#it's been MONTHS now. free my man he did everything wrong but he belongs in my arms. free him.

[icharchivist]

gotta admit i admire Solas committing to his title of "God of Misfortune" so bad that the plush i ordered of him is going through another misfortune on the way home

and the commitment to having his poor Vhenan waiting so fucking long for him to come back home, also,

[toovaeloe]

bus stop 𝝑𝝔 “If I was your boyfriend, you sure as hell wouldn’t be waiting at a bus stop.”

suguru geto x genderneutral reader

no curse au

You’ve used the “I have a boyfriend” excuse and you may have just manifested one. Or a gorgeous man, at the very least

☁️🚏☁️

This was the worst, you think. Had to be punishment for something you did in a past life.

For starters, you were late for work. Was it your fault for staying up so late, giggling and doom-scrolling through mounds of mind numbing media? Yeah, maybe…

Let’s blame it on the weather. Your alarm didn’t wake you up after you silenced it. The neighbor’s dog wouldn’t stop barking through the night. But it’s not like you could tell your boss any off that.

So that’s why you raced out the door, haphazardly juggling your belongings in your arms. Wallet. Keys. Phone. Something else you couldn’t quite remember at the moment. Did you have everything? Probably; no time to check now. Only to find when you stomped on the brake and turned the key in the ignition…your car wouldn’t start.

Sputter…sputter…and then nothing.

Great.

There’s your late-to-work-excuse.

Maybe you shouldn’t have ignored the “maintenance needed” symbols that have been lighting up your dash like they want their own holiday. To be fair, time and money just weren’t things that came in abundance.

In any case, as you were sitting in that local garage enduring the mechanic babbling on about vehicle expertise junk you just couldn’t begin to understand, zoning out and nodding every few minutes with a halfhearted “hmm,” so it at least looked like you were absorbing information…you made note to at least revisit the idea of changing your smoke alarm’s batteries before it decided to turn on you, too.

But that was last week.

7-9 business days.

That’s how long until your car would be up and running again. Apparently, according to the mechanic, you were lucky it was even that. Apparently. Which meant you needed some other means of transportation to and from work and such.

Lucky you had the local bus service, right?

WRONG.

They were always late, but you still felt the need to get to the stops on time, lest you have a repeat of 5 days ago. (You showed up only 2 minutes late and were left behind at the store. Had to wait for an hour for your friend to get off her shift and come pick you up.) You highly doubted it, but what with the way the world was shitting on you right now, it wasn’t out of the question. And the city’s money obviously wasn’t going towards public transportation— they could qualify as garbage trucks if they really needed them with how trashed they were. Mystery sticky patches on the seat, gum underneath. The inconsolable children whining their heads off. That was kind of cute at first, but now it made you want to throw yourself out the window. The whole thing was just the experience that you could expect from a free public transportation system.

And why was it so rainy this month??? Ugh.

But what could you do but make do with what you had? Complaining definitely wasn’t making your shoes any less waterlogged. Be grateful, or some shit like that.

That evening, however, as you were waiting twenty minutes past the time the bus was supposed to arrive at the stop after an exhausting work day…you were just so fed up with everything. With the puddle water soaking through your shoes, with the way you had to stand because the benches were damp…with this rando-guy who had walked up next to you that you were half sure kept looking at you. To say the least, it only served to annoy you in your already sour mood.

You were willing to just ignore it. Until he stepped closer.

“Hey I’m uh…I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you around.”

Oooohh boy.

“Yeah, yeah, it is you. I’ been taking the bus sometimes. Usually I’m riding my motorcycle but uh, not today.”

Did you ask?

“Thought I’d drop by.”

The public bus stop. (???)

“What’s yer name, toots?”

Yeah no. Go back to the 1950’s and maybe that’d work there. You’d rather lick the mystery sticky shit off the bus seat. You could pick up a date 10x better without opposable thumbs.

All of the above is what you would’ve liked to say. Alas, you were tired. You didn’t want trouble that would take more energy than it was worth. So before he could go any further, you just coined the foolproof line.

“I have a boyfriend.”

Lie. You didn’t, but it was the first thing that came to mind. And if that didn’t make him lose interest, then he must really be a pathetic asswipe.

Sadly, he was. In terms of getting the hint to shut up, the guy looked barely deterred; offended even, as he prattled on.

“Well why were you acting so into me then, huh?” You definitely didn’t. You don’t even know this dude.

“I wasn’t even going for you.” He definitely was.

“You’re—“ X, Y, and Z. Just because his game is trifling?? You felt a headache coming on. And maybe a bout of anxiety. People are crazy, and the last thing you wanted was for this needless situation to escalate into something dangerous.

The entire mess was occurring just as Suguru was making the commute to work on the same street. But he found himself slowing nearly to a stop when he caught sight of you.

How could a person look so exhausted; hair extra frizzy, floccose from the humid rain, clothes soaked, droplets of the downpour dribbling onto your cheeks and blinked away from your lashes…and still so breathtaking? Or perhaps that was part of your beauty in this moment. You looked every bit done with the day, but who knew when- if— he’d ever see you again? He’d be stupid, a fool to not at least try to strike up a conversation with you. He’d be…

…Probably like that idiot.

A sulky moue twisted at his expression as he witnessed the disgraceful way this loser was fumbling. Oh dear. His approach lacked so much grace, so much respect…it was really just distasteful. You didn’t deserve that. And frankly, he didn’t think he deserved to watch you be treated like that when he knew he could do so much better.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!”

A merry sounding tone directed your way had your head sharply whipping to the source. A tall dark haired man you’ve never seen before; layered in a gray colored quarter zip and dark slacks, you think. His approach was casual and relaxed, a subtly jovial yet inherently guileful grin tugging at his lips. He even waved to you like an old friend. His entire facade was so convincing you considered for a moment if you had known him from somewhere and simply forgotten.

No, you really wouldn’t have forgotten a face like that. Eyes like those. A presence so contrasting of itself and yet so cohesive in its own way, if you had to try and describe it. Just a damn beautiful man. With eyebrows that were beginning to crease on his forehead.

Ooh, you were staring.

More than that, he was giving you a pointed look that you didn’t notice while drooling over the poor guy. Unfortunately for you, slo-mo’s only happened in movies, and in reality you just looked like an ogling dork. But you didn’t have time to dwell on your embarrassment when he was quite obviously urging you to play along with this illusion he was creating.

And so you did.

“Oh- hi! No worries,” You insisted in an awkward attempt to adapt to this new charade.

“‘Hasn’t been that long,” though your reaction to his presence wasn’t as well-articulated, it was convincing enough.

The other dude looked to be at least somewhat suspicious, and might’ve spoken on it if wasn’t for Geto’s scrutinizing gaze and a simple raise of his brow.

“Can I help you?” And just for good measure, he’d wrap his arm around you, sliding his hand into your coat pocket as if he’s done it a million times before to pull you closer against him. Whatever glare this ravenette man was glowering down the length of his nose at this guy with must’ve been scarring, because he murmured some half-assed excuse before scampering away.

You idly wondered how’d he get wherever he was going without the bus.

Or maybe you’d have more time to think about it if your brain wasn’t short-circuiting, acutely aware of the unworldly attractive man’s hand resting just over your hip.

“Sorry,” Geto spoke after a few beats, languidly retracting his arm from your coat and back to his side. “You looked like you were about to burst a blood vessel entertaining him. I hope I didn’t overstep. Y’know, with your boyfriend and all.” He had to have overheard you earlier.

But the way he spoke made it sound as if he doubted that fact, glancing to either side of you as if to say That is nowhere in sight..? without being so overtly rude. Or maybe he just wasn’t all that apologetic.

“That-! Yeah,” You pepped with a nervous pitter of laughter, “yeah…it’s not a problem, thanks.”

Your hand gravitated to the zipper of your jacket, absentmindedly fiddling with it as you frantically thought up an at least half decent explanation. One that wouldn’t make you sound more clumsy than you already felt.

“He’s not real, so he won’t mind.”

Yeah, real smooth. What was that you said; about being able to pick up a date without opposable thumbs? You’d need at least ten pairs of hands.

But Suguru didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his grin widened into something toothy and almost boyish, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that added an innocent charm to his otherwise elegant features. He found it endearing.

“Perfect,” His response was coupled with a discreet chuckle.

“Don’t feel obligated,” He’d continue as he reached to the side of you. So close to brushing your shoulder, it made your breath hitch. Though truly he was reaching around you, sharply tearing a flier from the side of the bus stop and pulling a pen from one of his pockets. If you were paying more attention you’d have noticed the glint of impish amusement in his umber eyes that led one to believe that action was more deliberate than he let on.

Still, he’d make quick work of jotting down a phone number and the address of a nice restaurant he’s been meaning to try with Satoru— but plans change. “but I’d like to take you out. I was on my way over to ask you, anyhow.”

He offered the page to you; his handwriting as sumptuous and calligraphic as you would’ve expected his penmanship to be; in the margins of some tacky ad for a lawn mowing service. As you went to accept the paper, however, he rescinded it from reach. All whilst drawing closer so that his piercing dark amber eyes held your gaze with an unwavering intensity. The kind that made your stomach do flips and stole your breath away.

“And for the record,” He spoke quietly but poised; a conspiratorial whisper for only you, him, and the rain to witness. “if I was your boyfriend, you sure as hell wouldn’t be waiting at a bus stop.”

There wasn’t time to react; he was already slipping the page into your pocket, withdrawing to a comfortable proximity all the while waving you off and wishing you well with a kind smile, disappearing someplace else.

You didn’t even catch his name.

At least your bus was here.

a/n: I had something to say but I totally forgot 😭

OH but I did add an upcoming section to my masterlist so you can see my works in the works if you’d like! ���� always open to ideas too

Dear god I crave geto with that loose low bun that’s barely a bun kind of hairstyle. Ykwim???

ty for reading 🤍🤍🤍 love you have a lovely lovely day or night

edit: OMG THATS WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY. I kept accidentally writing bust stop instead of bus stop as I wrote this. So, sorry if you bust

☁️☁️☁️

[ladybirdswritings]

Pretty Thing - Cooper Howard (Ghoul) x Reader

Summary: You're a shiny, pretty prize worth more caps than can be counted on ten hands altogether. There's something special about you, and the Ghoul is determined to figure out just what it is.

Notes: I caved, so here is part 2 <3! Lmk if u love this and I'll write more (feel free to leave me lots of comments and interactions, they motivate me!!)

pt. 1 | A03 | masterlist

pretty thing | 2…

“Please kindly rectify that you did not kidnap this innocent lady and you’re just— borrowing her.”

Their voices were a muffled, incoherent sound. Like ocean waves, rising and falling into pocketed parts of your brain.

“Well sweetie, I could go on n’ lie to you if it helps ya’ sleep better. Then again, I don’t much care how good you sleep.”

The sound of hissing air being breathed in with a moan, and exhaled with a grunt followed those words. The voice was familiar. Sudden, hazy flashes of the Ghoul circling you like a shark reentered your hectic mind. The other voice… it belonged to the doe-eyed brunette.

“Coop, kidnapping is wrong. Besides, what use do we have for another responsibility? What’s left of the NCR would have gladly taken her in as one of their own. Another vault, even, a good one! You’re robbing her of that choice!”

A gruff, deep hum left the Ghoul’s lips.

“Doll, I don’t give a rat’s ass bout’ the NCR. I ain’t no saint, vaultie. Rough economy these days n’ she looks like a useful lil’ thing, don’t she? Besides— she’s in a far better place than the one those underground skillet boys you like to fuck had her holed up in.“

Warmth was encasing your wounded skin, prickling at your senses. It was the most alive you’d felt… the closest you’d been to consciousness in months. Yet, you couldn’t quite pry your gaze apart.

“It’s just wrong…” the brunette whispered after a long moment’s pass.

No matter how wrong it was, well, the Ghoul didn’t much care. He knew well that Lucy would be on her way soon and he couldn’t do much to stop her. Now, he had been a lone wolf for centuries but— there was something about company that made him feel less ghoulish and more— human.

Silently, he liked that.

“You find that tin-lover of yours?” The Ghoul asked, hoping to steer Lucy’s mind away from her moral dilemmas. It worked, because her gaze lit up once more.

“Nope! But I did find some leads. Once we make our way to the city where we were headed, I’ll detour for approximately four days and then if all goes well, I’ll find you again! But with Maximus… doesn’t it sound amazing?”

The city?

“Hm. Guess so. Only thing is, tin-man could be dead by time we get to the city. Now— if I was you, I’d get gone and find him fore’ those roaches start to pick him apart.” There was a mischievous kind of joy at the idea of it, and it was laced proudly in his voice.

Silence again, warmth prickling stronger. Closer.

“But what about you, Coop?”

His laugh was a hoarse, aged and cold sound. As if to say everything his words could not. Lucy understood it immediately. She knew well that the Ghoul could hold his own. He’d done it for 200 and some years, after all. Perhaps she’d grown comfortable working as a team. Perhaps…

But Maximus…

“You’re right. Better to get a head start… what about the girl? She’s high profile. You know those keepers are gonna come right after you and they won’t stop. Us vault-dwellers can be incredibly persistent about the things we are passionate for.”

You couldn’t see it— not while you slumbered, but the Ghoul could only smirk at sweet Lucy’s words. Proud and mangled.

“Oh I know, sweetie. N’ don’t you worry bout’ pretty thing over there. She’s gon’ be well taken care of.”

A threat? A promise? An idea? Perhaps all three— perhaps all at once.

“…right. Look, I grabbed this on my way out. It’s a file— her file. Maybe you’ll figure out what you should do after you read it.”

As if the Ghoul hadn’t figured it out entirely already.

Pretty thing was worth something.

You were worth something. So? He’d do whatever he needed to so to get whatever the fuck made you so special out of you, and he’d drown in caps for it. Enough caps to buy him another century worth of yellow vials. Another century to find his family.

“Mm. Get goin’, MacLean.”

With a nod, she did— bidding farewell to dogmeat and sparing her partner another cautious glance before the sandy dunes engulfed her. Off to the city.

For the second time since you’d met him, you found yourself all alone with the mangled Ghoul. Only, you weren’t strong enough to truly see him just yet…

Pity. Cause he? Well…

He was looking right through you…

🏷️’s @isabellekenway

[yonseibananamilk]

“𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒆."

synopsis 𓂃𓈒𓍼ོ living with fyodor was the same as living without him. however, the night of his return reminds you, embarrassingly so, just how close the two of you are. literally. (~4k wc)

a/n 𓇢𓆸 i think i may or may not be starting to hate my writing BUT i really stretched beyond what im used to in certain parts of this and i am quite proud of myself for that ^^

content 𓍼ོ𓂃𓈒 canon compliant, suggestive themes(especially around the end), fyodor is very cold temperature-wise, soft!fyodor(hes soft in his own way), references to my work song fic ! + connected directly to it will come back as it is a part 2 ^^

ᡣ𐭩 special special જ⁀��� this fic is in collaboration with @musamora ‘s new talk!fic ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و please try to check hers out too if you can — shes a brilliant writer and a lovely person overall <3

Books upon books knitted themselves compact inside the towering shelves that pressed into the walls of what you assumed was Fyodor’s home. He had never called it his home, in fact, you explicitly remember when he did bring you here —

“Welcome to this humble abode. Feel free to touch and grab whatever you desire. Everything here belongs to you, дорогая.”

— Ever since that blind date (gone wrong(but then right in the end)), the Russian had let you stay for as long as you liked. One night led to two, which led into you bringing over a few things for just a few more nights.

Which led to you staying with Fyodor for nearly a month now.

You shook your head at the thought. If anything, he was the visitor. The man was hardly ever home, therefore you weren’t even living together. And you were, like anyone else with experience in a leaky apartment, eager to accept a place as generous as this.

The house held two stories; the first floor with the living room, foyer, and utilities, and the second floor with the bathroom and bedroom. Not to mention there was even an accessible attic-study.

In the beginning, he had stayed the night with you on the couch while you remained upstairs. But it had been weeks since then. Your Russian companion, much to your dismayed crocodile tears, was now predominantly busy with his ‘mission’. You couldn’t argue with that.

Though, on one of the times when Fyodor did stay longer than just a few hours…

“Please? I don’t mind, I swear! Besides, we’re both adults, not some teenagers that’ll go off at the first brush of skin. You don’t have to sleep on the couch..!”

You didn’t want to admit that you had actually stained the sofa downstairs on the first day of being here — even if Fyodor knew about it already, with all his observance — and it also felt… wrong to have him sleep on the couch. Cold. In the dark. And very, very, very lonely.

With a desperate and dramatic gesture of your arms, you tried to make the bed as dreamy as possible to his cherry wine eyes. “See? So comfy!”

To prove your point even further, you jumped on yourself with a muffled noise in the comforter.

“How amusing.”

Your point was most certainly not taken.

Therefore, you began to deflate into the sheets. Even more muffled now, and perhaps even softer than before, you mumbled out — “Is ‘modesty’ really the only reason why you won’t share anything with me?”

Everything in the room stilled. As if gauging the weight behind your words. Then, faintly, a gust of a sigh fell into the golden air of your nearby nightlamp. The candle flame was tickled into a dance thanks to the Russian, twisting and spinning hypnotically.

So hypnotically that you failed to catch the shift in the bed beside your head.

Not until a chilled hand fell atop your head. Bony fingers of ice itself urged your face up and away from the fire. Your attention was rewarded with a smooth, humming smile.

“There is more, дорогая.” He admitted. “But those reasons have nothing to do with you. After all, you are the sole reason why I would like to sleep here.”

Briefly, so much so where you barely even caught it this time — a thumb brushed over your lips. Cherry wine eyes batted down at you, reflecting the flame behind your burning face. Like the sun was the center of his very being.

“Then why don’t you?”

As his thumb curled into the corner of your lips, the rest of his hand glided over your skin. Two fingers read the curves of your jawline. Its adjacent pair followed down to the side of your neck.

He could grab your entire head with ease.

Fluttering ties in your stomach unraveled and twisted again in an endless heap of knots. Why wasn’t he saying anything? What was he thinking of? Why is he getting closer?

A chilled breath brought respite to your burning cheeks. But only for a moment.

Why is he moving away?

“Be wary of the fatigue that will eat you, if you do not sleep soon, дорогая.”

Pale feet revisited the cold, yet still warmer than him, floors. Wood welcomed him with a tired creak, following the man’s every step until he reached the doorway. By then, you had turned off your back to finally face him yourself.

“But I’m not tired.” Horribly, a yawn tore through your last syllable. The heaviness of your eyelids was never apparent until now.

Another amused hum brought you back to the Russian before you, hand on the knob as he smirked down at you. Slowly, the sharp edges of his little grin faded into something softer, fuzzier.

A smile, he had gifted you.

“If you are not tired…” Your heart skipped a beat, anticipating every little thing for his next suggestion. As if crying out — “What? Yes? What is it?”

“Then remember this: there is danger in giving into one’s desires, дорогая.” Icy red eyes rove over your laden figure with an unreadable spark. He always looked at you so curiously.

“I would be wise to not fall victim to such dangers. As would you.”

The closing door halted itself instantly when you let out the smallest of huffs.

“My offer still stands…” With a dragging breath of protest, you fell underneath the blankets.

Black swirls encapsulated your mind as you managed to spin his words effortlessly; “Remember this: there is reward for passing through danger.”

…

Unknowingly shooting through the Russian’s morale — you fell asleep with the same singular weight of your own on the bed. However, the door was still ajar in the morning upon your awakening.

But that moment was weeks ago. The memory of it proven by the clear frown on your lips — twitching up and down every now and then based on whatever the book you read said.

You wouldn’t spend your time thinking about someone who wouldn’t even give you so much as a clear answer to ‘How was your day?’

A creak of wood whipped your head around in urgence. Only for nothing to be there.

Nothing but a pang of disappoint. All at the absence of a certain Russian.

Well. Maybe you would spend a bit of your time.

With a ruffled sigh you fell back against the chair, pages still in hand as the grandfather clock behind you whisked the day away. These moments of solitude had become a daily part of your life — ever since popping out of Fyodor’s floorboards like a daisy in the snow.

But they might as well have been your floorboards too.

The creak of wood glided past your ears. Followed by the light shuffle of a coat being draped over the rack nearby. Then the ghosts of footsteps slowly but surely making their way toward the living room.

“Hm?”

Much to his amusement, there you sat. Old book in hand atop the gentle rise and fall of your chest. In a peaceful slumber too.

“How adorable.” The R rolled after his deep chuckle, growing slightly in volume as he drew closer to your laden frame. “Falling asleep to folktales, are we? Hm, дорогая?”

Frostbite ghosted over your cheek. A chill fell over your fingertips — the lingering absence of your now-taken book. Burgundy eyes flitted over the title with a deep hum.

Surprisingly enough, you had managed to find one of the few English books that hid in his shelves. The vast majority were Russian(as he wasn’t the best with learning new languages).

“Orpheus and Eurydice?” His tongue read. “Now what on Earth compelled you to read such a tale..?”

Firewood slid off one another as it ate away at itself in incessant hunger. A desire for something warmer than what it already had. A rod poked it stable in no time.

“Perhaps my дорогая is more romantic than she lets on. It makes me wonder…”

The shadows around him chuckled in tandem before, again, rippling as the fireplace was muted once more.

‘What a foolish thought.’ His brain reprimanded.

Yet his heart leapt not once, but twice — as you began to slowly stir awake. With orange light painted across the dips of your babbling lips in a silent dance with dark.

“Uah… who’s there..?”

Raven locks fell to the side as he tilted towards you slowly. Akin to an animal watching something unusual. Unexplainable. Unimaginable. A thick silence filled the air as Fyodor lagged to translate your words — no thanks to the strange foreign tingling south of his head — all by the sight of you.

‘How vulnerable.’ He mused. ‘How adorable.’

Despite knowing full well what was coming out his lips — despite knowing just what it could risk for him —

“Федя is here.”

He had willingly revived something. Something that had lied dormant for dozens of hundreds of years. All for you. You and your daftly half-conscious state. He hadn’t been called such a simple name since childhood.

And since his family was alive.

Despite his already-dissipating regret, icy tips glided reverently over the crown of your head. The locks of it threaded like yarn. Each part sifted through like flour. The back of it all was cupped tightly — encouraging your limp head to face him.

“Fe… diya…?”

Oh how adorable you were. So sleepy you couldn’t even pronounce a simple nickname. A diminutive. An endearment.

Nor could you realize how special you were right now. Though, that was the norm at this point.

“Yes. Can you indulge Fedya for a moment, дорогая?” The Russian cooed with a smile both condescendingly familiar, and unrecognizably tender.

Your whined nod was enough to coax him closer. Arms atop the sides of the chair. Frosted breath wafting just shy of your pulse.

“Can you tell Fedya what you were thinking of? Hm?”

Lithe fingers haunted the cover of your little folktale with echoed taps. His cherry wine gaze hooked onto the half-lidded glaze in your eyes.

“Tell him what you were thinking of when reading such a story?”

As slurred syllables pooled from your tongue, Fyodor locked himself onto every quiver, bite, and sound. Each was greedily soaked into the prodigy’s mind — held in higher regard than any mazed tactic.

Although just as half-lidded as yours, his eyes were far more awake than they had been during his accursed mission earlier.

After all, if Fyodor knew such a sweet sight waited for him here — he would’ve destroyed everything in his path to get back as soon as possible.

Frosted breath ghosted over the angle of your jaw, waiting patiently for something more.

“I… I thought that Eurydice was very lucky to have been loved so dearly... Regardless of what happened at the end.”

Black brows rose at you. “Lucky?”

“Yes. I’m a bit envious — being loved so dearly is…” A shake of the head pauses your sleepy train of thought. With a deep breath, your head reclined further into the plush of your seat before correcting yourself.

“Being loved is a very lucky thing indeed.”

Well weren’t you the lucky one?

The gentle squeaks of the couch were thankfully muffled by your weight, settling further and further into its cotton fabric. Your warmth soaked into it well. Though, much of that warmth was the fire’s — which only seemed to be growing.

Just along the edges of your peripheral, a certain smiling Russian was also present — leaned over your shoulder closely. Close enough for the scent of black tea to flood your nostrils yet again.

“Could you imagine it?”

A chill ran over the hairs on the nape of your neck. Fyodor’s breath was cold. His lips too.

“Imagine being loved…?” Your voice was far softer than expected. “I… suppose it would be nice. Very nice, in fact. I’d like to be cared about…”

Shifting your eyes, the golden text of the book was now being circled by Fyodor’s idle fingers. Lithe enough to perfectly recreate the intricate cursive. And cold enough to make you shudder at the mere sight.

Nonetheless — the image of such hands snug around you was as warm as the shared fireplace.

“Wouldn’t everyone?” He cooed. Slender fingertips rhythmically tapped atop the book cover.

“Being loved…” Cherry wine eyes reflected the orange fire beside you. “Or wanted…”

You swallowed a lump in your throat that certainly wasn’t there before.

“Is a very human desire.”

Another swallow. Glued to the fiddling hands in your lap, your heart leaped with you upon asking;

“Do you desire it as well?”

Briefly did his eyes widen.

It was borderline impossible to catch Fyodor off-guard. But, as luck would have it, you succeeded at it like any other mundane task. You always did.

It’d be terrifying if not so attractive.

“I suppose…” Once unoccupied fingers found their way atop your shoulder. Chills ran through your arm. As well as an unwelcome spark through your entire body. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

A flicker of your shared fireplace caught your eye. Avoiding the piercing gaze of Fyodor Dostoevsky as he, much to your confusion, stared into your very essence. It was as if he was analyzing every curve and groove before completely committing it to memory.

That sly, condescending chuckle reeled you home to him. All semblance of earlier surprise had drained from his eyes. “What a curious question, дорогая. Were you picturing it in your mind?”

Blackberry strands fell against the white fabric of his shirt, flowing in tandem with the inching of his face.

“Thinking… pondering… wondering…”

Orange light danced within the seeds of his eyes.

“Imagining what it’d be like to be loved by me?”

You didn’t know whether to fuse with the couch or disappear completely.

Whatever happened to the fire danced over your already-burning cheeks — radiating against the chill of Fyodor’s face as he bordered closer and closer.

“Can you imagine it?”

Close enough to count each eyelash.

Close enough to taste the scent of black tea and iron on your tongue.

Close enough to feel the subtle heat of his cheeks.

“Imagine being loved by me?”

Your lower lip began to tremble. Sweat sprinkled from your shaky palms. That same spark shocked you from head to toe yet again.

Everything felt heavy. Heavy and warm.

And your nose itched. Itched and twitched. You couldn’t help but sniff — which only amplified the hot water in your eyes — already glittering in your lashes. The unsaid border between the two of you dwindled like a candle in the wind.

All you knew was that you were sweaty, shaky, and far too warm to be considered normal.

A snort caught itself in his throat. While perfectly timed with just how stiff you were getting, your little sniffle was not out of embarrassment. Simply an incoming sneeze that he would gladly bless you for in: 3, 2—

“Achoo!”

…

He did not want to finish that countdown.

“Woah…! I got my boogers on your face! Hah!”

“That you did.” The Russian begrudgingly muttered, closed eyes subtly twitching under the weight of your giggles and dabbing sleeve. “Bless you.”

Despite all your unceremonious, uncouth, undisciplined whatnots — the sheepish smile you flashed to him was hardly ignored. “Thank you… Did it get in your eye?”

“Fortunately not.”

“Aww. Better luck next time then.”

The caught snort from before clawed its way out of Fyodor and into a throaty, hearty, genuine laugh.

No cocky chuckles. No sadistic grins. No sly hums.

Just a normal laugh. With golden fire reflecting off the sides of his face like framing sunrays. And a usually imperceptible ombre of deep magenta in his otherwise black hair — thanks to the generous amount of light the fireplace provided a few feet away.

Sure, it was akin to the cawing of crows at the crack of dawn — Fyodor most certainly hadn’t laughed like that in what seemed like centuries. But it was touching nonetheless.

Very much so.

“It’s rude to stare, дорогая.”

It was even harder to look away when he was smiling so warmly.

“I bet Orpheus wouldn’t think Eurydice was rude — even when her boogers got in his eye.”

An unfamiliar emptiness frosted over your shoulder when the Russian leaned away. “Perhaps, дорогая. Perhaps.”

You couldn’t recall a time when he was ever so warm.

“There are no more wool blankets.” The Russian patted through the wooden cabinets with a small hum. “Дорогая, you wouldn’t happen to know where they are, would you?”

Looking over his shoulder, a cherry wine gaze poured over your freshly showered & dressed body. You learned to always stay snug for the cold that managed to occasionally sneak its nightly way past the fireplace — crackling happily a hallway down.

You hummed back, offering the man a smile warm enough to rival it. “I do.”

“And whatever happened to them?” Knowing lips cooed. The answer fell sweeter when it was from your tongue than his mind.

“I put them in the attic because they scratched at my face,” Rubbing at your arms, a wave of apology washed over you. Maybe Fyodor preferred blankets that way? Scratchy and itchy. He was a strange man after all.

Even more strange now that he was finally content with sharing a bed. You don’t think you’d ever seen a man smile for so long. However eerie though, at the end of the night, it was… endearing.

Tonight, he had changed out of the usual wear for war(or whatever he did outside of the house) — a fluffy white robe wrapped snug around Fyodor. Tied together by the loose cotton belt.

“And so you have been sleeping in a single blanket? Instead of the multiple wool ones I had given you?” The urge to hang your head was woefully strong. You opted to shuffle your feet instead.

“Yes, Fyodor. I… I can give you the blanket for the night if that’s what you want?”

Briefly, his roving eyes met yours. With a small lilt of his voice, which was another strange way of expressing amusement for him, the Russian cooed; “And leave a woman to fend for herself against the cold?”

Another spark of warmth crackled under your skin. The sensation swam through your bones in a melting frenzy that burned your face once it reached it.

“T-then we can share…?”

Cherry eyes crinkled in delight.

“Wonderful idea, дорогая.”

As your knees slowly crawled up to meet your chest, the sway of his hair encapsulated you in a garden of imagination — with cherry wine eyes to drink and straight locks that rivaled shades of the ripest blackberries. Such sweet attributes for such a cold man.

Literally. He was colder than the air itself when sitting on your bed. The man could’ve drunken up all the warmth in the room, and still ask for more.

“You’re freezing!” You whined out, curling into a shuddering ball. “Maybe you should take that blanket, you might as well take the ones in the attic too.”

A frown quipped its brows at you. Yet, despite all his shown annoyance, there lacked a general sense of danger that once lived within.

Every glare was now punctuated with a cooing riddle of warning but quickly followed by a soft smile — imperceivable to all he knew. Excusing you.

“And I assume that means you are warmer? Hm?”

“Well, duh. I’ve been soaking in the fireplace all day waiting for you.”

“Oh?”

Under the gentle fire of your candlelit bedside, a meek coral bloomed across the slim cheeks of his face. His ears were red too — how long had he been that way?

“So, you were waiting for me?”

“Yes.” An exasperated breath left you feeling flustered and confused.

“Diligently?”

“And I was very lonely the whole time.”

A sense of deja vu sprung over you like a freshly pouring fountain.

Candlelight brewed against his face. Cherry wine eyes raked over your every inch. Pale skin, now painted with pink, smoothly approached closer and closer and closer —

Until the two of you are face to face once again. Illuminated only by generous candlelight and warmed by a singular blanket, except for Fyodor leeching off your heat.

“Дорогая, if I didn’t know better, I’d assume you thought we were married. With you waiting so, what was the word...?"

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"Ah yes. Diligently for my arrival.”

Freezing fingertips grazed along the bridge of your jaw. Dancing over the skin like whistling air, then halting at the chin. Two fingers held it gently, softly, reverently even.

“Though, my words are not necessarily a complaint.”

Candlelight pooled over the side of his face, glistening in the corners of Fyodor’s eyes like water lanterns at nighttime. You could only hope he was staring at you because you looked just as beautiful.

Gulping, a strained noise tumbled from your lips —

“Oh? Whining now?” A chilling thumb ran over the shine of your bottom lip. He was closing in.

“I did not whine.” Your voice cracked. “I just—”

Words left you. Tumbling freely from your throat in an entanglement of broken syllables and whines.

And with each mishap, his grin only grew. Evident by the crinkled underside of his trailing gaze.

At long last, a semblance of defense clicked into mind — spilling out with almost-paralyzing heat inside. And yes. Your voice cracked a second time.

“You caught me off-guard!”

“I did?” He crooned. The weight of your blanket was peeled off — making way for Fyodor to finally join you. Which you would’ve been over the moon about — if your thoughts weren’t so scrambled. You only hoped his were, too.

Every restrained laugh. Every languid movement. Everything he did — you prayed that he felt even a semblance of the bashfulness you did. Maybe then, it wouldn’t feel so embarrassing.

“Oh, дорогая.” Frostbitten lips sighed. “You truly are adorable.”

Time melted into an infinity of simply you and Fyodor. With your brain dry of anything else to say, and his hopefully the same. With one last strained noise, you turned away to bury yourself into the cotton of your now-shared bed.

A candlelit silence bloomed over.

As the sheets’ soft heaviness cradled back over you, Fyodor included now, the man slid himself behind your burning face — peacefully watching the uncharacteristic heat fizz out of your little head.

Blackberry locks stretched over the expanse of the pillow like grape vines across a fence.

Amid all your muffled sounds, the cotton had begun to seep a sense of sleep into your skin, added on by Fyodor’s granted silence. With a sniffle, you reluctantly let go of his blundering words — slowly but surely relaxing into the candlelight bed. But not without an evident pout.

A haze of warmth enwrapped you. Cozy.

The edges of consciousness were held by none other than a familiar pair of cold hands. Which slithered their way around your waist — pulled you snugly against their owner’s body — allowing him to soak in the feast of your body heat.

Oddly enough, as the Russian slid himself closer, not an inch of his frigid temperature leaked into yours. Quite the opposite.

Your slumbering body thawed away at his cold one.

Save for one place that did not need any more warming. Like his cheeks, for example. Or elsewhere.

taglist ᯓᡣ𐭩 @aureatchi @soleelia + people that also wanted to be added but please know time is my greatest enemy

translations! (these are rough translations, and if there are any inaccuracies please let me know)

дорогая - ‘darling’ i just cant envision fedya saying ‘baby’. darling is the only accurate one.

thank you so much to @musamora for betareading again !!! she is quite literally the sweetest writer i know and this fic couldnt be possible without her ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡

also thanks to @/saradika-graphics for all the wonderful dividers! the images for the banner were either found on pinterest or edited by yours truly <3 thank you for reading !

© yonseibananamilk 2024 - please refrain from copying, plagiarizing and/or reposting my works on other platforms. reblogs, notes, and comments are very appreciated!

[st-rayy]

A night like no other (spent with you) - A KaveTham Smut One-Shot

I WROTE THIS FOR MY BBG @michiruzz ILYSM /p Here's your smut, sir. Enjoy it. No proof-read by another person, we die like fyodor.

tw: NSFW/18+, described sexual intercourse

rough word count: 3484

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A night like no other (spent with you)

In the evening hours of a stressful day the door of the home that belonged to a certain Acting Grand Sage creaked open. Groaning Kaveh entered the house. Today was one of the few days he actually had his keys and didn’t forget them here.

The blonde was done for the day. Not only did almost everything fall apart, quite literally, no, the guy he lived with left the whole house a mess. Kaveh was not in the mood to clean the house today, not now, not this evening.

The architect might be the housewife here, seeing as he does clean and cook for himself, totally not for Al-Haitham, or because the grey haired man asked him to. Everything Kaveh did was totally done for his own personal needs.

Who was he kidding?

Silence filled the room. It was a nice contrast to the loud noise at work, at least for Kaveh. He slumped down on the already messy couch. This was the only seat available right now. How could one even own this many books… He didn’t want to move, he wished he could just fall asleep right here and now.

And honestly he was about to do that.

If it weren’t for Al-Haitham coming into the room, Kaveh would’ve slept peacefully on the couch. If it weren’t for his damned Junior to nudge Kaveh in annoyance, Kaveh would’ve been able to relax. If it weren’t for Al-Haitham suddenly yelling his name, Kaveh would’ve enjoyed this evening.

The blonde raised his head with squinted eyes, clearly unhappy about the way Al-Haitham spoke with him.

“Excuse me?!”

“Excuse you? Have you seen how dirty everything looks here?”

Kaveh’s eye twitched. He was NOT having this right now.

“Yeah? So?! Clean it yourself!”

Maybe he shouldn’t have yelled. Al-Haitham’s face morphed into something between surprise and anger.

“Don’t yell at me. I told you that you could stay here rent free this month if you help me keep this place cleaned.” The Acting Grand Sage crossed his arms above his oh-so-hot looking chest. Kaveh, get your head out of the clouds.

Shaking his head Kaveh frowned at Al-Haitham. That was their deal. Yet, that didn’t mean that Kaveh would be Al-Haitham’s maid.

“Yuh. I said ‘HELP’ not that I’d take responsibility of keeping this place cleaned all the time.”

“Get up.”

“No.”

Tension started to grow between them. They just glared at each other, something they did regularly when they argued. Whoever looked away first lost.

This time Al-Haitham dropped it first, shaking his head. “Fine, be my guest.” He snarled and Kaveh felt triumphant that he won.

However, suddenly the blonde felt a weight on top of him. He groaned in pain and looked over his shoulder to see what’s the cause.

Seeing Al-Haitham casually taking a seat on top of Kaveh was not what he expected.

“The fuck, Haitham?! Get off!”

“I gave you a chance to move but you didn’t listen. Stop moving around.”

Oh, how it angered him that Al-Haitham was taking this so casually. And it bothered Kaveh even more that he started to not mind the gray haired man’s weight on top of him.

Kaveh just sighed. He didn’t protest any further. What’s the point arguing with someone as stubborn as Al-Haitham.

Now that he thought about it, Al-Haitham wasn’t as heavy as he looked. Sure he had these gorgeous looking muscles… a defined chest… the abs…. those delicious looking thighs.

Kaveh had to stop himself before he started drooling.

The heat rushed to Kaveh’s face. He was totally NOT thinking about Al-Haitham in such a dirty way?

Right…?

The blonde felt his mouth run dry. Fuck, now he felt the heat rush through his whole body. Damn himself, damn hormones and damn his body for reacting to his damned thoughts.

“What’s wrong, Kaveh?” Al-Haitham spoke up. He must’ve sensed how tense Kaveh suddenly was, maybe the flushed face or the way he avoided eye contact gave it away.

“Are you feeling sick?”

A hand reached out for Kaveh’s head and he quickly pulled away.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Stop lying.”

The architect bit his tongue. Of course the great Al-Haitham would notice. He always noticed everything!

Quite literally everything.

As Al-Haitham had gone quiet again, Kaveh felt the need to look up to see why he did. He would probably never forget that sight of a flustered Al-Haitham staring down at him. The blonde raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“You’re horny.”

If the blonde wasn’t blushing already, he definitely was now. He eyes followed Al-Haitham’s, who was staring almost amazed at Kaveh’s crotch area.

“THE FUCK ARE YOU STARING AT?!” Al-Haitham snapped out from his intense stare and looked up at Kaveh with wide eyes and a flushed red face. God, Kaveh could not bare staring at that expression. It fueld him more and he saw no other way out than pushing the younger man off himself.

“Wait- Kaveh-“

“Leave me alone! Fuck you! I hate you, Haitham! Go fuck yourself!”

He stormed off to his room, heart thumping in his chest. That was weird. He was weird. No, he wasn’t weird, right? Al-Haitham was the weird one, he made it weird! Right…?

Wrong.

Kaveh was scared. Maybe Al-Haitham is going to kick him out now. Maybe that was for the best. All he expected now was Al-Haitham to storm in here and tell him to leave.

But he never did.

Instead there was a soft knock at the door.

“Kaveh, can we talk?” The muffled voice of Al-Haitham could be heard behind the door and the older man felt conflicted.

Reluctantly, Kaveh got off the floor and opened the door, enough that he can could see Al-Haitham’s still flushed face.

“What…?”

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

Okay, maybe the blonde was a bit stubborn. He just didn’t want to risk anything as of now.

“okay…. Well, Kaveh, I’m sorry.”

Oh? That was not what Kaveh expected and it showed on his face. “I’m sorry for yelling at you and I’m- uhm-“ The Acting Grand Sage struggled with his words “I’m…. Sorry for staring….?” It sounded more like a question than a statement.

“You are sorry or you think you’re sorry?” Kaveh snarled “if you don’t mean it don’t say it.”

Rolling his eyes Al-Haitham cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, yeah.” He muttered.

There was an awkward silence between them. After, another moment passed before Kaveh reluctantly opened the door completely. Al-Haitham was still there and Kaveh didn’t know why.

“uh.. yuh, you’re… you’re forgiven…”

Maybe Al-Haitham was waiting for that, but he only nodded his head in return.

Even after this, both of their cheeks were still flushed, everything was still weird and awkward and Kaveh just wanted to disappear right now.

“Uhm… well, good ni-“ The architect made and attempt to close the door, but Al-Haitham stopped him. “No, wait. I…”

“I want to talk about… that, is that okay?”

Kaveh had never seen such a sincere and pleading look on Al-Haitham’s face and he couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

They settled down on Kaveh’s bed, awkwardly and stiffly. They’ve lived together for such a long time already, seen each other shirtless countless of times yet this was such an embarrassing thing. And Kaveh would be lying if he said he didn’t find this sweet, that Al-Haitham cared so much.

“Kaveh.”

The blonde tensed for that tone the younger man spoke in. It send a shiver down his spine. And he cursed himself for finding that hot.

“Was… I the cause of it?” The gray haired man was hesitant in his words, choosing them carefully. Kaveh looked away but he nodded his head. What’s the point in lying now?

“Really?”

The shift in tone suprised Kaveh. Al-Haitham… almost sounded relieved, he sounded happy.

Wait what?

Kaveh turned his head, eyes widening when he saw that small smile on Al-Haitham’s face. What was going on?

Did he resist when Al-Haitham leaned in? No, he didn’t. Did he reject the thought of having Al-Haitham on top of him right now? No, he didn’t. Did Kaveh enjoy the feeling of soft lips pressing against his own in a tender way? Yes, he did.

That kiss was marvelous. If Kaveh wasn’t the one to experience it, he would’ve never believed Al-Haitham to be this bold and good at kissing. Way too good at kissing.

They melted both into that kiss, hands tangling in each other’s hair. Kaveh almost liked the way Al-Haitham pulled on his hair, almost. The blonde was more on the gentle side, caressing the scribe’s back.

Only did they break apart when Kaveh ran low on oxygen. Everything about this moment, everything about this kiss, was fucking hot and loving at the same time. With Al-Haitham of all people.

“Fuck, that felt good.” Al-Haitham mumbled breathlessly. Kaveh was stunned to hear the Al-Haitham, mister perfect, the most calm and collected man he probably knew, use words like ‘fuck’. Nor did he ever think he’d hear Al-Haitham’s pant to be this arousing.

Not that he minded.

The break didn’t last long before the gray haired man crashed his lips back onto the blondes, hungry for more. It was almost cute how Al-Haitham reacted. Kaveh had been with men before, never lasted long. Most of them were just fun nights.

This was… different. Kaveh wished, no, he dreamed of this. Al-Haitham was always on his mind. No matter how many men he slept with, Kaveh always imagined it was Al-Haitham pinning him down and fucking him senseless.

Once they parted again, the Acting Grand Sage oh-so-lovingly stroked Kaveh’s cheek. “You’re really pretty…” Al-Haitham whispered “so so pretty…”

Kaveh chuckled. This side of Al-Haitham was new, new and loving. And honestly, Kaveh’s heart fluttered when Al-Haitham called him pretty.

A few heated kisses later, the blonde felt a hand run down his chest and stopping on his hips, gripping onto them tightly. Hazily, fluttering his blonde eyelashes, Kaveh looked up. “What’re you going to do to me, hm?”

Al-Haitham stilled for a moment, pressing his thumb into Kaveh’s hip joint. Kaveh did not jump, thank you very much.

“I’m going to…” the scribe trailed off, a small smile tugging on his lips “I’m going to take my sweet time loving you.”

Kaveh’s face heated up. His heart jumped, it beat so strongly Kaveh was sure it might just burst out of his chest. The shiver he felt down his spine was nothing compared to the sweet little kisses Al-Haitham sputtered all over his neck.

God, he felt like he was dying.

Dying for more. The blonde was greedy. Too long had he not let show that he, in fact, loved his annoying roommate.

Wet kisses trailed down Kaveh’s neck, to his collarbone, as far as Al-Haitham could reach for now. A whine needily left Kaveh’s lips when Al-Haitham pulled back again to look at the architect.

Kaveh was so pretty, a gorgeous face, fierce red eyes and such a slim body. The grey haired man bit his lips. The warmth in his chest almost made it hard to breath, or maybe Kaveh simply was this breathtaking. And the whine, god, something in Al-Haitham’s pants twitched in reaction.

There was no backing out for the scribe now.

All this time he was longing for Kaveh, he would never admit that though. His heart ached whenever he saw those ugly bags under Kaveh’s eyes, whenever he knew Kaveh wouldn’t return home because he was out at some guy’s place that managed to woo the blonde.

Al-Haitham was almost convinced that nobody could understand or love Kaveh as much as he could. He knew Kaveh, probably more than one would think, all his little antics, just everything.

And finding out what the blonde likes, finding out what makes Kaveh moan out in pleasure was a thrilling thought to the scribe.

They clumsily fiddled with their clothes, trying to get out of them as quick as possible. Al-Haitham returned to his position above Kaveh, still treating the older man as if he was a fragile flower.

Calling Kaveh pretty was an understatement, he was gorgeous! One of the most beautiful things Al-Haitham ever saw in his life. The barely noticable freckles on Kaveh’s shoulders, the pale skin on his stomach, those plump lips and his perfect looking thighs. He really was a piece of art.

“Are you sure you want this?” Kaveh suddenly spoke up and reached for Al-Haitham’s cheeks to hold. The grey haired man blushed, this form of affection, touching, it was all kind of new.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

A sigh of relief left Kaveh’s lips before he smiled giddily. “That makes me really happy…”

Seeing the smile on Kaveh’s lips brought one onto Al-Haitham’s as well. He would love Kaveh the way nobody ever had.

The small kisses started on Kaveh’s neck again, going down slowly. Al-Haitham left no bruises, no hickey, even if Kaveh asked him to he could never.

With every little kiss, the heat in Kaveh’s body spread further. His groin throbbed so badly and he was sure of it, Al-Haitham’s slow pace was going to ruin him.

Kiss after kiss was planted on the blonde’s chest and down his stomach. The architect was already leaking even though the scribe hasn’t even touched his dick yet.

“My, aren’t you excited.” Al-Haitham teased much to Kaveh’s embarassment.

“Of course I am… with how well you’re treating me- Ah~”

The blonde moaned and winked in a teasing manner, causing Al-Haitham’s cheeks to flush bright red.

Warm and wet kisses trailed down Kaveh’s thighs before Al-Haitham stopped. He sat there, hesitantly, unsure what to do now. What was his plan even? He couldn’t remember. At that, the blonde smiled to himself, taking ahold of Al-Haitham’s face to guide him back up.

“Your inexperience is making you look adorable.” Kaveh grinned and took Al-Haitham’s hand “Shall I guide you? You don’t need to worry, I’ll tell you if I like it or not, okay?”

The scribe seemed conflicted at first but then he nodded slowly, letting Kaveh take his hand and guide it over the blonde’s body. Kaveh’s skin was so soft, something Al-Haitham always wished to touch in this way.

“And if you don’t like something you tell me right away, understood? No bearing in pain or discomfort, if you want to stop we stop.” The blonde squished the scribe’s cheeks lovingly and it warmed Al-Haitham’s heart that Kaveh was this caring.

“Understood.” He whispered and kissed Kaveh’s lips again. That was the only thing he knew how to do. Sex was never something Al-Haitham engaged and never wanted. Well, at least not with someone random.

Eventually Al-Haitham’s hand found Kaveh’s hips again. The smaller man adjusted his position and wrapped his arms around Al-Haitham’s neck to pull him down with him.

“I want you to open my drawer and take out that little pink glass container, please?” The blonde asked and Al-Haitham obeyed. He didn’t know what was inside nor did he ask. Kaveh spoke up again “Nari made that for me… it was a joke gift but… well now it’s actually getting to be used.”

The scribe totally didn’t blush or yelp when Kaveh moved Al-Haitham’s hand to the architect’s butt. His heart leaped and Al-Haitham watched Kaveh put some of that cold cream-like substance on his fingers.

“Watch and learn.” Kaveh purred teasingly.

With a deep breath, Al-Haitham watched Kaveh carefully, eyes fixated on the finger that the blonde shoved inside himself. He cringed, that looked painful but for some reason the architect looked and sounded to be in bliss.

The curiosity and thirst for knowledge couldn’t be stopped, so the scribe reached for Kaveh’s hand to replace it with his own. The blonde gave a reassuring and encouraging smile that had Al-Haitham’s chest warm up once more.

A moan followed, then another. The grey haired man wasn’t sure if he’s doing it right but taking in Kaveh’s sounds and pretty face, he must’ve been.

Shaky breaths left Kaveh’s lips. “Another one.”

Who was Al-Haitham to disobey? He did as he was told, carefully adding another finger. While he could never imagine how that could possibly feel good, he was happy to make Kaveh feel like that.

Too concentrated on the blondes needs, Al-Haitham hadn’t even noticed his throbbing dick, desperate for friction.

“Ohhh~ Haitham~ Please, please shove it in alreadyyy~”

That was fucking hot.

No matter how much he wanted to act annoyed Al-Haitham couldn’t help himself but blush and gasp in reaction to Kaveh’s moans.

“Okay… okay.” It took Al-Haitham a while to actually do it, but he positioned himself anyway. “Are you… sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Nonsense. You won’t hurt me.”

“But I-“

The kiss might’ve caught him off guard, but it helped him trust in Kaveh’s words.

Though, once again he found himself unsure of how to actually do it. He could sense the blonde watching him, he could practically hear the smile in Kaveh’s breathy moans.

“Haaaitham~” the architect giggled. “Here.”

The scribe jumped from the feeling of a hand on his ass, slowly and gently guiding his hips forward.

“You just push it in, okay? Slowly and carefully. If you feel like it wouldn’t fit or as if you shouldn’t push then don’t.”

Okay, yeah, Al-Haitham could do that. When even was the last time that he was this nervous anyway? This was Kaveh after all. With a deep breath, Al-Haitham slowly inserted himself, gaining a loud, satisfied moan from the man underneath him.

“Ohhh~ god~ you’re fucking big~”

Al-Haitham’s eyes narrowed and he growled, partially playfully and partially because Kaveh did not need to be loud like that.

“Shut.” Al-Haitham sneered to which the architect laughed. The playful kisses on his neck and the growling that followed only made Kaveh laugh more.

Were they just about to have sex? Well, yes. Did that stop them from being silly? Not at all.

Al-Haitham pushed in fully. Both of them panted, taking breaths to calm down. The grey haired man waited, specifically, for Kaveh to say something. The blonde gently gripped Al-Haitham’s shoulders and sighed breathlessly. “You may move…”

It was an awfully slow pace that Al-Haitham moved with. He pulled back, slowly and carefully, and pushed back in just as slow. Kaveh whined, that was both hot and annoying at the same time. His moans were long and soft, the grip he had on Al-Haitham’s shoulders slowly tightened.

“Faster… Please, Haitham, move faster~”

But the pleads fell on deaf ears. The slow pace continued and as much as the blonde hated it, he got riled up more and more from that.

“Haaaithaaam~” a needy moan rumbled through his throat “Pleaaaase~”

Maybe, just maybe, Al-Haitham enjoyed these needy and pleading moans. He smirked and finally, after minutes of building up, he finally started to move faster.

Kaveh’s eyes closed and he arched his back when Al-Haitham’s tip collided with his prostate. He grit his teeth, growling and moaning in pleasure.

“Oh… oh~ yes~ mmm~” Those sweet noises were music to Al-Haitham’s ear, while he only panted a bit and occasionally gasped or groaned out in pleasure himself.

Sounds of skin slapping against skin and moaning slowly filled the room. Kaveh had to stop himself from screaming out in ecstasy because he was well aware that anybody passing by outside might hear it.

The bed creaked softly, and Al-Haitham felt himself close to his peak.

“Kaveh…. Ka-veh~ fuck… I think I’ll come.” Al-Haitham groaned softly. The blonde moaned in response and nodded his head. “a little more, baby….!~” the blond whined.

The Acting Grand Sage could barely keep himself together. His insides felt tense, pressure too much to handle. The blonde felt much the same, so much that his nails painfully digged into Al-Haitham’s shoulders.

A few moments later Al-Haitham couldn’t hold it anymore. He pulled out, releasing his load onto Kaveh and partially himself. The blonde followed right after, whining because he had actually prefered Al-Haitham to fill him up.

“Mmm~ Haithaaam~” The blonde pouted and pleaded “why did you pull out? You meanie…”

Even after sex Kaveh was the same as always, which made Al-Haitham smile in amusement. The taller man let himself fall on top of his roommate, tired sigh leaving him.

“Oi! You’re heavy!”

“Hm? Too bad I don’t care.”

“Augh?! You little shit!”

And again, they were laughing, Kaveh ruffling the scribe’s hair in a playful manner.

Once they settled down Al-Haitham hummed softly. His hand mindlessly caressed Kaveh’s  messy hair while he let the blonde cuddle against his chest.

“I love you.”

A ghost of a kiss pressed against the architect’s forehead. Kaveh smiled tiredly, his eye fluttering slightly. His chest felt warm, his stomach felt tingly, butterflies flying around in it. Taking  a deep breath of Al-Haitham’s scent, he opened his mouth.

“I love you too.”

[andreafmn]

In the Heat of the Moment | Part 6

Word Count: 9.7K

Pairing: Jake Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader, Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Story Description: Every month female Omatikayans go through their heat whilst men go through their rut. It’s a time for mates to engage in the most animalistic desires. But when one of the two is gone, it can be a rather painstaking endeavor. With Neteyam gone on a hunting trip, (Y/N) has to go through her heat alone for the first time. Or does she?

Warnings: SMUT (+18, minors DNI), infidelity, p in v sex, face riding, oral (fem and male receiving), very vanilla sex, feels [also: cringe use of the words -> make love to me; sorry but they fit the story 😬]

A/N: read at the end of the story for this last part😬😬 I meant to post this a lot earlier than this but I overexerted myself and had a flare-up that took up a lot of my day, but it's here, it's long, and it might break and mend your heart. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Dedicated to every single person that read, liked, or reblogged this story! It was such a joy to write and I will miss it💖

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In the Heat of the Moment | Part 6

That split second felt too short as the glistening rays of the sun shone on Jake’s eyes. He stirred awake, careful of the body that was cuddled on his. She was still asleep and he did not dare to wake her. Not just yet. 

Her eyelids fluttered as her mind played dreams in her head. She looked peaceful, magnificent, divine. And most importantly, she was still in his arms. (Y/N) belonged to no other man but him. Under the sunlight and the watchful eye of the Tree of Souls, she was his. 

He traced her body with his fingers, barely touching her skin, afraid to wake her. Jake followed the expanse of her skin. From her delicate shoulders to the side of her chest, to the dip of her waist, to the mountain of her hip. Every part of her that he had claimed for himself, but could never truly be his. 

Jake had known from the moment he entered (Y/N)’s nest that night that he could never go back. That she would be the reason for his undoing, dismantling everything he has carefully built with a simple touch. There was no more a beginning or end of who he was with her, he now simply was. He belonged to her, never the other way around. 

Deep down, he knew it would never be that way. Belonging to someone meant giving your entire being to someone, even if they wouldn’t give you theirs. And that’s what he’d done with (Y/N), he’d given everything he was to someone that already belonged to another — he thought he had done the same many years before. 

For that moment, though, he could trick himself into believing she has chosen him. As he stared at her sleeping figure in his arms, he allowed himself to believe that from that night forward they belonged to each other. Maybe then what he was feeling would not be wrong. Even if he hadn’t been her sign, she was his. 

She stirred beside him as sleep left her body. She turned to face him, staring at him through hooded eyes, and she smiled. A smile so bright he felt it warm his body, more than the sun itself. 

“You look as radiant as ever, sevin,” he smiled, caressing and cradling his cheek with his hand. “How did you sleep?” 

“Too comfortably,” she chuckled. “It’s the last day.”

The lingering timer that had been following them since the first day showed, in glowing red numbers, that they had less than twenty-four hours until their world would reset. Every decision they had made would be buried, deeper than six feet under ground. It would be hidden in the deepest, darkest parts of their souls and they would carry it with them for the rest of their lives. 

“You’re right,” he sighed. “But we still have tonight, and I’m gonna make sure it’s a night you’ll never forget, baby girl.” 

“But what happens after, Jake?” (Y/N) looked at him with pleading eyes. “What will happen to us — this — after tonight?”

“We’ll pretend it never happened. We will carry this with us for the rest of our lives,” he said, sadness slipping through his voice. “But we can look back to these moments with fondness and excitement. We will dream about it, we will daydream and pretend. We will be the only ones to know. It will be the souvenir of our time.” 

“Do you think that is possible?” Her yellow eyes stared into his, tears pooling at the corners as her lower lip quivered. “To live with what we’ve done as if we didn’t… do what we did. Could you live with that?” 

“I could,” he responded quickly, no qualms in his voice. “Because I don’t regret a single thing that has happened between you and me, and I never will. I can carry this because I will now and forever yearn for you.” 

“Jake…” (Y/N) sat up, her hands landing comfortingly on his knee as he followed her suit. 

“I probably know what you will say,” he smiled sadly. “But I don’t want to hear it until it’s absolutely necessary. Let me live in this fantasy where you do choose me and we run away together because nothing else matters. Let me just pretend for this last night that it’s me.” 

(Y/N) remained quiet for a moment. It was the first time she was the one wiping away tears from the man’s face. And she finally understood why he didn’t feel burdened by their decisions. Jake did not believe this to be a mistake.

“I couldn’t possibly do that to you, Jake,” she spoke softly, her hand now the one cradling his cheek. “I can’t let you trick yourself into thinking that. It’ll hurt too much in the end. Maybe, last night should be the last time. If you’re feeling this way…”

“No, please,” he interrupted her. “One more night. That’s what we said. The last time and we’ll forget all about each other. Everything will go back to normal.”

“Could you do that? Forget all of this ever happened? Forget the way you feel… a-about me?” 

“Don’t ask me questions you don’t want the answers to.” But her eyes pleaded for an answer. So, he lied. “Yes,” he responded sternly. “I can forget everything that happened.”

“Then I’ll see you tonight,” she breathed in relief before kissing him softly. “Right now, I must meet with Mo’at, and you must prepare for tomorrow’s arrival.”

“Can’t we just stay here for a couple more minutes?”

“You know we can’t,” she chuckled. “Now, up you go. We have work to do today. I know you can hold off until tonight.”

After they parted ways, (Y/N) felt herself implode. Her head was hazy and her stomach was in knots. She felt worry and concern dizzy her mind. She had never wanted for things to get so complicated, emotions to get entwined with the physicality of the moment. 

By the grace of Eywa, her body walked the path to Mo’at’s tent. Her vision was blurred and her breathing was heavy. Jake’s confession had thrown her for a spin. With so few words, he had been able to crumble everything she believed. 

She had gone to sleep trusting that he would give her the perfect solution to their problem. That she could end this journey unscathed and could go on with her life as if nothing had occurred. But he didn’t see it as one. Jake had seen this as an opportunity, and he’d continued to do so. 

The last thing she wanted to do was hurt anyone. At first, she worried only about Neteyam and how he would react if he found out. But she never thought she had to worry about Jake as well. That he would be one of the people to be upset when this was finished. She thought their minds were aligned, but they couldn’t be further from each other. 

“My child, are you alright?” Mo’at called the girl’s attention as she walked through the flaps of the entrance. 

(Y/N) heard her voice far away, even though they were standing almost face-to-face. She tried to speak, but all the sounds got stuck in her throat. Her hands reached out to the woman, needing something —anything— to stabilize her. 

Then everything went black. 

She felt calm, at peace. Surrounded by nothing but darkness and no sense of impending doom. (Y/N) wanted to stay there. It was quiet and comfortable. And she didn’t have to face all the problems she had created for herself. Maybe if she tried hard enough, that’s where she could stay until everything magically resolved itself. 

But a sour smell filled her nose and triggered her head to start waking.

(Y/N) fought it at first. She truly wanted to stay asleep. To forget the reality that she had made for herself. Yet, there was no way to keep running – she couldn’t. Life had a way to catch up whether she wanted it or not. Sooner or later, she would have to confess. At least to Neteyam. 

Her eyes struggled to adjust to the light that flooded her. The warmth of the day was suddenly too overwhelming to her body. She felt suffocated and choked, her breathing staggered and haphazard. It almost felt like bile was threatening to escape her throat. 

“Let it out, my child,” Mo’at cooed. She rubbed the girl’s back comfortingly as (Y/N) emptied the little contents of her stomach into a bowl. “Good, good. Let it all out.” 

(Y/N) coughed as the acidic liquid passed through her. It sloshed in the receptacle beside her until she let out the last drop. She fell back onto the mat once she finished, slowly starting to feel better. She wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on her forehead. 

“Drink this,” the healer instructed. “It’ll help ease your stomach.”  

“Thank you,” the girl smiled in relief after she downed the liquid that was handed to her. “I have no idea what came over me. I was feeling odd yesterday but nothing to warrant this reaction. I don’t understand.” 

“You were dehydrated, my child. Exhaustion and dehydration.” As the woman spoke, a smile crept onto her face. A smile that the girl mistook for pity. “Well, there is another reason as well.”  

“What is it? Is everything okay?” Worry took over her mind. Every worst-case scenario ran through her head. Maybe this was Eywa’s answer to her prayers. A well-deserved punishment. “Is something wrong?” 

“On the contrary, (Y/N),” the woman beamed. She took the girl’s hands in hers as she braced for the information she was going to share. “These are news to celebrate.” 

“Oh, then, what is it?”

“You are with child, (Y/N),” Mo’at said excitedly. “You are pregnant with the new heir of the Omatikaya clan. Congratulations, sweetheart.” 

A breath hitched in (Y/N)’s throat as the word escaped the healer’s mouth. It took some time for her to process what Mo’at had said. It was almost unbelievable… had it not been for the past few days. If she hadn’t already emptied her stomach seconds before, she was sure she would be doing so at that moment. 

Her hands flew unconsciously to her stomach. Inside, there was a life growing. A life that four days before had no chance of existing. She felt conflicted. Without Jake, there wouldn’t have been cells multiplying inside her. Regardless, it was happening. Her firstborn. 

“There’s a baby growing in here?” (Y/N) worded it as a question, but she knew it was a fact. “I’m going to be a mom.”  

“You are,” Mo’at simpered. “You and Neteyam will be magnificent parents. This child will be brought into a home of love and warmth. They will be strong and talented, just like their parents. This is a blessing from Eywa, my child. She had answered our prayers.” 

“Could you keep this a secret until Neteyam comes back?” the girl blurted. Tears were stinging the back of her eyes, threatening to spill as she felt herself coming loose by the seams. “I want him to hear the news from me. Once he knows, we will announce it to the village.”

“That is completely understandable. A child is a gift to new couples. I understand wanting to relish in this new life by yourselves,” she said. “Consider my lips closed.” 

“Thank you, Mo’at.”

“Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off,” the woman continued. “You need the rest.” 

“That would be splendid,” the girl forced a smile. “I will say I am still a bit tired.”

“Of course, my child.” Mo’at helped her up and walked her to the entrance, leaving in her hands a  net filled with utumauti and a vial of water. “Congratulations again, (Y/N). May Eywa continue blessing you.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t leave the tent faster. As soon as the woman disappeared back into the healing tent, the girl took off running. Her mind was going a million miles an hour, faster than any day before. She was unraveling as everything in her world came tumbling down. 

She knew the chances of this happening were high, but she never imagined it would happen. Not this quickly. Neteyam and her had been trying for a whole year, and by the grace of Eywa, his father had done the impossible in a couple of days.

“Maybe it’s not in our journey to have children,” (Y/N) had told Neteyam one night, a week before he left. “Maybe it’s not Eywa’s will for us.” 

He had ran his hands through her hair, brushing it comfortingly as she rested her head on his chest. “Maybe,” he echoed, kissing the top of her head. “Doesn’t mean we can’t keep trying.” 

“Neteyam,” she chuckled. 

“There’s the laugh I was looking for,” he responded. “It’s not like the family name ends with us. We can leave the creation of heirs to Lo’ak. It’s about time he finds himself a mate.”

“I don’t think I could even imagine your brother settling down. He’s only a year younger than us but he’s so childlike.”

“It doesn’t matter, though,” he boasted. “I’ve got the best woman already.”

Worry swirled and hooked its claws into her soul. The very fiber of the morals and rules she had been brought up on had been dismantled by the pleasurable feeling of fulfilled carnal desires. The overwhelming sensation of feeling her body be taken apart and put back together through kisses and touches were far greater than reason. And it was hard to let go of it. 

Everything came into hyperfocus as she sped through the village in search of one man. 

Leaves crunched under her feet, loudly cracking under her quick steps yelling who she searched for. The wind whistled in her ears, whispering all of her mistakes and wrongdoings. She tried to quiet the air, afraid that everyone would know what had happened. But how does one quiet nature? 

Her eyes blurred over as they focused only on one face, everyone around her merely a blue body in her way. Her voice was asking for his name, but her ears could not hear it. Her hands reached for others, but she couldn’t feel them. She knew her body was moving, that her legs were transporting her, but the normal burn that accompanied the movement never came. 

She thought maybe that’s how it felt to be a dream walker. Things happened to your body but it didn’t entirely feel like it was real. She felt as though someone else was in control of her body as her mind watched it all unfold. 

Tears pricked at her eyes and (Y/N) had no idea when she had started to cry. But now, she was more than aware of the streams that fell down her cheeks, falling to the ground as she moved. It made her lungs ache as strangled sobs escaped her at the same time she tried to breathe. The rash influx of every emotion drowned her quickly, taking with them whatever thread was holding her to sanity. 

Suddenly, she crashed into a body and strong arms steadied her. Yet, her eyes could not focus on the figure that held her. All she could do was hold on as her eyes continued their downpour and her lungs pleaded for more air. 

“(Y/N),” they called. The voice felt familiar but so far she could not decipher who it was.” (Y/N). What’s wrong, baby girl? Talk to me.” 

She took a whizzing breath in, the air eating at her bronchioles. Still, she had found him. Somehow in her blinding haze, she had found the only person she could confess all her sins to. The only man that knew the darkest thing she had done because he had been right alongside her to do them. 

In her silence, or rather her futile attempt at speaking, he pulled her from the center. There were too many people and he was sure he knew what was weighing heavy on her heart. It had her panicking once more, trying to cogitate the immorality of their choices. 

He felt bad that she was carrying the whole burden of their wrongdoings on her shoulders whilst he was simply glad he had been able to have the moments they shared. Jake wished he could take all the worry from her brain and carry it himself, untether her from any and all bad sentiments that had planted themselves in her because of him. Because she deserved only happiness and joy to course through her veins. 

“Alright, sweetheart,” he spoke softly. “Breathe with me. Okay? I need you to breathe, beautiful.” 

He placed a comforting hand on her cheek, forcing her eyes to focus on him. He emulated the breathing pattern he wanted her to follow, breathing deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth. He established an easy rhythm allowing her to follow in tandem. 

Their chests rose and fell at the same pace soon enough. The girl settled as she stared into the yellow irises of her father-in-law – now, the biological father of the baby that would grow inside her. She envied his calmness. How he could remain collected as she felt their world was crumbling down around them? 

Her fingers dug into his arm softly, needing the reminder that she was there. That she was in control of her body again. She needed tangible evidence that Jake was standing in front of her and she could breathe again. She could breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe. 

“What is it, baby girl? Huh?” Jake cooed at her. His thumbs caressed her face and memorized the way her eyes fluttered as she melted into his touch. “What’s wrong?” 

“I-I-I,” she stammered. “I just… Mo’at… and now…”

The words were stuck in her throat, clawing at the walls, unwilling to spill out. She could feel as they tried to climb down and settle in the deepest parts of her soul. To join the other secrets that had made their home inside her. 

“Just breathe, (Y/N). Tell me what’s wrong.” 

Unexpectedly, a commotion broke out in the village center. The sounds were unmistakable. Ululations and screams of excitement rang out as the sounds of the flap of various ikrans’ wings filtered through the air. 

The hunting party. They were home early. 

Panic flashed in her eyes as every plan they had crashed into the ground. They were supposed to have one more night, less than twenty-four hours to give themselves closure. They had allowed themselves one more night to live in their fantasy and shut the book for good. 

“It’s okay,” Jake smiled comfortingly as he cleaned her face of any tears. “Everything’s going to be okay.” 

He kissed her forehead before they went separate ways, emerging nto the center by themselves, ready to put on the biggest performance of their lives. 

A group of ten ikrans descended from the sky and landed gracefully on the ground as the tribe cheered for the group of hunters that had come back home. The younger Omatikayas were the first to dismount, their excitement spilling out of them as they searched for their families. Their voices muddled as they recounted stories from the trip, the thrill of their first hunting expedition. 

Suddenly, two more banshees thudded against the hard ground. The duo was unmistakable and, easily, the biggest animals of the group. Between their claws, they carried a net that had landed before them. A net that held a massive srakat, the prized kill of the hunt party. 

Neytiri was the first one off her ikran, flashing the tribe a massive grin as her eyes searched for her family. She nodded toward (Y/N) as her eyes met hers, and the girl swallowed as she returned a smile. But once her gaze fell on her husband’s, her smile grew. The woman raced toward Jake, wrapping her arms tightly around her neck. She pulled him toward her tightly, basking in the warmth of her mate, the man she had missed deeply the time she was away. Unaware of how little he had missed her. 

She was followed by her first son. Neteyam pushed himself off his banshee and his eyes quickly found the eyes of his love. He hurried toward her, ignoring the people that tried to congratulate him on his hunt. He had one thing, and only one thing, on his mind. And it was her, it was always her. 

“(Y/N),” he breathed as he reached her. “Eywa, how I missed you.” 

He placed his hands gingerly on the sides of her face and pulled her to him. Neteyam crashed her lips onto her, trying to convey through the kiss just how much he had missed her. Then, his arms fell from her face to her waist as he twirled her in a tight embrace. 

And though her heart was with him at that moment, feeling as though her being was complete, her eyes were focused on someone else. They were trained on Jake as everything flashed in her head. The yellow irises held all the panic and worry she had been expressing the past few days. They searched his eyes for any sign that everything would resolve itself. That in their silence, life could simply go on. 

“I’ve missed you too, darling,” she whispered to him. “You have no idea how much.” 

Neteyam pulled apart from her, needing to stare into his wife’s eyes, and found tears falling down her cheeks. “Oh, baby, I’m here now,” he smiled as his thumb wiped away the streaks on her skin. “And I’m not leaving you ever again.” 

He kissed her once more on the lips, then the corners of her eyes. His fingers traced the features of her face as if it was the very first time that he had seen her. He studied the lines and dots on her skin, he studied the amber in her eyes, he studied the soft skin of her lips. She was as beautiful as the first time he had seen her. 

“Tonight we celebrate these young hunter’s first prey,” Jake’s voice boomed across the air, calling the focus of every single person in attendance. “ We also celebrate, my son, Neteyam’s courage as he faced a srakat and brought it home. Tonight, we feast!” 

All hands were on deck. The tribe got to work to prepare the center for a revelry. Some started preparations for the food – the hunted meat as well as fruits, vegetables, and fungi to serve with it. Others started building a bonfire where later in the evening the young hunters would retell their stories facing their first mark. They would dance and celebrate, and everything would be perfect. No one would find out the indiscretions of the chief and his daughter-in-law. 

But (Y/N) would and it was already eating at her from the inside out. She helped to the best of her abilities in the preparation of the food as well as the clearing of the village center where the bonfire was being set up. But dread squeezed her heart every time Neteyam would sneak a glance at her and would smirk, or when his hand traced her hip when he passed by her, or when he whispered into her ears that they would have their own kind of celebration after the feast. 

She felt the air leave her lungs every time he was near her with his loving touches and teasing words, with his glances filled with adoration and his mouth spread in a smile. It broke her, how he could continue to love her as she was without knowing what she had done. Living with the secret would end her, but she didn’t know how she could confess. Not when he looked at her the way he did. 

Her head was spinning once more. Even more so surrounded by people celebrating her husband and telling her how lucky she was to have Neteyam for a mate. (Y/N) knew she was lucky. She knew she had struck gold when they had chosen each other as partners. That being with him granted her stature and respect, and that there was no better option for her than him. And four nights of pleasure could take that all away. 

The sun had already set, and the chill of the night was starting to set. Music swirled through the air, mixed with the joyous voices of the Omatikaya and the mouth-watering smells of the food. That night was a sight to behold. The clan joined as they rejoiced and celebrated the up-and-comers and the future Olo’eyktan. 

(Y/N) could not celebrate, though. Not without having a plan. Not until she had a way to continue with her life, with her child’s life. She could not continue with the farçe until everything was laid on the table with the person she had started this. 

Her eyes met his across the bonfire and she motioned for him to join her. From the distance, he could see her eyes were reddened and tears were threatening to spill once more. Jake wanted nothing more than to run to her, wrap her in his arms, and tell her that there was nothing for her to worry about. But he couldn’t. Not in front of the village… not in front of his wife. 

As (Y/N) started to walk away, getting lost in the sea of people, he knew exactly where she was going. He kissed Neytiri’s cheek and excused himself, claiming he would be going around to talk to the families of each of the new hunters. She smiled in return, continuing to speak with another woman. 

Disappearing between the people as the girl had done proved to not be difficult. Everyone was moving around, impossible to keep still. It was a celebration at the end of the day. He followed the step he knew she had taken, walking slyly down the path. It had become second nature to him, the journey to his salvation. 

Jake could hear her sniffling before he entered the tent and he felt his heart sink. Her pain destroyed him, and him being the reason for it finished him. Happiness was all he ever wanted for her, even if it wasn’t with him – though he hoped that she would want it with him. A small part of him still prayed that she chose him in the end. 

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” he cooed as soon as he entered the nest. “What did you have to say?” 

“I’m scared, Jake,” she croaked out. “Things have gotten so messed up and I don’t know what to do. I’m so lost. And now…” 

“What happened, (Y/N)? What’s changed since this morning?” 

The same panic that had overtaken her hours before pinched her insides. It cut off her air supply and she felt herself growing faint. But she couldn’t keep running. Not anymore. Not when there were no more nights to wait for, no more mornings to sleep on it. She had to do it here and now. 

“I had been feeling sort of ill since yesterday, but it was nothing to worry about,” she started. “This morning, when I got the healing tent, I fainted.” 

“Are you okay? Mo’at didn’t say anything.” 

“Everything’s okay. It was only dehydration and exhaustion,” she calmed him. (Y/N) stared at her fingers, suddenly far more interesting than holding Jake’s line of sight. “But she did tell me some news.” 

“(Y/N), please,” he groaned. “You’re killing me here.” 

“She told me I was pregnant, Jake,” she whimpered. “And I’m certain that it’s your child.” 

Silence fell upon them and (Y/N) was sure he would curse her out. That what he had promised the first night they had been together, had spilled out in the heat of the moment. That everything they had gone through had been done simply in the heat of the moment. 

Instead, he planted a passionate kiss on her lips and twirled her in an embrace. He peppered her face with kisses, tasting in his lips the saltiness of her tears. He kissed until there was nothing left and his mouth to her neck, where he kissed until she laughed. 

“Jake,” she chuckled. “Jake, stop.” 

“Here,” he said, placing a hand on the valley of her stomach. “It’s my child.” 

“Yes, Jake,” she smiled sadly. “And this is not something I can hide from anyone. This is not something I can hide from Neteyam.” 

He could see the despair in her eyes and once more he wished he was the one carrying all that guilt. He wanted his eyes to be the ones crying those tears for her. He wanted his heart to feel the pang of fear hers did. He wanted all the pain to be felt by him, and only him. 

“Then, let’s run away,” he blurted. “Let’s leave right now. Just you, me, and our baby.” 

“No, Jake. That’s not the solution. You can’t do that to your family – your children. And I can’t do that to Neteyam,” she cried. “I’ll just have to tell him the truth and… I don’t know, hope.” 

“What happens if he rejects you, (Y/N)? What happens if Neteyam can’t live with what we’ve done and casts you aside?” 

“Then, I accept the consequences of my actions. It wouldn’t be wrong of him to do so.” 

“But I’m giving you a way to not have to go through more pain, sevin,” he countered. “I’m giving you an easy escape here. A way for us to be together without any trouble – the three of us. Don’t you want that?” 

“You already know what –who– I want, Jake. This should have never happened, and I should not have allowed this to go on for this long,” she responded. “I never meant for you to feel this way. Not about me. I thought…”

“Don’t ask me to regret this, (Y/N). Don’t ask me to repent over what happened between us,” he pleaded. His eyes kept searching hers for the answer he wanted. That, maybe, in the deepest parts of her soul, she wanted him just as much as he did. “Don’t ask me to give you up without a fight.” 

“I was never yours to fight for, Jake. Not in the way you want,” she said. “I gave you my body in the most desperate time in my life, and for reasons beyond me, I kept giving it to you. But it was only that. I can’t give you my heart because it belongs to someone else.” 

“He couldn’t even give you the one thing you wanted more in this world!” he cried. Tears fell from his eyes as desperation coursed through his veins. “You even told me he couldn’t touch you in the ways that you wanted. It was me, (Y/N). I showed you everything you could have. Everything you can still have. All you have to do is choose me.” 

“And, what, you leave your family behind? Your children? Your wife? They don’t deserve that, Jake. They need you.” 

“They have their mother and they’ll have their brother,” he retorted. “It can be as easy as that, (Y/N). You, me, and our baby against the world.” 

“I can’t do that to them,” she lamented. “I can’t let you do that either.” 

There was so much distress that surrounded them, clutching at their lungs and their hearts. There had been so many words unsaid, left for a later time, and they came bursting out. Neither of them wanted to hurt the other, to break their hearts. But they had tried too hard to keep things buried and they had festered for far too long. 

“Then say it’s his,” he let out dryly. “Make him think the baby is his. And we can keep going as though nothing has happened. We will forget we were together –that it all started with your heat, devolving in more– and we will take it all to our graves that the child is mine. I can let go that you don’t want me, but I can’t lose you completely. I won’t let that happen.” 

“I don’t want to keep lying to him, Jake. He deserves better than that –better than me.” 

“There’s no one better than you, oeyä hì’i ‘awpo. If there was no Mother Goddess on my Earth, I’d believe it was you. If I had not met Eywa on this planet, I’d believe it was you,” he spoke in devotion. “So, please, grant me this prayer. And maybe I can go back to my life.”

(Y/N) kept quiet as she drank in his words. They pricked at her heart as she muttered her apologies to him quietly. She was breaking his heart, and she was hurting someone she cared for. “Alright,” she sighed. “I’ll tell him that the baby is his, and that will be the end of us.” 

Though his heart had been shattered, Jake wanted nothing more than to be close to her again. They were supposed to have one more night together and he had the opportunity to do just that. He snaked his hands to her cheeks, committing to memory the warmth of her skin, and pressed his lips to hers. 

“Jake,” she muttered against him. “You have to stop.” 

“One more night,” he responded. “We were supposed to have one more night.” 

“Stop, Jake,” she repeated as his kisses didn’t relent. “We don’t have one more night. It’s over.”

“Please, sevin. Just one more.” 

“No, Jake. We can’t. You need to go.” 

“Get your hands off my fucking wife,” a voice grumbled. 

***

Neteyam had been searching for his wife for the better part of the bonfire, but no one had seen her in some time. He looked through the crowd twice, but could not find her beautiful face. The face he looked for in his darkest times, the face that brought her peace and solace with a simple look. 

He was in love with her since the moment he knew what love was. He knew she was his past, his present, and his future. That nothing could ever push them apart. 

“Yo, little bro, have you seen (Y/N)? I can’t find her anywhere.” 

“Check your nest, dude. She’s probably there,” he waved him off, too engrossed in whatever game he was playing. “She’s been tired these past couple of days.”

“Alright, thanks.” 

He ran in the direction of their tent, eager to find his wife in the privacy of their home. Hopefully, he’d find her still awake and they could have some private fun. He had spent six days without her and his body could feel it. His arousal had pent up and he needed to let it out. For the past few days, all he could do was think of (Y/N). The swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the rise of her hips, and the sweet, warm embrace of her insides. 

It wasn’t just the physicality of the moment. He needed her like he needed to breathe. He needed to hear her laugh, to see her smile, to fall asleep in her arms, he needed all of her – heart, body, and soul. The same way he was sure she needed him too. 

But he could have never imagined he would hear what he did when he reached the tent. A mind-shattering confession that made his blood boil. 

“Then say it’s his,” Neteyam heard his father say. “Make him think the baby is his. And we can keep going as though nothing has happened. We will forget we were together –that it all started with your heat, devolving in more– and we will take it all to our graves that the child is mine. I can let go that you don’t want me, but I can’t lose you completely. I won’t let that happen.” 

“I don’t want to keep lying to him, Jake. He deserves better than that –better than me.” 

“There’s no one better than you, oeyä hì’i ‘awpo. If there was no Mother Goddess on my Earth, I’d believe it was you. If I had not met Eywa on this planet, I’d believe it was you,” his father spoke in devotion. “So, please, grant me this prayer. And maybe I can go back to my life.”

After a moment of silence, (Y/N) responded. “Alright,” she sighed. “I’ll tell him that the baby is his, and that will be the end of us.” 

Then, he heard a kiss. Followed by another and another. 

“Jake,” she muttered. “You have to stop.” 

“One more night,” he responded. “We were supposed to have one more night.” 

“Stop, Jake,” she repeated as his kisses didn’t relent. “We don’t have one more night. It’s over.”

“Please, sevin. Just one more.” 

“No, Jake,” she cried. “ We can’t. You need to go.” 

Neteyam couldn’t hold it in anymore and slipped into the tent. His hands were balled into fists and his teeth were gritted as he grumbles, “Get your hands off my fucking wife.” 

(Y/N) and Jake startled and jumped apart, fear flashing through their eyes. This was it. Neteyam had found out the truth in the worst way possible and they were sure this was the end for the both of them. 

Instead, he stepped between his wife and his father, a hand protectively in front of her. “I think she’s said her piece,” he said. “(Y/N) has asked you to leave.”

“What’re you gonna do, Neteyam?” Jake spoke. “Look, son, I don’t know what you think you’ve heard, but…”

“I heard that you fucked my wife,” he snarled. “That you took advantage of the fact that she was in heat to fuck her. And now she’s pregnant.” 

“Nete,” she breathed. She placed a hand on his outstretched arm, making his head snap back, his eyes softening as he looked into hers. 

“And… she had asked you to leave.” 

“I won’t,” Jake dared. “That child she’s carrying is mine.”

“No, dad. It’s mine,” he growled. “Everything that happens to her, happens to me. Every fiber of her being belongs to me, just like I belong to her. Nothing that you did will ever erase that. You may have fathered this baby, but I’m the one that will raise them. I’m the one they will call father. That child is more mine than it will ever be yours.” 

“(Y/N), please,” he pleaded to her. “We can…”

“Not another word, dad,” Neteyam spat. “Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he took a deep breath and continued. “You’re gonna leave our nest and go back to the bonfire. You will go back to your wife and your children, and you will enjoy the rest of the night. After that, you’ll never speak of this event again. You won’t even mutter about it in your sleep. You will only speak to (Y/N) when absolutely necessary. If not, you’ll tell me. This child will be ours and that’s what they will know. You will be a proud grandparent and nothing more. They will carry the family name, but not because of you. It will be because of me. (Y/N) is my wife, and she is my family. You will never interfere again. Do I make myself clear?” 

“(Y/N)...” 

“I said, am I clear, dad?” 

“Crystal,” Jake spat. 

“Good.” Neteyam gifted him a spine-chilling smile. “Now go enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Jake tried to catch another glimpse at (Y/N) but his son stood in the way. So, he admitted defeat, and with slumped shoulders, he left the tent, and his heart, behind. At any other moment, he would have been proud that Neteyam had stood up to him. But he was taking everything from him. His newfound reason for being, his heart, and his child. An ending to his and (Y/N)’s story he could have never imagined. 

The moment Neteyam was sure his father was far away, he turned to his wife, his gaze softening once more as he looked at her. She looked frail, defeated, and it saddened him. The last thing he ever wanted was to see her in pain. 

“I’m sorry, Nete,” she broke down, slumping against his chest. His arms tightened around her in a comforting embrace and he lovingly shushed her as she repeated the same words. “I’m so sorry.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry about, my love,” he comforted her. “This… this is all my fault.”

“How could it be your fault, Nete?” she sobbed. “You haven’t done anything wrong. Ever.”

“You were supposed to go on the trip with us,” he sighed. “Mom told me to ask you, but I thought you wouldn’t want to come. Since we had that talk a week before we left, I thought it would have been best for you to take this time to rest.” 

“Nete…”

“Instead, I left you here, vulnerable and alone.”

“I’m not innocent in this, Nete,” she stated, locking her eyes on his. “I could have stopped at any point, but I didn’t. And now we’re in this mess because of me.”

“It’s only a mess if we let it be,” he responded. “I meant what I said, baby. I will raise this child because it is a part of you and you belong to me as I belong to you. One mate, for the rest of my life. Our souls are bound together for eternity, (Y/N). No matter what.” 

“I don’t deserve you, Nete. And you deserve better than me, than what I’ve done to you.” 

“Oel ngati kameie, (Y/N).”

“Oel ngati kameie, Nete,” she smiled between tears. “I love you.” 

“I love you more,” he chuckled, kissing her temple. “I love you more than life itself. I love you, I love us, and I love the life that is growing inside you.” 

He pressed his lips softly onto hers, his hands cradling her jaw. Neteyam pulled her close, his body flush with hers. He wanted to comfort her. Even at that moment, he could not think of anything other than her solace. His heart had broken at her infidelity, yes. But he was angrier at the fact that he had left her and that he wasn’t doing enough to keep her body. 

“Show me,” he mumbled against her lips, a grin spreading across his face. “Show me what you need, baby.”

“W-what?”

“I want to give you everything and more than what he gave you,” he breathed. “So, tell me and show me what you need.”

“Nete…” 

“Please, my love. I want nothing more than to please you,” he groaned. “I want to find all the places he did and claim them back. I want to discover all the places he didn’t and leave my mark. I want your body to belong to me as it once did.”

(Y/N) took her lower lip between her teeth. How could he still want her? How could he stand before her and speak words of love when all she’d done was take him for granted? She wasn’t sure if it hurt more that she had done what she did or that he could so easily forgive her. 

But as his lips took hold of her lips, then her jaw and her neck, she couldn’t help the pooling between her legs that grew in tandem. There was something different in his kisses, a different kind of passion than the one she shared with Jake. It wasn’t fevered. It was natural and welcoming, it simply felt right. 

She took his hand in hers, guiding it to where she needed him the most. “Here,” she breathed as his fingers traced her loincloth. “I need you here.” 

With her free hand, she untied her garment, baring herself in front of him as she had done many times before. Yet, it felt like the first time. Their chance to renew and start over. She guided his hand, whispering in his twitching ears what to do with his fingers.

“Like this?” Neteyam whispered as he did as told. Always the perfect rule follower. “Is this what you need?” 

“Yes,” she moaned. 

His fingers grazed over the aching bundle of nerves, teasing and learning her. He stared at every reaction from her, no matter how minuscule. Neteyam traced her, grazing over the bud, using her wetness to glide over it. He drew shapes and added pressure. He studied her sounds, edged on by her beautiful melody. 

“Don’t stop, Nete,” she mewled. “I’m close.” 

His smirk grew as she moaned against him. Her fingernails trailed his arms, looking for any form of stability. She was unraveling under his touch, coming undone by the agility of his fingers. A skill she had yet to experience from him, but he had already proven to be a fast learner. He moved as though he’d done it a million times before. As though he knew all along what she needed and had been waiting for her to request it. 

With the right pace and the correct among of pressure, (Y/N) was moaning out his name and growing weak at the knees. Her nails dug into his skin as she grew weak, holding onto the only thing she could. Her breath hitched in her throat, unable to steady her breathing. It was like the very first time she had felt this sensation – double the pleasure. 

“Very good, baby,” he cooed in her ear as he peppered her face with soft kisses. “What else? What else do you want?” 

Through hooded eyes, she smiled at him. She got down on her knees softly, never breaking her gaze from his eyes. She untied his loincloth, allowing his erection to spring free. Her hand grasped him by the end of his shaft and he followed every move she made. From the kisses she placed on his stomach to the way her tongue lolled out of her mouth to lick a stripe from the base to the tip, a move that had him sucking in a breath. 

(Y/N) opened her mouth, stretching to allow his length to fully enter her. She lowered her head softly, twirling her tongue against the skin as she took him completely. She hollowed her cheeks and bobbed her head, moving at a painfully slow pace, teasing him to speak up. Because just as much as he wanted to please her, she wanted to please him. To unlock the deepest desires of his body. To give herself completely to him. 

“Oh, Eywa,” he groaned. “That tongue.”

She chuckled against him, sending reverberating vibrations rippling through his body. His hands landed on her hair. In complete juxtaposition to his father, he brushed her hair lovingly, keeping it off her face as he let her set the speed she desired. 

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he could feel the tightness in the pit of his stomach grow. Between the sight of his wife on her knees for him and the way she used her mouth around him, he knew there was no chance for him to last long enough. His breathing grew staggered as his sensitiveness heightened 

With the expertise she had acquired, it didn’t take more than a few bobs of her head to have Neteyam spilling his release inside her as he let out a guttural moan. But he grew impatient with being so far from her. He pulled her to her feet and crashed his lips onto hers, using her surprise to slip his tongue into her mouth. He tasted himself in her mouth, the salty essence of his release still present in her. 

She moaned against him, her arousal reaching unfathomable levels. (Y/N) felt as though she was going in heat once more, her hunger insatiable and untamable. She felt warmth rushing through her, making her skin feel like it was on fire. She needed more, she needed everything, she needed all of him. 

Their kiss grew hungrier as their hands searched each other’s bodies. Neteyam removed her necklace, exposing the last bit of her to him. He kissed her jaw, then her neck, and kept traveling to the mounds of her breasts. 

“There,” she breathed. “Kiss me there.” 

He smirked at her and took one of her stiffened peaks into his mouth. He ran his tongue flat against one as his hand pinched and tweaked the other. He hollowed his cheeks just as she had done with him, and circled her. He lapped until a string of moans fell from her throat and her hands nestled between the strands of his hair. He switched from one mound to the other, neither was left unattended for more than a few seconds. 

“Nì'ul, Nete,” she whimpered. “Oe kin nì’ul.” 

“Pseng, (Y/N)?” he murmured. “Peng oe pseng.”

Instead of using her words, (Y/N) guided him toward the mat, laying him completely flat on his back. She grinned mischievously at him as she crawled over him, her legs on either side of his chest.

“There is something I wanted to try,” she confessed meekly. “Something I’ve never done before.”

“Anything you want, baby,” he grinned. “I like where your head is at. Now come here.” 

Neteyam curled his arms around her thighs and guided her to his face. Although it was a position that was new to them, he was guided by carnal instinct. He breathed her in, her scent as familiar as the day he knew what it meant. He stared at her wetness for a moment, admiring the pulsing core in his gaze before he attached his mouth to it. 

He ran the tip of this tongue from her folds, parting them and tasting her essence, to her clit, where he remained. He swirled against the bud, reveling in the sounds that were expelled from her body. As he listened to the sweet harmony, his tongue journeyed from the swollen mound to her entrance, pushing through and exploring her insides. 

(Y/N) let out a strangled breath as her husband’s tongue pierced her. He pistoned into her at a teasing rate, chuckling as she groaned. He was exploring her, learning of her from the inside out. But, once he added his thumb and circled her clit, the girl was screaming in pleasure. 

At the rate he was going, it was no surprise when she was spilling all over his tongue a few seconds later. Her weight fell onto his face, the pleasure too much as her body shook. The suddenness of her contact took the breath out of Neteyam’s lungs, making him moan at the sensation. A sound that ran through her body, making her grow more aroused, even in her starting stage of exhaustion. 

“I need you, Nete,” she keened. “I need to feel you inside.”  

“Me too, baby,” he answered as she climbed down his body, her face close enough to kiss. “I will claim you the same way I did when we got married. Just like the same way when we promised ourselves to each other before Eywa.” 

At the memory of that night, tears fell from (Y/N)’s eyes. It was a reminder of the vow she had broken, the one rule Na’vi mates lived by. She remembered saying those words, promising Neteyam that she would give herself completely to him and only him. But she had gone back on that statement for a few days of pleasure. 

“No, baby, don’t cry,” he comforted. Neteyam sat up, sliding her body down to his lap, and wrapped her in a warm embrace. His cock very prominently pressed against their stomachs, a fact he was trying to ignore. “I said that because I want this moment to feel just like we felt that day. I want to erase everything that happened these past few days and replace it with the memory of us. With the feeling of my cock deep inside you.”

“I’m sorry, Neteyam,” she whispered against his neck. “I’m sorry for being so weak.” 

“No, (Y/N). You are not weak. You’re the strongest woman I know,” he said before he kissed her lips tenderly. “The most beautiful.” Another kiss. “The most perfect woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

“Make love to me, Nete,” she cried. “Make me forget there was ever anyone else inside me.” 

He kissed her deeply once more before moving her to align himself with her entrance. But before sinking onto his length, (Y/N) took hold of both of their queues. As she lowered her body onto his, the tendrils at the ends of their braid made their connection. 

They both gasped deeply at the overwhelming touch. It was what was always missing for (Y/N), the spiritual connection that bonded their hearts and souls together. A feeling that overtook every other sensation in their bodies. It synched the beating of their hearts, their breathing, their thoughts. It was a promise not only to themselves but to the Mother Goddess that their entire beings belonged to her creation. 

“Oel ngati kameie, (Y/N),” Neteyam breathed. 

“Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam,” she muttered in reply. 

(Y/N) was the first to move, her hips grinding down on his lap, the initial pain of the stretch gone in the blink of an eye. In its stead was the feeling of fullness –completeness. This was the reason it felt good with Jake, but it never felt quite right. The older Sully did not complete her, and he never would. He was experienced in the art of sex and he had been able to teach her things she never thought imaginable. But she simply could not give him her heart because it did not belong to her anymore. 

Neteyam spoke her name like a prayer, the only word that could guide him to salvation. She was the air in his lungs, the blood in his veins, the thoughts in his head. (Y/N) was his everything and he could never stand to lose her to anyone. He would show her every day of their lives why their lives had been entwined. 

With Neteyam, there was no learning the areas inside her that had her screaming and squirming. He knew exactly what to do, the right buttons to push. He knew where to kiss, where to nip, where to thrust.  

At that moment she understood. The reason she had needed so much from Jake was not that Neteyam was lacking, it was because she could not live with just the physical connection. (Y/N) truly yearned for the way souls connected in the act. He may have known how to fuck her and get her to finish, but she did not see him. 

This is what her heart truly yearned for. Her and Neteyam’s bodies were connected, in more ways than one. They fell into a perfect rhythm, their moves perfectly choreographed, the pace beautifully synchronized. At that moment, they were one. 

“I’m close, baby,” he groaned into her neck, their bodies flush in a tight embrace. “I’m so close.” 

“Me too,” she groaned. “Just… keep going.” 

His hips met hers, his cock pressing on the most sensitive part of her insides. They were breathless, panting as they chased together their finish. A couple of more angled thrusts and their releases were mixing deep inside her. It felt like electricity coursing through them, passing through their limbs until it finished where they were joined. 

(Y/N) slumped against her husband, her lips leaving soft kisses against his neck as Neteyam kissed the tears that had fallen unconsciously away. Still connected, the pair lay on their mat as the exhaustion of the night started to wrap its claws around them. 

“I don’t want you to ever feel sorry for what happened with him,” he whispered to her as he drew comforting circles across her back. “There is absolutely nothing you could do that would ever push me away. At the end of the day, I know you will choose me because I would do the same. You are my reason for living, (Y/N). You are the reason that Eywa allowed my creation. I love you more than I love life itself.”

She kissed him in response. The kind of kiss that mended wounds. The kind of kiss that spoke where words could not. Because it was more than that. It was a promise. That she would be the kind of woman that deserved a love like the one Neteyam was giving her. She would, now and forever, be the woman he was so in love with.

That night was the ending of a sentence and the start of a whole new chapter. They would remember that week as nothing more than a nightmare, a distant memory that could have been just their imagination. Because it could not be real, not to them. 

But for Jake Sully, it would become a constant reminder of what he had grasped so tightly in his hands. It was the realization that his heart beat a different tune than it had decades before. He did love Neytiri. She had given him a new life and she was the mother of his children. There would always be love in his heart for her. But somehow he was no longer in love with her and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Somehow, (Y/N) had made her way into his heart, a place he did not know was vacant. He thought, he prayed, he wished that she would have chosen him. That his fears that she loved his son more than she could want him were not true. He had allowed himself the fantasy that in another life it was her and him and their baby. But it wasn’t real, and it was clear that it never would be. 

She had chosen Neteyam, just as she had said she would. And it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. From the beginning, it was just a game to pass her through the week. But in the heat of the moment, love snuck in between and changed the rules. Rules that only affected him, and they would continue to do so for the rest of his life.

A/N: I'm lying, this is not the last part. There's an epilogue coming in a few hours cause it's already 1 am where I am😈😈 it's short but it's worth it! honestly thought I'd be able to post both today but I'm exhausted

Taglist: @uwunuggetchan @ellabellabus07 @sweetllamaparadise @crazy4books1 @jake-sullys-whore @saltedcoffeescotch @laylasbunbunny @atxara

Next -> (posted at 2:30 am)

[nowiamcoveredinyou]

My world

Sherlock x reader

Fluff

The serene afternoon of spring. The rejuvenation of nature, the extremely ethereal weather, all of this gave me extreme joy and peace. The winter was frosty, the winter was cold and painful. It always pains me to see the trees losing it's flowers, it's like losing your special one. It haunts me, the thought of losing the one I love.

I chuckled as the one I love snored lightly as soon as my intrusive thought crept in. As if telling me "lose whom? Me? Never!". Sherlock was taking a nap resting his head on my lap. And I ran my fingers through his curls. The fear of losing a loved one is our eternal fear, both of ours. He lost his bestfriend and it haunts him till this day. In a way he lost his sister too, she was never to be free and we knew it.

It haunted him that he'd lose John watson too. He did everything to take care of him. To protect him. Now I was rather a different case for him. He never wanted to love anyone in his whole life. Yet he says when I entered to his room all he felt was the urge to stay close to me, to protect me, to.. to love me. He did you know, secretly loved me for months, watching me dating other men but never stopped loving me for a moment. He doubted I'd ever love him back, he says he's flawed, he did wrong in the past, but I'm flawed too, I'm no perfection, I've hurted people too, been hurt as well.

So to say, two absolutely fucked up people found comfort in eachother's arms. Who are we to judge? We are just loving eachother. He helped me forget my past and I helped him to do the same. They're not gone though, they're buried deep down, though haunts us still. Why would we care? We're happy here in this scruffy flat, solving crimes.

With little movements he finally opened his eyes and looked straight up at me,

"did you sleep well?" I asked lightly touching his nose.

"yeah I did" he said with his sleepy voice which is cute but... Sexy at the same time, "how long did I sleep?"

"for forty five minutes, not much" I replied, he got up from my lap and sat looking at me,

"how's this fucked up brain?" He asked knowing what a worrier I am, and not the fighting one, the one that worries alot. We formed this word to define a worrisome person too, we are that silly.

"it's fucked up, what can I say" I replied leaning on his chest, now it's his turn to comfort me.

"aww my darling, I hate it, I despise seeing you like this" he replied wrapping an arm around me, "but don't worry, no fingers will be raised at you again" I clunged to him at this, recalling the fingers that actually were raised at me, forever. I never knew I'd loved , that too by this man. "And by fate we met, by ch- "

"fate?" I interrupted raising my head to meet his eyes, "you don't believe in fate do you?"

"I didn't, guess I still don't" he answered, "but fate did give me two rather important people whom I adore, you ofcourse and John" he caressed my cheek with his thumb as he smiled at me, "you two are flawed just like me, you two made mistakes just like me, but as I've told this many times that I still get this terrible thought that we might just all be human, innit?"

I stared at him before answering, "yes, we are, and I deserve you" I leaned again, right where I belong, to him.

"and I hope I deserve you too" he held me tightly. We don't know what our future holds, we don't judge eachother by our pasts, we're here, in this moment and we're happy, in eachother's arms, he often says, you need one person to make you a better person and for him that was John and then me. For me it's him too. He's my world, and I'm his as well.

[kitashousewife]

Press Conference

i saw a video on tik tok and got immediately inspired to write this so enjoy!

part 2 is up!

pairing: timeskip!atsumu x fem!reader

warnings: none! fluff, lowercase intentional

what an evening. you had been in the city, tasked with reporting on the MSBY match tonight. you got amazing seats, (thanks to your boss) and free dinner that was amazing. it was such a whirlwind of a few hours, but you are grateful.

your first big writing assignment since being hired on as a journalist. your small, practically hidden articles were absolutely nothing compared to the one you’re going to write after this.

you’re so proud. three months of working tirelessly on said small articles, other teeny reports, and doing grunt work around the office has finally been recognized. when your boss pulled you aside and assigned you to report on not just the game, but the press conference after, you were thrilled. after you found out which game it was; well that was just the icing on the cake.

you wouldn’t call yourself a super fan, by any means. you know exactly who the star players are, what position they play, you even tuned into a few of the matches while you were relaxing at home. you happened to followed a couple of the guys on instagram as well. how could you not? they are all gorgeous. however, one player in particular has always caught your eye.

miya atsumu has been a player you have always been aware of. back in high school, when you worked for your school’s paper, you remember your classmates talking about him after a practice match your team had with inarizaki.

“did you see #7?”

“how about his twin, #11? they were crazy talented.”

“not bad to look at, either.”

after high school, you weren’t quick to forget about atsumu. while you studied at university, tried to get smaller pieces and articles here and there, you would see his face consistently. advertisements, brand deals, as well as his rising fame kept him in the spotlight pretty much everywhere you went.

those girls weren’t wrong either, atsumu was quite handsome.

you almost wish those girls from your class could see you now, sitting two rows behind the bench, VIP pass around your neck, notebook on your lap. you were professional, in all sense of the word. you even got yourself a new outfit and matching heels for the event. (you started to regret the heels, but that’s neither here nor there) from the first serve to the last, you were enthralled. watching such talented players in person was a totally different experience. the lighting, the sounds, the environment; everything was perfect. there was only one small distraction throughout the game.

you had noticed atsumu right away. even through the chaos of fans cheering and the loud music, you could hear his laugh and his voice as he chatted with his teammates. at one point you swear you caught him looking at you. having only seen him through ads, billboards, and various social media posts, you finally got to see him in person. and man, was he a sight.

atsumu’s broad shoulders, strong thighs, and quick hands were some of the things you noticed right away. the way he would move his tongue around against his cheek while he focused, the confident smirks he sent the opponents, and his very sharp abs were the things you noticed later; though you are sure he was wiping his face off with the bottom of his jersey every single time you looked. i’m not making that up, right?

however, even with his distracting looks, the game was incredible and MSBY won. you quickly scrambled to grab your belongings and follow the other reporters to the press room.

you had a great set of notes, all of your post game press conference questions were lined up. you hoped to get at least one question in, your boss was adamant that he hears your voice while he watched from home. you wouldn’t let him down either.

as bokuto, sakusa, and hinata came in to sit at the front, the nerves started to kick in. what if i don’t speak up? will they hear my questions? what if they questions sound stupid?

you snapped out of your thoughts quickly as the quick footsteps and loud voice came through the room.

“so sorry, shoyo move in please i need to get to my chair,” atsumu shuffled behind his teammates as he scrambled to his seat. “alright, let’s get started!”

after taking a drink from his water, atsumu looked out into the crowd of journalists and locked eyes with you. your brows raised slightly, eyes widened, and as if looking into a mirror; atsumu did the same. it felt as if everyone else in the room slowly disappeared, like the two of you were the only ones left. atsumu was fighting the urge to stand up and walk up to you, to get your name, number, anything.

he saw you during the match and couldn’t stop thinking about you. he wanted your attention, bad. he pulled out his best moves, coolest sets, and best serves he had been practicing.

“atsumu answer, you’re making us look stupid.”

atsumu’s eyes quickly found sakusa’s; glaring, annoyance clear in his voice. atsumu realized he was, in fact, supposed to be answering questions; not starting at the pretty journalist.

“oh, right. um, yeah, i thought our communication was great tonight, i don’t have any complaints,” atsumu leans into the mic, smirk on his face. a couple chuckles are heard from around the room, and the reporters are asked for their next question.

this was it. this was your chance. abruptly standing up, causing your chair to squeak, all eyes turned to you. all questions forgotten, you start to feel the sweat on the back of your neck. it’s now or never.

“this question is for, well all four of you actually, um, what would you say was your biggest motivation tonight?” your hands shake slightly. you hope nobody notices. you grab your pen to write down the answers. as bokuto opens his mouth, atsumu whisper yells to hinata next to him,

“oh gosh, she’s beautiful. don’t ya think?”

little did atsumu know, just because he’s whispering, doesn’t mean the mic wouldn’t pick it up. hinata holds back a laugh, but the other people in the room can’t help it. the room is full of laughter. but, you aren’t laughing, though. was i right earlier? did he notice me?you feel warmth spreading across your cheeks which intensified as you look up, your eyes meeting atsumu’s.

“oh man, did ya hear that?” atsumu asks you into the mic, his own cheeks dusted pink, with a sheepish look on his face. you quickly nod back, biting your bottom laugh to keep from giggling at the look he giving you. atsumu groans and covers his face with his hands in embarrassment, and the laughing around the room picks up again. despite atsumu’s mishap, the questions continue shortly after.

the press conference wraps up quickly, allowing the players to leave and get a good nights rest. you got amazing notes, your article is going to be incredible. during your cab ride home, you start to plan a small outline in your head. if you didn’t secure a better spot in the company after this, you would be shocked.

after getting into your apartment and changing your clothes, you sit down and open your laptop to add your notes onto a document. the buzz of your phone draws your attention away from the screen. who’s messaging me this late?

an instagram notification appears on your screen. you received a message. you are about to lock your phone and get back to work, only to realize who the message is from.

atsumu.miya: you’re the reporter from tonight, yeah?

[erodasfishtacos]

Crackin’ the Code

prompt: Harry and YN tie the knot in a beautiful castle off the coat of Italy. Harry reflects back on his life before his love. YN has past insecurities creep on on her before the wedding. 

note: this is the necklace that YN receives as (one) her wedding gifts from H and she wears it during the ceremony.

word count: 9k

warnings: smut

***<-- click for visuals throughout (super important for this one shot!)

if you enjoy this fic (which i worked REALLY hard on) please reblog, like, comment, and come talk to me!

please please considering donating to my kofi since all my work is FREE to you guys!

---

The world expected an extravagant wedding with week-long festivities, celebrations in destinations only the richest could afford, and all the big names of the business world who ran in his circle.

The media outlets were just waiting, quite impatiently, for the day that the richest man in Europe settled down with a significant other. They would have news stories for decades when it came to the couple.

Of course, Harry Styles was going to marry a household name - the public thought. 

Whether it be an heiress, a model, maybe even an actress? The choices for the most eligible bachelor were limitless.

Any time he was at an event, usually a charity gala or black-tie dinner, paparazzi would take candid pictures of him with any female and then the following day publish an article about how they were a couple.

However, what the world didn’t know was that he’s been in a relationship for a year and a half, has already been engaged after the eight month mark, and moved into pretty soon after but that was hushed.

Nearly no one except a few key employees and family members knew about the couple. Everyone in his office building in the heart of London had to sign NDA’s at the beginning of their job - though almost all of them didn’t know she existed.

Harry did not put any limits on YN for the wedding planning. 

No price, no expectations, nothing. If she wanted ten-thousand people or zero people in attendance that was her call. If she wanted to drop ten million dollars on a wedding or a hundred that was fine too.

The CEO never fantasized about a wedding. 

Well he had but no in the terms most do. He didn’t sit and imagine the venue, the food menu, or the decorations. 

No, he didn’t care about any of that, he daydreamed about the fact that he and someone would commit themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

Harry wanted to marry his fiance after their first date.

He was usually a very patient man, couldn’t have gotten where he was if he wasn’t. When it came to this, each day he wasn’t married to the love of his life felt like torture.

Since he proposed to her in his briefs in their bedroom, he had imagined her looking immaculate in whatever she chose to wear, exchanging vows of devotion, and then being tied together for life.

He never thought he would get here. He’d never felt a connection with someone like he had with the feisty waitress who bumped into him. Begin to believe that he was broken or lacking emotion because no matter how sweet the girl was he couldn’t see himself with the person.

Don’t get him wrong. 

He took many women out on dates that were downright awful. Asking him about money, suggesting he take them on expensive vacations or buy them a designer item, being too forward and palming his crotch in the middle of dinner.

One of the last dates he went on before he gave up was the one that made him stop looking all together, about six months before he ran in YN.

---

It was an expensive restaurant in the heart of London. It had a waitlist for months but one call and they could magically make an available booth for the billionaire within the hour. 

The girl he was sitting across from was a so-to-speak blind date. 

A set up by one of his business partners who stated that they would be a good match. Harry had rolled his eyes at that but couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to say ‘no.’

Her name was Aria, she had a respectable job at a local law firm as an assistant to a very well-known lawyer in the area. 

She was beautiful in the way of looking just like an instagram model with long dark extensions, false eyelashes that made it hard to determine what color her eyes were, and an outfit that made Harry a bit embarrassed to be seen with her - short and low cut at a five-star restaurant.

“Yeah, I just got back from Mallorca with a group of friends,” She tells him, flipping through the photo album on her phone to show him pictures. 

When she ‘accidentally’ swipes (and slowly swipes) again so that Harry definitely gets a glimpse of a nude selfie.

Harry internally groans, couldn’t be less turned on by that, and doesn’t acknowledge it - much to Aria's disappointment. 

She was fishing for a compliment, maybe a request for him to take the phone and look closer at the picture like most men would.

Instead he sits back, takes a sip of his wine, and nods curtly, “It looks like you had a good time.”

She stumbles for a second, confused by his sudden standoffishness, and clicks her phone locked before putting it next to her on the table, “Did I offend you?”

He was already done with the date, with the dating scene, with fucking everything honestly. 

What a goddamn waste of a night.

Harry barks out a cruel laugh, “It takes a lot more to offend me than a picture of y’tits but it’s a bit offensive that y’think so little of yourself that you think that’s how y’going to impress me. Those tits didn’t impress me much, darling.”

Aria’s eyes narrow in blatant disbelief at how much of an asshole he was being. 

Granted, she did feel a bit of embarrassment creeping up in her stomach about thinking showing him that picture was a good idea but still, he didn’t need to react like that.

“It really makes sense why you don’t have a girlfriend, it’s because of what an asshole you are,” The girl sneers with venom as she tucks her phone into her clutch, swigging down the last drops of the expensive wine.

He shrugs like he’s unbothered, a nasty feeling quilling in the pit of his stomach as he keeps an outward expression of nonchalance and ease, it make the raven-haired woman even more furious as he replies cooly, “I’m not being an asshole, honesty hurts sometimes. Maybe if you think the way you attract someone is by nude pictures, you should try Tinder or Bumble.”

“I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have,” Aria tells him before pushing out her chair and leaving before the main course even arrives. 

Harry sits there for a moment, swallowing and pleading with himself to not let the nasty words set in because they felt too real and too personal - she had actually struck some type of chord within and it had his stomach churning.

When he pays the bill, apologizing profusely for leaving dinner before the entree arrives but with an excuse of a company emergency - it’s eerily quiet in his car as he drives home to his massive home with no one in it.

It doesn’t happen often. 

He should call his mum, Gemma, Dorothy even to talk it out but he feels so fucking alone because he can’t get it right. He can’t connect with anyone and it is starting to feel hopeless.

He is angry, so angry at himself, that he can’t shake the feeling of it and he feels like he’s losing control because he never fucking talks about his emotions.

A beautiful set of dishware was sitting out his dining room table, the housekeeper had carefully unwrapped them earlier in the day. 

They were imported from Beijing, decorated with real gold, and handcrafted. It had cost him nearly forty-thousand dollars for a set of fucking plates and bowls.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

It is repeatedly on a loop in his head, glares at the items on the dinner table like they’re mocking him, and he has no wits about himself before he’s taking one of the beautiful bowls and throwing it against the wall as hard as possible.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

By the time he’s done, his chest is heaving, and his face is red. 

When reality starts to set back in, every single item from the set is destroyed on the floor, the wall’s paint chipped from where he’d hurled them.

He was so fucked up.

-

Harry couldn’t help but relieve the feelings of that nasty flashback. He couldn’t believe that he had been at that point in his life - not when he had the most all-consuming, amazing in every single way woman laying next to him in his bed.

YN had shown Harry that he had never been broken, he had just been waiting. 

She was his soulmate and he had been waiting for her since forever. He truly believed that as he looked at the girl next to him with enough emotion his heart might burst.

She was just...everything.

YN was so fucking funny - the funniest person Harry had ever met. She was loving in a way that made you feel like you belonged. Compassionate in a way that makes you want to be more selfless yourself. Intelligent enough that it was breathtaking and unreal - and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

She was uncaring of who Harry was - in the most perfect way. 

Money wasn’t a personality trait that she defined him with. She loved him for who he was at the bare basics, stripped away from his public life.

She was confident in a way that girls rarely were. 

Bared face and more beautiful than the highest-paid models. 

Her body was her own, embracing every curve and inch of it without any shame. Let herself be authentic in front of Harry which made him feel like he had won a secret lottery.

Right now, she was fast asleep next to him in bed after stuffing herself full of oreos that she was dunking in milk. She ignored Harry’s looks of disgust at the soggy cookies and munched away happily which made him happy in turn.

She still had a dark crumb on the corner of her puffy lips, her mouth parted just the slightest amount, and her face smushed halfway into the pillow. 

The shirt she had on was so oversized she was swimming in it and a pair of soft pink cheeky underwear.

Currently, she was the farthest thing from graceful and Harry loved that so fucking much. 

As they lay mere days away from their wedding, remembering that nasty flashback, he can’t help but remember their first date and how he had known from them that he had finally found a spark, a connection to another human being.

--

Harry cannot remember the last time he had been nervous. 

Maybe back in his teenage years? If that. 

It was an unsettling feeling that was currently pooling in the pit of his stomach as he changed his outfit for the third time before finally being somewhat satisfied with the suit he had picked out - tighter black jeans, black button-up, black blazer - couldn’t go wrong there. ***

YN had texted him asking what she should wear for their first date when Harry told her he was going to keep it simple and take her to a restaurant.

He had to dress nice, it was an expensive restaurant that he had not taken any other dates to before, it was right outside of London - going towards the countryside with a beautiful view of a meadow and stream.

When he had arrived in front of her apartment, well he had never been on this side of town, and it quite frankly looked like the roof of her building was about to collapse at any minute. It was rough to say the least.

Harry had picked out a car he thought would impress her. He remembered her saying the doors of his Lamborghini were stupid so he picked a car with normal doors this time. It was his new Audi Quattro that had cost him upwards of 170,000 pounds. ***

YN had popped out of the front door, her face didn’t read impressed when she saw the car like he had hoped. It was interesting before YN, he did not care whether or not his dates were impressed by him - now he craved it.

She looked extraordinary in a form fitting silky black dress that hugged every single curve of her body perfectly while accentuating them at the same time. Minimal makeup, loose waves, and simple high heels - it was like a dream that he was taking this girl out on a date. ***

When she slips into the passenger seat, the smell of her floral yet cinnamon perfume makes the car smell heavenly, she looks over at him and says, “You didn’t even come open the door for me. We’re off to a bad start, Harry.”

His heart sinks, fuck - he had been blindsided by her beauty that he wasn’t even being a proper gentleman, “M’so sorry, I wa-”

She chirps out a tender laugh, patting his arm, “You’re face, oh my god. I was just fucking with you.”

Harry’s frown turns into a pout, “S’not nice, pet.”

YN shrugs before a bit self-consciously adjusting the fabric around her midsection, “Erm, I hope this outfit is nice enough? It’s really the only semi-decent thing I own.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’look absolutely stunning. I can’t even believe y’real to be honest, so fuckin’ pretty.”

YN gives him a shy, unsure smile but he can tell she’s preening at the compliment internally (which she totally is).

The restaurant is one of the nicest in England, let alone London. 

There wasn’t even a menu, they just served eight courses over a few hours time by servers in suits with bowties on. 

YN had never felt more out of place.

As they sat down, Harry was proud that he was able to show off his abilities for a good date, YN was looking around nervously before looking up at the server and saying, “We didn’t get menus yet.”

The man gives her a humorous expression before telling her, “We don’t do menus here, miss. Your date is a regular, I am sure he can fill you in. However, we are starting off with a Cabernet from 2001 imported from Napa, California.”

As he pours the wine into their sparkling glasses, she asks unknowingly, “I don’t really like wine. Is there any way I could get a Coke?”

Harry frowns when the server laughs meanly at her, “Ma’am this isn’t McDonald’s. We do not carry soda. I can provide you with water, if you so wish.”

Harry can’t help but snap at the waiter, “Oi, she’s never been here before. Lay off with the attitude alright?”

“My apologies, Mr. Styles,” He murmurs obediently before finishing the pouring off the whine and retreating from the table.

YN is trying to hide how uncomfortable she is but it is still obvious with how she fidgets in her seat, doesn’t quite know what to do with her hands as she doesn’t even bother to reach towards the wine glass.

“This isn’t really your scene, is it?” Harry murmurs, embarrassment with his failure to impress her with an expensive car and dinner. 

It was falling flat and it was the only thing he knew how to do - flaunt his wealth, everyone else had always been impressed.

“No, it isn’t,” She agrees quietly, fingers folding the edges of the cloth napkin to keep her anxiousness directed somewhere, “I appreciate this, er, dinner. I thought we were going to go somewhere like Mary’s.”

Mary’s was a restaurant that was considered ‘nice’ to the commoners in the city. It was a bit more expensive than a pub and the attire was a bit fancier than if you were going out to a bar. 

For someone like Harry, that was not considered a fancy restaurant. 

However, YN was not him and this was not something that she had ever been accustomed to. He now definitely felt like an idiot.

It’s made even worse when a massive plate is put in front of each of them. 

The plate is huge but the dish is merely one scallop with a lemon sauce and sprinkle of parsley on top. YN can’t even try to hide her confusion at the food.

 “I’ve mucked this date up,” Harry sighs, nearly thirty minutes into the actual date. 

YN had taken a small bite of the scallop before setting down her fork and not touching it again - it tasted like dirty feet. Did rich people like that taste?

She decides not to answer directly, “I already know you have money. It doesn’t ‘wow’ me. I was hoping for a fun date, this is….nice but quite truthfully, not for me. I prefer a pub or bowling - this feels more like a business meeting.”

Harry usually doesn’t have dates that are this honest with him. 

He feels embarrassed but he really did appreciate her honesty. He should have known to do something different than this but he was comfortable with his normal pattern.

“Can we get out of here?” YN asks, placing the napkin back on the table and gathering up her small purse to swing over her shoulder.

He feels defeated as he nods, paying for the meal in full as he accepts that he’s fucked up the date beyond repair by being an arrogant, ignorant asshole who doesn’t truly know how to talk to a girl he likes.

It’s quiet as he starts the car and pulls back onto the road, he startles a bit when YN points to a glowing sign of a golden arch and demands, “Go there.”

With a bit of confusion, Harry pulls into the McDonald’s parking lot and then to the drive-thru as she motions for him to do so. 

God, he hasn’t been to a fast food joint in years now if he was being honest.

When they pull up to the screen, YN leans across and shoots out their food order with ease before sitting back with a smug smile, “We’re going to have a date my way.”

Harry sighs with relief when he realizes the date isn’t over - but really just beginning. They sit and chat in the parking lot. He is thoroughly impressed when YN manages a box of nuggets, a fry, and a milkshake without shame.

Not like she should be shameful - just usually on dates women were hesitant to actually eat and instead picked carefully at their food instead. Their conversation in the car is bright, at some points deep and meaningful, but refreshing. It made him feel young again.

After they finished eating, she’s ordering him to drive a bit further out into the country where he can’t help but make the joke, “Are y’taking me somewhere to kill me?” YN smiles happily with a wide grin, “You’ll just have to wait to see.”

It ends up being a lake. A beautiful body of water that was surrounded by trees that were being reflected into the ripples with the light of the moon. The only sounds were of crickets chirping and the light lapping of the water against the small shore. ***

“I used to come here a lot in the summer in high school,” YN murmurs as Harry takes in the scenery of everything. It had been so long since he had appreciated nature - not the bright clear waters in the tropics but something like this.

“S’beautiful,” Harry replies, can’t help but observe this girl he’s infatuated beauty in the moonlight. 

Her skin looks like it’s glowing, the moon sparkling off the twinkle of her iries, and she just looked...ethereal. Like she belonged in the beauty of the wilderness.

He couldn’t believe his eyes - had to blink harshly a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it when she pulls the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders and shimmy the garment down her body until she’s left in a delicate lace bra and cheeky pair of underwear.

Harry, always the gentleman, keeps his eyes (with effort) on her face. Unsure of what is going on in her mind before she turns around with a little run and dives headfirst into the deep waters before popping back up and giggling, “Jump in!”

She’s just so...carefree, adventurous. Harry hadn’t felt free in fucking years.

It has him shucking out of all of his clothing, just down to his tight black briefs before he’s diving in, right next to her, and feeling around. He wraps his hand around her ankle to teasingly tug her under with him before they both surface.

As they wad in the water, YN swims over to him, and wraps her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Her soaking wet hair was dripping and he was breathing heavy, feeling his ribcage expand against her soft tummy.

She murmurs quietly over the light lapping over the water, “You haven’t even looked at me once.”

Harry swallows, feeling like a schoolboy again, “I...I didn’t want to without permission.”

“I want you to look at me,” YN replies, letting her nose nudge his and her eyes searching into his nervous ones. 

He nods, closing his eyes when he feels her lips brush his, letting his large palms grip at her sides and pull her closer to his chest. Their lips not breaking when his hands begin to explore the intricate, plush curves of her body.

They don’t do anything else, don’t go any further but he groaning when she traces her fingertips down his muscular, defined abs and thumb rubbing over the trail of light hair leading into his briefs.

After a swim, filled with splashing and dunking, they retired to lay in the grass. Both of their backs, looking up at the clear night sky, moon full and stars glittering against the stark darkness that surrounds it.

YN wriggle until she’s tucked into his side, hand running up and down his chest, as she says, “I’m sorry your date didn’t go as planned. I ruined it.”

“Y’didn’t ruin anything. I...I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” Harry admits as he gives off an embarrassed laugh, “I..I’m a little bit scared, to be honest.”

“Scared? Of what?” YN asks, lips pressing against a tattoo on his bare shoulder.

“Because I already am falling for you,” Harry utters, heart racing and his eyes glued upwards and pointedly not wanting to see her interaction.

“That’s a relief.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “A relief?”

“Yeah, I would say. I’m falling too,” YN whispers before leaning up to connect their lips once more as the moon rises further in the sky and the crickets sing a little louder. They lay like that for a very long time.

Harry went home that night for the first time not feeling the empty weight of his loneliness, instead he feel asleep imagining the beautiful, spontaneous girl next to him in his bed.

--

It wasn’t going to be the wedding everyone expected for The Harry Styles. **

There was not many invites set out for this event. It wasn’t the wedding of the century or the most expensive wedding of the decade.

Harry would have let his wife-to-be have this day however she wanted without complaint but could say he was very happy that it was going to a be a low-key event. It was going to be some of YN’s family, though she didn’t have much, and Harry’s extended family. No one from work or business. Just family.

They had just gotten finished with the rehearsal dinner, the couple being ordered to separate rooms for the final night before they were married. It was tradition. 

Harry had walked YN to her hotel room, they were staying at the venue, and pressed her up against the door. His hand coming to weave into her meticulously curled hair and cupping the back of her head, bring her mouth to his.

He wastes no time in letting his tongue find hers, hips coming to press her further back against the aged wood, and his teeth nipping roughly at her plump bottom lip, “Baby, y’gonna be m’wife tomorrow.”

YN’s eyes twinkle up at him like they did during their first date, “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

His fiance laughs kindly as he gets a bit watery eyed, her thumb coming to swipe under his eye, she jokes, “Are you regretting proposing now?”

“Just never knew I could be this happy,” He murmurs against her lips, can’t help but reach around to grip a generous amount of her backside and pulling her flush against him where he’s hardening quickly.

“Mm, down boy. You don’t get the goods until tomorrow,” YN scolds, hand wrapping around his wrist and squeaking when he squeezes harder to get the point across - how much he wants her, all the fucking time.

“Want it now, pet,” Harry whines lowly, grinding his hips forward into her, “Give it t’me, y’mouth, y’cun-”

“Alright lovebirds! Separate now!” Gemma barks to interrupt with the laughter of their childhood friend Chloe.

They pull Harry by the back of the shirt and push him forward towards his room, Gemma smiles back at YN, “Make him put a ring on it before you give it to him!”

“Gem!” Harry scolds with a whine, giving his fiance puppy dog eyes and a pouted bottom lip, “Baby, don’t let them take me!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you!” YN shouts back, waving and smiling to herself as she opens up the door to her room and then locking it after she steps in. It feels weird being in a hotel room without him but she was a bit sweaty and her nerves were wiry so she decided a nice bath would be a good idea.

-

It’s past two in the morning and she was no less ready to find sleep. The worries of whether everything will be set up properly, if she’ll stutter during her vows, there were just so many things that could go wrong.

Life didn’t even seem real at this moment. 

She was marrying her husband at an amazing castle on the coast of italy with family to surround them in love. She had the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect partner. ***

She had never had it easy. Never thought she would deserve something like this. Harry had made her feel worthy of all this, they deserved to have a happy ever after. 

When it hits three in the morning, she can’t stand the quiet of the italian countryside anymore, and is swinging her legs over the bed. She pockets the keycard Harry gave her earlier in the day in her cotton shorts before sneaking out of her room.

After she taps the card to the sensor, the large oak doorknob clicks, she slips in and closes the door as silently as possible. YN steps in to the room, Harry's asleep in his bed on his stomach, face smushed into the pillow.

Harry’s facial expression and body language while he was awake was so severe, serious, intimidating. In sleep, his face was lax and his limbs loose. He looked more boyish when he was dreaming.

YN’s heart aches at how much she loves him, pulling the covers up, and crawling under them until she’s jostling him unintentionally, waking him from his light sleep with a mumble, “Baby, y’okay? Wha’s wrong? Y’alright?”

She giggles at his dazy panic, “I just missed you.”

“Mmm,” Harry agrees, pulling her all the way down and rolling on top of her, “Missed y’more.”

“You’re like a toaster!” YN squeals as he’s encompasses her, laying on her with his weight. His lips finding her pulse point and gently sucking. He was barely awake and he still couldn’t stop himself from her finding comfort in her body.

“I’m warmin’ y’up,” Harry growls against her neck before giving her a lick which has her giggling even more and pushing him off until he falls on his back and she’s swing her legs over his waist, straddling him.

“Y’breakin’ the tradition, m’heart.”

YN shrugs, humming while he palms at her belly, and she (much to his disappointment) ignores where he’s hard and waiting for her.

“I want t’sleep with you,” She pleas sheepishly, leaning all the way over to connect their lips in a quickie peck before she’s moving off of him and into his side.

“Never say no to you, y’know that, dovie,” Harry replies as if it’s obvious (it is).

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” YN whispers into the dark, like it’s a secret just between the two.

Harry nuzzles his nose against her temple, “Never wanted anythin’ more than I want you.”

YN can’t help but sniffle softly, overwhelmed with emotion and love, “You’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

“You saved me. You saved me from myself, from where I was going. You gave me hope, feeling again. Y’are m’heart, it fuckin’ beats for you.”

It may not be tradition but YN wouldn’t of had it any other way, sleeping in a magnificent castle on the ethereal coast of Italy in a classic hotel room, and the excitement of their wedding rumbling in both of their stomachs.

--

“You sneaky bastards!” Bethany screeches, door flinging open with Gemma in tow as they intrude into Harry’s room - finding the couple curled up under the covers with Harry spooning YN with his face tucked into her hair.

“Fuck off,” Harry groans, pulling his fiance closer into his chest as she wriggles awake and whimpers lowly, “Mornin’ lovie.”

“Out out!” Gemma shoos, pulling the covers off of them and the sisters showing no mercy while they yank YN out of the bed and titter about how she needs to start getting ready, no time for cuddles, breaking traditions.

“Bring her back!” He whines childishly, hurling a pillow at his sister’s retreating back as they guide YN back to her own room.

“You’ll see her in a few hours!” Gemma shouts back before slamming the hotel room door and leaving Harry to doze off for just a few more minutes.

-

Hair and makeup went fast. 

It was getting closer and closer to actually walking down the aisle towards her soon-to-be life partner and she’s never felt more nervous.

Rosemary and Bethany were all rushing around - attempting to get ready in the midst of getting the bride ready.

YN didn’t want to look like a doll or have any intense makeup. It was a soft champagne smokey eye with dewy skin and a glowing highlight. A nice lip with a bit of glittering gloss.

Her hair was in big, loose curls that cascaded down her back with the front pulled off of her face. A real white flower holding it back.

Then it was the dress. She was anxious about whether Harry would like it or not. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to wear - a massive ball gown, a form-fitting mermaid, or something less over-the-top?

It was a show-stopper that had her memorized when she had first seen it - could automatically imagined herself getting married in Italy with this on her body.

It was also one of the only times she didn’t even care about the price tag - she knew this was it. Yes, it was absurd to spend fifty thousand pounds on a dress but it was the one time she took advantage of Harry’s wealth.

It was flowy, reminding her of the soft waves that lapped at the coast of the italian beaches. It was sophisticated, classy with a sharp starch white that billowed into a dreamlike beauty.

What had made her fall in love was the sheer, detailed sleeves that gave the dress more of a vintage, glamour appearance than the modern tight-fit, overly sexy gowns that most brides wore nowawadays. ***

The train was long and sleek. It would trail beautifully down the aisle before being bustled for the reception. It made her feel confident in a way that an item of clothing next had made her feel before.

“Your tits look amazing,” Bethany compliments before giggling when their grandmum pinches her arm for her crude language.

YN couldn’t find it in her to laugh. She felt like her voice was stuck in her throat and it wasn’t moving. 

It started to feel real.

The fact that Harry had proposed, had planned a wedding with her, that he was agreeing to marrying her today.

It was starting to scare her - no, not cold feet but anxiety that he would realize that he could do better than the lowly waitress.

Now, on a normal day, she wouldn’t be having these irrational thoughts. Today was different and it felt too good to be true.

Rosemary and Bethany sense the tension in the room, rub her shoulders, and respect her wishes when she asked for a moment alone.

YN debates picking up her phone, knowing he was busy with his bigger side of the family in the groom’s suite.

She finds herself picking up her mobile, dialing his number, and waiting with bated breath for his syrupy, warm voice to pour through the speaker.

“Everythin’ okay?” He answers, she can hear Anne and Gemma tittering about in the background, yelling at him to get a move on.

“I’m scared,” YN whispers, she holds back her tears because the last thing she wanted to do was ruin her meticulous makeup.

“Leavin’ me at the altar?” Harry jokes lowly, stepping away from prying ears.

YN giggles at his teasing tone, “Never. I…I feel like this is all too good to be true. Like it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up.”

Harry huffs, “Sweetheart. Y’my soulmate, if y’wake up - I’m right there with you, okay? God, if anyone is dreamin’ it’s me. I get t’marry the most beautiful, intelligent -“

Gemma’s voice interrupts him, “You already seduced her into marrying you! We don’t have time for this sweet talk!”

The line goes dead but YN feels much better now.

—

Rosemary was going to be the one walking her down the aisle to her new husband. It didn’t feel right to have anyone else do it as she was the one who raised her into the strong, independent woman she was today.

YN knew she wanted to have an outside wedding. 

What would be more perfect than a cool evening in Italy? It was what she had dreamed about since she was little without the idea that it would ever happen.

The weather was absolutely perfect. There was a slight warm breeze that would keep the guests from being overheated, the sun was peeking in and out of vibrant white clouds that complimented the blue sky.

She knew exactly where Harry would be standing. 

Underneath a beautiful, dated archway with intricate designs about. 

The old material had lovingly grown luscious ivy that kissed the walls in a swirling, natural design. 

YN would never forget how beautiful that ivy had looked on her wedding day, encompassing the magnificent that was her soon-to-be husband.***

The venue was open, airy but still gave off an intimacy. There weren't many rows of chairs because not many were invited to share in such an ethereal experience where soulmates have found each other and were announcing their commitment to the world.

“Are you ready, my daughter?” Her grandmother had asked quietly as they lined up behind the expansive, old brick wall that hides them from the rest of the ceremony and crowd. She could hear the whispering as people took their seats.

YN nods, her vocal cords refusing to cooperate as she imagines Harry just as nervous on the opposite side with his family. 

When the twinkling, traditional music begins from the small orchestra off to the side - the realization hits her - it is actually happening, right now.

Bethany puts her bouquet in front of her, giving one last meaningful smile at her sister before she takes her cue to turn the corner and begins her walk down the aisle. 

It meant Harry was up there, watching as she was about to appear.

Then the orchestra’s melody became louder, more grand in the signaling for the guests to stand and turned toward the back of the room - awaiting the bride’s entrance to the ceremony. 

Rosemary takes the initiative to hook their arms and guide her past the wall.

YN clutches onto her own flowers as if it’s her lifeline. ***

Every fear, insecurity, moment of self-doubt dissipates when her eyes connect to Harry’s. There is no longer a doubt in her mind that she wasn’t enough. It was a deep, unbreakable stare as Harry’s mouth parts in a gasp of awe.

He was in a suit that was undeniably him. It displayed how fucking regal he was, how it looked like he was handcrafted into the italian design, how it fit him just perfectly.

It wasn’t a normal tuxedo. It was a perfectly tailored, custom (of course) Gucci suit that excentuate his broad shoulders and the nip of his narrow hips *** ***. 

YN can’t even hear the noise of the guests - whispering about how beautiful she looks.

All she can see is her future husband, who swallows harshly as an unexpected sob wracks through his chest at the sight of his bride.

The guests can’t help but look with wide eyes as the man they know - who they’ve barely ever seen smile, let alone cry, cannot control his emotions.

Gemma, who was his ‘best man’ which they deemed ‘best woman’, rubs his back soothingly with a watery smile herself at seeing her brother so estastatic as he looks at the woman of his dreams.

Harry rubs his eyes before meeting hers again.

YN is holding back her own tears as she reaches the end of the aisle.

In tradition as old as time, Harry steps forward and Rosemary passes her hand over to him in a signal that she trusts him to take care of the girl she’s spent meticulous time raising and cultivating into the person she is today.

“I trust you to take care of my girl, she is now yours,” Rosemary tells Harry, her tone is calm and full of emotion as she allows Harry to lean over to kiss her cheek softly.

Harry nods, his usually stable voice shaky as he replies, “I promise, I’ll take care of her until the day I die.”

Rosemary nods before patting his cheek and finding her seat in the audience.

When they are finally standing face-to-face, YN reaches over to thumb off a stray tear that was sliding down his cheek before he turns his head to kiss her thumb then kissing her palm. 

Harry didn’t even acknowledge that there was anyone else watching - it was just him and her.

“Y’look breathtaking, can’t believe y’mine,” Harry murmurs trembling, his chest moving faster than usual and it felt like it was nearly impossible for him to catch his breath as he looked at the woman in front of him.

When it comes to the vows, Bethany hands over her small piece of paper that she had scribbled onto and scratched out multiple times - never quite able to get the wording just right and she says just that.

“I couldn’t find the right words to explain my love for you,” She starts, voice raspy as she looks up to see Harry watching her raptly, eyes intense and only focused on her.

“And maybe there aren’t even words to explain it because nothing felt like enough. It is how I feel a lot of the time with you. I’ll never have enough of you because you’re all-consuming to me. I have never felt happiness like I have with you.”

YN is trying to stifle her tears as she continues, Harry reaches out to rub her arm in reassurance then he lightly brushes over the new necklace he had gifted her, “You’re by far the most complex, closed-off person I have ever met. I feel like you’ve allowed me to crack the code and once I did, I wasn’t disappointed. I’ve cracked my own code, you see.”

“The code to explaining my feelings for you will come with my dedication, love, loyalty to be your wife for the rest of our lives.”

Harry can’t help what he does next despite it not falling in line at the ceremony.

His hands come up to cup her jaw and he sears his lips to hers, kissing her with all the passion and emotion he cannot seem to keep in any longer. It’s too much, has to show her in that moment how much he loves her.

A few of his uncles whistle from the crowd as their wives smack their chests in warning.

YN giggles, returning the kiss before pushing him off. 

The look in his eyes is one she knows extremely well - it sends shivers down her spine and makes her hair stand on end -, the stare down of lust and want.

“Mr. Styles,” The officiant redirects, nodding towards the piece of paper he has in his hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry mumbles, unraveling the wrinkled notecard he had tucked in his inner suit pocket.

“I knew I was in love with you the moment you spilled that drink on me and undressed me in that dodgy employee bathroom,” Harry says with full sincerity, smirking at YN’s blush when he brings up the way they met.

“I tried to talk myself out of it. It was impossible to fall in love in mere minutes of meeting someone but it was the truth. I knew after our first date that I wanted y’to be m’wife. I knew after the second that I wanted y’to be the mother of my babies one day. And by the third date, I was planning on buying you a ring.”

“It sounds insane because it is. I’ve never been an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, hopeful person before you. You made me throw all that out of the window, you make me feel alive, and when I tell you that you saved me. You saved me, m’love.”

“There is a lot of uncertainty in this world but I can tell you one thing that is absolutely fuckin’ certain -”

“Harry,” YN hisses with an eye-roll at his crude language.

“The one thing that is absolutely certain in this world is that I will always love you, always take care of you, and always do everythin’ in m’power to make you happy.”

The guests in the chairs are quite speechless. 

They’d never heard such passionate, meaningful vows from a couple. 

This was not what they were expecting of Harry who had never once put his heart on his sleeve and right now he’d laid it all out on the table.

--

“YN LN, do you agree to take Harry Edward Styles as your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant asks, voice ringing against the walls of the castle.

YN has to take a big breath before she replies in a strong, firm voice as her eyes bore into Harry’s, “I do.”

“Harry Edward Styles, do you agree to take YN MN LN as your wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant repeats.

Harry, in ever typical fashion, in his loud, booming voice replies, “Of course I fuckin’ do.”

The guests in the audience laugh lightly as the officiant states, “I now announce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. You may now kiss your bride.”

It doesn’t take more than a second for Harry to step forward, grip her face and pull her in for a kiss, it doesn’t matter that their family is there to him as he licks into her mouth which is bordering on obscene before YN brings it back to a softer, more appropriate one.

He whispers against his lips, barely audible, “Can’t believe y’my fucking wife, m’fucking heart.”

--

As people are moving towards the reception area, Harry manages to find a secluded area of the outside gardens where there is no one in sight.

“Baby, baby, y’married me,” Harry is nearly chanting, like he’s in disbelief, at the same time he’s cornering his new bride up against the brick wall with his mouth trailing sloppy wet kisses down her shoulder.

“Mmm, it was everything I ever imagined, it was so beautiful. Everything I had imagined for our day,” YN replies blissfully, hands running carefully through his meticulously styled hair.

When he bends down and lifts up the bottom of her dress, she giggles when he ducks his head underneath all the tulle and fabric, finding a very skimpy pair of white lace panties that are supposed to be saved for later.

“Harry,” YN scolds half-heartedly, it would only take one person to find them in this undeniable inappropriate situation but she willingly let him push her further against the brick and take one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Baby, these fuckin’ panties,” He groans, muffled by the barrier of the heavy fabric, and she hisses when pulls them down to the thick of her thighs and his mouths finds her center within moments.

“Fu-fuck,” She hisses, trying to keep her moans down as he wastes no time in pushing in two thick fingers to curve towards her front as his tongue laps quickly and sloppily on her clit until it feels like she’s about to explode.

“S’right, fuckin’ m’cunt. I have it f’the rest of my life, found the best one,” Harry mutters against her wet skin, almost to himself like he can’t even believe the words, before he’s back to speeding up his fingers to match the rhythm of his mouth until she’s quivering for a whole other reason now.

It takes a few minutes for Harry to calm himself down enough to be able to go into the reception, he tells YN that he can’t even look at her right now because if he does he’ll be perpetually hard throughout the whole thing.

--

The reception is more of a dinner than a party. 

Fairy lights strung above the two long tables where decadent, mouth-watering food was served with the orchestra playing light, melodic music in the background. ***

It was perfect. 

Their family drank, laughed, ate, and were merry. 

Everyone was basking in each other’s company, congratulating the new couple, and enjoying all the beauty that was surrounding them at the castle. 

There is not much more to say than that. 

--

The honeymoon suite was located on one of the highest floors of the castle, away from all of the other wedding guests and staff.

YN was sure it was beautiful but from the moment she was carried over the threshold, she didn’t see anything but her new husband - he was blinding in his beauty. His skin was glowing, a slight sheen of sweat from the reception, and the still warm bite in the breeze. ***

“Sweetheart, baby. Please let m’undress you, y’my wife,” Harry pleas softly, his hands are everywhere - her face, her shoulders, hips - continuously wandering as if it’s impossible to find one place to settle.

“Please, c’mon. I need you, H,” She agrees, letting him take down the zipper on the side of her gown.

The expensive garment discarded on the floor in a pool of fabric as he fully takes in her lingerie set. ***

“Fuck me, darlin’,” Harry chuckles in amazement, fingertips tracing over the delicate lace that was stitched by Alessandro Michele himself for the bride, "Y’body is a god damn dream, look at you. - fuck.”

“Please,” His wife whimpers, voice desperate as his light and careful touches are no longer enough. 

She needs him close, she needs her husband.

“Okay, okay,” He simpers, moving her back until he can have her right where he wants her, on her back in the middle of the massive, blanket-ridden bed - her white lingerie standing out against the dark duvet.

Harry had always imagined this night. 

To have someone laid out underneath him. 

No rush, no urgency but to truly, physically show that person through touch that you love them.

He starts near her collarbone, feathery heated kisses that warm her skin as she welcomes him with heavy weight on top of her so eager he wasn’t even undressed yet.

When his mouth finds her nipples through the sheer fabric, she pushes her chest up in encouragement as he bites at the nubs with sharp but careful teeth that wet the fabric.

“It feels so good, baby,” YN mewls, letting him nip and suck for a moment before pushing him up until he’s rid of every inch of fabric that had been covering his body.

“M’always gonna make y’feel good. I’ll fuck you wherever, wehenver cause you’re m’wife,” Harry grunts, impatiently reaching behind to unclasp the corset until her breasts spill free and jiggle in a way that makes his mouth water.

“Wait, wait,” YN puts a hand to his cheek when he already has his mouth darting out to lap at her hardened nipple.

“Don’t make me wait, m’heart,” Harry grumbles with a furrowed brow, his hand still unable to stop from reaching up to palm at her full breasts, thumbs rolling the nipples as he stares fiercely up at her.

“You know how you got me a present?” YN murmurs, biting back a whimper when a zip of electricity shoots from her nipple down to where she’s already dripping for him, “I got you something too.”

Harry’s face relaxes, it’s like he finds his grounding again, “Baby, didn’t need t’get me anythin’. Y’the best fuckin’ gift I could have gotten. Does look beautiful sittin’ between y’tits though.”

His new wife giggles, “Well I really hope you like mine….it’s non-refundable.”

He looks at her with confusion even more so when she wriggles down her panties and flips on her belly with her arms resting under chin.

Of course, Harry finds it immediately and she can tell by the deep, pleased growl he emits from the back of his throat, “You fuckin’ didn’t.”

“I did.”

It was his name, small and cursive right on her bum cheek. 

After they got engaged, he went out and got her name tattooed on his pec - much to her dismay. 

She had never talked about returning the favor and had kept it the ultimate surprise.

“I think I almost just came from this,” Harry rasps, his fingers tracing the small ink over and over in awe, “Baby, y’put m’name on your bum. It makes y’look like my property, sweetheart.”

“I am yours,” YN giggles, yelping when she feels his teeth graze the sensitive skin before he’s suckling and licking at his name - can’t take his eyes off the beauty of her.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are,” He agrees whole-heartedly, his hands calming to cup and palm at her cheeks as he fawns over his wedding present, “This is the best present I’d ever fuckin’ received, fuck - never goin’ to get over this.”

He doesn’t want to look away from the tattoo but knows how he wants to fuck his wife for the first time so he flips her onto her back once again, lips finding hers. 

She whispers, hand wrapping around his cock, “Still have to pay you back for earlier.”

“No blowies tonight, pet. We’re goin’ to do it the right way, m’gonna make love to you,” Harry murmurs, his lips finding hers as he bats her hand away to grasp at his thick base. He teases the sensitive head over her clit and entrance a few times before slowly sinking in.

“Ohh, been ready for you all day. You looked like a fucking wet dream standing at the alter, waiting for me,” YN sighs happily, wriggling her hips to adjust a bit before she spreads her legs and lets Harry rest in between them, “Ever since I saw you in the suit, I’ve been waiting.”

“Yeah, baby? I can tell, y’so wet, warm f’me,” Harry praises, his movements are slow and unrushed, their hips meeting gently as he pushes in each time with care, “Can’t believe y’gonna let me have this for the rest of m’life.”

“I love you so so much,” She utters breathlessly as he continues to make her feel so fucking full - emotionally and physically, “Best husband ever, can’t believe it.”

Harry chuckles tenderly, “Baby, I need y’to come soon. I’m so close, never come this quick. The thought of y’being my wife is making it impossible to last then with the tatto-”

YN soothes his hair in understanding, pushing up to meet their lips and allow their tongues to dance as he lifts her thigh against his hip to thrust in with a bit more force. His thumb comes to her clit to spur her along which doesn’t take much with how aroused she’s been all day.

Harry follows right after, much to his embarrassment of his lack of stamina but can you blame him? He has the hottest fucking wife on the planet.

“Round two?” YN smirks as he leans down to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. She knows the night has just begun.

“Mmm,” He agrees instantly, “Now that we made love, m’gonna fuck y’from behind so I can watch my name jiggle on your arse.”

And that’s what he does. It takes nearly no rebound time, flips her on her belly again to gaze and worship his name as he fills out in no time again. His fingers occasionally dip back between her thighs to tease at her entrance before he swipes her own wetness on the tattoo to lick it off.

She’s tired, exhausted from the events of the day but wants to reach that last orgasm before sleep overtakes them. 

On her hands and knees, Harry doesn’t pound into her like he normally would. 

Instead, he eases back in with eyes darting between his wedding present and where they’re connecting, his thumb diligently rubbing hard and steady circle on her nerves.

“C’mon wifey, need y’to not be stubborn,” Harry goads, feeling his release coming again - he pinches her clit with just enough pressure that has her whining before Harry has to hold her up by the waist as she quivers.

It has him finishing right after with a gentle smack to her bumcheek, the skin already tender and sore from all of his attention on the spot as it was.

“I loved your vows,” YN murmurs against his chest. He had wrapped her up in one of the plush blankets and he had pulled on a tight pair of briefs and they were laying on a lounge chair on the blacony under the italian stars.

“I loved yours just as much, y’did crack the code m’love ‘cause now I’m yours forever,” Harry rumbles, his voice raspy with drowsiness.

Little did they know that in a few short years, they would be back under these italian stars with knowledge that they were growing a little product of their love in her belly.

A litte baby named Ivy, just like the beautiful, lucious nature that had decorated the place in magneificent as they spoke vows - dedicating their lives to each other.

if you’ve ask to be on my taglist and you’re not here - please check your settings because i’ve tried to add you and it didn’t work.

taglist babies (thank you): @dioc4ne @hazgoldenstyles @harrysdimple05 @wonwooen @ficnarry @leeroysdancer @harrysloveheart @harryscherrysugar @pradastardust @rish-haz @wildcstdrexms @evanstylestan @wisetoadbonkbiscuit @meredithhuntt @tpwkvictoria @lovely-him @haymix @eiffelmezarry @pilgrim-harry @soullessbabee @afterglowstyles @tulsasjesus @elenagilbert01 @meh–mood @pretty-pop-princess-hs @msolbesg @localfalsegodstan @evanjh @i-just-like-fanfics @harrys-hs-gf @lightsupdoyouknowwhoyouare @afterglcwswift @harrystyles-tpwk @amyvandijk @godilovetheenglishx @harrys-cherrry @theprofessionalfanby @your–sweetest–downfall @la-cey @bdbtchdir @killerqueencapstan @elizabeth23567 @camflowervol6 @its-a-finee-line @rish-haz @solonelytobe @nav1234 @harrynamjoon @hopefullimaginer123 @westallenhes @awesomebooklover17 @will-be-a-fineline @vasilikir5 @your–sweetest–downfall @pretty-pop-princess-hs @harrynamjoon @harrypinks @ivyirenehoax @harryspink @sunsetcurve-h @goldenstylesh @mouthfulloftoothpastehs @hello-34583 @prettylovley @nicolecarsley @lamariettes @imavirginhoe @unknown7549 @mellamolayla @kiwitsayedsugar @hopefullimaginer123 @harrysmatcha @weaslettesstuff @saintsmotels @hi-yekaterina @aubreyfineline @harrysgoldenbum @ebstylesx @goldeng1rl8 @tnqueen @percysaidnever @bebecalpal

[dcbbw]

1000 Words

Merry Christmas, tumblrs!

This story was inspired by an ask from @peonierose regarding sending wrong pictures to the wrong number. This answer is definitely not what anyone asked for and probably doesn’t want, except maybe three mutuals. I honestly couldn’t make up my mind which Liam x Riley to use, so chose three where this situation would be a very real possibility.

Tis the season and all that, so set the drabbles at Christmastime. This fic is not beta’d and barely edited/proofed; forgive me all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors. MS Word Editor rates me 98% error-free for this tale.

Thank you to all who will read this! Your likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated far more than you know.

Rating this M for Mature (adult themes)

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Song inspos will appear next to pairings/universes.

Word Count: 4,396

Riam (song inspo: hospital beach, Cottonwood Firing Squad)

Queen Riley of Cordonia impatiently pulled her Santa hat forward as she admired the wrapping on her last Christmas gift to her husband when Mara, her personal guard, stuck her head through the doorway of the Valtorian Great House’s formal dining room.

Mara’s eyes grew wide at the pile of cheerfully wrapped boxes adorned with ribbons and bows.

“I thought you said you didn’t know what to get His Majesty?” the guard demanded, irritation and astonishment in her tone.

“I DIDN’T!” Riley retorted. “If I did, there wouldn’t be these many gifts!”

Every year of their marriage, the Queen lamented each Christmas over what to get the man who literally had everything. Liam was a KING, for crying out loud.

This year, she purchased socks and neckties from Saville Row on behalf of their unborn sons. Frac was giving his father a dozen, brightly colored plaid socks with the Savile Row insignia embroidered on them; Fric’s present was an assortment of silk ties: paisley, plaid, novelty, and three in somber, solid colors.

Yes, Liam was a father, but he was still royal.

Riley was giving her husband three new custom-made suits, the newest iPhone, a Jaguar F-Pace SUV in black with gray interior, and with Lord Neville’s assistance, had converted one of the empty suites in their living quarters into an indoor golf course.

Riley was convinced Neville had overcharged her.  The golf clubs alone had set her back a little over $16,000. 00 in USD.

But still, she felt something was missing. She wanted to give her husband a gift that was personal, intimate … just for him.

“Is he headed this way? Is that why you’re here?” Riley asked as she dug in her snack hamper for something to eat.

Mara shook her head. “No, Ana De Luca has arrived.”

“LET HER IN!” Riley shouted excitedly as she unwrapped a turkey sandwich.

The Queen neither liked nor trusted the photographer, but Ana was the best photographer in all of Europe and Riley had reached out to her to discuss her idea for a personal gift for the King.

Last month inspiration hit Riley to chronicle she and Liam’s pregnancy via photos; she had sent Ana a collection of personal and professional pictures taken over the course of the past eight months and then requested a boudoir-style photo session. After the photojournalist had signed an NDA, of course.

Mara exited the room, returning shortly with the world-renowned paparazzo who wore her signature sunglasses and carried a stylish camera bag.

“Lemme see, Ana!” Riley demanded as she took a healthy bite out of her sandwich.

Ana De Luca smiled warmly at her monarch as she dipped into a curtsy. “Your Majesty, you’re positively glowing! And I think you’ll be pleased with what I was able to do with the photos.”

Riley cut her eyes; she was swollen everywhere, there were bags under her eyes, and she had a mouth full of food. Ana was such a kiss-ass.

Ana De Luca took a seat next to Riley at the expansive dining table that had been cleared of place settings, glassware, and centerpieces, but was now littered with wrapping paper and tape.

Mara prepared to take her leave, but Riley stopped her. “Where are you going? I need your opinion on these!”

The guard rolled her eyes as she took a seat on the other side of Ana. The photographer carefully removed her camera from its bag, ignoring the Queen’s impatient sighs. After powering the device on and pushing a few buttons, the screen was filled with brilliant, colorful photos:

Riley in Texas, wearing a cowboy hat, her chest hidden behind tall-stalked sunflowers; the midday sun cast a golden glow over the sky and her skin.

Riley wearing a blue cotton dress and soft smile, propped up in bed with a shirtless Liam settled between her legs as he cradled her stomach.

Liam, in full royal regalia, beaming to a crowd from their bedroom balcony as he announced their pregnancy.

Riley grinning as she pointed her index fingers towards her baby bump.

Liam holding Riley close, his nose buried in her hair as she laid her cheek in the crook of his shoulder.

A sleepy Riley in bed with a sleeping Liam, his face laid against a swollen breast; his cheek covered one nipple. The bed sheet covered her other one.

The royal couple in the doctor’s office while Riley received a sonogram.

A close-up photo of the royal couple’s clasped hands.

A photo of them from behind as they walked one of the immense hallways of the Palace, his hand placed against her lower back.

Liam and Riley sharing a deep kiss, his palms covering her belly.

Riley alone in the middle of a bed with mussed sheets, a length of hair covering one eye and her lips painted cherry red. She wore a lowcut black negligee, showing lots of cleavage while her hands were spread over her very pregnant belly.

A silhouette of a naked Riley, her head bowed and her palms cupping the bottom of her impossibly stretched stomach.

Dozens more photos flickered across the small screen; Mara raised an eyebrow in admiration while Riley’s eyes widened with each passing image. Ana was a magician with a camera, no doubt about it.

“All of these have been sent to your personal email address via secured link,” Ana informed Riley.

Riley nodded slowly as her gaze lingered over an extremely risqué boudoir photo. Mara leaned closer into Ana De Luca to get a better look at the image her employer was so obviously taken with. Riley noticed, and abruptly slapped her palm over the screen.

“WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?” she snapped in a raised voice.

“You TOLD me to stay and give you my opinion!” Mara countered.

“On SAFE FOR WORK pictures!”

Mara rolled her eyes. “You seem to forget that I have seen you AND the King in all manners of undress and nudity!”

Ana’s head swiveled as she looked from monarch to guard, interest and curiosity evident in her expression. She hadn’t signed an NDA for this.

“That was THEN, Mara! We are PARENTS now! We NO LONGER indulge in NAKEDNESS!”

“What do you call what I saw two nights ago?” Mara demanded.

A pause while Riley thirstily sipped unsweetened tea. “You know what? I’m ending this,” the Queen decided. “Ana, please print all photos as 8 x 10, and separate into family friendly and personal albums. I’d like them by Christmas Eve, no later than noon. Also, share this image directly to my personal cell please.” Her fingertip tapped the camera screen.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Ana replied as she pushed buttons before powering the camera down. Her mind raced as she thought of sources she could contact about the cryptic, yet very telling conversation she had been privy to.

“Mara, escort Ms. De Luca out AFTER taking her to the security office to sign another NDA” Riley glared at her guard as she shoved the last of her sandwich in her mouth.

Mara glared back as she led a crestfallen Ana De Luca out of the room.

Once alone, Riley checked her texts for the image. She frowned at the photo; at the time, it seemed like a good idea …  a sexy idea. Now, she wasn’t so sure … it just looked  cringey and fetishy.

Which meant Liam would love it.

Or would he?

The Queen needed a second opinion, and she knew just who to get it from: Miss Annabelle Parsons. Not only was she impartial, but she was also open-minded and discreet. Riley could only imagine the fallout of sending the photo to Hana or Maxwell.

She scrolled through her contacts, sharing the image with her dear friend. She didn’t bother to add a caption or note. True friendship was sharing questionable content with no explanation necessary.

Riley stood slowly, sticking her tongue out at the active kicks against her stomach; apparently her sons enjoyed the snack. She pulled a rolling cart alongside the table and began to place wrapped boxes and colorful gift bags upon it.

Her phone rang; she reached out to answer it, not bothering to look at the caller ID. She knew it was Annabelle.

“Hey, that was quick!” she greeted.

“You are sexy as hell, and I want you now,” her husband growled in her ear.

He wasn’t Annabelle Parsons.

Riley grimaced at a twinge of lower back pain. “Liam, what has gotten into you?”

“The picture you sent.”

Riley’s eyes widened as her face dropped. SHITSHITSHITSHIT!!

She pulled the phone from her ear, frantically scrolling through her text messages. Her last chat with Annabelle Parsons was three days ago. Liam’s chat, however, had the questionable photo sat on read. Riley’s fingers scrambled across the screen as she unsent the message.

“What picture? I didn’t send you any picture!” she squeaked in what she hoped was an annoyed tone.

“Don’t play coy, love. I can’t stop looking at it,” Liam chided before falling silent. “Riley, did you just unsend the photo?”

“It wasn’t for you!” Riley replied defensively.

“What do you mean, IT WASN’T FOR ME?” Liam demanded angrily.

“It was for Miss Parsons!” Riley continued to stack presents, although her hands were shaking slightly. It appeared her plan of deflecting Liam’s questions by starting an argument was not working.

“RILEY!” Liam thundered. “WHO was the intended recipient of the photograph? And tell me THE TRUTH!”

“I TOLD YOU! It was for Annabelle Parsons. And I’m not speaking to you anymore!”

Riley ended the call and stared at her phone briefly before blocking Liam’s number.

There! Problem solved.

To be on the safe side, Riley made her way to the dining room doors, locking them from the inside.

Just in case.

She had just made it back to her seat when there was a heavy pounding on the doors, followed by the rattling of doorknobs and Liam shouting for her to OPEN THE DOOR!

Riley looked like a naughty child caught in the act. She pressed her index finger to her lips and looked down at her stomach, which was rolling with her sons’ turns and kicks.

“Shhhh! If we’re very quiet he won’t know we’re in here,” she whispered to her sons.

Commoner’s Wife (song inspo: No One’s Here to Sleep, Naughty Boy/Bastille)

The Palace halls were bustling with staff and nobility alike as final preparations for the Cordonian Citizens’ Christmas Ball were underway. It was an annual event where families, selected via lottery, came to dine and dance, and meet their duchy’s leaders.

Children from various orphanages across the country would also be in attendance to meet Santa and tell him what they wanted for Christmas. The King would review the lists, and personally purchase gifts to be handed out to every child on Christmas Day.

Maintenance engineers hung twinkling lights along crown molding, while maids dusted portraits and statuary. Butlers inspected decorated trees, and straightened wreaths. Christmas carols played from hidden speakers, adding to the chatter and noise throughout the immense hallways.  

Drake Walker, the Duke of Valtoria, maneuvered his way through the throng; his eyes darted everywhere as he searched for his Duchess. Instead, he found the Countess of Fydelia furiously scribbling in a notebook as she hurried down the hall.

“Hey, Madeleine!” Drake blocked the Countess’ path.

The Royal Communications Director scowled up at him. “Drake, what do you want? I have a minor emergency in the Grand Ballroom, and a major one in the kitchens!”  

Drake blew out an impatient huff. “Have you seen Riley? She basically disappeared once we arrived here this morning.”

“Are you SERIOUS right now?” Madeleine yelled in a shrilly tone to be heard over the noise.  “Do you have ANY idea he amount of work that goes into these balls and galas?” Madeleine waved a hand dismissively. “Of course you don’t. You’re used to showing up, drinking liquor, eating food, and going home. She’s probably assisting with seating charts, or maybe ensuring that Santas will be here for the orphans. Or one of a thousand other things!”

Her phone rang. As soon as she answered, a frown twisted her ruby-colored lips. “Do NOT tell me THAT!” she warned her caller as she began moving down the hall again. She paused to look over her shoulder at Drake. “Text her! Or Liam. We’ve got 100 things to do and not nearly enough hands to help, so she could be anywhere.”

Drake raked his fingers through his hair as he wondered again why he told Brooks to accept the duchy. At the time, he didn’t want her to leave Cordonia. To leave him. But between her responsibilities and duties, he felt he may be seeing more of her if she had returned to Brooklyn.

He was neither a lazy husband nor Duke. He knew what marriage to a Duchess would entail, and he was willing to put in the work regarding both his marriage and gaining and keeping the trust of his … their … citizenry. What he hadn’t anticipated was how closely the Duchess would be working with the King. Drake knew his wife’s feelings towards Liam were ambivalent at best.

She was tense and nervous upon her returns from the Palace, which were growing increasingly later, heading straight into the shower to help calm her. On the rare occasions she returned within what Drake deemed to be a reasonable time, she was agitated and uncommunicative.

He didn’t want Brooks upset or hurt over Liam ever again. Yet, whenever he suggested he take over some of the palatial duties, she always refused; instead, she encouraged him to pursue Royal Guard training, an idea he had been entertaining long before their marriage.  

Liam was her problem, not his.

The Duke of Valtoria really didn’t need his wife for anything; he merely wanted to be with her. Whatever needed to be done to ensure the ball went off without a hitch, he wanted them to do it together.

Drake decided to head towards the King’s private quarters hoping to find Liam, or his assistant. One of the two would know where his wife was. But when he arrived at the suite, the guard outside the doors said the King was on an international conference call and could not be disturbed.

The Duke asked if the guard had seen the Valtorian Duchess.

The answer was negative.

Drake pulled out his phone, dialing his wife’s number. For the fifth time, his call went unanswered. Shaking his head, he turned around and didn’t see the guard pull out his own phone and begin texting. The Duke was halfway down the hallway when a Palace staffer caught his attention.

“Your Grace, your assistance is needed in setting up the Santa Station in the ballroom. Lord Neville was supposed to help, but …” the worker shrugged.

“Say no more, and lead the way,” Drake replied. “Curious, have you seen the Duchess of Valtoria around?”

“She and His Majesty were in the garden maze helping with decorations, but that was over an hour ago. Folks are being pulled in so many different directions today.”

Drake nodded understandingly. “I’m surprised at how many nobles are pitching in.”

“Oh, it’s always all-hands on deck when it comes to the general public and the children.”

Drake nodded again. “That’s the kind of man the King is.”

Three hours later, Drake was back in the rooms assigned to him and Riley; his shoulders were tight, pine needles littered his hair, and his stomach was growling. He was pleasantly surprised to see a food trolley filled with lunchmeat sandwiches, assorted snacks and fruits, and cold beverages.

He was excited to see Riley pushing her heels of her feet. “Hey, babe!  You didn’t answer any of my calls. Where’ve you been all day?” he asked before claiming her lips in a searing kiss.

“Dear God, everywhere, performing Cordonian duty!” she answered when they broke the kiss. “Looks like you’ve been putting up Christmas trees,” she observed.

“Yeah, the Santa Stop is officially in place. Only took an entire crew plus me.”  

Drake exhaled a long breath. “What time does this thing start? I could use food and a nap. Or quality alone time with my wife,” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Riley giggled as she tossed her phone onto the bed. “You grab a sandwich; I’ll grab a shower. Meet you back here in 10?”

“Only if there’s a massage in it for me. Manual labor reminds me I’ve let my gym routine slip a bit.”

Riley’s cream-colored sweater dress fell to the carpet. “Whatever you desire, Your Grace,” she purred in a sultry tone.

Drake grinned as he swatted her ass. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

He watched as she quickly stripped out of hosiery and undergarments, and then disappeared into the bathroom. Drake fished his phone out of his pocket, tossing it on the bed next to Riley’s. They had matching phones, cases, and passcodes.

They both wanted transparency in their marriage. Besides, they had the same friends and nothing to hide.

He grabbed a sandwich, holding it one hand; with the other, he struggled out of shirt. He frowned at the pine needles that fell from his hair and clothing. He took another huge bite of bread, meat, and cheese, deciding to join his wife; he had just unfastened his jeans when one of the phones vibrated.

Ten minutes later, Riley re-entered the bedroom; her hair was damp, the curls still dripping water. A fluffy white towel was wrapped around her body. “Ready or not, here I come!” she sang out.

Drake was sitting on the side of the bed, staring at his phone. His jaw was clenched, his eyes mere slits as he looked at the screen.

“Honey, you okay?” Riley asked, a thread of worry in her voice.

Drake stood slowly, anger clearly visible on his face. He held the phone up so Riley could see the screen.

She paled instantly.

“I don’t know how I am, Brooks,” he ground out the words through gritted teeth. “Care to tell me why the KING OF CORDONIA texted you a DICK PIC and says he misses you already?"

SGL x Riley B. (song inspo: Got to Be Real, Cheryl Lynn)

Liam grinned at Penelope as the couple did the electric slide across the banquet hall. It was the law firm’s annual holiday party, and the pair had joined in with about 50 other people on the parquet dance floor to groove to 70s disco and funk.

Penelope grinned back as she shimmied her shoulders and her hips swung side to side, in sync with the group. She had many failings as a girlfriend, but the woman could dance. Liam appreciated a good dancer.

Their bellies were full of catered steak and seafood, and both were pleasantly tipsy courtesy of the open bar. The song changed to something from the 80s with a slower beat, and he drew Penelope into an embrace; their bodies moved together as one. Liam softly sang along with the tune, his teeth occasionally nipping his girlfriend’s earlobe.

She laid her head against his chest. “This is so great, Li,” she murmured.

“Oh, it’ll get better once we’re back in our room,” he promised.

Liam had taken advantage of the discounted room rate for guests who didn’t want to travel back to DC from Reston, Virginia after a night of revelry.

Penelope giggled. “Merry Christmas.”

Meanwhile, in DC, Riley Renee Brooks was pretty wasted. It was three days before Christmas, and she was alone.

Drake had boarded a plane that morning, bound for Christmas in Texas while Riley went to work. While Riley ate a pizza lunch with Maxwell, Drake was picking up his rental car from the Austin airport. When Riley met some former co-workers for a comedy show after work, Drake was cooking dinner for his mom. After the show, Riley and her friends went out for drinks. Drake was asleep.

Riley was not a drinker, but she had to try something called Kinky Pink. That led to Kinky Green. And she couldn’t leave out Kinky Blue.

Kinky, while colorful and fruity, was pretty potent. Four drinks in, Riley was on her ass.

Her friends drove her home, helped her into her apartment, and made sure she was settled with aspirin and water before taking their leave.

Now she was naked, starfished on her bed thinking of how much she missed her boyfriend when she got the bright idea to take naked selfies to send him. If she could just find her phone …

Back in Reston, Liam was at the bar requesting a bottle of water. Two of them. The party was still going strong, but Liam intended to go strong later that night, so it was time to limit the intake. He glanced around, catching sight of Penelope at the blackjack table. By the look on her face, she was losing. Badly.

Perfect timing.

He would play a few hands, then take her upstairs. If he lost, she wouldn’t feel it was just her. If he won, she knew Liam would replace her loss. And she eaten and drank plenty on someone else’s dime, which would make her … appreciative.

Win-win.

Liam wished, not for the first time, that this relationship wasn’t so much work.

He was crossing the room when he felt his phone move in his jacket pocket. He stopped at a nearby table, dropping into an empty seat. He set the waters down, fished his phone out of his pocket, and unlocked the home screen. His eyes scanned through text messages; nothing new. Email had no notifications. WhatsApp … ahhhh, there it was. A message from Riley B.

His eyebrow raised slightly. Riley B. knew it was the night of the holiday party; she didn’t intrude when she knew Liam would be busy, whether it was work or pleasure. He wondered if it was an emergency. He quickly tapped on the chat; his eyes bugged as he fell into a coughing fit. The table’s occupants looked at him in concern, asking if he was okay.

A red-faced Liam nodded quickly. “Water went down the wrong pipe,” he offered in explanation.

No one mentioned that the bottles of water were unopened.

Liam looked at the phone again, his eyes growing wider and rounder in disbelief and lust. Staring back at him were two large breasts, almost golden in color with large areolas and long, milk chocolate nipples.

He was staring at Riley B.’s tits!

His cock immediately sprang to attention.

There was a second picture; with a trembling finger, Liam opened it and audibly gulped.

Riley B. was naked on her bed, resting on her haunches, with a dildo in her mouth.

The ENTIRE dildo.

Sweet Jesus come please us!

Liam was about to blow a load right there in the Hyatt Regency’s Ballroom A.

He looked around furtively; Penelope was still at the blackjack table, pouting. Liam knew he couldn’t just vanish on her. She was his date. His girlfriend. No, he couldn’t just disappear, but he could slip away for a few.

Riley B. was always a priority, but a naked Riley B.? Top priority.

He took several deep breaths, scooped the waters and hurried over to the casino area.

“Babe, I gotta go to the room real quick. Here, take this water and let me give you some cash so you can continue playing, okay?” His words spilled from his lips so quickly, he barely understood what he was saying.

Penelope looked up at him with watery blue eyes. “I’m losing, Li!”

“I know you are. Why don’t you go try the roulette wheel?” He handed her three 100-dollar bills.

Penelope smiled brightly. “Okay!” she chirped.

Liam nodded briefly at her before making a beeline for the doors. At the elevators, he repeatedly pressed the elevator button, muttering “c’mon, c’mon” until the doors opened. Once at his floor, he sprinted to his room while praying the front desk had taken care of the key issue he and Penelope had earlier at check-in.

Once inside, he pulled the curtains shut, closed the bathroom door, and fell back on the bed; his phone was in his hand, and Riley’s B.’s breasts once again filled his vision. He stared for a full minute, unzipping his pants in an effort to relieve the growing pressure in his crotch.

Liam dialed Riley’s number slowly, hoping against hope. For what, he didn’t know.

“CHELLO!” Riley slurred when she picked up.

“Riley B.! Are you okay?” Liam demanded.

“Why you callin’ me Liam’s name? You always say Brooks!”

Liam exhaled a small breath. Riley B. was drunk. As a skunk. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. The pictures weren’t meant for him. They were for Drake. Her boyfriend. And she was too inebriated to realize her mistake.

What he did know was his erection was gone; he quickly zipped his pants back up.

“It’s not Drake. It’s me, Liam.”

“Did you like the pictures, big boy?” She was attempting sexy, but her voice was whiny and screechy.

“You sent them to me, Riley B., not Drake.”

“You want me to send them to Liam?” Riley sounded confused. “Why? He would laugh at them. He doesn’t see me like that.”

The hell I would and the hell I don’t!

“You didn’t like the pictures, Drake?” Her voice was quavering as if she were on the verge of tears.

“I love them! That’s why I called as soon as I saw them.”

Liam gave up talking sense to his best friend. She was tore up from the floor up.

“I wanna do things with you when you get back!”

“We will.”

“Drake, I’m drunk. I drank Kinky shit tonight.” Riley’s voice was getting sleepy.

“You know you can’t drink like that, Riley B.,” he replied in a reproving tone.

“I miss you, is all. Everyone else is together for Christmas and I wish we were too.”

Liam closed his eyes, fighting the urge to leave Penelope at the hotel and rush over to Brookland.

“I’ll be home soon. Hey, you know what? Liam doesn’t have any plans for Christmas Eve; call him and see if he wants to hang out.”

“Did you really like the pictures?” Riley whined as her cadence slowed and her voice deepened.

“I loved them. And I love you. Now get some sleep.”

“Night night.”

Liam heard her fumble with the phone before she hung up; he ended the call and stared at the photos one last time before deleting them.

Tagging:  @jared2612 @ao719  @marietrinmimi @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020  @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet  @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @phoenixrising0308 @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @foreverethereal123 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @jovialyouthmusic @21-wishes @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @queenrileyrose @alj4890 @yourfavaquarius111 @motorcitymademadame @bbrandy2002 @queenmiarys  @choicesficwriterscreations @burnsoslow​

[sinner-as-saint]

I saw you and I knew.

Biker!Bucky x Reader AU

Run-through: You met Bucky unexpectedly at an unfamiliar bar one night - one of your last nights of freedom before your parents marry you off to some rich, young man. Bucky happened to be so different from all the men you had dated or you were used to seeing that it was a little bit of a surprise how reckless and open he was. You had been subconsciously looking for a way out of the situation you were in for days, so when Bucky makes you a rather unusual proposal; you accept immediately. And it ends up being one of the best things you ever agreed to. 

Themes: smut, fluff, 

a/n: remember this Bucky? Yeah, me too. 

The moment you stepped into the bar, you felt all eyes on you. 

Not in a bad way, more like in an intrigued way. 

A couple of steps in and you realized why; there was no one but bikers in this club. Large, built, mean looking men. But judging by the sound of laughter and the bouncers scattered around the room, you felt oddly safe in the environment. 

You went up to the counter and ordered yourself a drink. Once you found a seat in the less crowded area of the bar, you settled in next to the large window pane; looking out at the passing cars while sipping on your drink. The sun would set soon so the sky was all pink, and-

You felt a tap on your shoulder. “This seat taken?” A male voice spoke up behind you. 

You placed your bottle down and turned to face him. You were aware that you did stare at him for a while. How could you not? Dark, slightly long hair, worn out leather jacket, and tattoos… a lot of them, peeking through his collar and around his wrists. And a perfect face. He gave you a slight smirk when he noticed that you were checking him out but you soon recovered, your heart racing. 

“No, it’s not.” You gestured to the seat across from you, which he then walked over to. 

You watched him, how he moved so confidently. You kept watching as he placed his own beer down, and took his leather jacket off to reveal a loose, ripped t-shirt underneath, as well as his muscular arms; one of them metal and glistening in the dimmed lights of the bar. He folded the jacket carelessly into a ball and placed it down on the table before taking a seat in front of you, leaning back and placing his muscular, tattooed arm over the seat of the booth. You noticed his pierced ears then. 

It almost felt like a strip show. He had barely said enough to you and you were already feeling a little hot, with him staring at you. 

“I’ve never seen you around here before.” He said, and something about his ease, and the softness of his tone, despite his rather mean and dangerous appearance, chased away the little bit of awkwardness which was forming in between you too. It soon vanished. 

You licked your lips and answered, “It’s my first time here actually.” You gave him a polite smile which he returned, giving you the same look that everyone gave you for the first nanoseconds you walked in - an intrigued look. 

He leaned forward, and gently toyed with your car keys laying on the table top. You got a whiff of his scent. You expected him to smell like cigarettes but he smelt like some fading, strong and expensive cologne. Very manly. “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, Princess?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at him slightly, not minding the nickname. “How’d you know?” 

He chuckled, and the sound echoed in your head. He sounded so boyish when he laughed, it warmed your heart for some reasons. Something about him screamed trouble, and recklessness and danger. 

“You drive a Benz which no one here does, you’re drinking a martini while everyone is having cheap beers and you’re dressed like a classy lady in a place filled with leather and chains. So tell me, am I right?” He pointed out, his tone cocky and confident like one would expect. 

You leaned back into your seat as well. “You’re judging me.” You pointed out. Funny, you thought you were somewhat blending in here with your little black dress - but clearly not. 

He laughed again, making you crack a little smile. “Princess, look around. You don’t belong here. So tell me, what’s your story? How did you end up in a place like this?” 

You sighed. “I was just… driving around, and I ran out of fuel not far from here. So I called for my chauffeur and didn’t want to wait by the side of the road until he arrived so I figured I could get a drink while waiting.” 

He looked you dead in the eyes while you talked. Nodding at each bit of information. “I meant your real story, Princess. You drove a long way, why? I see it in your eyes. Something’s bothering you. What is it?” 

He was reading you like you were his favorite book. And you found that quite… interesting because no one was ever able to do that normally. It felt intimate. 

“And why should I tell you?” 

“Because you want to. You need a friend, and I’m not half bad, am I?” Cocky, as expected. 

You chuckled. “You won’t get it.” 

He raised an eyebrow. A warning. “What is it? Your conservative and rich father won’t give you your pocket money in thousands this month?” 

Despite the words, he managed to get yet another laugh out of you. “I earn my own money, thank you.” 

“I’ll believe you. Then what is it? Your snobbish, rich playboy boyfriend is acting up?” 

And yet another chuckle left your lips. “You seem to have issues with people who are well-off.” 

He smirked. “Trust me, I don’t. I just want to figure you out.” 

“Why?” 

“Because your eyes are telling me that you’re sad. And that you’ve been contained for too long. You want to be freed. Am I wrong?” 

Your lips parted at the accuracy of his words. “No, you’re not.” You lowered your eyes to the table, but he was quick to reach out with his metal arm and grab you gently by the chin. He tilted your head just enough so you could look at him. 

“What is it, angel?” He asked softly. 

“I… I don’t want to go home.” You whispered, your voice tired and low. 

“Okay. Parents?” He spoke like he could relate. 

You nodded and he gently let go of your face. “Parents.” You confirmed. “They want me to marry one of their friend’s son because according to them it’ll be good for the both of us. And you know, for each of the families’ businesses.” 

He frowned. “You don’t like him, I assume.” 

You sighed. “I don’t know him. He’s a good man according to my mother, who also hasn’t seen him since we were kids. Apparently I met him once or twice but I was too young back then to remember…” you sighed again, “It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, picking up your glass and taking yet another sip. “ Whoever he is, I can’t say no.” 

He scoffed. “Yes you can.” 

You chuckled, dryly. “You don’t understand. My dad will make my life a living hell if-,”

“Who cares what he thinks? He married the one he loved, didn’t he? Then why not let you find love on your own as well?” He did make sense. 

You smiled sadly, thinking of your parents and their marriage. “I don’t think so.” 

He stopped midway through picking his beer bottle up. “What?” he asked, then went back to picking it up again, bringing it to his pink lips. 

“My dad. I don’t think he married out of love.” You let out a quiet scoff, “I don’t think my mom did either. They just realized that that would be the best for the both of them, I suppose. Now that I think about it, I don’t think they ever truly loved each other at any point.” You tilted your head while looking out at the passing cars out the window. “Mom always told me that marriage isn’t always about love, it’s about convenience.” 

He let out a shameless chuckle. “I’m sorry, but what a bunch of bullshit! You believe her?” He asked in disbelief. 

“It’s all I’ve ever been told all my life. Besides, I don’t have much of a choice anymore, might as well.” 

He frowned at you, setting his bottle down to give you his full attention. “Come on, Princess. You can’t be serious. You can’t give up on love just because your parents did.” 

That earned him a smile from you. “You sound like you know a lot about love.” You leaned forward, placing your elbow on the table, resting your chin on your fist. “It’s your turn, tell me, who has you under their unescapable love spell?” It was surprising how easy it was to talk to him. Almost felt like you had known him all your life. 

He laughed again, that same boyish look on his face. “Nah, none of that. But I do know what it’s like to be contained, and I also know what it’s like to be finally free, with no worries about family pressure or expectations and let me tell you, Princess, it’s the best feeling in the world.” 

That sounded exquisite. It sounded like… like everything you wanted right there and then. To not bother about what mom and dad might think and live for yourself for however long you wanted to. 

“And what gives you that freedom? Riding down the highway at full speed on your mean bike?” You sassed. 

You watched how his eyes lit up. “You’re right. And that’s exactly what you need, Princess. Come on, let’s go!” 

Before you could process anything, he grabbed your hand and stood up. All you could do was quickly grab your purse and keys and you went along with him. You only realized what you were doing once you stepped outside. 

“Wait! I- I…” You were stumbling over your words. A million thoughts rushing through your head all at once. And the piercing pair of blue eyes staring deep into yours weren’t helping at all. 

He walked up to you. “It’s your life. They can’t tell you how to live it. You have every right to find love on your own, and if you don’t want to marry what’s his face then don’t. Parent or not, they can’t do that to you. Come on, let’s go before some old, broody chauffeur gets here.” 

He tugged on your arm gently, walking towards the many bikes which were parked outside the bar. 

“But, I- I’m supposed to leave tomorrow, to see the guy. I’m… I can’t just disappear. Where are we even going? I just met you and I- I don’t even know your name. Besides, you had alcohol. You can’t-,”

“Apple juice.” He stopped, and turned around to look at you. He repeated, “Apple juice. Don’t tell anyone.” 

You looked at him like he was speaking another language. “What?”

“The bartender is a cool guy, I told him I don’t consume alcohol when I ride so he poured apple juice in beer bottles for me so that I can mingle with the crowd but also get home safe.” He explained. 

You giggled uncontrollably at his answer and he lowered his blushing face. “That was funny, but I don’t believe you at all, I-,” you cut yourself off as you laughed; quite unladylike. 

Without another word said, he circled his arm around you and pulled you into him, and his lips were on yours in less than a second. He kissed you deeply, thoroughly. Still gentle, but passionately. He held you by the neck with his metal hand and you melted in his embrace. You kissed him back and you heard a little moan escape his lips - sending shivers down your spine and making your heart flutter, and other places throb. He teased you by biting down on your lip, making you gasp as his tongue soothed it right after. He pulled you closer, pressing you against him even more, kissing you deeper if that was possible. 

Your hands found themselves around his neck, your fingers sliding into his hair. He chuckled against your lips once he noticed that you were getting a little breathless. “Now tell me. What do I taste like, Princess?” He whispered against your lips, his voice sending shivers throughout your body. 

Your face felt really hot at his question and only then did you realize that he did in fact taste tangy, and sweet. “Apple.” 

He smiled against your lips before kissing you deeply again. “Told you. Now come on, trust me and let’s go. You can go home later tonight, or tomorrow morning. I’ll drop you wherever you wanna go. But right now, come with me.” 

Fuck it. 

“Yes.” You agreed. He gave you a big smile and tugged you along once again. You spoke up again. “And if you plan on killing me, just make it quick. Please. And don’t do weird things to me after I’m dead. Definitely do not feed me to animals, or humans for that matter. And don’t-”  

He cut you off with another kiss once you reached his bike. “Shh.” He laughed. “I won’t do any of that. Now come on, put these on.” He handed you his jacket from earlier and a helmet. 

You put those on quickly, not giving yourself the chance to overthink and prevent yourself from living a little. Once you climbed onto his bike, you realized that you would be pressed up against his back quite a bit. You didn’t mind it, it just made your heart race a little. His leather jacket felt nice and cool against your skin. 

“Hold on tight, Princess. It won’t be that long of a ride. But it’ll be great, trust me.” 

You nodded, and he chuckled at how adorable you looked with his huge, black helmet on. “Don’t kill us.” 

“I won’t, angel.” 

He kicked the engine to life. It roared so loudly that you couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rush already. You giggled as he drove off, away from the pub, away from where you had left your car, away from where your chauffeur was supposed to pick you up. Away. 

You felt the wind against your bare legs and parts of your face. Cold, rushing - making you forget. You wrapped your arms tight around his waist and tipped your head a little, looking up at the saturated, pink sky, the stars had started showing faintly and suddenly you realized how much of your life you had missed while chasing the dreams your parents had assigned you to chase. 

Your friends would often talk of reckless nights back in university, but you never got to experience those because you were always busy studying to make sure your parents remained proud of you. 

But you were now. You were on a mean bike with a drop dead gorgeous man, riding down the highway while the sun set in the background. You felt alive. Slowly, you loosened your arms from around his waist, lifting them away from his body. You lifted your arms upwards, feeling your hands tear through the icy winds and you let out a genuine laugh. 

You noticed he slowed down a little when you did so. You let your arms up for some more time before you lowered them and wrapped them around his waist again. You inched closer and pressed your chest to his back, feeling his warmth seep through the many layers of clothing. 

“Thank you.” You whispered close to his ear. You knew he heard you even if he didn’t respond right away. 

“Wanna see the sunset better?” he asked, barely a second later. 

“Yes, please!” 

About ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of what seemed like a motel. You got off the bike once he came to a stop and he did too. He helped you take the helmet off and immediately grabbed your hand and ran towards the motel. 

You followed, giggling like a kid. “Where are we going?” 

“The roof. Come on, quick.” 

He answered and led both of you to what seemed to be some sort of fire escape. You climbed the metal stairs as fast as you could, not more than a few steps behind him until you reached the roof. It was filled with empty cans, cigarette butts and what not but it also gave you a view to die for. 

The sky had turned orangish by now, the sun was halfway down the horizon and you were mesmerized. You couldn’t look away. The sky darkened with each second, and you felt too much at the same time. You wanted to run. And never come back. You wanted bike rides everyday. You wanted to take the time and admire each sunset like this. You wanted to not worry about anything for a while. 

You felt strong arms wrap around you from behind. Then he placed his chin on your shoulder, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Don’t cry, angel.” Only then did you realize that you had a tear slowly falling down your cheek. 

You wiped it away and kept staring at the sky, watched it change colors. Your racing heart calmed down and a certain body heat wrapped around you, comforting you better than any blanket ever could. 

You turned in his arms, facing him once the sky turned a darker shade of blue when the sun had set completely. Another tear escaped your eye. He caught this one before it fell down your cheek. He looked down at you with a soft look in his eyes. It almost made your heart hurt. 

“I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want any of it.” You whispered, keeping your eyes on his neck, admiring his tattoos through your teary eyes. You couldn’t tell what they were just yet, but they looked incredible on his tan skin. 

“Then don’t.” He answered, easily. “Don’t go home right away. Don’t marry him if you don’t want to. Stay.” He whispered the last bit, his metal arm reaching up to cup your face. “You might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” 

You giggled through the tears. “So this is where you bring all the girls?” You asked, your tone much more playful and teasing. 

He shook his head, laughing quietly. “I don’t. I don’t even live in this town. I have a family thing I need to attend in a day or two, so I was just passing by. I got a room for a couple of nights and boom, now here we are.” 

You nodded slowly. “Here we are.” You whispered back, your eyes flicking down to his lips a couple of times before looking back up into his eyes. 

He gave you a faint smile before leaning in for a kiss again, sighing once his lips touched yours like he had been craving it. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing him back. He kissed you recklessly, tugging and biting your lip, allowing his hands to slide up and down your side and he tilted your head to the side, stroking deeper into your mouth with his tongue. 

“Let’s go.” He murmured against your lips before kissing them again. 

“Where?” 

“Downstairs.” He kissed along your jaw until his mouth reached your ear. He gave you a kiss and you visibly trembled in his arms. “It’s my turn to see what you taste like.” He whispered, blunt and hot. 

Your face felt really hot, again. And when he pulled away, he had a handsome smirk on his pretty face. You got over the shyness and leaned in to kiss him again, aggressively. He chuckled into your mouth and pulled away before tugging you along as he took the stairs again, leading the two of you downstairs. 

The night was properly dark by the time you got to the front of the motel, both of you unable to keep your hands off each other, stopping multiple times to push one another against the wall and make out like there’s no tomorrow. 

There were not many people in sight. You could hear murmurs of muffled conversations coming from the restaurant which was attached to the motel, and a group of bikers were having a chat and smoking out in the parking lot but that was all. 

He led you to his room, unlocked the door and pulled you inside, both of you giggling and moaning as you kissed like horny teenagers. 

He pulled away again, “Oh and, my name’s Bucky. Remember that when you’re moaning later.” He whispered breathlessly against your lips as he slammed the door shut behind the two of you and wrapped his arms around you immediately, pulling you closer as though he needed you like he needed air. 

“I’m Y/N. You remember that too.” You moaned into the kiss and shrugged his leather jacket off as quickly as possible, eager to feel his skin on yours. You helped him take his shirt off, tossing it aside carelessly. You briefly let your hands roam around his torso, feeling each indent and firm muscle, your heart racing with each inch of skin you explored. 

He unzipped your dress while walking the two of you backwards, and by the time you made it to the queen sized bed you were both left in just your underwear. 

Bucky pushed you down on the bed, it was surprisingly soft and comfortable. He was on top of you not even a second later. You whined when he moved to kiss down your neck, nibbling on your skin and leaving dark red marks behind. You wrapped your legs around him, moving your hips against him slowly, grinding on him out of desperation and he chuckled against your skin. “Eager, are we?” he whispered and peppered your neck with soft kisses.

You moaned when his hands reached up to wrap around your breasts, fondling and teasing you through the lacy bra. He moaned against your skin as your fingers slid through his hair and tugged at his roots. 

“Bucky…” You dragged his name out, squirming under him as he took his sweet time kissing down your body. 

“Hmm?” He acted oblivious as he took your underwear off and tossed them on the floor as he settled himself in between your legs properly. His handsome, perfect face just inches away from your dripping core. 

You whined. “I want you, please…” 

He chuckled, kissing your inner thighs. “I know, angel. I know.” His warm breath fanned your sensitive skin as he spoke, and he noticed the way the goosebumps erupted all over your skin. He looked up at you for a quick second, scanning your face. 

You held your upper body up on your elbows by now, looking down at him with your bottom lip in between your teeth. He sent you a shameless wink before leaning in and kissing your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease. He teased your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than earlier. 

A pressing need to release formed deep inside you as you felt his tongue stroked your most sensitive parts. “You taste better than I imagined…” Bucky chuckled as he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. 

He grinned to himself, glad that he was the one bringing you such pleasure. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He placed his mouth back on you again, and licked in between your wet folds, making you whine as he tasted you. His touch was slow, pleasurably agonizing. “Please…” you cried out, whimpering and begging. 

“Oh?” He taunted. “But I’m not quite done, so don’t you come yet angel.” He whispered against your wet skin. He kissed down all the way to your core, and gently bit your skin, making you hiss in pleasure. You could feel your arousal trickling out of you, one drop at a time. But Bucky didn’t let none of it go to waste, he leaned in and latched his mouth onto your core, sucking and licking and teasing you. Your arousal coated the lower half of his face, but he didn’t mind it one bit. 

He watched how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud. He had you coming undone all over his mouth in no time. 

“That’s a good girl… cum for me, Princess.” 

You were gasping for air in no time, your body squirming under his. Bucky kissed his way up your body again. He gave you a brief kiss on the lips then lifted off you for just a moment to get rid of his underwear and grab a condom from the drawer and put it on. Once done, he was hovering over your naked body again. 

Bucky’s body settled in between your legs comfortably again, and he leaned in to kiss you on the nose and then down to your lips. You smiled through the kiss as he pulled you even closer. You could feel his thick and hard cock resting against your thighs. He touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin. His hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. 

You moaned into the kiss; his touch was slow, and gentle and enticing but also fiery. He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around. He stared into your eyes, his face still dangerously close to yours. “You okay, angel?” he asked. His voice strained and deep, gravelly with lust.

“Yes… please, I need you.” You whispered against his mouth. You were burning up under him. 

Bucky pushed his tongue into past your lips while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You immediately lifted your legs up to wrap them around his waist like earlier. You moaned quietly as he pushed into you. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, and gave you a couple of seconds to adjust. He grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down on the bed, above your head. 

He pulled out and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to keep quiet. He lowered his face again, and leaned into your ear. “It’s okay, angel. Let me hear you.” He whispered, groaning by the end and let go of your hands to hold your body. 

He gripped your waist and pushed deeper into you. You heard him gasp and swear under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you. He kissed you, bit your lips, kissed your open mouth, and shoved his tongue past your lips while he rammed into you; and you never once complained. 

Your legs trembled around his waist, he thrust deeper into you, and in the daze he was in, he mumbled right in your ear about how good you felt. The sound of his moans and grunts sent tingles dancing down your spine. 

Never in a million years did you ever think that you would find yourself in a motel room, having mind blowing sex with a hottie you met about an hour ago, but here you were. And you loved each moment. Your back arched off the bed as you felt a familiar warmth washing over you. Bucky growled and bit down on your shoulder to keep himself from making any loud noises while he fucked you. He was relentless. And you loved it.

“Cum for me, angel. Come all over my cock…” 

Your moans got louder as your walls clenched violently around him, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure washed over you. You gasped, trying to calm your racing heart but he wasn’t done with you yet. Bucky flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips. He kissed the back of your neck.  

“More.” He growled against your skin and pushed your face down against the pillows, making your ass stick out for him. He gripped each side of your hips, tightly. He pushed his cock into you without a word said; earning a sinful moan out of you. He groaned and grunted as he filled you up again; your butt cheeks pressing into his pelvic bone as he pounded into you.

You moaned out loud at the new sensation of him rocking into you from behind. Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the rush of excitement which coursed through him each time he felt his cock deep within you.

You felt him quicken his pace. “Fuck…” he moaned. 

You tightened around him, and he groaned, pounding into you; growling and mumbling swear words under his breath. You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you could barely hold back anymore. His other hand reached around and toyed with your folds; his fingers furiously rubbed the skin around your clit and made you tremble and whimper again. 

“Bucky… please,” You moaned, craving more and more of him.

With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling the burning hot need to cum grow hotter and hotter inside you until it exploded. You came with a loud moan, gushing all around him. Bucky came right after you; buried deep within you – growling and mumbling swear words under his breath. 

His soft kisses are the last thing you remember feeling before you snuggled up to his warm body under the sheets and drifted off to sleep without a single care in the world for the first time in a long time. 

--- 

You laid your head on his bare chest, a thin white sheet barely covering either of you properly. The sun was coming up and you could tell that your phone would be blowing up by now if you hadn’t turned it off the night before. You quickly chased those thoughts away, you didn’t want to think about anyone this morning. 

Just Bucky. 

You lifted your head up slowly so as not to disturb him but when you looked up you found him staring down at you with a soft smile on his face. “Hi.” You whispered, your voice hoarse and strained. 

He chuckled, pushing some of your hair out of your face. “Hey angel. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He asked, concern written all over his face for a moment. 

You shook your head. “I’m okay.” You lowered your head again, placing your ear right on top of his heart. You let out a sigh. You knew you wouldn’t be able to escape your family forever and your father will track you down and you would have to explain yourself, possibly even marry whoever they ask you to but this right now, last night and this morning - you would cherish that forever. 

You lazily ran your fingers up and down Bucky’s tattooed arm wishing for a different reality, while he played with your hair. You gently traced the lines and curves of ink on his skin, some were hard to decipher because they overlapped with the others. Some words you could make out, some you couldn’t. A few of the discreet, smaller tattoos looked like he had done them himself, and their messiness made you giggle. Like the poorly done smiley face on the inside of his wrist, and the fading initials next to them: j.b.b. 

You froze. Hang on… 

“Bucky?” You felt like you would explode with the amount of emotions and thoughts which rushed inside your head. 

“Yes Princess?” You could hear the sleep in his voice. 

“What’s your last name?” You asked, anticipation building inside of you and almost choking you. It couldn’t be… could it? 

“Barnes. Why?” He answered, looking down at you with confusion all over his face meanwhile you looked like you had seen a ghost. 

You closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath. “Let me guess, your real name is James. And your father has a very close friend and fellow businessman named Y/L/N?” 

He furrowed his eyebrows at you. “Yes. How did you-,”

You got up and straddled him, pinning him down under you. He didn’t mind the nudity, quite the contrary actually. “Bucky! You’re the guy I’m supposed to marry! You’re James Buchanan Barnes!” You went on to tell him your full name and you watched how the realization hit him just as hard as it hit you. 

“Oh…” His smirk faded for a moment as he processed what you had just said, before it formed again. “Well in that case…” He flipped the two of you around and pinned you down under him just like he had last night. “It’s nice to finally meet you, future wife.” He leaned in for another kiss. 

[slasherhaven]

hi!!

can I request hcs about a reader who is on a trip with her s/o and her best friend, and ends up defending Thomas from a group of other travelers, and ends up probably getting like punched in the face for him.

they have car trouble, and are allowed to stay at the Hewitt household for the night, (solely because reader took a punch head on, and still continued to defend Thomas) only for reader to discover that her s/o is railing her best friend, and u know that that means— death for them, and now Thomas gets to keep reader.

Thomas Hewitt X Reader

Warnings: cheating, mentions of blood

Disruptive:

This road trip had been being planned for the last couple of months, the three of you planning on travelling the states, hitting the more rural areas and not just the main tourist destinations. It was supposed to be a an opportunity to get away from everything just for a while.

The plan was in the works for a couple of months, so how hadn't any of you thought to plan ahead if the car broke down?

Ian, your boyfriend, had his head under the hood of the car while you and Cecilia, your best friend since childhood, stood by the edge of the road. Ready to wave down a car if one drove by, but none came. You hadn't seen another car for at least two hours now. You must have hit a very isolated part of Texas.

"Well, I think a professional need to take a look at this" Ian sighed as he closed the hood. "I think there's a gas station a little further down the road, maybe they know somebody who could help" he informed you.

Not wanting to leave your car full of your belongings on the side of the road, you all grabbed your own bag and locked up the car before beginning the walk.

It wasn't a long walk, but the heat made it feel much longer, before you arrived at the gas station. It almost seemed abandoned, looking pretty run down, but their was a truck parked outside by one of the gas pumps.

You walked behind your two friends as you approached the front door, pausing when you heard somebody shouting. With a frown, you stepped back as Ian and Cecelia stepped inside the station. Neither of them noticing that you were no longer following behind.

You considered ignoring the shouting but just couldn't, glancing back at the front door before walking around the gas station. As you walked around to the back of the small building, you saw three men.

One was significantly taller and broader than the other two. It looked like he was just trying to work, hoisting up a crate with an impressive amount of ease, while the two men just berated him.

The larger man just continued to ignore them. You wondered why he didn't respond, surely he could scare them off pretty easy. Maybe he was just trying not to cause any trouble while he worked?

"Hey" you finally spoke up, making the two men look at you. The larger man glanced at you, and that was when you noticed the leather mask. It was curious but you tried not to stare. "Is there a problem?" you asked.

"No problem. Just came for gas, didn't think we'd be treated to a free freak show as well" one of the shorter men jeered.

"Sounds like he's just trying to work and you're just being jerks" you folded your arms over your chest. The larger actually seemed to be reacting to the conversation now, placing the crate down and looking over at you. "Looks like you're just bothering him" you added.

"Just get outta here, we're only messing around" one of the men rolled his eyes.

"Dumb bastard probably doesn't even understand" the other man scoffed.

"He's the dumb one? You're the ones picking on some stranger to make yourselves feel better" you huffed, walking further towards the three men before smirking slightly.

"You know, from my experience if men feel the need constantly put others down and act like the 'alpha', they're usually overcompensating for something" you knew men like this and you knew the best way to get to them was to bruise their ego.

One of the men glared at you, stepping closer, trying to intimidate you. You glanced down at his crotch with a look of disappointment and disapproval. "Looks like the math checks out" you smirked as you met his gaze again, not backing down.

"You little bitch" he growled.

Maybe you had underestimated him...you had thought they were just a couple of jerks, finding some fun in pushing a stranger around, but you had underestimated them. You never even saw it coming but the bastard had punched you. You hadn't expected him to actually violently act out like that. You thought you would bother them enough for them to just storm off, you had been very wrong.

The shout that left you was out of your control, hands coming up to clutch your face after the impact.

You stumbled backwards, knowing you had to get away from these men, but there was suddenly something in front of you. The large man with the mask had moved between you and the two men as soon as they lashed out, squaring his stance and glaring them down, fists clenching at his sides.

Thankfully, the two men came to their senses and realised that they couldn't take the larger man even if there was two of them. They tried not to show fear on their faces but failed as they muttered to themselves, hurrying back round to the front of the gas station.

"Ah shit" you cursed, clutching your bleeding nose.

The large man turned to you with wide eyes. What was he meant to do?

You pinched the soft part of your nose and tilted your head back like you heard you were supposed to do. The man quickly shook his head, stepping closer and cautiously touching your head, making you look down instead.

"Thank you" you thanked him for correcting you. "I've never been punched before" you confessed with a slightly bitter laugh. He didn't know what to do, so he just stood there, his feet shifting slightly in the dirt.

Once you had managed to dry your eyes that had started to water, you lifted your head slightly too look at the man. "Are you alright?" you asked, glancing down at your bloody hands once you stopped holding your nose.

The man just nodded, digging around in his pocket before pulling out some clean cloth, holding it out you.

You thanked him again as you accepted it, brining it up to your nose to soak up the blood.

"Is it broken?" you asked. Surely, you would know if it was broken? But he seemed more knowledgeable about this sort of thing that you were, you didn't even know that you shouldn't tilt your head back when your nose was bleeding.

The man hesitated before carefully lowering your hand, letting him examine your nose. Thankfully, he shook his head and you let out a sigh of relief.

You were about to ask his name but got interrupted by a call of your name. You recognised the voice, it was Ian.

"Back here!" you called back to them.

Ian and Cecilia came running around the corner, looking between you and the masked man, their eyes widening them they noticed the blood on your face and the cloth.

"What the hell did you do?" Cecilia snapped at the large man standing beside you, looking like she was ready to set Ian on him, not like he stood a chance if she did.

"Hey, leave him alone, he didn't do anything" you were quick to defend the man again. "Just some assholes" you told them.

"Christ, why are you always doing this sort of shit?" Ian rolled his eyes, seeming more irritated than concerned.

"I didn't know he was going to punch me. I was just trying to help" you muttered, feeling like you were being told off for doing something wrong when you just wanted to help.

"Well, the car is pretty much fucked and-" Ian began to change the subject, giving you an update on the car but he was interrupted by the back door of the gas station swinging open.

"Thomas, what is all this noise?" a older woman asked as she stepped outside. "What happened?" she asked, looking between the two of you, glancing over at your friends.

The man, Thomas as she called him, didn't answer, so you spoke up. "I'm really sorry, ma'am. There were some men causing trouble, I was trying to help but...guess I made things worse" you explained, pulling the cloth away from your nose, noting that the bleeding had slowed.

The woman looked between you and Thomas again, seeming to add things up in her mind. "You took a punch for my boy?" she asked, her expression softening slightly.

"Uh...I guess, just asked them to leave him alone. Guess I pushed it too far" you nodded.

"You with those two?" she asked, gesturing towards your friends, "with the busted car?"

You just nodded and she hummed to herself. Feeling a little uncomfortable, Ian and Cecilia moved closer, coming to stand just behind you.

"Alright well...for your trouble, how about you come stay at the house for the night, we can get someone to look at your car tomorrow morning" the woman offered, surprising you.

"Oh we couldn't intrude" you shook your head, hating to be a burden.

"I insist. It's the least we can do" she didn't look like she would take no for an answer.

"Only if you're certain" you looked back at your friends, who just shrugged, alright with the arrangement. "Thank you, this is very kind" you look back at her with a smile.

"I'm Luda May, this is my son Tommy" she introduced herself and the man that was awkwardly standing to the side now.

"I'm Y/n. This is my boyfriend, Ian, and my friend, Cecilia" you introduced your small group.

Tommy frowned under his mask. Boyfriend. Of course. It's not like he even dreamed of getting his hopes up, thinking your kindness was anything more than pity. Still, for some reason, it stung a little. He just couldn't explain why.

"Come on, dear, let me lock up and get you back to the house, get you cleaned up" Luda May offered, placing a hand on your arm comfortingly.

After Luda May locked up the gas station, you all walked back to their home. It was a large but somewhat run down house. Luda May guided you all inside and introduced you to Hoyt and Monty, two rather rude older men, but she had told you not to pay them any mind.

"Thomas, will you help Y/n clean up while I show them to their room?" Luda May asked as you all stepped out of the living room, leaving the two older men behind. Thomas seemed surprised by her request but nodded.

Ian and Cecilia were ushered up the stairs, taking your bag with them as well as their own, while you followed Thomas into the kitchen.

Thomas gestured for you to sit down on a chair and you did, while he grabbed a bowl of water and a clean cloth. He seemed nervous but determined to help, cautiously taking your hands in his to clean them.

You watched your hands, almost in amazement. They looked so small in his hands, he must have been able to break your arm just by holding on too hard.

"Can I call you Tommy?" you asked, breaking the silence. He paused for a moment, looking up from your hands to meet your gaze. He had nice eyes. He nodded. "Well, thank you, Tommy. I'm sorry about those men, I hate people like that. You'd think they'd grow out of it when they left school, but they don't" you sighed.

Thomas only nodded again, obviously not a talker but you didn't mind. He still seemed nice enough.

Once your hands were clean, Thomas moved to clean the blood from your face but you noticed how he paused, seeming nervous again. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable and you thought that was sweet. "It's alright" you assured him.

Gently placing his hand under your chin, Thomas angled your head up slightly, holding it in place as he wiped away the drying blood from your face. Making sure to be extra careful around your nose.

You stayed still, letting him work. He was a large man with strong arms and large hands, and yet he was being so gentle. Like he was afraid of hurting you. It made you smile a little.

Just as he finished cleaning you up, pulling his hands away from your face, Ian walked into the kitchen. "How's your nose?" he asked, walking over to you, glancing at Thomas suspiciously.

"Good, it's stopped bleeding" you told him with a smile. "Thomas said it's not broken, but it still hurts" you chuckled. It was sore but there was no real harm done.

"Just don't get what you were thinking" Ian huffed, shaking his head.

"Was just trying to help" you rolled your eyes, not in the mood for an argument.

"C'mon, he's like twice my size, I don't think he needs you defending him. I'm sure he could've took a couple of men" Ian scoffed, making Thomas tense again. He had been so relaxed around you, now he wanted to leave the room, feeling like he had done something wrong.

"Ian, stop being rude, you're being an ass" you told him, sounding tired.

"Fucking freak" he muttered under his breath, glancing at Thomas.

"Ian!" you snapped, eyes wide in shock and disgust. "What is wrong with you? Just get outta here" you stood, pointing towards the door. You didn't even want to look at him right now.

Ian just rolled his eyes before leaving the room, not seemed to care about your anger towards him.

"God, Thomas, I'm so sorry" you turned towards the masked man, looking genuinely apologetic and horrified by your boyfriend's behaviour. "I don't know what's been wrong with him lately...never used to be like this" you made a weak attempt at an explanation, sighing as you returned to your seat.

Thomas just shook his head, telling you not to worry about it, but you knew it had bothered him.

"Hey, I'll kick his ass for you as well, if you want" you offered with a playful smile, hoping to lighten the mood a little.

It worked, at least a little. Thomas smiled a little under his mask, you were cute and kind. He liked you and, if he didn't know any better, he would think that you liked him.

Luda May had provided the three of you with one room, the only spare room they had, but that was kind enough in your eyes. She had even invited you for supper with the family. All of you sitting around the table, you sitting between Thomas and Ian, as Luda May dished out the food.

It was a little awkward, eating with complete strangers, so you all mostly ate in silence. "So, where are you lot heading?" Luda May finally asked, breaking the silence and trying to start a pleasant conversation.

"Nowhere in particular" Cecilia shrugged, still being polite.

"Just taking a little road trip. Get away from things for a while, you know?" you added.

Ian and Cecilia had been glancing at Thomas whenever they were in the same room. From behind the gas station to right now at the dining table. You thought it was rude but as long as they didn't say anything stupid, you wouldn't comment on it.

Unfortunately, there was a lull in conversation and Ian thought he would speak up. "Alright. What's with the mask, anyway?" he asked, looking past you to Thomas.

"Ian" you warned through gritted teeth, in complete disbelief with him and frowning at Cecilia when she giggled to herself.

The Hewitt family was looking at Ian, glaring. Thomas had tensed beside you. Shit, how do you save this one?

"Did you make it yourself?" you asked, turning your full attention to Thomas. He just nodded, staring down at his plate, assuming you were going to beginning mocking him. "That's pretty impressive, it looks good. You must be pretty handy" you complimented with a smile. Thomas looked at you with surprise in his eyes but smiled, as did Luda May.

Ian muttered something under his breath that you couldn't understand. You just ignored him, not wanting to risk him causing more trouble.

The rest of the supper was uneventful and you had thanked the family once again before everyone started to turn in for the night.

You had taken a shower before bed. When you returned to the bedroom, you frowned when you saw that both Ian and Cecilia were gone. With a sigh, you left the room and began to search for them.

You couldn't find them anywhere in the house so you stepped outside, onto the front porch. Once you were outside, you heard movement and followed it. Hopping down the steps of the porch and wandering around the side of the house. Maybe they had stepped out for a smoke? You thought Ian had quit, maybe he hadn't...

You followed noise until you heard what sounded like a moan. You frowned and turned the corner, freezing at the sight that greeted you.

Ian was pinning Cecilia up against the side of the house, her bare leg hooked over his hip, his pants bunched down under his ass. They clearly hadn't noticed you.

"What the hell!" you shouted, getting their attention.

They both jumped apart, Ian pulling up his pants and Cecilia fixing her skirt, looking horrified. "Shit" Ian cursed.

"Yeah. Shit" you scoffed. "Are you seriously fucking my best friend?" you asked rhetorically, wondering how he was going to try to talk his way out of this one. He didn't speak. "And you're fucking my boyfriend?" you looked to Cecilia, who looked down at her feet. "Will somebody answer me!" you were tired of being ignored.

"Yes!" Ian snapped, making you flinch. "Obviously that's what we were doing" he rolled his eyes, knowing he couldn't lie his way out of this one.

"...how long as this been going on?" you asked.

"About a month" Ian shrugged.

"I can't believe you!" you shouted at him, tears stinging your eyes. You were furious, more from the betrayal than anything. Ian had become a jerk over the last few months but now you were losing your boyfriend and your best friend.

"Look, we can talk this out, alright?" Ian approached you, going to place his hand on your shoulder.

"Don't touch me" you snarled, stepping back. How could he even think that you would be willing to 'talk this out'.

"What the fuck is all the shouting?" Hoyt's angry voice boomed as he rounded the corner.

"God, you are a fucking asshole" you ignored Hoyt, glaring at Ian. "I hope you're real happy together, you deserve each other" you spat before turning around, walking past Hoyt, who watched you leave with an irritated expression.

By the time you had made it back inside the house, tears were rolling down your cheeks. Thomas had been coming to find the cause of all the shouting, nearly running straight into you.

"Oh, uh, sorry Thomas" you apologised as you nearly collided with his chest. You kept your head down, hoping he hadn't seen the tears. But he did, and he worried that you had been hurt, had Hoyt hurt you? He swore he heard Hoyt shouting.

Without thinking, Thomas gently took hold of your shoulders and examined you. You were confused by his actions at first but when you realised what he was doing, you smiled a little.

"I'm not hurt, Tommy" you chuckled, sniffing slightly. He looked so concerned for you, it was sweet. You couldn't remember the last time Ian had looked at you like that when you cried. "So, uh...Ian really is an ass" you laughed bitterly, wiping away some tears. "...he's been cheating on me with Cecilia" you told him, explaining the cause of your tears.

Thomas could kill him. You were so kind and sweet, putting yourself in harms way for a complete stranger. How could he do something like this to you? How could he or your friend betray you like that.

Both of you could hear shouting coming from outside again, it sounded like Hoyt and Ian were arguing.

"Oh god" you groaned, embarrassed by everything that had happened. "I'm so sorry, we shouldn't be bothering you all with this" you were crying again, and getting frustrated with yourself.

Thomas wasn't sure what to do, people didn't normally like being around him but you didn't seem to mind, so maybe you wouldn't mind him comforting you as well. His movements were slow and careful, guiding you closer to him and wrapping his arms around you.

As soon as you realised he was offering you a comforting hug, you accepted it. You wrapped your arms around his waist, just needing somebody to hold you, as you cried into his chest. Feeling more confident, Thomas wrapped his arms around you more securely. His arms were large and strong, making you feel safe. His body practically engulfed yours, making you fell like the world couldn't touch you. It was a nice feeling.

"Thomas?" Luda May asked, also coming to investigate the commotion. "What is all that shouting about...are you alright, dear?" her attention turned to you when she saw that you were crying.

"I, uh..." you sniffled as you pulled away from Thomas, wiping your wet cheeks. You looked up at him and he nodded, reassuring you that you weren't being a burden. "I think Hoyt and Ian are arguing about something outside" you told her.

"Is that why you're crying?" she frowned. Has Hoyt decided to pick a fight even when she had warned him not too?

You shook your head. "...I caught Ian cheating on me with Cecilia" you sniffled again.

"Oh...I'm so sorry" Luda May's expression softened once again. Something flashed behind her yes but it was too quick to name.

"Thomas, will you go and help Hoyt?" Luda May asked calmly, looking up at her son. Thomas squinted at her and she nodded.

Thomas gave you a soft look before leaving through the front door. You didn't like the idea of other people dealing with your problems, but you couldn't argue because Luda May already had your attention again.

"Come on, dear" she took your hand, leading you to the living room and sitting down with you on the couch.

"I'm so, so sorry. You've all been so generous and my friends have been rude and now we're being so disruptive. I'm so sorry" you apologised. This family had tried to be so kind to you all and now you were being completely disrespectful.

"Hush now, it's not your fault" Luda May cooed, gently guiding your head to lay against her shoulder, beginning to stroke your hair. "Tommy and Hoyt will take care of them" she promised.

You just nodded, trying to stop the tears. You were too worked up to dwell on what Luda May meant exactly, just letting her hum and soothe you.

Luda May smiled as she stroked your hair, humming the same tune she would hum to shush Thomas when he was a child. You seemed pleasant, polite and kind. You would make a good addition to the family and you were so good to Tommy. Of course, she had seen how her son looked at you, amazed by your sincere kindness, already falling for you, the poor boy. Your so called friends did not deserve any kindness, but you deserved mercy.

Oh, she hoped you could forgive Tommy, she hoped you would continue to see him as the sweet boy he is.

[genshinwritings]

Pregnancy Headcanons || Zhongli & Diluc

Thank you guys a lot for loving the other pregnancy headcanons ♥ I hope this satisfies your needs, haha~ 

____________________________________________________________

Zhongli

 Zhongli knew that there was something wrong with you. You were avoiding him almost strategically. Whenever you had to meet up with him you made sure that another person was around so you would not have to talk to him about private things. He often pretended that everything was fine in front of other people but deep inside he was longing to know what was wrong with you. Usually you would come around in the morning or in the evening to visit him but within the blink of an eye everything had changed. He didn’t see you daily anymore, whenever he came you left right away. He didn’t know what he had done or said to you that made you react like that but he surely knew that his heart shattered whenever a day passed where he did not talk to you.

 He had thought about the circumstances of your relationship and the possibility of anyone threatening you to stay away, yet he could not think about anyone who would profit from keeping you away from him. He felt devastated and he did not know what to do, he had handled a lot of situations with women before but never in his life had his partner avoided him without having an obvious reason to do so.

 It was late at night when you returned home, a small shock running down your spine as you felt another presence in your flat. You knew that it was him right away. You sighed defeated as you stepped into the living room, Zhongli neatly seated in the arm chair while sipping on a cup of earl grey. “Guess you’ve been expecting me..” You mumbled as you kicked off your shoes, an uneasy feeling tumbling in your stomach.  Zhongli’s eyes focused on yours as you nervously fumbled with your fingers, knowing that he was going to confront you now about the way you behaved the last couple days.

 “Would you mind sharing your knowledge with me as of why you are avoiding me?” He spoke low and calmly before blowing cold air to his tea, taking a sip while his eyes never left yours. You had been trying to avoid this conversation with him rather than you had tried to avoid him in general, yet you knew that you had to talk to him about what was going on. “I’m sorry when I hurt you with ignoring you.” You started to whisper, your gaze falling to the ground. “I did a mistake, a pretty big one and I did not want to bother you with it. I’m stupid and you’re going to hate me for it.”

Zhongli raised an eyebrow at your words, placing the cup of tea down on the wooden table in front of him before standing up. He had to admit that he was severely confused upon hearing your words, not being able to think about anything you could have done wrong.  Nevertheless, a mistake that would make him hate you. The thought of you being unfaithful crossed his mind, yet he knew that you would never do that, he trusted you too much. “Hey..” He whispered softly, firm hands placing on your shoulders as he leaned down to press a loving kiss to your forehead. “I can’t think of any reason that would possibly make me hate you and I’m sure whatever you have done is neither worse than the things I did in the past..” His voice was calm and soothing your nerves, a small relieved sigh slipping past your lips as your arms wrapped loosely around his middle, leaning your forehead against his chest.

“I’m pregnant..” You whispered into the fabric of his coat, your arms around him tightening as the fear of him pushing you away spread in your stomach. You could feel your heart clench as seconds of utter silence passed, almost feeling like an eternity. You had been more than afraid to see his reaction when you told him, after all he had been with several other partners before who did not let a mistake like that happen.

Zhongli was shocked by your words to say the least, never in his life had he expected this to be the reason why you had avoided him for days. He had prepared himself for the worst already but this was far from what he had expected.

 “First off..” He spoke calmly while his arms wrapped around your body to pull you close, one of his hands finding its way to the back of your head to reassuringly caress you hair. “The amount of love I carry in my heart for you makes it impossible for me to hate you. Whereas secondly, there’s always two people involved when it comes to this..” He leaned down to press a small kiss to the side of your head, his strong hand running over your back. He felt your body shivering and trembling in his arms, pulling slightly away from the hug before lifting up your chin between his thumb and index finger to look at you. He saw the sorrows in your eyes along with the fear of rejection, his heart craving for you to understand that he was not mad at all. “I love you, I really do. How could I ever thank you for a surprise as magnificent as this one?”

He smiled softly as he leaned in to catch your lips in a gentle but firm kiss. Even though he had never thought about becoming a father himself, the idea of it sounded more than tempting, especially with you as the mother. He could feel the warmth in his heart again as you relaxed into his touch, a small chuckle leaving your lips as you parted. “I know you’re far from being overly excited but- I love you too and I hope you know that I’m more than happy.” You hummed sweetly, pressing another kiss to his lips.

 Zhongli is going to spend all the free time he has to be by your side, always making sure that you’ve got everything you needed. Whenever he can’t come around or has to stay away from you for a while, he will tell the old people in the village to come and look after you. He does not trust a lot of people when it comes to knowing about your pregnancy, he does not want you or your unborn child to be exposed to unknown danger, trying to keep the possibility of anything happening to you as small as possible.

With time he will slowly get used to the thought of becoming a father, often talking to you about the things he’s going to do when your baby was finally born. He bought a lot of children’s books, telling you that he’s planning to read them a bedtime story every night so they might become as interested in books as he is. He will tell you how he’s going to teach them about the culture in Liyue and how he can’t wait to take them out, to show them the most beautiful places. Whenever he is talking about the future and about your baby, you can see a sparkle of happiness in his eyes and you can hear how proud he is from the way he speaks.

Diluc

 Everyone knew that Diluc was not the most sincere person when it came to talking, especially not when they were involved with the Knights of Favonius. With you it had always been a different thing, you had gotten to know him when you first arrived in Mondstadt, even before you had made up the thought of joining the Knights. It was a quiet evening when you sat at the bar of Mondstadt’s tavern, Diluc casually working while he was, of course, not the best partner for a conversation. He had told you about some of the people in the city and recommended who you could talk to and who you should avoid if possible. You noticed his disliking for the Knights of Favonius right away, yet you did not dare to ask him about it back then. You visited him frequently at the tavern, pretending to be there for personal reasons rather than only to talk to him. Even after you had joined the Knights, Diluc still treated you the same as before. He told you that he did not like your decision but he somehow found a liking to talk to you which was the reason why he would ignore that small fact about you. After meeting up in the tavern for weeks, he had invited you to go on a date with him or asked you whether you wanted to at least meet him somewhere more private.

 You had spent a lot of time with Diluc over the next few months, always making sure that you would stop by at the winery when you were around or him visiting you in town when you returned from a mission. You never needed words to describe your relationship, the both of you just knew that you belonged together. Whenever you were around Diluc was happy, outgoing and almost a man with a soft side. He made sure to never show this side of himself to anyone but you though, always making you laugh when he switched from being soft to being a meanie.

Diluc noticed it quickly when your behavior around him changed. You weren’t as outgoing anymore, often canceling your missions shortly before departing or asking someone else to go for you. It got to the point where even Kaeya asked him what had happened to you that you were often trying to avoid your responsibilities as a Knight. It was slowly getting to Diluc’s nerves, you suddenly changing this much and more than that, you not being around as much as you were before.

He had told his brother that he wanted to talk to you at the winery, for once finding it okay to ask Kaeya for a favor, something he would never usually do. You were surprised as the Cavalry Captain told you about his brothers message for you, a small shock running down your spine. You had tried to avoid to talk to Diluc for a while, yet you knew that he was far from being stupid and that he would see through your act right away.

Diluc was relieved to see you when you arrived at the winery in the evening, a soft smile planted on his lips as he welcomed you at the door before taking you up to his private apartment. You could feel your heart jump with joy upon seeing Diluc’s smile, the last few days had been unbearable as you had tried to stay away from him. Being able to look at him again, to feel his rough hand in yours as he led you through the building, it all made you feel utterly happy.

“I was almost afraid that I did something wrong that you weren’t visiting me anymore.” He spoke lowly before chuckling softly, squeezing your hand in his. “Would you like to drink anything?” He asked you as he let go of your hand, a small smile on your lips as you followed him through the apartment to the kitchen, your arms crossing in front of your chest. “I’ll be fine with grape juice.” You spoke as you leaned in the doorframe, Diluc stopping in his steps upon hearing your words. He looked at you confused and raised an eyebrow, tilting his head lightly to the side. “You sure you want no wine? It’s unsual for you to be satisfied with only juice..” He laughed shortly. Whenever you two met, wine was your usual go to drink but right now you didn’t think of it as properly and appropriate for your situation.

“Well, it’s not allowed to drink any alcohol when you’re pregnant, so I guess.. I have to go with grape juice.” You shrugged your shoulders playfully before taking the glass from his hand, his eyes growing big. He stood there dumbfounded, not knowing whether you were joking or not, stupidly both suited the situation. “Are you joking right now?” He almost whispered, his eyes focusing on yours as a bright smirk formed on your lips. Diluc could feel himself growing mad on the inside because you were playing with him but at the same time he felt a deep hope in his heart that you would tell him that you were not joking.

“I’m not joking, you’re going to be a father..” You mumbled, the smile never vanishing from your lips. You knew everything about Diluc’s complicated past but you also knew that he was going to be an excellent father no matter what. Adding to that he had often fantasized about becoming a father since your relationship had become more serious. He could feel his heart skip a beat as he listened to your words, placing down his glass before cupping your face in his hands, leaning in to quickly press a kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He whispered softly in between multiple small kisses, one of his arms wrapping around your hips to hold you close. “Thank you so much, my love. For everything. For coming into my life and changing everything to the better.”

 Diluc is going to be as caring as he always is when it comes to you. Always making sure that he was around when you woke up and when you fell asleep. During the day he was often occupied with his own work but whenever you felt bad or asked him to stay with you, he did as you wished. He was more than happy about your pregnancy, the proud feeling of soon becoming a father storming through his veins. Whenever someone asked him about your pregnancy there was always warm smile on his lips as he stayed silent about the circumstances. He had no problem with letting anyone know about it as long as it did not put you into danger somehow. 

[samwilsonsbabymama]

Not Slippery Enough

Pairing: Gray!Bucky Barnes x Black Reader (18+)

Summary: You leave Bucky one night after finding out that you’re pregnant and return to your hometown. After a few months of thinking that Bucky has let you go, he makes an appearance at your neighborhood block party and reminds you that you can never get away from him.

Warnings: forced pregnancy, stalking, maybe a cuss word or two

Word Count: > 1,300

A/N: So this is my first dark/gray full fic and im really nervous about it lol It’s based on this ask that I sent the lovely @sapphirescrolls​ and a big thanks to @mariahthelioness29​ for everything!!!!! (you should check out both of their masterlists! you won’t regret it!)

✨I don’t give anyone permission to copy/translate/repost/rewrite my work. Minors, DNI at all. ✨

✨ Add yourself to my taglist  ✨  

💕Please let me know what you think! 💕

You sighed as you laid next to Bucky once again, something you’d promised to never do again. You had sworn that you were done with him, but every time he came around, you forgot your promise.

You glanced at the clock beside you. 

2:07 am

You sighed, if you could just get out of his hold, you’d be able to leave. For good this time.

You held your breath as you gently peeled his fingers from your waist and you paused when he shifted in his sleep. You held your breath and waited for him to settle before you began to move again. 

When you were finally free of his hold, you wasted no time pulling your clothes back on. You silently chastised yourself as you searched for your keys and your stomach dropped when you spotted them on the nightstand next to where Bucky was sleeping. You chewed your lip for a few seconds before you felt yourself moving closer to his side.

Time stood still as you inched closer to the sleeping man and it felt as if fate was on your side when your fingers wrapped around your key.

You glanced back at the clock.

2:11 am

You hesitated for a few seconds and thought about what you were doing. Was this the right thing? Should you wait until the morning and talk to Bucky?

You shook your head, you knew that if you talked to Bucky, he would try to convince you to stay. Part of you knew that what you were doing was wrong, but you would never get another chance like this again. Now was your time to leave.

After one last look at Bucky, you slowly made your way to the front door and out of his life for good.

After leaving Bucky that night, you made your way back to your hometown, a place you hadn’t been for years, and a place you were sure Bucky knew nothing about.

Your friends and family were surprised when you returned, but welcomed you back with open arms. Shortly after arriving, you found yourself back in a familiar routine, and after a few short months, you were able to relax enough to not feel the need to look over your shoulder anymore.

You loved your hometown in the summer, specifically for the block parties. You hadn’t been to a block party in years and you were excited to go to one. With it being hot out, you opted to wear one of your favorite sundresses. Before you left, you gave yourself a quick look in the mirror and walked out the door.

When you arrived at the party, you were in high spirits. You greeted everyone as you made your way to your friends.

“How are you doing?” your childhood friend, Aisha, asked after giving you a hug.

“Amazing,” you replied with a smile on your face. 

“We need to get you something to eat, Y/n,” Kesha said before she stood to go get you a plate.

“I’m good, Kesha,” you protested, but it was already too late, she was already headed towards the food table to fix you a plate.

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until Kesha placed your plate in front of you and your stomach growled. You listened to your two friends gossip as you ate.

“Have you seen him?” Kesha asked, drawing you back into the conversations.

You quirked your eyebrow in question.

“Girl, you haven’t heard?” she responded. “Someone bought the old Hillman’s place a few months ago and he moved in like two weeks ago, and when I tell you that he is fine, believe me.”

You chuckled, “I heard that someone had bought their property, but I didn’t know they had already moved in.” You reached over to grab yourself a drink from the cooler. “What does he look like?”

“Delicious,” Kesha, responded causing everyone to laugh. “Say I’m lying.”

“Nah, you right,” Aisha responded. “Let me tell you, Y/n, when this man came into my parent’s store the other day, I ‘bout fell out. My sister had to ring him up ‘cause I forgot how to speak.”

“Damn,” you chuckled. “You still haven’t told me what he looks like, though.”

“Right, well he…” she began, but she stopped short and her eyes glazed over. “He’s right over there.” 

You turned and followed her gaze and your heart dropped.

“Bucky?” you whispered.

“Damn, you know him?” Kesha asked as the three of you stared at the man.

You watched as he handed the dessert he was carrying to your old babysitter, Mrs. Miller before he bent down to give her a hug. You watched as he flashed her his mega-watt smile as the older woman fussed over him. 

You watched as he play fought with a few of the neighborhood kids and dapped up some of the men. You shook your head and took a few steps back as he made his way through the crowd, stopping to talk to everyone in his path.

From what you heard, he had only been there for a few weeks and he had managed to worm his way into the hearts of everyone in town.

“You good, Y/n?” you heard Kesha ask.

“How did he find me?” you responded. “Shit, I gotta go.” You began to grab your belongings and started making your way back to your car. 

You ignored the buzzing of your phone as you stuck your key in the ignition and turned. Your heart sank when nothing happened. Desperation forced you to try again only to be met with the same result. You banged your fist on your steering wheel and cried out in frustration.

“Fuck,” you whispered and your shoulders shook as you cried. You needed to get away, but how? You had just reached for your phone when you felt your car shift causing you to look where the movement came from.

You followed Bucky’s movements as he walked to your side of the car. Your heart thudded in your chest as he smirked at you through the window. Your hands tensed around the steering wheel when he knocked on the window and you shook your head ‘no’. His smirk bloomed into a smile and he reached for the door handle. Your breathing increased when you heard the metal from the lock snap and you shuddered when Bucky knelt down beside you.

“You’re a slippery one, Y/n,” he said. He placed his hand on your exposed knee and you attempted to move away from him. “But not slippery enough.”

“Bucky, please,” you begged as his grip tightened on your knee.

“You left,” he stated. His blue eyes were zeroed in on you and you shifted in your seat. “Get out of the car.” You shook your head and he sighed. 

Before you could process what was happening, Bucky unbuckled your seatbelt and pulled you out of the car. You exclaimed at the sudden movement and you cowered as Bucky towered over you.

“You left,” he repeated, his voice much deeper than before. “Why?”

You shuddered and closed your eyes as he pressed his body closure to yours. You felt him stiffen, and a split second later, he pulled away from you. Even with your eyes closed, you felt the heat of his gaze as he dragged his eyes down to your stomach.

The seconds dragged on as Bucky stared at you. There was no hiding it anymore. No more hiding from him.

“You’re pregnant.” Your eyes flew open at his statement. The look of elation on his face threw you for a loop. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” he rested his large hand on your stomach.

You blinked up at him in confusion.

“Do you know,” he began, “how many nights I spent buried deep inside of you, pumping my cum into you while you were sleeping?” 

Your stomach flipped at his words and you tried to sidestep him but he blocked you in. “You’re not leaving me again.”

A/N 2: If you ‘liked’ it, please reblog and/or leave a comment, even if it’s an emoji or two. It would mean so much to me!

[tokoyamisstuff]

Scandal Ch. 1 - Loki x Reader

Summary: After your child is born a Frost Giant, your husband accuses you of infidelitiy, unaware about his own heritage...

Warnings: Pregnancy, Childbirth, Angst, Mild Cussing

Noteable: Takes place before Thor 1, Asgardian Fem! Reader

Words: ~1800

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

It was as if your anchestors wanted to deliver a warning, for Asgard had never faced a storm matching this fateful afternoon.

The thunder swallowed all of your screams and cries, every curse you spoke with each contraction as the baby made it’s way into this world. All this time, your precious husband would never leave your side, letting you squeeze his hand as much as you needed.

“Only a little bit more, my Lady!” the midwife shoutet from between your legs, her tone calm yet cheerful. “I can already see the head!”

“I’m right here. You’re doing wonderful, my petal.” Loki was softly petting your hair, pressing a wet kiss into your forehead. “You are incredibly strong, Y/N. And I love you so much!”

Remaining collected was using up all of his energy at that very moment, you knew that much. Yet not even the God of Lies could hide all the helplessness and excitement stirring in his head at that very moment.

Being with the Prince of Asgard was just like in a dream.

Once you get to know him, that troublesome arrogant lone wolf turned into a smart, caring - and especially charming - prince. And hel, Loki treated you like a Queen.

All this pain you were experiencing right now would ultimately lead to the greatest bliss imagineable - just like it was with Loki.

Oh, how dearly you had fought, suffered, yearned for him, only to be rewarded with heartbreak and frustration. In between his feverishly chase for the throne and his rivalry with Thor, there was just no room for a loving relationship to grow.

The crushing weight of thinking himself unworthy for affection had made him cold and bitter over the millenias, telling himself the comforting lie that he was above all, born for a glorious purpose.

For the God of Mischief, whose kinsmen had always made him feel out of place or under-appreciated, the process of trusting had always been one step forward, three steps back.

But through your compassion, and with a great deal of patience and understanding, you slowly but steadily melted the ice around the prince’s heart.

Because deep inside, you always knew that it was worth it.

And today would be the peak of your romance: Your child would forever remind the Odinson that he belonged somewhere - right here, with you.

“It’s a boy!”

“A heir?!” Loki exclaimed, smothering your face in kisses. “Well done!”

You smiled weakly at his excitement, in between choked sobs. All that your exhausted self was able to process was the fact that your child is born - and you already loved him beyond reason.

“Where is he?!” you whimpered, unable to realize how the air in the room had shifted - for when the midwife touched the infant, she began to scream in agony.

“What’s wrong?!” Loki’s eyes were narrowing at the midwife that almost dropped his newborn, detecting some sort of burn wound on her palm. Quickly, she had covered the boy in a towel, aware that if any harm came over that baby, she was to die at the God of Mischief’s hands.

A flash of lightning was brightening the whole room, which had only been flooded by dim candle light until now.

Another one of the midwife’s screeched in terror, almost stumbling as she frantically erscaped your bedchamber. The adrenaline from birth and worry about your child sharpened your senses, yet concentration was almost impossible.

Still, the words she was yelling as she ran down the hall send a shiver down your spine:

“It’s a monster.”

Your head was spinning as you rushed into an upright position, with two nurses pressing you onto the bed again. “Milady, you need to rest! It’s still too early!”

“What is wrong with my child?!?” you desperately screamed, kicking with your legs to free yourself from their hold. “Give it to me!”

Their expressions were too much to bear. Your head was spinning, seeing pity mixing up with disgust and anger in their eyes.

“Enough!” Loki finally broke his own silence, his mind having been occupied with all the horror scenarios one could think about.

Walking up to the midwife carrying the infant, he demanded seeing it. “Your highness, don’t-” yet the midwife’s beg was for naught.

Yes, everything will be alright. Loki will take care of it, like he always does. After all, he’s your savior, your hero, the love of your life...

Gently and insecure, your husband cradled the newborn in his arms - a sight to behold. And the baby’s strong cries assured you that it was at least alive.

However, as soon as he dared to unwrap the towel, revealing it’s face, Loki’s heartbeat completely stopped for a second. His trembling lip began to shake, mouth widely agape as he took in the child’s form.

For a brief moment, his mind was completely blank. All emotion dropped from his face before taking in a complete different demeanour.

“Wha-” you wouldn’t dare ending that sentence when your husband’s furious eyes met yours.

The air was so thick, you thought not even Thor’s hammer could break it. Clearly ritten on Loki’s usual unreadable face were so many emotions at once:

Aversion, fury, incredible sorrow...all directed towards you? The child?

Impossible.

Loki Odinson loved you more than anything in this world, this was the only thing you had always been sure he wasn’t lying about.

“From all the people I expected to betray me...” His voice was hoarse, as if the ache in his heart was wrapping around his throat. “Why did it have to be you?”

You could feel the horrendous aura, a wave of sadness and despair coming from your husband. Seeing him like this was like torture.

“What- what do you mean, darling-”

“Don’t fucking call me that, you harlot!” That was surely not the first time your lover had raised your voice against you - he could be a bit difficult at times, obviously.

But this time was different somehow. It sounded so...ultimate.

And the Loki you knew would never use such harsh words against you!

“Please, I beg of you...just let me see my baby!” Everything was just too much for you, almost to the point of passing out. 

And the man did as you pleaded, almost shoving the child into your arms. “There, have your bastard! And make sure to never show your filthy faces to me ever again!”

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving you with those strange nurses looking at you like you’ve just commited an unforgiveable crime.

There was no use in overthinking this. He’ll come back like he always did. You can work this out, whatever it is - even if you are gonna be mad for a very long time, making such a fuss and then disappearing instead of taking care of you, the mother of his child.

Out of a whim, you decided to finally observe the little being you’ve been waiting for all those months.

A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you realized just why everyone was so worked up about that little boy. Yet the sound you made was solely surprised - not a hint of fear or rejection laced your voice.

It was a beautiful baby boy, little fists balled to the air as if he was searching for the warmth of his parents - though his skin was in the shade of a dark blue. When you dared running your hand over the deep lines and ridges on his body, the stinging pain of frostbite immediately stung your fingertips. His eyes snapped open, looking at you with black irises through red scleras.

You knew the meaning of this, even though you didn’t understand how this was possible: This child was a biological Frost Giant. A small one, but nonetheless.

A curse? Was someone trying to play your family dirty? No. If that was the case, the child wouldn’t also have actual powers together with the appearance.

Just how long have those tears been running down your cheeks in thick streams already? You wouldn’t know.

Only one thing came as clear as daylight to you: You loved this baby, more than anything in this world. And no matter the hardships that came along with it - you would protect him, no matter what!

“He’s magnificent...” you sniffled, pecking some quick kisses onto his small body before the cold could hurt you. “I love you so, so much...!”

Not minding the judging looks of the nurses, let alone wondering about the consequences, resolve was starting to give you new strenght.

The boy got a grasp on your finger, and instead of your skin freezing off as expected, your magic allowed him to the boy to finally disguise itself as one of you. How was this even possible? Well, this is probably the first time something like this ever happened, so no one could prepare you for what to expect with this child.

They all say that birth was an impactful event - but nothing could’ve prepared you for everything that you had to endure on this day.

Yet nothing could’ve stopped you from believing that this child was the greatest blessing that ever came over you.

Now you only had to convince your husband of that very fact...

“Y/N Y/L/N!” the guard wouldn’t even bother adressing you with your full title as his harsh voice woke you up. When had you drifted away into slumber anyway? You were probably way more worn out than you wanted to admit...

Your eyes immediately snapped open, heart skipping a beat until you saw that your son was still sleeping soundly right next to you. Stroking his cheek as he smiled up to you, it almost made you forget about that burdensome situation.

“Hey!” Protectingly, you were holding onto your child for dear life as the guard approached both of you. “I have an important message to deliver!”

You scowled, almost like an animal mother protecting their offsprings with baring teeth, even though you knew in that state you would be completely and utterly helpless. “Why now? What could be more important than the well-being of my child?”

The answer let your blood run cold:

“I am here to announce that Lady Y/N Y/L/N has to face a trial in front of the Allfather. The following crimes she is being accused of: Infidelity, collaboration with the enemy and trying to sneak one of them into our glorious kingdom.”

[cr0wbonezz-wr1ting-inc]

One more time

Summary: Alex regrets ever saying yes. All he wants is a second chance.

Trigger warning: Mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, swearing, angst

Author's note: my first piece off hiatus !! - you're a twitch streamer in this fic but it won't come up too much :) hope u like it <3

Based on: Break My Heart Again - FINNEAS

you sigh. your ex-boyfriend called again. you've been ignoring your phone for 5 minutes now. was he really this desperate?

you pick up your phone and slide the green button.

"what do you want, alex?"

"___, you picked up!"

he sounded extremely relieved, like he needs you to breathe.

"i did, now what do you want?"

alex sighed and leaned on a wall in his bedroom.

"can i come over? there's some stuff i still need to pick up."

you suck in a breath sharply. the air is thick and tense.

"no."

you clench the phone you were holding and bit your lip.

"i don't want to see you right now."

alex closed his eyes and pushed himself off the wall.

"i understand, you need time."

there was silence for a moment. neither of you wanted to say anything.

"if you want to come over that bad you can get your things tomorrow morning."

"sounds good. i'll be there around 11, okay?"

"fine."

"good-"

you ended the call.

"-bye..."

alex let his arm drop beside him. his eyes were watering, but he wiped it away with the sleeve of his hoodie.

it's his fault, he knew. but why is he still so upset? he shouldn't feel like this - it's is his own doing, after all.

~

you open the door to your home. alex was standing on the porch with a few empty bags in hand. the morning sun blinded you slightly, making you squint at the man in front of you.

"hi ___."

"hello, alex. all your belongings are on the couch.

"great, thank you."

~

he looks over as he's folding a shirt.

"what are you looking at?"

you say without looking away from your laptop.

his face was getting red slightly from embarrassment.

"nothing, you seem busy."

alex directed his eyes back to the clothes in front of him.

"otherwise you would've said something about me."

alex snickered slightly, trying to lighten the mood.

you sigh, holding your face in one of your hands.

don't say it. ___, keep it in. there's no point in fighting him. ___-

"if i wanted to make a comment it'd be about the fact you can't keep your dick in your pants."

god damn it, why did you do that?

he fell quiet. you hated his guts, but even you felt kind of bad for being so blunt with it.

a part of you still loved him. his loud, yet charming laugh. his sweet kisses. his adorable clinginess. his blushing face when you teased him.

you shake your head, trying to physically get rid of your pity for him. he doesn't love you anymore. he shouldn't, and neither should you.

~

after filling the bags with alex's belongings he stood up and wiped his forehead. you waver from your work and look him up and down.

"you done?"

you asked him. he turned around and gave you a weak smile.

"yeah, i think so."

"good, you know the way out."

you turn back to your computer.

"___, wait. can i ask you something?"

you make eye contact with him, fully aware it makes him nervous.

"what do you want?"

alex took a quick breath.

"can we talk sometime?"

you look at him like he spoke an alien tongue.

"why the hell would i?"

"i want to talk about what happened between us. i hate that our relationship is so sour."

he set a step forward.

"i just want this to end peaceful - or at least neutral."

"why the fuck would i want to be peaceful with you of all people?"

"i hate ending things on the wrong foot, you know that."

alex stands his ground, making you livid.

"then we make up, and then what? you'll just break my heart again!"

you stand up, simultaneously pushing the chair away with your legs.

"then i can lay awake and think about why i even let you inside my house again in the first place?!"

if looks could kill, alex would be on the floor.

"fine. if you don't want to, then i guess everything will just stay the way it is."

alex turned around and grabbed his bags. there's no way he's getting through to you right now.

"oh, so now it's my fault?"

you slam your laptop and walk away from the table.

"well, i'm so sorry for being angry at you for cheating on me!"

you don't hold your anger in anymore, he crossed the line.

"i never said that, ___!"

alex yelled to match your energy.

you took a step back. the audacity to yell at you in your house.

"out. now."

alex grabbed the second bag of clothes and without a word walked to the front door.

"goodbye, ___."

alex pushes the door open and steps outside. you go after him but stop at the doorstep.

"fuck you!" you sob out. you grab the doorknob and slam the door shut.

your knees slowly got weaker and you sit against the front door, shutting your eyes.

~

it's been a month since you've seen alex. you've blocked him on everything since then.

you were doing a q&a on your twitch channel and everything was going well. chat was filled with questions and you answered the one's you could.

your thoughts were somewhere else, though.

you still miss him, you really did. alex used to watch your streams all the time. he sent you donations with cheesy pick-up lines, he called you during streams to make fun of you for dying in a game or just to chat while he's bored.

but that didn't happen anymore.

you realize you haven't said anything in a while and you apologize. your chat was spamming purple hearts and 'are you okay?'

"ah, sorry everyone, i'm still tired from yesterday. i think i'm going to end the stream for today, thank you all for coming!"

after saying goodbye you turn off your computer.

why are you still so obsessed over him?! he cheated on you! he even tried to cover it up with a bullshit story about "not being the first to kiss her," and "she forced me to," like someone would believe a lie like that.

yet, you still love him. something inside you wants to believe him, like he really was telling the truth.

~

the next morning you open twitter and scroll for a bit. you made a tweet earlier in which you stated you weren't going to stream today.

you looked at the trending topics and saw your name in bold letters. you clicked on it and read the first tweet that popped up.

'i really hope ___ is doing better, they looked so sad on stream :('

an image was attached to it - a screenshot from the stream you did yesterday where you were mindlessly staring at your computer screen.

you sighed. at least they're not thinking too deep about this.

you scroll further down, replying and liking a couple tweets saying you were alright, thanking them or cracking a joke. this should keep them off your back for a while.

after scrolling for a bit one tweet catches your eye. you clutch your phone as you read the comment.

'kinda obvious they miss quackity :/ it's a good cover-up story tho '

~

alex was staring at his ceiling. he'd seen the tweets about you - about him.

he hates this feeling. he hates the fact that he knows what you're thinking. he hates that he knows it's his fault. he didn't mean to. he didn't.

"come on, alex. you know you want it." the woman said.

"i told you, no! i have a partner!" alex pushed her away for the second time, trying to find a way past the girl and out of this small alleyway. he should've never gone to this stupid bar.

"tch, whatever. but know you'll regret rejecting someone like me!" the girl pushed him to the brick wall and fixed her dress as she walked away.

alex fixed himself for a minute and walked past the bar and into his car. he pulled out his phone and shot you a quick text.

'hey bb i'll be over in a few :)'

'don't come back.'

you responded almost immediately. alex froze as he looked at the screen.

'wdym?'

'you know damn well why'

you sent him a photo of him next to the bar in the alley. the girl was all over him while her lips connected lustfully to his.

'it isn't what it looks like, i didn't start any of this!'

you don't respond. alex tries to send you another text when an error pops up.

'unable to send message. user has blocked you.'

~

you hover your hand over your phone's keyboard. you thought anbout alex's offer to talk, and decided that maybe it was a good idea after all. you couldn't get your mind off him, you thought that hopefully getting some closure could help.

but how were you going to ask him? 'hey, i know i blocked number like a month ago but can you to meet me at some random park? see you there!'

after typing and deleting multiple texts you eventually landed on a message.

'hey alex, i've been thinking about your offer to talk it out, and i wanted to ask if you're still up for it?'

you send it and immediately turn off your phone and place it on the coffeetable in front of you. you did it, finally. you fall back on your couch and pull your knees up to your face, waiting for a notification.

after a nailbiting five minutes a light emits from your phone. you pick it up and read the name calling you. 'alex'. you take a deep breath and answer the phone.

"hi alex."

"hey ___, it's been a while."

you sit up straight, preparing yourself for the conversation you're about to have.

'yeah, you can say that."

the atmosphere was a lot less tense than you expected. it was weirdly... comforting? you can hear alex's raspy voice through the phone. has he been crying?

"i saw your text, you wanted to meet?"

"yes, i did. i wanted to get some closure, at least."

alex chuckled, his laugh making you a little flustered. trying to brush it off, you laugh with him.

"what's so funny?" alex asked.

you rolled your eyes and smile.

"you, dumbass."

he gasps cartoonishly loud. his goofy personality is something you could never get enough of. maybe you were wrong after all.

"ok, but seriously, when do you want to meet?"

he gets back on topic. you snap out of your smile and remember why he called in the first place.

"right, right. i'm free this whole week, you can choose when."

after some planning and back and forth, you decide to meet at a small family-run café in the afternoon. coincidentally, it's the same place you two had your first date.

~

you settle down at a table on the terrace of the café, the sunday sun greeting you warmly. you were a little early, so you decided to think of some questions. it didn't take you long to come to a few, though. your main question was the photo. what was that all about?

as you were handed a menu you saw alex walking on the pavement fidgeting with his fingers.

"hey! sorry if i'm late, i took the bus instead of my car."

he took the seat parallel to yours and exhaled.

"oh no, you're right on time. i was just a little early."

the waitress gave alex a menu and disappeared into the establishment. you both decided to stay quiet before getting on topic. neither of you want to start the conversation.

after both ordering and having surface level conversation for a while silence fell. you both know why you're here, it feels off to talk like nothing ever happened.

"okay-"

"so-"

you both start at the same time. alex awkwardly chuckles while covering his mouth.

"you first."

alex proposes. you nod and like magic lose the somewhat content mood you had prior. you steadily breathe in and pull out your phone.

"so, first things first; my main goal is to get closure and an explanation - there's no point in lying to me."

alex hums in agreement. you could tell he was nervous, you knew him better than anyone. you tap on your screen a few times until you reach the photo that was sent to you.

"now, i want a clear answer. what happened that night?"

you ask him firmly as you put your phone on the table to reveal the image.

"that's my ex-girlfriend."

alex said. you raise an eyebrow - his ex? you've heard some wild things about her and her antics, which is exactly why alex broke up with her in the first place.

"she said she wanted to ask me something in private. my dumbass said yes, because i can't pick up on context clues, apparently."

you cross your arms and lean back on the chair.

"you got that right."

alex looks up from the photo and makes eye contact with you.

"long story short, she pushed me to the wall and kissed me. i tried to push her off but she didn't let me go. after shoving her, like, twice she finally got the hint and left."

~

"so she set you up?"

"she hasn't changed a bit since all those years."

you say with a hint of condescension. his explanation made sense, and from what you heard he wasn't lying. your gut told you to believe him, yet your mind had an itching feeling that there was something else.

"are you sure that's all?"

alex flinched slightly.

"y-yes, ___. i don't know what else to tell you."

you mess with your hair a bit, clearly conflicted. there was nothing else, you knew that. but your brain wouldn't let it go. you decided it's better if you just sleep on it.

"alright, then.-"

you grab your bag and stand up.

"-i think we're done here."

alex stays seated and looks up at you.

"yeah, i think so."

you pick the phone up that's laying on the table. you pull out your wallet and put a $5 bill under your teacup.

"goodbye, alex."

"wait!"

alex stands up and grabs your wrist, the gesture scaring you little bit.

"are you still mad at me?"

those eyes. they're so pretty, almost sparlking. you snap out of it when he lets go, just realizing how weird it is to grab someone's arm out of nowhere.

"sorry, my bad. i wasn't thinking."

alex scratches the back of his neck.

"i'm still deciding if i can trust you, but i appreciate you showing up, at least."

"that's enough for me."

alex smile at you, not trying to pry.

"goodbye, ___."

"goodbye, alex."

~

you heard the chirping of the birds outside your window and groan. why is it already morning? you sit up and grab your phone from the nightstand next to your bed, the phone reading 11:23 - tuesday - xx-xx-xxxx.

you sigh and fall back onto your bed. you've been thinking about alex for a few days now, still not getting him out of your head.

after going downstairs and eating some toast you pull out your phone again, the clock now reading 12:44. you look through your contacts and eventually land on his name.

you hover your hand over the green pixels while sitting down at the dining table. you swallow audibly and click the call button.

it goes once.

it goes twice.

"___?"

'Hey alex, i wanted to ask you if you wanted to meet up again?"

ty for reading <3

m.list

taglist: @adoring-ghost @sakisaralazy @for-memories-sacrifice @ialexabsuniverse @shiyanchan @bioluminescentfrog @esylwen

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