#i appreciate every little bit sent already

[inkedinshadows]

Bound by Secrets

Pairing: Azriel x Beron’s daughter!reader

Summary: When you get caught sneaking around the Hewn City, you end up in one of the dungeon cells to be interrogated by the infamous Spymaster. But things don't go exactly the way the General and the High Lord thought.

Warnings: mentions of sex, allusions to torture and scars

Word count: 6.4k

A/N: Okay sooo, I got a bit carried away with the first part and it came out longer than anticipated, with Az coming in at around word 1.7k. I know it’s a lot without him since it's his appreciation week, but the build-up is worth it (hopefully) and seeing how long the whole fic turned out to be, I hope you don't mind too much. There's still a lot of Azriel, I swear! (and I might have gone a little bit off-topic but shh it's fine). Anyway, happy @azrielappreciationweek everyone!

You knew being here was dangerous.

The Hewn City was not a place you could simply sneak into, and yet here you were, lurking in a corner of the throne room, waiting for the right moment to slip out and search for the treasury.

You had been sent there with a mission: find the Veritas Orb. How your father knew where it was, or what he needed it for, was not information you had been made privy to. But the High Lord of the Autumn Court had been clear: you were to steal the Orb as soon as possible. Knowing the kind of punishment he dealt when disappointed, you always did your best to comply. That left you with little time to prepare and, apparently, a huge number of problems.

Because just as you were about to make an unseen exit through the hallway you had previously selected, every single person in the crowd stiffened, and the chattering stopped abruptly, plunging the room into a silence so deep you could hear a pin drop.

As you turned to see what had happened, you realized everyone was staring at the entrance doors, just as they swung open. One look at the two tall figures slowly stalking in, and you knew you needed to get out before it was too late.

You blended into the shadows against the wall as the Spymaster and the General of the Army made their way to the dais on the other side of the hall. A smudge of red and gold was all you caught out of the corner of your eye when the Morrigan entered, just as you bolted down the hallway.

The High Lord and High Lady would be next. And if they caught you not only in their Court, but in their underground city as well, you'd be in serious trouble. You couldn't risk it. You needed to get out.

Yet you couldn't leave. Not without the Orb. Fear seized you for a split second at the mere thought of the pain you would suffer at your father's hands if you were to fail, and then you broke into a sprint—or as close to a sprint as you could manage with the high heels you had worn to blend in with the Hewn City inhabitants.

A thrum of power reached you despite the distance you had already put between yourself and the throne room, a clear sign of the High Lord and Lady’s arrival. You needed to hurry.

“Damn heels,” you muttered under your breath. You stopped long enough to take them off, gather them in your hands, and resume your run. At least your night-black dress was loose enough around the legs to allow you to move freely.

You had no idea where the treasury was. Your father didn't know, merely telling you the Orb was likely kept there—as if that helped. But you wouldn't consider where else it could be, instead choosing to focus on one thing at a time.

You wandered through the hallways, peering into every room you could find. Most of them were studies, sitting rooms, or smaller chambers for holding court. None of them what you were looking for.

Pushing a heavy wooden door open, you discovered a staircase that spiraled down. The basement. Or dungeons, you guessed, summoning a flame in your hand to light the steps as you began the descent. It made sense for the treasury to be on a lower level—harder to reach and easier to hide. That was where your father kept his most treasured possessions as well.

The stairs ended in a long hallway with many other tunnels branching off. You chose one out of instinct and kept going like that for a while, trying to remember every turn you took. The place was like a maze and there was nothing to, with nothing to distinguish the different paths. But eventually, your seemingly random choices paid off, and/because you found yourself in front of large, unguarded double doors. Upon closer inspection, you realized they were warded, hence the lack of actual guards.

With a smirk, you placed your palm on the knob and summoned more of your power. Your hand became a bright shade of orange, and a thin circle of fire spread from it, growing over the surface of the doors until it burned the spell protecting them. A little trick your oldest brother had taught you years ago.

Pulling your hand away, it returned to its normal color as you shoved the door open and walked inside.

Piles of gold lined the walls, jewels and weapons displayed in glass cabinets, and everywhere you turned, something shiny caught your eye. You delved deeper into the room, discovering beautiful pieces of artwork scattered around, but you couldn’t let them distract you from your task. You began searching the place instead, opening boxes and trunks, anything you could find, but there were no signs of the Veritas. The more you looked, the clearer it became.

The Orb wasn't there.

A frustrated sigh escaped you, and you stifled a groan as you made your way back to the tunnels, picking up the heels you had left by the door.

There had to be another room where more treasure was kept. You just had to find it. You were so sure it would be somewhere nearby that you made a stupid mistake: you didn’t count your turns, didn’t memorize when and where you had gone left or right or straight.

Maybe you should have asked for help before coming here. You had considered it, but you didn't want to endanger more people than necessary—or, even worse, have the truth discovered—and you honestly had thought you could do this alone.

You were wrong, and now you were lost. Like a damn fool.

Too caught up in your worries and rising anxiety, you did not hear the approaching steps. As you turned around the corner, you bumped into a tall, muscular body. A strong hand gripped your arm to keep you from losing balance, and the flame still flickering around your hand went out.

Now only the low gloom of the torches several feet down the tunnel illuminated the darkness.

“There you are.”

You didn’t recognize that deep, almost rough voice, but your heart jumped in your throat at sight of the leathery wings and the black scaled armor adorned with seven crimson Siphons.

You already knew who you were facing when you looked up and met the wary gaze of the General of the Night Court armies, his face half-hidden in the dark.

“There I am?” you repeated, putting on a sweet smile that didn’t reflect your internal turmoil. “Were you looking for me, General?”

His eyes narrowed as he took in your bare feet and the heels you still held in your hand. “What are you doing down here?”

You couldn’t tell if he meant down here in the Hewn City or in the tunnels below the palace. What if he knew the truth? What if he knew who you were? It could have given you a way out, it could have—

But Cassian’s grip on your arm tightened at your silence. “Answer me,” he growled. “We know someone broke into the treasury. And I know it was you.”

You shivered at his tone, at the fear that began to settle inside you, knowing you had been caught. As you tried to find a way out, you heard the words coming out of your mouth as if they were someone else’s: feigned shock at the news, deep confusion at the accusation, refined politeness when you addressed him. Hopefully, it was enough to let you off the hook.

“Why, if I may ask, would you think that was me, General?”

He didn’t seem impressed by your display of innocence. “There are very few redheads in the Hewn City, and none with fire powers. You’re from Autumn.”

Well, shit. You were so used to seeing red-haired Fae in the Autumn Court that you hadn't considered how recognizable your hair—or your powers, for that matter—could be outside of your home.

“I…”

You didn’t know what to say. You had red hair. You were suspiciously wandering in the tunnels. You had broken into the treasury using your fire. How could you find an excuse for all of that?

Your hesitation was confirmation enough for the General. His grip on your arm became almost painful. “Who are you? What were you looking for in the treasury?”

Maybe telling him the truth would help. If you revealed that you were in the Hewn City because you had no other choice, that you were not only Beron’s secret daughter but also his spy, his undercover agent, would he believe you? And if he did, would that make things better or worse for you?

Again, you thought about it for too long.

Cassian’s eyes narrowed even more. “You’re coming with me,” he ordered, nudging you along. “And you will talk, one way or another.”

You didn’t like where this was going. You didn’t like it one bit.

You could burn him, you supposed. Use your fire on him to create a distraction and run away. But you knew what kind of pain it caused, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt someone that way, not even him. And even if you did, where could you run? You didn’t know the place, didn't know where the hallways led or where the hiding spots were. But Cassian did. You wouldn’t get far before he found you.

You let the General lead you even deeper into the dungeons, following him without a struggle, even as the cold air bit at your skin and your gut churned in fear.

After a few minutes, you were escorted inside a small cell. There was nothing but a wooden chair in the middle of the space, right next to a grate on the floor from which hisses and growls rose up. You decided you didn’t want to know what was on the other side.

Cassian took your shoes, placing them next to the door as he gestured for you to sit. You obeyed silently and took a seat, waiting for the handcuffs, for the restraint, for the questions to start.

None of it came.

You just sat there, the General watching you intently from his spot against the wall, his stance relaxed yet alert in case you tried something. He said not a word.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before the door opened again and another male walked in. He was Illyrian too, a sword similar to Cassian’s was strapped to his back, and he wore the same armor. But his Siphons were a shade of cobalt blue, his black hair cut short, and he was surrounded by swirling shadows.

Your breath caught at the sight of the Spymaster.

Azriel’s eyes widened ever so slightly as they settled on you, his shadows frozen around his shoulders. He stood there, wings tucked tightly in, staring at you as if he could see right through your façade.

“Where is Rhys?”

The Spymaster didn’t tear his gaze away from you even as he answered. “He couldn’t leave.” His voice, cold as ice, sent a shiver down your spine. “This is the intruder?”

You held your head up high, reigning in your emotions. You wouldn’t let him intimidate you. You refused to. No matter the stories you had heard about the feared Shadowsinger of the Night Court, you wouldn’t cower. Not before him. You had suffered enough at the hands of your father to know how to deal with fear and pain.

“I found her wandering in the tunnels,” Cassian answered. “Not far from the treasury, hand wreathed in flames. She refused to say anything.”

The Spymaster assessed you, hazel eyes scanning you from head to toe. “Well, that’s about to change.” His hand lingered dangerously close to the black-hilted knife strapped to his muscular thigh.

Your brother's words echoed in your mind. “Tell him what he wants to hear.” “If you fight him, you'll only make it worse.” “Think of something nice, hold on to it, and it'll be over soon enough.” “Behave like the pliant little female he expects you to be.”

If Eris's precious advice had always worked with your father and his particular inclination for painful punishments, then maybe it would work now as well.

Azriel's gaze didn't falter as he stalked toward you, the dagger now clutched in his scarred fingers. You could have sworn his hand trembled for just a split second as he unsheathed it, but you were already looking down at your bare feet, letting your shoulders slump forward and your stiff back relax into a more submissive position.

A pair of black boots stopped right in front of you. Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands holding the armrests so tightly that your knuckles went white. The scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled your nose as cold metal pressed just under your chin, urging you to lift your head.

You didn't fight it, meeting a pair of honeyed eyes that stared at you coolly. So close, you could see the tiny speck of green in them, even with his dilated pupils.

Cauldron, this male was beautiful. Painfully so. Bigger issues begged for your attention, but you couldn't help but admire him—the sharp features of his face, the perfect lines of his jaw, the plush lips, the way a few black curls hung over his forehead.

You didn't dare shift your position, but the urge to clench your thighs was almost overwhelming. The most inappropriate time ever.

Azriel seemed to somehow sense it, because his nostrils flared and the tip of the knife pressed a bit more under your chin, though still not enough to draw blood.

“What are you doing here?”

That voice, like silk and shadows and ice. Now you could understand why everyone feared the Shadowsinger of the Night Court.

“Why were you in the treasury?” he pressed, more demanding than before.

When you didn't answer his questions, he removed the dagger and took a step back. You glanced at the General, still standing by the door, but your focus quickly returned to the Spymaster, who had begun to circle around your chair.

Like a beast about to strike, toying with its prey before the killing blow.

“You know, this would be easier if you talked willingly.”

Shadows wrapped around both your ankles and wrists to prevent any possible movement. He was behind you now, his dagger trailing down your arm, sending all your senses on high alert.

“Or I'll have to resort to more… unpleasant methods.”

Your bindings tightened as if to prove his point and a small gasp escaped your lips. You had to say something, come up with some kind of excuse before it was too late.

“Tell him what he wants to hear.”

What did he want to hear? You couldn't very well give up the truth, could you? But maybe if you did, maybe if you tried…

Your eyes shot to the General. He was studying you with his arms crossed, nothing but distaste etched on his features.

Azriel, now on your left, noticed the direction of your gaze. He watched the other Illyrian for a few heartbeats before speaking in that low, quiet voice of his. “You know I work better when I'm alone.”

You stilled at the words. You, alone in a dungeon cell with the Spymaster? This changed everything—reshuffling all the cards, altering the odds of how this interrogation might end.

Cassian blinked, turning to face him. The two males stared at each other for what felt like ages, a silent conversation passing between them. Eventually, the General sighed.

“Fine,” he grumbled, fingers raking through his dark hair. “But alert Rhys immediately if something happens.”

The Shadowsinger seemed to hold back a scoff. “I know what I'm doing, Cassian,” he replied coolly. “I always get the information I want.”

You swallowed harshly, but Cassian gave a sharp nod and sauntered out of the cell.

As soon as the door closed behind him and his footsteps faded down the hallways, Azriel crouched in front of you, the dagger sheathed at his thigh once more. The shadows restraining you vanished.

“What the hell are you doing here, my love?”

~~~~~~

You and Azriel had met four years prior.

When you were born—the youngest and only female in a clutch of seven brothers—your father decided to keep you in the shadows. He never publicly acknowledged having a daughter, believing that no one would suspect a girl, thus raising you to serve as his undercover agent. Only your family knew of your existence, and if you hadn't gone mad over the years of confinement, it was only thanks to your sweet mother and Eris.

Beron had spent almost a century training you, molding you into his perfect little spy, and then sent you out into the world for just as long to do exactly what he had taught you.

You were attending a ball in the Day Court the first time you saw Azriel. You had already gathered the intel your father wanted about the honored guests from the Dawn Court, but you had no intention of going home earlier than scheduled. You still had until morning. And when the most beautiful male you had ever seen walked into the room as part of the Night Court delegation, you knew exactly how you wanted to spend your remaining time.

You watched him, taking in his muscular body, the massive wings, and the swirling shadows, until his eyes finally found yours through the crowd. You offered him a gentle yet unwavering smile, and your core clenched at the way he studied you as you approached him. Like he was already imagining pinning you beneath him.

It didn't take long for him to do just that. Within minutes, you found yourself in the room he was staying in, your dress discarded on the floor and his head between your thighs.

You had never felt so good as you did in those few hours.

It was almost dawn by the time you were both spent and sweaty, but you fought against exhaustion. You waited for Azriel to fall asleep, and then you slipped out of the room.

He woke up to an empty bed.

The next time you met him was a few months later. The High Lords and High Lady were all meeting in the Winter Court to discuss Prythian’s situation after the war with Hybern, but your father was paranoid. He ordered you to ensure the other courts weren’t plotting a coup against him.

You had just sneaked out of the suite reserved for the High Lord of the Summer Court and his entourage when shadows pooled at your feet, and your back was slammed against the wall. The air was snatched from your lungs at the impact, leaving you little time to take another breath before a dark dagger pressed against your throat.

Despite having spent just one night together, you immediately recognized your assailant by his scent alone.

“Didn't know you were into this kind of thing,” you drawled, looking up to meet Azriel's gaze. “Kinky. I like it.”

His eyes widened slightly as recognition dawned on him, the blade moving an inch away from your neck but no more. “It's you.”

You knew you should be bothered by the dagger, that this was a powerful male not to be trifled with, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when you could still remember how his lips tasted and how good he felt inside you.

“Strange way to meet again, uh?”

Azriel didn't return your smirk, nor did he step away. Instead, his voice was cold as death now that his surprise had faded. “Why are you sneaking into the suites?”

You had mastered the art of weaving lies so long ago that the answer flowed effortlessly from your lips. 

“Cresseida was wearing a beautiful necklace at lunch,” you replied with a shrug. “I wanted to see if she left it in her room.”

His eyes narrowed. “So, you're a petty thief?”

Better than the truth, you thought, though a small part of you longed to confide in him, to tell him everything. A deep, innate feeling of trust had somehow bloomed in your chest. You ignored it.

“I'm a simple girl.” You offered him your most charming smile. “I see a shining jewel, and I want it for myself.”

Azriel hummed, knife still at your throat. His eyes scanned your face and you felt like he could see everything you were trying to conceal, all the secrets you'd kept locked away for years.

“You went through the suites of every Court except Autumn,” he mused, the tip of the blade tracing your jaw. You went utterly still. “Why?”

You didn't know how to answer. You didn't even know how he knew that. You'd been caught red-handed, and you had a feeling that any new lie you concocted would be pointless. So you decided to trust your gut.

“Alright.” You took a deep breath—or as deep as you dared with a sharp dagger pressed against your neck. “I work for Beron. He thinks someone might stage a coup, so he sent me to gather information.”

His eyes, which had been roaming over your features and perhaps lingered a second too long on your lips—though that could just be your imagination—snapped up to meet yours. The blade pressed a fraction harder against your skin, a clear sign of his distrust.

“For Beron?” he repeated. Not a hint of surprise or disdain marked his tone, just that icy coldness, so different from the warm voice he'd used to talk you through it in the Summer Court. “And he fears a coup?”

You wanted to sigh but didn't dare. If only he would sheath that damn dagger…

“Yes, that's what I said. And honestly, if someone does, I'm not surprised. I hope it works out for them.”

Azriel's brow arched.

“I mean, the male's horrible. He deserves it.”

You were aware of the dangerous line you were crossing, speaking of your father—your High Lord—like that to an important member of a rival court. You'd never voiced those thoughts aloud to anyone but Eris, and yet here you were. Beron would punish you if he found out. You were first his subject, then his spy, and only then his daughter.

A scarred hand cupped your jaw, Azriel's face now only inches from yours. You could feel his warm breath on your cheeks. “Why do you work for him, then?” he snarled.

His grip on your chin made it impossible to look away, forcing you to meet his golden eyes. In that moment, you let him see your truth, the honesty and vulnerability you never revealed.

“Because I don't have a choice.”

A heartbeat passed, and then his expression softened. You stilled as his hand moved from your jaw to your cheek.

You had seen his scars months ago and immediately recognized what had caused them. Cauldron knew you always kept yours hidden with a glamor, allowing it to dissipate only in the privacy of your bedroom.

Thinking about all your father had put you through made the reality of the situation slam into you. What if Azriel told your father what you had just said? The Night Court and the Autumn Court were not on good terms, but who knew what political machinations were at play behind closed doors. Beron would consider your words a betrayal and punish you accordingly.

Your worry must have shown on your face because Azriel's thumb brushed over your cheekbone, gentle and reassuring. “Your secret's safe with me,” he said softly. He studied you for a moment, and whatever he saw in your expression seemed to convince him to finally put his dagger back into its scabbard at his thigh.

You took a deep, shaky breath, unsure whether it stemmed from believing him or simply from relief at no longer being threatened.

Now free, his fingers brushed over your throat where his blade had been. There probably was a thin pink line there. His featherlight touch sent shivers down your spine.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured.

Your voice was barely a whisper. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You stared at each other, time seeming to slow down. His shadows peeked from behind his broad shoulders, a few tendrils swirling forward and weaving through your red locks, but your gaze locked on his, your heartbeat quickening. His other hand still cradled your cheek.

“I'm sorry,” you murmured.

“What for?”

‘For lying to you.’

‘For sneaking into your Court’s suite.’

‘Because I can't tell you the whole truth.’

So many easy replies, and all of them true. But one in particular pushed at the corner of your mind, one you hadn't been able to shake for months.

“For walking away right after you fell asleep.”

Something flashed in his eyes, there and gone in an instant, but you didn't recognize what it was. You didn't know him well enough to read every subtle change in his expression. Part of you wished you could.

You waited for him to say something—either to tell you he didn't care or that it wasn't a big deal—but as his silence stretched on, you debated whether you should change the subject or perhaps apologize for bringing it up.

Just as you opened your mouth, Azriel spoke again, but his words were not what you had expected.

“I looked for you the day after,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “But you were gone.”

You couldn't help but stare, so caught off guard that you were completely speechless. You had thought about him often since that night, but you never imagined he might have looked for you in the morning. You were torn between feeling even worse about leaving him and the rapid beat of your heart.

A grin curled your lips as you rested your hands on his chest. Even with his armor on, you could recall the lines of the tattoos swirling across his golden skin, a sliver of black ink peeking from his collar. “I was that good?” you teased.

Azriel chuckled under his breath, the sound like a song to your ears. “You were that good.” He leaned in, his mouth brushing against your ear, teeth grazing your earlobe. “You felt that good wrapped around me.”

Your breath hitched at his words, and you could feel his hard length pressing against your thigh, igniting a desire that made you want to moan.

“Do you want to do it again?”

He barely gave you time to finish that sentence before his lips claimed yours, eliciting a surprised whimper. Your fingers tangled in his curls, his hands cupped your face, and there was nothing sweet or gentle about the kiss as his body pressed yours against the wall and you began to grind on him.

You parted only to catch your breath, but Azriel was already nipping at your neck, and you tilted your head to grant him more access.

When distant footsteps echoed from a nearby hallway, he didn’t even pull away as shadows wrapped around you both. In an instant, they winnowed you into a bedroom you didn't bother to register, too busy pushing Azriel on the large bed and climbing on top of him.

After that time, you began to plan your meetings. It was often a real challenge to find a moment when both of you could slip away from your duties without raising suspicions, but you couldn't risk your families discovering that you were regularly sleeping with a spy from a rival court.

Then, somewhere along the way, it happened. Sex slowly transformed into making love as you both developed feelings for one another, and around one year later, the mating bond snapped into place. You wanted to accept it, but you couldn't shake the dark cloud looming over your head. It was then that you decided to tell Azriel the truth about who you were, who your father was. He was gone for twenty days after your revelation, and you were left wondering whether it was because you had kept it hidden from him for so long or if he truly had a tight schedule and couldn't make time for a secret rendezvous. But when he finally returned, he assured you that whoever your father was wouldn't change or diminish his love for you. That very night, you offered him food, relief washing over you like a balm.

~~~~~~

And here you were, three years and countless secret meetings later.

“What are you doing here?” Azriel repeated, his voice carrying the usual softness he used when speaking to you, but with an edge of nervousness and impatience.

“My father sent me to retrieve the Veritas Orb,” you explained with a sigh. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to have to lie to your family even more. And… I thought I could do this alone.”

Azriel fell silent, his back stiff, his posture rigid. The shadows had retreated behind his wings. Finally, he asked, “What does he need it for?”

You gave him an apologetic look. “He didn't bother to share that information.”

He nodded, as if he had expected that answer. Rising to his feet, he offered you a hand to help you up from your seat. You took it, his skin cold against your palm, and stood with a frown.

“What do we do now?” you whispered, anxious despite Cassian’s absence. “I didn't mean to bring you into this mess, love.”

Azriel let go of your hand to cup your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Don't apologize. I know he didn't give you a choice.” He pressed his soft lips to your forehead. “But I can't let you walk out, angel. We need some excuse.”

Right, because letting you leave unscathed and without any information would only get him in trouble with his High Lord. But leaving without the Orb would get you in trouble. And yet, you would rather endure whatever punishment your father would concoct than let your mate deal with the consequences of your reckless actions.

You stepped back, out of the warmth provided by his body. You had a plan, one you knew he wouldn’t like, but it seemed like the only solution to get you both out of this mess with minimal repercussions. Well, for him at least. You doubted Beron would take pity and turn a blind eye to your failure, but it was worth a shot.

“I need you to hurt me.”

His eyes widened, but you went on before he could object. “You can tell Rhysand I was acting alone, that you made sure I won't be a problem anymore, and I’ll go back to Autumn and tell my father I was caught and tortured. But I need you to hurt me and I need you to make it look believable.”

Azriel was gaping. You had never seen him like this before. You knew how your idea sounded, but you needed him to understand the criticality of the situation and agree to it.

“Az, I—”

“No.”

You blinked. “No?”

Something ticked in his jaw, a subtle clench of his muscle. “No,” he repeated, voice firm and unyielding. “I'm not hurting you, love. You can't just ask me to do that. I won't. I can't.”

You studied him for a moment, but you knew he wasn't going to change his mind.

“Fine,” you sighed, extending a hand toward him, palm up. “Then give me Truth-Teller.”

He frowned, and the shadows swirled around him nervously, as if sensing the direction this conversation was taking. “And why would I do that?”

“You won't hurt me, so I'll do it myself,” you replied, as if the answer was obvious.

His eyes widened. “Y/N—”

“Just a few cuts here and there,” you assured him. “Nothing too bad. But my father has to believe it's real.”

Once again, Azriel stared at you, pale as if he had just seen a ghost. “You can't be serious.”

“You have a better idea?” you retorted. Without waiting for his answer, you reached for the dagger at his thigh. The sooner you could get this over with, the better.

Azriel easily sidestepped you, grabbing both your wrists to prevent you from trying to take his knife again. “I'm not letting you hurt yourself either,” he stated. His grip on you was gentle, but his tone was cold. It was the kind of tone that told you he wouldn't take no for an answer.

But neither would you.

“We don't have a choice, Az,” you countered, your voice steady despite the rising tension. Yet you didn't try to free your hands.

Something shifted in his eyes, in his expression. His thumbs brushed over your wrists in soothing motions, and a pleading note entered his voice when he spoke again. “I can't stand to see you hurt, my love. I don't care about the reason.”

For a few seconds, you just stared into each other's eyes. You were still tense and rigid, and fear coiled in your gut at the thought of going back and facing your father. But Azriel's gaze was soft, scarred fingers never ceasing their gentle caresses. In that moment, you realized that he would rather tell his family the truth than let you go back home battered.

And then it hit you. Though you loved the Autumn Court, it wasn't your home. No, your home was Azriel. He had been for years now. Your safe place, the person you could always count on, the one who knew you better than anyone else. Your mate.

“He won't let me leave,” you whispered, and you hated how weak and vulnerable you sounded.

“You're already here.” Azriel lifted your hands to his mouth and pressed a warm kiss on each palm. “You don't need to leave. You just need to stay.”

You shook your head, tears rising to your eyes. “He sent me here. He knows where I am, and he'll come looking or send someone to find me, or—”

“We'll deal with him,” he interrupted you. “But you'll be safe here. I promise.”

You couldn't hold back the tears, then. He sounded so sure, as if it could ever be that simple. As if you could just make the choice to stay and never go back. You wished you could. With all your heart, you wished it could be as simple as that.

“Az, I… I can't,” you murmured, voice trembling.

He let go of your wrists to cup your cheeks, wiping away your tears. “I will protect you,” he reassured softly. “My whole family will, once they know the truth. You will be safe in the Night Court. And if not, then… then we'll go somewhere else, somewhere far away where Beron won't find us.”

We. Us.

For how long had you wished to hear those words? Even after you two had met, you had never truly been a couple. You had stolen moments whenever you could, but it was always you and him—your duties and his. Never a ‘we’, never an ‘us’.

“Stay.”

You closed your eyes, unable to hold his pleading gaze any longer.

“Stay in the Night Court.”

You swallowed, the weight of the decision heavy on your shoulders as if it were a physical burden. “Az…”

“Stay with me.” His voice broke, vulnerability spilling into every word. “Please.”

What if it were that easy? What if you could make the decision and simply not go back to the Autumn Court? What if you could spend every day and every night with the person you loved with all your heart, with your mate, and not having to hide, to carefully plan every meeting, to weave lie after lie to everyone around you?

When you opened your eyes, Azriel was staring at you. He was still brushing away your tears, but even through their veil, you could see how beautiful he was. How desperate. How broken.

And you nodded.

“Okay,” you whispered.

His eyes immediately lit up. “Okay?”

“Yes,” you confirmed despite the quiver in your voice. “Yes, I'm… I’m staying. With you.”

You barely had time to finish the sentence before he pulled you into his arms, your face pressed against his chest as he held you tight. You let yourself go, surrendering to the tears and the sobs shaking your body, clutching his leathers to keep your hands from trembling.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your hair, over and over. “Thank you, my love. Thank you.”

You didn't know how long you just stood there. Minutes, hours, days—it didn't matter. You were together now, and you would always be from this moment on. You were home, and never again would you suffer at the hands of your father.

His shadows swarmed around you, caressing your back and arms, twisting in your hair as if they, too, were excited about what would happen next. You didn't know. For the first time in your life, the future was bright, and happiness was within your grasp.

You pulled back only when your tears ran dry. Azriel pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead, and you both smiled, brightly and lovingly, knowing you would not leave each other again.

“Let's get you out of here,” he said eventually, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers. “There's so much to do.”

Like meeting his family. Revealing your identity, who you were and what you did, and hoping they would understand and not hold it against you.

As Azriel stepped back to turn toward the door, you hesitated.

“Can you promise me something?” you asked, your voice quiet and still a bit hoarse from crying.

He stopped, worried eyes immediately searching your face for any sign of discomfort or concern. “Of course, love. Anything you want.”

“It's nothing too big, just…” You offered a small smile and squeezed his fingers. “No more secrets, Az.”

His hazel eyes softened, and his lips curled into a beautiful smile. He nodded, tugging gently on your hand to lead you out of the cell and into your new life. “No more secrets.”

2nd a/n: if the lines "Stay / Stay in the Night Court / Stay with me" reminded you of another very similar quote, you are correct. I had originally written "Stay in the Night Court. Just... stay with me" and it made me think of that quote, which is one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite books and said by one of my favorite characters ever, so I decided to include it (a little easter egg, if you will). Kaz and Azriel 🤝 simping for the girl they like

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

[mymegrokosmos]

cheol bf brainrot that no one asked for bc smth a friend sent me sparked a thought tonight so thank k👑 for this one.

I am so sane and normal about this, yup.

seungcheol insists on carrying everything for you. From your purse to your amazon order and even the groceries. Why would you need to handle silly tasks like struggling up to your apartment with big boxes when he's there to do the heavy lifting for you?

On top of being his passenger princess one of the things you took a while to come to a compromise with in your relationship was being taken care of. Letting him do things for you without feeling like you're taking advantage. He insists he does these things for you because he likes to, that it makes him feel better to know you're eating good meals and that he likes when you take over the aux from the passenger seat or talk him through your day while he drives home after work with you on speaker phone.

At first it made you uncomfortable being so pampered all the time. You quickly came to learn the seungcheol's love language is acts of service. Doing these things for you like ordering you dinner when he can't be there to take you out, or picking you up after a night out with your friends when you lose track of time and miss the last bus. So when you eventually start taking joint trips to the grocery store, it's no surprise that you don't get to lift a single finger.

Pushing the cart? He's got it. Reaching the things on shelves too high for you? He's already asking how many you need. Getting your dairy products from the cold freezer section? You stand watch over the cart and stay warm while he picks out the exact brands and flavours he knows are your favourites. And, of course, he insists on carrying the bags back out to the car. You can take a couple of the lightest ones but only because you sulked about it. He insists that he needs you to have one hand free for the keys so you can pop the trunk for him but you both know that's just an excuse to save your pride.

He pouted when you even brought up the possibility of helping so here you are, watching him load the bags while you wonder what good deed you did in your past life to have earned a partner so full of care and genuine love for everyone in his life. It's also just a little bit unfair how handsome he looks in track pants, a plain t-shirt, oversized hoodie and baseball cap perched backwards on his head. He pauses to lift it when he finishes, running a hand through the dark mop of hair that just seems to keep getting longer every time you blink.

"Hey, honey?"

He comes over to see what you need. "Yes jagi?"

The crease in his brows only serves to endear you further. You don't answer right away, too distracted by your fond musings, and it deepens. He taps your cheek gently. You snap out of your thoughts. He looks concerned.

"Everything okay baby?"

You nod. One hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over one half of the set of dimples that just make you want to eat him. He leans into your touch, smiling softly, but doesn't take his eyes from yours.

"You sure?"

You smile. "Yeah. I'm good."

Instead of explaining you just lean up, pressing a kiss to the cheek not currently nuzzling against your palm. He kisses your hand.

"Thank you Cheollie."

"For what?"

"For always being such a gentleman."

He blinks. You know it's just second nature to him. He doesn't think twice about the way he does these things. That doesn't make them any less meaningful or appreciated.

You take advantage of his confusion to plant a kiss on him. He just stares at you when you pull back. Your hand slides down to rest on his chest and that seems to snap him back into action. He pulls you in, one hand on your waist, and blinks at you.

"Baby?"

"Yes Cheol?"

"Do that again." You quirk a brow at him. "Please."

His smile when you pull away, much more slowly and reluctantly this time, is worth it. He isn't even looking when he tugs you a few steps back with him, out of the way of the small car pulling out of the parking spot beside you. When you blink up at him he's still grinning. He holds out a hand for the keys, not letting you go as he gets the passenger door and helps you in.

"Let's go home."

"Mhm."

The smile on his face didn't falter the whole way home. Neither did the hand on your thigh, fingers laced with yours even as he pulled into the parking garage under your building.

Needless to say, you now reward him with kisses all the time. It's the one response to spoiling you that he can't complain about.

[gregorygerwitz]

in the spirit of transparency, the next ~$15 I get is gonna go to refilling my yarn stash of colors I've run out of so I can finish Kit's blanket for her birthday in three weeks

[navybrat817]

Pencil You In

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you've been working too hard and need a break. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: Fluff, crying, reader is tired, slight insecurities, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Partially inspired by an image the beautiful @bucksangel sent me and life stretching me a bit thin, here's a little ficlet. Lovelies, take breaks. You deserve them and you are more than enough! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You slumped in your chair of your home office as you reread the sentence on the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Weariness had already settled deep in your bones long before you looked over the document, the words blurring together the longer you stared. Blinking a few times didn’t help as you reached for your mug, only to remember that you had finished your extra helping of caffeine an hour ago. Begrudgingly, you set it down and huffed as if it was somehow the fault of the cup that it didn’t automatically fill itself.

“Almost done,” you whispered to yourself, straightening up so you could do one last readthrough.

It was a long week in what felt like a series of long weeks. Almost every minute of your schedule was accounted for lately and all you wanted to do was relax. People were depending on you though and you could relax over the weekend.

Hopefully.

“You should take a break.”

You didn’t turn around immediately at the sound of Bucky’s gentle voice, but you did manage a smile when you glanced over your shoulder a moment later. He didn’t return the smile, concern swirling in his blue irises. You were afraid to stare into the pool of his eyes for too long out of fear of drowning.

And, god, you were drowning. It would be so easy to reach out and take the lifeline that was his hand. To just admit that you need some time to rest because you were tired. Hadn’t you earned it? Didn’t you deserve a break after the hard work you put in?

But maybe you didn’t deserve it. What you did wasn’t as important as someone like Bucky. You firmly shut the door on that thought before the words could make their way out of your mouth. If he could’ve read your mind and known you thought that, it would’ve disappointed him. Not in you, but whoever made you decide that what you did wasn’t enough.

Because you were always expected to do and be more.

“I will in a few minutes,” you said.

He let out a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms, making you tear your gaze away. You didn’t comment on his disheveled hair, like he kept running a hand through it. Likely because he worried about you stretching yourself too thin. “That was what you said a few minutes ago,” he reminded you, his voice light instead of accusatory.

You shut your eyes in the hopes that the tears wouldn’t come and took a breath. “I really will this time,” you promised, giving the document one last readthrough once you got your emotions under control.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

If you wouldn’t take a break for your own sake, you had to do it for Bucky.

“Okay. I think that’s at a good stopping point,” you said, making you saved it before you closed it out. If you lost all of that after everything you put into it so far, you would’ve lost it. Before you could move to the next task on your list though, an alert popped up on your screen. Your heart dropped to your stomach because you didn’t remember scheduling anything else today. You didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for more. “What is this?” You mumbled before you opened it.

Reading the subject line, you did a double take.

CUDDLE WITH BUCKY

You covered your mouth to smother your giggles. “I don’t remember scheduling this meeting.”

“It’s a good thing I remembered, baby,” he said as you spun around in your chair, sauntering over to you with a smirk as you tried not to laugh again. “It’s a mandatory meeting in our bed. No rescheduling. And I expect it to go the full hour. Maybe longer.”

“How did you manage to set up an alert on my computer?” You asked as he grasped your hands and helped you to your feet, having to steady yourself a bit when your head spun.

At least you remembered to eat. Well, that wasn’t technically true. Bucky brought you your meal earlier because he was the best boyfriend you could ask for.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he winked before he brought a palm to your cheek, his gaze shifting to something more serious. “But it seemed to get your attention.”

Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “I wasn’t…” you trailed off, an apology on the tip of your tongue. Had you neglected him this past week? Or the ones before that?

Did he think you were a bad girlfriend?

Bucky slid his hand to your chin so you’d look at him again. “Hey,” he whispered when your lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean anything by that and I’m not upset with you. I don’t think I could ever be upset with you. But, baby, you’ve been working your ass off even more than usual. I’m so fucking proud of you, but you need to take a real break.”

Your eyes burned, but no tears surfaced as he searched your gaze. “But-”

“What is it you always tell me about work?”

“That it’ll be there tomorrow, but we may not be” you answered, sighing. He was right. You couldn’t let work and expectations others set for you take control of your life. “I told you that the last time you ran yourself ragged with missions.”

He brought his mouth to your forehead to kiss it, his scruff tickling your skin. “And now I’m returning the favor,” he said against your skin. “So, come to bed. Lay with me. Just…”

“Be present,” you finished.

No phones. No work. No outside forces interfering. Just the pleasure of being with each other.

“Exactly,” he said, tugging you by the hand. “C’mon. We’re both late for our meeting.”

“Yes, Sir,” you teased, smiling when he groaned.

“This is a cuddle meeting, but it’ll turn into gently fucking you to sleep if you keep talking like that,” he warned you, pulling you to bed a bit faster.

“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” you smiled, gasping as he gently pushed you onto the mattress.

He braced a hand on each side of your head as he leaned down, his breath fanning your face when you whimpered. “Sex after we cuddle,” he breathed, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then we can cuddle again.”

You leaned up to brush your lips against his. “Deal,” you agreed.

Once he maneuvered you to the middle of the bed, his large body spooning yours, you couldn’t stop the tears that came. You bit your lip so he wouldn’t hear your soft sobs, but he must’ve sensed them as he grazed his nose along your neck affectionately and pulled you closer in his arms. You didn’t realize just how much you needed to be held until then.

It was as if all the stress faded away.

“I really am proud of you. Hardest working woman I know and always taking care of me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your pulse as more tears hit the pillow.

“Because I love you, Bucky,” you whispered. Who wouldn’t want to take care of someone as amazing as James Buchanan Barnes?

“And I love you, too. So much,” he swore to you, turning you in his arms so he could kiss the tears away. The first kiss lingered on your cheek as he let out a shuddering breath. The sight of you crying likely broke his heart, but he didn’t say anything about it for your sake. “So let me be your personal hero today, okay? Let me take care of you and show that you’re more than enough.”

The words were so heartfelt and touching that you were surprised you didn’t melt on the spot. “You already are,” you promised before his lips met yours.

And he could pencil himself in for cuddles and more whenever he wanted.

I'll say it again, lovelies, you deserve breaks and you are more than enough. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[d1xonss]

Practice Makes Perfect

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 11

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+)

✧ Word Count : 8.9k

AN ~ Okay, so this was originally a request sent in by annon, but when I first uploaded it, I wasn't completely happy with the turnout. It felt a bit rushed and there were some things I wanted to change so I figured I would reupload and try again. So in other words, if you've already seen me post this once, no you didn't:) Hope you enjoy! xoxo

ps- Daryl's a sub in this so if you're into that, this is definitely for you;)

Daryl stood slumped over at the kitchen counter in the shitty apartment he now called home, the space oddly silent as the kids were off with Carol for the day. But the quiet was nice, it gave him time to think, time to let his mind wander as he slowly woke for the day. The smell of coffee hit his nose as it brewed softly from behind him, the light streaming in through the opened windows to let in the fresh breeze. 

Though his gaze remained downcast at the piece of paper that sat in front of him, his eyes rereading the words over and over again to the point where he had it memorized. The neat cursive of your handwriting, the small errors in your spelling, and especially the little heart you placed at the bottom where your name was signed. You had left it the first time you came over, and even though you didn’t have a clue in the world, he had kept it ever since. Mostly because he didn’t have the heart to throw it away. Though there might’ve been another small part of him that held onto it because it was something you wrote out for him, and him only.

He reminisced about how stressed he was that day, having just moved into the Commonwealth with two of his kids, trying to figure out the new community and routine they would have to grow accustomed to. It was all very surreal having to go back to a “normal” kind of life, Judith already asking for allowance before he even had his first day of work made his head spin. But then with just a soft knock on the door, came a sight that he never expected to see.

You stood there on the other side, all pretty and perfect, wearing a smile on your face and holding out a container of cookies as some kind of welcome. You explained that you lived just down the hall and heard about the new arrivals, wanting to do something special as you expressed your understanding for how weird it must’ve felt for him. And after offering your baked goods and assistance to whatever they might need, all Daryl could do was nod his head as he stared at you dumbly. He wasn’t trying to be rude, in fact he appreciated your words more than anything in that moment. However, he couldn’t help but ogle you as if you walked straight out of a Disney movie or something.

And it was safe to say those feelings never exactly went away. In fact every time he saw you they only seemed to worsen.

The kids however were even more hooked with you than he was, your cookies really winning them over in the beginning as they finished them within a day and a half. “Marry her.” was the first thing Judith told him after tasting the delicious treat, and he couldn’t deny he was amused. Though he obviously wasn’t looking to date or marry anyone ever, the idea of eating whatever you baked for the years to come...it tempted him a bit.

But the reality of it all was that he didn’t want to ruin his blossoming friendship with you, it was far too precious for him to ever risk. That, and he had absolutely no experience with relationships whatsoever. He had kissed a girl once when he was about fifteen, but other than that, he hadn't been with anyone in his entire life. Never even showed interest in any woman that attempted to flirt or touch him as he simply didn’t ever feel the need to want that. He always preferred to be on his own, that’s just the way that it was. 

But now as he stood there, reading over your note you left on top of the container of cookies all those months ago, he knew he was in way over his head with someone like you.

Just then the front door suddenly opened up, the sound causing him to jump a bit as your familiar voice called out, “It’s me!”

It had become a common occurrence for you to just walk into each other's homes without knocking, and though Daryl didn’t mind, now was clearly not the time. He scrambled to open up a random drawer, tossing the note inside before slamming it shut again, “Kitchen.” he called back with a huff.

He saw your head peek around the corner a few seconds later, smiling as you adjusted the strap of your purse, “Hey, you busy?”

“Nah,” he said as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, “Just…makin some coffee.” he gestured, offering you a thin lipped smile.

You nodded, “Where are the kids?” you asked, sitting yourself down at one of the stools across from him, “I found some things I think they’ll like, I figured I’d stop by and drop them off.”

“They’re out with Carol, she offered to take ‘em for a couple hours.”

“Oh.” you nodded again as you watched him turn around to pour himself a cup of coffee, “Well, that’s nice…you deserve some peace in the mornings every once and a while. I can just leave them here.” you suggested as you took the two little boxes out of your bag, placing them down on the counter.

He hummed a response before retrieving some milk and sugar to pour a decent amount into the mug, making you question everything as he was always adamant on having his coffee black. The way God intended or something. But then your expression softened a bit seeing him setting it down in front of you instead, making it the way he knew you loved.

“Oh, I don’t need any-” you tried to protest.

“It’s just coffee,” he said as if it were no big deal, “No roofies or anything, I swear.”

You snorted at his shitty joke, like you always did, raising the cup to your lips as you muttered, “Smartass.” just loud enough for him to hear.

He smirked a little at your response, pouring himself a cup of the steaming hot beverage as the two of you enjoyed it in the nice comfortable silence. His eyes never strayed away from you for very long however, almost as if he was casually taking in your appearance without you noticing too much. You always dressed up pretty, your hair styled to perfection, wearing some kind of boot or high heel, and paired with some fancy outfit that was far too much for the apocalypse. But Daryl never minded. In fact, he found it endearing.

Though he couldn’t help but let his mind wander a bit, noticing that it had been quite a long time since he had seen you. Usually the two of you would get together a few times a week simply because you had grown to love each other’s company. But recently you had been busy with other things, with other people. Perhaps that’s why he found himself staring at your note this morning, subconsciously missing you without even realizing it.

“You avoiding me or somethin?” he then broke the silence, his question lighthearted but a part of him was a little serious. His insecurities tending to get in the way of things.

Your brows furrowed a little, “What?”

He shrugged a bit, “Just noticed you’ve been busy lately…haven’t seen ya in a while. Miss ya.”

You gave him a sad smile, “Believe me, I’m not doing it on purpose, work has just been insane. We recruited a few new people who don’t know what the hell they’re doing, training them has been a disaster, and…” you trailed off as you looked at him, noticing the small smile he wore when watching you ramble on and on. “...I miss you too.”

“Then stay for a while.” he said, his voice soft, seeing if he could keep you a few extra minutes before you would ultimately have to go to work.

You sat up a bit straighter at the invitation, “Yeah? You want me to?”

“Course.” he reassured, though his statement made him feel a bit uneasy, roughly clearing his throat to slightly divert the topic, “Just…don’t get too comfortable cause you ain’t movin in.”

He heard you laugh softly, the sound being almost too perfect to be real, “Don’t worry, I know you like your little bachelor pad going on here.” you gestured.

He scoffed, “Yeah, when the kids ain’t hoggin it.”

You hummed before a slow knowing smile was brought to your face, gently setting down your mug, “You know, speaking of…I talked to Carol recently. She told me some pretty interesting things.”

He raised an eyebrow, whether it was one of concern or curiosity, you couldn’t tell, “Oh yeah? Bout what?”

“You. And…Connie.” you hinted.

A look of surprise crossed his face, “What bout Connie?”

You shrugged innocently, “She seems to think you have a little thing for her.” you said, taking another sip of your coffee as you looked around, “Maybe this won’t be a bachelor pad for long.” you winked.

Daryl was left baffled. Why Carol would think he had a thing for Connie, he had no idea. But she had gotten it completely wrong, and now the girl he had been pinning over was under the same impression from the misinformation. But he couldn’t necessarily correct you, not without you questioning why. This conversation couldn’t have been going any worse, and all because he just wanted you to stay for a damn cup of coffee.

He couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, running a hand through his slightly messy hair, “You and yer wishful thinkin, girl.” he tried to brush off.

You tilted your head a bit at his dismissive tone, “I just want you to be happy.”

The sincerity in your voice made his heart flutter in an unimaginable way, finding he couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto his face. This is exactly why he liked you, your heart was far too big for your own good. “Yer pretty sweet, ya know that?”

“I’m just being honest,” you spoke softly, “If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”

He scoffed lightly in response, “Well, I appreciate that…but I don't think that's somethin I want...it ain’t really that simple for me. I can’t just…do that with Connie. Or any woman really. I ain’t good at that kinda stuff, I dunno what the hell m’ doin. I never even-”

A lump formed in his throat as he suddenly cut off the last part of his sentence, feeling his face get hot with embarrassment at what almost dared to slip out. He hadn’t meant to say that much, he never wanted to admit this kind of stuff to anyone let alone the woman he was enamored by. But now he had gone too far, he became far too open and honest about his inexperience, and now all he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die. 

Apparently, the conversation could get worse.

Though whether it was because of your innocence or the fact that it was early in the morning, you weren’t picking up what he was putting down as your face morphed into confusion instead. “Never even…what?”

Oh for the love of God.

Daryl cleared his throat awkwardly as he ran a hand over his face, the redness spreading down his neck as he debated on whether or not to tell you. It was mortifying, the fact that he had gone fifty whole years without touching a woman was absolutely the last thing he wanted you to know. Yet at the same time, he trusted you. He trusted you wouldn’t laugh or make fun of him for the matter. And anyway, he felt it was a little too late to back out now given the intrigued look on your face.

“Never had…y’know…” he trailed off with a gesture of his hand, hoping he wouldn’t have to actually say it out loud.

A beat of silence passed before your eyes widened a little as you connected the dots. Though you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. No way this man was a virgin.

“Shut up.”

Daryl felt his cheeks burn brighter at your disbelief, “M’ serious…I ain’t ever…done that before.”

“You’ve never had sex?” you asked as if to make sure you were truly on the same page.

He blinked, “No.”

You slumped back in your seat with a breath, “Wow…” you muttered, watching as he grew more uncomfortable by the second. Though you weren’t trying to make him uneasy by admitting such a thing, it just genuinely surprised you that he had gone this far in his life without sleeping with someone. I mean…he was attractive, kind, somewhat of a smartass. It was hard to believe no one had fallen for that sort of thing, causing you to wonder just how much he had missed out on.

You nodded to yourself, “We gotta get you laid or something.”

His eyes widened in absolute horror, clearly not expecting that response from you, “No, no that’s- what?” he exclaimed in disgust, “You ain’t gettin me laid.”

“Why not?” you asked in mild disappointment.

He set his mug down on the counter with a soft slam as he grunted in slight frustration, “Christ (Y/N), cause it ain’t that easy. I don’t just wanna screw around with someone, that ain’t me. I would have to have…feelings for that person to get that far, y’know?” he asked, silently pleading with you to understand.

His outlook made you slowly realize that Daryl wasn’t like any other guy you’d ever met. Well, you always knew that, but hearing his genuine words seemed to make you falter for a moment as you just simply stared at him. Any other guy would absolutely dive head first for the opportunity to have a random and meaningless hookup, something to make them feel good before forgetting about the other person as a whole. Using them to just get what they wanted. 

But Daryl…was the complete opposite; probably the biggest sweetheart the world had ever seen. You knew he would want to love and cherish that person he would share such an intimate moment with, treating them with the most respect and consideration. He would probably take it as slow as possible, not only to prolong the intimacy, but to make sure they were truly comfortable. You imagined him to be gentle and kind, even after the deed was done, he would continue to take care of them, offering to get them anything their heart desired. 

Thinking about all of this caused an unexpected flutter in your stomach, one that you didn’t expect. But you couldn’t deny it was there.

You blinked a few times to snap yourself out of it, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I know that…I honestly wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” you smiled softly.

His shoulders relaxed a bit upon hearing your response, nodding in appreciation as he assumed the topic of conversation would end here, hoping to get out of this humiliating misery. But before he could speak, your gentle voice cut off his words.

“Is there someone you have feelings for?"

His eyes widened a little at the unexpected question, "...Huh?"

"Is there someone you’d want to, you know…experience that with?” you clarified.

He paused again, swallowing nervously as there was a certain heaviness to that question he couldn’t place. Of course there was. The way he felt about you was unlike anything else he had ever experienced before. In the beginning he denied it relentlessly, because he simply couldn’t accept the fact that he had managed to open up his heart to someone so special. But there was no denying it anymore, at least to himself. Though you on the other hand, could never know the truth.

“Nah.” he said simply.

You nodded slowly in understanding, quietly tapping your fingers on the counter as if you were trying to figure out what to say. “Well…if there comes a time where there is someone, and you need some advice…I’m always around.” you assured.

He nodded slowly, “Alright...” he said in appreciation, trying to mask how he was really feeling, his heart feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest at the thought of you seeing through him.

“Dropping the topic now.” you said as you raised your hands in surrender.

He chuckled gruffly, “Thanks.”

You smiled up at him, before catching a glimpse of the time blinking on the oven, “Oh shoot, I should go. I have to head into the infirmary in like fifteen minutes.” you said as you quickly drank one last mouthful of coffee.

Daryl tried his best not to let his disappointment show, nodding once more as his eyes followed you when you moved around to place your empty mug in the sink. Though the disappointment seemed to diminish when you turned around to give him a hug, your arms going around his shoulders as you gave him a soft squeeze. He found himself smiling at your familiar gesture, patting your back before he pulled away first, his hand lingering on your arm.

“Stay outta trouble, alright?” he mumbled.

“Always.” you promised in return.

An entire week had passed since that little talk the two of you had in his home, and it was safe to say that it had been plaguing Daryl’s mind ever since. He couldn’t recall the last time he was so open with someone, not being able to tell for certain if he regretted it or not. Though he couldn’t deny that your support and understanding wasn’t something to take for granted. But the longer he thought about the interaction, the more he wished he’d told you the truth.

Maybe he should’ve laid it all out there, but then again he had a lot to lose. Having no idea how you would react to his confession, he could potentially scare you off, and that was something he didn’t know if he should risk. He became a mess of emotions as he pondered endlessly over the things that clouded his thoughts. Although he couldn’t deny that he was slowly starting to find the idea of sex more and more appealing the longer he thought about it. Maybe having a little experience wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But that also meant having to ask you for that experience, and he knew he would rather die than put himself out there like that.

Though as the days dragged on and he grew more restless, he physically couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. This was way out of his comfort zone, he knew that, but he felt like he was going crazy at this point. At least if you said no then he could just move on and not absolutely spiral about the constant “what ifs.” So, with that in mind, he smoked an entire joint by himself in order to calm his nerves before gathering what little confidence he had left, and headed down to the infirmary where he knew you’d be at this hour. He couldn’t let himself think about the decision too much otherwise he knew he would surely chicken out. 

The door opened with a soft creak as he stepped inside, scanning the area for you. He disregarded the people sitting in the waiting area, clearly anticipating when their name would be called, opting out to peer around the corner to try and see if he could spot you. And sure enough he managed to catch a glimpse of your frame in the back, stocking up a nearby medicine cabinet as you organized a few pill bottles. You were wearing that little white doctors coat that he knew you hated, thinking it ruined your outfits. But he always found it quite attractive.

He awkwardly stood there for a moment as if debating whether or not to go back there, knowing he didn’t exactly have permission. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, letting out a small whistle in hopes to get you to look at him. It was a quiet, soft sound, but it caught your attention nonetheless, glancing over your shoulder to see him standing there lingering in the waiting room. He smiled a bit, gesturing with a hand as if asking if he could walk over to talk to you, to which you nodded almost immediately, waving him back.

Daryl let out a breath once you beckoned him to come over, silently slipping past everyone else to join you in your more secluded spot, “Hey.” he breathed.

You smiled, “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

Once you said that, it hit him. What was he doing here? He showed up to where you worked of all places to have this private discussion, not even considering the option to invite you over sometime to talk like adults. Maybe he underestimated how high he really was.

“Just uh…just wanted to see ya.” he said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he figured there was no backing out now, “Can we talk for a minute?”

“Oh, um…” you trailed off as you looked around, making sure no one needed your assistance, “You might have to make it quick.”

He nodded in understanding, “Right, course…I promise it won’t take long.”

Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “What’s going on?”

He cleared his throat nervously, gripping the material of his jeans as he felt his palms begin to sweat, “You know, uh…you remember that morning you came over a few days ago? When we was talkin in the kitchen?”

“Mhm.” you nodded.

He swallowed thickly as his heart was beating concerningly fast, trying to force himself to just say it, “Well, I been thinkin…bout what you said and…all that,” he gestured with his hand, “Bout gettin some real experience.”

Your eyebrows raised a little, “Really? You changed your mind?”

“Yeah, I did,” he grunted, “I think it could help, y’know…get outta my comfort zone and whatnot. See what all the fuss is bout.” he joked dryly, purposefully dancing around the subject.

You smiled a bit in surprise that he was willing to take that step, knowing normally he wasn’t one for change or trying new things. But maybe this time he was really ready to put himself out there, and you couldn’t lie, you were happy for him. Though the more you thought about it, the more you became a bit discouraged at the thought of him with another woman. You didn’t know where it came from, this pang of jealousy, but you knew you couldn’t say anything. After all, you were his friend, and he clearly came here in search of the support you always provided.

So, you managed to push your lingering thoughts aside, smiling genuinely as you gave his arm a small nudge, “Well, I think that’s great.”

He hummed as he nodded his head, trying to force himself to just stop being a coward and ask, “But I also had…somethin to ask ya.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Oh? About advice?”

“Nah…not exactly,” he mumbled as he let out a heavy sigh, “I was just wonderin…if you’d…” he trailed off again as he took another moment to look at you. He knew there was no going back after he said this, questioning last minute if it was really worth it. But seeing that gleam in your eyes and the sweetness of your smile, the words just seemed to stumble out without his permission.

“If you’d be the one to give me some experience.” he said quietly, his tall frame leaning down a bit to mutter it quietly for your ears only.

Your stomach plummeted when you heard his quiet request, feeling as if the wind was knocked out of you as that was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. The way his tone dropped when he asked, the fact that he took a small step closer to tower over you more than he normally was. It was all doing something to do. The tension between you was there, thick enough to cut with a knife as you stared at him practically gaping like a fish, not knowing what to say.

On one hand, you were flattered, and a little turned on by the fact that he wanted you specifically to give him the experience he craved. But another part of you felt hesitant, as if you weren’t one hundred percent sure he knew what he was asking of you. You wanted him to get out there, escape his comfort zone, but you didn’t want him to do it just because you simply suggested it.

Though just as he was growing a bit worried at your silence, you finally spoke, “...Me? You…you want it to be me?” you whispered.

He let out a soft breath, “Well…yeah. I...I really like ya, and...I trust ya.” he admitted, gazing down at you with a certain gentleness in his eyes, “But you know…you don’t gotta if you dont want to. I ain't gonna pressure you or anythin, I just thought I'd...” he trailed off, realizing he was talking far too much.

But you didn’t feel pressured, quite the opposite really. You honestly just couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it was a lot to process, and you hardly knew what to say. Time seemed to be moving incredibly fast and slow at the same time as you stood there, staring at each other with a newfound feeling.

Though just as you were about to open your mouth to speak again, someone popped around the corner and called your name, clearly needing some help. Daryl silently cursed at the interruption, though it was to be expected. He was coming to the conclusion that this was probably the worst time to be having this discussion.

“Sounds like they need ya...” he said softly.

You tilted your head as you didn’t want to go, your expression turning sympathetic, “I’m sorry.” you whispered.

Daryl shrugged it off, “It’s alright.” he said, hesitating for a moment, before reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Your eyes widened a little at the gesture, the comfort of his touch, feeling yourself almost leaning into his hand before he took it away too quickly.

“I’ll um…I’ll see ya around, okay?” he said with a nod before turning to head out, not even giving you a chance to respond. 

You were a little shocked at his sudden rush to get away, but at the same time you understood. He must’ve been incredibly embarrassed and ashamed, especially since you hadn’t given him an answer. A part of you wanted to call him back, but you knew better than to do that, knowing he was already too far gone to hear you anyways.

Daryl couldn’t even begin to describe his regret as he walked back home, the distance between his apartment and the infirmary giving him way too much time to think. You didn’t seem completely disgusted, but clearly you weren’t a huge fan of the idea given the look on your face. He knew this was a bad plan from the get go, but he still somehow convinced himself to do it, now wishing he had never opened up his mouth at all. He felt a certain grief wash over him as he could imagine he had ruined whatever relationship he had with you, needing to learn to let it go. 

The remainder of the day passed by in a flash, ending with him taking a long, hot shower in an attempt to ease the tension in his muscles and the thoughts circling his mind. The water sprayed down on him like an element of lava given the harsh temperature, his fingers running through his wettened hair as he rinsed out the soap and bubbles. Perhaps the longer he spent under the running faucet, the more it would make him forget about the embarrassing events of the day. It caused him to wonder what you were thinking at this moment in time, but then again a part of him didn’t want to know.

“Daryl?”

His eyes widened in surprise when he heard the sound of your voice, momentarily considering it to be just his imagination, but the sound of the front door closing with a familiar slam convinced him otherwise. What the hell were you doing here? And with the worst timing in the world.

“Y-Yeah? I’m in the shower.” he called out without thinking, the door being opened a crack and just enough to where he hoped you could hear him.

You fidgeted nervously near the front entrance, hearing his slightly muffled words made you rethink your decision to come over, seeing it clearly wasn’t the best time. “Oh, okay...should I um…should I come back later?”

“No, no,” he quickly called out again, “Just…just gimmie a sec.” he said as he frantically finished up before you had the chance to leave.

With his reassurance in mind, you stayed put as you waited for him, briefly hearing the water shut off after only a few seconds. Your thoughts ran wild as you pondered over the things you wanted to say, having not been able to take your mind off the interaction for your whole shift. It was distracting, nerve racking…but it was also a bit enticing. You had no idea what you were going to say to him, but one thing was for certain, you weren’t about to deny that his request didn’t intrigue you.

The sound of his footsteps approaching is what snapped you out of your thoughts, your eyes widening a fraction as you saw him step into the living room in nothing but a towel. The truth was, he was just far too anxious to hear what you had to say to take the time and put on real clothes. Though now as he stood a few feet from you with just a thin piece of fabric shielding him, he felt a little exposed under your lingering gaze. But you couldn’t bring yourself to look away, his messy hair sticking to the sides of his face and the water droplets that clung to his skin, it truly was a sight to behold.

Had you always looked at him like this? From the moment you met, you always saw him as a close friend and someone you could count on for anything. But now it was like a switch flipped or something, nearly drooling as you saw him in a way you never had before.

“Somethin you need, sweetheart?” Daryl’s voice broke through the silence.

You blinked a few times as you were brought back to the current situation, nodding absentmindedly, “Yeah, uh…I was hoping we could talk.”

He shifted a bit on his feet, subconsciously tugging his towel up a bit, “Bout what?” he asked dumbly. He knew why you were here; he just didn’t know what else to say.

You gave him a look that made him feel stupider than before, “About earlier…” you trailed off after a moment, attempting to find the right words, “Were you…um…did you really mean all that?”

He shrugged, “Yeah…” he breathed, “You really think I didn’t mean what I said?”

“No,” you quickly reassured with a shake of your head, “It’s just…it was all really unexpected, you know? You’ve never done anything like this before, and now all of a sudden, you’re asking me-”

“I know how it looks,” he said as he dared to take another step closer to you, “But…I’ve had these feelings for ya ever since you first knocked on that damn door, alright? It’s new to you but it ain’t new to me.”

Your expression softened as he admitted this wasn’t some spur of the moment thing, not that you thought it was. But his confirmed feelings for you only drew you closer to him, hearing the assertiveness behind every word.

“Look,” he sighed, “Goin down there and askin ya that was me bein a fuckin idiot. I shouldn’t have gone about it like that, hell, maybe I shouldn’t have even asked at all...I don’t know. But I don’t want ya to feel like ya owe me a damn thing, cause ya don’t. If you don’t wanna do this-”

“I want to.”

Daryl paused for a moment when you interrupted him, feeling a bit shocked that you had made your decision just like that. But then again, you did have hours to think it over. Meanwhile he didn’t even have to think twice when it came to you.

“Y-You do?” he asked, not meaning to stutter. He was just thrown off and absolutely floored that someone as breathtaking as you would agree to something like this with him of all people.

You took a breath as you stepped closer to him, leaving just a few inches of space, “Yeah…I really do. Honestly, I’m...pretty flattered.”

He felt a sudden burst of nervousness in his chest as the reality of the situation began to set in for him. You wanted this too. He could easily see how genuine you were being as you moved to be closer to him.

Clearing his throat gruffly, he spoke again a bit quieter, “Yer flattered?” he couldn’t help but chuckle, “Ya don’t even know the half of it.”

You smiled a little, sensing both his eagerness and unease which you seemed to find charming, “It’s just me.” you reminded.

He nodded quickly, “Yeah, yeah I know…” he said as he hesitantly rested his hands upon your arms, as if to help steady himself. “I just…I don’t know what m’ doin.” he admitted a bit sheepishly.

“I know,” you reassured, “I’ll show you…you trust me?”

He nodded again, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage as he grew more anxious by the second. Not because of her, but because of the unknown. But it was clear he was in good hands. “I trust you.”

With his simple nod of approval, you reached up to gently grasp the back of his neck, before pulling him down to meet you halfway where your lips clashed together. He gasped quietly against your mouth, the softness of your lips already addicting as his hands instinctively squeezed your arms, wanting to keep himself grounded. The taste of you was better than he ever could’ve imagined, heavenly, unreal…but what else did he expect from someone as perfect as you? As the kiss deepened, you slowly coaxed his mouth open so you could slip in your tongue, his groan in response to you only encouraged you to keep going. His kiss was hesitant and a bit sloppy, though you couldn’t help but love it.

Your free hand moved up to his wrist, guiding his hand down toward your hip as if silently encouraging him to touch you. Daryl received the message loud and clear, but he was still a bit clueless when it came to how, slowly allowing his hand to roam the curve of your back blindly. He then pulled you a bit closer to him, wanting to feel every part of you against his skin. But with his swift movement, caused his towel to nearly slip all the way off his waist, feeling him quickly grab it before it had the chance to hit the ground. 

He cursed quietly as he pulled away from your mouth, his breathing coming out in short, harsh pants as he grew a bit flushed at the idea of being completely naked in front of you. You allowed him to collect himself for as long as he needed, noticing the red that dusted his cheeks, but you still didn’t miss the blatant lust that filled his eyes.

Your hand reached up to gently brush some hair away from his face, “You don’t have to be embarrassed around me.” you spoke so softly, so patiently, leaving a few kisses on his cheek as if to help ease him.

He sighed shakily, trying to gather himself as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the feel of your touch, “I know, just…never been this exposed in front of anyone before.”

“I know,” you assured again, your mouth traveling to gently nip at his earlobe, “How about we move to your room? And you can take it off when you’re ready.”

Daryl hissed softly as your teeth grazed his ear, nodding frantically at your suggestion, “Okay…yeah.” he said breathlessly before taking your hand to guide you back down the hallway.

In a flash he had taken you into his room, shutting and locking the door behind the two of you before you gestured for him to sit down on the edge of his bed. He followed your suggestion without saying a word, willing to do just about anything you wanted right now with how incredibly turned on he was. Though he was extremely nervous, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted you, how many times he had imagined himself in situations much like this one. Completely at your mercy.

His eyes followed your movements as you came to stand in between his legs, cupping his face to angle it up toward you. “Just relax.” you whispered before slowly kissing him again with a little more force than before.

This time he couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat, feeling the smoothness of your skin on his aging cheeks, his body physically shuttering. His hands reached out to pull you closer to his bare chest, wanting your body flush against him as his touch seemed to roam a bit more confidently. You felt his hands travel down to squeeze your ass, groaning into your mouth as your tongue invaded his mouth to taste him again. At this point he couldn’t help but wonder if this was a dream, or some kind of sick hallucination, his mind tricking his body that this was actually happening with how fast they seemed to move. But he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care right now.

You smiled against his lips as he gently groped your ass, your hands moving up towards his hair to give the roots a gentle tug as your mouths worked frantically. A shiver ran down his spine, the action making his head spin. You were so good with him, so gentle yet so firm as well. He couldn’t stop himself from breaking away from your mouth briefly, his lips moving down your neck as if he wanted to trace and memorize every last bit of your skin.

You sighed softly as your head instinctively tilted back for him, “You sure you’re a virgin? You seem pretty good at this.” you teased lightheartedly.

Chuckling against your skin, he took his time to kiss the underside of your jaw a few times before responding roughly, “Just have a good imagination is all…”

“You’ve thought about this before?”

He nodded a bit timidly against your neck, growing a bit shy at the admission, “A lot, actually…”

A smile broke out onto your face as you looked down at him, “Well, now I’m even more flattered.”

He groaned in slight embarrassment as he buried his face in the side of your neck, the words just slipping out without him being able to stop. His mind was too far in the clouds to realize fully, the lingering effects of the weed he had smoked making his mind a bit hazier. But he desperately wanted to remember every little detail, his hands trailing down toward your thighs as if he was itching to memorize your body.

“Here...” you then spoke again, moving his hands up toward the buttons of your blouse, “Help me out.”

Daryl looked back up at you with slightly widened eyes, swallowing thickly as he gave a shaky nod, beginning to undo them one by one. His calloused hands, though rough, couldn’t have been more gentle when it came to touching you. He treated every part of your skin like it was delicate glass, a piece of art to admire, as he almost didn’t feel worthy of being in this position. How could he have gotten so lucky when this was the last thing he thought he deserved.

“Keep going,” you encouraged when you felt your top fall to the floor, feeling his hands hesitantly move to unzip your skirt.

The piece of fabric slowly slid down your smooth legs and bunched at your feet, leaving you in practically nothing as you believed bras were a waste of time and effort to wear. His eyes took in every inch of you, mentally trying to capture this moment as he was already reluctant for it to end. And yet it hardly even started.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispered as his hands reached out to touch you again, his face filled with desperation.

You smiled as you looked down at him, “Yeah?”

He nodded instantly, “Yeah…I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

A laugh escaped your lips as you leaned down to be aligned with his face, “We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” you said sweetly before leaving a kiss on his cheek.

Daryl let out a breath as you kissed his cheek, the reminder that this was far from over was almost reassuring. His growing need and want was beginning to be unbearable, his hands gripping your thighs a bit tighter as he felt his erection start to ache.

“You wanna take that off for me?”

Upon hearing your request, the gesture of your hand that pointed toward the towel still around his hips, he grew a bit anxious. It was no secret that he was a bit insecure with the way he looked, he was older, his hair and beard a bit graying, his skin worn and scarred. He knew he was about to be fully vulnerable with you, that being both a good and a bad thing. He did trust you, but he just hoped you liked how he looked despite the fact that he didn’t.

It took a moment for him to build up the courage, to which you were incredibly patient, before he finally pulled the towel off of him, leaving him completely bare in front of you. But your reaction was far from a negative one. Your eyes widened a little as you took him in, not being able to see his flaws he was so worried about as you were solely focused on how breathtaking he looked. His arms could’ve been sculpted by gods, his toned chest rising and falling with every heaving breath, and as your gaze traveled south, you were shocked at the bragging rights he seemed to hold. 

But the thing you wanted him to know the most, was that he was just as perfect to you as you were to him.

Though seeing his pleading expression seemed to stir something inside you, quickly slipping off your thong before stepping forward to straddle his hips in a fit of impatience. His eyes widened at your fast actions, but he wasn’t about to complain, his hands immediately going to your hips to hold to in place as he loved the feel of your skin against his. He didn’t know what to do now exactly, but he did know that he wanted more of you.

“You’re so handsome.” you praised, your mouth coming down to suck softly on the side of his neck. "So perfect for me."

A small gasp escaped him at your praise, your mouth working against his skin caused him to nearly melt beneath you. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but handsome and perfect were never one of them. It was new, different…and he loved it. He soaked up everything he could like a sponge, wanting to ravish in your touch forever. But when he felt you begin to rock against him, stroking his length with every pass of your hips, he couldn’t help the strangled moan he dared to let out. His hips instinctively bucked up against you in return, unable to help himself as he craved more than what you were giving him. All he could feel was his heart racing, his skin burning up, and his dick twitching as he physically needed more. His face nuzzled in the side of your neck, breathing you in as shivers of pleasure ran through him like currents of electricity.

You hummed, “You like that?” you asked, your mouth hovering over the shell of his ear where your teeth grazed his sensitive skin.

Daryl nodded his head frantically against you, losing himself in the lust he had never felt before in his entire life, “Yes…yes, I like it.” he stuttered out desperately, gripping onto you as a signal not to stop anytime soon.

He had never felt so good, the rhythm mixed with your kisses and taunting praise, he felt he could’ve imploded right then and there. He wanted more, his body craved more of you, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. His breathing was ragged at this point as he tried to hold himself back, his face still hidden in the crook of your neck as his lips began to place soft kisses against your skin. But as your pace grew more tortuous and slow, he couldn’t help but writhe and moan beneath you, not being able to take much more of your teasing.

You felt him pull back to look up at you, a distressed look painting his face, “Please.” he nearly whined. It was a tone you had never heard from him before, finding that you loved the way he was falling apart for you.

“Please what, honey?” you asked sweetly as if you didn’t already know, cupping the sides of his face, “Tell me what you want.”

A soft whimper escaped him in your agony, knowing damn well you knew what he meant. He looked up at you pleadingly, the smooth skin of your hands on his face feeling so good, but not good enough. “You…” he whispered needily, “I want you…please.” he begged.

Whilst he was beneath you, whimpering and pleading for you to fuck him, you on the other hand learned something new about yourself. The scene that played before you was something sinful, but you loved it far too much to feel even a little bit guilty. The burly man you had come to know as tough and stoic, just whimpered because of you. And for that, you had no choice but to give him what he so desperately needed.

In an instant you slowly sunk down onto his length, the size of him causing a moan of your own to escape through parted lips. Though Daryl on the other hand groaned loudly as he felt your tight walls enveloping him, his head falling back as he bit his lower lip in an attempt to silence the noises you threatened to pull from him with one simple move. It felt like he had just walked through the pearly gates of heaven, the feeling so surreal and pleasurable he couldn’t help but let it cross his mind.

As you adjusted to him, you looked down and studied his face, his brow already lined with sweat and his expression one of pure bliss. “You look so good like this.” you whispered, your finger gently tracing his jawline.

He wanted to scoff at your comment, thinking that he no doubt looked like a mess in front of you, but he couldn’t help but feel prideful at the thought of you loving it. It made him feel good, perhaps more confident even though he was fully flushed and exposed.

Though as he felt you begin to move, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and a low moan left him in response, feeling the heat in his stomach already beginning to build. His hands moved from your hips down to your thighs as if to encourage you to keep going, giving them a firm squeeze as he panted to try and catch his breath. He felt as if he were going insane with the waves of pleasure washing down upon him, the feeling like no other as he knew he was a goner from the moment you agreed. His head was spinning though he tried to concentrate, not wanting it to ever come to an end as he watched you steadily pick up the pace from above him.

His mind was lost on him as your movements quickened skillfully, his hips pathetically trying to match your pace though he was failing miserably. But he didn’t care. It felt too good to care. His fingers nearly dug into the soft skin of your thighs as he whimpered and squirmed, feeling himself already starting to chase his high. He felt a little embarrassed that it had taken him close to nothing to reach his peak, but then again, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop.

Daryl grew desperate to say something, to warn you that he was getting more and more overwhelmed with the feeling of ecstasy, though he wasn’t able to form any coherent sentence. All that managed to come out were pathetic whines and moans as he desperately tried to pound into you, looking up at you with widened eyes in hopes you would get the message.

And you did. You understood completely. With a simple kiss on his lips and encouraging words, you let him know that it was okay. “I know, honey, I know.” you said sweetly, “Let go for me.”

He whimpered against you lips when you kissed him, hearing your words made him feel a bit more at ease as he felt himself just on the brink of losing all control he had left. But he couldn’t help the way you were making him feel. With his mind beginning to cloud and the desperate movements he made, he finally felt himself release deep inside you, burying his face in your neck as he came. You slowed down your pace a bit as you guided him through his high, trying to make it last as long as possible for him as he just gripped and thrusted into you harder. Near sobs began spilling from his lips as he clung onto your limbs, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths as his body was practically vibrating.

He hadn't meant to be this much of a mess, completely falling apart from underneath you as he chased his high so desperately. But with how unbelievable you made him feel, it was like he had no control over the noises he made t or the emotions he felt. Like you had complete control. And he loved it more than he was willing to admit.

It took him a while to come back down to earth, but you waited patiently the whole time, running your fingers through his tangled mess of hair as he collected his hazy thoughts. Though he couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed and a bit vulnerable, knowing he didn’t last as long as he would’ve hoped. When he finally gathered the courage to look you in the eye, he feared your reaction, as if he expected you to regret what just happened.

But instead you smiled, “You okay?” you asked gently.

All he managed was a small nod in response, letting out a breath as it was clear you weren’t upset in the slightest. But as his mind wandered a bit, he began to feel selfish, realizing he couldn’t make you feel as good as you made him feel. Leaving him overthinking the things he could’ve done differently.

“I’m sorry.” he then whispered gravely.

Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “For what?”

He blushed a bit with embarrassment, almost not wanting to explain his reasoning for speaking up in the first place. But your gaze remained expectant, and he knew he should answer. “For not…makin ya feel good.” he said sheepishly.

“Hey…” you said softly as you titled his head up to look at you, “You did make me feel good.”

The truth was you enjoyed yourself, even if you didn’t finish, you didn’t care. He was still new at this, and that wasn’t something you were about to shame him for.

He grew a little surprised at your admission, “But…you didn’t…” he trailed off, almost not wanting to say it out loud.

You smiled a little at his lack of words, “It was your first time, Daryl. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” you said, kissing his cheek reassuringly.

He sighed, “I know…but I wanna make ya feel good too.” he tried to explain.

“You will,” you nodded, “Practice makes perfect, right?” you said with a small wink.

He perked right up at that, the idea of doing this again with you hadn’t even crossed his mind. He assumed it would only be a one time thing, but hearing you say that sent a spark of excitement through him.

“So…there’ll be a next time?” he asked, trying to hide his hopefulness.

You laughed softly, “Only if you want there to be.”

He quickly nodded, he would have to be an absolute fool to say no to something like that. “Course I do…I want ya…as many times as you’ll let me have ya.”

Your smile widened as you leaned in to kiss him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to bring him flush against you. He groaned softly as his hands danced across your back, suddenly feeling very grateful. He almost couldn’t believe someone as kind and understanding would actually want him, but he couldn’t bring himself to question it for very long. Just simply wanting to live in the moment and not take it for granted.

“Wanna go again?” you asked against his lips.

“Mhm.” he hummed immediately as he deepened the kiss, his response not having any hint of hesitation. It made you laugh softly, feeling him already getting excited all over again. It was safe to say it was going to be an eventful night.

~ Thanks for reading!

[giannaln4]

Silly Little Bet

lando norris x artist!reader

summary: You were an artist and Lando loved to do what you did best with you, even if he wasn't very good at it. (917 words)

warnings: this turns into a make out (not heavy, very short), use of y/n

a/n: hi lovelies! i know i said i was going to take a little break, but honestly i just need to not think about quali today (still crying about it idk what to tell you). anyway, this is incredibly short so i’m sorry but i still hope you enjoy it! pls let me know what you think!! feedback is very much appreciated 🫶🏻 i also wanted to thank everyone who reached out to me and sent support ❤️‍🩹 ily all so much, i really appreciate it!!

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Quiet nights were your absolute favourites. Getting to spend time with your boyfriend without having to worry about some schedule one of you had to stick to was perfect, to say the least. You always found a way to occupy yourselves, doing anything and nothing at the same time. 

Tonight, though, you got to do one of your favourite activities: art. You were an artist, a professional one, and of course he loved that about you; he loved seeing you in your element, so focused on what you did best, and even though he didn’t know yet, you loved dragging him with you so you could see him struggle a bit to at least not be the worst artist the world has ever seen.

Now, he was extremely talented, and if he weren’t a racer, he would be somewhat of an artist; he’s said it himself many times, but that was before he met you, because compared to you, he would never say that about himself, no matter how many times you have said it to him. 

Right now, you found yourselves sitting on your shared bed, facing each other, trying to win a silly little bet you made earlier. It was simple, really. You were supposed to draw the other person, and whoever loses would have to come up with a plan for dinner, which the both of you already knew would end up being a homemade meal, eating it on the couch, and watching some dumb show. This really worked out for him because, as talented as he was, he still struggled to draw real people, and he knew he was setting himself up when he accepted.

You knew that too, and you also knew he only gave in so he could have another one of your drawings of him. But that was okay, because another one of your favourite things was to admire his focused expression while he tried to replicate someone on a blank piece of paper. 

If he was being completely honest, the top reason he loved doing some type of art with you was because you would always come up to him and help with something, holding and guiding his hand or just being really close to his face as you explained something, so he would never say no to that suggestion.

“Okay, so I do you and you do me. Do I have to paint it as well?” He asked as you poured some of your art supplies on the bed.

“No, just a quick sketch,” you replied, scanning the bed as you carefully chose the pencil you wanted to use. “I’m starving, anyway.”

You started sketching each other; you were faster (and probably better) than him, but you couldn’t help but blush any time his eyes fixated on your face for too long, studying every aspect of you to try to draw it. After several minutes, you were done, just finishing up a few details before placing the paper on the bedside table next to you, away from him so he wouldn’t see it yet.

“How is it going?” You asked.

He looked up at you and yelled, “Don’t move!” When you started to get up.

"Sorry,” you whispered, going back to your previous position.

You stayed like that for a while, watching as Lando looked at you repeatedly and then back at the paper, occasionally erasing stuff. He was almost done, but there was one thing holding him back. “I can’t get it right,” he sighed, dropping the pencil.

“What can’t you get right?”

“Your lips. They look too big or too small, and now the paper looks worn out from erasing so much.” He was clearly frustrated.

“Can I see it?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” Lando asked you with an embarrassed look.

“Of course I’m not going to laugh; why would I do that?”

“You are a real artist, Y/N. You finished a while ago, and I’ve been stuck here trying to fix it, but I’ve only made it worse.”

“Lando, you are actually talented; I don’t make you do art with me because I wanna have a laugh. C’mon, show me.”

He sighed again and slowly turned the paper, showing you the drawing. “It looks terrible.”

Your eyes set on the paper, and an endeared smile appeared on your face. “It looks great, baby.”

"No, it doesn’t; as I said, you’re an artist, and you know exactly what’s wrong with it.”

“I mean it." You whispered, leaving your spot on the bed and sitting next to him, “Maybe the proportions are a bit off, but it does look great, I promise.”

“Thanks,” he replied with a smile, a moment of silence filling the room as you both stared at the drawing. “You know, maybe I just need to take a closer look at them.”

“Oh- I guess that would be helpful." You turned your body to face him, cupping his cheek and brushing away a few curls that rested on his forehead. “Do you want help?”

He nodded and broke the distance between you, locking his lips with yours as he pulled you onto his lap and his hands fell on your hips to intensify the kiss. You got closer and closer, pausing when your bodies couldn’t possibly get any closer to each other even if you tried.

“You know I can actually help you,” you said against his lips and in between kisses.

“Uh huh” Lando replied, not really thinking about the drawing anymore.

[min-imum]

part 1

nsfw, mdni

content warnings: this is part 2!!! part 1 linked above, gn!reader, lingerie, mingyu has a big dick (everyone act surprised), light bondage…?, unprotected sex (sounds nice in theory but it’s not in practice. wrap your willy don’t be silly), a little bit of crying!, ummmmm

mingyu hurries out of the building at 5.59pm. he pretends he doesn’t hear seungcheol hyung screaming for him from the second floor and books it — his goal is to get home as fast as he can.

it’s just one minute, seungcheol hyung won’t be that mad about it… hopefully.

when mingyu bursts through the door, hair disheveled, bag thrown haphazardly over one shoulder, clutching his phone in a death grip, you’re lazing around on the couch.

In That Damn Lingerie.

well, not just the lingerie — you’re also wearing a sheer little robe over it, and if anything, it just makes mingyu even harder in his pants.

you bounce up to him to greet him with a smile, but before you can even offer to take his bag off him, he drops it onto the floor and grabs you by the hips to pull you into a bruising kiss.

“shit, baby,” he moans. “it was torture waiting for work to be over. you’re such a minx.”

you giggle, letting him run his hands over your body with a crazed look in his eye. “just wanted to give you a little present while you were at work.”

he doesn’t know what to touch, his hands roaming everywhere across your body. he starts from your hips, then moves down to grope your ass, then slides them back up to run his palms over your chest. you whimper and arch into his touch.

“gyu,” you moan. he hums, kissing along the length of your neck from your ear to your collarbones. you grab his biceps for support as he sucks harder and leaves marks to replace the fading ones from a few days ago.

“dolled up all for me?” he asks in a low voice. you both know the answer, but he wants to hear you say it.

“yes,” you gasp. “all for you, gyu.”

he lifts you up easily and carries you to the bedroom, laying you down on soft sheets and kissing you again. his lips are reddened and bruised from the kissing and you have no doubt you look the same.

when he finally finds it in him to peel away from you, he leans back and tugs his shirt over his head. his body never fails to make you squirm — the defined lines between his pecs and outlining every one of his abs are testament to the strength contained in his body.

he peels off his pants next, and the length straining against his boxers makes you drool. this is what you’ve been craving all day.

“gyu,” you whine. “touch me.”

he kisses you again as he helps you out of your robe. as much as he loves it, it’s getting in the way. his eyes roam your body, now clad in just the red lingerie from earlier, appreciatively. the pictures are nothing compared to the real thing.

“you don’t know what you do to me,” he grunts. “the pictures earlier, and now this…”

you’re absolutely gorgeous. the red compliments your skin tone and matches the flush on your cheeks. seeing you wear his favourite colour makes the blood rush down to his dick embarrassingly quickly. he groans as his cock, still confined in his underwear, brushes against the bed.

however, he’s been staring for a little too long, and you’re getting impatient. you spread your legs and pull your bottoms to the side.

“i prepared myself already,” you tell him. “fuck me, please, gyu. i need it. i’ve been waiting for you all day.”

you’re going to kill him.

“okay, baby. fuck.” he exhales harshly as he finally removes his boxers. his cock springs up, engorged and painfully hard, and he hisses as he strokes it once, twice, with a lubed hand.

he slaps the tip of his cock against your hole, teasing, making you whine — a bit of payback for the suffering he had to endure after you sent him your present.

“gyu, stop teasing,” you beg. “just put it—”

he grabs both your wrists and presses them to the mattress above your head, then slides his cock into you in one smooth stroke. your mouth snaps open in a silent scream.

no matter how many times you’ve taken his cock, he’ll always stretch you good.

“keep your hands here, baby,” he instructs.

you nod obediently, and he releases your wrists to hoist your legs over his shoulders instead, and then he fucks you like he means it.

every thrust stretches you out deliciously, making you moan in stuttered little ah-ah-ahs as he fucks you relentlessly. tears slip out of your eyes in pleasure, but you keep your arms above your head like he instructed, fingers twisting harshly in the sheets.

above you, mingyu groans in pleasure at the tight heat around his cock. “shit, baby,” he pants. “you feel so good.”

your eyes roll back in lieu of a reply as his cock hammers at your spot. you babble incoherently, unable to form words.

“so pretty for me. so good.” he praises.

“g— cum, cum,” you whimper. “gonna…”

“cum for me.”

you orgasm with a scream, your warmth tightening around his cock so hard it makes his hips stutter. he looks down at you, tears running down your face, hair splayed out on your pillow, lingerie rumpled. he thrusts into you thrice more before he comes with a curse and a groan. his face twists in pleasure as he empties into you and fills you up with his cum.

mingyu holds you tight for a few moments before letting you go and pulling out slowly. his cum leaks out of you from around his cock.

“don’t move, baby.”

he grabs his phone, then snaps pictures of your disheveled state — your flushed face, your bruised neck, your crumpled lingerie, and his semen leaking out of you. “you look so pretty like this,” he tells you.

this is premium jack-off material for the next time he has to go on tour without you.

finally satisfied with his pictures, he starts to clean you up thoroughly with a wet cloth. you let him remove your lingerie for you to add to your laundry pile. he slumps down on the bed next to you once he’s done and giggles when he finds you already asleep.

“goodnight, my love,” he whispers anyway, kissing your forehead and pulling you close to him. you snuggle into his chest, seeking his warmth even while asleep, and he wraps an arm around you protectively.

he falls asleep with you, safe and satisfied, in his arms.

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

love, lies, and first times

Summary: You were made to believe that your girlfriend, Hazel Callahan, lost her virginity to Stella-Rebecca some years ago. But when the truth is revealed during a game of truth or dare, your trust in her is shattered. What reason did she have to lie, and who did she actually lose her virginity to?

Pairing: loser!virgin!hazel x experienced!reader

Contains: mature language and content, lies, smut, fingering, oral, first time, kissing, drinking, tit play, both receiving, both giving, loser!hazel, sub!hazel, biblically!accurate!hazel, reader isn’t described as fem or masc

Word Count: 6k

A/N: soo one of my pet peeves when reading a hazel fic is when hazel keeps her rings on when fingering the reader and the reader likes it? Listen, I lost my virginity to someone who accidentally kept their rings on and it was painful. I had to ask them to take them off, highly unpleasant. I kinda make fun of that here, I hope some of y’all are ready to get called tf out ;)

“Hazel, truth or dare?”

You squeezed your girlfriend’s hand as PJ sent her a wicked grin. The senior class of the Rockbridge Fight Club had just graduated high school, and the club leaders, PJ and Josie, had decided to celebrate by throwing a party—one last ‘hurrah’ for the founding members. Now, you all sat in a circle in Josie’s dim basement, sipping poorly mixed jungle juice from red solo cups while David Fincher movies played on a vintage television in the background. Truth or dare was, of course, PJ’s idea—perhaps in the hopes that someone would dare her to kiss Brittany.

Hazel returned your squeeze, the cool metal of her rings pressing against your warm skin. “Truth,” she answered.

PJ’s lips curled into such a shit-eating grin, you began to wonder if maybe she really did eat ‘literal shit.’ “Who did you lose your virginity to?”

You smiled, already knowing the answer. Early into dating, you and Hazel had exchanged ‘first-time’ stories: yours had been with some girl at summer camp when you were sixteen, and Hazel had confessed to experimenting with Stella-Rebecca freshman year. She stressed that it was nothing romantic, simply two friends getting their first times out of the way, and then swore you to secrecy for the sake of Stella-Rebecca’s privacy. However, Stella-Rebecca was sitting right there, and you doubted she would appreciate Hazel exposing their previous affair to the entire group.

Sure enough, Hazel’s eyes widened as a blush crept upon her cheeks. “Uhhh…”

Her hand seemed to stiffen within yours, tightening its hold as her rings indented your skin. You glanced across the circle at Stella-Rebecca, who stared at Hazel with an expectant (and somewhat oblivious) smile.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you murmured to Hazel in an attempt to calm her, but her grip only further constricted.

PJ rolled her eyes. “Come on, Hazel, I gave you an easy one. Everyone knows you probably lost it to her,” she gestured towards you.

It was your turn to blush. “Actually, uh…” you looked towards your girlfriend, who seemed to have lost her ability to speak. “We haven’t really, uh…”

PJ gasped as her eyes almost popped out of her head. “No way! You two haven’t jacked each other off yet?”

It was true, you and Hazel had yet to take your relationship to that level. Not like you didn’t try, you had been dating for months, but Hazel seemed to shy away every time you so much as slipped a hand up her shirt. You knew you shouldn’t pressure her, but you were beginning to feel a bit unattractive—after all, Hazel had lost her virginity to a model. How could you possibly compare to that?

Josie, ever the peacemaker, decided to chime in. “Ok PJ, let’s back off a little bit…”

Hazel seemed to relax a bit at Josie’s words. She eased her grip, and you heard her exhale a breath you didn’t know she was holding.

“I have to admit, I’m a little curious myself.” Stella-Rebecca interjected, taking you by surprise. “Hazel never talks about her sex life.”

Your face contorted in confusion. Hazel tensed up again, but your attention was focused on the girl sitting across from you. “What are you talking about?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, sometimes we’ll be hanging out and the topic of sex will come up, and I’ll share some hookup story and she’ll just kind of… change the subject or something.”

There it was again, that familiar burn of envy like acid in your veins. “Maybe she’s jealous,” you suggested, words unintentionally dripping with venom.

Stella-Rebecca furrowed her brow, her expression innocent. “I doubt Hazel would be jealous of my sex life… unfortunately, it has more men than I think either of us would prefer.”

”Well, you were her first.”

“What?!” Stella-Rebecca exclaimed, her jaw dropping in shock. PJ cackled maniacally, clearly having the time of her life.

Hazel’s hand was clamped so tightly around yours that her knuckles were white, but you barely noticed as you stayed fixated on Stella-Rebecca. “I mean… yeah… weren’t you?”

Stella-Rebecca furiously shook her head. “Hazel and I have known each other our whole lives, but never like that. Besides, I didn’t come out as a lesbian until after you two started dating. Why did you think it was me?”

You felt like a complete moron. “I don’t know…” you muttered, glaring at your girlfriend. She refused to meet your gaze, staring down at her lap while shades of crimson painted her features. Her hand was still clasped around yours, but you forcibly removed it, too hurt to want to be touched.

“Ok, so, Hazel’s a prude. Glad we got that out of the way.” PJ sneered.

Josie reached over and smacked her arm. “So are you, PJ. Hypocrite.”

“I am not a prude, I’m a virgin.” PJ corrected. “There’s a difference.”

The game continued once the tension died down. No one dared PJ to kiss Brittany, so when it was her turn again, she took it upon herself to dare Brittany to kiss her, which the poor girl blatantly refused. After that, PJ pretty much lost interest and the game dissipated, with everyone breaking the circle to go off and do their own things. Josie and Isabel were tucked away in a corner, failing to be discreet during a heated makeout session. PJ had joined Brittany on the couch, while Brittany sipped her drink and scrolled through her phone, trying to ignore Pj’s passes. The rest of the girls, including Hazel, huddled in front of the small television, chatting through the David Fincher movies. You, however, stayed back in an attempt to avoid your girlfriend.

“How could she lie to me like that?” You asked Brittany, plopping down on the couch between her and PJ. Rolling her eyes, PJ got up and left the basement, retreating upstairs for whatever reason.

Brittany seemed grateful for your company (and relieved at PJ’s disappearance). “I don’t know, babe,” she said, slinging her arm around you and pulling you close. “I’m sure she had a good reason.”

You groaned pathetically, resting your head on her shoulder. “I can’t think of any.”

Brittany leaned down and kissed the top of your head, sympathetic to your feelings. You glanced over to the television area and saw Hazel staring back at you, watching your interaction with Brittany. She looked sad, not jealous, just sad. Those big blue eyes that would look at you with so much love were now pained, filled with remorse. She sort of resembled a kicked puppy, and every instinct in your body told you to run over and hold her, comfort her, before you remembered why you were angry in the first place.

Before you could force yourself to break your shared gaze, PJ suddenly came bumbling down the stairs again, holding an empty beer bottle. “Look what I found in the kitchen trash!” She exclaimed, commanding the room’s attention.

Josie shook her head in disbelief. “Why were you in my trash?”

“Doesn’t matter! Now we can play ‘seven minutes in heaven!’” PJ declared, moving to the middle of the room and gesturing for everyone to get the circle back together.

Brittany groaned, all too aware that this was just another one of PJ’s stunts to try and get with her. It was your turn to be sympathetic.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered to her. “If the bottle starts to land on you during PJ’s turn, I’ll intercept it.”

Brittany mouthed a ‘thank you’ before taking your hand and walking with you to join the circle. This time, you sat directly across from Hazel, as far away from her as possible. You could feel her sad puppy-dog eyes boring into you, but you refused to meet her gaze.

“Alright,” PJ asserted, rubbing her hands together. “If there’s no volunteers to go first…”

“I think our host should spin first.” Isabel interrupted, looking towards Josie with what could only be described as ‘fuck-me’ eyes.

Josie giggled as she took the bottle from a reluctant PJ and spun it in the center. Everyone watched with anticipation as the bottle slowed, almost stopping in front of Annie before Isabel grabbed it and pointed it towards herself.

“Wow, what a coincidence!” Isabel exclaimed, much to Josie’s amusement.

The two held hands and disappeared into the small coat closet under the basement stairs. PJ rolled her eyes. “It’s no fun if you pick your partners!” She yelled after them.

One thing about 'seven minutes in heaven’ that no one talks about is what the rest of the group does during the seven minutes. Do you talk? Keep playing? Listen in? You certainly didn’t know, and apparently neither did anyone else—with the exception of PJ, who set her phone timer before sitting with her ear pressed to the door.

“So… what’s everyone’s summer plans?” Stella-Rebecca asked in an attempt to fill the silence.

Annie shrugged in response. “Mostly working as a counselor for Vacation Bible School and protesting outside Planned Parenthood. Same old, same old.”

“Would you guys shut up over there?” PJ hissed from across the room. “I’m trying to listen to them fuck!”

Eventually, seven agonizing minutes finished with the screech of PJ’s timer. “Times up, lovebirds!” She shouted, throwing open the door.

The ‘lovebirds’ stumbled out of the closet in a fit of giggles. Both of their clothes were wrinkled, hair disheveled, and Isabel’s lipstick was smeared all over Josie’s mouth. The couple was immediately met with cheers and jeers from the rest of the party as they made their way back to the circle.

“Wow, thanks for warming up the closet for us you two,” PJ snickered. “Now, as for who’s next…”

“Hazel, why don’t you spin?” Isabel suggested, seizing the bottle before PJ could and passing it to Hazel.

“Oh, come on!” PJ complained, having been cockblocked yet again.

The group all shared a chuckle at PJ’s dismay, especially Brittany who was laughing so hard tears began to form. PJ could do nothing but pout until the laughter died down and Hazel reached into the center, spinning the bottle.

Round and round the bottle spun, the group watching with bated breath. The hollow glass rotated, nozzle slowing, slowing until it finally stopped on no other than… you. All previously dissipated tension immediately resurfaced as the room seemed to still, everyone recalling the incident from earlier.

“Yeah, you guys! Go in there and give us absolutely nothing!” PJ sneered, earning another smack on the arm from Josie.

You stared at the bottle, nozzle pointing directly at you, no question about it. Through your peripheral vision, you could see Hazel nervously fidgeting with her rings, unsure of how to proceed.

“Maybe we could… play something else?” Brittany suggested gently.

PJ clapped her hands together. “Nope! Rules are rules. Get in there, you two.” She seized your hands and dragged you to the closet, throwing both of you in before slamming the door.

Hazel kept her gaze fixated on her fidgeting hands while you pretended to be very interested in a small tear on one of the hanging coats. After what felt like an eternity, you checked your watch. Only twelve seconds had passed. You let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, one of us has to say something.”

She glanced towards the door. “How much do you wanna bet PJ is listening in on us?”

You shot her a glare, not finding her joke funny.

“I’m sorry…” Hazel muttered, lowering her head again.

At that moment, all of the hurt, anger, and confusion you had kept bottled up to save face rose to the surface. “Why would you lie to me?” You demanded, using her own line against her.

Her face crumpled upon hearing the true betrayal behind your question. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”

“Hazel, you lied about losing your virginity to Stella-Rebecca. That’s such an odd thing to lie about, it doesn’t make any sense…”

“Ok,” Hazel cut you off. “I didn’t have sex with Stella-Rebecca...”

“No shit,” you spat. “So what, you like, want to?”

“No!” Hazel insisted. “Stella and I are friends. I’ve never thought about her that way.”

“Then why have you had me believing you slept with her?” You hissed, a weak attempt to keep your voice down.

She was at it again, fiddling with those goddamned rings. “I don’t know, I just…” she swallowed, hesitating. “You told me about your first time… at summer camp… and you asked me about mine. We had just started dating. I didn’t want you to think I was inexperienced.”

“Hazel,” you sighed. “You are inexperienced.”

“I mean, like, I didn’t want you to see me as an immature little baby who didn’t know what she was doing, so I panicked and made something up. I shouldn’t have, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear.”

The edges of your anger blurred as you realized fear had driven your girlfriend to a desperate lie. Poor Hazel, she looked shrunken, almost. She had drawn into herself, vulnerability exposed like a house of cards in the wind. You reached out and gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at you and taking her by surprise.

“Hazel,” you cooed. “It’s ok that you’ve never had sex before, I don’t care.”

“Really?” She asked.

You nodded. “Of course I don’t care. I just thought you’d been pushing me away because you didn’t find me that attractive, but…”

“What?!” Hazel’s exclamation took you aback, making you drop your hand. “That’s not it at all! Shit, I was just worried I’d mess up somehow, I’ve never been more attracted to anyone in my entire life! I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. No, really! Every time I look at you, I’m like ‘holy fuck, how did I get so lucky…’”

You cut her off by crashing your lips against hers. Her body initially tensed at the sudden contact, but soon melted into yours as it had done so many times before. Your hands found the nape of her neck as you drew her closer, pressing her up against you as much as possible. Lip-locks with Hazel were familiar to you, but never had one been so passionate, so rough and yet reassuring at the same time.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were gasping to catch your breath, realizing you had inadvertently chosen each other over oxygen. You gazed upon Hazel, studying her flushed cheeks, her lustrous lips, and the way her shirt collar sat askew atop her shoulders. With the way she stared back, you could tell you appeared just as rumpled.

“Well that’s good to know,” you giggled, reaching out to fix her collar. “Listen, Hazel, you’re a virgin. So what? I don’t care who you have or haven’t been with before. If you’re not ready yet, that’s perfectly fine, really. I would never pressure you into anything.”

Back at it again with those fucking rings. What the hell could you have possibly said this time?

“That’s the thing…” she began, her gaze fixated to the floor again. “I think I… I think…”

“Hazel…” you whispered her name, placing two fingers on her arm and making her shiver.

“I… I think I am ready. I’ve been ready. For a little while now.”

Your eyes widened at her confession. “Seriously?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I want you… uh, I mean… I want to do it… with you. I just… I don’t… I don’t know how to…” each sputter was paired with imperceptible hand gestures, desperate to communicate something she didn’t have the words to say.

“To… initiate it?” You asked.

“Yes! That!” She sighed, thankful you knew her well enough to understand her babbles. “I mean, should it be planned? Spontaneous? Do I just walk up to you and say ‘hey I wanna have sex?’ Where do I do it? How? Can I just blurt it out of nowhere or does something have to be happening first? If so, then what?”

“Hazel…” she was rambling again. You placed your hands on both sides of her head, smoothing her hair. “There’s no right way to initiate it, trust me. You can just do whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

She met your gaze again, head still caught between your palms. There was something different behind her eyes, though, something besides remorse or even vulnerability. Her brilliant blue’s seemed darker somehow, almost… hungry. You finally caught on when she snuck a glance at your lips, and closed the distance between you.

This kiss was different from the last: still passionate, but gentler, lighter, as if you were exploring for the first time. Her hands found your waist, loosely gripping the fabric of your top. You reciprocated, running your thumb over the hem of her tank top and accidentally brushing over a patch of bare skin. She flinched at the unfamiliarity, and you pulled away.

“Are you ok?” You whispered, forehead pressed against hers. She nodded, half-lidded eyes not leaving your lips. “Can I…?” Your fingers hesitated just under her tank top, barely grazing the skin of her stomach. She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. For the first time in her life, she let her body do the talking as she pressed into you, capturing you in another kiss.

Slowly, surely, your fingers inched up the underside of her tank top. You took the time to trace little shapes into her skin, moving from her waist, to her stomach, to the underside of her rib cage. Her breath hitched with each new touch; Hazel had always been ticklish, but the way your fingertips danced along her torso made her shiver rather than squirm. As her comfortability levels grew, your hand traveled up, further, further…

“Holy shit, they were really gonna fuck!”

PJ’s grating voice startled you apart like an unwelcome infomercial in the dead of night. You glared at your intruder standing in the wide-open doorway, a wicked smirk plastered on her face. “Lose track of time?”

Hazel tugged at your wrists, and it wasn’t until that moment when you realized your hands were still under her tank top (much to PJ’s entertainment). With a mumbled apology, you detached yourself and helped her smooth out the fabric bunched around her ribs. Both of your faces were burning with a mixture of embarrassment and fluster.

“You could’ve knocked, you know…” Hazel muttered, watching the floor as she left the closet.

“I could’ve,” PJ admitted. “But where’s the fun in that?”

The rest of the party watched with amusement as you and Hazel exited the closet. Your flushed features and darting glances did not go unnoticed, prompting a series of snorts and stifled laughter. Forget David Fincher, you two were your own movie.

“So, I assume it’s safe to say you’ve made up?” Josie asked cheekily, squeezing Isabel’s hand, who bit the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing.

“We sure did,” you said with a sheepish grin.

Brittany couldn’t help but snicker. “Guess that explains your rosy cheeks.”

You exchanged looks with Hazel as an idea suddenly popped into your head. “Actually, Hazel’s cheeks are warm because she doesn’t feel too good.”

“I don’t?” Hazel asked.

“You don’t,” you repeated, shooting her a look. “In fact, oh my, I do feel warm! We must be coming down with something.”

“Wait, but I don’t feel…” Hazel seemed confused until she met your gaze and understood your plan. She raised her hand to her forehead, making a big show of collapsing into the basement wall. “Oh, woe is me! It is true! I seem to have fallen ill! Cough, cough, wheeze!”

You had to fight the corners of your mouth to keep from curling. Jesus, this girl couldn’t act for shit.

“Yes… anyway we need to leave. Right now. We don’t want to get any of you sick.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s the reason,” Josie sent you a knowing smirk.

You grabbed Hazel’s hand and ran with her up the stairs and out of the basement, the partygoers calling after you with whoops, hollers, and exaggerated kissing sounds. As the basement door creaked shut behind you, the last thing you heard was PJ’s whiny complaint. “No fair! Hazel gets pussy before I do?”

The two of you rushed hand-in-hand from Josie’s front door and piled into Hazel’s car, you in the passenger seat as usual.

She turned to you, keeping her free hand on the wheel. “Are your parents home?”

“They never are.”

Hazel had to release your hand to put her car in reverse, pulling out of the driveway like a madwoman. You anticipated her fingers intertwining with yours again, but instead, she reached over and rested her hand on your upper thigh. Her thumb gently brushed across the denim of your jeans, sending flutters through your stomach. Hazel was getting bold.

The drive back to your house was nothing but perilous. Hazel had always been a reckless driver, but the sharp turns and disregarded stop signs were wild even for her. Arriving at your house, she parked haphazardly, jumping out before rushing to throw open your door.

“Well that was fast,” you teased as Hazel helped you out of the car. “Looking forward to something?”

Words seemed to fail her as she silently took your face in her hands, kissing you with the desperation of a castaway grasping for a lifeline. She had you pressed into the passenger door, hips flush against yours. Your palms rested on her collarbone, feeling her rapid heartbeat.

You gently pushed her away, almost swearing you heard the faintest whimper leave her lips. “Why don’t we take this inside?” You suggested, to which Hazel could only nod.

The two of you stumbled into your house, barely taking the time to break away from each other to see where you were going. When you eventually made it to your bedroom, you slammed the door behind you and Hazel thrust you against the white wood. You relaxed into her, expecting more kisses, but looked up to find her features filled with apprehension.

“Hazel…” you whispered, moving your hands to her shoulders. “Is everything ok?”

“Y-yeah…” she stuttered, her gaze dropping slightly. She had seized you by the hips, fingers hooked in your belt loops, hands beginning to tremble.

You gently lifted her jaw. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? It’s ok if you changed your mind…”

“No! No, please. I need you so bad you have no idea…” she cut you off, her confession making you blush. “I just… I don’t… I mean… I’ve watched some porn and read fanfiction but…”

“Hazel, sex isn’t anything like porn or fanfiction.”

“Oh fuck, it isn’t?” She asked in disbelief, her wide eyes making you chuckle.

“Why don’t you let me lead, then?” You suggested, calming her with a tender kiss on her jawline. “Go lay down for me, yeah?”

Hazel did as she was told and moved to lie down on your pale-blue bedspread, a favorite of yours because you thought it matched her eyes. You stayed behind, stripping down to a bra and panties as Hazel watched with unblinking eyes.

“Relax, my love,” you purred, climbing onto the bed and hovering over her. You shifted, hips brushing against hers momentarily, causing Hazel’s eyelids to flutter and a sigh to leave her lips. A smirk crossed your face. “Sensitive, are we?”

Hazel could barely speak through her pathetic little whines. “P-please…”

You planted a sweet kiss on her lips before trailing down to her neck, exploring her soft skin, discovering unknown sensitive spots: her earlobe, the nape of her jaw, along her collarbone. Your fingers flitted underneath the hem of her tank top, creeping up, up, until you felt the cool nylon of her sports bra against your palm. Hazel shuddered at the newfound sensation, and you pulled back.

“Still good?”

“Good,” she breathed. “Yes, good.”

You hooked your finger under the neck of her tank top, coaxing her to sit up slightly. Pinching her shirt collar, you slid it off her shoulders before lifting the bottom of her tank, stopping with it bunched under her armpits. She finished the job for you, and you tossed the shirts aside, not caring where they landed.

Now she was left in a sports bra the color of fog, her nipples erect and poking through the fabric. You slipped two fingers under her band, looking to her for approval. She nodded, letting you peel it off until her tits sprang free.

“Holy shit, Haze,” you muttered, practically drooling at the sight of her naked breasts. Underneath the compressive sports bras, hidden beneath layers of baggy clothing, Hazel had perfect tits: round, firm, with little pink buds sitting like cherries on top of two scoops of vanilla ice cream. “How could you keep these from me?”

Hazel let out a laugh that sounded more like a breath, not entirely sure how to respond. Leaning down, you took one of the swollen buds in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while palming her other breast. Hazel threw her head back against the pillow, letting out cries of pleasure while her hands entangled themselves in your hair. You took your time, caressing, suckling, exploring every inch of her bare chest, memorizing each unique detail: a freckle on her décolletage, a vaguely mushroom-shaped birthmark hidden beneath her left breast.

She was, for lack of a better word, perfect. You had been so distracted, so deeply buried in her cleavage, that you hadn’t noticed time slipping away until you felt her pressing down on your head. Your name flew from her mouth in a desperate gasp. “I can’t… p-please… keep going…”

“So impatient,” you teased, mouth releasing her nipple with a pop. Hazel only whined in response, bucking against your stomach, hips urgently searching for some kind of release. You smirked, leaving her breasts and peppering kisses down her stomach, stopping when you reached the waistband of her gym shorts.

“Off?” You asked, though it was merely a formality at this point; you already knew the answer. She made a noise of approval, a mix between a groan and a squeak, and shifted her hips to allow you to slip them off her legs.

Now, there stood nothing between you two but the thin cotton of her slate-colored boxers. She was writhing, silently begging you to rip them off and have at her, but you couldn’t help but stop and admire the growing spot of wetness that had accumulated through the fabric. Her hips sputtered, shook, pairing with her pitiful whimpers to plead for attention. You, however, had other plans.

“What’s your rush, Haze? We’ve got all night, don’t we?” You were teasing her now, a wicked grin appearing as your fingertips danced along the elastic band of her boxers.

Her raised pelvis came crashing down onto the bedspread as she cried out in defeat. “Fuck… please… just take them off…”

You frowned, mocking her, using your thumb to gently encircle her clothed cunt. Her head sank further into the pillow, broken moans falling out of her mouth like beads from a shattered necklace.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Hazel. Do you always get this wet?” You asked in disbelief. Her boxers felt like a saturated sponge.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, fighting to keep her speech intelligible. “I don’t think so, maybe. I… I need you… really bad…”

“Need me?” You replied cheekily, wrapping your fingers around the elastic and slipping her boxers off in one quick motion.

Your girlfriend's naked body was now fully on display before you. You had to take a moment, admiring details of the areas she had never let you see before: a small mole on her outer thigh, or the way her hip bones protruded to form little ridges across her pelvis. Her chest heaved, lips parted ever so slightly as she awaited your next move.

“Hazel?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Are you ready?”

She took in a breath, blowing it out big. “More than anything.”

You positioned your head between her legs, leaving feather-light kisses up and down her inner thighs. Her head tossed from side-to-side, body struggling to keep still with your mouth so close to where she needed you. Testing the waters, you ghosted a kiss over her clit, watching as she shuddered upon contact.

God she was sensitive.

Finally taking mercy on her, you licked a long, broad stripe up the length of her cunt, tongue lingering on her clit perhaps a bit longer than necessary. The cries that erupted from her throat were enough to send shocks through your own body. You moved to straddle her leg, grinding against it while you ate her out—a shift not going unnoticed by Hazel, only spurring her forward.

“Ohmygod… Ohmygod fuck…” your name tumbled from her lips amidst her breathless moans. She squirmed under your touch—every lick, each roll against her shin setting her body ablaze. A smirk tugged at your lips as your mouth created a vortex around her clit, causing her eyes to roll back like a slot machine landing on the jackpot.

You didn’t get to do this for very long before her plush thighs enveloped your head. “W-what…? It feels… I think, I think I’m…”

“Breathe, baby girl,” you cooed, never taking your mouth off of her. “Just relax, cum for me. Fuck you’re doing so well…”

Her hands flew back to your scalp, legs shaking, guttural cries erupting from her throat as her orgasm consumed her. Fuck she sounded pretty. Her thighs kept you right where she needed you, only loosening once her breathing evened and she slowly came back to reality.

You lifted your head once her legs collapsed onto your bedspread, her bones feeling like jello. “Was that alright, Haze?” You asked, crawling back up to lay next to her.

“Wow,” she sighed, pupils dilated into big black buttons. “Just wow.” She laid there a moment, silently recovering, wearing a dazed, blissful expression. But then her face shifted into something sour, almost uneasy. “I don’t, I mean… I don’t know how…”

“It’s fine,” you ensured.

“It’s not,” she argued. “I mean, you were… and on my leg…”

“Hey, Hazel,” you brushed her hair back, letting your fingers fall. “We don’t have to do anything else. Tonight was about you.”

“No, no. Please, I wanna fuck you so bad, I’ve been daydreaming about it for so long.”

You couldn’t have blushed harder if you tried.

“I just… I haven’t… like you did with that girl from summer camp. What if I try and it isn’t anything like that?”

“Hazel…” you reached for her face, kissing her reassuringly. “It won’t be anything like it was with her.”

Her face fell. “It won’t?”

“Of course not,” you replied. “What I did with her, it was just sex. Nothing like this, this is completely different.”

“Why?”

You had to gather up the courage to say your next words. “Hazel… I’m in love with you.”

She finally faced you with wide eyes. “You’ve never said that before.”

“I know,” you said. “I’m saying it now.”

That blissful expression from earlier returned to her pretty face. “I love you too.”

You giggled, and she pulled you into another kiss. Her weight shifted until you were on your back, her body covering yours, legs on either side of your hips. She tried to emulate you, peppering kisses down your neck and chest until she reached the satin cusp of your bra.

“How do… uh… I only wear sports bras…”

You sat up, guiding her hands around to your back and helping her unhook your clasp. She slid it off your shoulders and tossed it aside without care, her attention fixated purely on the newly-exposed flesh in front of her. “Holy fuck,” she exclaimed on a sigh.

Another smirk crept across your face. “What? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think these were the first you’d ever seen!”

She shot you an unamused look before diving in, suckling at one of your breasts and pawing at the other. Her eyes stayed unblinking, watching you as your head relaxed further into the pillow and soft sounds spilled from your lips.

“Am I doing ok?” She asked in a whisper.

“More than,” your voice came out soft and sweet, causing the tips of your lover’s ears to tint pink.

Hazel trailed downward, her soft lips leaving kisses all the way down to your stomach, her tousled hair tickling your skin. She paused at your cotton panties, her thumb passing over the fabric with uncertainty.

“Need help taking those off too?” You quipped.

“Definitely not,” she replied, seizing the waistband and sliding them off your legs.

Hazel gazed upon your naked body as if she were an artist, and you her masterpiece. Her hands hesitated before resting on your ribs, fingernails gently scratching down the length of your sides. She bent down, planting kisses on your hip bones, reveling in your quiet whimpers.

“Hazel…” you purred, and she got the message. Her hand slipped between your legs, fingertips tracing your entrance before sliding inside.

“Ouch,” you hissed, sitting up in pain.

Startled, Hazel pulled her hand back. “W-what? What happened? Shit, did I hurt you?”

“Kinda…” you paused, trying to pinpoint the discomfort. It almost felt like she had unraveled a paperclip and impaled your core—an unpleasant sensation you couldn’t explain until you saw…

“Hazel,” you exclaimed with a laugh. “You kept your rings on!”

“Yeah…” she muttered, cradling the hand that burned you. “I thought you liked my rings.”

“I love your rings,” you assured. “Just not inside me.”

“But the characters in the fanfictions I’ve read keep their rings on, and the feedback is always positive!”

There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from giggling at her protest. “Hazel, those fanfictions are written by people who probably haven’t experienced the real thing. Trust me, rings up there? Uncomfortable at best.”

Hazel nodded, mumbling a sheepish apology and removing her rings before slipping two fingers back in. “Better?”

“Much.”

With her confidence temporarily shaken, Hazel began to move against you, slowly, steadily, studying your facial expressions. Each gasp, every subtle twitch helped her gauge what you wanted, what you needed from her. She may have gone in blind, but she was a gifted learner, and you her favorite subject.

Soon after Hazel regained her certainty, you started to feel that familiar ache within your core. “Hazel… doing so good… my pretty girl… I’m so…”

She perked up, still keeping her hands where you seemed to want them. “Really? You mean it? Should I do anything different?”

You were about to shake your head, but stopped when you got an idea. “Do this with your fingers,” you demonstrated by curling your own.

She followed suit, reveling in your little mewls when she scratched against your g-spot.

But you weren’t finished yet. “Fuck… Hazel… almost… now just move your palm…”

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence. Hazel curved her palm, stimulating your clit, and your orgasm crashed over you like a flash flood breaking through a dam. Your back arched, legs shaking, chest heaving as you rode out your climax. Hazel wouldn’t, couldn’t look away; a moment ago she had been naive, inexperienced, but now the prettiest girl she’d ever seen was creaming all over her fingers, and it was all her own doing.

Her movements halted at what she hoped was the right moment. She withdrew her fingers, curiosity overtaking her as she popped them into her mouth and moaned at the taste, instantly regretting not going down on you. Her mind swirled, flashbacks of what just happened mixing with the oblivion of what to do next.

“Hazel,” you said finally. “Come lay down.”

She crawled back up to you, laying her head on the pillow. “Did I do ok?”

You giggled. “You did perfect.”

A grin spread across her face, reaching from ear-to-ear. Her eyelids were already drooping. “I’m so tired.”

“Me too,” you rolled over, wrapping your arm around her waist and nuzzling into her hair. “Go to sleep, my love. You’ve had a big night.”

She snuggled up closer to you, muttering a barely-perceptible ‘I love you’ before drifting off to sleep.

Tag List: @chloepricesgirl @k1ssm3m0re @joanvisitsrome @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @09carriages @hazelvrr @ummlover @lovinglynny @lilyannez @at1nyzen @lovepity @camilleee222 @reiisstuff @sofi4v13 @pensoterios @everybodyhatesari @sapphicarribean @sam-cooperrr @gay4lanadelrey666 @nickeverdeen

[onlygarden]

[noona, i'm not just a cutie] - nishimura riki

genre: fluff

description: ni-ki starts to grow tired of you babying him; he wants you to see him as your dependable prince-like boyfriend. ni-ki gets pretty dramatic but it's all meant to be taken lightheartedly. established relationship : )

a/n: my heart is GOING to explode i love him sooooo so much i wanna pinch his little cutie squishy angel face

ni-ki adored your every move to the extent that he couldn’t ever hope to properly describe it in words. with the way you always smiled at him so fondly, he knew your heart swelled with the same adoration for him, and that fact sent sparks of elation running through him. you were always so doting; you always lavished him with affection, and he truly loved it. he loved you so much, that he was sure his heart would stop beating without your presence. 

what he didn’t love, however, was the way you’d find the sudden urge to pinch his cheeks or squeeze his face in between your hands (especially when he smiled). sure, you were a little older than him, but that didn’t give you the right to handle him like he was a little boy. you always claimed he was your ‘little baby’, comparing him to all sorts of cute animals or soft inanimate objects. sure, whenever he grabbed your attention to tell you how pretty he thought you were it made a shy smile dance across your face, but you always bounced right back to treating him so delicately like he had ‘handle with care’ written across his forehead. 

your contact photo for him was even kiiroitori; he’ll never forget his confusion when you enthusiastically insisted he looked ‘just like him.’ these actions from you always left him utterly humiliated, feeling less like your boyfriend and more like a child. he grew annoyed at even the mere thought of you seeing him as a child. ni-ki was determined to prove to you that he was a chivalrous, dashing boyfriend and young man, not the squishy little baby boy that you painted him to be. 

“ni-ki, i made you a snack!” your cheery voice reaches his ears from your position in the kitchen. ni-ki stands up with the intention of approaching you, but he notices you already moseying your way into the living room with the snack you prepared for him. 

“just sit down baby, i don’t mind bringing it to you,” you tell him warmly, and he smiles a bit at your generosity before reclaiming his spot on the couch. 

as you hand him what you’ve prepared, his smile falls from his face. his hands now held a small bowl of various fruits cut into the shape of stars and hearts, and a glass of juice with a swirly straw gaudily perched inside. he stared at you as you traveled to another room in the house, happily oblivious to the embarrassment he was experiencing right now. 

you just couldn’t be serious.

it’s not like he didn’t appreciate you for graciously taking the time to prepare something for him with such thought. the sentiment was well received, but this was just way over the top. 

what was next, a tricycle? he was fed up. 

he gently sets down the two dishes on the coffee table in front of him before advancing through the house in search of you. he needed this to end.

he discovers you, carrying a basket of folded towels, and moves to grab them from you before you can reach the stairs. this was his chance to put a new side of him on display, he thought. 

“here, let me carry it for you,” ni-ki asserts, gently shifting the weight of the basket to his hands rather than yours. 

“it’s no problem ni-ki, i can carry it,” you smile with fondness, moving to return the basket to your grasp. 

ni-ki speaks again, interrupting your movements; 

“i can’t have my pretty girlfriend carrying this all by herself. let me do it,” ni-ki tells you, a charming lilt drifting through his voice. 

you blush at his bold, charismatic words, the deepness of his voice suddenly becoming more apparent to you as your cutie ni-ki shimmers like such a gentleman before your eyes. you manage to utter a “thank you, ni-ki,” as he ascends the stairs. what’s gotten into him? you ponder, moving to sit on the couch as you tried (and failed) to heave yourself out of your ruffled state.

ni-ki returns, plopping beside you, a sharp confidence surging through him and casting an evident smirk across his face. 

however, you once again send ni-ki plummeting meters below the glory he felt from showing you how dependable of a boyfriend he could be; you lift your menacing hand, patting the top of his head, offering him the same tender smile you would give a puppy. 

“stop babying me,” he abruptly requests, his deep voice ironically pouty. “i’m your boyfriend, not some little boy,” he adds.

a coddling expression of sympathy flashes across your face. “i just can’t help it ni-ki, no matter what you do you just look so cute!”

this is torture, you thought. here he was, sitting next to you with an adorably displeased expression scattered across his face, but you would only upset him further if you succumbed to your thoughts and squished him. how does he expect you not to? he surely doesn’t realize how cute he is, you thought. 

you felt guilty, but even as he sat pouting beside you, he still looked overwhelmingly adorable.

“is my baby upset,” you say with a teasing lilt in your voice, poking at his side, a frivolous tenor tracing your actions. 

at this point, you were just ridiculing him on purpose. ni-ki decides to ignore you. he fixates his eyes onto the tv in front of him. 

“ni-ki,” you finally say, your voice now tinged with a mild seriousness. “what’s the matter?” 

he finally turns to face you, satisfied with your kind (yet belated) decision to take him seriously.

ni-ki leans towards you, slowly minimizing the distance between your faces, urging his lips to place a kiss on your cheek with feather like gentleness. he was within such close proximity; your throat began to tighten, and your face warmed up along with it. as if your flustered reactions weren’t already enough, he grabs your face with a mildly tight grip as he ushers a kiss to your lips. ni-ki pulls his face away from yours just enough to allow his eyes to fall into yours, appreciating the way your face beamed so abashedly, as if the realization that he was truly your boyfriend just dawned on you. 

“i’m a baby, right?” he hotly teases you, your mind flustered as this sudden uncharacteristic display from ni-ki makes you dizzy. he smirks at the way you stare up at him, too stunned to form a response. 

you suddenly smile, turning away from him uttering a “yes” and he giggles at the way you stubbornly refuse to meet his eyes. he begins trying to force your eyes to meet his, positioning his face directly in front of yours as you persistently evade his gaze. ni-ki laughs, his lovely eyes sharing a smile with his mouth. “noona, you’re adorable!” he teases, poking your stomach repeatedly, as you futilely attempt to escape his torment. ni-ki wouldn’t dare allow the opportunity to taunt your endearing behavior to sail by him after the constant babying he endured from you.

[lo1k-diamonds]

Be as it must 💜 Part 1

“They think omegas are extinct, but that doesn’t stop them from looking.”

PAIRING: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega(f)reader

SUMMARY: It’s hard being an omega in a world where they've all but disappeared, but you're safe as long as you stay under the radar. You might be risking it a little bit by working for the Jeon Family, an alpha ruling family, but they have no idea about you. What happens when you're found and taken to your boss, CEO Jeon Jungkook?

WORD COUNT: 3.7 k

GENRE: ABO, strangers to lovers, fated lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: anxiety, kidnapping, tension, mentions of abuse

A.N. Alright, let's get this party on the road 💜 There are so many Easter eggs and details in this part to kickoff things with the right foot 👀 A huge thank you to @moonleeai for helping me with every little detail, which I appreciate so much!! 🥰

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | Next Chapter >

“Good morning. I'd like ube bubble tea, please.”

“Name?”

You smiled, giving the barista your nickname instead before paying and moving away to wait. 

It was not yet past 9 AM, but you couldn’t help grabbing your work phone and activating the mobile data. Even though you'd be in the office in ten minutes, it couldn't hurt to already have an idea of what awaited you.

There was no surprise with the amount of notifications popping up; so many so fast, the expensive device froze for a second. You smirked as you reviewed the messages sent through the office’s private chats, then scrunched up your nose at a few more serious emails. But as you dismissed one notification after the other, taking mental notes of what you should do first, one message made you topple all over yourself when you thumbed it away.

What was that?

CEO Jeon Jungkook is expecting you for a one-on-one call at 9:30 AM.

Your eyes widened impossibly, your perfectly manicured nails carding through your long hair for a moment. What did you just read?!

You opened a private chat with your team director, and your mentor, Yoon Minsik, and sent him a screenshot of the text message.

You scoffed in disbelief; you couldn’t believe this was on the table again. Still, what was baffling was that the CEO himself wanted to talk to you about it. It was so ludicrous; it was nonsensical.

You started typing furiously to tell your mentor that he should have handled your rejections to move away with more grace when someone called your nickname for what sounded like the hundredth time.

You turned around on your high heels, your perfectly styled hair falling in long dark waves behind your shoulder over a white silk blazer. The barista staggered, looking at you above her eyeglasses with parted lips, before she blinked and hurried to bow and extend your ube bubble tea.

You were about to smile and thank her for her service when she tripped and lounged forward, scaring you into instinctively grabbing her forearm to keep her steady. Fortunately, she was smaller than you, and since the drink was closed, your white suit was purple-stain free.

Still, the barista fell apart in apologies and bows that left you baffled.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. No harm done, see?” You wished the people around you would stop staring and making her feel bad; it made the air too pungent for your sensitive nose. She reminded you of a younger you, going through part-time jobs to push you through law school. “Thank you for your kindness.”

You made sure to bow and smile at her properly to put her at ease before heading to your office with a rushed pace. You couldn’t risk being late, even if you already knew your answer to the CEO’s proposal.

The expansion of the Jeon conglomerate into Seoul was but a small reflection of the success the company was finding overseas. It made it impossible not to expand to the capital and, naturally, most of the executive and legal teams followed.

Only you had said no at the time, and again just yesterday, when your mentor brought it up again. He should have known better than to go directly to the CEO about something like this. You had no special rapport with the CEO; you were just part of the team that handled multiple international agreements, and you represented the company whenever necessary. You had been told the CEO resented not having his top legal representative more “at hand”, but you doubted he was even aware of your existence. Your work gave prestige to the Busan branch, and you were proud of it. You had even suggested training someone to take functions similar to yours in Seoul. That was still your answer — you’d help out in any way, but there was nothing that could convince you to go to Seoul.

You admitted you never thought you’d sway on that decision, not in a million years. But you had also never imagined someone like CEO Jeon Jungkook, and just looking at him, you thought you could be convinced. When you entered the video call with him, you were expecting a short five-minute call in which anything could happen, from a dismissive “I thought I’d give it a shot”, to “You either do it or you’re fired.” You were ready for both, as adamant as you were about your position. Yet, neither happened.

He entered the call despite clearly needing time to finish a conversation with someone in the room, so you observed him while they talked on mute. His shoulders were wide, framed by a dark blazer that made him look the size of the world. His eyes were dark, introducing a harshness with his eyebrows as he debated something he clearly disagreed on with his interlocutor. His dark hair reached his eyes, falling on what you realized were soft features. CEO Jeon Jungkook was incredibly good-looking, making the blood rush to your cheeks in an instant. 

You swallowed and tried looking away, grabbing a notebook and a pen just in case you needed to take notes. Unfortunately, it didn’t give you much reprieve; your eyes found their way to his neck, thick with a prominent Adam’s apple. As he craned his head to look at something behind the camera, your eyes trailed happily down his throat to his collar bone, where a couple of open buttons revealed perfectly bronzed skin—

You cleared your voice and started scribbling the date on the notebook; anything to keep you from staring. It didn’t last long; a deep voice invaded your ears through your AirPods, “I apologize for the delay. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

Your mind blanked as you stared at the screen with currents of warm, ticklish electricity running down your spine. 

That was his voice. You could barely pay attention to what he was saying, which was so exceptional, it was unthinkable. His looks weren’t the issue; your whole body was trying to pinpoint something, and not necessarily his figure. It was as though you were a radio, turning the knob to fine-tune the right frequency. One you knew was yours to attune to, you just needed a bit more—

“So I wanted your opinion on the matter quickly before we meet in twenty minutes.”

You straightened your shoulders, and nodded, shaking those thoughts away. Your boss had a work-related request, and you obliged immediately.

While you resumed the current status of the agreement with an American company looking to use Jeon facilities to carry out research and development of a few products the Jeon conglomerate wanted priority access to, CEO Jeon Jungkook listened intently. You were used to talking and being met with skepticism or even indifference, especially by older stakeholders, who didn’t always respect a young woman in such a pivotal role in your department. Yet, the CEO was listening to you with utmost seriousness, as if every word out of your mouth was worth his time and attention.

Because it was; he hadn't achieved his current level of success at such a young age without being highly skilled and intelligent, just like you. You gave him the run-down of the situation and brainstormed with him possibilities that could be included in the agreement with ease. It was frankly refreshing; not too often, you had to waste time reminding board members of concrete information, boundaries, and laws that they should be aware of. Jeon Jungkook wasn’t there to waste your time or to scoff at your input; he was there to obtain advice on the best course of action, and it tranquilized you.

It impressed you, also. For someone only two years younger than you, he was phenomenal. Though, you didn’t forget what he was. You wondered if the reason why you couldn’t take your eyes off him and nearly stopped breathing to hear him attentively was because he was an alpha. You could only guess; to your knowledge, no one at the company knew of him or the Jeon family, and you had no way of knowing if you should feel any type of way about him.

According to your mother, you should. When you first started working for the Jeon conglomerate, she had almost lost her mind, wailing about the sacrifices your ancestors made to keep your family safe, only for you to work right under one of the Families. At the time, you knew better than to scoff at her; after all, you had already presented. It was a hard period for you, having grown up with stories the world told you were make-belief, only to turn eighteen and suddenly feel unexplainable things. The worst was that your sense of smell had evolved, picking up on the faintest scent. If humans could make the air change so quickly based on their emotions, you could only imagine how an alpha could influence a whole room, especially for you.

In the end, your mother had to admit that the Jeon family was too prestigious and far away to ever come into contact with you. That meant that Jeon Jungkook had never met you until now, despite your extensive work at his company. You were the middle person, the worker behind the scenes, writing the proposals, discussing, and bringing things to life. Yoon Minsik or other Seoul-based lawyers would be the ones to appear at formal events when things were done, which you didn’t mind as long as you stayed in Busan. Safe.

So Jeon Jungkook had no idea about you.

Still, he sighed when you finished talking and leaned on his right side as he seemed to debate something with himself. “I must confess Yoon Minsik didn’t do you justice.”

“I’m sorry?”

You blinked, caught off guard. He had a meeting in five minutes; you were expecting him to say his farewells.

“I knew the Busan team was holding someone exceptional, but Yoon Minsik should have warned me sooner. No one in this office can synthesize, analyze, and keep a high level of scrutiny like you just did on such short notice and in so little time. Not with me, at least.”

You didn’t answer, opting for a silent moment to process what he just said. It was surely praise, but you were not about to belittle your Seoul colleagues by agreeing. You also didn’t want to sell yourself; you were happy where you were. Finally, you had to stop your chest from swelling with pride. CEO Jeon Jungkook was telling you in so many words that you matched him skillswise, which was incredibly validating. He was also incredible, if you could say so yourself.

He glanced at the edge of the screen, then leaned forward, “Your talents are wasted in the Busan office. Come work with me in Seoul.”

Your cheeks blushed furiously as your body overreacted to his request. Fortunately, your makeup was perfect that morning, and so you could trust he had no clue how much he affected you.

“I’m undoubtedly flattered by your incredible remarks and for such an amazing opportunity, but I must politely decline.”

Your answer was automatic, even though your eyes watered, and your voice didn’t hide a tinge of emotion. You were touched by the proposition, by the whole ordeal, really. But nothing could change your mind.

He pursed his lips, “Is there something about this office you dislike? Something you’d like to request? I’m listening.”

Your heart raced in your chest and you swallowed. Your mind whipped out an impossible thought while you glanced at the clock — 9:58 AM. When you looked back at him, you were almost shocked; he was at ease, just looking at you. As though he didn’t have another meeting in two minutes. As though you weren’t a replaceable piece in the system. As though he actually was willing to stay there with you and negotiate the conditions that would change your mind and bring you to his side.

You swallowed dryly again, “The office is great; like I said, it’s an amazing opportunity. I just don’t wish to be uprooted.”

A few seconds ticked by in silence while you waited for those soft features to twist into petulance or anger at the rejection.

But then his lips pulled in a crooked smile, and you just knew he was amused, maybe even impressed by your resilience. 

“It’s a shame, and an incredible loss for this office. But I don’t plan on doing without you from here on out. Thank you for your time, talk soon.”

He bowed, and you hurried to do the same through your bewilderment, and in seconds the call was cut. You were left breathless and a little stupefied by CEO Jeon Jungkook.

You weren’t sure how to feel about today.

As you shut the front door of your apartment with your heart in your throat and disheveled hair from running, you leaned your back on it as if your weight could stop whoever was chasing you from breaking it down.

Your first instinct was to push the camera button to see outside your apartment and of your apartment building, but it was all normal and quiet. Slowly, your heart calmed as you stared endlessly into such a peaceful and unmoving image, you wondered if it had been hacked to play on a loop.

But then you scoffed and reasoned with yourself; that’s just an exaggeration. This whole thing was. This whole day was. 

First, the CEO of your conglomerate all but interviewed you and tried to negotiate you changing offices to Seoul. Just that implausibility could have made that day already sound bonkers.

But then, because you had taken the metro that day, you had to walk a bit home, and you were almost snatched.

You swallowed, getting your heels off. That was exactly what it was — a car had stopped next to you on the street and two men had tried to grab you and push you inside. They must have been coordinated, because the men were following behind you, and the car knew exactly when and where to stop. Still, the nearing car alerted you, so as soon as you felt someone behind you, you were ready to fight. You struggled and managed to slip through their fingers, instantly running to a very busy street nearby. You knew no one would help you even if they saw it, but you were hoping it would deter them at least.

You ran straight home; you hoped they didn’t follow you.

You went all the way to your fridge, grabbed a soju bottle in your shaky hands, then turned on the TV to create background noise. You were nervous, trembling, and you needed normalcy to calm down. The familiar sound of a journalist reporting the news allowed you to down half a bottle in a go before heaving a long sigh straight from your soul. 

Abductions weren’t common, but men or cults were known for unorthodox methods like those. You tried to shrug it off as being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it wasn’t enough. The news wasn’t enough, either. So you grabbed your phone and called your mother.

“Hi, my butterfly. How’s my precious daughter?”

She instantly started going on about what she was doing and her day, and you finally closed your eyes with a sense of normalcy. You managed to switch clothes while she talked, then went over the small and less impactful moments of your day for obvious reasons — the Jeon alpha and the almost abduction situations would just worry her terribly.

But then the TV reporter started speaking on a piece about a series of attacks targeting women in Busan, and you reached for the remote to increase the volume. Your mother kept talking, none the wiser, while you listened to the piece and noticed the similarities to what happened to you: men followed them on the street, shoved them into a car, asked a bunch of questions, touched them inappropriately, and then let them go.

Your mind was going over the motive of such a weird event when your breath caught. On the screen, the interview of one of the victims shocked you — it was the barista from this morning, eyeglasses and all.

Your alarms went off. “Mom…” you interrupted. “I need to tell you something.”

You started by commenting on what the reporter was saying, talking about the events happening locally, and your mother scoffed bitterly, “I told you not to move to the city.”

“It’s just Busan,” you argued, tired of that same old discussion.

“Even Busan is too big! Big cities are hunting grounds for—”

“Do you think that’s what this is?” You asked more sternly, wanting her opinion without freaking her out.

“Yes,” she sighed, knowing her daughter was dismissive of the subject. “It sounds like they’re scenting people.”

“What?”

“Hunting for omegas.”

You bit your lip for a second, still hesitating, “And why do you think that is, all of a sudden?”

She hummed, “They think omegas are extinct, but that doesn’t stop them from looking.”

You sighed with exasperation; this was serious, “You think they’re hunting ghosts and risking lawsuits?”

“These Families don’t need to worry about petty things like lawsuits! You should know that!”

You groaned, rubbing your face. You had misstepped and given her even more reasons to be agitated, and she didn’t know the half of it yet.

“An omega is a powerful tool to exert control. Remember the legends? Seven great Families once controlled the nation—”

“Yeah, yeah, omegas disappeared and now there are only four families,” you wrapped up dismissively. You didn’t care about snobs or hierarchies, not even in what concerned your disconcerting CEO. You cared where that left you.

“Whether you want to bury your head in the sand or not, it’s still very much true. The four Families have four unmated alphas, it’s a wonder they didn’t start searching sooner.”

“You think this is them?” you probed, biting down your nail.

“Or someone who knows how valuable such a person can be.”

You scoffed, “How would they even know who is an omega?”

“Some are trained to pick up the rarest of scents. Don’t forget how invaluable—”

“Right, right,” you dismissed, hiding your eyes from the TV and the world. You could still see the barista giving her testimony to the journalist; there was no dismissing it anymore. Your mother was making too much sense, paranoia be damned.

“Whatever Family gets their hands on one will get the upper hand.”

“This is fucking ridiculous,” you burst in a low hiss, angry at the world. You were not a tool or bargaining chip.

“You say that because you don’t know. You don’t know what it’s like to be in a room full of alphas, the power that—”

“Nor do I want to,” you grumbled. “Do I have a reason to worry?”

Your mother’s tone was surprisingly calm, “No, I don’t think so. Our family is not in the registry, they have no way of tracking you down. Why?”

You went over the episode briefly so as not to shock her too much, though to no avail. “Mom…” you tried, but she didn’t stop her litany of I told you so. “There’s something else.”

You had to tell her about the barista because to you, that was the nail in the coffin. You were pragmatic and knew the law; regardless of the Families’ standing, you didn’t believe they were above it. Maybe they did hunt for omegas in order to gain advantage over each other, you couldn’t be certain. Realistically, alleging such things would get you nowhere, and you were living under the radar, staying away from the capital where most betas and alphas migrated decades ago. But the barista changed everything. Because you went to that café almost every day and this time, you had touched her. You could have left your scent behind.

It was just too much of a coincidence that the two things happened the same day.

“You need to leave.”

Your mom’s tone dropped, hinting at an incontestable seriousness. You still tried, “You said I’m not in the registry.”

“Yes, but we can’t risk it!”

You groaned, “What the hell will they do? Kidnap me?”

“Yes!” You pursed your lips this time. “You’ll be seen as a tool! And we don’t have the means to protect you!”

You rubbed your eyes but agreed, “I… I think I can go to Seoul for a while. For work. I know,” you continued, with a hint of frustration. “It’s the worst place to go, but I have my life, my work. I can't just disappear. Maybe if I leave for a week or so, it will be enough to throw them off.”

Your mother wasn’t convinced, but she was reasonable — you could leave tomorrow and ask for vacation as soon as possible to maybe travel and lay low for a while.

It was nerve-wracking, but you were willing to do anything to stay safe and hidden. To stay autonomous and live freely, to not be used as leverage in power games that deemed you a worthless pawn. You just wanted to live your life, regardless of your blood or status.

You had a plan, so after booking a flight and a hotel room, and messaging your mentor about the sudden change of plans, you were able to sleep a few hours. Because you wanted to work the next day, you had an early flight that allowed you to arrive and get ready before starting within normal working hours.

That was how you left, waiting for a taxi in front of your building when the sun wasn't even up. And that was how you were shoved inside a car when you were distracted, and finally taken.

[dollfacefantasy]

NOT A TOY! ♡

pairing: rick grimes x fem!reader

summary: you and rick play around with the piece holstered to his belt

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, gun play (humping it), praise/degradation

wc: 1.4k

a/n: um sorry gang i wanted this to be longer but my brain wasn't working when i wrote it and it lowkey still is not 😔 based on this ask tho which i loved. i hope you guys like it. reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated.

kinktober slot: day 22 - gun play

"You like this?" he asks, feigned disgust dripping from each syllable, "Dirty fuckin' girl."

"It feels good," you whimper in defense of yourself.

He chuckles at that, the sound coming out raspy and low. It's accompanied by the smirk on his face. The nearby light of the lantern makes his eyes look as though they're flickering with amusement at the position you're in.

The two of you were on watch for the night shift. While the sun set behind the tree line, you each climbed up into the tower that sat along the wall. Both of you started off focused on the task at hand. You kept your eyes forward, scanning the horizon for any signs of trouble, walker or human.

But as had been the norm for your time in Alexandria so far, nothing happened. No staggering figures emerged from the woods, nor did any cars creep down the road. You sat in the two chairs perched up there and talked back and forth about different things. You vented about different people in the group, shared stories about your lives in the old world, just normal stuff.

As the hours stretched on, you grew tired and migrated into Rick's lap. He let you settle in against his chest, expecting you to rest there for the remaining time. But like it normally went for the two of you, being so close meant you couldn't keep your hands off each other.

It started with simple making out. Your lips moved with one anothers in slow, open-mouthed kisses. His hands swept over your figure, stopping every so often to grope at your thighs or hips. He spun you around on his lap after a while to get you situated in a position to ride him.

In doing so, he went to move his gun out of its holster. The cool wooden finish of the grip brushed over your thigh, and the sensation sent a visible shudder through your body. 

His brows had raised with curiosity. Testing the idea, he dragged the weapon up your leg, and you shivered again.

"Feel somethin' good, sweetheart?" he asked.

Your eyes darted up to meet his, timidity gleaming over the small spheres. You responded with a little nod, and that was how you ended up here. The gun lodged between your thighs, the smooth grip pressed right up against your damp panties. 

You rut on the weapon like a puppy in heat - back and forth, back and forth. You're not sure if it's the thrill of using something so inherently dangerous as an object of pleasure or just something about the even curve of it that has you even more whiny than usual.

Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, dragging the fabric of his shirt up between them. His free hand not keeping the gun secure holds your chin. You want to drop your head back so bad. Your eyes are already so droopy with lust. You want to just melt and let loose, but he keeps you locked in this moment with him.

"Look at you. So desperate. You'll rub up on anything if it gets you off, huh?" he whispers.

Your head bobbles in his grasp, nodding yes.

"Mhm. As long as it feels good you don't care," he tuts. He boosts one of his legs to knock you closer. You topple forward further into his chest and stay there, accepting the warm expanse as refuge from the stimulation down below.

"Not my fault," you whimper, "Just feels so good."

"I bet it does," he chuckles.

Carefully, he angles the firearm upwards a bit more, letting your clit bump on the end of the grip. A sharp whine shoots from your lips, so he knows it was the right move.

You don't worry about anything right now. In this moment, it's just you and him. There's nothing to think about but humping the object below you like your life depends on it. You don't even worry about your own speed or force or anything. If there's anyone in this world you'd trust to do this with, it's Rick.

Rick who's intensely familiar with guns from his years on the force before this. Rick who's piece stays attached to his hip at all times. Rick who looks at you like you're the most precious being on earth, but who also can't get enough of reminding you what a little slut you can be. He's the only one who gets you to this level of depravity.

"Harder, baby. I know you can do better than this," he teases near your ear. You feel his breath tickle your skin, the sensation sending chills all across your heated flesh.

You try to follow what he says and press yourself down with more force. The smooth handle slots between your folds. You whine as you feel the increase in pressure, so close against you the contact almost feels direct.

His hands around back knead your ass. He gives it a small smack, beckoning you to keep up the pace.

"Want you to make yourself cum all over it. Get it all messy for me," he breathes, "I know those cute little panties are already soaked."

Your eyes flit down as if you didn't know that. His gaze follows in suit, a small laugh coming out of him. The more you rut on top of him, the darker the wet patch on the front of the delicate garment becomes. The sticky fabric adds to the friction though, making your release approach faster.

"F-fuck," you whimper. Your body tightens up at the impending sensation. The edge is right there. You don't think you could stop now if you wanted to.

"That's right, sweetheart. Making me proud. You're actin' like the perfect whore for me. Keep it up," he mumbles, each word only spurring you on.

You keep bucking your hips. Your grasp on him tightens. Your chest puffs in smaller intervals as you feel yourself racing towards the finish line. When you finally crest the peak, your back arches. You let out a strangled cry. Your body continues to rock brokenly on top of the object.

He grabs your chin again and pulls your face from where it'd been smooshed against his chest. His fingers direct you upward, forcing you to look at him.

"Look in my eyes while you cum, darlin'. Look at who's making you feel this good," he says.

Your cheeks fill with heat at the intensity of his gaze. Despite your instinct to look away, you keep your pupils locked on his blue irises, taking in all of the desire swirling there. Everything hits you harder. You tremble even more as the thing between your legs continues bringing you pleasure.

He chuckles and  drops his hand from your face. Once you're beginning the downward slope, he rubs your back, soothing you through it.

"Good girl. Let it all out. I've got you," he murmurs.

He keeps a firm hold on you, ensuring you don't fall off his lap. You continue on shuddering and riding out the rest of the high, but soon enough your body begins to settle. It feels like you're melting down into his chest. Every part of you loosens. You let out a deep sigh. And your eyes flutter.

His hand slithers down between the two of you to carefully extract his gun from the junction of your legs. He slides it out, briefly admiring the small sheen coating it. You scoot closer to be further in his arms as you hear him set the weapon on the table beside you.

He holds you there for a moment, letting you calm down. It's dark out now. Everything's quiet except for the sound of your breathing. His fingers massage the nape of your neck while he looks out at the pitch black expanse outside the walls.

Even though his attention resides elsewhere for the moment, when you shift around, you feel his bulge nudging the plush underside of your thighs. Reaching down, your fingers toy with the button on his jeans.

That same smug expression from earlier returns to his face as his eyes find yours again.

"You want more already?" he teases.

"That was just the warm up. I want the real thing," you say with a tiny smile.

"The real thing, huh? Greedy girl," he tuts playfully. But he adjusts his position a little in a way that you know you're gonna get what you want. "Let's see if you can handle the real thing without waking everybody up."

[fanficlolsblog]

THAT BOY IS A MONSTER

back to my main masterlist

pairing: fem!reader x ethan landry

summary: y/n becomes dangerously infatuated with ethan landry, who hides a dark, monstrous side behind his charm. despite knowing he’s dangerous, y/n can’t resist the pull of his intense gaze and possessive nature. as ethan slowly consumes y/n’s heart and soul, y/n falls deeper into the twisted relationship, unable to escape the hold he has over them. in the end, y/n willingly lets ethan devour their heart, accepting the monster he truly is.

warnings: contains themes of obsession, toxic relationships, emotional manipulation, violence, dark themes.

a/n: i posted this on wattpad to, i would appreciate it if you would go check it out :) loversxoxoxo.

w/c: 1k+

ethan landry was trouble from the moment you laid eyes on him. something about him was off—too calm, too quiet, too normal in a world full of chaos. but there was something beneath the surface, something you couldn’t ignore no matter how hard you tried. those dark eyes of his, always watching, always knowing, sent a shiver down your spine every time he glanced your way.

you knew better than to get involved with someone like him, but it was already too late. from the moment you noticed him, you were hooked. it didn’t matter how many times your friends warned you, how many times you told yourself that he was dangerous. that boy had a grip on your heart, and there was no escaping it.

he had this way of looking at you, like he could see right into your soul, and it terrified you. but it also thrilled you, the way danger always does when it’s wrapped up in something so tempting. ethan wasn’t like the others; he wasn’t trying to blend in. he knew exactly what he was, and he wore it like a second skin.

you saw him around campus, in the shadows, always watching, always calculating. it was like he was waiting for the right moment, biding his time, and you hated how much you wanted to be a part of whatever twisted game he was playing.

it wasn’t until one night at a party that you finally spoke to him. you’d been drinking, just enough to blur the edges of your fear, and when you saw him standing in the corner, you couldn’t help but approach.

“you’ve been watching me,” you said, your voice more confident than you felt.

he smirked, that wolfish grin that made your stomach twist. “maybe i have.”

you should’ve walked away right then. you should’ve left him in the shadows where he belonged. but you didn’t.

“why?” you asked, leaning in just a little too close, the alcohol making you braver than you should’ve been.

his eyes darkened, and for a moment, you swore you saw something flicker behind them, something dangerous, something deadly. “because you amaze me,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

those words sent a chill down your spine, but they also sent a thrill through your veins. you knew he was bad news, knew there was something wrong with him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

and then, before you could even process what was happening, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “you look good enough to eat,” he whispered, and your heart skipped a beat.

you should’ve pulled away. you should’ve run. but instead, you let him pull you closer, let his arms wrap around you as he whispered sweet, dangerous things into your ear.

you weren’t sure when it happened, but at some point that night, ethan landry stopped being just a boy with dark eyes and a quiet smile. he became something else. something monstrous.

the first time he kissed you, it felt like he was devouring you. his lips were soft, but his grip was firm, almost possessive. you felt trapped, but in the best way possible. every time he touched you, it was like he was claiming a part of you, bit by bit, until there was nothing left.

“i asked my friend about you,” you admitted one night, your head resting on his chest after one of those stolen moments where the world outside didn’t matter. “she said she thought she’d seen you before, but she couldn’t remember.”

ethan chuckled, low and dark, and you felt it vibrate through you. “she might’ve,” he said cryptically, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. “but i don’t think she remembers much.”

you wanted to ask what he meant by that, but something in his tone made you think better of it. there were things about ethan you didn’t want to know, things you weren’t sure you could handle.

the more time you spent with him, the more you realized just how dangerous he was. he had a darkness inside him, something that lurked just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to strike. and yet, you couldn’t stay away.

he ate you alive, piece by piece, until all you could think about was him. every glance, every touch, every whispered word—it consumed you, made you feel like you were losing yourself. but it was a loss you welcomed.

you tried to rationalize it, tried to tell yourself that ethan was just a boy, that the intensity you felt was nothing more than infatuation. but deep down, you knew the truth. ethan was a monster, and you were falling for him, hard and fast.

“i can’t stop thinking about you,” you whispered one night, your breath hitching as he leaned over you, his dark eyes boring into yours.

“good,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. “because i don’t plan on letting you go.”

his words should’ve scared you. they should’ve sent you running for the door. but instead, they made your heart race, made you want him even more.

you knew he was bad for you, knew that getting involved with ethan was a mistake you’d regret. but it didn’t matter. the way he looked at you, the way he touched you—it was like he was the only thing that existed in the world, and you were powerless to resist him.

he was a wolf in disguise, and you were the prey.

there were moments when you saw the real ethan, the one hiding behind the charming smile and soft touches. his eyes would darken, his grip would tighten, and for a split second, you’d catch a glimpse of the monster lurking beneath the surface. but then he’d smile, and you’d forget all about it, lost in the illusion he’d carefully crafted for you.

he devoured you, bit by bit, until there was nothing left of who you used to be.

one night, as you lay next to him, his arms wrapped around you, you realized you didn’t care. you didn’t care that he was dangerous, that he was a monster in every sense of the word. because he was your monster, and you’d fallen for him completely.

ethan landry had eaten your heart, and you let him.

[bunnwich]

This is altogether random, but I feel you might appreciate the idea: since Leona is doing his internship with a mining company in Sunset Savanna, I like to think if he were to propose to his partner, any ring would have a stone he found himself (then or years later) that made him think of them, because they’re worth the effort.

No, I love this so much and this actually inspired to think of some HC for Leona and Yuu's engagement!! So pardon me as I use this as an excuse to yap/draw.

🧡Leona x Yuu Proposal

🧡Engagement:

I picture Leona and Yuu would be together a while time before he worrys about marriage. Leona as we know is not traditional by any means. And the two are so used to just…being there for each other, lives intertwined like a braid. 

At this time after NRC I see Leona having his hands in a few things, but mostly just there as support for Yuu and even Ruggie as they navigate graduating. After his internship he currently sits as a member of the Board of Environmental Utilization.

I think they would already live together in a somewhat isolated place near the edge of the Outlands and Sunrise City. Leona originally helped get it for Yuu to have a forever home but now he finds himself there more and more. It's a bit of a fixer-upper, reminding Yuu of the Ramshackle.

I imagine their house has a revolving door policy and often has uninvited guests, Ruggie comes to visit a lot and uses it as a place to crash when he's in town to see his Granny. And then there's Cheka (who is now a teen rebelling against his parents.)

Often the two take late-night drives in Leona’s jeep to get away from the craziness of all. Leona struggles trying to adapt to a more humble living situation and lifestyle. (he still can't work the microwave for a damn), but he tries enjoying the quiet life he has with Yuu. Yuu is still figuring out how they will fit in in their new homeland as a Sunset Savanna citizen.

I feel Leona’s family would be hassling them about marriage for years but neither are too keen on the idea of it liking their private life. However, Leona knows it’s the easiest way to protect Yuu and make sure they always have a home and inherit the house they fixed up together. (Should anything ever happen to him.) Plus, it would give them full citizenship in his homeland. 

So one day, he decides that it's time to make it legal. Of course, he already knew a long time ago that they belonged to one another, this is so cemented in his mind and he’s not even that nervous about it. At this point, they’ve been through so much together they live together, they are one. So, he does it in his Leona way.

On one of their sunset drives together he pulls out a special ring his sister-in-law helped him design with Yuu's three favorite stones that he’d sent them in their time apart. He had two requests when he had it made: it had to have a moon for Yuu and a stone for both of them.

Leona during his internship would often collect stones he would find in the mines, finding some to send to Yuu. He knew that they liked that sorta stuff even if he didn't care for it. And he didn’t mind writing down little geological facts for them. 

“So…ya wanna be married to me?”

Yuu would honestly not expect it. And he said it so casually too! Smug bastard. But as usual, he was…right, their lives were so connected they couldn't imagine not seeing his cocky face every day or hearing his soft words of encouragement then loud ass snores every night.

“Okay.” They say with a shrug, and Yuu would be crying for both them. He was right, it just made sense. Besides, what would the lion do without them?

After putting the ring on their finger he'd wrap his arms around them, intending to never let go after that. He can’t help but get teary too. He never thought that he’d have someone like his brother did, to be by his side always.

“Well, now, yer stuck with me.”

“That’s okay.”

🧡Wedding:

As for a wedding, I KNOW Falena and Sis-in-law would press for a big, fat traditional Sunset Savanna wedding. There is a bit of controversy among some old-fashioned council members that Leona is marrying an outsider and a few murmuring that Yuu is a human too. But Leona’s favorability in the kingdom has always been so divided that some take an apathetic view, expecting this behavior from the second prince anyway.

Being a “spare heir” works in Leona’s favor this time, as there is not as much pressure for an arranged marriage for him as his brother had. Though there’s still some pushback. They were fine viewing Yuuta as a fling but it’s tradition for royal family members to have political marriages.

It’s a bit of strain on their relationship during this time with the stress of the capital’s spotlight on them. Since Leona told no one about it until after he proposed to Yuu. But, because a few on the council are fond of Yuu already, (as well as the queen regent), it all works out eventually! (Leona threatens to take Yuu and run away so many times.)

It is an…adjustment getting this much attention for Yuu. But, because the house they chose is already out of the prying eyes, the two compromise by agreeing to a true royal wedding…

This doesn’t last long. The two get fed up and…elope a few months later in the middle of the night. Cheka/Ruggie sneak out to be witnesses. Falena and the queen are pissed and make them promise to get married again in a few years publicly.

🧡Traditions:

Rings are a bit more of a modern marriage tradition in the Sunset Savanna as other countries' cultures melded with theirs over the years. Leona has never been one for traditions anyway and he liked the idea of matching rings, made out of the same ore and gems.

An old tradition of Sunset Savanna marriages is that of permanent bracelets, braided by hand by the officiating party. They are meant to stay on til death. Often colored beads are added to represent each personality. The braided hemp itself represents an eternity together in this life and the next. Through the circle of life, they are connected from then on out. 

[mrchiipchrome]

Misophonia

W.C.- 2.7k

Happy birthday to meeeeee

——————

It was no secret in the world of women’s football that you and Kyra Cooney-Cross were everyone’s unofficial little sisters. The younger of the two, you, had been moved up from the Arsenal academy at the same time that Kyra joined, and the unfamiliarity of the new team that you were suddenly thrown into made you two bond fast. Really fast.

Within 5 minutes of meeting the other, you had managed to plan at least 4 pranks to perform on the girls. Through Kyra, you also became much closer to the aussies of the team, just a sort of natural consequence of hanging around the Aussie all day. She was like your older, but just as mature as you, sister.

By month 3 of knowing each other, you and Kyra had managed to find every single button to press to make the other go completely mad. For Kyra, the main thing that set her off was when you tapped your feet against the floor repeatedly. For you it was whenever anyone made any type of noise with their mouths, with the obvious exception of speaking.

It just made you so irrationally mad, especially when someone was chewing all up in your ear, the sound so revolting that you often shouted for them to get away. Most of the team had learned their lessons already and knew not to even try to chew loudly near you, as you’d put your headphones on and ignore them for most of the day.

Kyra however, being the annoying little shit (lovingly) that she was, continued to do it every single second that she could, her favourite being when she knew that you couldn’t do anything about it, like in meetings.

She’d sit in the seat right behind you, leaning her head forward so that her chin would rest against your shoulder, and start to snack loudly on a granola bar or smacking her gum. The only thing you could do was sit there and take it, clenching your fist and wondering what it was you’d send in the text to Mini later that evening.

When Kyra would get told off by her team mom later that night she always looked at you, moving her thumb over her throat, telling you that you were dead.

But yet she kept on doing it, and you kept on telling Mini, it happened so often in fact that you too created a special bond with the older woman, her becoming a somewhat mother to you too. You always joined in on their facetime calls, Harper greatly appreciating you too.

Mini liked that Kyra had someone to goof around with at Arsenal, even if it did happen to be a 16 year old kid.

And as much as you liked and worked well with Kyra, not a single adult at Arsenal thought it was a good idea for you two to live with each other, no matter how much you begged and pleaded with them. Instead you were sent to live with Beth and Viv, whilst Kyra got her own apartment. That didn’t stop you from having sleepovers once a week however.

—------

Kyra breathing loudly directly beside your ear is the first thing you notice as you wake up from your nap in the community room at Arsenal, all groggy and confused, yet already annoyed by the girl’s incessant need to irritate you.

“Man, get the fuck out my ear!” Your voice is all scratchy and deep as you shout at the other girl, annoyance at her actions showing clearly on your face. More than a few heads snap up to look in your direction, quickly looking away when they notice the situation you find yourself in, many of them already knowing what the Aussie was doing.

“Awe is wittle baby Y/n a bit cranky from their nap?” Kyra antagonizes, trying to fuel the fire that was sure to start if she continued.

“You do remember that I know where you live? I can easily smother you in your sleep.” The girl’s knew to separate the two of you when the threats started flying, knowing that it could end with you two on the floor, wrestling or trying to strangle the other.

Alessia put her arm around a smiling Kyra’s waist, pulling her away from you even as she continued to breathe loudly, annoying you all the way from across the room. Viv sat down next to you on the bean bag, looking slightly irritated at your little outburst. She knew it wasn’t really your fault, but you’d been working with her on how to regulate your feelings.

“Y/n, we don’t threaten our friends, even when they’re being annoying. How about you go and apologise to Kyra and we’ll go get you some ice cream?” The dutchie was one of your many adoptive mothers in the squad, one of the more prominent ones as she knew exactly the pressure put on you as a young superstar in the making. She just wanted to help, often doing so by coming over with dinner for you and Kyra when you have your sleepovers, making sure that you didn’t trash your diets too much.

Looking down to the floor as you walk over to the older girl, she smiles at you mischievously like she knew exactly what it was you were doing. She knew that you’d been forced by your mom to apologize to her and she was enjoying the process of you going through all the stages of grief before getting to her.

Looking her in the eye, she sees the playful hate in your gaze, she already knew that you didn’t hate her but instead having to apologize for something that she caused.

“I’m sorry Kyra” Lowering your voice, she sees you look down at her in amusement. “I hope you know that I’m only doing this for the ice cream.” The Australian gasps in mock shock at your statement, but mostly at the fact that you’re allowed to get ice cream when she isn’t.

“VIV?! Why is Y/n getting ice cream and not me?” She catches the attention of the entire team with her bold accusation, most if not all of them rolling their eyes at her actions.

“Because Y/n doesn’t start fights, and she’s apologizing for threatening you.” Viv joins the others in rolling their eyes, taking hold of your shoulders as you make your way over to her, pulling you into a side hug.

With your backs to the young Aussie, neither of you notice the way she’s rushing towards you two, ready to absolutely throw herself onto you. She comes in with an awkward angle, her legs wrapping around both you and Vic’s waists, her arms locking around your necks, nearly choking you both out. Her head slots into the space between you and Viv’s heads.

Luckily enough for every Arsenal women’s fan ever, there’s a photographer there to capture the looks of absolute horror on you and the Dutch woman’s face and the unignorable grin on the Australian’s.

“Kyra Cooney-Cross get off right this second or I swear to god I will contact Katrina personally.” Viv comes off more than a little threatening, her voice deadly calm as she speaks to the younger girl. Kyra frowns playfully and slides down you and Viv’s excessively tall bodies, her feet touching the floor after a few seconds.

“What do they feed you dutchies? You need to stop being so tall, it’s annoying.” The short girl looks at you angrily when you pat her head like she was some sort of dog, waiting for a treat. She slaps your hand away when it comes down to pet her again and the only response she gets is a shrug from you as Viv drags you away to her car.

Only minutes later Kyra’s phone pings with a notification from instagram, seeing the ‘yourinstagram tagged you in a post’ had her stressing out. When she looked at the story you had tagged her in, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, it was a selfie of you and Viv with ice creams in your hands, you with the biggest smile ever on your face and Viv looking slightly fed up with you.

The caption you’d typed out was ‘revenge is best served cold, right @/kyracooneyx’, she reposted your story to her own, typing out a simple ‘I hate you’. But with your quick thinking and amazing humor, you quickly reply with your own story, a caption reading ‘tell that to the ice cream you didn’t get’.

Kyra couldn’t even lie and say that it wasn’t funny, the little giggle she let out an indicator of how she enjoyed the little back and forth.

————————————————

Everyone in the team agreed that the decision to put you and Kyra in the same car on the road-trip across the country was a bad idea. They knew that it would be torture, Kyra would chew in your ear, or simply just breathe loudly next to you, making you really fucking irritated. You would constantly touch her, poking at her like you weren’t afraid of losing your fingers.

The unfortunate person having to sit next to you and Kyra during the entire ride this time was none other than Alessia Russo, someone who really just wanted to sleep the entire 8 hour ride and skip your bullshit, obviously that didn’t happen.

“WHO LET KYRA HAVE SNACKS? I’m going to kill you.” Alessia sat to your left, rubbing her temples at the already growing headache, Kyra sat to your right, a sucker in her mouth and three loud crinkly bags of crisps in her lap. You were in the middle seat, a frankly uncomfortable seat seeing as you were the tallest in the entire car, knees bent inwards trying to fit your long legs between the seats.

“Yeah, Viv did you not ban snacks so that this wouldn’t happen?” Beth questions the forward, who meets Kyra’s guilty gaze in the rearview mirror, looking at her sternly. Viv sighs like she knew it would happen before reaching her hand back and asking for Kyra’s snacks. When she begrudgingly hands them over, you look at her with a huge grin on your face.

“Thank you pa, you’re my hero, saving me from the evil supervillain ready to chew in my ear.” Viv gets a little embarrassed and emotional at you calling her pa, the Dutch name for father you had nicknamed her was something you only called her in private.

“Aww Vivi, did you get a bit embarrassed?” Beth teases her girlfriend gently, tugging lightly at her dark red cheek. It was lucky you’d stopped at a red light, otherwise Viv would’ve probably crashed the car.

All of a sudden, when you’re distracted by Beth and Viv interacting, you hear a couple of loud chews of what sounds like at least 6 sticks of gum. The way you recoil is almost instant, throwing your body into Alessia’s open arms, the woman glaring at Kyra for doing that, AGAIN. Alessia liked cuddling you though so it wasn’t all that bad.

She definitely can’t complain when you fall asleep in less than 5 minutes either, though having to give Kyra a stare down as she tried to tickle your sides definitely wasn’t a highlight of her day.

Within 25 minutes of your departure from the training grounds, Kyra was already complaining about needing to pee, only answering with a shrug and a simple ‘I didn’t need to go then’ when asked why she didn’t go at home.

Viv sighs as she stops at the gas station in the middle of nowhere, Alessia waking you up so that you too could go to the toilet.

“Oh for fucks sake Kyra, you don’t need all that candy. I swear I’m more of an adult than you are.” You told the Australian girl as you came into the gas station, moving towards the bathroom. It looked like you could get every STD possible from simply being in there.

When you exited it was with a grossed out expression, that was until you spotted the slushy machines lined up against the wall. You lit up like a child on christmas morning when you spotted it, quickly filling a cup whilst you commanded her to get you a sprite, the cashier taking a quick peek at you bouncing up and down in anticipation of your drink.

After you paid, you instructed Kyra to pour about half the sprite into the slushy cup, letting her taste it after she’d promised on her mothers life not to make any sound.

“That’s delicious, where did you learn to do that?” She questions you, moving to buy her own slushy and sprite.

“I don’t know, I just did it once and it tasted great. Now you better hurry up because I think Viv is going to kill us if we’re not in the car soon.” With that, Kyra hurries up.

You’re both in the car in record time, all the actual adults in the car’s eyes widening at the half full slushy glasses in your hands.

Only a few minutes later, both you and Kyra are in full on sugar rush mode, singing along with the song on the radio loudly, swaying in your seats as you pretend you’re on the big stage somewhere. They’re all pleasantly surprised when you belt out the riff to Keyshia Cole’s Love, it being legitimately good.

As were Alessia’s instagram followers, the girl posting a video of you singing like you’d just had your heart broken, well that was until you were interrupted by Kyra snacking loudly right next to your ear.

“LOOOOOOVE NEVER KNEW WHAT I WAS MISS- KYRA GET THE FUCK OUT MY EAR.” She does look a little sheepish as she does it this time, pretty clearly not even registering that she was chewing with her mouth open.

Though she doesn’t stay sheepish for long, just like you don’t stay mad for long, because ‘I want it that way’ by the backstreet boys suddenly came on the radio, and that was always you and Kyra’s karaoke song.

It only took you a few more songs for the sugar crash to hit, you and Kyra suddenly going from duetting on songs to snoring loudly in the backseat.

Luckily enough for everyone in the car you managed to stay asleep through the whole ride, only waking up a few times to tell Kyra to ‘get the fuck out my ear’.

Literally everyone is confused when you turn up to the camping site, half asleep and clinging to Kyra tightly, Beth soon taking you from the younger girl so that she could start helping to set up the tents.

“They didn’t cause too much trouble, did they? I know how they can be.” Kim comes up to stand beside Beth, who shakes her head diligently.

“No, they slept most of the ride, they were both drinking some slushy and then had a sugar crash after singing for half an hour.” Beth smiles at you tenderly, the motherly affection clearly something she’d picked up from her own mother.

“Aw well that’s good then.” Kim says quietly, noticing you drooling slightly with your eyes half open, looking like those orange cats you always showed her.

———————

“Kyra if you don’t get the fuck out my ear I will kill you.” It wasn’t even her fault that she was sniffly, she’d caught something from Harper at camp and when you asked if you could come over for your sleepover, she didn’t hesitate.

She looked at you sadly, like she was heartbroken by your insensitive words. It makes you sad to see her like that, so you quickly bring her into your arms, asking for forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry Ky Ky, how about I make you some soup yk feel better?” She nodded wholeheartedly at your words, sitting on the counter as you made your famous soup.

And even though you had to keep yourself from being angry at her every single second, you wouldn’t trade being at Kyra’s home cooking for her for anything.

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #01

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.4k+

𝐚/𝐧: this bombass comeback wouldn't be as amazing and special if it weren't for @kithtaehyung who made the best new mh banner anyone could ever make!!! ryen, thank you bub so much for putting up with my indecisive ass and taking the time to make not only this banner but different versions before that! I truly appreciate it and I'm thankful you're a part of this!!

ogs know this one is reposted but I hope everyone will enjoy it whether they're rereading it or reading for the first time! lastly, thank you for the endless love and support, i love y'all ♡

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

The hallway looks exactly the same, which there isn't any reason why it should look different all of a sudden, but considering you haven't been in this building for the past few weeks just makes you want to notice the slightest change. But there is none. It still smells sterile with a little bit of sweetness which reminds you of cinnamon. You're not sure why, nor do you really dwell on it too much.

You could imagine your Thursday evening differently, which means laying down as soon as you come home and turn on Netflix, trying to spend at least twenty minutes finding a good show. That's been your routine for weeks now, but you're not complaining. It feels that void of loneliness in your smart one bedroom apartment.

Although, you can't help but feel nervous when you picture the message you got from Jimin.

'come to Jungkook's, he needs us' 

He never explained anything further, nor replied to the tons of your messages or missed calls. You wouldn't be on the edge, if you've seen or heard from Jungkook. Apart from some occasional messages like 'what's up' or 'what were you doing today?', your communication went downhill. But you don't blame him or yourself for it. You were both busy and probably still are, to even hangout like you always used to.

It bothered you for some time, not hanging out with your best friend like you used to. But you've grown used to that small but painful fact that you don't have to see each other every day. Plus, after some time you've realized, you can still be best friends with someone without having to chat with them 24/7. Gratefulness is how you'd describe your feelings. Grateful that your friendship works, even though you don't get to spend your time with each other that often.

Your knuckles meet the wood of Jungkook's front door in a gentle manner, which is a complete opposite of your inside feelings as you've this weird feeling inside of you. The message Jimin sent you was weird and you haven't heard from anyone since then.

And when the door finally opens, you're glad you're met with Jimin himself as he stares at you with hopeful eyes and a breath of relief that escapes his plush lips. You rush inside, already taking off your shoes and jacket while you confusingly stare at your friend that looks more than relieved to see you.

"What the hell happened? You never texted me back." you tell him, or more like scold him rather than properly greet him.

"Ah, sorry," he cringes, pulling out his phone before he notices the bunch of messages and missed calls from you. "It's just—"

"This is bullshit."

The grumpy and raspy voice unintentionally cuts him off, booming inside of the apartment causing your ears to naturally perk up. Is it just you or his voice got deeper? You look at Jimin with a questioning gaze, who sees the confusion on your features as you hear Jungkook's grumpy and annoyed voice. Rather than explaining something to you, he sighs and with a quick cock of his head towards the living room, you both walk inside.

You're surprised when you see Taehyung there as well, opening a beer can before he pushes it into Jungkook's hands. Surprisingly, the mentioned guy is slouched on his beige couch, wearing one of his baggy shirts and loose sweatpants with his hair looking like he hasn't brushed them for days.

Taehyung's eyes meet yours as soon as you step in, noticing the mess around including two pizza boxes thrown on the floor and empty cans of coke and beer on the coffee table. "Oh, thank god!" Taehyung breathes out the same sigh of relief, causing you to greet him with a confused 'hello'.

Although, you don't wait for any reaction because your best friend finally acknowledges your presence in his home, head lazily turning in your direction as you walk up to him.

"Great," he mutters, almost rolling eyes at the sight of you. "Who called her?" he eyes the two of his best friends, scoffing before he takes a gulp of the beer that Taehyung handed him.

"What kind of reaction is that, asshole?" you react right away, frowning at your best friend that hasn't seen you for weeks and this is his first reaction.

"Don't mind him, please. He's just a little bit drunk right now." Jimin quickly jumps into an action, noticing your fireback and unappreciative tone that's aimed at none other than Jungkook himself.

He rolls his eyes at Jimin words, but doesn't say anything else before Taehyung watches you with cautious doe eyes. He sits in a chair, arm leaned against his knee as he anxiously bites his nails even though he tries to act casual. You don't buy it.

"What the fuck is going on?" you ask them, pointing towards Jungkook that looks like a truck just hit him.

Jimin opens his mouth, but Jungkook glares at him which ends up with him shutting it right away and when you look at Taehyung, he doesn't even spare you a glance.

"Which one of you called her?" Jungkook speaks up, eyeing the two of his friends as they point to each other causing you to snort. Cowards. "I'm fine. I don't see a reason why you make such a big deal out of this. I'm fine."

The fact that he had to repeat the same sentence twice, just proves that no — he's not fine. And before the wheels in your head start to work and roll, Jimin's voice speaks up in a clear, yet quick tempo.

"Kiko broke up with Jungkook."

The room goes silent, faint sounds coming out of the television are filling out the thick silence in the room as Jungkook freezes, not even glaring at his friend that apologetically shrugs at him.

One of the reasons why you haven't got to see your best friend that often is, that he simply found a girlfriend. Trying to combine his work, personal love life and you was already hard. But you get it. You're not mad or annoyed at him, because the two of you still kept in touch. It was just a matter of time until some of you found someone and naturally, there wouldn't be that much time to spend your days together. It was bound to happen and you knew Jungkook would be the first one to find someone.

He's your best friend, but you're not blind. He's one of the most handsome guys you've ever met, not just that but his personality is something that most girls would fall for. His attitude is pissy right now and now, you know the true reason behind it. But the Jungkook you know, is one of the most caring people you know. And not only that, but he's funny, intelligent and perfect at almost everything. He's the whole package and any girl would be lucky to snatch him.

And that girl, or perhaps you should say a woman, happened to be Kiko. A Japanese beauty that their mutual friend introduced them to one another. It clicked off immediately. Even you've noticed it when Jungkook Rain checked almost every plan you had together. He started to stare into his phone with all those puppy heart eyes whenever she texted him. At first, you found it annoying because it was just plain rude, watching him text her every five seconds instead of trying to hang out with you. But then, you just stopped caring and whenever you went silent, he'd just pushed his phone away and tried to gain your attention.

It was stupid, because you knew if you gave him attitude or silent treatment, he would just feel bad and tried to focus on you. Until the both of you stopped hanging out with each other that much.

"She did?" you mutter, staring at Jungkook who stares in front of him with a wiped out gaze. You've never seen him in this kind of state. "I'm sorry, Kook."

"Yeah, well, shit happens." he grumbles, clenching his jaw as he takes another gulp of beer that's securely clenched in his hand.

You've seen Jungkook having a couple of girlfriends, but you know that his relationship with Kiko was different. He wasn't just any girlfriend that he tried to get to know, she was someone that he completely fell for and couldn't stop talking about. He's in love. And even though he's being an ass to his friends right now, it's just his coping mechanism and you know that whatever Jimin and Taehyung has been doing, hasn't helped much. He plays tough right now, hiding his true feelings under this cold and uninterested facade but you know him better.

And when he keeps glancing at you before he quickly looks away, it's almost as if he can hear your exact thoughts.

"Well," you hastily speak, clapping your hands together as you lightly smile at everyone in the room. "You don't wanna date anyone whose name is Kiko." you try to joke, a laugh and snort erupting from Jimin and Taehyung who has obviously found your little joke funny.

Jungkook on the other hand, looks even more pissed off because he never looked at you with so much anger and annoyance as he's looking right now, causing you to squirm in your spot. "Real class, Y/N." he barks at you, causing you to slump in defeat before Jimin squeezes your shoulders in comfort.

"I brought you banana milk. I didn't know what happened, so I thought this would be a nice and quick save." you lightly tell him, sitting at the end of the couch, next to his sprawled legs but he doesn't move them away.

"Jeez, I'm not some fucking kid. Banana milk won't fix my broken heart." he scoffs, shaking his head while the three of you are even surprised that he just admitted that he has a broken heart. Well, clearly but since he's been putting up this tough act, it still comes as a shock. Judging by the look of Jimin's and Taehyung's face, they seem to think the same thing.

"I know that, Kook," you quietly tell him, hastily grabbing one of his ankles as you squeeze it in a manner to comfort him. He doesn't budge, that means something. "Is there anything we can do for you?" you ask him, not really sure if he's even going to answer that.

His brows furrow while he fumbles with his fingers, the slightest pout adoring his small lips as he thinks your question through. The three of you watch him with curious eyes, wondering what the hell is this guy thinking of. He looks at you, then at Jimin and Taehyung before he softly sighs.

"I mean... there's nothing you guys can do." he says softly, taking another gulp of beer that tastes like piss. Korean beer is just not good, and you're surprised that Jungkook even drinks it. But he never had any problem with any alcohol, that man can drink and eat anything.

There's nothing you can think of that could possibly help him out of his heartbreak. The only thing for you to do, is to be there for him. And if drinking a beer that tastes like piss is some kind of twisted way of helping him, you're in. So, you reach out and grab one of the unopened cans before you open it with a loud 'click', taking a gulp of it.

"What are you doing?" Jungkook sits up, staring at your scrunched nose and distaste written all over your face.

"Drinking with you." you shrug, taking another huge gulp of it. The more you drink it, the less it tastes awful.

"But you hate this beer." he reminds you, scowling at you and your nonstop gulping, hand twitching to get it away from you.

"I know," you shrug, grinning at him. "It doesn't taste that bad. Now come on," you nudge him with your leg, raising your can to him. "Cheers." you call out to him, ignoring his big doe eyes that stare at you with a slight confusion before he sighs.

"Cheers." he mutters, clicking his can against yours before the both of you take another gulp.

The two of you are completely unaware of your friends' faces that are washed with relief and knowing eyes as they stare at you and Jungkook. All it took was just to call you to save the day. Jungkook might not be in his greatest mood or show his appreciation for you to be there for him, but drinking without constant complaining and cursing is still a better result that Jimin and Taehyung managed to get.

"I've never thought I'd ever drink this much of this piss beer." you croak out, putting another empty can onto Jungkook's messy coffee table. You sit back, head falling onto his shoulder as you silently inhale his scent. It always reminded you of his fabric softener that smells like a baby, mixed with his cologne that is very faint on his clothes.

"How do you know what piss tastes like?" Jungkook asks, raising his brow at you while the corner of his lips twitches in amusement. "Do you wanna tell me about your weird kinks?" he cocks his head at you, causing you to groan as you hit his shoulder but it does nothing to him, he doesn't even budge.

A chuckle roars in the back of his throat, a first sound that can be considered as a positive emotion.

"It's not like that." you mutter, growing embarrassed at the thought of Jungkook thinking about your kinks. Not that you know about them that much. You might think there are some things you might like, but you never had anyone to try it with. How possibly could you know? But the idea of you having a piss kink, or whatever that's called, makes you want to gag. Maybe it's the beer or just a single thought of it, who knows.

Jimin and Taehyung already left, once they saw Jungkook loosening up, they took that chance to go home and leave the two of you alone. Not even once he talked about his heartbreak, you silently watched a TV show that Jungkook turned on whilst drinking a beer and munching on some crackers that Taehyung handed you before they left.

Glancing at Jungkook, his face is illuminated from the screen whilst he's watching a TV show with slightly furrowed brows. And when it finally stops, he sighs and grabs the remote to browse through some other movies and TV shows. He keeps browsing through them for a couple of minutes, muttering a pair of curses when he can't find anything he likes. You turn on the lamp in the very corner of his living room, causing him to frown even more from the sudden light.

You sit next to him, staring at him as he sighs and looks back at you. "What?" he asks unbothered, the remote still clutched in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Kook," you tell him silently, reaching for his shoulder which you squeeze in comfort, like you previously did with his ankle. "I know that you loved her."

And you see his facade crack, when he sucks his bottom lip as he quickly looks away from you to blink away the tears that are threatening to fall. You've never seen him this vulnerable.

"Love," he mutters, causing you to let out a confused 'huh?' in response. "Not loved her, but love. I still love her." he corrects you.

"Why did she break up with you? You don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable enough, but you guys seemed so close together."

It doesn't make any sense. Jungkook kept talking about her even through your messages, and you could practically feel the happiness radiating from his single messages. His whole Instagram is filled with their pictures, or just single shots of Kiko that Jungkook has taken and captioned with a single heart emoji. You've never seen him being so in love before. That's when you've realized that Kiko is different from any other women that Jungkook was seeing.

You don't push him into answering, the last thing you want for him is to get upset with you. But you can't keep walking around eggshells for this whole night.

"Apparently, she just wants some time for herself. She wants to explore other things, whatever the fuck that means." he bitterly chuckles, eyes filled with anger but you know it's just hidden hurt.

"Maybe you'll find someone else, Kook. You're still young."

Scoffing, he shakes his head. "She's the love of my life. I really doubt there's someone else for me. I was about to ask her to move in with me."

Shit, he's really serious about her.

"You did?"

He nods, biting onto his lower lip before he lets it go, fumbling his eyes before he sighs in defeat. "I love her." he whispers, his voice sounding so vulnerable that it makes your heart clench.

You go straight into hugging him, enveloping his huge body to yours as he starts to cry into your chest. For the first time, he finally breaks in front of someone else rather than himself. He clutches to your body, tears wetting your shirt but you don't mind it, grabbing him even tighter. He cries, something he doesn't usually do in front of everyone. You realize how he kept holding himself in front of Taehyung and Jimin when all he wanted was to cry it out.

"It's okay, you're going to be okay." you tell him, cheeks pressed against his hair that got super long since you've last seen him.

He sniffles, wiping his eyes before he slightly pulls away. "It happened two weeks ago and I'm still such a fucking mess." he scoffs at himself.

"Two weeks ago?" you exclaim, surprised by the new information. "It happened two weeks ago and I know just... now?"

He glares at you and you quickly shut your mouth. "Not everything is about you, Y/N." he reminds you.

Rolling your eyes, you're about to curse at him for being so rude but then you remember his state. He's just hurt and in a way, he's right. "No, that's not what I meant. I just... I'm surprised that you didn't tell me sooner. If it weren't for Jimin, I don't think I'd be here right now." you explain, thinking about all possibilities that could happen.

"I was going to," he mutters, reaching for a bottle of water instead as he takes a few gulps. "But I needed some time to myself. I didn't want anyone to see me like this." he points out towards his slightly puffed eyes.

You just wished he'd tell you sooner. But you don't tell him that. It's not selfish to think that, because you just wanted to be there for him sooner. Nobody should go through such a heartbreak alone. Not when he has you and other two friends willing to be there for him.

"You know that you can tell me anything, right? I'm always here for you." you remind him, flushed cheeks when you see his eyes already set on you.

The friendship between you and Jungkook is mostly surrounded with you teasing each other and in a way, he's like an older brother to you. You don't get all sentimental with each other, even though you're always there for one another. It's an unspoken rule and natural feeling that your friendship has.

"I know," he says softly, giving you the best little smile he can muster. "And I'm so grateful for that. I know I was acting like an asshole and I'm sorry, I just... I'm really happy that you're here."

You don't get to hear such words often, especially coming out of Jungkook's mouth, but that's why you're even more pleased to hear them.

You smile back at him, silently thanking him and also saying that it's okay and you get it. It's quiet for a moment. Jungkook fumbles with his fingers as you silently watch him, noticing a few new tattoos that decorate his honey skin.

"Y/N?" he asks suddenly, causing you to hum in return. " You know when you asked me, if there's something you could do for me?"

"Oh, boy. What is it this time?" you joke, causing him to silently chuckle under his breath.

What could he possibly want to know? The last time he wanted something from you, was to clean his whole apartment because he twisted his ankle. But whatever that comes out of his mouth next, never occurred to you before.

"Can you pretend to be my girlfriend?"

© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 (𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝) | don't forget to reblog ♡

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Vash being flustered by compliments, acting like a total loser please? Lots of “Buwuhh?! uhhh I- That’s really kind of you to-” or him spilling his drink, stumbling on nothing and trying to laugh it off, moments would be extremely appreciated. 🙏♥️

Aweeee thanks for this request!

(note I wrote this with Tristamp Vash in mind)

...........

"You know..your laugh is adorable."

In an instant, Vash fell into silence, the tips of his ears turning a pinkish hue as he stared at you from across the table. With a drink in one hand, he shakily set it down--only to clumsily spilling small droplets onto the flat surface.

But he tried to play it cool by propping his elbow over the mess, smiling. "Ahaha..thanks. That's...actually very nice of you to say. Most people think my laughs are "evil", but-"

"Oh that's nonsense." You leaned over a bit, smirking as you could see the nervous sweat beginning to manifest along your partner's hairline. "That's because they don't know what genuine laughter is. One as joyous as yours is so hard to come by these days. You've been through a lot. Endured things that would easily kill a person's spirit. And here you are, still finding ways to laugh and smile and see the good in others."

"Well..I..I think I deserve to do that every once in a while."

"Of course you do. Your smiles are brighter than the damn sun...and your hair, for that matter. But all that kindness and hope? Your emphasis on "love and peace"? That's attractive."

Your wink is what nearly sent the Humanoid Typhoon over the edge, as he squeaked in surprise at your words, before noticing Meryl, Roberto, and Wolfwood at their own table, having a chat about the worms in the sand and sky...only for their gazes to land on him.

Knowing smirks appeared on their faces when they realized what was going on.

You were flustering the hell out of Vash.

It only made his growing blush worsen, and he sheepishly threw his hood over his head to hide it, turning back to you. "Th-They're watching us, you know.." He mumbled.

"So what? Let them watch. They already know how smitten you are over me, anyway." You chuckled and reached a hand out. His advanced prosthetic fingers instinctively reached back, intertwining their coldness with your warmth. "I love your arm, too. It's amazing, perfect...just like you, honey."

"Ah...! Thank you...h-honey. Haha.." At this point, he knew he lost the war..you were just too damn good at this. Pushing away your compliments was useless now, so he resolved to just covering his face with his free hand.

His heart was hammering uncontrollably, and for once in his life..it wasn't due to the adrenaline of fleeing from gun-totting bandits or cyborgs.

It was because of love.

The very thing he hoped to stand for.

Ever since getting together with Vash, and learning how hard he often was on himself..you made it your mission to let him know how much you adored him.

He was afraid you'd be scared off by the bounty on his head, or the fact he had to constantly be on the move...or that a whole town could turn on him at the drop of a hat....or that twin brother of his would find you two.

But you've made it clear time and time again that you weren't leaving his side no matter what, and by god you were sticking to that promise even when he attempted to push you away a few times before.

You'd go anywhere in No Man's Land, unless it wasn't with him.

The moment he realized you're in this for the long run, you helped him let his guard down a little, defending his name and trying to show him common traditions of human couples--or at least..whichever ones you could recreate on this planet.

Even when you weren't around him, people would ask what "horrors" you've faced during your encounters with the "terrifying" Vash the Stampede, imagining you barely escaping with your life while he smiles and laughs at the mass destruction and death that surrounds him..

But what they don't know (and probably never will) is that his smiles and laughs were simply the products of your endless ways of complimenting him...such as right now.

You had this man--who had the power to bring down an empire if he wanted to--stammering over his words, acting incredibly shy, and being unusually giggly. And he's barely touched a drop of liquor since your small group stopped in the bar for refuge from the desert heat.

Some of the patrons wondered how drunk he was to be acting the way he did, while others looked upon you two with fondness, now convinced that love may not be dead just yet.

As long as Vash was here, that will continue to exist, and you'll be there to show him that he's worthy of it, too.