#hold a conversation without apologizing for not knowing the other language?

[trabandovidas]

I love how Uruguayans are all like "ugh i can't understand shit in portuguese, i can't even form a proper sentence" and Brazilians are like "ugh i can't understand shit in spanish, i can't even form a proper sentence", and that is both said with frustration and the fucking deep desire to speak the other's language

But then you have this annual happening ?? where we go and take university level (!!!) classes in the other's language, and go to talks and academic conferences given entirely in the other's language and we go to the other's country and give them conferences in our language and we are all like, "ugh, ah, fuck, i can't speak shit in portuguese/ spanish, i'm so sorry i can't even form a proper sentence, I don't wish to inconvenience you, i just. can't :(" and the other one is all like "ye, ye, ye, don't worry, you just speak in your tongue, i can understand you, don't worry, i can't speak spanish/portuguese either, i don't even understand shit of it either. But i completely understand you giving me this university level class tho!, yeah no problem <3" like ???? sir???

[xmalereader]

Bruce Wayne x Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

REQUEST: Could you please write Burce wayne x male reader who has trouble ordering food. Like in a restaurant when the waiter asks, he either stutters or goes completely quiet, and that's why he asks Bruce to order for him. And i would like to see Bruce's reactions when a waiter is like "you don't have to order for him. He can order for himself. I wasn't asking you, i was asking him" just the waiter assuming that Bruce is kinda controlling. The reader is silently crying in his seat, having to order on his own, like he knows the waiter was trying to do something good. (Totally not speaking from personal experience 🤭)

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Fluff, mature language, social anxiety, Bruce is a good boyfriend, mentions of fears, judgment, request, relatable events, everyone struggles.

TAGS: @one-green-frog

WC: 1.5K

NOTES: I used to struggle with ordering food due to anxiety and fear of people judging me 😩 but as I got older they fear kind of went away and I’m able to do it with no problem but everyone deals with anxiety differently and takes time to get come it so I ain’t judging. It’s like that with my older brother he’s 26 and still makes me order for him due to his own anxiety. But hopefully you enjoyed this shot and apologize for the long wait!

Everyone has social anxiety.

Y/n struggled with it at a young age, not being taught how to speak with others in public without getting the intense fear of judgment from others. He figured that he would improve as he got older, but it didn’t change and still struggled with the simple things. He could go out and run errands alone without any struggles since majority of place now had self checkout which was a god send for many.

He’s able to hold a conversation with strangers or with people he knew in the area, but his anxiety would get to him when it came towards the simplest tasks. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was an over thinker and would think that he did something wrong or if he perhaps pronounced something incorrect, thinking that people were judging him for the smallest things. It took time for him to improve but the anxiety still remained during important moments.

One of the easiest things that many were able to accomplish is ordering food. Their were times that he hesitated or froze up when ordering his own food, having to apologize each time he orders and forcing a nervous smile or laugh in hopes of getting through the few minutes that he is there. He struggled even more when he went out on dates.

Very few people knew about his anxiety and very few friends were kind enough to do the ordering for him without hesitation and providing the assistance that he needed. With strangers it was a whole other story, he didn’t want to force them into placing his own order due to his own fear and would struggle with speaking the words.

His dates never went well after that and hated the way he felt each time he stumbled upon the problem. If the waiter or waitress wasn’t staring at him intensely he’d probably order his food without a problem and his day would go fine. But the feeling of their eyes staring at him as he looked at his choices of food made him stutter and grow nervous when ordering.

Forcing that smile as always and getting through the day of embarrassment.

If he had this kind of anxiety how was he suppose to handle his future dates when he couldn’t do a simple task? He’s able to do a whole presentation in a room full of board of directors but he stutters and hesitates when it comes towards ordering a simple meal or even asking for help whenever he’s in public.

He figured he’d spend his days locked indoors while making his own meals while watching a good movie.

He didn’t think he’d end up bagging Bruce Wayne. Gothams Golden boy.

Y/n had thought that this was all a trick or a joke when Bruce first asked him out. He wanted to laugh at the mans face and tell him that he doesn’t need to make his life miserable by playing a mean joke, only to realize that Bruce was in fact not joking around.

Y/n worked at Wayne Enterprises but in a lower department not expecting himself to bump into Bruce Wayne and getting asked out by the man himself. Their first date was simple with a cup of coffee and muffins. He would have thought that bruce would take him someplace fancy on their first date, but when he didn’t he was a bit relieved.

Bruce was a great man and didn’t do anything that made him uncomfortable. Y/n figured that he’d only get lucky to have one date with bruce and then never see them man again, only to get asked out again and again and again. The first four months went well without any problems and enjoyed his time with Bruce as their time together grew their dates slowly got fancier.

Resulting into Y/n confessing to Bruce about his anxiety and fear of others judging him because he couldn’t do a simple task that only required a few words. He thought Bruce would laugh at him or use it against him and force him to confront his fear, instead Bruce smiled at him and asked.

“Do you want me to order for you?”

He said it with the most calmest voice ever showing no hints of judgment.

Y/n wanted to cry that night. It was a simple favor, but it meant a lot to him.

As their dates continued they created a routine each time they went out to eat. Y/n would either look up the menu online ahead of time and already have his order in mind and tell bruce before getting their orders placed. Bruce even memorized the dishes that Y/n liked whenever they went to a repeated restaurant and would for him on the spot without needing to be told what he liked, already knowing the mans interests.

A year into dating and it became a normal thing between the two.

During their one year anniversary, Bruce decided to take him to a new restaurant and getting seated in a nice secluded area and away from others. Y/n scanned the menu and hums. “This looks good.” He speaks up as he checks the different dishes until one caught his eye.

“You know the rule, order whatever you want.” Said Bruce, always reminding him that he can get whatever he wanted. Y/n was hesitant about the prices at first but with time he got adjusted to the idea of Bruce paying for everything and no matter how many times he tried to pay himself, Bruce had already paid ahead of time.

“This pasta looks good.” Y/n points out on the menu and shows Bruce who looked up form his own menu and smiles. “Is that all you want?”

“Can I also get this for dessert?” He points behind the menu where a picture of a nicely desert is presented, getting Bruce to chuckle as he nods his head. “You better share with me because I already know you won’t eat it all.” Y/n laughs at his words and sets his menu down, leaning back in his seat as he looks around the restaurant and takes in the interior, distracted by the place that he doesn’t notice the waitress coming over.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Yes,” Bruce smiles at the women and starts with his order first, letting her know what he’d like. “And for you?” She turns her attention to Y/n who gets his attention pulled away from a painting he was staring at and looks at her with wide eyes. “I…”

“He’d have the pasta and the chocolate desert.” Bruce is quick to cut in when he noticed Y/n freeze up.

The waitress gives Bruce the stink eye by how he interrupts Y/n. “You don’t have to order for him. He can order for himself.” Bruce froze with wide eyes, opening and closing his mouth in shock. “I wasn’t asking you I was asking him.” She points her pencil at Y/n and puts her attention on him.

Y/n can only gap at her, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to speak but I can’t. He was caught off guard and reached out for his menu. “I’ll like…the—the…” He’s stuttering and doesn’t know what to tell her. “Do you need another minute?” She asks which only make the situation worse, he’s turning to Bruce and staring at him with eyes full of fear and hesitation silently screaming for help.

“I assure you miss my partner would like the pasta and desert.” Bruce says again in hopes of getting her to note down the order and she does, not without rolling her eyes which only makes Y/n whine.

“Your food will be ready soon.” She said while taking their menus and walking away, leaving them in silence.

Y/n lets out a deep sigh of relief. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say, she probably thinks you’re an asshole now.” He groans out while covering his face with his hands. Bruce can only chuckle while shaking his head and reaching out to grab him by the wrists. “Don’t be, not everyone knows about your fear and besides she was only doing it because she probably thought I was controlling.”

“You’re not!”

“She doesn’t know that. If I wanted to be asshole I would have yelled at her like other people do, but I’m not doing that. It was a simple misunderstanding.” Bruce reassured Y/n as he held his hand and smiles. He didn’t think that something like this would happen since they’ve never had this issue in the past at the other places that they visited.

“All you have to worry about is eating all of your food and sharing your desert.” Bruce tries to lighten up the mood which works for Y/n as he chuckled and nods his head. “Fine and then after we go home and watch a movie and not come back here again.” After this misunderstanding its most likely he doesn’t want to come back and face the same issue again.

“We stick with Jimmy’s…” He mumbled out, referring to his favorite restaurant that serviced amazing chicken wings and fries. Bruce laughs while nodding. “Next time we go out will go to Jimmy’s.” At this point they were already considered regulars that the owner memorized their orders, which made it better for Y/n.

[satellite-evans]

Pebbles of love

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Benedict and his fiancée spend a romantic day at the beach, finding pebbles that match each other's eye colors <3

Word count: 1k

Warnings: pure fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Benedict Bridgerton had always been a lover of art and beauty, and nothing in the world was more beautiful to him than his fiancée, Y/N. Today, they had planned a rare escape from the hustle and bustle of London society—a trip to the serene coastline, where they could revel in each other’s company without the watchful eyes of the ton.

The journey to the beach had been filled with lively conversation and shared laughter, their carriage rocking gently along the country roads. Benedict stole glances at Y/N as she looked out the window, the sunlight casting a warm glow on her features. Her hair, a cascade of silk, shimmered in the light, and her eyes sparkled with excitement and anticipation.

As they arrived at the beach, the salty sea breeze greeted them, tousling their hair and filling their lungs with the invigorating scent of the ocean. They discarded their shoes and socks, delighting in the sensation of the cool, damp sand beneath their feet. The beach stretched out before them, a pristine canvas of soft, golden sand and scattered pebbles, with the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

Benedict looked at Y/N, her face illuminated by the sunlight, her eyes reflecting the endless blue of the sky above. He marveled at how lucky he was to have found her. She was his muse, his inspiration, the very essence of beauty and grace. Each moment spent with her was a treasure he held close to his heart.

“This place is perfect,” Y/N said, her voice filled with awe. “I’ve always loved the sea.”

Benedict smiled, his heart swelling with love. “I thought you might,” he said. “I wanted to share something special with you, away from everything else.”

Y/N reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “You always know exactly what I need.”

They walked along the shoreline, the rhythmic sound of the waves providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. They spoke of their dreams, their future together, and the adventures they hoped to share. Benedict felt a sense of peace, a certainty that with Y/N by his side, he could face anything.

“Benedict, look at this one!” Y/N exclaimed, holding up a small, smooth pebble that glistened under the sunlight. It was a pale blue, almost the exact shade of Benedict’s eyes. She smiled, her heart swelling with the simple joy of the moment.

Benedict took the pebble from her hand, inspecting it. “It’s beautiful,” he said, his voice warm and soft. “Almost as beautiful as you.”

Y/N blushed, her cheeks a lovely shade of pink that Benedict found utterly enchanting. “Well, aren't you a charmer,” she said, though her smile betrayed her pleasure at his compliment.

“I try my best,” Benedict replied, slipping the pebble into his pocket. He felt a warmth in his chest, a sense of completeness he had never known before her. “But now I must find one that matches your eyes.”

They continued their leisurely stroll, eyes scanning the ground for the perfect stone. Benedict was determined, his artist’s eye sharp as he examined each pebble they passed. The task was more than just a game; it was a way to connect, to see each other in the world around them.

As they walked, Benedict found himself lost in thought. He remembered their first meeting at one of the many Bridgerton balls, where she had captivated him with her wit and charm. He had been smitten from the moment she smiled at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Their courtship had been a whirlwind of stolen glances, secret rendezvous, and whispered confessions of love. Every step of the journey had brought them closer, solidifying the bond they now shared.

Finally, he spotted one—a deep, rich brown, with flecks of gold that caught the light in a way that reminded him of Y/N’s eyes. It was perfect, just like her.

“Here,” he said, presenting his find to her with a flourish. “This one.”

Y/N took the pebble, holding it up to her eyes to compare. “It’s perfect,” she said, her voice soft with emotion. She looked up at Benedict, her heart full. “You really think my eyes look this beautiful?”

Benedict smiled, drawing her close. “No, I don't,” he said. “I think your eyes are far more beautiful, my love."

They spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach, collecting pebbles and shells, laughing and talking, sharing dreams and memories. Every moment felt like a brushstroke on the canvas of their love story, vibrant and full of life. Benedict felt a profound sense of happiness as they played like children, unburdened by societal expectations.

As the sun began to set, they sat together on a large rock, watching the waves. Benedict couldn’t help but reflect on how much his life had changed since meeting Y/N. She had brought color to his world, a sense of purpose and joy he had never thought possible.

“Do you know,” Benedict said, breaking the comfortable silence, “I think this is my favorite place in the world now.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder. “Because of the beach?”

Benedict shook his head, kissing the top of hers. “Because of you,” he said simply. “Wherever you are, that is my favorite place.”

Y/N smiled, closing her eyes and savoring the moment. “And you are mine, Benedict Bridgerton.”

They continued to sit in silence, the sound of the waves mingling with the rhythm of their breaths. Benedict held her a little tighter, feeling the steady beat of her heart against his side. It was in these quiet moments that he felt the depth of his love for her, a love that was as constant and enduring as the ocean before them.

As the last light of the day faded into twilight, they stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the pebbles they had collected lying beside them.

Benedict looked down at Y/N, her face serene in the fading light, and whispered, “You are my greatest masterpiece.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. “And you, Benedict, are my heart’s truest desire.”

With that, they sealed their love with a kiss, as timeless and beautiful as the sea before them.

[matthewfuckinggraygubler]

You`re the one that I want || Spencer Reid + 18

· Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader · Category: Smut · Warning: Angst, Dom, Sex, Happy ending. · Words: 2340 · Summary : Spencer and you have been building tension for a long time, and it finally breaks in a primal way. · Inspiration: Grease's song "You're the One That I Want" and the BRUTAL car scene from Deadpool & Wolverine. 😏

· Spanish on Wattpad. English isn't my first language, be kind!

· Masterlist

You had been building up tension for months, trapped in a push and pull of feelings that neither of you could face. That tension, once imperceptible, now manifested in every word, every gesture. What were once shared jokes had turned into venomous barbs, little attacks that slipped in between the daily grind. Any excuse was enough to throw a biting comment or start an argument.

Your UAC colleagues had noticed. They’d tried to mediate, though without getting too involved. But the friction between you only seemed to grow, and nothing—neither words nor warning looks from the others—could calm the storm brewing between the two of you.

The final straw was a trivial argument in the kitchen. You, holding a cup of coffee in your hand, and him, entering carelessly.

"Be careful! You'll spill the coffee," you shouted, trying not to spill the liquid on your clothes.

"Shouldn't you watch where you're going? Maybe that way you'd avoid accidents," he replied with a tone so sharp it made you snap. He walked in to get his coffee, completely ignoring you.

The biting response slipped out before you could stop it. "Oh, sure. Any other orders from the great doctor today?"

"For God's sake, drop that tone. You sound like a 15-year-old," he snapped.

You couldn't resist. "Speaking of kids, when are you going to do something with that haircut? I don't know, something that doesn't look like a rebellious teenager's."

His gaze darkened, fury evident in his eyes. "Shut up," he said, his voice low and sharp like a threat.

"What's the matter? Does the truth hurt?" you pushed, taking it beyond the limit.

"I said shut up!" The tone he'd used was something you'd never heard before, loaded with anger and frustration. For a moment, you fell silent, surprised by the violence in his voice. You felt your face darken as you walked away, unable to continue the conversation.

The next day, the doorbell rang while you were sprawled on the couch, enjoying a quiet Saturday. You weren’t expecting anyone. When you opened the door and saw Spencer, you couldn’t help but feel a knot in your stomach. His face was tense, serious, as if something was eating away at him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, not bothering to hide your reluctance.

“I want to talk… apologize for yesterday,” he said in a flat voice.

You let him in, but the awkwardness in the air was palpable. The apology was quick and direct, but it didn’t take long before you both fell into another argument.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” he asked, his tone laced with insinuations.

“Excuse me?” you replied with a cynical laugh, as if the very suggestion that you should apologize was absurd.

After a scoff, the tension built until it exploded. Frustrated by your attitude, Spencer turned to leave. But before he could take a step, you grabbed him by the elbow, tugging on his jacket.

“Is this your solution to everything? Run away when things get tough?” you yelled, the heat of anger mixing with something deeper.

He turned abruptly, and before you could react, his hand closed tightly around your wrist, lifting it above your head. His body was so close you could feel his ragged breath against your skin.

“Let go of me…” you whispered, but it wasn’t a plea. It was a warning. Your words trembled, not out of fear, but from the intensity of the moment. Yet Spencer didn’t move, his eyes locked onto yours, challenging you, trying to assert his control.

The air thickened, filled with more than just anger. The struggle for dominance was no longer just verbal.

“Let go of me!” you shouted again, but this time your voice was charged with a fury you hadn’t felt before. With all your strength, you shoved him, making him stumble back a few steps. His gaze burned with a mix of surprise and rage, and in that moment, you knew the fight had only just begun. Before you could move, Spencer grabbed you again, harder this time, his fingers digging into your waist as he lifted you effortlessly and shoved you against the wall. The impact was brutal, knocking the air from your lungs, but the only thing that mattered was that explosive proximity.

He didn’t give you a second to recover. His lips crashed against yours, not seeking a kiss, but something much wilder. It was a clash of teeth, of ragged breaths and desperate hands trying to pin each other down. Trying to grab each other’s wrists, to stop the other’s movement. You both gasped, the clash between your bodies awakening something more primal than simple anger. You tried to push him away, but he was faster, his hands now gripping your hips, pulling you closer. The feel of his body against yours ignited a fire you couldn’t control. His fingers slid up your back with wild intensity, as if he was claiming you in the most physical way possible. You bit his lower lip, almost in anger, and his response was a low growl that rumbled in your chest, making you shudder.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled against your mouth, his eyes burning with a mix of rage and pure desire as his hands began exploring your body without any gentleness. It wasn’t an act of tenderness but a battle for control.

“Shut up,” you hissed, shoving his chest with both hands. Getting space between the two of you was nearly impossible, but still, you kept trying. The friction between your bodies was unbearable, almost painful, but you refused to be the first to give in.

Without warning, you threw a punch at his side, not with all your strength, but enough to make him gasp, giving you a brief moment to free yourself. But he responded with the same intensity, catching you before you could get away, gripping your wrists and lifting you with a single movement, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. The cold wall behind you contrasted with the unbearable heat of his body pressed against yours.

“You’re too damn proud,” he whispered through clenched teeth, his warm breath brushing against your neck before biting your skin at its most sensitive spot with a force that made you let out an involuntary moan.

You tried to push him away again, but it was impossible. His hands were already under your shirt, yanking it up until he tore it off you. The cold air hitting your bare skin made you shiver, but it wasn’t that that took your breath away—it was the way his fingers dug into your hips, holding you like he wasn’t going to let you move an inch without his permission.

With one swift motion, he lowered you to the floor, but he didn’t give you a chance to get away. He shoved you towards the couch, and before you could react, he had you pinned on your back. You writhed beneath him, your hands scratching at his back, trying to regain some control, but everything was falling apart in that wild battle between desire and rage. You pushed against him, trying to change positions, seeking control, but he wasn’t going to give in so easily. Both your hands were tangled in a constant struggle, alternating between shoves and desperate caresses. It was a fight you both were enjoying and needed more than you wanted to admit.

You yanked his hair, forcing him to look at you as you leaned forward, biting his jaw with an almost animalistic violence, desperate for the passion that was starting to replace the anger. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you back, exposing your neck as his mouth traveled down your skin, leaving a trail of kisses and bites that made you gasp. Something had shifted. It was no longer just about a power struggle; passion had taken control. He stood up and lifted you to straddle him, carrying you to the bedroom.

On the way, you frantically tore off his shirt, and your mouths were at war, fighting for dominance over each other’s tongues while one of his hands grabbed your ass and the other clawed at your back. Your hands, on the other hand, tangled in his hair, pulling savagely, helping to steady yourself with each clumsy bump on the way to the next battlefield: the bed.

When you arrived, he threw you onto the mattress, dropping onto you, but you skillfully flipped him over on the bed, using your weight to get on top of him, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. "Don’t think you’re going to dominate me," you whispered with a defiant smile, but Spencer wasn’t the type to stay still. With a single move, he grabbed your hips and shoved you forward, forcing you to lean over him.

His hands were everywhere. His mouth, brutally insistent, traveled over every part of your skin it could reach, leaving red marks in its wake. The heat between your bodies was suffocating, the tension so palpable it seemed like something was about to explode at any moment. You scratched his chest, biting his shoulders, each slap of skin against skin pulling out grunts and ragged breaths.

"What’s the matter? Don’t like losing?" he murmured, with a dark smile, almost taunting. His face was inches from yours, his eyes burning with that mix of rage and desire that ignited you in a way you’d never admit.

Without thinking, you broke free of his hands just enough to push his face to the side, trying to push him away and, above all, deny him what he wanted—you. But he just chuckled darkly, provoking you even more. That infuriated you. With a growl, you pushed away and kicked him off the bed while trying awkwardly to regain control of the situation, forcing him back just enough to free yourself and sit up.

With a playful snort at your performance, he lunged at you, pinning you to the mattress without giving you a chance to react. His hands gripping your thighs, pulling you toward him with almost brutal force, your breathing was out of control, and your heartbeat raced. There were no more preliminaries, no gentle or considerate gestures, just an unrestrained need to satisfy the hunger that had been simmering for months. You both fought for control, biting each other’s lips, mixing moans and growls between each stolen breath. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling without mercy, while he responded by thrusting harder with his hips in an attempt to ease his desire, making you gasp helplessly.

"You're unbearable," you whispered, your voice loaded with defiance and need. You said, finishing undressing him desperately, wanting to feel every part of his body.

“Fuck, you turn me on so much,” he confessed, his tone dripping with that dark intensity that only fueled the fire between you two.

In a moment, both of you were completely naked. There was practically nothing left but pleasure, he spread your legs with his knee, and with a clouded mind, he made you his. Every thrust was a violent clash of bodies, a constant struggle to see who had control. Your nails dug into his back, leaving deep marks, while he gripped your hips, dragging you toward him with a force that ripped screams and muffled moans from you.

"You... won’t... win... this," you panted between ragged breaths, your words defiant even as your body trembled beneath his.

"I’ve already won..." he moaned, his voice hoarse, laden with pleasure and fury. There was no room for anything else, just the relentless rhythm, the creaking of the bed beneath you, and the sound of bruised and sweaty skin colliding in an all-out battle.

Your hands, still gripping the sheets, tried to find some kind of advantage, and in a burst of defiance, you grabbed his neck, pulling him toward you to bite his shoulder. He responded by thrusting harder, pulling a mixture of moans and growls from you that filled the room. You suddenly shifted, taking advantage of his confidence to reverse the position, leaving you on top of him, your body pressing against his as he pushed from below. You leaned forward, scratching his chest with a dark smile, your lips descending on his skin in kisses and bites that drew deep sighs from him.

But Spencer didn’t give up, and he had to reassert himself one last time. With a quick movement, he caught you again, flipping you over so that your back was against the bed, your body arching under his as he gripped your hips tightly. There were no more words, only the sound of your bodies colliding, the shared panting, and the rough whisper of your name on his lips.

"Fuck… I’m gonna..." he moaned, which drove you wild.

The climax was as violent as the battle you had waged. A point of no return where control was completely lost. You screamed his name between moans and gasps, your body trembling beneath his as he sank deeper, letting out one final growl before collapsing on top of you, exhausted.

Finally, you both collapsed, breathing heavily, your bodies still trembling from the wild energy that had defined every second of the night, leaving only the absolute exhaustion that made it clear this wouldn’t be the last time. Suddenly, there was no anger, no rage. All the tension of months had been settled. You looked at each other with soft smiles as you tried to catch your breath.

"I won," you said with a smile, calm after the ecstasy.

Spencer snorted in amusement. "Fine, yeah… okay, you won. Will you grant me a rematch...?" he smiled, exhausted.

· Requests via DM ·

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I’ve had my share of [Crowley voice] you idiot thoughts at both of them over their terrible communication skills and severe chronic inability to say what they mean. But like. I get it.

For 6000 years, they had to talk in code. They had to express themselves in grand gestures and subtext and plausible deniability, out of fear of being found out. And they got really good at it! They developed a whole secret language of ways to say I love you because they couldn’t say it out loud.

But now that they can—and need to—talk about what they are to each other with actual words, they don’t know how.

Neither of them know how to say what they want, openly, and to ask what the other wants. And (I think this is a crucial component) they don’t know how to fight. They’ve had enough spats to have a 350+ year old apology dance, but they have repeatedly avoided talking about the really big differences in their worldviews and what they value, because those conversations would immediately bump up against the things they try hardest to avoid (doubt and guilt for Aziraphale; rejection for Crowley), and because that could lead to a real disagreement that they don’t know how to get around. And then where would either of them be? Alone.

So they bicker and they have drunken philosophical debates and they make up and do little dances all while not really talking about the big differences in how they see the world. And then when the pressure is on they have horrible miscommunication blowouts where they end up talking past each other and hurting each other deeply because they don’t even realize they’re not on the same page.

Upon rewatch I think this is part of why Crowley seems so unhappy in the early episodes. I think he did hope that once they weren’t working for Heaven and Hell, things would go in a more explicitly romantic direction. (But of course he won’t just come out and say that, until the absolute last ditch moment.) From his POV, he’s made his desires perfectly clear (he hasn’t) and I think he thought that working for Heaven was the last thing holding Aziraphale back. And then they cleared that hurdle and nothing changed. Or not enough. Because the problem goes deeper than that.

And bless(/damn) them, they’re still trying. The confession was clearly so hard for Crowley, and would have been even without the first half of the scene, because he’s working against his deepest insecurities. He can’t even finish his sentences, and yet he’s still trying. And I do think that Aziraphale was working up to his own version of it (he’s so openly physically affectionate with Crowley this season, much more than in the past) but he’s always moved a bit slower with these things, and then it was too late. (It’s always too late.)

But even if they’d both been able to openly say their I love yous, they still have this thing sitting between them, which is that Aziraphale doesn’t understand why Crowley would never go back to Heaven, and Crowley doesn’t understand why Aziraphale would want to. And having that conversation goes right to the heart of how they’ve both been damaged by the system of Heaven and Hell, which is why I suspect they’ve both instinctively avoided it before now. And at some point in s3, they are going to have to talk about that.

[kooqitas]

— secret kink ★ with: knj + jjk!

#pairings: friend!jjk X boyfriend!knj X reader

#synopsis: you discover your boyfriend's kink

#tags: pwp, sex, rough sex, threesome, cuckold, cockslut, spanking, spit, vaginal sex, degradation, humiliation, orgasm denial, orgasm play, creampie, overstimulation, dacryphilia, oral sex, multiple orgasm

#notes: ok, i need to be honest, this is the most dirty thing i've ever written, but it doesn't deviate much from what's been written here so far… whatever, i hope you like it guys :)

#wc: 3,1k

🌸 . . english isn’t my first language, so be patient :)

“when you gonna told me that you fucked with jungkook?” namjoon, your boyfriend, entered the room while you were still wrapped in a towel after getting out of the shower.

“excuse me?”

“hoseok told me, when we break up a few weeks ago, you and jungkook fucked”

“hoseok is a gossip boy” you mumbled.

“maybe, but when you gonna tell me?”

“when you gonna told me that you fucked with taehyung?” you asked him. 

alright, you and namjoon had a fight last month, it's a bad fight, you broke up for some weeks, you stayed in the apartment but he lived at bts dorm.

but, in those weeks, maybe you two have some... diversion with your friends.

“taehyung and me was a mistake”

“you take jungkook's boyfriend and he took your girlfriend”

“so was it planned?”

“no” snorted. “just happened”

“was good? he ate you well?”

what the fuck was that question? wanting to know whether or not your girlfriend has sex while you were apart is understandable, but what the hell was he asking?

“not better than you”

“anyone fucks you better than me, doll”

you laugh, it's true. you two have a relationship a years ago, of course he knows exactly how and where touch you.

“did he treated you like the whore you are?”

“i don't understand what the point”

“i just wanna know if my girl was fucked good”

“yes, i am! and i know that taehyung too”

silence.

“how many times you cum?”

“really? namjoon, i don't want to fight, i fucked jungkook, you fucked taehyung, it's okay”

“who says that i want to fight?”

you can't understand what the point of this conversation.

“i just wanna know if my baby was treat like the whore he is, if jungkook doing a good job and cum of this pussy”

namjoon laughed, and his laughed sounded like sadism. whos wanna know how your girlfriend was fucked?

unless…

“three years with you, and you never told me that you have cuckold kink”

“im telling u now”

bingo!

the information was a little shocking, right, jungkook and you had always been very close and namjoon never showed a single bit of jealousy, however you always thought it was because of your friendship for years, and the fact that jungkook had a boyfriend.

“so, why don't you call him and ask how he eats me?”

namjoon sit on the sofa, but without any courage to call to your friend.

"what's happening?" you asked when notice the hesitate "are you afraid that your best friend know that you liked that had cum on your girlfriend? are u shammed? ok, i call"

you take the cell and call to jungkook.

“hi, hyung! are u okay?” 

“hey, baby!” you said. “namjoon wanna know how good was fucked me that day”

“oh my god! he’s know? hyung, i’m so sorry, we are so drunk and-”

you laughed.

“i wouldn't apologize if i were you, he's all excited imagining you fucking me. and don't forget that he fucked with your boyfriend, if i were you i'd give as many details as possible…”

on the other end of the line Jungkook was wide-eyed, he always thought that if his friend found out about their night there would be a big fight, but no, there he was in connection with namjoon, who was horny knowing that his girlfriend gave your pussy to another.

jungkook even tried, but he couldn't hold back the smirk that tugged at his lips.

he was still fighting with taehyung, and didn't even intend to make up. of course, jungkook was angry with namjoon because he knew he was also to blame for all this.

so if he wanted to be humiliated, well, he would.

“your girlfriend is a dumb whore, she masturbated in my bathroom, when i opened the door, she was moaning with two fingers inside her, i couldn't control it, i needed to eat her”

namjoon imagines the scene, and his cock wake up

"she moaned so loud in my fingers, god, i wasn't need said too much, she just give her cunt for me at the same time"

you laughed naughty, remembering the scene.

you and jungkook spent a good few minutes talking about how taehyung and namjoon's sex had been, and naturally, with a drink, you were so fucking horny, both of you rubbing your own thigh temptingly to relieve the emotion.

you asked to take a shower, but when you turned on the shower the first thing you did was put your fingers in your wet pussy, you couldn't tell if it was missing namjoon or wanting jungkook, you didn't even think about anything, you just wanted to cum.

it didn't take five minutes for jungkook to enter the bathroom, seeing you with your eyes closed moving your fingers quickly.

he took off his clothes, and sneaked in, hugging you from behind and leaving a kiss on his neck. jungkook was quick to pull your hand and insert his fingers, then brushing his member against your ass, and the pleasant moan you gave only confirmed the consent he knew he had. you didn't hold back in saying that that night he owned you, and that you were desperate for him to open you up with his fat cock.

returning to the present moment, namjoon stroked his own dick while listening to his friend's statement.

“she was so hot, hyung. saying that I owned her, cumming on my fingers, saying that i could do whatever i wanted with her. fuck! i think now i understand why you guys have been together for so long, i would also love to eat that pussy every day.”

jungkook masked silence, namjoon was quiet and this worried jungkook.

“that’s okay, jungkook! he didn’t say anything because was busy touching himself”

so he’s keeped going.

“i took her to bed, hyung. she was so wet even after having cum, i stuck my tongue in her and she moaned even louder, she kept screaming my name for anyone who wanted to hear. my face got all wet, and she got irritated when i didn't let her cum” he laughed. “but i made her cum on my dick, she's a cockslut, she asked me to hit her, to choke her, and every time i cursed her, her pussy squeezed my cock. damn, hyung, now i'm so fucking horny!”

jungkook knew that what he would say next could destroy a friendship of years, it turns out that at the moment his head was clouded by lust and he even thought about friendship.

“hyung, leave me fuck your girlfriend again. so you can watch us and draw your own conclusions”

namjoon took his hand out of his shorts, and you tried to read your boyfriend's face, but you didn't understand anything. was Namjoon nervous? did Jungkook cross the line? was he just excited to hear but not see?

in fact, that was a good question, how far would namjoon's kink go?

whatever, all insecurity fell away when Namjoon moved away from the phone.

“you know my address, and your entry is free at the entrance”

namjoon looked at you and tapped her thigh twice, you immediately understood the message and sent it there, receiving a kiss on the neck and a caress on her breasts.

“'ll lend you to him one more time, but you know that's it, don't you? you are my little toy that i use whenever i want”

you nod, and namjoon opens your mouth spitting into it, you swallow, like the good whore you are.

“he's going to cum in you, but this pussy is mine, okay? and after all, maybe you're tired, but you're mine, and you give your pussy to your owner”

------------------------------------

after some minutes, the doorbell rang, and namjoon opened the door, of course, jungkook was there. namjoon kissed him, like a 'welcome' put his tongue on jungkook's mouth and grabbed his ass.

"you can do anything, since her want, of course" this is the only thing that namjoon said.

so, this is you now.

sitting on the bed, with your legs opened, just underwear, pinching your own nipple.

they both drooled, the visible stain on the lace panties made them both desperate to open your pussy even more.

but now it was jungkook's turn, so namjoon sat on the couch.

jungkook took off his clothes so quickly, and going to the bed, kissing you when you put the legs on his waist, trying feel something.

"are you always so desperate? in my house, now here, why?” hes bite your lips. “i can fuck this hole open now, you are so wet, fuck, look your leaky cunt, my cock going to feel so good in you… but, i think that your boyfriend want to see i’m playing with you first”

jungkook playing with your tits leans down to start sucking on your nipples, include painful bites every now and then making scream his name when his mark you with purple hickies.

so, jungkook take off your panties, putting on your mouth.

“shut the fuck up, dumb! i even started and you moaned like a pathetic slut.”

he groping your clit, your hole dripping and making a mess, you are so embarrassed, and namjoon watches everything.

and he's like.

so much.

he took advantage of the open legs to stick his face there, running his tongue slowly over your folds, giving a light bite to the clitoris that made you scream in pain and then pull jungkook's hair.

“if you touch me one more time, i will ruin you”

you took off yours hands grabbing the sheet when his eat your in a brutal way, you can feel your tongue your lips, your nose, even you chin, every part of jungkook's face on your pussy.

namjoon appreciated that, took off your underwear, releasing your dick, your massive purple dick with precum.

when jungkook bite your clit, you pulled his hair.

and you receive a slap.

“disgusting whore, you can't do what i'm say? i don't need that your hole, i can fuck others, you are not special! so do what i'm say or i’m gonna away!”

without warning, jungkook puts two fingers inside you, take your underwear of ou mouth just for listen your scream due to agressiveness that you are fucked. you tried close your legs, not because you don't wanna it, but because was too much, soo good, but jungkook did not let.

“if you cum now, you it will end with fun, please, don’t be a useless slut”

and he's continuous. you moaning so loud every time his fingers is in and out of you. 

namjoon looking everything with a devocion.

“two fingers are enough to break your tiny cunt? god, can you imagine how will it be with my fat cock?”

so you cum… without permission.

and jungkook hit in your face, squeezing your neck.

“disgusting whore, i told you to not cum”

he pinch your clit.

and you scream.

and he do again, and again, and again.

jungkook grabbed your hair and got you out of bed, on your knees

“you can cum on my mouth?” you asked when he took de underwear.

“in your face, bitches like you deserves this”

you smiled, and jungkook's response was a spit in your face.

“you know, two slaps in my thigh and i stop” you agreed.

he waste no time fucking and shooting their hot precum down your throat.

due to the rudeness, tears started to flow from your eyes, but that would never be a bad thing, you were just making the most of jungkook.

namjoon moaned so loud when u gasp on jungkook dick, and that's when you realized that namjoon was masturbating.

“this is the best you can do? poor namjoon, pathetic mouth”

jungkook pushes your head so that your nose touches his pelvis, and holds you there, until you cough.

“cum on her face, jungkook, dirty this slut!”

jungkook moaned before your cock spit sperm on your face, the cum spills out around the cock in your face, some leaking down onto your tits.

it was divine.

“doggy style, whore, i want to fuck you like my pathetic puppy”

jungkook slapped you, and then another, and another, and another.

your ass burned and so did jungkook's hand, but he would continue hitting until he got tired, after all, at that moment you were his, and he had permission to use you as desired.

your pussy dripped onto the bed. jungkook laughed, and then positioned himself behind you, rubbing his cock against your swollen clit, whereupon he pushed you further onto the bed, so that his chest was touching the mattress and your ass was in the air.

once fully sheathed, the jungkooks cock widens your pussy open, pulls all the way out and slams all the way back in.

jungkook thrust so hard that the shock of his hips hurt, but you like it, namjoon and jungkook too.

namjoon increased the speed of his masturbation, still being careful not to cum, he didn't want to cum like that.

you really want the cock of your boyfriend in you too now, in your mouth, asshole, whatever, you just need both of them fuck you, and you made a mental note for this.

“that shitty pussy of yours can handle anything, right? i bet i can fit my balls inside you too”

jungkook starts brutally rubbing your engorged clit, you throw your head back, drool slipping past in the sheet.

“fleet wide pussy, you can take the cock of your boyfriend here too, maybe we can gonna try this some day”

it was pathetic the way you moaned “yes, please”

he laughed, gripped your hips so hard you’re sure there’ll be bruises, your titties flop brushing on the sheet with each thrust. soo good, so messy.

“who owns you?” jungkook asked.

“n-namjoon!”

namjoon watched everything mesmerized, he had already read reports about cuckolding, he knew it was fun to watch, he just didn't expect it to be so much. he didn't even want to go in there, he just wanted to watch his girlfriend being destroyed by his best friend.

that was enough.

“you're a whore who has an owner but loves cumming on someone else's dick. disgusting bitch.” he continued thrusting without any shame. “tell me what you are”

“a w-whore”

“exactly, a whore that acepts everything since you hole is full. is your owner enjoying watching this? this disgusting show you're putting on?”

“h-hes lik-kes”

“we’ll see”

jungkook pulled himself out of you and by your hair for what must have been the hundredth time that night, you didn't quite understand what he wanted but you just followed him.

you were dragged to the armchair where his boyfriend was, and in a single movement jungkook made his body fall onto namjoon's.

and there you were: holding on to your boyfriend's shoulder while prancing towards another.

he entered again, mercilessly punching his dick into the slut who was his at that moment.

you held Namjoon's shoulder, he felt like his dick could explode because of how horny he was.

jungkook pulled your hair hard again, forcing you to face namjoon.

“say to your boyfriend how much you like this”

jungkook still brutally rubbing your engorged clit, making you lose the conscience with the pleasure.

“namjonnie… s-so go-good”

you cried, lost in your own excitement, you didn't even care how deplorable you looked at the moment.

“good, sweetheart?” namjoon said, taking his hand off his dick and just enjoying his girfriend's body folded over his while jungkook fucked her. “what are you, my dear?”

“a wh-whore, desperate for coc- jungkook i’m gon-gonna cu-”

“cum, whore, but i won’t stop fuck this hole still i’m cum in you’’

“i'll like it more when i see your cum dripping from her pussy. and i'm sure she does too, right, baby? says what you want” your boyfriend said.

“jungkooks cum”

“where do you want? be more specific, princess” namjoon spoke docilely, but the lust in his speech was clear.

“in m-my pus-sy, for you will ea-eat l-ater!

“cum, doll, i want to see you cum for us”

"doll" jungkook laughed. “cum, whore, and enjoy me filling you with cum”

you scream, cumming on jungkook’s cock.

your legs are shaking and if it weren't for jungkook's strength you wouldn't even be able to stand.

but luckily, jungkook was strong, and not only did he hold you back, but he continued fucking you roughly.

“i'm going to fill this pussy so much that it's going to overflow on your boyfriend's cock”

“j-jungkook” you moaned, feeling your cunt fluttering on his dick.

“i'm going to gaping this pussy, when your boyfriend goes to fuck her, it will be completely wide by me”

you couldn't stand anymore, and that's when namjoon got up to help hold you down, while jungkook continued fucking you like crazy.

“behave” your boyfriend told you.

“now watch me fill this hole open” jungkook said before cum.

still with his leg wobbly, jungkook left you, sitting on the couch.

namjoon didn't say anything, he just lifted you on his lap and fitted your pussy onto his dick. tears ran down your face and your mouth didn't even close, moans and more moans were made as you clung to your boyfriend's neck as you were pushed against his thick cock.

“are you what?”

you knew the weight of this question, if you answered something profane, namjoon would continue fucking you without any mercy, but if you said you was just his princess he would go slowly. after all, that was your dynamic, pleasure is good, but safety comes first.

“your whore!”

namjoon didn't respond, he just threw you on the bed, bending your legs leaving you in an almost fetal position.

eh started thrusting again and at that point jungkook's cum squirted onto his member, and damn, that was so exciting.

the large body collided against you and moaned more and more and was driving them both crazy.

you came on your boyfriend’s cock, shaking in a way namjoon had never seen before.

you had reached the peak, it was clear.

so namjoon removed himself from inside you as quickly as possible, respecting your limit, and called his friend.

"come on, jungkook, cum in her one more time"

namjoon arranged his legs, leaving them wide open.

and started masturbating, soon Jungkook joined him.

they masturbated their members quickly, until jets of cum came out and fell towards your pussy, which was already full of cum.

even though you were tired, you took two fingers there, smearing them and then putting them in your mouth.

you were exhausted.

and you have plans for the next time…

[nightwngz]

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝. 𝒕. drake ✮ eng. . . !

tim drake x female!reader

WARNINGS. . . porn with plot. friends with benefits. fingering, face riding, sex (p in v)

COPYRIGHT. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

LANGUAGE. . . english is not my first language and I am still studying to master it. It makes me insecure to write by myself in another language, so I used the translator. I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

You had never thought of Tim Drake as anything other than your best friend, the guy you trusted and could turn to whenever you were worried about something.

He was your emotional refuge, a place where you could feel completely vulnerable, where you could share all your concerns, knowing that he would be honored to listen.

At the time, you would have sworn that you would never think of Tim as anything other than a friend. But time began to form a deeper bond between you and him.

Conversations that used to be a fun time between friends began to turn into a strange and strangely palpable tension. The hugs grew longer, the rubbing of your bodies more intense, and every lingering look seemed to contain a caged lasciviousness that only you could understand.

As time passed, the emotions you had sworn you would never feel for Tim began to flutter inside you. You found yourself thinking about him differently, noticing how your skin prickled when he touched you, how your sexual fantasies about his person began to invade your mind.

Ever since you started sleeping together and made the deal to be, as Jason said, "friends with benefits," your best friend discovered there was a side of you he didn't know.

You didn't mind invading his room because you wanted to be devoured by someone. You were not afraid to kneel on either side of Tim's head, just because you wanted to ride his face.

Fortunately for you, your friend was incredibly good at the task of eating you. His tongue pushed obscenely between your wet folds to open them, his fingers were busy fluttering against the pleasure cap that ached from lack of attention. With these movements, you gave in to him; the surge of pleasure and the sensitivity you kept in your wet pussy made his touch make you see stars.

— Hold on a little longer. I'm not done yet.

Your hole was getting closer to the emptiness of the stimulation he was giving you. You imagined what his face would be like underneath you, and just the thought of him with his whole mouth smeared from your crying pussy brought you that much closer to the edge.

But to have him look into your eyes as he squeezed your clit with his lips and then scraped it with his tongue was too much for you to bear. The orgasm hit you so hard that Tim didn't even see it coming until his whole mouth was covered with your wonderful taste.

He gave you no respite from the hypersensitivity your previous orgasm had left you with, so he immediately began to fuck you without pity through the hole he had just abused.

With his thumb, he sweetly stroked your center again to make you feel completely at ease with the onslaught.

You felt full. You felt his body fit perfectly into yours, as if he had been made to fuck you. His hot skin burned against yours as his pelvis slammed into you, making a lurid sound that could be heard throughout the room. It was too much to bear.

— T-Tim, Tim! - You cried on his shoulder. - I want you to come inside me, I can't stand it anymore.

You moved to kiss him instead of letting him answer. Your tongue was focused enough on exploring his mouth when you felt the thick, hot fluid between your legs.

You might never be the same friends again, but you could live with it.

[rayaverra]

Jealousy Unleashed // Luke Castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

genre: angst

request: Hi, could you do Luke castellan x fem reader where the reader makes Luke jealous? Thank you!

summary: you and Luke had an argument, and now you try to break his silent treatment by making him jealous.

warnings: probably language

wc: 1k

notes: I had many ideas of how to approach this, but I decided to make it a bit angst. hope you like it :)

english is not my first language, so there may be mistakes.

・❥・༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶・❥・

You and Luke were a beautiful couple, but just like all couples, there was problem in paradise. You didn't argue a lot, but when you did, oh boy! You were both too stubborn and, above all, too proud to admit your wrongs. This time was no different. After a stupid argument (that neither of you remember the cause of because it probably was something stupid), Luke was giving you the silent treatment. He had done this before, but he never lasted longer than a few hours because neither of you could go very long without talking to the other. But this one had been going on for almost two days, and you wouldn't let it pass.

You were at the bonfire sing-along with the Apollo cabin, blatantly talking and laughing with anyone who wasn't Luke. When he attempted to get your attention from across the bonfire, you glanced at him, then turned back around to continue your conversation with Charles.

Luke crossed his arms, gritting his teeth. "Stay calm," he thought to himself. "She's just talking to Beckendorf. He's like four years younger than her."

Just when he started to cool off, you stood up from your seat. He watched as you walked your way to Nick, a boy from the Athena cabin, closer to your age. His blood started to heat up.

In all honesty, you were just talking to him to piss Luke off. It was an awful thing to do—you recognized that—but maybe he needed to suffer a little before you forgave him. Plus, maybe this would make him break his silence and actually talk to you instead of glaring like a little kid from across the room. If Luke wanted to hold a grudge, you would too, and you knew he wouldn't apologize unless you took action.

And of course, you refused to be the one to apologize first.

The Stolls walked over to Luke, picking up immediately on their brother's increasing anger. Connor poked Luke's arm and almost jumped back when Luke gave him a look of murderous rage. "What do you want?" Luke snapped, looking over Travis' shoulder as you leaned toward Nick a bit more. "I'm a little busy, as you can see."

"Totally!" said Travis, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe you should just apologize to her instead of glaring at the back of her head while she talks to Nick." Connor said, glancing over his shoulder at you.

"Who isn't exactly ugly, by the way." Added Travis, reminding Luke how most of the girls at camp consider him attractive.

"You don't know her like I do, so you wouldn't understand. Now go do... whatever you were doing, I told you I'm busy." Luke waved them away with his hands and returned to his previous activity of glaring at his girlfriend, arms crossed, and a childish pout on his lips.

"Yeah, busy pretending you don't care about your girlfriend while pretty boy over there is making openly flirtatious comments towards her." Connor nudged him.

"If I were you, I would apologize now, before she and Nick get even cozier over there," Travis pointed towards you and Nick, who were sitting incredibly close. He had one hand twirling a stand of your hair, the other resting close to your knee.

Luke was furious; in a cartoon world, he would've turned red, and steam would've come out of his ears. He quickly made his way over there before you could even blink, forcing himself in between you both and sitting down right there. He leaned into you, wrapping an arm around your waist, before turning his head toward Nick and raising his eyebrows.

"That looked like a nice conversation, mind if I join you?"

"I don't think it would make much of a difference if I said no," Nick said. The smile he had on his face while he was talking to you had vanished.

Luke smirked, shaking his head. "Nope," he replied, taking your hand in his. You didn't protest; you knew this was his way of saying he was sorry and that the real apology would actually come out soon enough, that is, when Nick stood up and left. Except, Nick stayed in his seat, narrowing his eyes.

"You're not a very good boyfriend, are you, Castellan?" Nick fired, and, oh gods, you could almost see a vein flickering in Luke's forehead. "Since when do you control who your girlfriend talks to?"

Luke pulled away from you, clenching his jaw. His fists tightened, and his eyes narrowed with fury. "Watch your words, Anderson. You're treading on thin ice." He warned, his voice low and dangerous.

You leaned forward, placing one hand on his shoulder and using your other one to relax his tight fist. "Hey, cool it down," you said softly. "This isn't the time for a clash."

Luke visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumping as he gave you a small smile, grabbing your hand tightly.

Nick stood up, a smirk on his face. "Well, that's adorable. A girlfriend having to calm her boyfriend down from murderous fits of rage. How cute."

You held Luke's hand tighter, and his previous anger was replaced with a smirk of his own. "Think whatever you want, Nick, but at the end of the day, there's one thing I get to do, and you don't," he said in a triumphant voice.

"And what's that?" Nick asked with the minimum interest.

"Kiss my incredibly beautiful girlfriend." Luke said, tangling his hands in your hair and pulling you towards him, pressing his soft lips to yours. His inner self did a victory dance when you deepened the kiss, your own hands moving to his cheeks.

"You're such an asshole sometimes," you told him when you pulled away. It wasn't a lie; even Luke himself knew it. But he didn't really care, and neither did you.

He had gotten Nick to walk away and had gotten you to forgive him, all in one shot. Plus, he made out with you, which was always a bonus.

[misshoneyimhome]

500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“So you think my legs are going to magically spread for you?” I Matthew Tkachuk

Summary; Despite your mutual disinterest, as the younger sister of a Florida Panthers player, it was inevitable that you would cross paths with Matthew Tkachuk at the celebration party.

Tropes & warnings; Matthew Tkachuk x reader, enemies to lovers, player's younger sister, Stanley Cup celebration, alcohol consumption, language

Other notes; So, lovely babes, this is my first time writing for Matthew Tkachuk, so I'm beyond excited to hear what you think of it 🙏🏼 Also, this idea has been on my mind for a while, so hopefully it turned out well ✨ I really hope you enjoy it 🌺

Word count; 4.2K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny@justwanderingbutneverlost @cixrosie

➼｡ﾟ

The Florida sun slowly sank behind the streets of Miami, casting a golden light over the lively chaos following the Florida Panthers' Stanley Cup victory. The city was buzzing with joy, fans filling the streets, waving banners, and chanting team chants. 

And as a guest at the team's exclusive post-championship party, you navigated through a sea of ecstatic family members and hockey players; the venue was a swanky club, decorated in gold and red, resembling the team’s colours.

Being the younger sister of a Panthers defensemen had its perks, but tonight, it mostly meant being pulled into conversations with unfamiliar faces. You spent the evening listening to hockey tales and politely acknowledging jokes you didn’t quite get. The loud music and constant chatter were starting to give you a headache, and you yearned for some peace.

So, leaning against the bar, you nursed a drink and tried to fade into the background. And sensing your need for a break, the bartender handed you a fresh cocktail with a sympathetic smile. You took a sip, the cool liquid a relief from the heat and noise.

However, just as you began to relax, a familiar voice broke your reverie. "Well, if it isn't y/n y/l/n," Matthew Tkachuk drawled, his smirk as irritatingly charming as ever, leaning beside you at the bar, his gaze meeting yours.

You rolled your eyes. "Tkachuk," you replied, your tone dripping with the disdain that had characterised your interactions from the start. He was a forward for the team, undeniably talented, though you’d never admit it aloud.

And even worse, he looked effortlessly handsome in a well-tailored suit that managed to be both relaxed and expensive; his tousled hair and that trademark smirk were frustratingly perfect.

"So, enjoying the party?" he asked casually, mischief glinting in his eyes.

You shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. "It's okay. More my brother’s thing than mine."

Matthew chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah, I can see that. But you have to admit, it’s a pretty epic celebration."

You glanced around at the crowd, the dazzling lights, and the palpable excitement. "I suppose," you conceded. "But I’d prefer somewhere quieter."

But his smirk just simply widened. "Really? I would’ve thought you were someone who enjoys being right in the middle of everything."

You raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think that?"

Unexpectedly,  Matthew leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a confidential tone. "Because no matter where I go, you always seem to be there."

Your eyes narrowed. "Maybe that’s because you always manage to show up where you’re not wanted."

Matthew laughed, a genuine sound that briefly eased your annoyance. "Fair point. But you know, sometimes the best things happen in unexpected places."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes once more. "Yeah, well, I’m not holding my breath for that."

_

Matthew had always managed to get under your skin. Whether it was his smug grin on that annoyingly handsome face or his undeniable skills on the ice, he exuded confidence without apology. He was the type of guy who knew his worth and flaunted it freely.

To put it bluntly, you had never particularly liked Matthew Tkachuk - well, at least, that’s what you thought. While he hadn’t directly wronged you, he was simply too much—too loud, too cocky, too... everything. His presence could dominate a room, sucking out all the air and attention effortlessly.

If you were to compare him to a fictional character, Matthew could easily pass for Prince Charming from the Shrek movies: overly self-assured, possessing a strong ego, and strikingly handsome in every way. His eyes were magnetic, his smile infectious, and his physique impeccable. He walked with a swagger that bordered on 

arrogance, and it drove you mad.

Oh, that body...

There was this one time you inadvertently caught sight of it after a training session while meeting your brother, and the image had unfortunately burned itself into your memory. He had emerged from the locker room, shirtless and still gleaming with sweat, his muscles flexing with every move.

It even intruded into your private moments, alone in your bed, right when you were on the brink of climax. The memory of his sculpted abs and the way his shorts hung low on his hips invaded your thoughts at the most inconvenient times.

You were of course incredibly embarrassed about it, not wanting to admit to anyone that you had briefly fantasised about Matthew Tkachuk. And even worse, you had to acknowledge to yourself that you had enjoyed it. The fantasy of him, his strong hands on your body, his lips against your skin, had led you to that intense pleasure that left you breathless and somewhat ashamed.

Him. Of all people.

Naturally, you tried to convince yourself it was solely the work of your vibrator. Yet, you couldn’t shake the fact that he had crossed your mind. Every time you saw him, that memory lingered in the depths of your thoughts, causing you to blush and feel a mixture of irritation and something else you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

_

As you stood there, amidst the lively atmosphere of the Stanley Cup celebration, you had to clench your thighs together and banish all lingering thoughts of him. The vibrant energy of the party coursed through your veins, yet the memory of Matthew's teasing smirk and his lingering touch persisted.

But it seemed as though he could sense your unspoken resistance. And Matthew was the type who thrived on challenges; and you were a challenge he wasn't about to shy away from. So suddenly, he was closely beside you, his breath warm against your ear, cutting through the room's clamour. "Well, I must say I didn't expect to find you here, princess. I thought you didn’t like partying with your brother's teammates?"

Your eyes narrowed. "I don’t. I'm only here for the free drinks." You tried to sound nonchalant, but deep down, you couldn’t deny the thrill his proximity brought.

Matthew chuckled, and despite your efforts, a small smile tugged at your lips. There was an undeniable magnetism in his confidence, his playful demeanour contrasting sharply with the intensity he showed on the ice. But shaking your head, you reminded yourself of all the reasons why you shouldn’t like him. He was arrogant, overly self-assured, and absolutely the last person you should find intriguing.

Yet, his husky voice once again brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Or maybe you’re just here to have a good time?”

Raising an eyebrow, you met his gaze with a defiant stare. “So you think my legs are going to magically spread for you just because we're at the same party?" you retorted, trying to regain your composure and create some distance between you.

You felt assured by your words. Maybe it was the outfit you'd chosen that gave you that extra boost of confidence — something you'd been very mindful of when putting it together; the sleek black dress you'd opted for hugged your curves perfectly. Its smooth silhouette highlighted your figure with undeniable allure, while the low neckline offered a subtle hint of cleavage, adding a touch of charm suitable for the occasion. Under the soft lights, the dress shimmered elegantly, catching the eye as you moved and subtly drawing attention.

Despite its form-fitting design, the dress fell just above the knee, striking a balance between sophistication and allure. It was a choice that exuded confidence, commanding attention without overshadowing the celebratory atmosphere of the evening. Plus, the drinks you'd been sipping for the past few hours had added to your courage.

Matthew simply raised an eyebrow, his blue-grey eyes twinkling with amusement. "Who said anything about magic?" he teased, his voice low. "But I wouldn't mind if it happened."

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. "You're unbelievable." The heat of the moment and his proximity made it difficult to think clearly, but you were determined not to let him get to you.

Matthew then leaned back, his expression turning more serious. "Look, y/n, I know we've had our differences—"

"You mean you've been a prick," you interjected, unable to hold back. It was instinctive, a defence mechanism kicking in to shield yourself from the unexpected vulnerability his seriousness revealed.

But Matthew just sighed, running a hand through his curly hair, styled into a soft, modern mullet. His eyes softened momentarily, revealing a glimpse of the person beyond the bravado. Yet, before he could say anything more, you were both pulled away to rejoin some of the others, their laughter and high spirits drawing you back into the celebration.

As the night wore on, both you and Matthew kept your distance, focusing on simply enjoying the party. You laughed, danced, and chatted with others, trying to push the encounter from your mind. Yet, every so often, you caught him glancing your way, his gaze thoughtful and intense, making your heart race all over again.

Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but be aware of him, his presence a constant hum at the back of your mind. Though the celebration continued around you, a whirlwind of joy and excitement, there was an undercurrent of something else, something that left you wondering just what Matthew Tkachuk's intentions were, and whether you were ready to find out.

It was a huge win for the Panthers. The air crackled with excitement, a chorus of cheers and celebratory shouts echoing through the room. Drinks flowed freely, and the players, including Matthew, were eager to shed the weight of the season's training rules and simply revel in their victory.

Despite their attempts to keep the celebration controlled, the intensity of the moment quickly swept everyone up. Laughter filled the air as families began to depart, leaving behind only the players and their younger siblings at the lively gathering. And in the midst of it all, Matthew felt a surge of confidence building within him.

And that’s when his eyes landed on you once again.

From across the room, he observed you with a mix of curiosity and admiration. Your laughter resonated, adding to the jubilant atmosphere as you engaged in conversation with some of the other players' siblings. Matthew couldn’t deny that there was something distinctly captivating about you tonight, a subtle allure that drew his attention and held it.

“You should hit that,” Brady, Matthew's younger brother, interjected abruptly, breaking through his thoughts.

“What?” Matthew replied, caught off guard by Brady's blunt statement.

“Go for it,” the Ottawa player teased, a mischievous glint in his eye and a slight slur to his words. “You’ve been staring at her all night. Just go for it! You know you want to.”

Matthew chuckled dismissively, shaking his head. “I haven’t been staring at her all night. I’ve barely spoken to her.”

But Brady's lips just curled into a smirk, his confidence buoyed by the alcohol swirling through his veins, amplifying his bravado as he leaned in towards Matthew. His words dripped with sarcasm, each syllable a challenge meant to goad his older brother into action.

"Sure," he scoffed, the hint of a dare in his voice. "Come on, I dare you to go ask her for a dance."

Matthew's brows furrowed slightly, his eyes narrowing in playful disbelief at Brady's persistence. A chuckle escaped his lips, a mix of amusement and mild protest.

"No way, man," Matthew replied, shaking his head with a wry grin. His brother's teasing was nothing new, but tonight, under the influence of celebration and camaraderie, it almost struck a chord.

Brady, undeterred by Matthew's initial refusal, pressed on with the banter, his voice carrying a playful challenge underscored by the sibling rivalry that defined their relationship.

"Alright, I guess if you don't want to, it’s cool," he taunted, his words tinged with mock disappointment. “I mean bro, you can be a chicken if you want to, but don't tell me you're afraid. After winning the Cup, this should be a piece of cake. Unless you're scared she'll turn you down?”

And the barb hit its mark, stirring something within Matthew's competitive spirit. His jaw set with determination; he couldn't let Brady's jibes go unanswered. As athletes, the Tkachuk brothers were no strangers to challenges and dares—each one a gauntlet thrown down, impossible to ignore.

In that moment, Matthew's resolve solidified. He couldn't allow his younger brother to mock him for shying away from a simple act like asking someone to dance. After all, he was Matthew Tkachuk, a Stanley Cup champion—this should be effortless.

So, as mature as ever, Matthew raised an eyebrow. “Fine, you want a show? Watch this.”

Brady's eyes tracked his movements with a mixture of amusement and curiosity as his older brother weaved through the jubilant crowd. The room buzzed with excitement, cheers reverberating off the walls, and the beat of celebratory music filled the air. Despite the festive atmosphere, Matthew's attention honed in on your distinct presence across the room, a singular figure amidst the sea of revelry.

However, with each deliberate step toward you, Matthew felt a peculiar weight settle on his shoulders. His heart suddenly thudded loudly in his chest, a blend of nerves and adrenaline pulsing through his veins like a current.

Wait, what? Why? he silently questioned himself, puzzled by the sudden intensity of his emotions. It was just you, after all—a person he didn't need to impress or prove himself to.

Yet, there was an undeniable pull, an intrigue that had always lurked beneath the surface, even if Matthew had never outwardly acknowledged it. Unlike other women in his life, you exuded a unique aura that captivated him. Whether at the rink before or after training sessions, patiently waiting for your brother, you seemed to radiate an effortless calm and genuine happiness. Your vibrant smile lit up the room, your spirit almost ethereal in its positivity. But it was your sharp wit, akin to a sailor's banter, and your quick-fire comebacks that left an indelible impression on Matthew.

And perhaps it was precisely this multifaceted charm that intrigued the Arizona forward more than he cared to admit.

So, as Matthew closed the gap, he mentally bolstered his confidence, preparing to gently interrupt the small talk surrounding you. 

"Hey," he said, tapping you lightly on the shoulder.

You turned, surprise flickering in your eyes before masking it with a smirk. "Back for more, Tkachuk?"

But he just grinned, leaning casually against the wall beside you. "Couldn't stay away."

"Of course not," you replied simply, rolling your eyes playfully as you tried to hide the slight flutter in your stomach that his presence stirred.

There was a brief moment of silence, a hint of awkwardness settling between you, as you both seemed unsure why Matthew had suddenly returned to talk to you. But then he broke the silence with a proposition that caught you off guard.

“How about a dance?”

“What?” you replied, genuinely baffled by his unexpected request.

“How about a dance?” Matthew repeated, his voice more confident this time, his gaze steady on yours.

You blinked in surprise, momentarily at a loss for words. This was not the Matthew Tkachuk you were used to—the cocky, overconfident player who always seemed to know how to push your buttons. This Matthew seemed... different.

Still, you weren’t about to let him off that easily. "You’re joking, right?" you replied, your tone laced with a mix of incredulity and sarcasm.

His smirk widened slightly, yet there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—determination, perhaps a hint of vulnerability. "No, I'm serious. One dance. Unless you're too scared to be seen with me."

And that did it. You never backed down from a challenge, especially not from Matthew Tkachuk. "Scared? Of you? Please."

"So, prove it," he challenged, extending his hand towards you.

With a light huff, you placed your hand in his, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he led you confidently to the centre of the makeshift dance floor. The crowd around you seemed to part, creating a space where only the pulsing beat of the music and the heat between you two existed. The deep bass reverberated through your chest, setting a rhythm that seemed to sync effortlessly with your movements alongside Matthew.

As you danced, the initial tension between you began to melt away. There was an undeniable chemistry, an unspoken understanding that drew you closer despite your history of mutual animosity. Matthew's hand on your waist guided you with a firm yet gentle touch, each step bringing you closer together physically and emotionally. The energy between you was palpable, a magnetic pull that neither of you could resist.

Despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of indifference, you suddenly found yourself swept up in the moment. The barriers you had carefully erected seemed to crumble in the face of this unexpected connection, leaving you both vulnerable yet exhilarated.

Then, as the song drew to an end, Matthew's breath warmed your ear again as he leaned in closer, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief and genuine warmth. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

You pulled back slightly, your eyes locking onto his with a mixture of defiance and something deeper—a flicker of unspoken emotions stirring within you. "I suppose not," you admitted begrudgingly, unable to ignore the rush of exhilaration that his proximity brought.

"Maybe we should do this more often," Matthew suggested, his tone playful yet his eyes revealing a sincerity that surprised you.

But you just raised an eyebrow, your guard instinctively rising. "Don't push your luck, Tkachuk."

He chuckled softly, "fair enough, y/n. Fair enough."

As you then turned to leave the dance floor, determined to regain your composure amidst the fluttering in your stomach—just like when you felt your very first crush—fate decided to intervene in the form of a clumsy collision. Another large body bumped into you, causing their drink to spill onto your dress, and you stumbled backwards, only to find yourself caught by Matthew's quick reflexes.

"Whoa there," Matthew's voice was calm, his arms wrapped securely around you. "Are you alright?"

Once again you met his blue-grey eyes, and you felt your heart racing as you momentarily lost yourself in their depths. "Yeah, I'm fine," you managed to say, your voice revealing a breathlessness you couldn't conceal. "Thanks."

Matthew steadied you, his hands lingering on your waist a fraction longer than necessary, stirring a warmth that spread through you. "No worries," he replied softly, his gaze holding yours with a gentle intensity. "But you can always just say it if you can't resist me."

Rolling your eyes in mock exasperation to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, you teased back, "Don't flatter yourself, Tkachuk. It was just an accident."

His grin widened, mischief glinting in his eyes. "Sure, sure," he responded, his playful manner unwavering. "But accidents can lead to interesting places."

Unable to stifle a laugh at his persistence, you shook your head with amusement. "You're impossible."

"And yet, here we are," Matthew countered, his tone light but his eyes holding a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

But before you could reply, your brother appeared, slightly tipsy and curious. "Hey y/n, everything alright here?" he asked, eyeing you and Matthew with interest.

"Yeah, all good," you replied quickly, stepping back from Matthew's embrace. "Just a minor collision."

Your brother raised an eyebrow but chose not to press further. "Alright, just checking. You know how wild these parties can get."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed, grateful for the interruption. "Thanks."

As your brother then wandered off, Matthew turned to you with a more serious expression. "How about we leave?"

"What?" you asked, surprised by his sudden suggestion.

"Let's get out of here," he repeated, his voice soft but resolute.

Confusion mixed with a touch of curiosity as Matthew took your hand, leading you away from the bustling crowd. Despite your uncertainty, you were drawn to his calm assurance, ready to follow wherever this unexpected night might lead.

Matthew guided you out of the noisy room, his hand warm and firm in yours, fingers intertwined as if they naturally belonged that way. The sounds of the party gradually faded as you stepped into the cool night air, a refreshing change from the warmth and noise inside. You followed him down a path that veered away from the venue, guided by the gentle moonlight casting soft shadows around you.

"Where are we heading?"

He glanced back at you, a mischievous yet reassuring smile playing on his lips. "Just trust me. It’s… quieter."

You walked together in comfortable silence, the lively sounds of the city night slowly giving way to the distant crash of waves. After a few minutes, you arrived at a secluded spot overlooking the beach, the peaceful scene illuminated by the moon's soft glow. The rhythmic sound of waves brushing against the shore provided a soothing backdrop, while stars sparkled brightly above, mirroring the newfound excitement in your heart.

"This is... nice," you confessed softly, taking in the tranquil beauty surrounding you.

Matthew shrugged casually, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the sea met the sky. "Sometimes it's good to escape all the noise. Clears the mind."

You nodded in agreement, savouring the calmness that enveloped both of you. "Yeah, it does."

Standing side by side, immersed in the serene atmosphere, you sensed a shift in the air. It was a moment suspended in time, where words felt unnecessary yet emotions spoke volumes. Despite the unexpectedness of being alone with Matthew Tkachuk, someone you often clashed with, there was an unspoken understanding between you now.

Then, almost as if to break the tension or perhaps to fully embrace it, you spoke up, your voice teasing yet tinged with uncertainty. "Listen, Tkachuk, if you're planning to kidnap me —"

"Then what?" Matthew interrupted, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as he turned and closed the distance between you, his tall figure towering over you. "What would you do if I did kidnap you, huh?" he challenged, his tone teasing yet carrying a hint of something deeper.

You were momentarily stunned into silence, caught off guard by his unexpected boldness.

"Lost for words?" Matthew teased further, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he observed your reaction, his presence exerting a magnetic pull that left you slightly breathless.

"N-no," you managed to stammer out, your mind racing to process the whirlwind of emotions. "I'm just... not sure why you suddenly wanted to be alone with me like this."

Matthew paused, pressing his lips together and his expression softening as he considered his response, his gaze unwaveringly locked with yours.

"Lost for words?" you teased back gently. "I mean, you could have just—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Matthew leaned in and kissed you, a sudden gesture that completely took you by surprise yet somehow felt inevitable. The abruptness made your knees weaken momentarily, leaving you stunned. But then, driven by a newfound desire, you found yourself responding to the kiss, your hands instinctively gripping the front of his shirt.

Matthew cupped your face tenderly with his hands, sending a rush of warmth through you. The kiss was filled with urgency, conveying emotions that words had failed to capture. It was everything unexpected yet strangely fitting.

And when he then pulled back, both of you were breathless, chests rising and falling together. His forehead rested gently against yours, and as you looked into his eyes, you saw a mix of vulnerability and determination that mirrored your own inner turmoil.

"I wanted to be alone with you because... I can't get you out of my head," Matthew confessed softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to shatter the fragile moment between you. "You drive me crazy in ways I can't explain. I just... needed you to know that."

Your heart raced at his honesty, a swirl of emotions overwhelming you. This was Matthew Tkachuk—the guy who always managed to push your buttons—now standing before you with a vulnerability that felt disarmingly real.

"I..." you began, struggling to find words that matched the intensity of the moment. "I've been thinking about you too. More than I'd like to admit."

His eyes brightened with hope and relief upon hearing your confession, a gentle smile forming at the corners of his lips. "So, what do we do now?" he asked softly, his thumb delicately caressing your cheek, anchoring you in the present moment.

You returned his smile, genuine joy spreading across your face. "I suppose we see where this takes us. No more arguing, no more games. Just... us."

Matthew's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with happiness and anticipation. "I like the sound of that."

He then kissed you again, slower this time, his lips conveying a promise of newfound connection and unspoken possibilities. When you finally pulled away, the world around you felt different—brighter, filled with potential.

And as you walked hand in hand back towards the distant sounds of music and laughter, there was a renewed energy crackling between you. You knew your brother would notice the change immediately. Always protective, he might initially confront Matthew, but you trusted him to ultimately understand.

[screamingcrows]

Afternoon tea - Dr. Ratio x gn!reader

This was requested by @yinyuedijun as part of the initiative by @/ficsforgaza Thank you for donating and requesting from me; If anyone else wants to support the effort, here are links to their page with directions and a masterlist of writers participating.

Tags: soft, fluff, implied friends to maybe lovers, mildly suggestive, acts of service as a love language Note: istg feed this to an ai, asmr thing, lore.fm or the like and I will have Ixodes scapularis at your heels Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked

"Come again?" Ratio had an abundance of patience when it came to you, but even so, it was difficult to keep disbelief from making his words a little more clipped than usual.

Without hesitation, the book in his hand was closed and found a home atop the worn coffee table, his body twisting to glance at you in the kitchen. Surely, he had misheard you. There was no way you would-

"A codpiece, Veritas. Have you ever considered getting or even making one?"

The way heat flooded to his face made the wish to hide under a familiar alabaster head resurface, an urge not often felt in your company. It was frustrating really, somehow you always made him loose his footing, and what on earth could have compelled you to ask such a ridiculous question?

Wearing the piece around you would be too great a shame to not see clearly how the light warmed whenever it touched your smile, how gracefully you moved around the table with a tray of freshly baked scones, the crinkles around your eyes when you laughed. Always your eyes, attentive and light, ensnaring him whenever he sought answers from you, and he would let them without hesitation. That was a truth.

If perfection existed, it had to be contained within you.

"Well, have you? They have been very fashionable is what I've heard. I'm sure you could cause an uproar if you made one out of that mineral you like so much," amusement was clear from your tone, and as always your words were most likely carefully picked.

"Alabaster was simply fitting, I would hardly call it my favorite. You should know better than thinking me rash enough to act on your whims, I have no intention of causing any uproar at the University unrelated to my teaching material," a scoff left his lips before he continued, "and don't think I missed your little 'have been'."

He enjoyed these peaceful afternoons, as peaceful as any room could be with you present at least, but it was not unwelcome. What had started as a simple apology on your end, having ruined one of his books by accident, had quickly turned into a weekly occurrence when it became clear how much you both enjoyed what you'd taken to calling 'tea parties'.

Your company was refreshing, carefree but wise, and utterly without restraint when it curiosity took hold, the routine of your little gatherings were pleasant while still allowing ample room for variety in topic of conversation. Lately you'd begun requesting taking turns reading aloud to the other, which he had no problem indulging. A small chuckle slipped past his lips, carefully concealed as clearing his throat.

Upon lifting the delicate porcelain to his lips, it was impossible not to notice how your were grinning at him from across the table, already curled up and comfortable as usual. There was no reason not to inquire, the beaming look in your eyes having already summoned butterflies inside his body. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore how pleasant your company was, especially on days such as today where he'd showed up unprompted after work, yearning more for your voice than he did a long bath.

Or perhaps, inviting you home to bathe with him would've been the optimal course of action?

Oh that wasn't good. He shifted uncomfortably, one leg crossing over the other when blood gathered in an inconvenient place. That ridiculous garment you'd suggested would have been a blessing in his current predicament.

"You're clearly enjoying yourself, did I not notice you brewing us a new tea?" He set his cup down, eyeing it with skepticism as he awaited whatever had you looking so giddy, the sight of your lips stretching in a smile enough to have his heart struggling to break free.

How he wished he could've cursed out loud then and there, how he had been foolish enough to go months without being able to identify exactly what the budding feeling in his chest was, was far beyond him at present moment.

"I fixed your book. It's not perfect, but I did my best, and bookbinding was a lot harder than expected, so it took a while… Sorry," there was such pride in your eyes that he could practically feel his heart about to burst.

With a slightly shaky hand, the lightheadedness from his arousal only intensified by the sheer disbelief as he accepted the leatherbound book. By no means had it been valuable before, holding neither monetary nor sentimental value, but as Ratio set it inconspicuously in his lap, he couldn't help but trace his fingers along the now slightly uneven spine, knowing there was only one thing he could ever treasure more than this.

[heavenlyvision]

When hell freezes over

Word count: 5.1k

Pairing: Bi-Han x afab!Reader

A/N: I make no apologies for what I’ve written, I do however, apologise for this coming out before part four of the Crushing series. I saw God (Bi-Han in mk 1) and got possessed by the Holy Spirit (horniness). I’ve noticed tumblr is lacking in fics for my mk cravings, which resulted in this. This fic was initially going to be 1k of only smut, but I got carried away and added a minor plot line :3

Summary: Bi-Han keeps staring at you and you don’t know why but it really starts to get on your nerves, especially when he won’t even admit that he is doing it.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, creampie, voyeurism (they fuck outside but they don’t get caught), strong language, pure filth, minor plot, mean Bi-Han, Bi-Han is ooc prolly but he’s also a bitch still, so not completely ooc

Staying at the fire temple means you’ve seen Bi-Han around, always with a scowl on his face and that’s if he’s taken his mask off, but you can always tell he’s scowling under the mask too, with the way his eyebrows pinch. You’ve never actually held a conversation with him, he’s a bit unapproachable and when you do speak, he usually grunts in response. His way of acknowledging you without actually acknowledging you.

Lord Liu Kang has been bringing all of Earth Realms potential heroes together and training them at the Fire Temple, you just so happened to be one of the first heroes he came looking for. You have power, you’re not disillusioned though, you can see in the way Lord Liu Kang moves and speaks, that he already knows who his hero is and it’s not you, which you’re fine with. The idea of fighting against Outworld’s warriors is, to be blunt, scary. You mean to say, that the idea of fighting Sub-zero frightens you, you cannot imagine what kind of formidable opponents live in the other realms.

The other’s Liu Kang has managed to gather are all very kind but also intimidating, you’re surrounded by powerful men all day and that sets you on edge a bit, as a result you tend to be spending more time by yourself in the quieter areas of the temple. They’re not hard to find if you look for them, and the temple has a sense of tranquillity. Ever since you’ve been here, you find yourself meditating now, more than you ever have in your whole life.

On this particular day, you’re sitting on a large rock away from the temple facing all the greenery surrounding the area. Footsteps approaching you bring your awareness back to your environment, but you don’t move or open your eyes, you aren’t really in the mood to be disturbed at this current moment, for all they know, you could be really close to reaching enlightenment.

The person moves to stand in front of you but doesn’t say anything, you try to hold steady and focus but their breathing is disturbing you. In the end your resolve gives in and your shoulders slump as you look up at the perpetrator of disturbance.

You feel a bit silly as you realise that the disturbance is Lord Liu Kang himself, “I could’ve been close to enlightenment only to be disturbed by you at the last moment.”

He looks amused but only slightly, “If you had been that close to enlightenment, I doubt my presence would’ve disturbed you.”

“You can’t know that,” you pout a touch.

He gives you a polite smile in return, “Dinner is going to be served soon, will you grace us with your presence?”

He’s giving you a light ribbing; you’ve been here a while and like to think you’ve gained rapport with him. The way he will indulge you slightly makes you think you’ve succeeded in landing on his good side, though you’re not certain he has a bad side, and if he does, you don’t want to be anywhere near it.

“I hadn’t realised it had gotten this late,” looking up at the sky you can see the sun setting, you’ve been out here far longer than you had expected.

Suddenly, you feel eyes on the back of your head and a shiver runs down your spine in response, without turning around you acknowledge the secondary presence you didn’t initially register.

“Good evening to you too, Sub-zero.”

“Mmmf,” he grunts in your direction as a response.

You address Lord Liu Kang, “he seems gruntier than usual.”

“Perhaps, he is the one who disturbed your enlightenment,” he dips his head towards you as he says this, in an attempt to keep the joke between the two of you.

You chuckle in response before leaping down from the rock, “Alright, let’s eat!”

❆˖°

Dinner with everyone is always a touch rowdy, it never used to be, it used to be quieter but with the additions of Kung Lao, Raiden, Kenshi and especially Johnny Cage, it has gotten livelier around the temple. You find that Kuai Liang, Tomas and Bi-Han frequent dinners here now too, you suspect that them never actually leaving anymore is due to the fact that Lord Liu Kang has gathered all his potential warriors.

Everyone has bets on who they think it is and most of them are betting on themselves but you’re certain Lord Liu Kang has his pick and you’re betting it’s Raiden, the way he looks and considers him makes you think he’s his top pick.

You feel his eyes on you again from across the table, the shiver he sends through you running down your spine again. You aren’t sure why your body reacts to him like that, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it either. Preferably, he would stop staring at you so your body would stop reacting, but he is such a starer, and an angry starer too.

Looking up you lock eyes with Bi-Han, but he doesn’t look away, typical, you think, you look away instead and attempt to stay engaged in the conversations happening around you. But you know he is still staring at you and to be honest, it’s starting to get on your nerves. Taking a deep breath, you look back over at him again and he is still staring at you, you’re getting pissed now, what is his problem. He can be scary but scary is only scary until you’re annoyed.

“What is your problem?” You direct at him quietly; you don’t want everyone at the table seeing you starting a fight with the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei.

He looks a little taken aback by your bluntness but only for a second, “nothing.” He shrugs.

His voice is stupid and deep, and you’re annoyed at him because why is he still fucking staring at you. People normally have enough humility to look away when confronted but he looks nonplussed by your angry confrontation.

“Well, then stop staring at me,” you shoot back, trying to remain unnoticed by the rest of the table.

“I am not staring,” he replies coolly.

What the fuck? “You definitely are though; I can feel your eyes stabbing me.”

He purses his lips in response, “My eyes are not capable of stabbing you.”

You’re frowning now, deeply, “Well… they are!” Your voice raises a bit with your increasing annoyance. Why won’t he just admit that his eyes are stabbing you.

Unfortunately, everyone has caught onto your little argument now, which prompts Lord Liu Kang to interject.

“Is everything okay?” He directs the question at you.

“Tell your guard dog to stop stabbing me with his stupid eyes,” you reply, completely exasperated with how dumb all of this is.

From the other end of the table, you hear Johnny start laughing, thud, and that was Kenshi kicking him under the table in response, attempting to get him to stop.

Johnny exclaims, “Ouch, what the fu–”

“– I am not his guard dog!” Bi-Han is angry now, he was mildly amused before, you suspect you’ve managed to hit a nerve. “I am the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei!”

You roll your eyes at him, “You’re the Grandmaster of stabbing me with your eyes!” You’re not quite sure why you’ve picked this hill to die on, but you’re committed now.

He looks pissed and you feel like you should be intimidated but you’re so irked by his behaviour that you wouldn’t care if he was God itself.

Lord Liu Kang clears his throat from the head of the table, “Maybe you should both apologise to each other and move past this.”

“No.” Both Bi-Han and you reply at the same time.

“Just admit you were staring, and I will apologise to you,” you direct this at Bi-Han.

“I wasn’t staring,” he leans back with his big stupid, defined, arms crossed over his chest.

You feel like you’re going to have an aneurysm, why is he committed to lying about this. “I know you were staring.”

“How would you know that?” He asks.

Is he being intentionally dense, “how could I not know?” You’re glaring back at him.

Lord Liu Kang clasps his hands together, a loud clap sound ringing out across the silence that had fallen over the group. Well, it was almost silent, Johnny is still muffling his laughing down the other end of the table.

“Thank you for dinner, Lord Liu Kang, I’ll be returning to my quarters early tonight.” You stand up and walk out of the room.

You miss the completely confused and exhausted look Kuai Liang gives his older brother.

❆˖°

Tonight, you find yourself tossing and turning, the evenings usually leave you a bit restless and you will fairly regularly leave your quarters to wander the grounds. Though, this evening you are restless for a separate reason, the result is the same, you’re leaving your quarters and wandering the Fire Temple aimlessly, inspecting things you’ve seen daily for months now.

You have got to be kidding, you think to yourself as you feel the all too familiar shiver run down your spine and set of eyes on the back of your head.

Your head drops in defeat and a deep sigh is pulled from your chest, “if I tell you to stop staring, would you? Or would you say you weren’t staring?”

You can feel him come up beside you, “Guess…”

“…I wasn’t staring,” you both say it in tandem, but you attempt to drop your voice as low as it can go to mock him.

He grunts in disapproval at you.

You aren’t sure why he’s come up to you, you’ve sequestered yourself off to a private area of the temple specifically so you could remain undisturbed, but not only did he find you, he fucking stabbed you with his stupid pretty, stupid angry eyes again. You feel like you’re not going to win whatever this battle is against him.

“Genuinely, why do you keep staring at me, and you can’t say you don’t because I know you do, I can feel when your eyes are on me,” you’re getting tired of this now, you just want an answer from him.

He doesn’t speak for a long moment; he’s probably considering how to word what he’s going to say next. All you know is if he says he doesn’t stare at you, you’re literally going to hit him in the face.

“Consider your words carefully, I am tempted to punch you right now,” you relay your feelings to him as a warning.

“I don’t stare–”

That does it, you swing around at him and go to throw a forceful punch aimed square at his nose, you’re aiming to break it. Unfortunately, for all his ego, he is indisputably more skilled than you and easily dodges your punch by moving his head to the side before he catches your forearm with one of his hands. His other hand reaches out to grab at your other arm and pulls you closer to his body, both your arms being held between your bodies. His strength keeping you in place, with his stupid well-defined arms.  

You’re a little annoyed at yourself for bothering to warn him at all, you probably could’ve at least grazed him if you hadn’t.

Scowling at him you say, “I shouldn’t have given you a warning.”

“Your hit wouldn’t have landed either way, it was sloppy.”

“It was not!” Your punch was fine, he’s just being rude.

“I was trying to say I don’t stare at you,” you try to wiggle free of his grip, you swear he’s looking for a fight. His hands grab you tighter and pulls your forearms to rest on his chest, you’re forced to look up at him, “Stop, struggling, you’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

You gawk at him, “Are you kidding me? You’re the one who won’t admit the simple fact that you’ve been staring at me!”

He looks exhausted with you as he rolls his eyes, when did this switch? He is the unreasonable one, you were willing to apologise hours ago!

“I gaze at you.” He says it like he doesn’t have to explain further.

“I’m almost certain that is the exact same thing as staring at me.” You’re confused.

He grunts and turns his head to the side sharply, “You make everything difficult.”

“ME?” You. Are. Confused.

His head snaps back to stare you in the eyes, “YES! I look at you, I gaze at you, I find you interesting and that makes me mad. This is your fault, take responsibility.”

Oh. My. God. Does he have a crush on you? He likes you and is mad at you about it. Talk about emotionally stunted.

“I am not responsible for how you feel about me.”

“You should be.”

There’s a beat of silence between the two of you, he’s still holding you close.

“You undo me.” He says it quiet, like he’s ashamed of the confession but it’s the highest form of flattery you have ever received.

Your eyes are round in shock as you look at him, you won’t lie, you find yourself drawn to him. Not in spite of his intimidating, stoic nature but because of it, he’s a force of nature to be reckoned with and you think without even realising you walked headfirst into the eye of his storm. You want him and you hate that you do, but you suspect he feels the same way.

“Let me go, please.” You ask him.

He obeys your will, immediately dropping your arms but neither of you make a move to step away from the other. Your heart is racing in your chest as you continue to look up at him, you want to kiss him, but you don’t know how he’ll react to your hands reaching for him after you just tried to deck him.

You don’t have to wonder for long, his hands reach for your face, both of them landing on either side of it. He has such large hands.

“I want to kiss you and you’re going to have to tell me not to, if you don’t want me to.”

You say nothing because you really want him to kiss you and he does; he leans down towards you and when your lips meet you feel like your knees might give out.

His kiss is gentler than you would’ve expected him capable of, he holds you like you’ll break, like he’s all too aware of his strength and is making a conscious effort to not hurt you. One of his hands moves from your face, down your body and grabs at your hip, the other moving behind your neck. Your own hands move to grab at the material on his chest, holding on.

He pulls away from you, only enough to talk, his lips still brushing against yours as he speaks “Fuck, open your mouth more.”

His words shoot straight through your body, you feel like you’re shaking. You do as your told and he moves your head with the hand on the back your neck slightly. When he moves to kiss you again it’s at an angle; his mouth slotting against yours, the kiss deepening. You’re feeling lightheaded as he starts to kiss you with urgency, less gentle. His tongue licking into your mouth has a whimper leaving you against your will. He smirks against your mouth at the sound and pulls away from you.

No one has ever kissed you like that in your life, he’s so much more skilled with his mouth than you would’ve thought. You blink tears away from your eyes as you both stand close together his lips brushing against yours, teasing you.

“Kiss me again, please.”

“mmm, you’re so much more agreeable like this.” He’s smug, you don’t like that his words make your pussy throb.

Opening your mouth, you go to put up a fight, but he puts his mouth back on yours causing you to whine in response. His hands grab you tighter at the sound, and he begins walking you backwards until your back rests against the building you were standing behind.

His other hand moves from behind your neck and down your body, stopping at your tit and pawing at it. You let out a gasp at the feeling, your hands move from his chest to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. His hand leaves your breast and travels the length of your body, landing on your thigh, he pulls your leg up to rest on his hip.

He won’t move any closer, and you think he’s trying to be polite and not push you further than you want, but you want him so badly. Whining against him you use your leg to pull his hips into yours and he grunts against you.

Parting your lips again he looks at you, he seems pleased with the look on your face, “You look so pretty, eyes all glazed over from a kiss.”

The words are mocking but your reactions to him seem to inflate his ego, not that he needs the boost.

“I’ve never been kissed like that,” you find yourself admitting to him.

A faux pity look falls across his features, “Poor, sweet, girl, never been kissed properly.” He noses at the side of your face before his lips rest against your ear. He blows cool air against it and an involuntary shiver runs down your spine.

“mmf, not fair, you’re teasing me.” He’s mean but its turning you on to no end.

“Yeah, but I think you like it,” he pulls back to look you in the eyes again, “isn’t that right?”

A blush breaks out across your skin in response to him, you can tell it’s not a rhetorical question, but you don’t answer him.

Your lack of a response displeases him, his voice comes a little firmer, “I want an answer when I ask a question.”

“Yes, I like it.” Being forced to admit that you like how mean he is to you is embarrassing.

“I know you do.” He’s smug again, not that he ever stopped.

His lips are so close to yours, you lean forward slightly to kiss him, but he pulls away at the last second. Your head drops back against the wall, and he chuckles at you. Leaning forward again, he kisses your neck, before lightly sucking marks into it.

He mouths at the length of your neck, savouring the way you twitch and try to contain the noises you make in response. The hand holding your hip moves under your robe to cup your pussy through your panties, a whine louder than you would’ve liked is pulled from you, your blush deepening at the sound.

He talks into your neck as his fingers trace the seam of your cunt through your underwear, “You’re so sensitive, react to the smallest of my touches.”

His fingers continue to touch you through your panties, two of his fingers moving to part your lips through them. An embarrassingly wet squelching sound results from his actions. A strangled noise comes from deep in his chest and he moves his head back and looks up for a second, “Fuckin – you are so fucken, wet and I’ve not even touched you properly.” He’s looking you back in your eyes, his gaze dark, he looks like he’s being eaten alive, or wants to eat you alive.

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, he talks so much, in fact, you think this is the most he’s spoken to you without you having to reply.

“Bi-Han, please –”

“Mmm say my name again.” He’s lightly grazing the seam of your pussy, never touching your clit.

“Bi-Han,” you repeat his name for him.

His voice sounds strained, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

The nickname he’s graced you with makes your heart skip, “please, touch me… properly.”

“Since you asked so sweetly.” His hand leaves you temporarily to slip down the front of your underwear, his fingers slide through your cunt, and he can feel just how wet you are now. “Jesus – ” He curses at the feel of you.

His mouth captures yours in a heated kiss again as his middle finger slowly enters you, you clench around it and you both moan into the kiss. His thumb slowly rubs circles on your clit, you jump at the contact, sensitive from neglect and desire. You’re trying to hold back whines and moans, still aware that you’re out in the open. Bi-Han doesn’t seem to care and if he does, he isn’t letting on.

He pulls back from your mouth, “God, you’re fucken – how am I gonna – fuck, look at you.”

You’re trying to grind down on his hand, desperate for more, anything he’ll give you; you’ll take; you just need more.

Gasping you say, “more Bi-Han, please.”

“Always asking so sweetly,” He slips his ring finger inside you, filling you up more. One of your hands moves from behind his neck to cover your mouth, attempting to muffle the moans trying to come out.

Both of his hands are occupied, one on your thigh holding your leg to his hip and the other stuffing your dripping wet cunt full, the sounds coming from you are making him feral and he wants your hand off your mouth. Now.

“Remove your hand, now.” He shoots you a fierce glare and you comply straight away, hand removing from your mouth and grabbing onto the arm of the hand inside you. His fingers move quicker inside you, reaching deep, hitting something that’s never been touched, your head falls back, and a whine comes from deep in your chest.

“Fuuuck, thas it, thas what I was looking for,” Bi-Han seems overjoyed at your reaction, your eyes wet and glassy from pleasure.

You aren’t sure if your hand is trying to push him away or pull him closer, your breaths are coming faster and another moan is pulled from you as he speeds up his thumb on your clit.

“fff – Bi-Han, I can’t, is too much.” It feels too good, it’s never felt like this before.

“Shuddup, you’re fine,” He leans forward so his mouth is by your ear again, “You’ve been doing so well, baby, come for me and then I’ll stuff you full of my dick, mmm?”

“ah ah, it’s different, too much – ngh –”

“Poor baby, never been finger fucked this good, mmm?” He doesn’t slow down; it feels like he speeds up.

Your moans hit a higher pitch and you feel like you’re falling apart into the palm of his hand, “thas it, doing so good,” he keeps whispering praise into your ear and then he blows cool air against your ear again. The shiver that runs through your body has your eyes crossing as you cum all over his fingers and palm with a shout of his name. He moans at the feel of your cunt spasming around his fingers.

“Thas fucken it, good girl, shit –” His fingers continue pumping into you until you start flinching away from him.

He removes his fingers from your pulsing pussy, and sucks both of them clean before shoving them in your mouth. You suck his spit and your cum from his fingers, his eyes glazing over as he watches you suck on his fingers.

He retracts his fingers from your mouth slowly and traces them down your chin, neck and chest, leaving behind a wet trail as he goes.

“Can we have sex now, please?” You ask him, you feel insatiable, he makes you insatiable.

He looks like he might melt into a puddle on the floor at your words, “yes, fuckin hell, you have beautiful manners, sweet thing.”

He pulls his pants down enough for his dick to be released from its confines, and, he was right before, how is he going to fit. “Bi-Han, you might be too big.”

“Jesu – you really know how to inflate a mans ego,” you aren’t meaning to, you are genuinely concerned he might not completely fit, “we’re gonna fucken make it fit, you okay with that?” he asks you.

You nod your head instantly, you can take it, you want to take it.

“Fucken, eager,” He states, if anyone else had said it you’d feel offended, but you know he means it as a compliment.

He spits on his hand and grabs his dick, lubing it up to make the glide easier. The display is filthy and has you wanting to get on your knees for him.

“You ready?” he asks you, and every time he checks on you it has you going dizzy.

“I’m ready,” you smile up at him, as he moves your panties to the side.

“Fuck, alright, try and relax.” He guides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing the head of it against your clit.

Slowly, he begins to push the head of his dick into your pussy hole, it’s already a tight fit. You reach out and place your palm on his shoulder, indicating to him to hold still for a minute. He stops moving forward with just his tip in you, a pinched look on his face, like he’s in pain.

“Goddamn, you’ve got such a – ngh, tight little cunt,” he sputters out, he’s doing deep breathing exercises as he waits for your okay to keep going, “mmph, trying not to cum like a fucken teenager, you’ve got a – ngh – beautiful pussy.”

You involuntarily clench around him at his words, and he grunts in response, “please, keep going, Bi-Han.”

He nods his head and continues to slowly inch into you, pausing every now and again to give you time to adjust to him. When he’s finally fully seated inside you, he lets out a deep guttural groan, you can feel his chest rumble with it. He’s so fucking big and you feel so full of him.

“Got the tightest pussy I’ve ever been in, Jesus – ngh – such a perfect – ” your cunt flutters around him at his words, “mph, you fucken like that don’t you?”

You don’t fully register that he’s asked you a question because he’s started fucking you now, and it nearly has you going cross eyed.

“Hey! I fucken – mph – asked you a question,” you make eye contact with him, eyes glazed as you look at him, “ffffucken beautiful, you look perfect, just, like, this, split open on my – ngh – cock.” He’s barely keeping it together as he starts fucking up into you.

“I said, you fucken like it when I talk to you, mmh?” He asks you again and you understand him this time.

Nodding your head you reply, “Yes I – ah – I love it when you talk to me.” You’re practically a whimpering mess at this point, “Can you go faster, plea- ah –”

Your question is cut off by his immediate acceleration in thrusts, he wanted to fuck you faster as much as you wanted him too, maybe more. Looking at the pinched look on his face you can guess he’s still holding himself back, still too aware of his own strength.

“Hah – harder, please, Bi-Han.” You can feel his dick twitch at the sound of his name coming from your lips.

“Fffff, like it rough, do you, sweet girl?” He huffs.

You agree, you think you’d agree to anything he asked of you right now.

“You are so sweet, compliant when you’re filled with my dick” he chuckles at you, but his words have your pussy clenching around him, breaking his laugh into a broken moan.

You’re gonna come, “Bi-Han, mm gonna come, please.”

“go on then, fucken – nghf – good girl, sweeeet fucken cunt. Cover my dick in your cum, go on.” Your eyes prickle with tears, you don’t think you’ve ever been this aroused in your whole life.

He’s staring down at where you’re connected, obsessed with way your cunt is creaming on his cock, forming a ring around the base of his dick, has him almost feral.

“Fuck, fuck, Bi-Han, I’m – mmph – ” He cuts off your words with a deep kiss, tongue in your mouth, taking your breath away. Bi-Han’s thumb reaches for your clit and starts rubbing harsh and fast circles into it, his precise movements and unrelenting thrusts has you coming on his dick, hard. You throw your head back, removing your lips from his, your vision cuts off dark and you can barely hear anything with the force of which you cum.

Your mouth opening in a silent scream and then a series of whimpers spill from your lips. When you can speak, you’re praising Bi-Han, wet slapping sounds continuing, he’s not stopped thrusting chasing his own peak.

“you look fucken perfect when you cum, look – ngh – so fucked out, such a good girl – taking my cock, mph,” He’s close you can tell, his dick is twitching inside you, “the sounds you make are – sshit – mmph – angelic.”

He’s such a flatterer, your cunt jumps in after shock, you decide you wanna try something. You pull his head towards you, moving your lips to his ear to tell him, “made me feel so good, Grandmaster, never cum that hard in my – ngh – life.”

You were right, he liked that, loved being called Grandmaster, his grunts and groans get louder, tailing off into whimpers. His head drops to your shoulder, resting there for a bit.

“Where – hah – where do you want it?” He asks.

“Inside please, Grandmaster, I want it, in – mmph – me.”

He whimpers at your words, “Ahh – fuck you’re gonna fucking kill me, sweet girl – nngh.”

And then he’s coming, he fills you, both of you moaning at the feeling of him releasing all of his cum inside of you, he turns his head into your neck and bites you, the shock of it has your cunt clenching on his dick.

He’s making the most amazing noises, grunting and groaning at the feel of you wrapped around him. His own cum dripping down the sides of his cock, he’s staring at it now, watching the way he moves in and out of you, the way his cum leaks out of you, down your thighs, and down his cock.

You both stay connected for a bit afterwards, basking in your highs before parting. When Bi-Han does pull out, his fingers move to shove the cum leaking out of you back inside before shifting your panties back in place. He gently places your leg back down, before tucking himself back in his pants.

You stay resting your weight up against the wall, you’re not certain you can walk, your legs feel like they might cave in if you try to move.

“I like you,” Bi-Han says simply.

“I’d hope so,” you reply, smiling brightly at him. He looks soft for you. “I suppose, I like you too, even if you do stare at me.”

“I don’t stare.”

❆˖°

Part two

A/N: The end, I’m interested in making a second part for this if people want it, I’m also willing to write for almost every mk1 character. I disappeared because I inhaled the new game, long time mk whore over here. Requests are open if anyone wants to ask for someone specific. And if any of my Crushing series peoples read this, I am writing the fourth part, and it will definitely come out this month!

[krypticcafe]

Y/N, staring at König: I bet I could take him

Soap: ... in a fight, right?

Y/N: :)

Soap: In a fight, right?

Alternatively, little ooc but

König: I could take you on

Y/N: ... like in a fight?

König: Ye- yes?

Y/N: Oh. Pity.

König: What.

Take On Me

rating: teen

pairing(s): König x GN!Reader

warning(s): suggestive themes, language, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as a sergeant, fluff at the end, possible grammar errors

a/n: decided to make this a one-shot! I enjoy writing and reading sexual tension, but ironically, I'm always on the fence about writing full smut. oh and please ignore the poor quality of the fight scene, I can't write them for shit :')

synopsis: fight or not, you're pretty sure you could take him on.

The room was filled with the smell of sweat and leather as soldiers took on their training time in the base's surprisingly sizable gym. Several were utilizing the exercise machines, some simply resting on the benches, and others making light conversation.

Currently, you were in the midst of putting your sparring partner in a deadlock, motivated by the small crowd that cheered and winced at the sight. With a face flushed red, your opponent tapped out and a chorus of boisterous laughter, groans, and exclamations rang around you. You threw yourself off of them, helping your partner up and thanking them while also throwing in a compliment on their performance as a show of good sportsmanship. As you stepped off the platform, you were given several pats on the back and comments. While it was definitely an ego boost, you were by no means the best in the base, but people knew that you were on the 141 for a reason, and your combat skills were nothing to laugh about.

Feeling a harsh slap on the back, you turned and gripped their arm, twisting it at an uncomfortable angle since your body was still working on instinct.

"Ow ow ow-! It's me!" Soap yelped, but you further clenched your hand, "I was just going to congratulate you! Christ almighty, you've got a grip-"

"You scotsmen have a real funny way of congratulating people then," you quipped, letting go of his arm, "Honestly Soap, you should know better than smacking a soldier right after they get out of the ring."

He muttered under his breath, holding his sore wrist to his chest in mock offense and sighing, "How about I treat you to a water then? Consider it an apology of sorts."

"Oh you mean the jug on the bench that's just about 4 meters away? Why, I'd be so honored to have you as my escort, Sergent McTavish."

"Awa' n bile yer heid!" He scoffed with amusement, "Can't even let me do something nice without takin' a stab at me, can ya?"

You shook your head, laughing with him while you two went to grab a drink. He at least had the courtesy to pass you a towel to wipe your sweat off. Hanging it around your shoulders, you grabbed a bottle and started chugging. Tilting your head back, you noticed in the corner of your eye another match that was going on. It wasn't surprising, considering how multiple sparring matches would go on simultaneously all the time. But it wasn't the match itself that got your attention, but rather the person that was in it.

You recognized him instantly with how he gained notoriety for his size (no, not in that way, but you'd be lying if you said the thought hasn't crossed your mind for the briefest of moments) amongst the soldiers, even though he was part of KorTac. His presence led you to the conclusion that SpecGru and KorTac were most likely holding another joint operation together again, unsurprising since they're practically sister companies. Not to mention, the two of you had small talk in the past in passing from previous missions together and whenever you bumped into each other on base.

Staring for a while more, you watched as he viciously pummeled his opponent into the ground, barely breaking a sweat. Catching sight of his eyes behind his dark hood, you caught the way they lit up at his victory, as if delighted by the violence in an almost animalistic manner. It made your arms prick with goosebumps, you didn't want to know why. It was a surprise to find him in such a state since every time you've seen him, his eyes were usually darting around like a skittish lamb, contradicting his appearance in every sense. But who were you to question it? After all, your own lieutenant was feared like the grim reaper in the battlefield, but at base with the others, he was just another British geezer at heart.

Soap whistled and stood by you, eyeing the way you were fixed on the match in front of you. "Looks like someone's caught yer eye, aye?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah I guess." You hummed, not taking your eyes off the Austrian as he pinned his opponent down.

Soap raised a brow and smirked. It wasn't hard for him to catch on, but he was surprised to see you so entranced by a person for once. "I see... well, I don't blame you. The guy sticks out like a sore thumb and he's an absolute unit."

You nodded absent-mindedly, a little too focused on the way König flexed while keeping his enemy down. Much to your demise, his shirt was painfully tight-fitting, especially when damp with perspiration and christ, you felt like you had to tear your eyes from staring at his thighs for too long. How can someone be built so... so...

Delicious?

Before you knew it, the fight ended and König was beginning to head your way, most likely to grab water. Without thinking, you turned to the side and muttered under your breath, "I could probably take him."

"Oooo, cocky now, aren't ya?" Soap laughed, missing the message. You, on the other hand, tried to keep your composure, rubbing the towel on your neck.

"Uh, sure... You could put it that way."

The scotsman had a look of confusion and was about to ask you to elaborate until he saw König pull up beside you. "Oi, König! You did a real good job out there-"

Looking at Soap, you saw a mirth in his eyes that you immediately recognized, your eyes widening as you began to mouth silent protests to him and gesturing for him to 'not do whatever the fuck you're thinking of doing'.

"-you think you can handle another round? You two already know each other, right? I was thinkin' you could use a change of pace, and what's better than going against a prized member of the 141?"

You watched as König eyed you up and down cautiously, and you had to resist letting a shiver run down your spine. Why did he have to look at you like that? You knew the bare minimum of the guy, and yet you were acting like a fool in your own head.

After he was done sizing you up, he nodded, his eyes lighting up, "I could take you on."

"Like in a fight?" Once more, your mouth had outrun your brain, probably fried from the way he was practically checking you out.

"Y-Yes?" König stuttered, caught off-guard by your bizarre question. What other connotation could his words have had?

"Oh. Pity." You mumbled with a sigh, tossing your water bottle to the side along with your towel, beginning to walk towards the sparring box.

"Wait what-"

You cut off König's confusion as you hopped over into the box, folding your arms and leaning on the ropes. "So we gonna fight or what, soldier?"

"I- uh," He paused, trying to get his mind into the present. He shook his head and nodded, "Yes, sergent."

There was something about the way he strided over to the ring and only needed to swing his legs over the ropes to get in that made your heart beat twice, or maybe it was the way he looked back at you, the two of you staring each other down like hungry animals preparing for a cage match.

Though your hunger was that of a different kind if you were being honest.

Soap stood outside on the side of the box, playing referee for the match. At his signal, you set yourself at a stance and got a feel for the area, preparing yourself.

As you expected, König struck first. After all, you weren't just staring at him during his match, you were watching as well, which gave you a bit of an unfair advantage, but you figured it'd balance out his size advantage. Moving to the side, you followed up your dodge with a quick jab to his side. You were about to make another, but he had more control over his reflexes than you thought. He blocked it and countered by hitting you square between your shoulder and chest. The two of you were even.

He was a formidable opponent, certainly not at the level of Ghost or Price, but good enough that you'd think he'd ought to be a candidate for the 141. Sure, his technique was sloppy, but if he cleaned it up, then combined with his strength, he could be one hell of a soldier. Soap seemed to take note of his potential, too, giving König tips here and there. You'd almost forgotten this was supposed to be practice for him.

You were starting to grow exhausted as the fight went on, it hadn't been that long, but you two were lasting for quite a while in the ring, and neither side had held back. At several points throughout the fight, one of you would get in a hit or move in a way that had Soap cringing and gritting his teeth, watching at the edge of his seat. Hmph. At least someone was enjoying themselves.

While the fight was a nice way for you to get an eyeful of your opponent, it wasn't that enjoyable when you were panting and sweating your ass off, counting all the non-sexy bruises you'd wake up with later. Wanting to put things to an end, you looked for the right chance, dropping and sliding past his legs before getting up and propelling yourself forward. With a leap, you launched yourself onto König's back, latching onto it and pulling him down with all your weight. Just before he'd come crashing down, you swung yourself around his torso, shifting to his front so you wouldn't get crushed in the fall and further push him down.

He went down like a tree, shaking the platform as he made contact. Soap hollered in awe, whistling at your takedown. "That's our sergeant! Steamin' Jesus, wasn't that a show?"

You were panting hard from the stunt, but you managed to give König a sly grin, leaning down that you were just inches away from his veil, "So whaddya say König? You done, or you want go another round?"

"I- I'm done-" His voice strained, writhing under you since the pressure on his chest was making it hard to breathe properly. In addition, he was trying his best to not stare too much since even he was aware of how this looked, with you settled on his chest, knees on either side of his head and effectively trapping him with your thighs, not to mention your hands held his wrists above his head, locking him in a very compromising position. Your view was just as nice, giving you a good look at his face, or at least what you could see of it. A part of you wanted to say it was only because they were the only thing of him you could see, but you felt your heart flutter when the two of you locked eyes. It never had occurred to you, but his eyes were a sage green with a muddled ring of crystal blue that glimmered under the lights above, and the way he looked at you alone almost made you breathless again.

When were his eyes so damn pretty?

"Good choice." Although you played it off as a friendly threat, in reality, you were relieved he didn't want to go again, far too weary for another round and undoubtedly, you'd lose that one.

Rolling off his back, you stood up and outstretched a hand to him. Even though you couldn't see his full face, you could tell he appreciated the gesture by the friendly crinkle of his eyes and the way he took your hand, yelping when you yanked him up.

"Whoops, too hard? My bad."

König shook his head, "Oh no, not at all, I was just surprised. Ah, and thank you for helping me practice, Sergeant. It helped me realize a few things I need to improve."

"It's no problem at all, König, I'm glad I could help. All that matters is that you got something useful out of that loss and turn it into a gain."

"Price really must be getting to you."

"Shut it MacTavish."

The two of you stepped out of the ring and started to pack your things, further discussing improvements for König and some for yourself. Soap left a little early to "attend business with Ghost" (probably to ramble about the fight), to which you cursed him out with a glare for ditching you so abruptly. Now, it was just you and the Austrian in the gym.

"Well, I'll be going back to my place now, I guess I'll see you sometime soon?"

"Yes, of course. Maybe we could spar again sometime soon?" König asked, much to your surprise.

"Sure, I'd love to," you smiled to yourself a moment, debating your urges and ultimately deciding to shoot your shot because when else were you going to have the confidence to? Insecurity be damned, the post-victory adrenaline was getting to you. "Maybe we can even have some more... private matches?"

"Mhm, I wouldn't mind that. But I think we'd need someone to watch, no? Or unless you want to record and we can study it."

Not what you're implying, but his response definitely could be taken that way, causing your face to warm up again. Maybe if you pushed him in the right direction, he'd realize. "Er- I was kinda thinking we'd do it in my place, maybe? Unless you're more comfortable at yours."

All your attempts were going over his head as he grew more and more confused. "Sergeant, I don't believe the rooms are big enough for a fight-"

You burst out laughing, giggling to yourself at how ridiculous it all was, you dancing around your point and how it was leading him on a wild goose chase without even knowing it. Wiping a tear from your eye, you wheezed, "I- ohmygod- I'm so sorry- it's just, wow-"

You felt bad for laughing, but it was the only way you could make things less awkward for yourself and ease the tension. "I'm so sorry, König it's just- you're not really good at picking up hints, huh? But honestly, I should've been more straightforward with you, so,"

"What I'm trying to say is," Taking in a deep breath, you stood straight and looked him in the eye determinedly, "Would you like to hang out sometime? Just the two of us? Together?"

"König?"

Silence.

At that moment, König had put all the puzzle pieces together, or at least what little of them he had, and realized that you'd been (horribly) flirting with him the entire time. He also realized how hopelessly clueless he sounded. Like a computer needing to reboot, he began to overheat underneath his mask and sputtered, an incoherent jumble of words both German and English spilling from his lips. You giggled and pat him on the shoulder, "I take that as a yes, then?"

He let out a slew of words in German, catching himself immediately afterward, "Yes! I would love that- I mean, like that!"

"Really? Oh thank god, I've actually been meaning to ask that for a while now," you nervously chuckled, grabbing a pen and notepad from your bag and taking his hand in yours, putting a note in his palm, "Hope you don't mind if I just write something down... I think the weekend I'll be available so until then?"

"Mhm," He mumbled, trying not to fixate too much on how your hand was holding his as if you two weren't throwing hands earlier.

"Great! See you then!" You pressed a quick peck on his cheek and scurried away before he could react. You sneaky lil thing.

Stunned, König stood still for a solid minute until finally looking at his palm to see what you wrote.

"Here's my phone and room number! Next time we meet, be prepared because I can and will take you on! On a date, of course."

[rainylana]

Preachers daughter

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: eddie is becoming obsessed with “plain jane”.

warnings: based around the character/artist of ethel cain. language, reader is described as thin, brown hair/eyes and very plain and boring. eddie describes her as “ditzy” and “weird”. hints of physical abuse/bruising. talk of religion and christianity, church. reader is starved of attention. some angsty shadows around the edges, some fluff here and there. Slight smut, reader tries to give Eddie a blowjob, hints of sexual abuse.

a/n: my first fic in months!! leave me some love and let me know what you think!! also, if this gets enough love and positive feedback i might make another part!

You never spoke unless spoken to, had a plus marks in grades. You never smiled. You had few friends, a couple girls you sat with a lunch, but no one you hung out with outside of school. Eddie had started watching you when senior year came along. He didn’t know why. You hadn’t changed that much. You looked the same, acted the same. You were the same boring, plain Jane. That was what everyone called you. Plain Jane. You tried to not let it hurt your feelings.

Eddie hadn’t interacted with you much. Nodding a hi in class, waving at you on the bus once or twice. Offering an apology if he’d ran into you in the hall. But never really a conversation. He’d spoken a full sentence to you once in the nurses office. His nose had been bleeding from a punch, while you had been in there from a stomach ache. You both had sat in that little room with ice packs and a mint.

He was starting to become obsessed with you, the gang pestered him about it, laughing at him. He always talked about how mysterious you were, wondering why you never spoke. “It’s like she’s amish or something? Did she used to be amish?” He’d asked one day.

He wanted to know more about you, but how? He couldn’t exactly strike up a conversation with you. You barely reciprocated back the words. When the day came when you both finally had an actual interaction, it fueled the fire in his belly, his growing desire to get to know you, to understand why he liked you so much. Right now, he still didn’t know.

On the way back from Hellfire, it was starting to cloud up very darkly. A storm was brewing, and from the looks of it, a bad one. Eddie’s radio was cranked to the max, a new single out by a band he had yet to know the name. He wondered if other people would discover his songs like that one day, by a band they had no idea who’s name belonged to it.

That’s when he saw you, on the side of the road. He knew it was you from the long, brown dress that fell down to your calves, black flats and hair laid straight down your back. Plain Jane. “The hell?” He muttered under his breath, pulling up slowly and rolling down his window.

You stopped abruptly, startled by the oncoming vehicle, looking up to the window, the driver, with wild brown eyes.

“Need a ride, y/n?” His hand laid on the crank of the window. “Looks like we got a hell of a storm coming.”

You looked up to the sky, the wind blowing hair into your mouth. “I’m not supposed to ride with strangers.”

“We’re not strangers.” He chuckled. “You’ve known me since second grade.”

You gave him a look, a long one, holding your gold cross necklace before you eventually nodded, opening up his van door and climbing inside. He offered a hand to you, but you managed inside fine without it.

You lived about five miles north of his place on the outskirts of town, the baptist church, your fathers church, also being a mile from town. Your father was the only preacher in town to have children. The relationship with your parents was complicated. You idolized your mother, loved your father and brother. At the end of the day, that’s what was important and nothing else.

Three minutes into driving. Eddie couldn’t take the silence anymore. “So strangers, huh?” He forced a laugh to break the silence. “You consider me a stranger?”

You looked over at him, confused and in a daze. “No. But you don’t go to church.”

“So?”

“Daddy doesn’t want me to associate with people who don’t believe in God.”

“Who says I don’t believe in God?” He defended, hand on the wheel and other lighting a cigarette. “Just because I don’t go to church doesn’t mean I don’t believe in God, Y/n.”

“Do you?” You said curiously, eyes on the cigarette.

Eddie shrugged his shoulders, blowing smoke out the window. “I don’t not believe in God. I have bad luck as is. I don’t need God pissed at me for not believing in em’, ya know?”

His words didn’t make much sense to you, but regardless, you nodded and kept quiet. It wasn’t in your best interest to pry uncomfortable conversations. However, being the daughter of a preacher meant that students, your peers, liked to confess to you when they had problems. One day, Chrissy Cunningham had needed to get something off her chest, worried she was going to go to hell for smoking weed under the bleachers. You didn’t feel like Eddie needed this kind of treatment; counseling.

Eddie held out the cigarette for you to take, to which you politely accepted. It didn’t surprise him. He knew you smoked. He caught you one day underneath the large oak tree by lovers lake. He’d shocked him almost to his knees. He figured it was your only source of rebellion. He didn’t tease you for it.

You inhaled and exhaled, feeling ten times more relaxed as you breathed in the smoke. You handed it back to him. “Thank you.” You said softly. “It’s nice of you to take me home.”

He waved his hand nonchalantly. “I’m not gonna let the reverend’s daughter walk home in a storm. I probably wouldn’t get into heaven, would I?” He smirked over at you.

You couldn’t help but smile, tucking a hair behind your hair. The corner of his eye caught your hands, purple bruising around your knuckles. He stared at them for a moment, eyes bouncing between you, your hands and the road. They were angry and red, dark around the bone. It looked painful. He gave you one last look, a confused, strange one, before turning his eyes back to the road. How did you hurt your hands so badly? It looked like you’d been beating a punching bag all night long. He forced it out of his mind to stop thinking about it. It wasn’t his business.

“So,” Eddie cleared his throat. “You got big plans this weekend?”

“I’m going to read.” You answered plainly.

“Fun.”

He was kicking himself for being so awkward. He’d been thinking of you for months now, wanting to get you alone so he could understand why you had gotten under his skin. It’s not like you were drop dead gorgeous. You weren’t ugly by any means. You were pretty. But pretty like other girls he went to school with? It’s not like you shared similar interests. Hell, he wouldn’t know. You’d never share your interests with anyone anyways. Your hobbies consisted of reading the bible and sewing on the front porch.

Thunder began rolling in, rain hitting the window shield. Eddie turned on his wipers, quickly rolling up the drivers side window to avoid getting wet. You were looking out your window to the sky, bringing up a nail to bite.

“Scared of storms.” He noticed your habit of anxiety.

“No.” You shook your head. “I love them. I’m hoping for a tornado.”

He gave you a weird look, nodding. “Okay.”

You hoped the storm would destroy your home and everyone in it.

You swallowed back bile and pushed the sinful thoughts from your young mind, taking away your finger and down to your lap. Lightening struck.

“Shit.” Eddie cursed. “Maybe we should pull over. Shouldn’t drive in this.”

You stayed quiet, fingers mentally crossed the storm would worsen. You loved storms, the danger of it all. It could end your life and that excited you. It was up to mother nature whether you lived or died.

“There’s a boat dock with a shack up ahead. Reefer Rick’s place. He’s outta town.” Eddie spoke louder over the pelting rain, which was turning to hail. You both ran to the shack, your feet splashing in muddy puddles that dirtied up your pale legs.

You both panted when you got inside safely. You were cold, wrapping your arms around your freezing body. It was dark and musty, covered in cobwebs and mold, empty paint cans and boxes ruined from the leaky roof. You were warmer running out in the rain.

“Here.” Eddie held out his hellfire jacket to you.

You shook your head. “No, thank you.”

“You’re gonna get yourself a cold.” He kept his arm out stretched. “Come on, you’ve got less layers on than I do.”

“No, thank you.” You repeated. “I don’t like the…well, the logo of your club on the back.” Your cheeks blushed red in embarrassment, hoping not to hurt his feelings after saving you from the icy storm.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Suit yourself.”

Eddie fixed himself comfortably against the wall, huddled up in a little corner, breathing into his hands to warm himself up. You shivered in your spot, arms crossed and feet shuffling to stay warm yourself. “How long do you think the storm will last?”

“Thought you liked storms?” He didn’t look up at you, yet he still smirked slightly.

You swallowed and turned away to look around some more, hoping the movement would keep you from going into hypothermic shock.

An hour later and Eddie had managed to build a fire in a metal trash can that was cut in half. Rick had kept some wood and news papers in the closet, so Eddie used that until he had a descent fire roaring to give off satisfying warmth. The storm really wasn’t letting up. Eddie, was beginning to grow agitated. He’d been waiting months to spend time with you, understand you, and you would barely speak to him.

“How’d you do on the english test?”

It was hypocritical of him to talk about, or show interest in grades when he was riding the fine line of a D and F, but he was tired of the silence.

You sat a few feet away from him, curled up in yourself, his jacket thrown over your shoulders. He insisted you wear it when he heard your teeth start to chatter. Your dress was slightly damp, but growing more dry by the second, your hair ratted.

“I did okay.” You said meekly.

Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “You sure don’t say much, do you?”

You looked up to find him staring at you inquisitively. “I don’t have anything to say.”

“I think you have plenty to say, actually.” He corrected you, pointing a mud clad finger. “I think you’re just afraid of what people will think.”

“I know what people think of me.” You clasped your cross necklace. “They call me “plain Jane”.” I’m sure you’ve heard it before.”

He had in fact, yes. Even called you the term before, several times.

“It doesn’t matter to me, though.” You shook your head. “Only one person really judges us in the end.”

Eddie looked uneasy at the thought of being judged by…God. He looked you over, swallowing as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ hell.”

His language startled you. “What is it?”

He laughed, shaking a hand. “It’s just…I don’t know. I thought maybe it was fate that I got to pick you up today, so you know…we could get to know each other better.”

You gave him a strange look. “But you already know who I am.”

“I mean,” He stressed in annoyance. “I don’t know, take you out on a date or something? Damn.” He cursed, shaking his head like this was the absolute worst thing he’d ever done.

Your eyes widened and your lips parted. “Me?”

He nodded, leaning back and crossing his arms. He looked like he was a five year old pouting. “I get it if you’re not interested. Just tell me rather than sit there with your mouth hangin’ open.”

You closed it automatically, swallowing nervously. You were completely astonished. You never knew that Eddie had those kinds of feelings for you. Eddie was just…Eddie. He was always there causing mischief and trouble, picking fights here and there. But now that you sat and thought about it, there were many of times you recalled catching his eye in the hallway or the cafeteria. He was handsome. You liked his hair, though you knew your father wouldn’t approve of how long it was.

Your father wouldn’t like this, but he didn’t like you either. There wouldn’t be any chance of being able to go out with Eddie, not being able to risk him seeing the both of you together.

“Maybe,” You started, taking his jacket off your shoulders. “Maybe we could have our date here.”

“Here?” He craned a brow. “In this shack? Would be the cheapest date I’ve ever been on.” He chuckled, scratching above his eyebrow. “So you’re interested then? You’ll go out with me?”

Your smile turned into a frown, your guilt and fear sinking in. Eddie was a man, and just like any man, only wanted one thing. Surely a date was not a date. It was a date. You supposed you didn’t mind, after thinking about it for a moment. You didn’t mind the idea of sleeping with him. It excited you actually, but not anymore than the idea of being taken out, treated like a real lady.

“Alright.” You nodded.

He smiled, clapping his hands together. “Good.”

Five minutes past. No one had said anything. You assumed he wanted you to make the move. You startled him when you crawled over to him. “What are-” Was all he’d gotten out before you were climbing into his lap to roughly kiss him. It was all so sudden, and his body was having a hard time registering what happened. He couldn’t keep up with you.

When he did, he cupped the back of your head and slipped his tongue into your mouth, your own saliva dripping down his chin. Your hand slipped from his chest to his belt, but before you could undue it, Eddie’s eyes opened and narrowed. “Whoa, now,” He chuckled, pushing you back gently. “Slow down.”

“You don’t like it?” You looked hurt. “I thought-”

“Well, yeah,” He chuckled. “I liked what you were doing, but all in good time sweetheart.”

It was so fast and so sudden, everything that had happened. Your heart was still racing from making out, your body still wracking with building pleasure. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” He scooted up against the wall. “It’s okay. I just want to take you out on an actual date. I didn’t mean I just wanted to fuck you in this old shack.” He snorted, teeth shining in the dark. He looked so amused, so interested in you.

“O-oh.” You stammered. “I didn’t know.”

“Is that okay?” He asked you.

“Oh, yes, yes,” You rushed, glowing red. You didn’t know how dates worked. You didn’t go on them. You weren’t allowed to leave the house very much anyways. You weren’t sure what excuse you’d be able to come up with to get away, but surely you’d come up with something. You were sneaky, after all. Had to be.

Eddie could tell by your body language that you’d never been asked out before. As dirty as it was, that excited him. When the rain stopped, he helped you up, put out the fire and drove you him. He never stopped thinking about your hand on his chest, and neither did you.

[cerise-on-top]

Hi!!

I really love your works and writing on cod! I really enjoy reading it! ❤

Can I request Konig, Nikolai, Rudy and Alejandro reacting to reader speaking to their native tongue?

Take all the time you need! ❤🐱

Hello, I'm glad I can write something people can enjoy! And of course you can, even if I'm not sure I understood this ask perfectly! I wrote it as reader speaking the native language of the lads with them, so I hope that's okay! If you wanted reader simply speaking their own native language, please let me know! Thank you for the request, this one was very fun to write for!

Alejandro, Rodolfo, Nikolai and König with an S/O who Speaks Their Language with Them

Alejandro: He’d definitely be surprised if it comes out of nowhere, but he’s anything but mad. He can speak English fluently, has no problems whatsoever with it, but if he can speak Spanish then he definitely won’t mind either. If you’re a beginner and it’s evident by how you stutter in Spanish, then he’ll be patient with you. He’ll speak slowly and clearly so you can follow while also getting a good feel for the intonations the language has. However, when he just wants to tease you a bit then he’ll speak the way he’d usually speak while also not shutting up either. Alejandro can be eloquent in Spanish if he tries, but he barely ever does, only when he wants to confuse you with words you’d likely only hear from people who are 100 years old. The more you look like you’re in despair, the more it cracks him up. He will apologize afterwards, though, and give you a kiss on the cheek. If your Spanish is already pretty good, however, and you just wanted to surprise him, then congratulations, he’s likely going to speak a whole lot more Spanish with you than before. Just because it’s a popular language doesn’t mean everyone speaks it, so when he wants to tell you something for your ears only while there are people around, he’ll say it in Spanish. It’s comfortable for him, getting to speak his mother tongue with you. He thinks in Spanish, so it’s a whole lot easier for him as well. Tells a lot more jokes in Spanish too, even though they’re some of the worst ones the language has to offer. While they may not be Ghost-level lame, they’re something else still. Come up with your own and he’ll be so proud of you, rewarding you with more awful puns he came up with. He’s just happy he gets to share his language with you.

Rodolfo: As soon as you come up to him somewhat timidly and strike up a conversation in Spanish he’ll be a bit surprised, but absolutely smitten. Since it’s obvious you’re still learning he’ll try to use “nicer” Spanish on you, so more words that aren’t just exclusive to his dialect, or Las Almas in general. Very supportive, he would never judge you for making grammar mistakes while speaking, taking a while to remember a word or mispronouncing something, it’s part of learning a language, after all. Might nudge you in the right direction or correct you gently, but he’d never mean it in a bad way, he just wants to help you. He’ll speak clearly to you, slowly as well, so you can learn from him. It’s not often he gets carried away, but sometimes hearing you speak Spanish is just so cute that he might chuckle a bit or be a bit more excited than usual. A very patient teacher, who can appreciate you trying to learn something new. Now, if your Spanish is already pretty good then he does like holding a conversation with you in Spanish every once in a while. It’s just nice to turn your brain off without having to translate every other word into another language since he, too, thinks in his native tongue. Soft petnames from time to time, or maybe just mixing English and Spanish together when he can’t think of the word immediately as well. Somehow, as soon as he knows you speak Spanish, he’ll believe you’ve taken an interest in the corresponding culture, so he’ll teach you more about Mexico if he can. Teaches you how to cook the food, the customs, what the people are like in general. While he may not be as connected to his culture as Alejandro, he does like talking about it from time to time.

Nikolai: The second you greet him with a cheerful privet he knows you’re in for something. You should have expected such from him as well, though. It’s a gamble with him, he’ll either speak more quickly than he usually does just to mess with you or he’ll hold a prim and proper conversation with you and it all depends on how playful he’s feeling that day. Overall, he’s pretty chill about it, though. You wanna know how to pronounce something? You wanna know what gender a noun has? What his neighbor was yelling about again? He’s got your back. You can ask him the most embarrassing questions a million times, he won’t mind. Besides, if you want to then you can come to Russia and experience everything there first hand. Nikolai knows all the good places in Russia that are suitable for someone who’s not usually there, so you won’t have to worry about anything either. If you want to hold a whole conversation about how tortoises have survived for millions of years, then you can. Besides, hearing you botch the pronunciation from time to time is just the most precious thing there is. Will smile a bit when you pronounce something incorrectly, but won’t ever outright mock you for it. As mentioned before, he just thinks it’s cute. And when you know Russian very well, then he still won’t speak it too often. Nikolai knows eight languages, he doesn’t always think in Russian, usually in English since that’s what most of his closest friends speak with him. If you really insist on speaking Russian with him, he will, but won’t think too much of it. Many people know the language, Russia is a big country, after all. If you want to, then you can spend some holidays there and he’ll show you around since there likely isn’t a better guide in the whole country than him. But he will not make a big fuss out of it.

König: German isn’t a very popular language due to its grammar, so you can imagine his surprise when you walked up to him with the most adorable Grüß Gott he’s ever heard. He could just squish you then and there, but he refrains from doing so and instead focuses on trying to have a meaningful conversation with you. Doesn’t matter if it’s good, doesn’t matter if you’re just asking him how he’s doing, a conversation is a conversation and you’re learning. Besides, you learning German, especially if it’s just because of him, does move him just a bit. Might not always initiate a conversation in German with you because what if you’re not in the mood? But you can always just talk to him in German, he doesn’t mind it at all. Though, he might not be the best person to learn German from since he uses regional words that people his age use. While he does try to speak high German with you, he does not really care much for it, so his dialect slips in every once in a while. But hey, at the very least you get to learn his dialect. As soon as he hears you call someone Hawara he becomes oddly proud of himself, thinking he’s doing well as a teacher even if he barely does anything. He loves Austria, so if you really want to see it, he’s more than happy to take you home, show you Vienna, Styria and Lower Austria and make you try some good old Brettljause. If you already know German, then chances are you’ll only know high German, which is alright too, but please know that from time to time, König will speak his dialect with you, which you might not always understand. He barks quite a bit when he speaks too, making it a bit harder to understand him as well. However, he’s always more than happy to play translator for you and teach you words no one uses anymore, such as hal. Austrian words are a must know for you, therefore you’ll learn fairly early on what a Seidl or an Erdapfl is.

[save-a-forest-ride-a-bear]

Can I request general dating headcanons for Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with gender neutral s/o?

🗒꒰⸝⸝₊ General Dating Headcanons ❛ ✧

Featuring: Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan & Zevlor

# Notes: using they/them pronouns for haarlep bc we deserve a gnc icon

🌿┊HAARLEP

Surprisingly very romantic. Which romance language is their main one, you ask? The answer is all of the above. Physical touch? Please, they're an incubus, it goes without saying they'll have their hands all over you all the time. Words of affirmation? They know how to put together a compliment, your name sounds like a lyric on their tongue. Gift giving? They're very keen on jewellery, always surprising you with a golden necklace or bracelet. Acts of service? This motherfucker is a giver, ask and ye shall receive. Quality time? The day they're not at your heels is the day the nine hells freeze over.

Clingy and needy. Will pout and complain every second they're not receiving attention, not above throwing tantrums either. What could possibly be more important than lavishing them with affection? Nothing, that's what. So put that book down, they demand cuddles.

Was definitely not expecting to fall in love. Love is such a sweet and pure concept and they're... Well, them. It just didn't seem compatible with their nature. So when they realized they were beginning to like you more and more, they felt a bit frightened. It was such an unusual feeling, but they grew to welcome it with time.

Definitely gets a bit spoiled just being around you. Tenderness is hard to come by in the hells, so now that they've tasted it, they want more more more. Also talks back to Raphael a lot more now — they deserve the best treatment they can receive, the devil can shove it.

Service top in and out of bed. Again, they're a total giver, always tending to your needs. Had a hard day? They got your favourite food and ran you a bath, go ahead and enjoy it, they'll be there for cuddles once you're nice and dry.

🌿┊DAMMON

Has no control over his tail whatsoever, it will be wagging whenever you're near or wrapping around you to keep you from leaving. He always blushes and apologizes profusely — it has a mind of its own, he says.

He's a bit of a workaholic. Will spend way too long cooped away in his forge. However, he doesn't resist or complain if or when you try to drag him away from there. He knows he needs it, and to be honest he's kind of a simp, will do almost anything you ask of him.

Super attention starved. He won't outright ask for affection, but that look in his eyes isn't fooling nobody. He absolutely melts when you hold or kiss him, he's such a sweetie.

Even before you start dating, he's super affectionate. He just likes letting the people around him know he cares for them. it's almost difficult to tell if he has a crush on you or not because of this little habit, but again, the tail doesn't lie.

Giddy whenever you're around. He's already a somewhat upbeat guy, but having his beloved close to him brings out the best in him (if that's even possible).

🌿┊ROLAN

I love this stupid fucking wizard so much.

Does not know how to flirt. I'm a firm believer he never even kissed anyone before you. Not with his behaviour and obsession with his studies, at least. (And with Cal and Lia constantly at his heel).

Somewhat easily jealous. He has this mix of confidence and insecurity that's... odd, to say the least. He trusts you and thinks he's more than capable of pleasing you. On the other hand, he knows he's a pain in the ass most of the time, so if he sees you enjoying a conversation with someone a bit too much, it will gnaw at him.

As mentioned, not the most experienced. Your first kiss will probably be messy, especially if it's your first as well. Clanking teeth, a bit of drool, all that cute stuff. He's just a little too eager, okay?

Awkward and smooth as fuck at the same time. Really good at teasing you, but will sulk and blush if you do it back — especially if his siblings are around. He'll never hear the end of it.

He makes up for awkwardness with sheer eagerness, most of the time. He's just so happy to be able to call you his, to hold you, kiss you — he's over the moon. And you're not going anywhere anytime soon.

🌿┊ZEVLOR

This dumbass paladin is such a romantic. He's more old-fashioned, of course — almost refuses to kiss you on the first date. Maybe even the second. He just wants to treat you right the best way he knows how, even if it can be a little frustrating at times.

Gets flustered easily, but never backs down. Like, he will blush and maybe stutter a little if you catch him off guard with a kiss or compliment, but will 100% reciprocate, maybe even make you blush in return.

Has some problems with inferiority and may think he doesn't deserve you at times. He sees himself as a coward and since he believes you deserve the best knight in shining armour you can get, he becomes a little insecure at times. Nothing some kisses won't solve.

Expect lots of communication. This is a man, not a boy. If something's wrong or bothering him, he will let you know and expects you to do the same. How else is the relationship supposed to flourish?

Not big on PDA. Again, he's old-fashioned. He believes affection like that should be kept behind closed doors, something for the couple and the couple only. But he won't say no to some hand-holding if you ask nicely.

[renren-006]

Y'all did know? - Daryl x fem reader

Anon: i absolutely fucking love your fics, i read so many fanfics i don’t always remember authors but i for sure remember and recognize you and your work partially bc i reread it often❤️ after reading your last daryl fic at 4 am bc i couldn’t sleep i had an idea for a fic for him. what if it was slightly the opposite thing, like daryl and reader got together early on, maybe the knew each other before hand like reader was a bartender at merle’s favorite bar bc we all know daryl takes time to warm up to be ppl, and the cdc happens, while drinking they make their confession and get together officially, but readers like daryl with the fact they’re kinda shy and take a while to warm up to ppl so they don’t do pda and stuff publicly, not really intending to hide it but also not wanting the attention, and maybe they assume their ppl from their group know (this is where the set up for that last fic got me bc i can see this being a long timeline)......

original ask: Ask

a/n: hey anon!! i decided to copy some of what you wrote here but it was a massive request and I absolutely enjoyed reading it and writing it!!! thank you for the kind words!! you guys are why i love writing and helping make your stories become reality! hope you all enjoy reading it! word count: 3107

taglist: @rosecentury

Before World Ended:

You met the Dixon brothers a few years before the world ended. You were a bartender at a small driver's roadside bar off Atlanta I-85. You started working there after you graduated from college, hoping to make some money to put away to get out of Atlanta. 

Merle was always a loud drunk and a loud customer throughout the day. Daryl, however, was a kinder soul, apologizing for his brother before seating himself directly in the center of the bar area. The two of you chatted through your shift, mostly about who comes in, how his day was, and what the weather for the week would be like. It was small talk, but with the other rednecks checking you out, you felt comforted by him. Daryl never made any plans to put any moves on you in the three years he knew you, but when the world ended, and you almost got killed, he knew he had to.

"I like ya," he said aloud. You looked over at him. He was gazing up at the sky, a beer between his knees. You just sat there watching the man. 

“What the hell does that mean?” you asked, slightly annoyed. You not only had almost died by an undead customer, but also it was an undead customer. The idea that people could die and come back to life as something unlike themselves was utterly unbelievable. You watched blow you as that undead walked around without noticing you and Daryl on the bar's roof. Merle was blocking the rest of the bar to keep everyone out. All three of you knew you would have to leave soon, but it didn't matter; the summer breeze was still blowing, and the beer was still cold for now. 

“It means…ya almost died and the shit of the world, so… I like ya.”

“You are a master with your words,” you told him sarcastically. You've known Daryl for years now; the two of you spoke the same language with people. You were always shy, and Daryl just took a while to open up to people. You both were a lot alike, and that's what kept you together and attracted you to one another. “I like you too.”

GEORGIA:

The two of you never addressed your relationship with each other, not that anyone really needed to know. Nor did the two of you showcase it. Since both of you were shy and had a bit of a more rigid exterior about letting people in, you just figured when you were alone with each other was the time to be closer, but out in the world hand, holding, loving looks, and conversation were the way to go about it. 

Merle knew, of course; he figured it out quickly. He was the only one learning about the two of you and not caring. Daryl acted the same as he had, except he didn't dare flirt with you. Daryl had given him one look on the road when you walked ahead, and he was staring at your ass that he never tried again. Merle may be mean to Daryl, but he never would cross-touch what were his brothers. Everyone thought it was a word.

“He doesn't flirt with you, does he?” Andrea asked you a few months into living together. You shook her your head. “Weird, he never stopped with me.”

“Maybe you're just his type, Andrea.”

“And you're not? Anything with tits and an ass and Merles all over it,” she said to you, not noticing the slight touch of hands with Daryl as he walked by and the smile you gave. She kept running on about Merle's annoyance, not noticing anything else around her. 

FARM:

“You crazy bitch” you yelled towards Andrea. She had run over far behind your form and Ricks. The two of you dashed towards the fallen man without a second thought in your mind. You ran towards your man, who was lying in the grass, groaning in pain. Daryl was barely speaking in Rick's arms as they carried him off. 

“Don't worry, your man will be fine,” Shane said, keeping you from absolutely bashing Andreas' face in. She took one look at your anger and held her hands up, walking backward towards Dale. “Don't bite her head off for this.”

“Whatever,” you said, shoving him off and walking up towards the house, where Daryl was now being brought inside. You didn't even consider Shanes's words that day, “your man.” it never crossed your mind that he was teasing you. Shane was a dick; everyone knew it more recently. You could see Shane's vacant eyes glancing at everyone in a way that made your skin crawl. You thought the only reason he was acting like that towards you was this asshole was flirting. He knew you were taken, right? You were mistaken. 

ROAD AGAIN:

You handed over a can of soda to Daryl. You had only found two in the house you searched.  Surprisingly, the can was left in a cabinet, meaning you could drink it if you wanted to. Daryl and Rick approached you once they entered the house. They both came to help you in the bigger house. You placed the soda in Daryl's hand.

“It's not beer, but I know you'll enjoy it anyway,” you said to him before heading up the stairs. 

“She's sweet on you,” Rick said with a smile, teasing the man beside him about you as you skipped the last few steps. 

“I know,” Daryl said as he went to look for other things inside the house. Rick looked back and forth between the stars and where Daryl had gone off, too. He laughed slightly.

“Those idiots,” Rick said, thinking they both had no clue about the other's feelings when everyone else was oblivious to their known feelings. 

PRISON:

You stood on the watchtower, scouting the land ahead. Daryl and a few others had gone on another trip to look for supplies. You had your rifle on the railing as you watched, and then you set up their gear and trucks. Maggie slid in next to you. She watched you watch Daryl move around in the ground, setting up his motorcycle. He looked good down there; the way his body moved, his mussels, and even the way his hair was falling was driving you wild. Maggie caught a glimpse of you checking him out.

“You're so obvious,” she told you. You laughed slightly.

“Sorry,” you apologized; you knew you were obsessed with watching him, but how could you not? You’ve known Daryl for so many years now it was impossible not to watch or admire the man before you. You loved him, and he knew that. Daryl was also quite aware of your joys of watching him, sometimes he would put on more of a show of stretching or giving you those lustful eyes you knew would mean the two of you wouldn't get any sleep that night. It was his favorite thing to do to get you worked up throughout the day. 

PRISON:

Daryl knew he was forgetting something before he even shut the truck's door. He heard her voice before she even reached the hill in the Prison. 

“Wait.” Daryl glanced out the window of the truck, putting his arm out and waving. He knew she was smiling from that before her face popped up in his vision. “You forgot your water bottle!” Smiling up at him was you, his girl—Rick snickers from the seat beside Daryl. 

“Thanks,” He said, grabbing the water bottle from your hand, “saving my ass.”

“Always am,” you responded, giving him a wink. Have a safe trip out.” As you said it, you turned with a wave and walked back up the hill. Swaying our hips bit as you did, you gave Daryl a show that you knew would make him come back to you tonight with a mission. 

Daryl and Rick headed off on their scout to a new town they had spotted on the map, a few miles away from the other town they had picked clean. As the two looked around the houses, Daryl went through many jewelry cases for anything that might seem like something you would wear. Rick came in on him, picking through when he had found the perfect thing.

“She would love this,” Daryl said. Rick came up next to him, observing the (silver/gold) necklace with a bird on the end of the chain swinging in the air. 

“Do you think about anything but her?” Rick asked, laughing as he exited the room to look in the one next to it. Daryl chuckled and shook his head. No, you were always on his mind. 

Little did he know, Rick assumed Daryl had a massive crush on you, not that he had any suspicions you two were already together.

When they returned and Daryl was back sitting next to you on that mattress on the floor, he pulled out the necklace. 

“I found it,” he told you, handing it over to you so you could see it. “I know how much ya miss these types of things.”

“Haha, did you know I missed jewelry?” You asked him, shocked he somehow knew how much you missed having something to wear around your neck. He nodded his head.

“I knew, ya mentioned it a while ago. Been looking for something for ya”

“Daryl,” you said with admiration. He put it around your neck; the man who you had met in a bar all those years ago was now putting a necklace on your neck in a run-down prison at the end of the world. 

AFTER PRISON FALL:

“Daryl?” You said, besides Carol, who had just completed her job of destroying a massive facility of cannibal people. You had been with her, the girls, and Tyreese since the fall and had been so scared that Daryl didn't make it out of the prison. You had run out of the hut and left Tyrese once you heard the explosion. You had found Carol and walked over to the others and saw him. 

Daryl didn't hesitate to run straight for you. You hugged me so tight you felt the air in your lungs stop for a moment, but you didn't care.

“I miss ta. I thought ya died,” Daryl said as he clung to your body. He had gone through hell to fight and find you, and here you were, not a scratch on you and in his arms again. That necklace still hung around your neck, a form of commitment to the both of you about who you were with.

“I'm alive. I'm alive,” you said as you held the man in your arms. The others stood and watched your reunion, no one thinking anything- “Wow, they must care for each other a lot.”

Once he broke off the hug, it was like looking into the eyes of the world again. You could see color, purpose, and meaning. He was everything to you.

 

AFTER TERMINUS:

After the terminus, Daryl stuck to your side. The two of you walked together, ate together, slept near each other, and went on runs together. When Carol and Daryl went to Atlanta, so did you. 

“How long have you two been together?” she asked as you walked through another building in Atlanta. Daryl casually answered as he passed an office door with a walker trying to get out.

“Since Atlanta fell,” he answered. Carol stopped, turning back to the two of you.

“You've been together for more than three years?” She asked the two of you. “How did no one pick up on it?”

“Wait, what?” you asked, shocked, “How does no one know Daryl and me are together?”

“You two have never been very…affectionate,” she told the two of you. Darly glanced your way. The two of you laughed a little at that.

“Yea, that makes sense,” Daryl said. This was the moment the two of you started looking towards the others for any answers if they knew you were together. For the last few months on the road, getting to Alexandria yielded you the response that no one knew a thing. It caused a bit of agitation for the two of you about how maybe your attitudes about being affectionate were causing more harm than good. 

ALEXANDRIA:

Once you all had gotten settled in and jobs were assigned, you all started to try and live a normal life again.Since moving into the two houses, you shared a space with Miccone, Rick, Carol, Daryl, and the kids. You and Darly took a room downstairs along with Carol down the hall, and the rest were split in the rooms upstairs. No one questioned you staying with Daryl or even looked at the fact that there was only one king bed in that room with the two of you. 

While Darly was assigned to go on runs to look for people, you were assigned daycare and teacher duty at the house designated for the school. It kept you busy while Darly was away, and on the days you had off or no one showed, you hung around with Crol or took watch. Many days, you walked around the complex, taking in the signs and the ability to walk in peace. That was until one day.

“Hey, you're one of the women from the new group, right?” a man asked as you walked back to your shared house. You could see Daryl on the porch talking with Carol, but he had not seen you yet. 

“Uh yeah,” you said, continuing to walk back; the man pulled your arm to face him.

“You know it's rude to keep walking when someone is talking to you. Or did you forget that after living in the wild for so long?”

“I didn't forget anything; I just don't want to talk to you,” you told the man, shaking your arm out of his grasp and walking faster towards the house. Finally, you made eye contact with Daryl. The way his face looked, you knew it was because he had heard. The man didn't stop trying. 

“Hey, don't walk away from me,” he said, running back up to you, grabbing your arm so hard and pulling and making you stumble back. “What if I'm not good enough for you? Can’t a man ask a girl for some action or what?” he said, pulling you closer to him. 

“Stop it,” you yelled back, but you didn't have to fight hard. Daryl was a flash before being by your side, and the man's face was flush against his fist.

“Touch me woman again, and that's the least I'll do to ya,” he said. The man froze as he looked up at you from the ground. That was the day you realized the longer people didn't know either of you was together, the more people would try and come up to you, assuming you were not. 

Daryl went to bed that night, angry. You knew it wasn't towards you, but the coldness in the room made you feel like the world was ending if you and him couldn't be more open. 

ALEXANDRIA:

‘What if you two just got married?” Carol asked as she was cooking in the kitchen. You paused your reading from the chair in the living room to look into the kitchen at Carol. 

“What?’ You asked, shocked by her expression. She turned away from what she was cooking on the stove to talk to you. 

“Well, since the people in Alexandria won't take the hint you've taken, and Daryl's upset, and also the issue of our own family not knowing…maybe you should just go out, find some rings, and get married.”

“I…hadn't thought of that,” you told her. “You think Daryl would be okay with that?”

“I think Daryl is more on board with that idea than you think, y/n,” Carol told you. She knew about the distance that had been caused by the repetitive men hitting on you. The guy whose nose was broken never once tried to come up to you and denied anything happening with you when others asked. No one knew what Darly had said that day apart from those there. The decision was made, at least on your part. You stomped your way over to Aaron's house. When he answered the door, you stomped in. 

“Need Daryl,” was all you said before heading to the back of his house to the garage. There, Daryl's bike sat as he tinkered with it. You slammed the door open, causing Daryl's head to look towards the door. A shutter went through the house.

“The hell, woman..” Darly almost got out. 

“Marry me,” you said when he was almost done speaking. Daryl's mouth closed, looking at you. “Do you need me to repeat myself? Daryl Dixion, marry me.”

“Ya no, I heard ya y/n,” he said, standing up, “why?’

“Why? Because I love you, and no one can even tell I do or that we have been together for more than four years,” you told him, frustrated by the string of events of the past year. 

“You want to marry me?” Daryl asked, taking your face in his grease-covered hands.

“Yes,” you told him, smiling.

EVERYONE'S REACTIONS:

Rick was holding a dinner for the family that night. Carol completed a large spread, and everyone showed up. You and Daryl were late. When you showed up, the two of you were holding hands. Michone was the first to welcome the new development.

“You guys waited long enough,” she joked, causing other heads to turn. Daryl looked down at his feet, and you just let out a sigh.

“We didn't, though,” you told them. Everyone looked twords you two in confusion. 

“Didn't what?” Michone asked, clearly confused by what was happening. 

“We've been together for four years,” Darly said, “And we just got married to prove it.” He lifted his hand to show the gold band on his finger, and yours lifted as well, showing the (silver/gold) band with a few small diamonds on it. The two of you had found a jewelry store and had fun picking out your ring, while Darly wanted something simple. 

“Holy shit,” Abraham said. 

“Wait, what? '' Carl shouted, clearly confused about how his uncle had been together with you for so long, and he didn't know.

“Congratulations,” Carol answered. Everyone else was shocked. “Oh, I've known about them for a while.”

“Tonight's dinner story is how the two of you got together,” Rick said as he motioned for the others to sit, “And no one is leaving out any details.”