#how they're yearning to be closer to each other

[gingernut1314]

Don't Jinx It ch. 5

Summary: Silco comes to visit you at work to let you know he has a surprise to show you.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, Nadia is Viktor's mom, young Silco, young Sevika, young reader, pre-Sheriff Grayson, reader using water manipulation, unrequited love, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, The Gray)

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: so I'm still SCREAMING over those Vander flashbacks and Silco--SILCO my loveeee. So we're giving Silco long hair as per canon eheheeheh its perfect. Also we're aged up a bit now so lots of fun! I hope you all enjoy!

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Act 2: 

Four Years Later

For the past year or so the same small batch of enforcers visited at your Boss’ diner-shop. A batch of enforcers you were convinced your boss only let in cause she had made friends with their Sergent. A one Ms. Sergeant Grayson. 

You, Nadia, and Sevika watched Grayson and Boss laugh together in the booth they occupied, chatting with each other like they’d known each other their whole lives. 

“I still don’t get it.” Sevika gruffed, slicing into a gray-scaled fish you two had helped catch that morning. “Boss hates enforcers. Spits on their shiny gold badges any time she spots one, but she’s all but eating out of the palm of that one's hand.” 

“They’re fucking.” You chimed in from where you leaned against the counter watching the spectacle unfold before you. “They have to be fucking. That’s the reason.” 

“So vulgar.” Nadia shook her head at you two, nose wrinkled at your words. “Maybe Boss has just made a friend in her. Is that so hard to believe?” 

“No, no. You’re right.” Sevika started, beginning to slice the pink flesh of the fish into tiny strips. “Boss definitely’s been in her. That’s for sure.” You laughed while Nadia huffed. 

“You two are barbarians.” You flipped around, snatching a bit of sliced fish Sevika had just cut. You grabbed for a second slice before you had even shoved the first into your mouth, the woman chopping her knife all too close to your fingers in her way of telling you to knock it off. 

“You know we can’t help it, Nadia.” You mumbled around chews, the fish nearly melting on your tongue. You offered the second slice to Nadia who took it gently. 

“Unfortunately, I do know.” She huffed, taking a small bite from the bit of fish. 

“You coming to hang out with us tonight?” You asked Nadia hopefully. 

“Forgive me.” You gave a dramatic groan Sevika mimicked. “Nikolai and I are taking Viktor to spy on the newest…eh…flying…ship?” You quirked a brow at her as she bit another near-mouse-sized bite from her slice of fish. 

“Airship?” 

“Yes!” She beamed at you, “I prefer to keep my eyes on the earth and my paints but you know how my boy is.” You nodded, peaking a glance at the fish Sevika was still cutting up. 

“He still gonna build me that mini-fridge?” You joked, slyly inching your fingers closer and closer to the bits of fish. Nadia chuckled at your words. 

“I think in the near future, yes. He’s slowly beginning to toy with bigg--” You yelped when Sevika snatched hold of your wrist and yanked you closer. 

“You keep being a little seagull and Boss’ girlfriend is gonna have none.” You smirked up at her. 

“You think that’s it? They're together together?” Sevika gave you a long roll of her eyes, releasing your wrist. “It’s a perfectly tragic story. Two enemies turned lovers yearning for each other despite everything.” You gave a playful gasp. “They’re forbidden lovers.” 

“You two need to stop meddling in their business. They just seem to be friends.” Nadia chimed in. 

“You’re right, Dee. Enemies to friends to lovers.” Sevika joined in once more, taking a slice of fish and tossing it your way. You caught it just as Nadia sighed deeply. “Makes it even more tragic.” You gave a mockingly mournful nod. 

“You two are insufferable.” She popped the last of her fish into her mouth before she went back to her tables. Tables you and Sevika had purposely made sure were other like Undercitians, not wishing Nadia to be near the true barbarians of the night. 

Nadia was kind. Too trusting of others and both of you feared it would only lead to an enforcer getting the wrong idea.

You and Sevika, on the other hand, had no problem letting those bucket heads know just where they could shove it. And if they needed a bit of help neither of you had any problems doing it for them.

You had just shoved your newest piece of fish into your mouth when the bell hanging above the door gave a ring. 

“Better tell him it’s not a good time before Boss kills him,” Sevika spoke, gray eyes looking to who had just walked in. Excitement shot through your chest fast at her words, knowing exactly who she had spoken them about in moments. 

You tried your best to not whip around in your search for him. You didn’t want him to actually think you were excited to see him. No…nope. Not at all.

Silco’s seafoam gaze found you instantly, a small smile tugging to his lips as he walked over. 

“You have two minutes Silco,” Boss called from her booth, her eyes not lifting once from her glass of wine, which she gave a small swirl. “Before I let this one take you back with her to Piltover.” 

“Be gone in one,” Silco responded, Boss giving a heavy sigh.

Grayson, despite her being a horrid badge-wearing oppressor, was fair. She was one of the very few enforcers, maybe even the only enforcer, who didn’t have a stick shove so far up their ass it stuck out of their mouth. 

And she chuckled at Boss, saying something only she could hear. 

“Gods--I mean their practically fucking right in front of us,” Sevika muttered so only you and the quickly approaching Silco could hear.

“What do you think?” You asked in way of greeting Silco, who pulled so close you could smell the fresh shower he had just taken. It was a smell you thoroughly enjoyed, one you wanted to grab and rub your face all over, but one you knew had a bitter backing. 

The same year you had met Silco, Piltover had reopened the mines they had promised would stay closed forever. Opened them in the promise of progress and ample jobs for all. In helping ease the “struggle of the good people” down here.

You wanted to say it was fine at first. That it gave jobs to those who might not have had one otherwise. That Piltover might be right for once, but you would only be fooling yourself. 

Working in those mines was like dancing with death herself and Piltover knew it just as well as everyone else.

You had the usual risks, cave mouths collapsing and people getting lost within the labyrinth that the mines made up, but then there was the Gray. Smoke that still leaked its way out into The Lanes from past generations, more so now thanks to the mines having reopened as such. 

And the Gray--well, the Gray was death’s lover. 

Smoke so thick you couldn’t see through it. A smog that clogged your throat and made it feel like every breath you took filled your lungs with a thousand tiny needles.

Janna, the very Winds of the Undercity, had been trying ever since its birth to rid its poisonous wrath from us. She told you the story of her first coming to the Undercity a few times over the years. She had been called here on the prayers of the people who were suffering from its oppressive choking hold. She had managed to keep it at bay. To give the people a moment's relief to breathe freely.

But ever since then, she has been struggling to try and purify the smog. 

It was a story she typically told you when she had you practice trying to purify the waters lapping at The Lanes’ jagged edges. 

And every time she had you practice, every time she told you her tale, you asked how you were supposed to do the same if she, who was a goddess, couldn’t even do it herself?

She would settle you with her glowing, unblinking gaze before instructing you to try again. 

All play no work that one…if only. 

You hated that Silco and Vander went down there, especially since there was nothing to be done for the Gray. It was something you told him many times that same year he had started work. So many times he had snapped at you to stop because it wouldn’t change a thing. 

What very little money the boys earned went right into The Last Drop to keep it standing as Piltover rose taxes and Vander’s father passed, leaving every leak and creaky floorboard to him.

So you agreed to stop bothering him with your worries…though it did nothing to keep you from doing so voicelessly. 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Silco glanced their way, the two seeming to have grown even closer in the two seconds you had taken your eyes off them. “Seems a perfectly typical interaction between officer and civilian.” His eyes found yours own more, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

You couldn’t help but look over every feature you could get away with looking at. Took in his nicely sharp features, his thinly soft-looking lips, and the shaggy hair he was allowed to grow out. Hair he planned on growing out so long he could braid it and gods did you agree. 

No longer was he the scraggly and bony teen you had first met. No, he had grown rather handsome. 

Painfully so. 

A beauty you struggled to think past most days.

And just as you knew how handsome he had grown, so had the rest of the Undercity. Women and men alike were drawn in by his looks and his smooth talk. 

His all-seeing and ever-calculating eyes only grew sharper. Eyes he used to see just how to make a girl grow ever the more flustered and fidgety under it. Eyes he used to track and log just what they liked to hear from him. 

He had become quite the playboy, capturing the hearts of many but never holding onto them for long. 

You think it has grown into a game to him. A game to see how many he can draw in and claim. See how many he can break in the same breath. 

You think sometimes he tries to play the game with you…and oh do you wish to play, but you knew he never truly meant the looks and the playful words he sent your way. 

You two were…friends. 

Strictly. 

Even when it disappointed you greatly. 

“Nah, they’re screwing.” Sevika huffed, reeling you back in from Silco’s charming looks. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked him, backing slightly away only for your hips to hit the counter. His eyes quickly tracked your movements. Movements he did the opposite of and stepped closer one more. 

“You get off work at seven.” He matter of factly told you. 

“What? Do you keep my schedule pinned to your wall or something?” Silco all but rolled his eyes at you. 

“I have something to show you.” Curiosity sparked at your heart and you instantly leaned closer despite knowing you should keep far away for your own heart's sake. 

“Ooo…what is it?” 

“And ruin the surprise?” You nodded quickly. Surprises were great but you found yourself impatience. Silco teasingly smirked your way. “Never.” And just like that he pulled away, leaving you feeling as if you had been tossed around by a riptide. “I’ll be back at seven.” He called to you as he headed back for the door. 

You swallowed sharply.

“Yeah. Okay.” You called back. 

You watched him give Nadia a small wave goodbye, the woman more than edger to do the same, before he was back out the door like he never was there in the first place. 

Sevika huffed at you, gaining your attention once more. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’.” You watched her sharply as she plated the beautifully cut fish on an equally as beautiful plate. She fixed you with an all-too-teasing gaze. “You two are just as bad. No…no. Worse. You’re worse.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as she passed you the plate to take over to the Boss and Sergent Grayson. 

“What do you mean?” Sevika all but ignored you, looking back over the diner.

“Dee, it’s worse right?” Sevika called to Nadia who was carrying a stack of dirty plates back to the kitchen. 

“Much worse.” She agreed as she passed. Before you could snap at the two for an answer, Boss called your name sounding not pleased. 

“This is not over.” You huffed Sevika’s way who only smirked back at you. 

“Sure, guppy. Sure.” 

You spent the rest of your shift cursing yourself for not having packed a better change of clothes. You had planned on being able to head home to change into something a little more nice before you went to The Last Drop, but Silco’s surprise threw a big wrench in your plans.

Not that you were complaining. Not truly.

You would pick hanging out with Silco over a nicer pair of clothes any day.

You found Silco waiting outside for you just as he had said, messing around with one of his daggers. He perked up instantly when you emerged, dagger put away as you came to his side.

“So…you want to tell me now?” You asked, only for Silco to lean downward so that he was looking directly into your eyes. You felt your heart give another damning flutter in your chest. 

“Tsk, tsk.” He smirked, “Impatient thing aren’t we?”

“This just something you're figuring out?” Silco gave a small, amused huff of air from his nose. Those seafoam eyes danced over your face, not helping the restless movement in your chest.

“Come,” He gestured with his head for you to follow. “It’s not too far away.”

“As soon as I drop Nadia off I’m getting drunk, ya hear you two!” Sevika called as you began following after Silco. 

“Won’t take long,” Silco called back to her. 

“Better not.” She shouted, “I’m itching to beat you at cribbage tonight.” 

“Want to bet on that outcome?” Silco glanced back to the woman, eyes bright in the promise of competition. 

Your two friends were unchallengeable at any card game they played. Their smarts and trickery were not something to go up against lighty.

When the two played against each other, the game always was a close one. One point could determine the winner.

And between the two…you would bet on Silco to win. He was the only person in all of the Undercity you had known to ever beat Sevika and beat her he did every time. 

Sevika, of course, never admitted it.

“Nah, 'cause I know I’m winning. No need to jinx it all to hell on a damn bet.” She called back as she started off with Nadia. 

“If she wishes to win that bad all she needs to do is play against you.” You sharply shoved Silco away who only gave a chuckle. 

“You’re an asshole.” You huffed, pulling the strap of your patched-up bag further up your shoulder. “I can play cards.” 

“You can play Go Fish.” 

“Hell yeah I can play Go Fish! I’m the best damn Go Fish player in all of The Undercity. No--The Undercity and Piltover.” You threw your arms out dramatically as you turned on your heel to face Silco as you walked backward. “In the entirety of Runterra.” Silco quirked an amused brow at you.

“Oh really? The whole world?” You gave a humming nod. “Well then, Go Fish World Champion, we’ll play tonight.” 

“And I’ll beat you.” You knew you wouldn’t. Even in the only card game you had mastered, Silco was still the best at it. 

“Want to bet on it?” You turned on your heel once more to face away from him. 

“Nope. Sevkia’s right. Betting beforehand is only going to jinx it.” You once more adjusted the strap of your bag.

“Jinxes are just a fiction.” You shrugged. 

“Maybe…but what if they're not? Huh? What are you gonna do then?” You asked, craning your head to look back at Silco who was watching you closely, an easy smile on his thin lips that you couldn’t help but mimic. 

“Then I guess I’ll face it head-on.” He quickened his pace a bit to come back to your side. “Let me carry your bag for you.” He offered his hand out for the item. 

“You trying to steal from me?” You asked in mock concern. 

“Oh yes. I want your dirty work clothes and sea shells.” You shrugged. 

“You're right. The sea shells would be worth stealing.” You pulled the tote from your shoulder and handed it to Silco, who slung it over his. “Got a pocket watch in there too.” 

“Oh? And where did that come from?” He asked, pulling at the edge of the bag to look for said watch.

“Those enforcers were so generous. Just gave it to me out of the goodness of their heart.” Silco let the bag fall back against his side. 

“How kind of them.” He huffed. “Why your boss feeds them is beyond me.” You gave a sharp nod. 

“Agreed. That’s why we think there is something else going on. Boss kills enforcers on the spot typically.” Silco shook his head, eyes turning away from you as a deep anger filled them. 

“Shiny things are nice,” Silco started, seemingly changing the topic.

“Very nice.” You agreed once more. 

“But it’s not worth putting you at risk.” Concern. He was concerned for you and was telling you that. 

You couldn’t help that damn fluttering again.

“I thought we agreed a long time ago not to do this.” Silco’s hardened eyes glanced back down at you, seafoam softening at their edge the longer he watched you. 

“Do what?” 

“Oh please be careful. Oh, I’m so scared for you. Oh, those big bad enforcers are going to catch you. Oh please be safe.” Silco gave you a dramatic eye roll at your mockery.

“Please. I’m hardly saying any of that.” You gave him just as dramatic an eye roll back. 

“Really? Then what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying--” Silco’s gaze flickered quickly over your face before looking away once more. “That if you steal from them enough your boss will find out.” 

“Still kinda feel like you're worried about me.” You felt Silco’s hand on your arm only for it to shove you away. A wicked cackle pulled from your throat. 

“Look whose being the asshole now.” Silco gruffed. 

Silco led you down another street, through an alleyway, climbed down a steep stairway that seemed to go on forever, and right back down another street before coming to a small, hardly used bridge. 

You knew you were right on the border of the Promenade Level, where your boss’ diner-shop was located, and the Enthresol Level which was where The Last Drop beat at the heart of the city. 

You had taken this route a few times in the past. Only ever with Silco, so you were familiar with it, but why you two were taking this roundabout way to the bar was what nagged at your curiosity when you could have just walked back with Sevkia. 

“What are you--” Silco pressed a thin finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet before heading for the metal ladder built into the side of the bridge. 

You followed close behind, the bite of cold metal digging into your palms. Silco hopped onto the grated platform, rusted bits of metal having created holes here and there within its flooring, before turning to offer you his hand. 

You took it, even though you knew you didn’t need his help, but you knew you needed to be able to feel his skin against yours. Chill skin that was covered in tiny scars and callouses that always made you feel like it was just the two of you in that moment.

He didn’t let go of your hand as he led you over the platform and you couldn’t help the growing warmth that his hand was creating in you. A warmth that rushed up your arm and all over your body. Warmth that made that damning flutter grow near pounding. 

You made it all the way to the other side of the platform and that's when you heard it.

It was soft at first. A sound you almost didn’t believe you were truly hearing until you were standing before the source, staring at the bundle of twigs, string, fur, and hair nestled between a rounded design in the arch of the bridge. 

“Oh…Silco…” You breathed, watching the small, featherless baby birds chirping and chirping for their mother, little bulging bellies no doubt starving. 

“Fantastic aren’t they?” You nodded, holding his hand a little tighter. 

“How--they shouldn’t be able to live down here.” Your voice was quiet to keep from startling the babies, but also in disbelief. 

Quiet in a growing dread that they probably wouldn’t make it for very long. 

“Yes…yes, it’s quite strange.” Silco spoke just as softly as you. “I saw their mother and followed her down here. Found these sweet ones.” You felt his hand hold yours just as tightly back. “But this means it can really happen.” You turned away from the miracle before you to look up at him. 

Silco’s seafoam eyes were already watching you.

And you knew that look in his eyes. A look he only got when talking about one thing. 

“Zaun.” He nodded, that hopeful gleam in his eyes burning with passion. It was a dream you all let burn deep within your bellies. A dream you all spoke of often. Spoke of enough you all had given such an outlandish wish a name. 

You turned to look back at the babies, who still had yet to stop begging for food. 

“But what if…those plants don’t even live near the bridge.” You thought of the rooftop you two had first encountered each other on. A roof where someone had been trying to grow tomatoes, though those tomatoes had withered and died before they could even yield a ripe crop.

“We’ll come visit them. Maybe we can help keep them going.” You nodded, even though your negative side nagged at you that it wouldn’t matter. That these sweet babies would wither and die before they had even sported their first feathers. 

As if reading your mind, Silco grabbed your other hand, turning you to face him. To bare his determination for Zuan down onto you. 

“It will happen.” He spoke like he was trying to convince himself it would. You nodded again.

“I believe it. We’ll make it happen.” But that look didn’t fade from his eyes. A look that mixed with something else that told you something was upsetting him. Something outside of the typical truths of your lives you lived down here in the filth. “What--did something happen?” You asked hesitantly. 

“I--” He hesitated himself. It had taken Silco a long time to fully be able to open up to you. Friends you may be, he kept his true feelings, deep dark ones, hidden behind a high wall. And though he more freely spoke with you on such topics now, you knew it was still a struggle. That, even though the wall had created a door for you to peek inside, the door wasn’t always unlocked.

“A mine shaft caved in this morning.” It was all he had to say for you to understand what had happened. For you to know why he had followed the bird down here. Why he had come to visit you at work. Why he had voiced his worry for you. 

Because he’d seen death today. 

More death that only Piltover could be blamed for and Zaun was Silco’s--no, everyone’s last bit of hope for things to get better.

You silently pulled him closer. Silently pulled your hands from his only so you could wrap them around his waist and hold him tight. And Silco silently let you hug him, when typically such affection was slapped away. 

Silco snaked his hands around your own waist, pulling you flush against his thin, yet strong body. You felt his breath against your neck as he buried his face there, warming your skin nicely.

You two stood like that for a long moment. Long enough that the babies stopped chirping, thinking you two had turned statue. 

“I have an idea.” You murmured, giving him one last, tight squeeze before pulling away. Typically you would curse yourself for ending such a moment. A moment you so rarely got but you wanted to try and lift his spirits, if just for a moment. 

Silco watched you carefully as you reached into your bag, which you didn’t bother pulling from his shoulder. You rummaged around for a little bit, making all the random trinkets you carried in it clink together until you pulled out one of the larger shells and your canteen, which you had learned to always carry with you for easy access to water. 

“What are you doing?” He asked to which you tossed him a playful smirk.

“And ruin the surprise? Never.” He huffed in amusement at your repeat of his words from earlier that night. 

He watched you carefully as you found a level spot on the bridge to place the shell, before unscrewing the canteen. With little effort, you reached for the water with your magic, pulling a fist-sized droplet of water out. 

Silco eyes shimmered in fascination, pulling so close his shoulder was pressed against yours. You once more savored the touch, turning yourself so you could peek unstrained glances up at his seafoam eyes here and there as you worked. 

“For their mama. And for these three when they grow up.” You said. Silco glanced down at you as you let the droplet of water fill the shell. “And because it’s magic water.” You gave your fingers a little wiggle at the word magic that further tugged a smile to Silco’s lips. “It’ll never run dry… hopefully.”

“You’ve been practicing,” Silco observed.

“Yep. I’ll be able to create tsunamis next, just you watch.” Silco’s easy smile came back in full then. A smile that brightened his eyes and stirred those damned flutters right back up in your chest. 

“I will.” Silence fell between the two of you, now filled with the returned chirping of the babies. A silence that thickened and made your eyes flicker downward to his lips, which you wanted to feel so so badly against your own. “Thank you…for all that.” You swallowed the growing dryness in your mouth down sharply. 

“Yep--” You gave your throat a little clearing as you turned away from Silco, knowing the longer you looked at his handsome features the more you were going to be drawn in. “Yep. No problem.” You recapped the canteen and all but shoved it into Silco’s arms. 

“Alright, I need a drink.” You announced, making your way towards the ladder and begging your heart to stop beating so loudly. “I’m kinda feelin’ like I might want to bet you about that win now.” Silco laughed, his footsteps sounding as he followed after you.

“I thought you said betting beforehand would only jinx it.” You shrugged, throwing him a mischievous little look. 

“I think I’ll just face it head-on, like you said. I’m feeling lucky.”

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[herbarimoon]

And all I ever do is soak through you

(Alex G - Soaker)

[urfriendlywriter]

How to write smut ?

(@urfriendlywriter | req by @rbsstuff @yourlocalmerchgirl anyone under the appropriate age, please proceed with caution :') hope this helps guys! )

writing smut depends on each person's writing style but i think there's something so gut-wrenchingly beautiful about smut when it's not very graphic and vivid. like., would this turn on a reader more?

"he kissed her, pulling her body closer to him."

or this?

"His lips felt so familiar it hurt her heart. His breathing had become more strained; his muscles tensed. She let herself sink into his embrace as his hands flattened against her spine. He drew her closer."

(Before proceeding further, these are all "in my opinion" what I think would make it better. Apply parts of the advice you like and neglect the aspects you do not agree with it. Once again I'm not saying you have to follow a certain type of style to write smut! Creative freedom exists for a reason!)

One may like either the top or the bottom one better, but it totally depends on your writing to make it work. Neither is bad, but the second example is more flattering, talking literally. (Here is me an year after writing this post, i think, either is amazing, depending on the context. the type of book you're writing, your writing style and preferences!)

express one's sensory feelings, and the readers will automatically know what's happening.

writing, "her walls clenched against him, her breath hitching with his every thrust" is better than writing, "she was about to cum".

(edit: once again, hi, it's me. Either is amazing depending on ur writing style. Everything at the end is about taste.)

here are some vocabulary you can introduce in your writing:

whimpered, whispered, breathed lightly, stuttered, groaned, grunted, yearned, whined, ached, clenched, coaxed, cried out, heaved, hissed

shivering, shuddering, curling up against one's body, squirming, squirting, touching, teasing, taunting, guiding, kneeling, begging, pining, pinching, grinding,

swallowing, panting, sucking in a sharp breath, thrusting, moving gently, gripped, biting, quivering,

nibbling, tugging, pressing, licking, flicking, sucking, panting, gritting, exhaling in short breaths,

wet kisses, brushing soft kisses across their body (yk where), licking, sucking, teasing, tracing, tickling, bucking hips, forcing one on their knees

holding hips, guiding the one on top, moving aimlessly, mindlessly, sounds they make turn insanely beautiful, sinful to listen to

some adverbs to use: desperately, hurriedly, knowingly, teasingly, tauntingly, aimlessly, shamelessly, breathlessly, passionately, delicately, hungrily

he sighed with pleasure

her skin flushed

he shuddered when her body moved against his

he planted kisses along her jawline

her lips turned red, messy, kissed and flushed.

his hands were on his hair, pulling him.

light touches traveled down his back

words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more

he arched his back, his breath quivering

her legs parted, sinking into the other's body, encircling around their waist.

+ mention the position, how they're being moved around---are they face down, kneeling, or standing, or on top or on bottom--it's really helpful to give a clear picture.

+ use lustful talk, slow seduction, teasing touches, erratic breathing, give the readers all while also giving them nothing. make them yearn but DO NOT PROLONG IT.

sources to refer to for more:

gesture that gets me on my knees !!

(more to comeee, check out my hot or kisses prompts on my master list!)

[felibrary]

wish you were sober

synopsis: in which you drunkenly confess to aventurine and he doesn’t believe you, rather believing that he’s not worthy, less even deserving of your love. despite that, his insecurity, you're under the belief that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. love - something that you want to introduce to him and show him “what it means to love you.”

pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 2.3k (i’ve gone insane) | content & warnings: hurt/comfort, alcohol; they're both drunk, insecure aventurine, unestablished relationship, they label themself as friends but reader barely knows anything abt him LMFAO, dual pov, DO YALL GET THE REFERENCE IN THE SYNOPSIS LMFAO??, rushed ending icl, half assed-ly proofread; oneshot

a/n: yesterday i listened to wish you were sober by conan gray and was like “damn.. this’d fit sunday” but then i asked azul what he thinks cause i couldn’t decide between su**day and <aventurine3. and they replied with that it’d be so much more angsty with aventurine (okay not quote on quote but you get the msg) and i dislike su**ay anyway!! so boom! (y’all are still getting another sunday fic..yay..ig.....)

tags: beloved @azullumi <3 and @cherieiu (stop punching me)

“i love you.” 

your confession doesn't come over as surprising for aventurine, he anticipated it. just like how the ebb awaits the flood, yearning for it but disappearing as soon as it arrives. missing out on each other for just a split second, as the other party sweeps and slips away from the grasp of the other. nevertheless aventurine is glued to his seat on the rich sofa. 

colorful poker chips are splattered around the rich mahogany floor tiles, bottles of vodka and wine, some already with their cork removed and empty, others who haven't even been opened yet. a chandelier adorning the ceiling of the big room, its lightbulbs glowing dimly in the caliginous room, illuminating it.

one of the lamps flickers while the others continue to shine brightly - too brightly aventurine thinks, if he were to watch them any longer he’d feel like melting. the closer he got to you the sun, the deeper he'd fall into the bottomless pit he managed to crawl out of.

the room reeks of alcohol. is the temperature rising? he feels like every time the last number on the digital clock changes the warmer it gets. his blond bangs stick to his forehead and beads of sweat are running down his flushed cheeks - that answers his question.

it’s hot - humid even. he's not sure if he's able to bear the heat in this narrow atmosphere any longer. he tries to blow the sweat away by waving at his face with his hand, trying to cool off his face - a futile attempt. god, what's this a/c even good for, if it can't do it's damn job.

he opens his mouth with the intent of wanting to say that you're lying, that you shouldn't say stuff like that when you're drunk and that you'll regret later. but he doesn't, he refrains from doing so. instead he gulps down the words immediately, letter for letter. they're a bitter pillow to swallow. flowing down his throat like the wavering water running down a stream - intoxicating, similar to the alcoholic liquid you've downed.

the blond looks at you through half lidded eyes. you lift yourself off the ground, he takes notice that you have a hard time doing so, legs slightly trembling as you remove them from the floor tiles. (you've always been a lightweight he thinks)

as you make your way over to him, standing up and wanting to sit yourself next to him on the large black leather sofa. you clumsily bump against one of the almost empty shot glasses that still lies on the floor. tripping over the small glass as your foot comes in contact with it. the glass that still contained some of the red wine you've poured in, not too long ago, tumbles as easily as a domino tile, falling upon the smallest touch. making the flimsy piece immediately meet the ground.

it breaks into a few sharp shards and the remaining alcohol starts seeping out of it, staining your once white socks with crimson colored alcohol. “ah m’sorry!” you mumble as you quickly bend down to gingerly pick up the fragments, placing them in the palm of your hand carefully, so that they won't cut you and leave slits.

aventurine takes another peek at you as you tidy up. your face is flushed, your cheeks tinted in a bright red and you let out incoherent sorrys, blabbering incomplete phrases. he wants to tell you that it's alright. that he feels the same and reciprocates yours feelings, that you don't have to apologize and he'll help you.

but he freezes.

the words that he wants to tell you, the ones he's been longing to say don't leave his mouth. neither does he move. instead he coughs, continuing to watch you while you clean up. a tissue has found its way into your right hand, helping you soak up the alcohol. (its his hand that should be intertwined with yours, not the tissue)

his throat hurts. 

(he's not in the right mindspace to acknowledge if it's because of you - the unsaid words that he didn't reveal to you yet or because of the alcohol.) 

it's dry and lacks any kind of refreshing liquid that'd quench the drought that occurs in his throat. he contemplates, thinking about the choices he has. swallowing down his own spit isn't worth it, it makes his throat burn even more.

he comes to the decision to pour himself another glass of alcohol. (debatably his worst decision until now.)

twirling the almost translucent liquid in his glass, before fully gulping it down in one go. a bit of the alcohol escapes the depths of his mouth, running down his chin and messily staining his porcelain-like skin. 

he doesn't like the bitter taste, he can't seem to befriend himself with it. (neither can he befriend him with himself) although it's not the worst, he's just not able to find a reason to like it. after all, after a single sip it starts to sting as it enters his mouth.

the scent isn't great either, it smells strong, too strong for his liking, a scent that reeks of cleaning detergent and not to mention, it prickles on his tongue and burns as it slides down his throat when it makes its way into his blood. but there's one thing aventurine can't deny: it's efficiency.

it fulfills its purpose well making him lightheaded and dizzy, to the point of forgetting everything.

all sounds are drowned out. even the lame pop songs playlist you turned on because you insisted that “it'll set the right mood” is barely audible for him now. his ears hurt hellish, he wants to put his hands over his ears to escape the white noise. the sound that plays in his ears is similar to the one of when an airplane starts boarding - an unpleasant noise.

the only sound that remains for aventurine’s slightly drunk state is your voice. it echoes through his ears. your drunk confession playing over and over in his mind like a broken record, anticipating the day it'll be fixed, so the misery it is in ceases. 

his sloppy and sluggish movements - the way his hands tremble as he pours himself another glass, the nervousness that forms inside his body and the blush that spreads as quickly as a wildfire on his cheeks - they're tormenting him, and he blames none other than the alcohol for it. 

“a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, drunk words are sober thoughts, when you're drunk you reveal your true desires” his ass. the both of you are just friends. friends that are acquainted through work, nothing more, nothing less. aventurine couldn't bear to lose his only friend, after all he's already lost everything.

(anything he'd never want to lose will eventually be lost. it is as if fate had decided that everything that is worth wanting, everything that he wants to have and keep, will be lost the moment he gets his fingers on it. to aventurine there’s nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life that is full of anguish.)

his father whom he never got to meet, his mother and sister whom he was forced to leave behind and kakavasha, his younger self. all will be lost - everything was lost. if he wasn't careful now, one slip up on the thin ice or feet accidentally trampling over the floor full of eggshells, he'd not only lose himself in the process, but you too. his one and only friend.

crossing this line he set for himself, as he drew it along the earthy ground with his calloused fingers, trembling as they traced over the mud.

walking past the border that was created to keep everything and everyone distant from him, as he stood on the other side turning his back from the world, walking away and waving, to bid his goodbye from them.

the wall he built around him to shield him from the world, protecting everyone from the ugly thing that was kept inside , protecting himself from the people that only want to torment him.

forgetting all of these things, leaving them behind for you would mean showing you who he really was. a frail human being that hides himself behind a mask. the theater curtains revealing the person who played the role of the man who had called himself aventurine for the past years. placing him in the spotlight and giving the audience a show they'll never forget, like the fool he is. 

aventurine doesn't think that he is loveable, that he's undeserving of love - your love.

you think that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. providing him with said love, embracing him and showing him how pure love can be. 

the blond caught your eye right away. he was charming, funny and handsome. aventurine turned into your little work crush, your motivation to convince yourself just to see him.

the road was rocky and full of obstacles, set up by none other than aventurine. it gave you a better perception of who he really was and it intrigued you even more. why does he hide himself away from the world? why does he convince himself to not get anyone close to him even though he longs for the touch of another person? who is aventurine, really?

you can't answer any of these questions and neither are you certain if aventurine really can but that doesn't stop you. you continue to climb up all the way to know who he is, who the person you fell in love with really is. 

love, is weird isn't it? it comes in all different shapes and forms.

if someone were to ask you why you like him, you wouldn't know how to answer, because neither do you know.

but nevertheless you still like him. why? how come you like someone that you don't even know, someone that is foreign to you, almost like a stranger. even though the both of you label yourself as “friends.”

you're not sure what the color is that infuses his irises, he keeps them hidden beneath his glasses. despite that, you long to stare into his eyes and let all the plain and dull parts of your life get painted in the same colors of his hues. a color that brings you comfort and cures your sorrow. it's the hues that you want to stare at as you tuck a golden strand of hair behind his ear, in return he grants you a small but genuine smile.

a smile that you want to see more often, one that you want to keep for yourself. 

as for his scent, every person has their own unique and special scent. you plead to the gods above that he’ll let you bury your head into the crook of his neck and absorb his smell so it becomes the only scent that lingers around your nose. 

there are so many more things that you want to know about him but you're unaware of. one might say that you're odd for liking - no, loving someone that you barely know.

a stranger, a foreign person whom you know little about to almost nothing about, is the person that you love. absurd isn't it? but love is weird, love can be pure and ridiculous, but it can also be painful and heart wrenching. love is a feeling that not only brings joy to oneself but also causes pain. but it's a feeling that you never want to get rid of - not until you introduced aventurine to it. showing him what love has to offer and has in store.

in the iridescent light aventurine remains to look as ethereal as ever. a scent of vodka lingers around aventurines figure, the smell is strong, but you couldn't care less. his hair is disheveled but nevertheless continues to shine in the dazzling light. he lets out a tiring yawn and you couldn't imagine aventurine any more beautiful than in this moment.

vulnerable and for your eyes only. making it unable for you to tear your gaze away from the sight before you. 

he's like a shooting star, if you don't continue to watch and follow it and blink, even if it's just for a single moment - it's all over and you'll never see it again. 

“stop looking at me like that.” aventurine mumbles quietly, almost whispering. upon hearing that, you make your way over to him, glass shards long forgotten as you place them on the small coffee table in front of the sofa.

your arms reach out to aventurine, clutching your hands on his shoulders. your grip is sluggish but you don't falter and continue to hold him. “like what?” your lips are slightly parted and your gaze is drowsy as you counter aventurine's question with a question of your own.

“like that.” he placed the hand that just rested on his thigh, on your cheek, slightly caressing it. “you're just gonna hurt the both of us if you keep this up any longer.” he's not sure where the boldness came from, he blames it on the alcohol once again; it finally seemed to kick in.  

“‘m not lying” you hiccup. tomorrow i’ll tell you how much i love you, no matter if it's once” a cough exits your throat “or a hundred times.” the words that leave your mouth are slurred, they're incoherent and muddled up. your grip on his shoulder weakens, hands slipping off and head falling against his chest.

..did you seriously just black out?

aventurine can only sigh at that. a small smile finds its way onto his face. he snakes his arms around you waist, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck and hugging you with the remaining power he had left before falling asleep. guess there'll be a lot to unpack tomorrow but for now he allows himself to indulge in this shared moment between the two of you. 

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

e/n: hope yall enjoyed this as much as i hated writing this!! (i wanted to throw up) i acc hate how i wrote this. it's not as choppy as when i started writing it but it still feels so rushed and so idk.. anyway reblogs with comments are very much appreciated! >< ALSO that one paragraph written in brackets..guess whose speech it was inspired byyyyy (hint: bsd!!)

[twilightkitkat]

Poolverine but they dress up as each other for Halloween. I'm not just talking about swapping costumes—they go all in. They get those facial prosthetics to get each other's skin textures right, Wade goes in with makeup for detailing, and Wade wears a bodysuit while Logan wears slight platform shoes and shapewear to roughly match their builds.

They put on each other's suits and make sure the proportions are as accurate as possible. Wade even goes as far as to call in a few favors to get voice-changing abilities.

Then, Halloween, they pretend to be each other. They try to match each other's personalities and mannerisms and see if anyone can notice.

At first, you'd think it'd be obvious that they switched. But here's the thing: they know each other. Wade knows how Logan moves and talks and acts and fights. Logan knows how to predict Wade's moods and reactions and decisions. They're incredibly self-aware and in sync.

They both show up to their friend's Halloween party dressed as each other. The crowd is incredibly large because everyone invited all the people that they know, which includes Vanessa's new friends and the majority of the X-mansion.

The only person who knew off the bat was Laura. There was no hiding it from her with her sense of smell, but they didn't intend to. She was in on the joke and came to watch the shitshow in action.

When asked about their costume, "Wade" says that Deadpool is what all the kids want to dress up as for Halloween, and he was just following the trend! Besides, no need to waste money buying a costume when he has the best one right in his closet. He's the scariest to be, obviously, because Deadpool is such a fearsome name.

Logan matches Wade's pitch immaculately, curling his voice into a whine before going back to talking cheerily as if nothing happened. Nobody bats an eye, classic Wade behavior.

Any slight imperfections are hidden by the flashing lights and relaxed atmosphere and large crowd. It's hard to pick out their friends in a crowd, let alone tell the differences between their carefully crafted copycat plans.

Laura gets closer to "Logan" and asks him how "Wade" has been lately, playing along. He responds with a grunt and an exasperated but fond summary of Wade's newest hyperfixation, acting as if he didn't know any of the terminology for it.

She has to hide a shit-eating grin when some of the people who knew Logan from the X-mansion came up to greet him and ask him how he's been. Plan successful.

"Logan" reaches out and pats a few heads, lingering just long enough to show he cares but pulling away soon enough to avoid deep intimacy. He answers questions with the same gruff tone as the actual Logan, giving just enough information to satisfy their questions.

Miraculously, the night continues and they haven't been caught. This is quite frankly hilarious because the two had done their rounds with each other's friends and acquaintances and apparently knew enough about each other to answer accurately. It's a pretty big feat, and even Laura has to reluctantly admit she's impressed by how well they know each other to pull this off.

The two draw together near the end, bickering as usual and using each other's tactics. Wade has to stifle a giggle at Logan imitating his out to not break character, and Logan has to hold himself back from burying his face in his hands out of embarrassment.

The real challenge is when Vanessa comes in to greet "Wade," with her new boyfriend in tow. Because Logan knows how Wade should act: vaguely uncomfortable and awkward, cagey toward the new guy, with an undertone of yearning and regret.

He knows this, but it stings. It hurts to know that while Wade and him are living together, a part of Wade will always belong to Vanessa. He knows it's irrational and that he's the main person in Wade's life, but the thought of them together makes him feel vaguely nauseous.

But he promised Wade he'd try to do this with him. They'd made bets and everything about who would find out and who wouldn't. He didn't want to ruin his fun.

So Logan grits his teeth and shifts into character, acting a little tense but also relieved to see her. Acting a bit more closed off and tense when the new guy introduces himself, and a little embarrassed to be seen with "Logan." Guilty, almost, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

But Vanessa's expression isn't remorseful or awkward. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, crosses her arms, and asks him what's wrong. Tells him that something's clearly bothering him and that he knows he can come to her for anything.

Logan becomes confused. What was he doing wrong? Was he not giving her the "puppy dog eyes" convincingly enough? Was he not portraying the bittersweet feeling of seeing "the one who got away" well?

But then she asks him if he and "Logan" were fighting. If something was going wrong in their relationship for him to act so cagey and upset.

...And Logan is baffled. What the hell does them fighting have to do with this?

Until she continues. She tells him that she knows how much "Logan" means to him and that she knows Logan feels the same (it's obvious just in the way he looks at Wade), so she's sure they'll figure it out soon.

She chuckles and shakes her head and says that it's endearing how Wade constantly talks about Logan as if he's the only topic in the world. That she's glad he's happy and that she remembered him asking to meet her boyfriend at some point so he could "rate her taste." She pats his shoulder, placatingly, and tells him that she's always there to talk if anything happens. Then she leaves.

And oh.

Logan thought he had Wade's personality down to a science, that he knew almost everything about him. His thoughts, his feelings, his relationships. ...But apparently, he was wrong for once.

Then he takes a second to stand there and analyze his interactions with Wade. And he realizes that she was right. That Wade glancing constantly back at him when Vanessa was there wasn't awkward pining for his ex, but just Wade wanting to look at Logan.

Now that he thinks about it, Wade doesn't just do that around Vanessa. He did it around almost everyone. He'd intermittently glance at Logan with what he assumed to be embarrassment over him, but now he realizes it was endearment. Awe. Bashfulness and slight pride over getting to introduce Logan to his friends instead of being ashamed of him.

And Logan realized that maybe he didn't know everything about Wade. That maybe, some of his assumptions were based more on his own experiences and past rather than the present. That he let his jealousy and insecurity and anxiety cloud his interpretation until it became foggy, creating the same rough shape but without the structure.

...And Logan smiles, under the mask. A warm, incredulous thing. That Wade spent most of his time with Vanessa talking about him. That it was so obvious Wade loved him that everyone commented on it. He'd never had someone be proud of belonging to him before, showing him off like he was something worth coveting. It felt nice.

Eventually, he rejoined "Logan's" side. He sidled up to him and threw an arm around his shoulder, throwing out a flirty comment and cuddling closer. "Logan" let him, letting his shoulder slump and wrapping an arm around him in return.

"Wade" stared at "Logan," watching his expressions shift and the curve of his lips as they moved. He let the adoration and wonder swell up in him, seeing how accurately Wade played the part.

It was obvious that he was staring, but nobody batted an eye. They all accepted it as normal, as if it was perfectly in character for Wade to stare at Logan with full focus even while people flitted and talked around them.

When Logan leaned in to kiss Wade's shoulder, nobody said anything.

(They manage to make it through the night without anyone calling them out on their impersonation. When they reveal it the next day, everyone is shocked. It was so realistic that they couldn't even tell.

Well, almost everyone is shocked. Laura rolls her eyes and Vanessa hides a knowing smile behind the rim of her coffee cup.)

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, established relationship, reader has sensitive nipples, nipple play(f receiving), brief handjob mention, use of nipple clamps, allusions to PIV sex WC:4K

You were right where you wanted to be, alone together in Eddie's van, not exactly cramped but you liked that it required you to press up against each other a lot more than if you were somewhere more spacious.

After an hour and a half of nervously pulling at the hem of your new pleated skirt, not used to showing your legs off like this, you allowed it to inch up around your thighs when he pulled you closer to straddle his lap, no longer concerned about how much skin you're revealing when he's touching you so eagerly, whispering honeyed praises against your heated skin.

The buttons on your blouse were undone while Eddie had his lips at your neck, sucking and nipping hard enough to make you draw sharp, shuddery breaths. One of his hands snuck underneath the unbuttoned fabric and smoothed over your ribs, thumb tracing the curve of your breast, finding no cotton or lace there this time.

The discovery prompts a smile to emerge on his face which you can feel as he presses sweet kisses along your jaw, one of your own starting to form on your lips as you pluck up the courage to take the lead.

Flattening your palms against his broad chest, you're able to gently guide him back against the leather seat, interrupting the path he was kissing up towards your lips. Eddie lets out a little groan in protest, lips pushing into a pout, not wanting to spend even a moment without his lips on your skin but he's quick to perk up when he sees you start to pull at your blouse.

Easing it down your shoulders, you let him see you like this for the first time, chest completely bare, nipples pert and pulled tight. You’re all warm and soft, perfumed skin turned dewy with a light sheen of sweat; your figure cloaked in moonlight that shines through the windscreen on this lonely dirt road he’s chosen to park at.

In the past, you've only ever let him touch your breasts over your clothes in the short time that you've been together, never receiving any kind of complaint about it from Eddie like you had with some of the boys you’ve dated previously. While those boys had bitched and moaned about it, claiming blue balls and other bullshit excuses in the hopes of getting you to take your clothes off, Eddie had only ever been respectful and considerate, treating you with the decency most others had lacked.

"Shit, baby they're so pretty", he breathed, saying it with so much adoration and sincerity it makes you swoon.

"Can I? please?", he begged softly next, hands drawing closer towards your breasts, waiting for you to give him permission to touch you there.

You draw in a deep breath to prepare yourself.

He was going to find out eventually.

You wanted him to find out. You'd been waiting for him to discover your little secret all on his own because you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes and explain without burning up.

"Yes Eddie, I want you to touch me", you answer with a smile, soft and yearning. Those long, thick fingers you've daydreamed about while watching him pinch the end of a cigarette or pluck aptly at guitar strings were finally reaching for you, climbing higher, thumb and index fingers closing around a perky nipple.

It was easy to anticipate his touch but not the effect of it, calloused fingertips making sparks light up on your skin unlike what you could produce on your own, hot and instantaneous like striking a match.

The way you suddenly gasp and twitch in his lap has him pulling his hand away from surprise, eyes widening, lips parting.

"Sweetheart..."

This was it. This was the part that made your whole face feel like it might go up in smoke, watching the realization spread across his face.

You knew you were pretty sensitive, probably more than most people, some light grazing and gentle squeezing enough to set you alight whenever you played with yourself. For the longest time you wanted to hide it, that feeling only worsening when none of the other boys you went out with showed you the patience or kindness you deserved but with Eddie? Well, you were starting to feel differently about the whole thing now.

"Have they always been like this?", he asks with so much awe pooling in his eyes, all round and practically glittering with excitement that you feel no room for your usual self-consciousness to creep in and make you want to curl away from his sight.

Instead, you lean in a little closer and offer him a chaste nod, breath caught in your throat as he reaches for the same nipple again.

He's a little more gentle this time, index finger pointed to circle the outline of your areola, feeling you twitch and your chest rise and fall with a pleased sigh beneath his fingertip before flicking his eyes up to yours.

"Ever cum from this? just this?"

Oh.

He’s getting right down to it. None of that beating around the bush kind of bullshit and honestly, you liked that.

"Yeah. Yeah, sometimes", you tell him truthfully, growing more excited when he grins up at you, teeth bared like a panther ready to pounce.

Without warning, he begins swiping his thumb back and forth over one tender bud, his bulge growing more prominent under his jeans when you jerk in his lap, thighs squeezing around his hips, letting out a little mewl from the sudden stimulation.

You could have argued that it was mean of him to catch you off guard like that but you didn't. Not when you liked it so much. And he could tell that you did.

Seeing the corner of your lips pick up through your shaky exhale, he progresses to pinching both nipples gently, your spine curving when he tugged on them next and rolls them both between his fingers, squirming in his lap, nails digging into his leather jacket.

"Fuck, baby they're so sensitive", he covers your tits with his large palms, squeezing the soft swell, kneading them.

"Gonna put my mouth on them. That okay?"

"Fuck, yes Eddie please", you choked out, hands leaving his shoulders to wind your fingers into his soft curls, pulling him closer.

He tongues and laps at your nipples with fervor, flicking and swirling, lips sucking the sensitive peaks until you buck and grind down into his lap, clothed clit catching on his bulge perfectly.

The magma he'd breathed into your veins flows through your chest and spills down into your stomach, licking over your bones as it descends, surging, roiling, everything growing hot and contracting tight inside you. "Eddie, oh fuck– wai–", you'd meant to warn him but it all happens much faster and harder than you're used to. You came with your nails scraping along his scalp though he shows no sign of discomfort as you clutched at him, whining so high and loud, the wetness pooling in your panties transferring to his clothes.

Registering the dampness saturating the front of his jeans he reluctantly lets your swollen nipple go, able to pull back when your hold on him slackens, eyes searching for yours.

"Fuck– are you okay? could you do that again? is it too much? do you need a break?", he rambles, caught between not wanting to overwhelm you and wanting to watch you come undone in his lap again and again.

Large warm hands rub soothingly at your waist while you catch your breath, pulse just a little under racing when you give him your answer. One that leads to him making you cum twice more before it's your turn to help sate Eddie's throbbing ache, taking him into your hand and stroking him until he spilled messily all over your fingers.

Sharing your little secret with him sparked an obsession that you happily welcomed. Eddie couldn't get enough of how reactive you were to his touch, the way you writhed and moaned, no penetration required. You reveled in his attention and the pleasure it brought you. So much so that weeks later you find yourself wanting to take things further.

Wanting to surprise him, you had him drive you close to the mall under the pretense of needing to buy something important but it wasn't until you arrived outside the store you'd directed him to that you admitted what the item was.

The adult boutique was one you’d surveyed curiously out of the corner of your eye and only when you were certain no one else could see you do so every time you passed it on your way to the mall, intrigued by the cherry red neon sign advertising its collection of intimate apparel and adult toys, never thinking that one day you'd actually end up going inside.

From the moment you revealed the truth to Eddie, you knew what you were in for. The boy practically lit up like a Christmas tree, unable to contain his excitement. You had to tug him along through the store. Like blinkers on a horse, you kept him on path for what you had come in for, no detours. It was so clear he'd be in there for hours had he come in alone judging by the way his eyes kept darting to every corner, not wanting to miss seeing every item of paraphernalia displayed.

He's like a hummingbird, focus whizzing everywhere, pointing at every item that catches his attention, forgetting the last one as soon as he set his eyes on something new.

"Baby, what about that? you wanna go check it out?"

"Oh my god, look at those"

"What the hell are these even for?"

"Fuck, d'you see the size of that thing?"

And even though you roll your eyes you do find his enthusiasm endearing, even feeling grateful for it because it helps to put you at ease now that you've reached the part of the store you've been looking for.

"Oh honey...", he trails off, taking in the wall length display of literally every kind of nipple clamp one could imagine. While Eddie was awed by it you were a little overwhelmed by the collection and the options available – all kinds of styles, colors and attachments displayed and waiting to be picked.

"I don't know which ones I should choose", you admit, looking to Eddie for some guidance.

"Shit, I'll buy you the whole rack if that's what you want", he reached for a pair fitted with silver bells, poking it with his forefinger to make them chime. Not the most helpful suggestion but the gesture makes you fill with fondness for him nonetheless.

"I just need one pair, Eddie", you remind him with a giggle.

Aside from the store clerk who’d hardly paid either of you any attention, you were the only ones in the store and for that you were thankful. She was stony faced woman who regarded the two of you just once over her magazine when you entered, disinterest clear behind her reading glasses.

She left you and Eddie to browse as you pleased, seemingly having sized the pair of you up as the flustered first-time patrons that you were and looked to be past caring. Honestly, you preferred her distance over the types of sales assistants who tended to hover and with this being an intimate purchase, you'd rather not have a third-party looming over you as you surveyed the options.

You picked up different pairs of clamps off the display, trying to decide what might be best for you, getting Eddie's input too. Some looked cute and appealing and some bore too close a resemblance to something that might be used to commit torture. You ignored those in favor of the less intimidating ones.

"See these ones? they're pretty soft", Eddie picked up what you'd learned from your internet research was a tweezer style clamp, smoothing his thumb along the rubber tip. "Bet they'd fit great", he tells you, nearly holding them up to your breasts before remembering that you're still in public and within the clerk’s line of sight were she to look up from her magazine.

Drawing his hands back just as you let out a sunny laugh, the corner of your eyes crinkling in that way that made him want to kiss you there. He smiled then too; his happiness far vaster than what showed on his face as he saw you beginning to relax. "Anyway, they're not too tight. Adjustable. Could get you nice and worked up with just the right pressure".

It makes your cheeks feel warm hearing him talk about using them on you so unabashedly with that sort of confidence which came more easily to him than it did to you.

"Or these", he picked up a pair of alligator nipple clamps next, similar rubber padded tips adorning it but you know they're a little more advance than the previous pair. "I could get these nice and tight on you...if you want", he added, tapping on the screw mechanism that protruded from its side. "Keep those pretty nipples nice and pinched". He takes a step closer towards you and you can feel the heat radiating off him, just as you're sure he can feel the same coming off you.

You nearly whimper when he tips your chin up, thumb swiping along your bottom lip, tension building. "That what you want? want it to hurt?", he asked, eyes dark.

"Yeah, I want that", you answer, lips pressing against his thumb in a soft kiss, going from demure to brazen in an instant when your tongue slips out to lick the digit, doe eyes turning sultry.

"Jesus, baby..." he felt as if the world was somersaulting.

The choice was obvious then.

The clerk sighed when you approached the counter and set the alligator clamps down, eyes moving from her magazine straight to the register without connecting with either of you as she rang you up.

"Try not to hurt yourself", she said suddenly, all monotonous as your purchase beeped under the scanner and she tapped away on the keyboard.

The comment nearly makes you jump, launching into a sputtering ramble, cheeks very very warm as you assured her that you knew how to use them safely, your mind racing with all you'd learned from your research.

"I meant him", she cuts you off, tipping her head towards Eddie without looking away from the receipt as it spewed out of the thermal printer, tone impossibly bored like she'd been in this situation far more times than could be counted.

Confused, you looked to your boyfriend and quickly understood, finding his cheeks colored a deep shade of mauve, looking like the anticipation of what was to come had gotten the better of him. Your little playful swipe of your tongue must have affected him more than he'd let on.

"Remember to breathe or you'll get lightheaded, son", she advised, the epitome of world-weary. She tore off the receipt and held out your bagged up clamps in one hand and took her magazine back into the other, eyes lowering back to her article.

Eddie cleared his throat, the color draining from his face. Yours felt paper dry when you swallowed, mutely collecting your purchase before joining him in slinking away to the exit.

~

Eddie made the ride home in less time than you thought possible, even with you reminding him to slow down every time he pushed down too much on the accelerator. The mood wasn’t dampened for very long after you’d left the store.

"Sorry babe– I just can't wait", he’d said to you, smile bright, one hand leaving the steering wheel to squeeze your thigh. You felt the same way.

Back at yours, the bag rustled noisily in Eddie’s hold as he nearly tears the thing apart trying to get the clamps out while kicking off his shoes at the same time. You do your part in the meanwhile, shedding your layers of clothing until you’re left in just your panties.

“Alright” he huffed, cheeks pink, wielding the freed clamps, bag crumpled by his feet, tossing his shirt off and undoing his belt. “Got em. So how do you want to do this?”

“I was hoping we could try something I saw a few days ago?”, you posit hopefully.

Eyebrows raising, he listened intently as you told him about the videos you’d watched as part of your research. You had to click through quite a few, multiple viewings of women bound in leather and chains in dingy, scarlet rooms, their nipples slapped and pulled and clamped so tight it made you grimace. None of it was how you wanted to spend your first time using your own clamps with Eddie but then you found a different kind of video. Soft lighting, gentle caresses, airy moans. Sensual, lingering touches that made your own arousal climb, picturing your boyfriend handling you like that - readying you with both delicate care and fervent hands.

“That’s how I want you to touch me at the start. 'Want it like that before you put them on me”, you tell him.

With his pulse pounding and just as the clerk had advised, Eddie remembers to take a deep breath because listening to you talk about how you want him to touch you has him so terribly excited already. “Yeah, I can do that”, he replied, Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed.

So, you positioned yourselves in the same way as in the video you’d watched. Eddie laid back in bed in his boxers, his back against the headboard and legs spread enough for you to lie between them with your head resting against his chest.

The clamps are set aside on your bedside table for the time being. He’s sweet with you as he gets you ready, lips dropping kisses on your cheek, neck and shoulder, hands warming your waist, climbing higher to cup your breasts gently.

“You’re amazing you know that? Surprising me today with all of this”, he squeezed gently and you sighed like you've been deprived of his touch for too long.

“Wanted to do it sooner”, you breathed, fingers furling over your thighs.

“Yeah?”, he prompts, swiping a thumb mildly over your right nipple, coaxing it to perk up.

“Yeah…you make me feel so good…so safe…never would have done it if it wasn’t for you, Eddie”, you confide, earnestly.

His heart swells hearing you say all that about him. “Sweetheart”, he crooned, feeling you shiver in his arms when he said it, rolling your left nipple between his fingers as you moan.

You let him touch you like this for a few minutes, fingers circling, sweeping gently over each peak, surprising you with an occasional pinch and groaning proudly when it made you arch into him further.

“Eddie, I think I’m ready now”, you let him know with a soft whimper.

He picks up one of the clamps and brings it up to your chest, pressing down on the lever, both of your eyes trained on the rubber tips parting to make room for your nipple.

“Gonna start with one. Okay?”, he circled your right nipple and you sucked in a short breath in preparation.

“Okay”

It’s impossible to feel nervous when he’s holding you so lovingly, letting the rubber tips close around your nipple gently. "How's that feel?", he makes sure to check. Your right breast pulsed from the scintillating twinge; the peak of your nipple squeezed just the perfect amount between the clamps.

"Good, really good– hurts but not too much. I like it", you explain softly

He clamps the second one on as well, the same sensation washing over your left breast too, the weight of the clamps hanging on your chest heightening the intensity with a gentle pull adding to the pinch.

"Fuck, these look amazing on you", he praised with a low drawl.

You could feel Eddie's cock pushing against the base of your spine now, trapped behind his boxers for the time being. "Think you could play with your clit for me? Until it’s time to take them off?", he requests sweetly.

You nod, working a hand between your thighs, finding the bump of your clit over your panties and rubbing gently to stave the pressure inside you.

"That's my good girl", he encourages you. It makes him feel greedy listening to you pleasure yourself while he squeezes your tits, committing every little mewl and moan to memory, lightly nudging and tugging at the clamps.

“Can still hardly believe this if I’m being honest, honey”, he mumbles against your cheek, his chin balanced on your shoulder.

“Because I don’t seem the type?”, you guessed with a whimper.

“You hid it pretty well, you have to admit”, he shrugged “Unlike me. It’s no secret that I’m into this stuff. Just look at me”

You giggle softly. “Yeah, the handcuff belt’s not the most subtle thing, is it?” you teased and it makes Eddie laugh too.

“It wasn’t easy. Hiding it from you I mean. I didn’t want to. I’m glad I don’t have to anymore”, you tell him gasping as your clit throbs beneath your fingers, panties growing damp with slick.

“Me too– Jesus you look so fucking sexy with these on, angel. Pretty naughty”, he winds a hand up to wrap around your throat in a light grasp, tugging on one of the clamps with the other.

“Eddie… how much longer?”, you whined, feeling impatient.

“Just a little longer, baby”, he chuckled.

The pinch begins to develop into a sting, not unpleasant but definitely more intense now. Your fingers slow down on your clit, still working you up but not enough to tip you over the edge.

The longer the clamps remain on your body the more you begin to squirm and twist like you’re trying to get away from the pinch, nearing your limit and Eddie senses it easily.

“Alright, let’s get them off.”

Gently, he takes off the right one first, marveling at how swollen and puffy your nipple looks now. It tingles as the blood flow resumes, a subtle throbbing coursing through in time with your heartbeat as well. when Eddie removes the second one next it feels the same, both of your nipples tingling and throbbing, so tender and in desperate need of having his fingers on them.

“Eddie please touch me”, you mewl, raking your nails over his thigh with your free hand.

It’s fiery bliss when he plays with your nipples now, making you cry out when he drags the blunt edge of a nail across your areola.

“That’s it baby, keep playing with that pretty clit for me– god, they’re so fucking perfect and sensitive”

You work yourself over with messy circles, taking on a sloppy but firm rhythm as you continue to stimulate your twitching clit.

“I meant what I said back at the store. I’ll buy you whatever you want, shit– we’ll have to because I’m going to wear these the fuck out, I can already tell”, he groans into the juncture of your neck, lightly humping his cock against your lower back for some much needed relief.

“Eddie” you moan, your orgasm in sight as he rolls your sore nipples between his fingers, tugging them and releasing them to watch your breasts bounce against your chest.

“You’d look so pretty with them on while you bounce on my cock. You want that don’t you? Want me to fill you up while you show off these pretty tits?”

Your fingers have turned tacky with your slick, the beginnings of a cramp starting to form in your knuckles but you're too fucking close to even think of stopping now. “Yes, Eddie – wanna feel you inside while I wear them”, you keen, your thighs squeezing so tight, the same as your belly when finally, the floodgates containing your pleasure swing open.

The impact feels like a thunderclap, a choked cry of Eddie's name spilling out of you as you writhe in his arms, spine curving into a beautiful arch, nails sinking into your bedsheets, your cunt drenching your panties with your tangy essence.

When you come to, you feel like you've been drifting in and out of weightlessness, realizing Eddie's been soothing you through the comedown, gently stroking your body when you turn around to blink up at him, smiling thankfully.

"How'd that feel?" he asks as if the answer wasn't obvious.

"Amazing", you tell him anyway. "Fuck Eds, I wanna do it again".

His smile widens into a toothy grin. He turns to snatch up the clamps once more from the bedside table before he wrestles you onto your back, peeling your wet panties from your body as you squeal delightedly, face flaring hot when he takes a moment to lick at the slick soaked cotton and lets out a rumbling groan.

"Good because–", he moves on to gently reattaching the clamps onto your swollen nipples again as you mewl, tugging his boxers off and letting them join your panties on the floor. "Gonna make you cum all over my cock while you wear them this time."

[yutasbellybuttonpiercing]

#3 "i dare you to fuck me (hoshi)"

kinktober 2024 — #3

pairing: kwon soonyoung/ hoshi x reader

au/genre: smut, slightly fluffy (?), best friends!au

word count: 4293 words

warnings: brief nipple play, fingering (f receiving), not detailed oral (f receiving), awkwardness, a bet about orgasms, soonyoung has a big dick (how does this always happen?), piv sex (reader is on unspecified birth control), unrealistic stamina, cream pie 💞

a/n: I WUV HOSHI 🐯 also, can someone please count how many times i've described his body as muscular?

taglist: @rjreins @meowniee @deezbin @ant-onie @ablackbtsstan @gacktsa

"There just is no way you can do it, no one can!" A groan escapes you as you fall back onto your mattress, throwing a pillow over your face to hide your half-embarrassed, half-distressed feelings written all over your face. It's awfully quiet for a moment, and to have a peek to what you assume is happening, you remove the pillow, immediately being greeted with your best friend's face hovering mere inches in front of your own, signed with that look – and therefore be proven correctly.

"I think I can." Soonyoung grins, leaning in closer. His knees rest on each side next to your hips on the mattress, his hands creating deep imprints beside your shoulders as he stares down at you. Involuntarily, your breath hitches. You find yourself staring into his eyes, switching from one to the other as your own widen in realization that – maybe – you're not as much against the idea as you initially suspected.

Soonyoung is commonly known to be absolutely competitive. If everyone was backing down from a challenge, Soonyoung would be the last man standing, facing the difficulties and tearing them apart like a cheese grater. It is something you do admire about him, well, under normal circumstances that do not include your... your body.

"And I think you're being a creep," you announce, pressing your pointer finger to his forehead to push him away. With a whine, he compliantly retracts, a pout forming on his lips, all while you feel like you can finally breathe again. With a scoot, you sit up against the headboard, switching between looking at your best friend and fighting your hardest battle of trying not to look at him. 

"Well, I think you're not giving me a chance," he states, criss-crossing his toned legs that you probably shouldn't gaze upon right now to stand your point, but how could you when they're practically begging for you to bite into their muscly flesh?

"Well, I think-" You're forcing your eyes to take in anything but his thighs – a quest hard enough to bring even the strongest soldier to their knees in defeat – "that would cross boundaries that can't be un-crossed."

The playful glint in his eyes disappears suddenly, leaving him to contort his brows in concern. "For real?"

"I mean, yeah?" Your shoulders tense up and your fingers begin fiddling with a loose string on your sock. "Look, the thing is that I'm fine. I don't need to- you know."

The look he sends you is unbelieving, doubtful, unconvinced.

"It was just a random fact I threw into this conversation, I didn't mean for you to jump on the opportunity," you reason, hands gesturing weirdly in front of your chest.

"Alright, my bad," he grins and you thank the universe for the one thing that characterizes your best friend more than his competitiveness: his naivety to believe every lie you tell. Because if he'd tried convincing you for a minute longer, you would've presumably given in. It's not like you don't want to, it's not like the voice between your legs hasn't yearned for Soonyoung's touch once or twice or thrice or more in the past years of being friends. It's just that- how does one move on from that?

"Great!"

"I mean it's your choice if you don't want to cum." Soonyoung shrugs, eyebrows risen with a sly smile on his face as he turns his head, then side-eyes you.

"Exactly." You grin fakely.

"I mean, not to brag, but the feeling is pretty great."

"I know. I can do it myself."

"Sure, but" he sighs dreamily "it's different through the hands of another person."

"Weren't we going to play Mario Kart?" You ask through gritted teeth, trying to change the topic away from your sex-life. Soonyoung might be great at a lot of things, most things even, but how can you be sure he's good at this too? How does one move on from that – okay, maybe that’s somehow possible… but how does one move on from that failing miserably?

"Oh, of course," Soonyoung scoots to sit down next to you and presses a controller into your hands. You would like to say the cool material eases the sweaty feeling of your palms, but it actually intensifies, highlights the feeling, and you try your best to ignore how it threatens to glide from your wet digits every passing second. Not long after, the game starts with Soonyoung immediately taking first place. You try to concentrate, mood dropping when you have to, once again, realize that he is pretty much unbeatable. Saltily, you side-eye him, only to see a smug grin on his face. "What can I say, I'm pretty good with my hands."

"Oh, for God's sake!" You throw the controller down, crossing your arms over your chest and watch Soonyoung win the game just seconds later. Slowly, he turns his head towards you, grinning evilly.

"What?"

"Nothing," he smiles sweetly and you huff, then get ready for the next round which goes by just as quickly as the first, and with the same outcome. Annoyed, you throw the controller across the bed only for it to bounce off the edge and hit the floor with a thump. 

"You seem pretty tense, maybe I should help you relax," Soonyoung grins, and you wish upon the Gods to either let the ground swallow you whole or to give you a way to wipe his awful smugness off his handsome features.

Maybe you could punch him. It would most certainly shut him up, but you're not a violent person. You like peace, you like the pigeons, and punching him would only result in the same outcome of a ruined friendship, but without the fun.

Maybe you could kiss him. It would also ruin the friendship, but at least you get half the fun. 

Maybe you should just go for broke.

"Okay," you simply say. Judging by the look that takes over Soonyoung's face, he is definitely surprised, but not opposed. He blinks, bottom lip pushing forward in disbelief.

"What?"

"Do it," you demand, grabbing the remote to turn of the TV (the Mario Kart Theme Song is not the ideal background music for getting intimate with your best friend, you decide) and lay down on your back. With a swift motion, you lose your pants, kicking them off your legs and down the bed to pool in a little jean-mountain next to the controller you'd sent off earlier.

Soonyoung looks like he's been petrified while looking at a pot of freshly made budae jiggae. It takes him another split of a second to collect himself before he comes crawling over to you. "Are you sure?" 

"I'm sure that if you don't do something right now I will kick you out and keep your switch," you answer blandly and, in the same breath, wonder when all of your uncertainty turned into passive-aggressiveness and impatience. 

"I didn't pressure you into this, right?" Soonyoung's stare into your eyes is so intense that a part of you melts, but a different part of you wants to show him, to prove him wrong. There is no one who's ever been patient enough with you to make you finish, so maybe it's your poor choice of men, maybe it's your body, maybe it's something else entirely. Of course it bothered you at first, but you've come to terms with it. That was until today. There is just no way that he can bring you an orgasm. It cannot be that simple.

"I swear to God-"

"Can I kiss you?" Soonyoung's voice sounds so soft, uncharacteristically soft. He's appeared besides you, finally settled in laying on his side, slightly towering over your form. The scent of his cologne meets your nostrils as you dare to look up at him, a dark gaze set upon his eyes that makes you gulp, throat drying up with the thought of what's to come.

"Just do whatever you need to-" You don't even get to finish before his soft lips press against yours. He slips his hand beneath your chin to lift it up the slightest bit for better access. His mouth moves gently against your own, obnoxious sounds of lips parting and connecting again litters the quiet room. Sounds that would usually make you gag upon hearing them, but something about it being him makes it okay, makes you not even realize. 

It's then when you notice his hand leaving your chin, trusting the way your lips move against his own that you will not pull away without the support. He traces your form, hand stroking over your sides to come to a quick halt at your hips. You gasp as he moves it up again to gently trace the outlines of your breasts through your shirt. 

Tingling sensations of want spray through your body like a miniature firework. Soonyoung knows how to touch you, even though he never has, not like that, and when his thumb brushes over your clothed nipple, you gasp against his lips.

You just know he's going to be smug about it, you're not even surprised when you feel him smirk against your lips before resuming to kiss you deeply, adding a little tongue to lick over your lower lip, not yet begging for entry.

His hand leaves your breast, and you feel a little disappointed until you realize he pushes your shirt upwards to create real, skin-on-skin contact with your nipple again. You'd be surprised at how easy it was for you to let yourself go for him, to let him in, to let him explore, if you could concentrate on anything but the way his self-declared skillful fingers are making you feel right now. 

With your shirt pushed further up to reveal your body to his eyes, his lips leave yours to attach to a nipple instead, sensually licking and sucking on the bud to leave you back-arched and hungry for more. You voice your wish, and Soonyoung, not without a chuckle, lets go of your breasts to kiss you once again. 

His hand leaves your chest to travel south, tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach briefly before exploring the sensitivity of your thighs. He traces soft patterns on the supple flesh, riling you up even more before finally attending to your clothed core. 

At the first touch, your eyes roll back behind closed lids, hips bucking into his touch as if having a mind of their own. You know he can feel how your wetness drenched the flimsy material of your panties, and when he finally reaches inside, you feel much less like needing to prove a point. To say his fingers feel good would be an understatement, you would even dare say that you've never had someone else’s touch feel this good.

Soonyoung glides a finger through your folds, collecting enough of your wetness to spread upwards over your clit, then begins circling it. The action makes you clench around nothing. He knows just how to touch you, and you start to believe that he might actually be able to make it happen.

His motions, speed and pressure intensify over time, making you grasp the sheets to keep yourself from thrashing around. At this point, you don't even realize the sounds you're making, nor the volume of them, only spurring Soonyoung on to keep touching you just like that. 

Pressure begins building. Your heart skips a beat, then hammers away at twice its original pace to make up for it. The familiar knot in your stomach keeps forming, you cry out, hands, touching everywhere at once to find the closure of knowing what to do with yourself, finding refugee on Soonyoung's shirt. Your lips are no longer connected, instead your forehead rests pressed against his, allowing your panting breath to tickle his lips.

It's happening, it's going to happen-

It’s… it’s gone.

As slowly as it came, it ended abruptly. It still feels good, everything feels so, so good. You feel yourself being on fire, every part of you yearns to feel Soonyoung, more of Soonyoung and Soonyoung everywhere. It's just not enough.

Whether he felt your build up and crashing or not, he does not seem to be ready to give up just yet, instead reaching down to insert a finger into your waiting hole, then another. His movements are neat, concentrated on making you see stars with the way he drags along your walls, pads of his fingers pressing upward to massage into your spot just right.

It builds, it builds, and it's gone.

Reading your signs, Soonyoung moves to lie between your legs. The absolutely drenched material of your panties meets the floor moments later before Soonyoung dives in, lips and tongue connecting to form a firework of sensations between your legs. But it's just not enough, you realize, and you feel like crying. It can't be, he is doing everything right, better than right, so why isn't it working?

"S-Soonyoung-" you bring out. "It's not- it's not working."

"Are you sure? I mean, I could-"

"I can't. It's not going to happen."

"Just let go-"

"I can't!"

"Please-"

"Just let it go!"

It's not awkward, it just feels a little weird. None of you had realized just how much time Soonyoung spent between your thighs, and the reality came crashing down on you as you looked at your phone to overcome the awkward silence, showing numbers that indicated that Soonyoung's last bus was gone for good and there was no way for him to get home.

Hence, the two of you stare holes into the darkness lying next to each other on your bed about half an hour later. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't-" Soonyoung whispers into the quiet room.

"That's why I told you, it's impossible," you whine, hiding your face in your hands even though he can't see you anyway. 

"Was it... just not good in general?" The uncertainty in Soonyoung's voice is uncharacteristic for him, voice usually overflowing with confidence to a point where it's almost unbearably annoying sometimes. It makes your heart ache.

"No, you were not the problem. You did... everything right, to be honest. I don't want to stroke your already massive ego too much, but I've never been touched like that," you admit, turning to your side to face where you assume him to be.

"Phew," he says, and you can hear the playfulness in his voice clearly. You roll your eyes, but crack a smile. Rustling noises coming from Soonyoung's side of the bed, paired with dipping motions of the mattress that let you guess that Soonyoung's turned to face you as well. Carefully, you reach out to touch him.

"That's my f-, I swear to God if your finger ends up in my nose, that's your problem- no wait, I'll turn on the light," Soonyoung says and follows his own words with actions, and you giggle, closing your eyes to shield them from the stinging brightness of your lamp and scooting your body closer to Soonyoung until you can feel the warmth radiating from his body not only on your hand, that's touching his chest. It's silent for a minute.

"It was really good..." you admit again, Soonyoung's scent reminding you of the happenings earlier, and maybe this is your subconsciousness telling you to try it again, but you're unaware of it.

"If I didn't know any better, I could swear you're trying to fuck me right now," Soonyoung laughs and earns slaps to his chest from you until he has enough and grabs your wrist. "For real though..."

"What?"

"Let's try it again- wait! Hear me out," he warns, and you shut your opening mouth in defeat. "Let's make it a competition, whoever cums first has to buy ice cream tomorrow."

"Ice cream?" You mumble, head spinning a little at his eagerness to try again. You can't believe that this is only his competitiveness speaking, yet you can only speculate the reason why he is so head over heels at the idea of being intimate with you again.

"Ice cream," he confirms, but the tone of his voice dropped in both deepness and volume. A tingling sensation washes over your body, causing your breath to come out shakily as you subconsciously press yourself closer to Soonyoung.

"But isn't ice cream like really cheap? Shouldn't we compete for something a little more... expensive?" You don't notice how your tone changed as well, making it sound like you're unintentionally purring your words.

"It's not about the ice cream, silly," Soonyoung tsks, making you look up at him once again by lifting your chin, "I just want you."

You whimper at that, and fortunately, Soonyoung is quick enough to pull you into another kiss before you can feel embarrassed about your shameless display of attraction. Quickly, the kiss gets heated, yet not hasty, no teeth clashing, no lips crashing, just raw desire and a little too much spit. It’s perfect.

Soonyoung’s hands find your waist, pulling you closer, before shamelessly reaching for the supple flesh of your ass, generously groping a cheek with his hand, making you whimper once again, uncoordinated hands tugging at his shirt, wanting it off, wanting to see the bulky richness of the body you know he’s sculpted to upmost perfection at the gym in the past years.

Following your desperate request, Soonyoung pulls the fabric over his head, he himself too affected to even act cocky about you wanting an opportunity to visually take in his beefy torso, instead panting softly as his intense gaze meets yours.

Though not for long, as yours immediately falls to his strong chest, muscles visibly bulging through his skin, and you can feel yourself gulping from drooling so much. Your nimble fingers quickly find their way onto his skin, softly exploring the wide expanse of muscle paradise as your lips find his again. 

Soonyoung softly grunts into your mouth as your fingertips briefly circle his assumably sensitive nipple, then softly pushes you onto your back to hover above you effortlessly, strong arms wrapping around your figure before pulling your shirt off as well.

The in between is a bit of a blur, every glimpse at Soonyoung's body enough to get your head spinning, every one of his touches feeling electric with how turned on you are, and soon, there's not a layer of clothing separating you. 

Soonyoung reaches down gently, spreading your folds with his fingers to find your wetness greeting him once again, insisting on preparing you for what's to come as he softly kisses along your neck.

This time, you feel, he's less determined, there's no goal in his mind, he genuinely wants to explore the depths of you, every little part he missed in his determination earlier. But that doesn't make it any less mind blowing.

“You’re so… perfect,” he mumbles into your neck, the sound almost getting lost in your gasps and soft moans as he stretches you with three of his digits. 

“Soonyoung…” you whimper needily, trembling hands running down his body, reaching their destination as you wrap a hand around his length. 

“Fuck, you’re big,” you gasp in mild surprise, unable to hold back the implied compliment, and the charged atmosphere briefly lightens as Soonyoung lets out a soft chuckle. 

“You want it?” He asks, and it’s not only a question of if, but also him trying to gauge if you're ready for him yet.

“Mm,” you hum in approval, hooded eyes hazily looking up at him as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Soonyoung lets out one last breathy chuckle before aligning himself with your entrance, intense gaze meeting yours as he carefully shifts forward, his tip briefly catching on your hole before sliding inside.

Your breath hitches at the stretch despite his preparations, yet you want more, you want all of him, all of Soonyoung as deeply as possible, and to never let him go. And he complies, slowly pushing deeper and deeper, every vein dragging deliciously along your walls that struggle to adjust to the intrusion.

With your eyes rolling back, you let out a soft groan, hands grabbing onto his bulging biceps for any form of stability as your head spins, his tip seeming to slide deeper endlessly, his cock filling you to the very brim before he finally bottoms out.

“Holy shit,” Soonyoung grunts softly, panting breaths leaving his parted lips, eyebrows scrunched in a mix of raw pleasure and trying to hold himself back from just pounding into you right now.

He takes a deep breath, grabbing onto your thigh to adjust it around his waist before stroking all the way over the flesh of your ass and up your waist where he rests his hand to hold you in place as he pulls back slightly, then thrusts experimentally.

A whine escapes your parted lips, fireworks going off behind closed lids, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy at the feeling combined with the mere reality of this situation. Soonyoung’s inside you, reaching depths that you’d naively describe as uncharted territory, and, God, he feels heavenly. And your body seems to agree, clenching automatically as if not wanting to ever let him pull out entirely again.

Soonyoung gasps, then buries his face in your neck again, lips attaching to your skin, peppering open mouthed kisses everywhere he can reach as he repeats his thrust before setting a slow yet steady pace.

Moans tumble from your mouth uncontrollably, the bet about ice cream long forgotten, as well as your uncertainty about whether you can even cum from someone else's touch. 

And Soonyoung takes you for hours, pushing your legs and body into every possible position one could think of, whispering sweet yet dirty nothings into your ear for only you to hear, and gifting you the best night of your life. 

By the time he announces that he's close, he’s a panting mess, a layer of sweat covering his muscular body while the wetness between your legs has increased to a point where it's almost too slippers, and yet all you feel is pure bliss.

“Cum in me,” you gasp breathlessly, your legs feeling like jelly at this point, “it’s fine… cum in me…”

With his last remaining strength, Soonyoung’s head snaps up, a look of pure astonishment on his face, “for real?”

“Y-yeah.. yeah, I’m-,” you interrupt yourself with a moan as Soonyoung’s thrusts pick up, “yeah..”

“Oh my God..” Soonyoung’s moans get whinier, a tad higher in pitch as he gets closer and closer. He’s managed to manhandle you back into your original position with you on your back, and his hands grip onto your waist to be able to piston his hips into you faster, his face buried in your neck as he grunts in pleasure, “oh, fuck, thank you…”

His thrusts get sloppier, almost losing their rhythm and all you can focus on is how his body slowly tenses up more and more, the veins on his strong forearms bulging as he moans your name into your neck needily. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

Just as you open your mouth to encourage him once again, he picks up his pace yet again, pounding his hips into yours with such force and speed that it makes the bed crash against the wall repeatedly. It takes you by surprise, your back arching and your jaw dropping at the sudden overwhelming sensation, your nails digging into the skin of Soonyoung’s wide shoulders.

He pushes into you harder and harder, as if losing himself completely, his moans growing louder and louder, maybe a bit too loud for the time of night, but neither of you care, merely focused on the pleasure you’re both feeling. 

Soonyoung bottoms out again, once, twice, before pushing in impossibly deep, and you can physically feel the exact moment he orgasms, his length pulsating wildly and a warm sensation filling you, and that’s when it happens. 

With a soft, tired whine, you feel the knot in your stomach, that you didn’t even notice was forming, snap, your own walls clamping down around Soonyoung repeatedly, albeit rather softly and not as intense as Soonyoung’s high. It takes you a moment to realize.

Your eyes widen. Was that…? The same moment, Soonyoung’s head snaps up, his eyes as wide as your own. Oh, he felt it.

“Did you…?” He whispers, as if afraid that if he talked too loudly, it would turn back time and undo your orgasm.

With parted lips, you stare back at him, “I… y-yeah…”

You expected everything from a cocky remark over an ick-triggering victory dance to an actual orgasm-celebration party featuring everyone Soonyoung’s known since birth, but Soonyoung just leans back down and hugs you tightly. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper back. Hesitantly due to your surprise, you slowly brush your fingers through his hair, suddenly deeply in thought.

Soonyoung actually made you cum? And it was… that easy? Well, despite the fact that it took literal hours… and why did it happen when he- and generally, what now?

“Can I take you out on a date after getting you ice cream?” Soonyoung suddenly speaks up, too exhausted to lift his head once more so his voice gets muffled in your neck.

“Huh?” You ask, sure you must’ve misheard him.

“Date…” is all Soonyoung can mumble.

“You-,” you begin, but quickly shut up. Why not? “Yeah, why not?”

“Fabulous,” Soonyoung mumbles, then presses a wet kiss to your shoulder. A few minutes pass by before he speaks up again. “I’m feeling sticky. Are you feeling sticky? Let’s shower…” he lifts his head, then slowly begins grinning. “We can reminisce about this experience in there…”

Ah, there he is. 

© 2024 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.

[thewulf]

Teaching Trails || Azriel

Summary: Request - can i request a teacher reader x azriel where she's Nyx's teacher/tutor and feyre or rhysand asks az to pick him up since they're busy and he swears he falls in love on sight seeing reader be so sweet on Nyxie and how comfortable Nyx is around reader? just something sweet and fluffy and maybe a super nervous az when reader notices him at the doorway?? You can decide the rest. love your work!

A/N: Ahhhh I loved writing this. Idk I just picture Nyx as a sweet bubbly 5/6 year old in this. Adored writing this!

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Night Court Reader)

Word Count: 5.0k +

TW: Use of Magic (fluffy!!)

As you stand at the edge of one of the many expansive terraces of the House of Wind, the air around you is crisp, the sky a clear, deep blue above the sprawling city of Velaris below. This majestic residence is perched like an eagle's nest atop a solitary mountain and commands a breathtaking view of the Night Court. Its beauty a sure giveaway to ancient power and elegance. Yet despite its grandeur there’s a poignant isolation to it. Especially for young Nyx, whose days are spent within these walls that soar closer to the stars than to the streets where other children play.

Inside the palace is a labyrinth of ornate halls and vast chambers. Each room a masterpiece of art and architecture designed for gods rather than a playful child. The echo of Nyx’s laughter often bounces off the high ceilings. A reminder of the solitude that accompanies his royal upbringing. He is a small but vibrant figure roaming the endless corridors exploring shadowed corners and hidden nooks. His solitude veiled by the splendor surrounding him.

It's during one such quiet evening as the horizon painted a watercolor of twilight hues that Feyre brings up her growing concern to Rhysand. They are in their private chambers. A place where the masks of High Lord and Lady can be set aside. Where vulnerabilities can be voiced without the weight of a crown.

"Nyx needs more than just us. He needs more than this palace," Feyre starts with her voice steady yet filled with an urgency that draws Rhysand’s full attention. "He’s missing out on normal interactions. The kind that happen away from royal duties and ceremonial greetings. He’s a child. He should be learning through play, through friendships formed in mud and laughter. Not just in state rooms and formal gardens."

Rhysand’s expression is torn. As a father he yearns for Nyx to have every happiness the world can offer. But as a ruler the thought of his son, so precious and so exposed, wandering beyond the enchanted safety of their home is daunting. "It's dangerous, Feyre," he counters. His voice laced with a protective edge. "The world isn’t always kind, especially not to those of royal blood."

"But isn’t it more dangerous to raise him in a bubble? How will he learn to lead? To understand his people, if he only ever sees them from a balcony or at formal events?" Feyre’s hands gesture emphatically. Her eyes alight with passion. "We need to let him explore, Rhys. We need to let him be a child. Not just a prince." Their conversation stretches into the night. Debates entwined with silent contemplations until a resolution begins to dawn much like the first light over the Sidra. Rhysand’s fears don’t dissipate entirely but his love for Nyx and his trust in Feyre’s instincts lead him to a concession.

"Alright," he says finally. A reluctant smile breaking through his concerns. "We’ll find him a teacher. Someone who can guide him, teach him, yes, but also someone who can take him beyond these walls. Let him learn about life. About our people through his own experiences. Not just through stories and reports."

Feyre’s relief is palpable and together they set out to find the perfect candidate. The search is exhaustive with candidates from across Prythian and beyond interviewed. They seek not just an educator but a guardian of sorts. Someone who understands the delicate balance of nurturing a child like Nyx. Someone who can foster his curiosity and protect his spirit.

The search for a tutor for young Nyx was not a decision taken lightly. Within the ornate conference room of the House of Wind, Feyre, Rhysand, and other key members of the Inner Circle—save for Azriel, who was away on duty—gathered to commence the rigorous interview process. The room was filled with an air of solemnity as each candidate presented themselves. Their credentials scrutinized not just for academic excellence but for a deeper understanding and alignment with the values of the Night Court.

Mor, with her keen sense of people, led the questioning. Her bright eyes missing nothing. Cassian injected moments of levity lightening the mood with his humor. While Amren's piercing gaze seemed to delve into the very souls of the candidates searching for sincerity and resilience. Each member of the Inner Circle brought their own perspective ensuring that the chosen teacher would not only educate Nyx academically but would also nurture his emotional and cultural development.

Then you entered the room. With a demeanor both warm and composed you introduced yourself. As you spoke about your educational philosophy making sure to emphasize experiential learning and emotional intelligence the panel was visibly impressed. Your background in educational psychology coupled with your years of experience teaching in diverse environments highlighted your capability to adapt and thrive in any teaching scenario. More importantly your genuine passion for fostering young minds resonated deeply with Feyre who nodded appreciatively at your thoughtful answers.

Throughout the interview, your approach to education which focused on developing both the intellect and the heart of a student was clearly aligned with the Night Court's ideals. You spoke of the importance of understanding each student's unique needs and adapting lessons to fit those needs. Even suggesting outdoor classes and cultural excursions that would allow Nyx to learn about his heritage in a tangible, engaging way.

As the interviews concluded and the candidates departed the room buzzed with discussions. It was clear to everyone that you stood out not just for your qualifications but for the gentle strength you exhibited. A trait they all deemed perfect for handling the sensitive nature of their prince's education.

When the decision was made Feyre personally reached out to offer you the position. The joy and excitement in your voice as you accepted was palpable. Aware of the immense responsibility of teaching the heir of the Night Court you were nonetheless thrilled by the opportunity to make a significant impact in a young child's life.

As you prepared to step into this new role your heart was buoyant with anticipation. Not just for the challenges ahead but for the chance to contribute to shaping a future leader of the Night Court. The trust placed in you by such revered figures was not just an honor but a truth to your life's work and passion igniting a fervent desire to start this new chapter.

In the heart of Velaris away from the towering isolation of the House of Wind you spend a delightful morning with Nyx at one of the city's lush public gardens. The day is warm. The gentle buzz of the city a distant backdrop to the laughter and learning that fills the air around the two of you.

You laid out a picnic blanket under the shade of a towering silverleaf tree. The spread covered with books, sketchpads, and an assortment of colorful pencils. Today's lesson is about the flora and fauna of Prythian. A topic that has Nyx bubbling with excitement and curiosity. As he sketches a butterfly that landed briefly on the edge of your blanket you explain the role of pollinators in the ecosystem, delighted by his insightful questions and the meticulous care he takes with his drawing.

"Nyx, do you see how the colors of its wings can tell us about its environment?" you ask as you were pointing to the delicate patterns that mirror the blooms around you.

"Yes!" he exclaims. His eyes lighting up with understanding. "It’s like camouflage, right? They blend in to stay safe from predators!"

"Exactly," you reply. Your heart swelling with pride at his quick grasp of the concepts.

The lesson shifts seamlessly from science to history as you guide Nyx through the stories of the Night Court. Each tale woven into the landmarks visible from your spot in the garden. Nyx listens, rapt, as you tell him about the ancient fae who once walked these paths. The battles they fought and the peace that now thrives in their stead.

As the morning progresses Nyx's natural curiosity leads him to a question that makes you pause. His small voice tinged with genuine wonder. "Why don't you have wings like my mom, dad, Uncle Cassian and Uncle Az? Like that pretty butterfly?" he asks. His head tilting as he regards you thoughtfully.

You smile softly, touched by his innocent inquiry. "Well, not all fae have wings, Nyx. Just like not all flowers have thorns," you explain using an analogy you know he'll understand. "Each of us is unique with different abilities and gifts. It’s what makes us all special in our own way."

Nyx nods considering this. "I think it’s cool you don’t need wings to fly. You have books and stories that can take you anywhere," he decides with a wise look crossing his features that makes you chuckle.

"That’s a wonderful way to put it, Nyx. And remember, we all have our own ways of soaring," you say ruffling his hair affectionately.

As you begin to pack up the day's learning materials you lean closer to Nyx with a conspiratorial whisper. "Tomorrow, we’re going to do something special. We'll join a class with other children your age. You’ll get to play and learn together with them," you tell him watching his face light up with sheer delight.

"Really? I'll have friends to play with?" His voice is filled with excitement. His earlier thoughts about wings forgotten in the anticipation of meeting new friends.

"Absolutely," you assure him sharing in his excitement. "It’ll be a lot of fun and you’ll make lots of new friends."

Nyx's eyes sparkle with anticipation as he begins to imagine the possibilities. "I'm going to tell mom and dad all about it tonight!" he exclaims already planning out his evening conversation. "And I’ll tell Uncle Az too. He likes hearing about my adventures."

The mention of Azriel, whom you've only heard about through Nyx’s enthusiastic stories, adds an interesting layer to your perception of the mysterious figure. "That sounds like a great idea," you respond, amused, and intrigued by Nyx’s affectionate mention of his uncle. "It seems Uncle Az is quite the hero in your stories."

"Yeah! He’s really cool! He can disappear like a shadow and is always on secret missions," Nyx says. His admiration for Azriel evident in his wide eyes and animated gestures.

The day ends with Nyx bouncing along the path back to you classroom chatting animatedly about all the things he hopes to do with the other children. His excitement about sharing his upcoming school day with his family, especially with his beloved Uncle Az, whom you've yet to meet but feel like you already know through Nyx's tales, fills the air with joy.

Your heart warms at his enthusiasm knowing that these new experiences are exactly what he needs. As Nyx sketches another flower with his small hand moving confidently you know these moments of joy and anticipation are as precious to him as they are to you, nurturing not just a young prince’s mind but also his spirit. The connections he's building with his family, with you, and soon with his peers are shaping him into a thoughtful, well-rounded individual, ready to explore the world with confidence and curiosity.

As the sun begins to dip below the horizon casting a warm, golden light through the windows of your classroom the day's adventures wind down to a quieter, more reflective pace. You sit in a cozy corner of the room on a soft, plush cushioned area you've set up specifically for reading. Nyx nestles beside you as his energy from earlier now softened into the gentle tiredness of a day well spent. In your hands a beautifully illustrated book about the legends of Prythian opens to a page where the heroic deeds of ancient warriors are painted in vivid colors.

As you read aloud, your voice smooth and soothing, Nyx's eyelids begin to flutter gently. You notice his weary smile as he listens. The adventures of the day transforming into the adventures in the pages. Gently, almost instinctively, you begin to caress his hair. Smoothing it back from his forehead in a tender, rhythmic motion. It's a peaceful scene, the kind of simple, heartfelt moment that often goes unnoticed in the bustling life of the Night Court.

Unknown to you his Uncle Azriel stands at the doorway having arrived to pick up Nyx. He pauses there, a silent observer, taken aback by the tranquility and warmth of the tableau before him. His task had been simple. He was to retrieve Nyx and bring him home but the scene he encounters tugs at something deep within him. A longing for such unguarded peace.

Azriel watches as Nyx's breathing deepens, the sweet child drifting closer to sleep with each gentle brush of your hand. Your care for Nyx, so natural and affectionate, strikes a chord in Azriel. He's seen many facets of life. So many forms of relationships and bonds but the simplicity and purity of this moment resonate with him profoundly.

He remains there at the threshold hesitant to interrupt the moment. He was captivated by the gentleness of your interactions with Nyx. The world he usually inhabits—one of shadows and secrets—feels miles away from the soft warmth of this sunlit room. In this pause Azriel realizes that his task isn't just about escorting Nyx. It's about respecting and appreciating the sacred, everyday magic that people like you bring into Nyx's life.

Eventually though the story comes to an unfortunate end, and you close the book before looking down at Nyx to see him fully asleep. A contented expression on his young face. As you carefully consider how to wake him Azriel finally clears his throat softly announcing his presence.

You look up, startled slightly, your eyes meeting his for the first time. There's a moment of mutual acknowledgment. A silent appreciation for the scene he's just witnessed. An understanding that while your worlds may be different the care you show to Nyx bridges them beautifully. Azriel steps into the room. His movements gentle as he did not want to disturb the serene atmosphere you've created.

"Thank you for taking such good care of him," Azriel says quietly. His voice carrying a warmth that surprises even him. "He obviously treasures these moments with you."

"You're welcome. It's truly a pleasure teaching him," you reply with a warm smile. Your eyes reflecting genuine affection for Nyx.

As you gently wake Nyx his eyes flutter open gradually clearing as they adjust to the presence of another in the room. When he spots Azriel standing quietly by the door a bright, sleepy smile spreads across his face. He quickly scrambles to his feet, excitement replacing any remnants of sleepiness.

"Uncle Az!" Nyx exclaims. His voice filled with delight as he runs into Azriel's open arms. Azriel catches him effortlessly before lifting him into a warm hug. They share a moment, uncle and nephew reunited, their easy laughter filling the room. You grin recognizing him as the infamous Azriel in Nyx’s life.

Then as if struck by a sudden realization Nyx turns back towards you with a look of proud excitement lighting up his features. With a firm grip on Azriel's hand he pulls him closer to you and announces, "This is Miss Y/N, my favorite teacher ever!" His voice carries through the room filled with genuine admiration and joy.

Azriel's gaze shifts to you. A slight tension beneath his calm demeanor as he processes Nyx's enthusiastic introduction. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he says, his voice steady but softer than usual, a subtle undercurrent of nervousness mingling with his words.

You smile warmly, extending your hand in greeting. "I've heard a lot about you, Azriel. Nyx tells me you're quite the hero," you say. Your tone light and inviting.

Azriel takes your hand and for a moment his usual composure falters under your gaze. He's momentarily taken aback not just by the warmth of your smile but by the unexpected impact of your presence. She's beautiful, he thinks, and kind... The realization that he's slightly awestruck surprises him. He finds himself momentarily lost for words.

"And I've heard you've been learning about heroes in your lessons with Nyx," he manages to say his voice carrying a hint of warmth that rarely surfaces. Nyx obviously pleased with the exchange claps his hands excitedly.

"Can we all walk back home together?" Nyx asks looking up at both of you with hopeful, bright eyes, “Please!” He adds in for good measure as if you weren’t going to immediately say yes to him.

"Of course, Nyx," Azriel responds after looking to you for confirmation.

You nod, gathering your belongings, and the three of you step out into the cool evening of Velaris. As you walk Nyx fills the air with chatter about his day seamlessly weaving together his two worlds with tales of butterflies and ancient warriors. Azriel listens with a soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His initial nervousness easing as he's drawn into the simple joy of the moment. His thoughts linger on you, intrigued, and unexpectedly moved by the genuine connection forming between you, Nyx, and himself. A beautiful end to an enriching day.

As the three of you begin your walk back through the twilight streets of Velaris the usual calm that Azriel embodies seems to waver slightly. He is typically a figure of stoic composure, his presence both commanding and elusive shadowed by the mysteries of his duties as the Spymaster. However, today, as he walks beside you, something is distinctly different.

Azriel's steps are measured. His usual fluid grace tempered by a hint of uncertainty. His glances towards you are quick, almost cautious, as if he's trying to decipher an unfamiliar script. The conversation flows easily around Nyx's enthusiastic chatter about his day but each time you turn your attention directly to Azriel a subtle tension flickers across his features.

"You really have a wonderful way with Nyx," you say hoping to bridge the gap with kindness. "He's always so excited to share what he's learned with you."

Azriel nods. A slight flush visible beneath the dusky hue of his skin. "Thank you," he murmurs as his voice is softer than usual. "It's... it's good to see him so happy. You do a lot for him."

The simplicity of your interactions, the easy smiles and gentle teasing you offer to Nyx, resonate with Azriel in a way that is both heartening and unnerving. He's unaccustomed to feeling this way—unsettled yet drawn in, eager yet shy. His hands though normally steady and sure whether wielding a weapon or a shadow clench slightly at his sides betraying his internal struggle.

As Nyx runs ahead a little, bursting with energy as he recounts another part of his day, Azriel takes a moment to compose himself. He glances at you again. This time holding your gaze a moment longer than before. The vulnerability rarely seen by others is palpable now as it was a quiet admission of his nervousness.

"I'm... not usually this unsure," Azriel confesses quietly almost to himself. "But there's something about these moments…. seeing Nyx so at ease with you. It's more comforting than I anticipated."

Your response is a gentle smile, one that acknowledges his admission without pressing further. It's a smile that seems to say you understand that the quiet spaces between words can be filled with kindness, not just silence.

The rest of the walk continues with a softer ease. A budding respect forming amidst the shared glances and the fading light of day. Azriel's initial nervousness slowly ebbs away instead replaced by a quiet appreciation for the unexpected warmth this evening has brought into his usually guarded world.

As the three of you approach the grandeur of the House of Wind, the towering structure casts long shadows over the cobblestone paths. It’s presence as awe-inspiring as it is imposing. Nyx who was still bubbling with energy despite the day's adventures, rushes ahead. Clearly he was eager to recount his tales to Feyre and Rhysand. You pause at the entrance. The vast doors open as if welcoming back its prince.

"It's been a wonderful day, Nyx," you say, giving him a soft hug. "Don't forget to draw that butterfly we talked about!"

"I won't, Miss Y/N!" Nyx promises. His voice echoing slightly in the vast entryway. He turns and dashes inside as his laughter lingered in the air.

You turn to Azriel with a smile gracing your lips. "Thank you for letting me share part of your evening. I should head back home now."

Azriel’s expression shifts. Concern etching his features. "It’s getting late," he observes while glancing at the skies, now painted with the deep blues and purples of dusk. "Please, allow me to walk you back to your home. The streets can be less than forgiving at this hour."

You pause appreciating his concern but ready to reassure him of your safety. "That’s very kind of you, Azriel, but it’s no worry. I know these streets well," you say as you turned to make your way down the path.

Before you can take more than a few steps a subtle but firm presence stops you. Looking down you see one of Azriel’s shadows has stretched out across the path in front of you almost playfully barring your way. It's a gentle unspoken plea that catches you by surprise echoing Azriel’s silent wish for you not to go alone.

Azriel takes a step forward. His gaze earnest. "I would truly feel better if I could ensure your safe return. Please," he adds. A rare hint of vulnerability in his voice that you hadn't expected.

Seeing the genuine concern in his eyes and touched by his quiet insistence you nod to him with a smile spreading across your face. "Alright, Azriel, if it means that much to you then I’d welcome the company," you agree. The warmth in your tone matching the softness in his eyes.

"Thank you," he replies visibly relieved. He quickly steps inside to ensure Nyx is settled and returns to you with a more relaxed demeanor ready to accompany you.

As you and Azriel begin the walk back to your home the streets of Velaris are bathed in the gentle glow of the stars and softly lit lanterns casting an enchanting light over the cobblestones. The atmosphere lends a serene backdrop to the conversation that begins to unfold between you.

"You know, Nyx speaks so highly of you," you start by breaking the initial silence with a warm tone. "He's always so excited after spending time with you. You must have some exciting tales from your duties."

Azriel chuckles softly. A sound so serene that it seems to dance in the night air. "Nyx has a way of making everything sound more thrilling than it might actually be. But yes, there are times when my duties hold some... intrigue." He pause, as if weighing what to share. "Mostly, I'm just ensuring that the court and our lands are safe. It's not always as adventurous as Nyx might depict."

"And what about when you're not cloaked in shadows and mystery?" you ask genuinely curious about the man beside you beyond his role as the Spymaster.

A hint of surprise flickers across Azriel's face. Surprised yet pleased by the interest you’re showing in him. "I enjoy solitude, usually. Reading, training... Though I have a fondness for sword making. It’s a craft that requires precision and patience much like my usual work but with a more tangible, creative result."

"Sword making? That’s fascinating," you remark smiling at the thought. "It must be rewarding to create something so intricate and vital."

"It is," he agrees. His voice softening ever so slightly. "And what about you? What do you enjoy doing in your free time?"

You nod before reflecting on your simple pleasures. "I love hiking and just watching nature. There’s something peaceful about observing the natural world. Just seeing how it exists so beautifully without any need for interference."

The conversation flows naturally from there. The earlier apprehension melting into a mutual appreciation for each other’s hobbies and life outside of official duties. As you talk Azriel’s steps seem to synchronize with yours. His presence an incredibly comforting shadow by your side.

When you finally reach your doorstep the city around you has quieted even further. The only sounds being the distant murmur of the Night Court's nightlife and the gentle rustling of leaves. Azriel pauses, standing just a bit closer than before. His usually guarded demeanor dimmed under the starlight.

"Thank you for allowing me to walk you home," he says. His voice sincere and gentle as if reflecting the calmness of the evening.

"It was my pleasure," you respond, finding yourself reluctant to end the conversation. "I enjoyed our talk, Azriel. It’s nice to see the person behind the shadows."

He smiles. A true smile that reaches his eyes making them sparkle with a rare lightness. "I did as well. More than I expected. Perhaps we could do this again, maybe take a hike together?"

"I’d like that," you agree. Your heart light with the promise of future conversations, of shared paths both literal and metaphorical.

"Good night, Miss Y/N. Take care," Azriel says as he steps back ready to meld back into the shadows from which he came.

"Good night, Azriel. And thank you… for everything tonight," you call after him. A smile still playing on your lips as you watch him disappear into the night. The connection between you both stronger and sweeter for the shared walk under Velaris’ starlit sky.

In the days that follow Azriel finds himself inventing reasons to visit your classroom or accompany Nyx to his lessons more often than strictly necessary. Each visit, purportedly to check on Nyx’s educational progress or to discuss scheduling with you becomes a cherished opportunity for him to engage in brief, yet meaningful conversations with you.

Each encounter, ostensibly casual, subtly deepens his affection and admiration for you. He begins to notice the small details: the way your eyes light up when discussing a new teaching method, the gentle patience with which you guide Nyx through difficult lessons, and the enthusiasm that bubbles up when you talk about your nature hikes. Azriel who was typically reserved and composed finds himself drawn into your world of vibrant enthusiasm and heartfelt dedication.

One afternoon as Azriel stands somewhat hidden by the doorway of your classroom just like he did that first day he met you observes a particularly touching scene. Nyx, having mastered a particularly tricky spell, turns to you with a triumphant grin. You laugh, your joy as vivid as the sparkle in Nyx's eyes. He swears your laughter seems to light up the room.

Watching this Azriel feels a warmth spread through him. A warmth that has little to do with the sun filtering in through the windows. It’s in this simple, unguarded moment that he realizes his feelings for you have deepened beyond mere admiration. He's not just falling for your kindness towards Nyx but also for the genuine spirit and infectious joy you bring into every interaction.

As he steps away from the doorway with a thoughtful smile playing on his lips Azriel knows that what he feels is something profound and undeniable. Your spirit which was so vibrant and full of life calls to him in a way that no one else ever has. And as he walks away with his shadows trailing behind him he’s certain of one thing. He wants to explore where this connection might lead not just for Nyx's sake but for his own heart’s as well.

After ensuring that Nyx was safely back at the House of Wind you begin to make your way back towards your home. The day's light is waning casting long shadows that stretch across the cobblestone streets of Velaris, adding a mystical allure to the city’s evening charm.

As you step forward, the sound of your footsteps is a soft echo in the quieting city. You're lost in thought pondering the pleasant interaction with Nyx and looking forward to the solitude of your evening walk home. However, before you can get far you hear Azriel’s voice calling out from behind you.

“Wait, please!” His tone carries a blend of urgency and hesitation that halt’s you in your tracks.

You turn around surprised to see him approaching quickly. His usually composed demeanor replaced by a slight breathlessness. The shadows that always linger around him seem to pulse in sync with the heightened beat of his heart.

Azriel catches up to you. His expression earnest. “I just wanted to ask properly,” he starts, his voice steadying as he meets your gaze. “Would you join me for a hike this evening? There’s a trail not far from here that’s especially beautiful in the evening light. I think you’d really enjoy the views, and...” He pauses before taking a breath reassuring himself, “I would really enjoy the company.”

Your smile deepens, touched by his sincerity and the vulnerable way he presents his request. The softening of his features and the hopeful look in his eyes paint a picture of a man stepping beyond the shadows that define him.

“I would love to, Azriel,” you reply warmly. Your voice filled with genuine excitement. “It sounds like a perfect way to end the day.”

Relief washes over Azriel’s face. His usual stoic mask giving way to a rare, genuine smile. “Thank you,” he says as if a weight was lifting from his shoulders. “Shall we meet at the edge of the city in half an hour?”

“That sounds wonderful,” you agree already anticipating the quiet beauty of the trail and the shared moments ahead.

As you both part ways to prepare for the evening hike the anticipation of the upcoming adventure brings a new spring to your step. Azriel turns back once more watching you walk away, his heart lighter. He realizes just how much he’s looking forward to exploring not only the natural wonders of Velaris but also the potential of a new and blossoming relationship with you. The thought brings that rare and hopeful smile to his lips. One that he carries with him as he disappears into the shadows to ready himself for the evening.

ACOTAR Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @lilah-asteria

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! I'm back with a (kinda late) spooky au! This is the monster-themed au that won the last poll, so here we go!

In this au, set in season 4 (post-Aithusa), where, after feeling Aithusa call to him from within her egg, Merlin could now sense dragon eggs.

Since dragons mated every year and laid multiple eggs each time, and there were only so many dragonlords around to hatch them, there were hundreds of dragon eggs hidden around Albion, waiting for a dragonlord to get close enough for them to call out to, yearning for the world outside of their shells. And since the dragonlords were nearly wiped out in the purge, those hundreds of eggs were still hidden, still waiting for a dragonlord to call them into life.

And now that Merlin can recognize their calls and knows how to call them forth them their eggs, he collects and hatches as many dragon eggs as he can, determined to bring the magical creatures back to their former glory.

And this goes fairly smoothly, except for one issue: he needs a place to hide all of them. They're all still so young, despite growing rather quickly, and the world is still hostile towards dragons, not seeing them as the majestic creatures of wonder that they are.

So, Merlin finds a hidden place for all of them to nest: an underground cave system beneath a mountain. It was near enough to Camelot that he could visit frequently, and the tunnels were large enough for all of them to have their own space, even as the number of baby dragons grew from five, to ten, to twenty, to well over seventy baby dragons took refuge inside the caves.

Aithusa was delighted by each new baby sibling Merlin brought to her in the caves, and she took care of them as best she could. (Kilgharrah, the rubbish babysitter, was not invited to the nests, as he would surely fill the babies' heads with all sort of nonsense about hating humans.)

And so, Merlin kept this up for well over a year, hatching dragons and bringing them to the nests, where he would be bombarded by baby dragons looking to cuddle with their egg-father. He loved spending time with all of them, but he worried about them too. What would happen when grew too large for the caves? Where would they go? Would they be safe?

But as the young dragons grew, they were content to stay in their hidden sanctuary, keeping each other company and eagerly awaiting their egg-father's sporadic visits. They especially enjoyed his stories of Camelot and his golden king. They loved to imagine the man their father was describing, a man with gold for hair and jewels for eyes. He must be the greatest treasure in all the lands! It was no wonder their great and powerful dragonlord kept him safe in his hoard!

And it went on like this for several years, up until Morgana heard rumors of strange growls and reports of terrible beasts coming from the caves underneath the White Mountains. Upon hearing these rumors and sensing with her magic that were was a small army of powerful magical beasts within the caves, she came up with the brilliant plan of luring Arthur, Merlin, and the knights into these tunnels and trapping them there. Those beasts, whatever they were, would surely make quick work of all of them!

Her plan, of course, succeeds. After all, she knew that using a knight as bait would lure all of them into the caves, and then using her magic to collapse all of the exits was simple work. As she walked away from the mountain, she cackled with furious glee. At long last, all of her enemies were doomed! Camelot was hers for the taking!

Meanwhile, underneath the mountain, Arthur, Merlin, and the knights were all trapped. While they hadn't run into any of the monsters Morgana had mentioned, they could hear growls echoing off of the stone walls, heralding their doom getting closer and closer.

(The growling, translated from dragontongue: Papa! Papa! Papa's back!)

As the sounds of the ferocious growling grew closer and closer, they could see the shadows of the beasts approaching on the walls of the cave. They were enormous, with wings and claws! Arthur and the knights all drew their swords, ready to fight to the end against a mob of these horrid beasts.

As the monsters came into view, the shocked gasp came from the group. Before them was an impossible sight, dozens of dragons, each as long as two men and as tall as Percival!

(Merlin gasped at the sight because his babies had suddenly hit growth spurts! They were so much bigger than the last time he saw them!)

Arthur and all his knights braced themselves for what would be a devastating attack from the monsters, when suddenly, to their horror, Merlin ran out in front of them!

"Merlin! This is no time for your sacrificial idiocy! Get back behind us!"

But Merlin didn't even glance back at them, h simply ran forwards towards the beasts!

Arthur gave out a heart-wrenching cry as the monsters pounced on his friend, their razor-sharp claws tearing through his skin and their horrid jaws opening to bite at his flesh.

(Merlin, meanwhile, was being cuddled and playfully licked by his dragons, who took great care to keep their claws and teeth away from their egg-father's soft human skin.)

With a savage and anguished war cry, Arthur ran forward, sword in hand, praying that Merlin was still in one piece. Jolted out of their horror by Arthur's cry, the other knights follow, ready to slay these monsters and save Merlin from their grasp!

The dragons, who recognize Arthur from Merlin's descriptions of him, dart forward, excited to finally meet the golden king that their lord talks so much about! The golden king was as radiant as their lord said he was, and he even gave a play roar and charged at them! He wanted to play and be their friend!

His strange gray hand-fang stung a little bit when it hit their scales, but it hurt no more than their siblings' claws when they were play-fighting together.

The young dragons had a great time playing with all their new friends, who gave play roars and hit them with those strange gray fangs. Their new friends were so fast too, not letting the dragons hit them easily.

This went on for a while, until Aithusa become too excited by all of the play fighting and accidentally knocked the golden king down too hard, knocking the air out of him.

Aithusa whined apologetically as she walked over to him, opening her mouth so that she could breath her healing breath on him, when he suddenly grabbed his grey-fang and aimed it at her open mouth, ready to strike. Aithusa flinched back in surprise, but the golden king's movement was halted by a call from her lord.

"STOP!"

Everyone, knights and dragons alike, froze at the order, even though the command had not been given in dragontongue. Aithusa whined in apology again. She hadn't meant to hurt her lord's king! She had just forgotten he was less sturdy than her siblings!

"Merlin! You're alright! Come quickly, we must leave before these beasts... why is that dragon nuzzling you like an overgrown housecat?"

Merlin gave Arthur his most innocent look, but it wasn't very convincing. Sighing, Merlin wrapped his arms around Aithusa's neck and hugged her, which caused her to start purring with joy, much to the knights' shock.

"Well, you see, I kinda... found a dragon egg out in the woods one day? And I couldn't just leave it all by itself, anything could have happened to it, so I put it somewhere safe! And then, it hatched! And I couldn't just leave the poor baby to fend for herself, so I brought her here, where I thought she'd be safe and not bother anyone. But then I couldn't just leave her alone here, so I came back to visit her and bring her food!

And then, I started finding more dragon eggs and brought all of them here and took care of them!"

Merlin finished his rushed explanation with a smile, hoping that Arthur would just buy it and not ask any questions, like how Merlin found any dragon eggs in the first place. By the end of his explanation, Arthur had gone from alarmed to completely exasperated.

"So what you mean to tell me, Merlin, is that you found dragon eggs, and, instead of killing them before they could become threats, chose to raise them like they were stray kittens instead?"

Arthur's tone indicated that yes, he had bought Merlin's lie, and yes, he also thought Merlin was a much bigger idiot than he did before.

Merlin just nodded, praying to anyone that would listen that none of the knights would possess any critical thinking skills and start poking holes in Merlin's hastily made-up story.

Merlin's fears were alleviated when Gwaine began laughing hysterically, walked fearlessly between the dragons, and clasped a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"My friend, I knew you were a special kind of crazy for putting up with Arthur all these years, but this! This beats any insane stunt you've done before! You've just tamed dragons, you madman! Hell, you've got them all wrapped around your finger by the looks of it!"

Gwaine, amazed and almost giddy, looked around at the dragons, who were contently cuddling up around Merlin now, tired from all of the play fighting.

Merlin rubbed the back of his neck, nervous and slightly embarrassed at all of the attention. The other knights looked on in wonder as Merlin told the dragons to go off the sleep in the nest, and they all listened. He really had tamed them!

Merlin turned and gave Arthur, who was still looked at Merlin with frustration and disbelief, a nervous smile.

"So, uh, it's probably a bit late to be asking this, but do you think I can keep them in Camelot?"

And that's all for now! I had a lot of fun writing about Merlin army of baby dragons! Please let me know if you'd like a continuation of this!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings!

[teenytinyecho]

Yandere! Cheerleader and Football Player

Pairing: OC x GN! Reader x OC

Warnings: none

A/N: first post! There will be more in depth post describing both of these two so stay tune!

‌You, however, you don't really know where you are on the food chain. You're not the lowest nor the highest, so you're kinda confused. It didn't really bother you since people seemed to not notice you that much. You don't really have anyone close to you in school, maybe a few acquaintances but no one close you can call as a friend.

Jake and Lana, king and queen of Silver Oak Highschool. Most popular, most loved (debatable) and the most well known students in your school. Everyone knows them, everyone wants to be with them or be them. Whatever it is, they're on the top of the food chain

‌You joined the schools news club because you really didn't know what else to do, plus the students there are friendly and chill. Because of this you sometimes meet Jake and Lana to do interviews for the schools newspaper. They're the "It Couple" but you have to admit they did always lead the schools football and cheerleading team to victory.

‌Lana was a typical mean girl, like Regina George oddly enough, but she is...nice to you? There's always a sharp smile on her face, hugging you tightly when you meet up for an interview like you're her best friend. She's always close when you're asking questions, her thigh touching yours or bumping her shoulder to yours. It was weird but you brushed it off quickly. She never bothered you enough so why get mad anyway?

‌Jake is a nice guy too, he's quiet and reserved but still smiles at you when you meet in passing. You don't really mind him honestly, but your other peers in the news club did say he's more stoic when members besides you do interviews with him.

‌After a few interviews, you noticed they're more trying to get closer to you. Offering to eat lunch together (you denied, not big on crowded tables), offering you a ride home (also denied because you have your own car), and the list goes on and on. Lana seems pouty before trying to persuade you again with more force. Jake accepts defeat after one try, but you did notice his smile was more tense as he drags Lana away.

‌Nonetheless, you're life was mundane to say the least. Not aware that the couple was infatuated with you for a long time and is trying to pursue you "normally" as they would say.

‌Lana was already attracted to you since middle school. Although you both never really talked so much, you did get grouped in for a project that made Lana loved you since the moment she saw you. You were so...boring, so mundane that in her life full of excitement she would say that you're more of a grounding territory for her.

‌Every time you interviewed her, she mindlessly listens as she observes your clothes, hair, and to the smallest details on your face. Both of you are so different yet she yearns to be with you, to hold you freely and be together.

‌She dated Jake because she did love him and she wants to share her love for you with Jake. So in the end, he got roped in too. Jake's obsession with you is more slow, he's more attentive and watching you day to day. He appreciates how you never really looked annoyed or put off by Lana (he knew she had a reputation) and just overall likes you in general.

‌Their tendencies differ from each other but they agree that they want to pursue you together. They want you to be with them. Both are filthy rich and they like to use it to their advantage (buying lunch, giving away small trinkets that you like).

‌Lana doesn't have as much patience as Jake does though. So the more you decline their attempts to woo you, the more annoyed and tense Lana becomes. She wants you to be with them before you all finished high school, but a small voice in her head is always reminding her to not scare you away. She doesn't want you to be scared of her or run away! And that's where Jake comes in.

‌He likes to hold Lana back if she tries anything that might ruin their chances. He likes to be with you as soon as possible but he knows they have to be more mindful of their surroundings. They have an image and reputation to uphold, and although he knows no one will believe if you tattle on them, he just wants to be blindly faithful of their image. The perfect pair, the king and queen of Silver Oak Highschool.

‌The more you try to deny them, the more aggressive their acts are. But so far, you had been a darling for them. Granted you're a bit awkward to their approach but you're not denying them outright. So they might have a chance in the future!

[rosemaze-reveries]

clinging to the only manor guest who makes you feel safe various idv charas + you (platonic)

for @ninacottoncandy

🦈✈️🧲🔗❤️‍🩹

Here are the reader's traits described in the original ask: You have grown really attached to them and won't let them go, following them like a lost duckling. They're the only one you act energetic around, while you're shy and scared around others. It's later revealed that you were neglected back home resulting in abandonment issues.

🦈 Leo

Leo sees something in you that he can't exactly pinpoint. Maybe you fill a loss that he's tucked into the crevasses of his memory. Maybe you represent a second chance at one of his lingering regrets. Whatever it is, he swears that no harm will come to you as long as he's around.

He sneaks you the universal passcode to the arms factory's exit gates, with instructions written in his messy scrawl: "Play the game. Do what they ask. Use for emergensy only." It's not the first time he's been punished for breaking the rules, but that's a trivial thing if it means protecting you.

Before your first game, he brings you a gift, a crude little thing that's obviously handmade. It's a miniature red-and-purple striped rocket chair made for dolls. You find it a little childish, but Leo attaches a story to it: "If bad guy catches you. 1, 2, 3, blast off. Trapped again."

That's a bit grim, but cute, you suppose. You're not sure why he gave it to you, though.

✈️ Charles

As a man of few words and a perpetual poker face, his fondness for you might not be that obvious. But he finds you terribly endearing. He doesn't mind having you in his shadow at all. It won't be long before he starts feeling very protective of you.

In an attempt to get closer to him, one day you ask to try out his jetpack. He's always tinkering with the thing, so he must have a lot to say about it, right? The moment you reach for it, something in Charles snaps, and with a panicked shout he knocks you off it before cradling his device tightly in his arms. With that look of abject terror in his eyes, one would think you were trying to murder his baby. You never thought it was even possible for him to raise his voice like that.

The truth is, he couldn't have cared less about the jetpack. He was worried about losing someone else to his faulty machine. The guilt for frightening you plagues him for weeks after. He dedicates the next few months to working on a device that stabilizes his hand tremors. Not for his own sake, but because he can't bear to disappoint you—he wants to build something safer for you to try, and needs a reliable hand to do it.

🧲 Norton

Finds it bothersome. He has an unspoken agreement with the rest of the manor to steer clear of each other, what’s not clicking for you? He doesn’t exactly radiate sunshine and rainbows. Why you got attached to him of all people is something he can’t wrap his head around.

He won’t go out of his way to talk to you, which you can consider a small mercy from him. If forced he’ll bluntly shut down the idea of being your “protector” or whatever role you’ve arbitrarily assigned to him. He’s not here to babysit anyone, especially not for free. Doesn’t matter what your story is.

It seems like the best way to win his favor is by giving him space. And start hoping he’ll warm up with time. With the manor's stretches of eternity in store for you, you can certainly spare the wait.

🔗 Ada & ❤️‍🩹 Emil

The first time you begin yearning for them remains clear in your memory. They're huddled together over the kitchen stove, morning sun filtering through the open window. Ada explains how to flip an omelette while Emil is paying more attention to her gentle hands than her technique. Once in a while their soft giggles rise above the sound of sizzling oil.

Watching them, suddenly you aren't at the manor anymore. You're in one of those big, bright two-story houses from the stories you read as a child, the ones with the perfect families and happy endings to every trouble that comes their way. Ada and Emil probably don't even realize how picture-perfect they look in this moment, how similar they are to the families you thought only existed once upon a time. Their love makes you jealous, but you crave it just as much.

Sharp as always, Ada is quick to notice you observing them. You fear a round of questioning but instead she says, "Good morning. Do you want something? How do you like your eggs?" and Emil pipes in a second later with "Onions okay?"

It's such a casual sentiment, but it takes you aback. Most manor guests aren't glowing examples of neighborly people, you've learned that the hard way. But your wishful thinking gets the better of you, so you play along. They bring out a plate of your breakfast and sit with you at the table. You remember thinking, even if they are tricking you and these eggs are poisoned and you never wake up again, it would be nice to go with this fairy tale family as your last memory. But you get to enjoy a delicious breakfast and the remaining hours of the day without issue.

The same thing happens the next morning, and the one after that.

Emil's prowess with the frying pan drastically improves as the days go by, and soon he starts waking up ahead of Ada to surprise her. Some days include you, with him gently nudging you out of bed, eager smile on his face as he teaches you all the cooking tricks Ada taught him. He also shows you a notepad he keeps, with lists titled: Ada favorites. Good food for a bad day. Restront menus (make at home). And a new addition: What (Y/N) likes.

[fanaticsnail]

my heart?! anon?! snail?! why must you hurt me so?!?!?! i demand (gently, in an easily refuse-able way) a fluffy bandaid!!!!

in the same style as kiss, marry, kill- have! 'realising you're in love', 'requited pining (they're idiots your honor)', and 'confession'! Either with the original three or... hmm -narrows eyes- kid, luffy, and torao.

the choice is yours (in multiple aspects) just ;w; owwww asldjkgljdfgklfd - @remisloves

How about some longing from Eustass Kid, Remi? I don't think I have it in me for the other two, but I could do some longing from Kid before I dive right back into writing his pollen.

Longing

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 880+

Synopsis: Eustass Kid doesn't know how to behave around you, especially now that he's developed feelings for you.

Themes: Kid x reader, pining, longing, yearning, wanting, desiring, dancing, drinking, Kid is gonna do something about it soon enough, platonic!heat x reader, confessions of love.

Notes: I broke my own heart by writing "Kiss, Marry, Kill" with a few of my favorites. I wanted to see what some fluffy longing would look like on Kid to make up for my sadess.

Sitting at the head of the lengthy dining table in the center of the tavern, the captain of the crew of the Victoria Punk sang and drank in full merriment. Another successful victory had come at the swift hand of his gaggle of misfits, and he was none other than the proudest of leaders. 

As the music began to swell, several members of the crew got up to dance with one another. Bubblegum took Quincy by the hand and twirled her into himself with lazy joy in his chuckle. Quincy began to sway her hips to the beat and tap her toes with a simple ease, all with a wide smile on her lips. 

The melody turned deeper, grungier, and with heavier beaten drums to match. Swinging hips and swirling arms, the crew began to dance a little closer. This normally would never bother him. As a captain, he enjoyed watching his crew build rapport with one another. 

What he didn't anticipate was the way his heart jumped up to his throat when he met his caramel-colored gaze with your body. Sultry grinding motions, and tugging his fire-breather by the belt at his hips towards the dance floor, your smile mirrored Heat’s as he laced his arms around your neck and gazed playfully in your eyes. 

It was no secret that Kid was fond of you as his counselor. You were his second closest confidant after Killer, and he adored you. He loved the way you kept him in line and level headed. He loved when you smiled, it lit up the whole room. He loved how caring and thoughtful you were with each of his crewmen, catering to their individual personalities and complex needs with ease and compassion. 

He loved you. 

As you released Heat’s belt and turned in his arms to lean your back into him, Kid almost jumped out of his chair and growled at Heat for raking his hands down your hips. Heat tugged you firmly back into his pelvis, you both rocked your hips from side to side and laughed at how easy it was to dance to the beat with one another.

Kid watched on in anguish, his face betraying his emotions and a forlorn expression plastered on his painted lips. As he turned back to his ale, he felt a firm hand clap on his shoulder. Turning to his first-mate, Killer tilted his mask to the side and angled his chin down. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Kid said, shrugging off his scythe-wielding best friend’s hand, “I know you're smirkin’ under there, big guy. Shut up.”

“I didn't say anything-,” Killer began, halting when his captain cut him off with a growling warning. 

“-It was a preemptive ‘shut up,’ Kil,” Kid barked, raising his tankard and taking a hefty gulp of his ale, “A ‘shut up,’ just in case you were gonna say somethin’ stupid.” He mumbled, turning his gaze back to where you and Heat were now facing one another. 

“And what stupid thing was I gonna say, Cap?” Killer’s smirk was felt in every word, much to Kid’s chagrin. The Red-Haired captain turned his shoulders and shifted his stance to flare directly in the beady holes in Killer’s blue and white mask. 

“I dunno, man. Somethin’ like: ‘You’re in love with the ship's counselor and you're too much of a coward to do anythin’ about it’,” Kid mocked in a voice not unlike the first-mate, which prompted Killer to give him a playful punch in the shoulder. 

“And what then?” Killer added, raising his ale beneath the edge of his mask and taking a quick, sneaky sip, “What would you say to this ‘something stupid’, hm?” Killer teased his captain, nudging him with his shoulder. 

Kid took a final gaze at you as you turned to meet your eyes with him. As soon as your orbs met with his, Eustass Kid felt a tug on his heartstrings in a way he could not describe. Something between wanting, craving, and longing. 

“I would say you’re right, Kil,” Kid spoke in a voice so low that Killer had to strain his ears to hear that weighty confession. “I’m in love with my counselor.” You shot him a soft wink before turning back to your dance partner, inviting Wire into your twirling and shimmying. 

“And what are you gonna do about it, Cap?” Killer urged him on, kicking his shin with his boot-heel and breaking Kid out of his momentary hypnosis. Kid pondered for a moment, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body as you urged Heat and Wire towards the bar and attempt to get the barkeeper’s attention. 

“I think I’m gonna get another drink at the bar,” he hummed, a slow grin tugging up at his cheeks as he noticed your casual gaze at him over your shoulder, “And then I’m gonna dance with my counselor some. Show 'em how it's really done.”

Captain Kid downed the last of his tankard before sliding the chair out from beneath him, kicking it back and uncaring as to where it landed. Stomping over towards the bar, he hooked his right arm around your waist and tugged you to press your left hip against his right before ordering another round for his crew with a grinning bark.

“Go get ‘em, Cap,” Killer whispered under his breath before bobbing his head to the new beat.

[urfriendlywriter]

"i wanna be closer to you" (ldr) prompts that i absolutely adore:

>°< the 6th, 8th, 9th, 11th and the 22nd??? CRYING

@urfriendlywriter | req by @seungspolaroid

hugs that feels like clench in your heart because you don't know when u might see them again

"don't let go yet" "i won't, sweetheart"

running into their arms after a long time ♡ and fitting right in :(

hoping it's them whenever the bell rings

just looking into each other's eyes while cuddling

always touching each other because they miss the feel of your skin against theirs :(((

holding hands until their fingertips reach out of grasp

yearning kisses when they press their palm against your cheek, slightly lifting you up. never getting enough and parting lips always wanting more (IM IN TEARS IM SO LONELY)

feeling heart wrench when you see their face while they leave

when they're excited to show you something they're proud of through face time.

when they break into tears as soon as they see you. and the hug after :(((

them having your picture as their wallpaper

"i--i have a day off tomorrow, do you want go somewhere?" "i just want to be in your arms, no matter where."

"go ahead, byee??" they cutely pout and mumble, "I'd rather not go and spend my time with you tho.."

remembering every detail about you.

eyes always on yours whenever you are together as if they're memorizing everything about you ㅜㅜ

"atleast we share the same moon. it's so pretty that it reminds me of you"

feeling empty without the other

"i missed you-doesn't feel good enough to express how much longing i feel for you."

many things will be left unsaid, because of the time difference, not being able to talk with them all the time

"is everything okay?" "yeah- *shuffles behind the camera* yeah i guess." "does it take. what? 3 hours on a flight? I'm coming tomorrow. i don't like this."

"sweetie, I'd run to you in a heartbeat if you'd ever need me."

"i do live 14 hours away from you, but my heart is always where you are."

a broken "come to please" with tears in the eyes, and the helpless other being able to do nothing about it

"you've grown a bit.." "it's only been a week, hun???"

[devilart2199-aibi]

I know I already said this prior to you, but I adore your Stunticon designs so much and feel an absolute rush of joy when I see you post art of any of them. I yearn for more information on your AU versions of them, and what happens to them all when they get to earth.

Where does Dead End go when he helps Breakdown, where do Motormaster, Drag Strip and Wildrider go after the split up in the team and how do they all handle it? They're all connected through the gestalt bond, which makes a gestalt closer than any other cybertronians, and how do they handle Motormaster hurting Breakdown, and then losing two of their own?

Does Motormaster ever regret what he did to Breakdown?

Thank you again! Hearing your interest in my AU really does make me so happy!! 🥺💕 So feel free to ask away! I've been pretty busy recently so I haven't had any time to work on the au sadly. But let's answer some questions now! With some drawings!! >:3

Also long post warning! !

"Where does Dead End go when he helps Breakdown?"

In short, undecided atm! But this is what happened if he was planning to leave with Breakdown:

Dead End and Breakdown agreed on a meeting spot a bit outside the Stunticons base. But when Breakdown doesn't show up for a long while, Dead End figured he got cold feet and began heading back to base only to get a coms transmission from MotorMaster telling him to meet up with Dragstrip and Wild Rider who are currently in pursuit of Breakdown!

Dead End would be wayyyy behind the others and only end up catching a glimpse of Breakdown and Knockout being apprehended by the Autobots, the other Stunticons long gone.

Dead End wasn't really sure what he would do now. It seemed like the others didn't know he wanted out like Breakdown. But what if they did? Does he risk it and go back? What was he going to do if the plan had gone smoothly even?

Well... he hadn't really got that far. He just knew he was tired, and Breakdown suggested an out. But joining another group of hot-headed 'Cons? Really?? He needed something different... maybe just... roaming around earth would be fun? It definitely has to be calmer than anything he's experienced the past few Megacycles.

For Dead End, since I wasn't sure if I would have him leave with Breakdown or not, I hadn't chose a story for him yet, though i did have a few ideas in mind.

"Where do MotorMaster, Dragstrip and Wild Rider go after the split up in the team and how do they handle it?"

They probably wouldn't go far, maybe just relocate their base. The remaining team would stick together for the most part. They're still the Stunticons, just... less.

MotorMaster would become hell-bent on getting the two back one way or another... or maybe even making them pay for such treachery to their team.

"How do they handle MotorMaster hurting Breakdown, and then losing two of their own?"

They were used to MM's intimidation techniques to get them back in line, but nothing like this. Sure he'd give 'em a good toss, smack or yelling at, but this, this was something else.

For Dragstrip he'd think to himself "What did Breakdown think would happen if he told MM him off and ditched the team? What a fool" as a kind of way to make sense of the situation. He'd definitely stand a bit further from MM than before.

As for Wild Rider, he loved a good fight. Heck he didn't mind killing a few bots! But never each other. He got an uneasy feeling from the whole thing.

For Dead End, they always remember him voicing his annoyance and tiredness with everything, but they never actually thought he'd do anything about it.

"Does MotorMaster ever regret what he did to Breakdown?"

Sadly not. He probably only regrets not being able to see Breakdown's desire to leave sooner. Not that he'd know what he'd do then.

And I think that was it? Thanks again for the questions and curiosity towards my au!! :3

[ilycove]

There's something about you that draws Nightowl in. You've only known each other for a few months, maybe half a year maximum, but he almost feels like he's known you before.

No, he knows it. Maybe in another life, with him being a prince and you being a knight, but he can tell. With every slip of the tongue- accidentally saying that he's known you forever, if forever can apply to six months.

He's staring at your icon on his screen, huffing out in annoyance when he can't bring himself to call you. You asked him to, and yet he feels nervous. Scared even.

A part of him thinks it's first date jitters. A louder part of him says that's not true because you've called one-on-one before, but you're also his best friend. Best friends don't go on dates. Right?

His stomach almost begins to hurt at that realization.

He brushes it off as him being up for so long and eating so little, of course his stomach will be a little upset. That's all it is. He bares a grin as his monitor rings. Once, twice, then he's greeted by your face. "Hellooooo cutie."

"Hi Owl," you hummed and Nightowl found himself almost melting at the sound of your voice, sleepy from the difference in timezones. "Okay, I wanted to call you because I have something so important to tell you. So serious. You're going to shit yourself."

You lean closer to your camera, and as if you were actually in front of him, he leans closer to you as well. His eyes crinkle slightly and you don't get why he's so happy just looking at your sleep tousled figure.

(It's as domestic as the two of you can get, for now.)

"So, I bought you something. Lego flowers. Roses."

"Why roses?" He laughs the slightest bit, trying and failing to keep the fondness out of his eyes. "Because they're so romantic and you're so in love with me?"

"Because they're your favorite." You roll your eyes the slightest bit, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh," Nightowl whispers, his eyes having the slightest sparkle to them, sparking up your mundane and dark night. "You remembered."

"Of course I did. You're my," A beat, shuffling from the other side of the monitor, then; "Best friend."

Right.

Nightowl can't lie, the thought of just being a best friend to you is almost disappointing, but at least the feelings mutual. You're his best friend and he's yours. In more ways than one.

A part of him thinks he's always been yours.

He beams at you and you let out a soft laugh. resting your cheek in the palm of your hand. "You're acting like a dog, tail wagging and shit, all because of some Legos?"

"Trust me, if I were your dog you would be covered in slobber by now." You laugh at him and you don't- you refuse to- pay attention to how he changes your words ever so slightly, a part of you likes it.

You're his. In more ways than one.

You sigh at the thought, knowing that thinking of your best friend like that is so weird. Friends don't act like this, they aren't so possessive and constantly yearning, ruining sleep schedules just to hear his voice at the break of dawn.

Right?

[twstjam]

Book 7 Spoilers ahead!!!

hmmmmm Lilia x Reader where you're a member of the Silver Owls but you have no loyalty to them so you betray them by secretly playing spy for the fae in exchange for peace, quiet, and safety if you help them win. The fae don't really trust you, especially Lilia, but he knows opportunity when he sees one. They just have to be careful about how much they trust you.

Because of the nature of your agreement you end up meeting up and exchanging letters with the Phantom General of the Briar fae a lot to relay information. At first it's just that and your meetings are all really just pure business, but then Lilia complains about Princess Malenoa and everyone pushing jobs onto him. This spurs you on to complain about Henrik and how all he does is order people around and lounge around all day. The two of you end up bonding over your demanding and tiring jobs and gradually grow closer each letter.

Aside from exchanging information, the two of you begin to exchange stories and tales and knowledge. You begin to know each other on different facets that no one else knows and confide in each other your deepest thoughts, fears, and insecurities. The two of you have a lot in common and understand each other so well that it just makes it so easy and natural and comfortable to be open like this. No one else have ever made either of you feel safe enough to share your most deepest secrets (not even Malenoa and Revan in Lilia's case. They're his best friends but they're also his superiors. There's just some things he can't talk about with them.) so it's so nice to finally find someone that does.

The two of you fall slowly, but you fall hard.

Neither of you admit this to each other of course. A war is no time for something as silly and trivial as love and romance and you both know that neither of you have time for a relationship. So you both pine and yearn in silence, either from your fortresses miles away from each other, or several feet apart on the rare occasions you meet up in person—so close yet still so far.

In one of your letters you relay to Lilia your worry that someone might be catching on. Lilia's heart twists in fear and his mind races with paranoid thoughts and possibilities. He doesn't show any concern in his response aside from acknowledging your worry, but he does tell you to be careful. He reasons that it would be unfortunate for the fae if their most valuable informant were to be discovered. (he activated tsundere mode to cope)

He sends the letter and goes about his duties. Days pass. Weeks. He realises during some off-time that he hasn't heard from you in a while. More time passes. No sign of a response from you.

Lilia says to himself that it's fine. It's nothing. It's no big deal. You're probably just occupied, or finally realised how dangerous it was to keep associating with the enemy. It's fine. The fae forces have managed before without your assistance. It's fine it's fine it's fine

he's not fine

(Part 2)