he kept grinding and kissing you. Before he finally pulled himself off you, shame in his face, and a glance downwards told you what you needed to know.

It really didn't bother you. Of course it didn't! You loved him. Things happen. He was already older than an average man, and to be honest his libido had surprised you at his age.

No words were going to making him feel better.

Fuck it, stiffy or not, he's your man, and you wanted him.

You climbed off the bed where he was leaning against the creaky old dresser you had thrifted from a local shop.

"Lo." You say, and his eyes only glanced at you for a second before glancing away. "If you're going to be like that, then I'll just do it myself."

Logan looked at you, a small bewilderment across his face as you dropped to your knees. You took his flaccid member into your hand, and began stroking him. Slowly and gently.

"Jesus-" His breath hitched. "Baby what are you doing?"

"Lo..." You hummed, looking up at him with a sinful smile, you leaned forward, playfully tapping his cock against your lips. "I want you. Okay?"

He watched in surprise, as you took him in between your lips, swirling your tongue over his tip. His stomach tensed, and flexed, as his lips parted as he watched you take him in between your lips.

Fucking hell

He tipped his head back, the feeling of your tongue swirling over his soft cock was different. You acted no difference from him being hard or soft though, taking him down your throat, bobbing your head over him. Your spit soaked his cock

Your hand came up to fondle his balls, gently squeezing and groping them, as your other hand ran soothingly up and down his thigh.

Just when he thought he couldn't love you more

The humiliation was there still. Yet every suck, pop, and lick as you worked over him pushed it farther and farther away. You devoured him as he were desirable.

A deep moan reverberated from you, and that was the nail in the coffin for him.

A hard grunt escaped him as his shoulders lurched forward and his hand dug into your hair, gripping you as he pushed himself further down your throat making you gag. His cum coming out in short, hot spurts.

His chest heaved, and he tipped his head back.

Not quite as powerful as normal orgasm, but as he looked down at you, it didn't matter.

You stood up, wiping your lips of spit and cum before leaning forward to kiss him, your arms wrapped around his waist.

"See? No biggie." You smile up at him.

He observed with you fascination.

"I love you. In every way." You reassured him, pecking his lips again.

The both of you stopped, surprise on your face as your felt something hard on your hip. He raised his brows as he looked down at you, a faint grin growing across his face. You hummed, leaning in to brush your lips over his, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace.

"Well, Bonjour Monsieur"

[dark-moonlust]

The Griffin’s Claim

Pairing: griffin x f!human reader Summary: your mate is obsessed with flying in the sky while you are strapped to his cock. He wants to keep your pussy stretched and filled. Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18+!!, oral(fem receiving), tail stimulation, big 🍆, p in v sex, flying while strapped, lots of 💦.

This is one of my top fav smut. Please let me know if you liked it!!!

It was a lovely morning, and you had just finished your chores at the village. You walked deep within the forest, then headed up the slope, waiting at the clearing. It had been six months since you’d started dating your griffin, and despite your differences you had learned how to work things out. Interspecies matings were rare but not impossible in your age and time. With patience, you had even managed to take your boyfriend’s monster cock, though he was still training you to accept more pleasure.

At that thought, your pussy became wet and you rubbed your thighs to alleviate the need.

You heard your mate approach before you saw him.

The dense forest around you seized to exist as the powerful griffin you called yours, descended from the sky. He flapped his powerful wings with its colorful feathers, his body strong and lean, that of a lion. He had the head of an eagle, a long tail and wings that spanned wide across the sky. His eyes were sharp and bright amber, and they could see miles ahead.

Right now, his eyes were fixed on you as he landed gracefully before you. He was huge and tall, four times your height and tones heavier. But he was also so tender with you. He held you close to his tawny lion coated body, his wings coming to envelope your smaller frame. You buried your face in his fur, feeling completely protected while his beak nuzzled against your face.

“Ready to go home, my mate?” he asked, his voice husky. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, my love.”

Smiling you prepared to ride his back when he stopped you with a soft click of his tongue. “Aren’t you forgetting something, sweetheart?”

You pouted, shifted nervously because you knew what he meant. He wanted to strap you to his cock while flying. It was one of his ways to stretch your pussy. You had tried it a couple of times, always in the dead of the night when no one could see you. You still recalled how deep he had fucked you while soaring the sky. And the orgasms… they were so intense and toe-curling.

“Again? I… I don’t know if I can do this,” you muttered, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and thrill.

“You’re my mate,” he said, his shining amber eyes gazing into yours. “You can do this and you should be proud of that. Proud of taking my cock so beautifully.”

His words caused more liquid heat to pool in your pussy. “But… it’s broad light and someone might see. It’s shameful.”

He let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “Shameful? No, my sweet. It’s necessary. Because your tight pussy needs lots of preparation. It will take me at least half an hour to fly us back to our home, and that’s more than enough time to stretch your soaked little cunt around my cock.”

“People might see…” you trailed off, eyes lowering to the ground.

“Oh, I will make sure they see how gorgeous you are.”

With a gentle yet firm grip, he turned you around, lowering you on your hands and knees. You whimpered but obeyed as his large, clawed hands tore your clothes, tossing them away. You felt the sun kiss your bare skin. He really was going to prepare you for this. And your treacherous core clenched at that thought.

Sitting down behind you, your mate caressed the lines of your body, careful of his claws. “Smooth and soft.”

Strong hands cupped your breasts, enfolding them completely in his strong grip. He felt them up, massaging the pert mounds that were far too small in contrast to his massive palms. He rubbed around your aching nipples, flicking the buds. You whined and pressed back against him, seeking more. His touch trailed down your belly and he gripped your hips, spreading your legs apart and bearing your pussy and ass to his view.

“Let’s loosen you up so you can take my cock deep, hmm?” he said, his voice a husky whisper.

“Please… it’s so open here—”

“Be a good girl for me,” he said, slapping your bum lightly and causing you to jerk.

“Hey!”

Another slap, this time closer to your pussy.

You whined and wiggled your ass.

“Be good or else I’ll fuck both your naughty holes, cock in your pussy, tail in your ass.”

You stayed still at the (delectable) threat. “I’ll be good.”

Chuckling darkly, he leaned closer and opened his wings to shield you as his hot breath ghosted over your pussy. You bit back a whine and closed your eyes when he licked you up, his wide tongue lapping at your entrance. You clutched the soil and moaned softly as he ate you out, tilting his head slightly to the side, so that he didn’t hurt you with his beak. His tongue was blessedly long and it worked its way inside you, stretching and fucking your hole until you were panting with need, your embarrassment giving way to pleasure.

“Look at you,” he purred as he watched your pussy flutter. “So wet, so ready for me. Fuck… I want to be so deep inside you.”

Before you could respond, he positioned his front legs at the sides of your head, his underbelly pressing against your spine. The tip of his massive cock pressed against your entrance, probing carefully. It popped in with a wet sound and you both moaned loudly. A slow, deliberate thrust and he pushed further inside, pushing past the resistance of your body, filling you inch by inch. You cried out and arched back, the stretch almost too much to bear once he bottomed up inside you.

The angle was intense, his cock filling you so deep that your belly bulged with his size. You felt the fat head kissing your cervix, his ridges and protrusions stimulating your walls. Taking his dick seemed almost impossible but not painful, even if you were a human. You were his fated one, it was the reason why you could mate so intimately with him.

“Damn, so tight,” he growled as he thrusted deep, drawing back his cock which was laved in your juices before slamming back in. “But you’re taking me so well, such a good mate. Such a good cunt.”

His tail sneaked between your thighs, the tip rubbing your clit. You blabbered inarticulate words, your body trembling beneath him, his deliberate ministrations blindsiding you. Mating and fucking your monster boyfriend was no simple job. It took much more work than a regular human relationship. But you’d change nothing. You wanted him so much and it felt so good to be filled by him, body and soul.

Wet squelching sounds echoed through the clearing as you rocked against your mate, taking his monster shaft over and over. Your cunt stretched and tried to suck him in, fitting him like a glove. He growled and pounded his talons on the ground and it didn’t take long for both of you to reach your peak.

You came first, white-hot pleasure exploding like lightning bolts and taking over your body. Your whole frame trembled violently as he buried his shaft deep and released with a shrill, probably alerting the whole forest. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your insides, his seed like a torrent at first then turning into ripples that slowly stopped.

Drawing back, his large cock left your pussy with a lewd squelch. You whined, feeling his seed trickle down your folds then drenching your thighs. Turning you head gently, his beak traced your lips in imitation of a kiss. When you opened your mouth, his long, flexible tongue slipped inside to explore your mouth. Your tongues danced together, and you tasted your arousal on his tongue.

”Now, let’s get you strapped on, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes glinting down at you.

“Pl…ease,” you whimpered, your voice a breathless plea. “It’s too much…”

“Is it painful, little one? Is that why you are so against it?”

“No!” you said firmly. “It’s just… I’m so sensitive, I’m gonna cum again—”

“Great. I want you cumming again and again, making a mess all over.”

With that, he rolled you on your back and lowered his body, so you were under his lion underbelly. Using his beak, he released the leather bindings at his sides and pressed even closer to you, his cock throbbing against your cum-stained pussy. Gulping audibly, you looked at his shaft; it had a stout round tip and surrounding ridges and protrusions along its length. And it was still rock hard, jutting against your folds proudly.

Your breath hitched when he thrust forward, impaling you in one smooth glide. You were far too wet and he stretched you open once again, taking away your ability to think with how deep and big he was. This time he didn’t fuck you. He stayed buried deep inside, your belly bulging against his own.

“Now strap the bindings safely around you,” he ordered softly, his eyes leaving no room for refusal.

Breathing shakily, you began to secure the buckles that cradled your bum, then the ones that fastened around your waist. It wasn’t an easy task… with his cock throbbing deep inside you and his fur rubbing against your sensitive nipples. After some minutes of fumbling and moaning at the friction, you managed to seal your body to his, both of you locked as one. You wrapped your arms around his body, your legs up in the air.

Your mate tested the security of the bindings, shifting to his full height, taking you with him. Suspended in the air, you nearly sobbed at the sensations. The slightest movements caused his cock to plunge and tease your insides. Your mate growled low, affected by the feel of you as he walked back and forth, with your weight under him, his cock pulsing inside you. Then he stood on his back talons, embracing you with his front legs. Just to make this doubly secure.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble. “Feel how deep I am? That’s how I want you to take me. All the time.”

You could only hum and he spread his wings, his powerful muscles flexing as he prepared to fly. With a mighty leap, he took to the sky, the wind rushing against your skin, combined with the constant pressure of his cock inside you. Each beat of his wings took you high above the trees until the forest landscape became a distant blur. His cock drove you wild, and you couldn’t help but moan loudly, the sound lost in the flapping of his wings.

“That’s it,” he said loud enough for your to hear. “My perfect human mate, so full and stretched around me.”

The fly back home passed in a blur of moans and bliss. He gave you one orgasm after another, his seed filling you, leaking down your thighs in obscene amounts. He floated low enough to show you off, roaring proudly as he marked you for all to see, the scent of him bathing you. By the time you reached home, you were covered in his cum, exhausted but blissfully fucked.

Please let me know what you think? Comments and reblogs would make me super happy!

[jsooly]

if you were the sullys' human kid / jake sully & neytiri x daughter!reader

synopsis, a baby when the na'vi forced the sky people off their planet, jake bonds with you and tries to convince neytiri to raise you as their own. she doesn't agree, unless…

+ takes place during avatar 2009

(1 - ur here! ☆) / (2) / (3) / (4*)

+ chapters with an * beside it means that it’s following atwow plot line as opposed to disconnected scenarios

"hey—who's kid is this?!"

your mother was pregnant with you during her term as an RDA corporal. she often went on missions with you in tow, safe behind squads of personnel.

you were born on the battlefield, promptly transported back to base before the worst could happen

she died shortly after, before you were even a day old.

orphaned, they powers that were let you stay in her room and put you in the care of the scientists and doctors.

months passed. you learned to walk quickly, learned to yell for attention when you needed something... the RDA base was in no way suited for a child, and no one cared to accommodate you. not when they had na'vi to terrorize and a planet to pillage!

worming your way out of supervision yet again, you found yourself in the fields where the avatars' playing court and farm plants the height of two humans.

you scurried out of the cover the tall stalks provided as an avatar came flying up the path, its knee connecting with your side and sending you flying.

"shit—!"

"jake, i told you you weren't supposed to be running!"

your body must've tumbled 10ft. down the way before you came to a stop. and once you got over the shock, your cries were definitely heard all the way in the command center.

"that's a child!" jake held his head in his hands, relief flooding through him that you were responsive after that collision.

"woah, really?" norm said in a dumb voice before pushing past him and crouching beside you.

"how old is she?! how is she just allowed to walk around on her own?"

"she's turning two soon and her mom died recently in a spat with the na'vi. frankly we don't have the time or resources right now to keep an eye on her at all times." norm cradled you as he surveyed the damage. "thank goodness you just missed her and didn't bulldoze her like an animal."

it ended up fine. you were a tough kid.

poor jake didn't leave your side as you were taken to the med bay and treated, avatar and all.

he fretted as the nurses wrapped your arm with bandages.

"hey, kid." jake offered a sympathetic smile, dusting the dirt off your clothes. his thumb rubbed over your cheeks gently, wiping off the mud that had crusted. "no hard feelings?"

you gave him a wide-eyed look and wrapped your little hand around his thumb as if you were shaking his hand in agreement.

and that was the moment you had him hooked.

sure, his primary objective was bonding with the na'vi, but the times he was on base, his mind would wander back to you. what on earth pandora could a 2 year old be doing to entertain themselves in this weird environment?

curiosity would get the better of him and he'd use the little spare time he had to peek into your room.

seeing you play all alone with your blocks and cars and makeshift dolls made him so unimaginably sad he had to reconsider why he even felt that way.

you caught his figure in the doorway. he tried to retreat, but you'd already made your way towards him.

"jake!" you chirped, stumbling on chubby legs.

"yup." he eased back into view, a warm smile on his face. "that's me." how do you talk to kids? "whatcha up to?"

you mumbled something.

"hm?"

"playing." you shrugged, kicking the invisible dirt on the ground.

"i can see that." he hummed. "is norm gonna let you watch the avatars today?"

you held your chin in thought as you'd seen dr. grace do many times. jake's lips twitched upwards in amusement.

"yeah." you finally answered.

he glanced to the side, unsure what to make of your monotonous replies. "uh... you excited?"

you pointed at him. "you?"

"me?" he asked, pointing to himself also. "am i excited?"

you shook your head. "your... avatar?"

"ohhh." he nodded slowly in understanding. "no, you won't see me much today. i'm gonna be out on a mission."

you frowned and stepped back, shutting the door in his face.

"huh." the rejection stung just as bad as neytiri's.

somewhere down the line, he grew self-conscious, as if his self worth depended on the opinions of a toddler.

the bunch had to listen to him ramble not-so-subtlety and answer all his questions about you, so they caught on pretty quick.

"jake, she's attached to you." grace said with finality. "she's upset she can't spend more time with her favorite person. simple as that."

"favorite person?" jake echoed, distressed. "i almost killed her when we first met!"

grace scoffed. "that's an exaggeration."

"a warranted one." norm mumbled under his breath.

grace whacked him. "you're not helping."

"she slammed the door in my face the other day." jake folding his hands together, resting his forehead against his fists. "you... you think she's mad at me?"

the team groaned.

grace put a hand on jake's shoulder. "don't worry about y/n. you should be focusing on your other girl." she said, referring to neytiri.

the big battle came around, all the tensions and issues snowballing into one decisive moment where the na'vi had the chance to defend what had been taken from them.

jake was over the moon when he finally did what he knew in his heart was right. he embraced neytiri after the battle and he thought he had everything he ever wanted in his hands.

but... a part of his heart was running around the base barefoot.

"ma'jake." neytiri hissed. "no."

"she has nowhere to go." jake pleaded. by the grace of eywa, he was permanently connected with his avatar. his giant hands hooked under your armpits, dangling you in the air in front of his mate.

even neytiri couldn't deny how pitiful you looked. your eyes were sunken from not sleeping enough, frame small from lack of nutrition. what were your caretakers doing?

she shook her thoughts away, retorting, "leave her with her kind! she will be better suited there."

"they're too busy to take care of her properly." jake held you against his chest, stepping towards neytiri. "she needs a proper mother and father."

neytiri growled bluntly in frustration. "i cannot—will not—raise a human child."

jake frowned, unwilling to dismiss her feelings or leave you behind. he loved both his girls too much to deny either one of you. conflicted, he stood there frozen as he tried to think up a compromise.

neytiri studied her husband's face, his brows knit in torment and lips pulled between his teeth. her heart suddenly felt heavy.

“if she matters that much to you… she may stay with us. until those humans can figure out a way to care for her.”

jake lit up like pandora under the night sky. “thank you.” he pulled her in and hugged her right, pressing his lips to her forehead reverently. “thank you.”

within a month, you grew on neytiri. i’m not even joking it was that quick.

she marveled at how light your footsteps were. there were so many times you crept in her shadow unnoticed until she heard that sweet giggle of yours.

you were her fast learner. you were a much better student that your father. being so young, you were able to catch onto the language quickly.

humans were bad. human babies….. eh. this human baby in particular… oh, she could more that spare her prejudice. affection can take its place instead.

it wasn’t bad seeing jake in dad mode either. she didn’t have any doubts, but seeing jake interact so gently with you and entertain you even after a long day made her even more confident in her choice.

a comm came in. neytiri watched jake cross the space as he answered the ringing. as greetings were exchanged between norm, max, and jake, she continued to comb through your hair.

“nga lu… brushing? my nikre?” (you are… brushing? my hair?) you sounded out.

“close.” neytiri said. gently tugging your head back to look at your face, she smiled. “good job.”

you beamed up at her. “irayo nga, sa'nok.” (thank you, mother.)

she paused, peering down at you before tilting your head down and resuming her work on your hair.

in theory, neytiri would’ve corrected you. but that would’ve meant there was something wrong with what you said.

“hey, things have calmed down around here. we can take y/n.” norm said over the phone.

jake glanced at neytiri, who was already watching him.

“they lie. leave this child in their irresponsible hands?” neytiri scoffed and hissed under breath. “she is better suited here with us.”

the knot in jake’s stomach dissipated. “yeah.” he grinned. then, turning back to the phone, “yeah, don’t worry about y/n. she’s good with us.”

neytiri fought back her own smile.

fast forward two years or so, you had a baby brother on the way.

more parts?? idk

© jsooly ‘25.

[slightly-knot-insane]

Gentleman's Cage (part 1)

Monstertober 2024 - day 29 [ Caged Beast ] by @/ozzgin

[ m!werewolf x fem!reader ]

a/n: some regency smut, my first one so please be gentle! i was greatly inspired by @regency-monster-love and they were so kind to help me out too! thank you, dear! content: slightly nsfw

He can’t calm down. He knows you will be there, and he is getting very impatient to see you. Especially since you told him you find his courting very pleasing. It took him a while to reveal that he is a werewolf. But instead of running away screaming, you smiled and touched his hand. You even looked excited.

Just reminiscing about those few minutes put a smile on his face, his sharp canines showing underneath his lips. But thinking about you too much is also dangerous. His body - his lower body, to be more precise - reacts to the mere idea of you as if you're right next to him. Naked.

He groans, feeling his erection pushing against the fabric of his finest trousers. Being born with werewolf blood is both a blessing and a curse. He is aware that people will notice; anyone with eyes will notice the hardness alongside his inner thigh. That's why he hopes his little metal tool will help him. Or else, the scandal will follow him wherever he goes.

***

The fancy gathering is as lovely as he expects. People dance, eat and drink, and converse on various topics that barely interest him. He is looking for you with every sense he has - but they find nothing. He wants to ask someone, but even a mere question would raise suspicion. He doesn’t want anyone to know, not yet, that he fancies you rather intensely.

But he shouldn't think about you too much! He shifts his legs a little bit to position the metal contraption between his legs in a more comfortable way. Cock cage, they called it. Even while flaccid, it was hard to push his manhood inside. But he managed to lock his desire in - physically, at least. Mentally - not so much.

Finally, he catches a whiff of your sweat. You aren’t just fashionably late, you are very late so you were probably rushing down the path and up the stairs. Perhaps you were frustrated and nervous about some mishap, furiously fanning yourself in your carriage. And perhaps - only perhaps - you were thinking of him. Thinking about his eyes and teeth and tall frame. Perhaps you held your knuckle between your lush lips while the fingers of your other hand secretly wandered underneath your skirt and—

The painful jolt underneath his belt wakes him up from his daydreaming. Stop it, you fool! He curses internally and immediately turns toward the window, pretending to observe the night sky. He forces himself to think about what to eat for breakfast and what letters need answering, and then - just as his erection is starting to deflate - he hears your voice:

"Hello, Mr. Werewolf! Lovely evening, isn't it?"

And there is another strong pulse between his legs. While he would love to jump through the window and run, it would be improper and rude not to greet you. With a disturbing mental image of his grandfather bathing in his mind to cool him down, he turns to greet you: "Indeed, and you are..."

But he trails off. You've never looked as beautiful, so elegant. The cut on your dress is so deep he can enjoy your every curve and birthmark. He hopes he will be able to memorize all of them, like constellations. And your skin is so flushed and glowy he can barely stop himself from touching your cheeks, shoulders, or... He swallows hard.

You notice his terrified expression and can't help but giggle a bit. He, on the other hand, is not entertained even the slightest. "I apologize, my lady, I must... get a breath of fresh air!" And he hastily leaves you.

You hide your smile behind your fan and follow his trail carefully.

***

He has to do something! The cage... It's too tight! As he hides inside the hedge maze, he runs to the fountain that was standing just around the corner, hoping that the rush of water will hide his torture. He unbuttons his trousers and is not surprised to see his manhood swollen and pulsating between the metal sheets. The pain is mixed with a strange dose of pleasure edged with anticipation. Even though some other time he might've enjoyed exploring this sensation, now is definitely not a good moment. He needs to get rid of this self-imposed prison before he hurts himself more, but... he left the key... at home.

An exasperated sigh is all he can do right now. And thinking about dead puppies to somehow reduce the painful swelling. 

Just as his mental torture is starting to work, he smells something. Something sweet, potent, and familiar. So familiar. His erection re-emerges. Desperately, he turns around, attempting to hide his shame, and pushes himself (and the cage) into the hedges. He must look absolutely ridiculous.

"Oh my, you're here. Are you well?"

It is you. You followed him here. He takes a deep breath and smiles over his shoulder. "Y-yes, perfectly fine. I just needed some fresh air."

You approach his long tail, admiring his broad back and inhuman muscles. He is very tense - and you think you know why. "I'm sure the air will smell a lot fresher outside those hedges."

The tension struck his spine like lightning - he stands upright, not breathing. He knows he can't keep hiding. Hoping - praying - his shame is not so obvious.

He turns toward you, with a stiff and awkward smile, holding one of his huge hands over his crotch, trying to look relaxed. "Indeed... It's a lot f-fresher."

You can't actually look down since your curiosity would be too obvious then. Luckily, he is towering over you so his abdomen is leveled with your face, and it takes only a deep curtsy to see what you have been curious about since the day you met him. Only to not see what you expected. But you're sure his hand is hiding something scandalous? And delicious.

"Did your claws grow?" you ask him innocently.

The naïve werewolf lifts his hands to check them, uncovering his crotch. There is definitely an interesting and twitching bulge there.

"I don't think so. Are you... worried?" His yellow eyes grow in worry. "I would never lay a finger on you!"

You hum as if you are terribly bored. "Oh. That's a shame."

The beast in front of you looks entirely confused, the poor thing. "Shame?"

You approach him slowly, like you're dancing, and his eyes don't leave your figure. "I would love a bit more than a finger on me. Perhaps an entire hand." You cup his heavy, hairy hand. You feel exceptionally bold - there won't be many opportunities like this in your future. Only a boring life awaits you - if you allow that. "All over me, in fact."

[ part 2 ]

[livwritessometimes]

loml - Max Verstappen

: Max Verstappen x Singer!reader

: Max and Y/n’s relationship was legendary…but it also was momentary

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - After every fic i feel like wow this is the longest fic i have ever written...ya this! is probably the longest fic i have ever written!!

…

(set in 2018)

Yourname added to their story!

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| maxverstappen1 replied to your story

-> 💙

*liked by Yourname*

maxverstappen1 added to their story!

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| Yourname replied to your story

-> P1 Lesgoooooo 🙌🏻

| User34 replied to your story

-> it’s so nice to see you get the recognition you deserve <3

*liked by maxverstappen1*

Y/n was standing near the Red Bull garage when she spotted Max returning for his interviews. Without a second thought, she launched herself into his arms.

“Ahhhhh, I’m so proud of you!!! I feel like I haven’t said that enough,” she smiled as she pulled away from him. “You have, but it’s okay. I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that,” Max said as he looked at her as if her eyes held all the stars in the sky.

Max was aware that by now they would have cameras on them; the Red Bull team loved to capture any interaction between the couple. Ignoring all of that, Max pulled her close and kissed her.

For Y/n, all of this was very new; her last relationship hadn't been this public. The privacy of it all was something that was exciting at first, but after a while, it felt suffocating. When she met Max, she felt aglow like she had never felt before. It was only a matter of time before she knew that Max was the one for her.

And it wasn't easy; they were both slowly gaining more recognition, and people were ready to pick them apart. But as she watched Max celebrate his first Grand Prix win of the season in Austria, all the struggles felt worth the effort.

maxverstappen1 added to their story!

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"I have a story to tell you regarding the last song of the night," said Y/n as the crowd erupted in cheers. She smiled brightly before continuing, "A few years ago, I did not believe in love, not in the way I do now. Have you guys ever met someone who feels so right that all you want is to be close to him forever and ever?"

"Being with them feels like breathing, like something you've done your whole life. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Lover," Y/n said as she made eye contact with Max. Slowly, the intro starts playing, but all Max could look at was Y/n, in all her element, looking back at him.

If the world were to end tomorrow, Max would have died a happy man. Lost in their little universe, the two failed to notice all the fans that captured this beautiful moment between the couple. Racing can take up a lot of Max's time, and he's not proud of the fact that a lot of times it comes at the stake of their relationship. But right here, right now, all he could focus on was Y/n.

Yourname added to their story!

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| maxverstappen1 replied to your story

-> 💕

Yourname: I'm so happy that you were able to make it!! thank you so much for coming, it means a lot to me Max <3

-> Ofc Liefde, I had some time off thought I'd drop by

| User55 replied to your story

-> it is so nice to see Max at your concert!!! your entire face lit up when you saw him, i hope you guys stay like this forever ✨

*liked by Yourname*

liked by maxverstappen and 84,946 others

👤: maxverstappen1

Yourname: So proud of how far we’ve come, Maxiee!!! From being just a bunch of kids who wanted to make a name for themselves and achieve their goals to finally living their dream life, I couldn’t have done it without you by my side 💖

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maxverstappen1: Couldn't have done it without you as well Schat 💙

*liked by Yourname*

bffname: Cuties!!! Can't wait to meet you guys <3

*liked by Yourname, maxverstappen1*

The entire party, all Y/n could do was check her phone. She felt guilty; it was bffname's day, and it was supposed to be special, yet here she was feeling sad for herself. From the corner of her eye, bffname could see Y/n in the corner of the room, nursing her 4th drink of the night.

"You can leave, you know. I won't feel bad," said bffname. Y/n looked up from her phone immediately, as if she were caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. "No, no, it's not like that. I want to be here; it's your 23rd birthday; I wouldn't miss it for the world," said Y/n. "You know you can fool anyone you want, but you can never fool me. I know you like the back of my hand," said bffname. "If you want to go to Max, it's okay; you being able to make it was more than enough."

Y/n felt her eyes tearing up a little; even after being a horrible friend, bffname was still understanding. "I'm so sorry; I have been a shitty friend, and yet you are here checking on me rather than celebrating," Y/n said as she finally felt a few droplets stream down her face.

"See, I know that you and Max haven't been in the best place, but it's okay. I know it's scary; you have been with him for so long that even the idea of losing him is scary," bffname said as she wiped a few tears off of Y/n's face. "Just don't lose yourself while trying to save your relationship."

liked by User11 and 38,372 others

👤: maxverstappen1, Yourname

F1gossip: Red Bull driver Max Verstappen and singer/songwriter Y/n L/n were seen fighting outside by some of the paps. It was noticed that Verstappen had come to pick up L/n from a party (Bffname Bfflastname's birthday celebration). The two were seen arguing, and it is even believed that L/n was under the influence of alcohol. Verstappen was seen comforting L/n, but much to his attempts, L/n was not budging. Later on, Verstappen was seen shouting at L/n. It ended with Verstappen getting in the car and storming off, leaving a teary-eyed L/n behind. It is believed that the couple might have called it quits after dating for 2 years. This news has not been confirmed by either Verstappen or L/n. Check out our website for more updates on the Verstappen-L/n fight.

view all 31,286 comments

User75: Nooo whyyyy???? they were so happy tho...

-> User09: ikrrr bffname had commented on yourname's post too! She was so excited to meet them. What happened?

User20: I'm not believing any of this until I see either of them confirm the breakup. They are happily dating, and this never happened ^^

-> User11: @/User20 check twt

(set in 2019)

liked by User32 and 51,329 others

👤: maxverstappen1, Yourname

F1gossip: 6 months after their breakup, Max Verstappen and Y/n L/n were spotted together in Miami. The two seemed to be having a good time at the beach under the warm Miami sun. A close source to Verstappen reveals that the two have been seeing each other for a few months now. This is the first time the pair were spotted together after their public breakup. Both Verstappen and L/n have been doing well in their career paths ever since their breakup. Verstappen has won 2 Grand Prix so far and has seen a massive improvement in this performance as compared to last year, whereas L/n has recently released her 3rd studio album, with all the songs making it into the Billboard Hot 100. Only time will tell whether the two are in it for the long run or whether they call it quits again.

view all 43,894 comments

User02: I'M NO LONGER A CHILD OF DIVORCE 🙌🏻

-> User59: I just hope they make it work this time!!!

User76: Not to be like that, but this will either give us the best love song of the summer or the most gut-wrenching song ever to exist

Y/n smiled as she put her phone down and looked back at Max. Both of them had decided to take a quick trip to Miami. "Do you think we'll have kids?" Max asked so nonchalantly that Y/n had to ask again to make sure she heard him right, "What?" "Do you think we'll have kids later on in life?" Max repeated. "I think I would like to have a girl," Max continued as he looked out at the sea. Amused, Y/n asked, "Oh, really? and why is that?" "I feel like a girl is easy to manage; you know, there are less chances that she'll end up like me," Max said before adding, "Plus, she'll look like you, so you know she is gonna have everyone wrapped around her little finger."

Max looked back at Y/n with a cheeky smile to see her already looking back at him with a look that conveyed nothing but pure love. "I think you'd be a great dad; even if we have a son, and if he becomes even half the man you are, then we did a great job raising him," Y/n said as she ran her hands through Max's hair. "I've not had the best example growing up; I mean, I know my dad wasn't the best, but had he not made all the sacrifices he did back then, I would not have been here. 'Max Verstappen, Star of Red Bull' I would have been a loser," Max said as he closed his eyes, soaking in his surroundings. It felt nice, peaceful even, being away from everything.

"A loser who I'd still love," Y/n said as she pulled Max closer. "Even if you do not have anything with you, you will always have me," she added. "Oh, don't you worry about that; I plan on keeping you by my side forever," Max said. "You just wait till I put a ring on that finger; after that, you can't leave me, even if you wanted to," he added. "I wouldn't dream of it," Y/n said before getting up and running towards the water. Their laughter filled the air as Max got up and chased after her, pulling her into the water with him.

Yourname added to their story!

(Cat's out of the bag I guess 🤭)

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| maxverstappen1 replied to your story

-> 💙

*liked by Yourname*

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| maxverstappen1 replied to your story

-> 💪🏻💪🏻

*liked by redbullracing*

Max should be happy; he should feel all the joy in the world; he finished 3rd in the standings after all, yet the smile did not reach his eyes. He looked around the party thrown to celebrate his and the team's victory and saw Y/n talking to one of the engineers. Max couldn't help but let the bittersweet thought take over his mind. He hated himself for thinking these things, but ever since he got back with Y/n, his season hasn't been goin- "She seems nice, Y/n, I mean," breaking his chain of thoughts, Max looked at his father. "Huh, oh ya," said Max as he took a sip of his drink.

"But she's not right for you; before you got back with her, everything was going in your favor, and look at you now; you're 3rd on the list. You can do better, Max," said Jos as he went to talk to other people at the party. Max hated his father for being critical about his relationship, but he hated himself more because he himself had thought about this.

So one cancelled date becomes two, and before Max knew it, he was constantly blowing off Y/n. In fact, if he comes to think of it, this is probably the first time the two have been out together in a month. So lost in his thought, Max did not notice a sad Y/n slipping from the party.

liked by User90 and 63,493 others

👤: Yourname, maxverstappen1

F1gossip: Is it finally over between Verstappen and L/n? Y/n L/n was seen leaving the Red Bull celebration a little early. The singer seemed to be upset as she left the building. One of the workers at the party informed us that the two did not spend much time together. Verstappen and L/n, who have not been spotted out in public in a month, were seen entering the party together a few hours ago, and that was the last of it. We got information from a close source to the couple that things have been rocky between the two. According to the source, Verstappen considers his relationship with L/n a distraction, which led to him not performing to the best of his abilities after the summer break. Verstappen has only won one Grand Prix ever since L/n confirmed that the two were back together via an Instagram Story. It seems like it is finally time to bury the hatchet in the Verstappen-L/n love story.

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User23: Honestly their constant on and off is annoying at this point, like make up your mind already ffs

User99: I mean, it's not like Max is wrong...ever since they got back together, he hasn't been doing his best, and that is pretty evident

(set in 2020)

Y/n knew that this was wrong. She knows that she can't keep running back to Max after he shows up, making the same promises again and again. At this point, Y/n can probably narrate it in her sleep: "I promise I'll change," "We are meant to be," "You're the love of my life; I can't lose you." Yet she believed him every single time. How could she not? They have been through so much together. How could she let go of all this history because things have been rocky between them?

Lost in her trail of thoughts, Y/n did not realize that she had reached the venue. It was when she felt her side of the door open that she looked up to find a dazzling Max looking back at her. He was glowing; having just won the 70th anniversary GP, Max looked like he would burst from happiness. Y/n couldn't help but match his smile.

They both slowly made their way through the red carpet, posing for pictures. As they reached the entrance, she felt Max fidgeting. "What's wrong?" she asked as she reached for his hand. Max laced his finger with her before saying, "Nothing; it's just that this is my first win of the season. I thought that this year would have been my year, but would you look at how it all turned out to be?" Y/n nodded at Max to continue, "I never thought I would spend so much time at home because of the pandemic, and I never thought that all that time alone would make me realize how much I have missed you," Max said before looking at Y/n. "Every second without you feels like I'm suffocating; you're like a breath of fresh air. Every time I look at you, I feel like all the stars in the sky are nothing compared to you," said Max as he caressed Y/n's cheek.

Y/n didn't know how to describe this feeling. Standing in front of her was a boy she had known for a long time, a boy who always wanted to prove his worth to his father, a boy who sacrificed so much to achieve his dreams, a boy who was simply madly in love with her.

liked by maxverstappen and 112,371 others

👤: maxverstappen1

Yourname: ...and at every table, I'll save you a seat 💙

view all 89,097 comments

maxverstappen1: I love you

-> Yourname: I love you too Max

User77: Y/n I love you sweetheart, but noooo why are you back with Max

-> User62: shut up! you're just jealous of what they have

-> User77: tf no, I am concerned about her! Every time they get back together, I feel like Y/n looks less and less happy

-> User22: can we stop all of this and just appreciate how hot they both look 🔥

liked by User71 and 72,391 others

👤: maxverstappen1, redbullracing

F1: Max Verstappen out of the Sakhir Grand Prix on lap 1. Trying to avoid Sergio Perez, who was hit by Charles Leclerc at turn 4, Verstappen ended up on the gravel, crashing into the tire barrier. This is the 4th time this season Verstappen has not been able to finish a race. With one race left, Verstappen's chances of winning the world championship seem a little out of reach at the moment. We can only hope for the best for the Dutchman.

view all 68,523 comments

User71: Then you guys say that him getting back with Y/n has nothing to do with his performance!!

-> User04: Shut up that has got nothing to do with Y/n

-> User71: whatever you say 🤷🏻‍♀️ the evidence is right there but okay ignorance is bliss i guess

liked by User22 and 90,272 others

👤: Yourname, maxverstappen1

F1gossip: All's well that ends well, but not for Y/n L/n. It seems like Max Verstappen has finally ended things for good between the both of them. This news comes after L/n was seen leaving their shared apartment with boxes of her belongings. The two have also since unfollowed each other on Instagram. Although many members of the Red Bull team, including team principal Christian Horner and wife Geri Halliwell, still continue to follow the singer, it is safe to say that their ship has officially sailed. Check out our website to see their entire relationship timeline.

view all 84,320comments

User22: Not the admin using lyrics from Lover

-> User48: I was thinking the same thing, like, "All's well that ends well to end up with you" i- 😀

User01: FINALLYYY I'm telling you all next year is gonna be Max's year!! I CAN FEEL IT!!!!

(set in 2021)

liked by maxverstappen1 and 892,620 others

👤: maxverstappen1, kellypiquet

redbullracing: OUR CHAMPION!!! LET'S GO MAX 🦁🏆

view all 231,494 comments

User01: I TOLD YOU ALL IT WAS GONNA BE MAX'S YEAR!!! HE FINALLY WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP 🏆🏆

*liked by redbullracing*

User11: I'm really happy for Max, but did he just confirm his relationship with Kelly Piquet!!! who, may I add, has a CHILD!!!!!!!

-> User67: Ikrrrrr like I'm sorry, but he was with Y/n for such a long time, and now he has a new girl and a child in his life??? This was supposed to be him and Y/n!!!!

liked by User88 and 89,638 others

👤: Yourname, maxverstappen1

F1gossip: Y/n L/n was spotted outside for the first time since the news of Max Verstappen dating Brazilian model Kelly Piquet came out. L/n was seen sitting alone in a park, drinking beer. It is believed that this park was one that Verstappen and L/n used to visit a lot with Verstappen's cats. Many bystanders have said that the singer looked lost in her thoughts as she continued sipping her drink. It seems that everyone had believed the two would be back together by the end of the season when pictures of Verstappen with a mysterious woman surfaced, but much to everyone's surprise, the woman in the pictures is now believed to be Piquet. I guess we can say with certainty that Verstappen-L/n has officially come to an end.

view all 68,938 comments

User03: Why are you so obsessed with Y/n? it's so annoying. They broke up; let her be!!

User56: Ofc she's salty now that Max has a good woman by his side. She'll just do about anything to get his attention, wouldn't she?

liked by bffname and 165,872 others

Yourname: I had taken some time off from everything - my music, my fans, my friends, even my family. I was at a place where I felt something I had never felt before. People tell you that there will come a time in everyone's life where you will feel absolutely lost, like you don't know what to do with your life now, and it is very easy to say that with time you'll get through it and find your way again. What everyone fails to mention is how lonely this time will feel. You have people who love you and want the best for you, yet you can't seem to get out of this hole you have dug up for yourself. Taking a break and going back to where I started my journey made me realize why I do what I do. I have never needed songwriting more than I did during this period of time. As I write this, I finally realize that this chapter of my life is over. I have no wounds that I need to heal, no bridges that I want to burn. As of today, I set this song free. It was mine once, and it's yours now. loml out at midnight.

view all 101,728 comments

User55: Y/n wtffffff I was not prepared for this!!!!! Girl it's 2 PM YOU CAN'T JUST DROP THIS AND EXPECT ME TO BE FINE!!

bffname: I am so proud of you!!! words can't sum up how much I adore the person you have become 💕

*liked by Yourname*

User91: waitttt is this about her situation with Max???

-> User40: I mean must be! who else would she be referring to as love of my life??

-> User91: true

liked by bffname and 201,826 others

Yourname: I would like to thank all of my fans for the immense support they have shown me. Your kind words mean the world to me. Thank you for always accepting me the way I am and sticking with me, for better and for worse. I had the time of my life playing for you guys. I can't wait for more shows in the future 🩵

view all 121,455 comments

User32: I still can't get over loml!!! what do you mean by "A con-man sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme"

-> User13: Are we gonna ignore "What we thought was for all time was momentary"!!!!!!!! I feel like someone stabbed me in my gallbladder and then poured detergent over it 🫨

User40: What do you mean by loml - love loss of my life 💔

User28: "Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire. Your arson's match, your somber eyes And I'll still see it until I die" that is because that dream is dead now :(

-> User13: They talked about having kids one day!!! and now he gets to live that life with someone else 🥲

-> User66: Y/n I hate the fact that you had to go through this. My ex passed away before we could start a life together. It sucks when you plan your entire future with someone and then they're just not there. And now it's just you, alone, in the house of your dreams that you both built for yourselves. I wish you all the strength and happiness that there is in this world!! 🤍

[little-fae-hero]

Linked Universe, The Hero of War

My headcanons/aus

Art by Atro

Colored version.

Long talk/Ideas under the cut, warning for implied self-harm and intentional scarring. (Note: I may add stuff over time, but nothing will be deleted from the list)

Twilight. Wind. Time. Hyrule. Four. Sky. Legend. Wild.

Warriors (Hyrule Warriors): Other nicknames: The Captain, Knight, Pretty boy, Flirt, One-Man army, Scarface.

Titles: The Hero of Hyrule, the Hero of the Era of War, The Gerudo’s prince, The Blood-stain General.

God who has claim over his soul: Demise (Because of the blessing from Ganondorf)

Part of First’s soul: Leadership

Note: Because of how much his war affected time and all that, he has met many different versions of the hero and looked after them (pretty much babysitting them). He’s also fought enemies he shouldn’t have and been to corrupt places, so he knows a little bit about everything.

History (note connecting to an au so most not canon):

Link was abandoned in the desert because he was a bastard, he ended up being adopted by Ganondorf the leader of the Gerudo. This Ganondorf knows the history of Hyrule but doesn’t want to be a destructive force, just wants his people to stay safe and alive. Ganon wants to be good, and makes a promise to himself by looking after the child he later calls his son. He eventually learns his son carries the Triforce of Courage, but doesn’t care, just wants to prove himself. 

Ganondorf is sort of warlike, mainly because his desert keeps getting attacked by outside nations and he’s trying to protect it. War grows up learning all different types of weapons, planning attacks and all that, but still always being protected by his father.

Eventually the malice was too much for Ganondorf, so Ganon sent War away, hoping he could have a good life before Ganondorf went to the Guardian of Time and pleaded with her to break apart and seal his soul.

Link is left in hyrule, his voice sealed away. Eventually he joins the army of hyrule as it’s really the only place that will take in someone like him, an orphan with no voice. Eventually the war starts, and it is revealed that he has the Triforce of Courage. He’s put in charge as the battle continues before Cia reveals hers, saying she is working for someone with the promise that Link will be hers. Eventually Cia is defeated however Ganondorf is now back.

Link tried to get his father to go back to normal, however it doesn’t work so Link was force to kill him, which only allow Ganondorf with his mind back, to plead and apologize to his son.

Link soon took on the persona of a flirty pretty boy, mainly as a way of coping. He also ends up carving up his face, because of what Cia would do just to get that pretty face. Right now he is Zelda’s right hand man and adviser.

Death: Unknown…..

Interesting stuff/Headcanons:

War’s love language has always been physically touch, the feeling of holding someone or being held and knowing you are safe.

He carved up his face after everything, mainly fearing that someone else would be after him, might as well damage what started the war.

He started the persona of the flirty pretty boy to survive in the army, most don’t know his true self besides the links, Zelda, Impa and Linkle.

Any romantic relationship he had with Zelda fizzled out when Cia happened.

War had deep seeded trust issues considering how many of his ‘friends’ were all in favor of tossing him to Cia to end the war.

War turned the flirting to girls during the war up it as a big ‘screw you’ to Cia.

War is ace, specifically a sex repulsed ace.

Ganondorf was somewhat paranoid about people taking his son away, so he trained War to be able to use any weapon he got his hands on.

He even taught him how to fight without one or turn your environment into a weapon.

This very much contrasted later as he refused to allow War to get involved when conflict happened, he had to stay in the palace where it was safe and figure out strategies.

War always had a stupid number of weapons on him. Many are hidden of course.

Even when sleeping he at least has three blades in reaching distance.

Because of what happened with his father, War always has a plan on what would've happened if one of his friends got possessed and what he could do to save them.

He also watches for weak points in others mostly to help them improve.

War thinks about battle and war in a terrifying mix of courage, wisdom and power, knowing where to strike and how to be effective with it.

Has a natural parenting instinct from babysitting young ones, both at home and from the war.

Typically wraps and tucks his scarf around his waist so it can’t be grabbed and actually choke him in battle.

He actually has Ice and Fire magic, because of a blessing from his grandmothers, it’s just not his preferred way of fighting.

Plus, it makes him weaker to the opposite element, it’s why fire from the dragon knight scarred and hurt more than normal.

Has a lot of manners from the gerudo (like why he had no problem with Zelda/Impa in charge), it’s just no one knows about the gerudo tribe in his world to notice.

Monsters either target War or hesitate to attack him, he uses this to his advantage.

War can play music on an Ocarina but can’t sing to save his life. (Correction, he can sing, it’s just gerudo sounding and most don’t like it)

He is like a field medic, he knows how to save a life, but it won’t be comfortable.

The only person who knows who War’s father is, was Mask. Mask didn’t seem to judge War for it but was super angry at Ganon.

War doesn’t allow himself to express emotions outside the select ones for his ‘persona’.

So, if stuff gets really bad, he needs to scream or cry, he goes to somewhere completely hidden and breaks down (he knows this isn’t healthy, but he doesn’t care).

War is attached to the scarf because it reminds him of the fabric he wore at home, the one which was insisted on to protect his skin from the sun.

War has a screwed-up sleep schedule. He often takes a second shift and then just doesn’t wake up the others and continues the watch. 

He still has a necklace from his father, which his dad promised was laced with magic and would protect him. Despite how many times War tried to get rid of it, he can’t.

Sometimes gerudo words will slip in when he’s talking, most just think it’s a mistake.

War ‘hobbies’ are typically cleaning armor and sharpening weapons. However, he can use his magic to make little ice statues.

He has flashbacks, where he relives memories and battles. There not as bad as Wild sense he can be brought out of them, however there is a chance he could react violently.

Confined spaces can really set this off as he was captured by Cia for a short time.

He’s the closest and trusts Time/Mask the most, there are no secrets between them.

War acts almost like a drill sergeant in battles at times, no one dares go against his orders (this is after he got his voice back).

----

War is done, as you can see he is heavily based off my ‘Like father, like son’ au. The boy isn’t canon which means I can do whatever I want. Let me know your thoughts.

[utterlyotterlyx]

Can you do a Azriel request where Azriel exaggerating a bruise his mate got during training to be worse than it is and needing bed rest because he wants to cuddle/kiss but still hasn’t figured out how to ask for cuddles since they’ve been friends for centuries but newly accepted their mate bond?

Sparks

Summary - An injury during training with Cassian ends with Azriel fussing over you, but as always with Azriel, he has another motive.

Warnings - none really, mentions of injury, slight angst, welcome to fluff junction

If anyone would have told Azriel when he had first met you that you would end up as his mate, he would have laughed in their faces.

There were no two people as different as you and Azriel, he was a brooding thing and you were like fresh morning sunshine, opposite in every way imaginable. It also didn't help that he found your stubborn nature to be quite the nuisance.

Those feelings didn't linger long however, you had some strange ability to make those around you feel at ease, perhaps it was your charm or how your eyes sparkled whenever someone spoke to you about something important to them. It didn't take Azriel long at all to become one of the many people who sought comfort in your words, much to the delight of Rhys who always sternly told him to be nicer to you.

Azriel couldn't remember the precise moment he had met you for the first time, he was sure it had been Selene to introduce the two of you, and when she died Rhys had moved you into the River House and you had quite quickly become a pillar of the Inner Circle. Wise. Kind. Truthful.

A force to be reckoned with.

What Azriel could remember however was the moment the bond had snapped for him.

There was a special spot that you often went to when you wanted to be alone, a certain balcony that lay beyond the stained glass doors of Selene's room, a place you had used to sit with her during the night, where you'd either sit in silence and gaze at the stars, or talk about anything that you wished. Selene was your best friend, you had also lost a sister that day.

That evening, as the sun was about to draw the curtains to another performance, when the sky was painted in burnt orange and purple, did Azriel find you there. A gentle song was drifting from your lips from where you sat on a deep set chair, wrapped up in one of Selene's blankets and gazing so far away that Azriel had thought that you were peering into the past. Something about it held his attention, the way that your eyes had softened, how your hair drifted in the gentle breeze, how the sun made your eyes shine like rare diamonds and the way you held yourself for comfort.

It had snapped when he had mistakenly made a noise, being too entranced by you to be careful about where he was stepping, and you had turned your head to see who was in Selene's space with you. The sun was causing you to glow, it hugged the side of your face, and the way you had whispered his name made his entire world spin.

The bond hadn't snapped for you though, you had simply asked him what he was doing and if he wanted to join you. Which he did without hesitation. That night you had both talked through the hours, too entwined with one another to realise the sun peeking through the horizon to welcome another day.

Months had passed and you still had no idea about the bond, and unfortunately it had snapped for you at the worst possible time. When Azriel had been slung over Rhys' shoulder, badly injured, and you had rushed into the room to help Madja only to feel an onslaught of pain the moment the bond blossomed and connected your souls together.

A single look was all Azriel needed to know that it had snapped, the wide eyes of terror and worry and the drifting fingers over the skin where your heart lay.

I'm going to kick your ass for this when you can stand.

Tears had brimmed in your eyes the moment he had laughed at your quip, and then winced from the pain. You had fell to his side, running your fingers through his matted hair, telling him that you weren't going anywhere whilst Madja put him back together.

Azriel had woken in his bed to you curled into his side with your arm flung over his torso, and as soon as he moved an inch, you were awake and alert asking him if he needed anything to which he said he only needed you.

Ever since you'd been rather inseparable.

So when Azriel had felt that jolt of pain throbbing at his shoulder and the emotions to go along with it, he had taken off running to the House of Wind, leaving a rather bewildered Feyre alone in the bakery with bags of pastries that he was meant to bring back to you to halt your incessant begging for them.

Landing at the House of Wind, his shadows whispered to him where you were and he took off in that direction, following the trails of your scent before walking into the brick wall known as Rhys, "Where is she? What happened?"

Rhys lay a consoling hand on his shoulder, the same one that was throbbing and twisting with discomfort, "She's fine, Az," Rhys told him, his violet gaze burning into the Shadowsinger to make sure that he understood. Azriel loosened a breath and waited for Rhys to continue despite the itching need to find you, "She was training with Cassian, he was a bit rough with her and dislocated her shoulder. Madja is with her now."

As if on cue, a soft groan emitted from down the hall and Azriel moved around Rhys to follow it, peering into each room along the way until his eyes landed on you.

Sweat coated your brow, you had tugged your bottom lip between your teeth to stop your whimpering as Madja held your arm in her hands. A low growl rumbled in his chest, his sight moved to Cassian at your side who looked at him with wide eyes, "Az, I didn't mean to hurt her," Cassian knew how protective Azriel was of you, and since the bond had been newly requited, Cassian also knew how much Azriel was dying to tear him apart in that moment.

To Azriel, Cassian was not his friend in that moment, he was the one who had hurt his mate, his reason for living, and it was making him seethe.

"Az?" A weak voice called to him and Cassian stepped aside to display you fully to him, "It's my fault, I thought I could take a bit more force."

The shadows darted from his shoulders, soaring through the air to pepper your face with comfort and love, slithering through your hair and floating atop your injured shoulder.

Cassian scratched the back of his neck, "I did body slam you into the ground, y/n."

"You body slammed her into the ground?"

Closing your eyes and inhaling deeply, you then glanced to Cassian, face deadpan and stoic, "I'm trying to save your ass from a beating here, Cass."

"Right, I'll just go. You've got it from here, Az?"

A stupid question.

Azriel's burning gaze didn't move from Cassian as he slipped from the room, then all of his attention fell onto you. The Shadowsinger knelt at your side, brushing his thumb over your cheek where the skin had been stained from your tears, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," you strained, "It's just uncomfortable. You came at the perfect time, Madja was just about to pop it back in," you said with a nervous smile directed to the healer who was paying little notice to the two of you.

Unease and nerves flew down the bond and Azriel clasped your fingers around his, "Squeeze it as hard as you need to. I can take it."

"I thought I could too," you grinned and shuffled into an upright position, bracing yourself against his body and gulping down deep breaths, "I'm sorry if I scared you."

With the bond being so new with so much to be explored, Azriel wasn't sure of what you needed. Sure, he had taken care of you during your cycle, he knew that you were affectionate and loved to be held, but it was always you that crawled onto his lap and wrapped your arms around him whenever you needed some contact. Azriel was a touch-starved thing, and he didn't know how to ask for your affection because he was so used to not having any at all and was afraid that you'd deny him.

Now he had the perfect excuse.

Once Madja had twisted your shoulder back into place, an action that made you yelp and groan to the point Azriel had felt his blood boil when looking to the healer, she wrapped it up in a sling and advised that you be on bed rest until it had fully set and healed, which would only take a couple of days.

"Can I take her home?" Madja rolled her eyes playfully and uttered her approval, and Azriel wasted no time in scooping you into his arms, smirking at your glare, "Madja said to rest, so no walking for you."

"My legs don't hurt, Az."

"I don't care," you shouldn't have been complaining really, it was nice to be the one being held for a change, and it was nice that Azriel had made the move to touch you.

It wasn't like you never cuddled or spent days in bed with one another, you had spent many days in his bed with your limbs entwined with his lips searching every single inch of your skin. But when it came to simple acts of affection, Azriel was lost, and it was obvious that he didn't know how to show affection outside of the bedroom.

Landing at the River House, you pleaded with Azriel to put you down, assuring him that you could walk on your own, but he refused, and continued to refuse you as he carried you through the house and up the stairs which led to your shared bedroom.

It was Azriel's really, but he put up quite a fuss after the bond had snapped and you had little choice in the matter. Azriel did have the largest and comfiest bed, confirmed after you had tested every single bed in the house before coming to the conclusion, and all you did was bring your feminine flair to the space and your copious amount of clothes.

Azriel placed you on the edge of the bed, pressing his lips to yours and mumbling, "I'll be right back," he left your lips needing more and you watched him retreat to the bathroom, a squeak of the taps and rushing water sounded and you shuddered with happiness when Azriel reappeared, "Let's get you out of these clothes," clothes that were sweaty and dusted with dirt from the training grounds.

Working carefully, Azriel helped you out of your leathers, he gently lifted the shirt around your injured shoulder and aided you in stepping out of your pants, folding them neatly on the ottoman at the foot of the bed.

The water was the perfect temperature for you and your body disappeared under the bubbles as Azriel lowered you into the tub, stripping his own clothes from his body and stepping in to nestle into the spot behind you and sliding his arms around you, resting your head against his chest and rubbing circles into your skin.

Wincing, you angled yourself, and you weren't able to stop the laugh spurting from your lips when Azriel said, "I'm going to make Cassian cry tomorrow," you sat upright and peered over your shoulder at him.

Azriel didn't meet your eyes, instead he was focusing on his fingers playing with the ends of your dampened hair; his bare chest glistened in the light, his muscles contorted with tense anger, and his jaw ticked. He welcomed the new position you created, wrapping your legs around his torso and pressing your chest up against his; bubbles swarmed around you and you sighed with content when his fingers ran through your hair and down your spine, when his lips peppered along your collarbone.

"What if I need you with me tomorrow?" Azriel straightened, eagerly, and leaned into you, his hands falling on the small of your back, "To take care of me?"

Those hazel orbs brightened, "I'll do whatever you need me to do," a new bond or not, you knew that there was nothing that Azriel wouldn't do for you, "I'll glue myself to you if that will make you feel better."

Through giggles you spoke, "As lovely as that sounds, Az," you brushed a strand of hair from his eyes, "Being in your arms is where I want to be, more for you if anything."

Azriel frowned, "What do you mean?"

"You've been awfully touchy today."

Sitting up a little straighter, "You're hurt," you quirked a brow and he knew from the gentle smirk on your lips that you knew full well what he was doing, and he cracked under the pressure, "Maybe I just wanted an excuse to dote on you a little bit."

Bingo.

Leaning closer to him, being careful of your shoulder, you hovered just in front of his face, noses almost touching, "You don't need an excuse to dote on me, Az. I know it's difficult for you to show affection, but you'll get used to it. If you ever want to kiss me or hold my hand or cuddle me, just do it, you never need to-"

Azriel cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, it was something he had done countless times before, but it felt different, like he was finally embracing the bond enough to stop hiding his love for you. Fingers at the back of your neck, Azriel smirked against your lips, at the fact you hadn't released a breath yet, and then pulled away, "Like that?"

"Yeah, just like that," your voice was a hush above a whisper, "Do more of that."

Grinning, Azriel purred, "Yeah?"

"Mhm," you nodded eagerly, wondering how in the world your mate was so perfect and alluring.

If Selene could see you now, happily mated to Azriel the Shadowsinger, ready to embark on the wild ride of life... you were sure she would have been thrilled about it actually.

Noticing your mind wander, Azriel cupped your cheek, "Where have you gone?"

It's what he always asked when your mind drifted elsewhere, you had told him it was never just a thought, but an image, a memory, so he had stopped asking what you were thinking about but rather where you had gone to.

"To Selene," he pulled you closer to him, running his thumb across your lips, "Do you think she would have been happy about us?"

"Are you happy?" Connecting your eyes, you nodded, softly, "Then yes, she would have been very happy. It was all she ever wanted for you, an all-consuming love and a life of happiness."

The inevitable day of your mating ceremony was bound to happen in the coming months, and whilst you were excited for it and everything that it meant for you and Azriel, the thought of it saddened you, because the one person you had grown up with speaking of marriage and children at least once a week was no longer by your side.

"Do you know how much I love you?"

Azriel had always been good at pulling you from your thoughts, you focused on him, the love of your life, and replied, "I think so, but it wouldn't hurt to hear it again."

After throwing his head back to the edge of the tub with laughter, he settled, "I swear that I couldn't love you more than I do right now, but I know that I will tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. My love for you will never stop growing." Azriel held your face in his hands, stroking the hair from your face, "The sky has nothing on you, my love, you surround my world. You are my world."

Tendrils of shadow moved from his shoulders, peeping over them, flowing down his body into the water and spreading across your thighs. You rested your forehead against his, "You are my home, Az."

With a gentle kiss, Azriel lifted you from the tub, he wrapped a towel around your body and helped you into one of his shirts that engulfed you in the scent of him, and he waited, he waited for you to clamber into the bed and get comfortable before he found his place beside you. Like he would everyday for the rest of his life.

Authors Note

Bath time Az is just ughhhhhhhh